Midwinter
Lissa wrapped the scarf around her neck and pulled her coat on over her pyjamas. Everyone else had gone to bed. The merriment was over, the kitchen cleaned up, the wads of torn wrapping paper gathered into a black bag and left by the back door.
Another Christmas over.
She stood on tiptoe and fumbled in the cupboard above the fridge, her fingers searching until they wrapped around the waxy, ridged egde of a candle. She knocked a box of matches down too and dropped it into her pocket.
Outside, the icy air bit into her cheeks, and she lifted her shoulders against the cold, burying her chin in the prickly warmth of the scarf. She crunched her way across the snow to the end of the garden and stopped by the low wall. She could see the river on the other side, black water rushing and tripping over itself.
This was where she'd last seen him, four years ago. She'd leaned over the wall, cheeks flushed from the exertion of dodging and throwing snowballs, and shouted at him that she didn't need the stupid hat he'd knocked off her head. They could look for it in the morning.
She'd still been shouting when he slipped into the water.
Lissa gathered a mound of snow on top of the wall, compacted it with her shivering fingers, and pushed the candle in. It took her several tries to light the match, but eventually she got it. The candle flared to life and she dropped the blackened match onto the snow.
I miss you, Damon. I wish you were still here.
The flame wavered back and forth and she watched it, contemplating the past, thinking of all the things that could have been. It was a dangerous path to go down, but she allowed it, just once a year. She couldn't let Christmas pass without remembering him.
The night grew colder. She turned back to the house, leaving the candle burning.
Originally posted here.
Originally posted here.
~ ~ ~
At First Sight
Serena pushed the heavy door open and smiled guiltily as all heads turned in her direction. She hurried toward the nearest empty seat and dropped into it, keeping her head down.
How embarrassing. Day one of the new semester and she was already late. She peeked up through her lashes; everyone seemed engaged in the lecture once more. Her eyes roved around the U-shape of desks. There were several faces she recognised: that girl from Chemistry, that Asian guy who never spoke to anyone, and--
Hello! Who was that? Her eyes stopped abruptly on the tan-skinned, strong-jawed, green-eyed hunk she'd definitely never seen in any lecture room before.
His eyes snapped to hers as though he'd felt her gaze, and she blinked and looked away. What class was this again? She didn't recognise anything on the screen...
She couldn't help it. Her eyes moved slowly back to the Hunk. He wasn't looking at her anymore. Not exactly. He was looking at... her legs? She shifted uncomfortably, trying to remember when she'd last shaved.
He met her eyes, pointed subtly at her legs, and gave her a thumbs up, mouthing, Nice!
How rude! she thought, hoping the expression on her face told him exactly what she now thought of him.
His smile faltered; then realisation spread across his features. He shook his head slightly and reached down to tap his ankle.
The tattoo! she remembered, blushing at how silly she'd been to think he was referring to her legs as nice. She smiled at him in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner. Thanks, she mouthed.
He picked up a pen, glanced toward the front, and began to write. So that was it? Silent conversation over? She turned back to the lecturer who was pacing back and forth, pointing excitedly at the screen.
Something hit her hand and she started. A paper airplane. She looked up at the Hunk and saw him grinning widely at her.
Her fingers fumbled to pull the airplane apart. Do you always like to make an entrance? it said, in lazy handwriting that she was already in love with.
With her heart beating somewhat faster than normal, she wrote, If it'll get your attention, I can be late every time. That was daring. Maybe too daring? No. One needed to be daring once in a while.
She folded it up and shot it back across the U, earning herself several irritated looks from fellow students. The Hunk opened it, and she watched with a pounding heart as a smile spread across his lips.
She jumped as the door banged shut behind her. A slim figure with sleek auburn hair hurried around the U-shape and slid gracefully into the empty chair beside the Hunk.
Originally posted here.
~ ~ ~
Lost and Found
Serena stomped out of the empty lecture theatre in a frustrated huff. Where could it be? She'd been too tired to write in it last night, so she'd tossed it into her bag this morning so she'd have something useful to do during Chemistry. And she was so sure she'd slipped it back into her bag when the lecture ended...
Blasted diary. She cringed at the thought of who might have picked it up. Her most recent entry wasn't so bad, just ranting about the phone call she'd had with her bossy, I'm-so-perfect sister last night. But if someone turned a few pages back...
Matt. That's what they'd see. Matt, Matt, Matt and everything she really felt but refused to admit in real life. She couldn't handle his possessive ex-girlfriend, she'd told people. His attitude was just too smug and arrogant, she'd complained. And he really wasn't that good-looking, she'd argued with Kathrine.
What she'd felt, however, was a different story.
She climbed the stairs to her res room, hoping desperately that the diary had just fallen out of her bag and behind the bed. She unlocked her door and kicked it open, just to vent some more frustration. She looked up, and felt her stomach plummet straight through her feet, down three stories, and hit the ground floor.
There, lounging casually on her windowsill, her diary open in his hands, was Matt.
"Did you know you dropped something outside Chem this morning?" he asked innocently. "And you really should get your res warden to look into some increased security for this place. It's quite worrying how easy it is for someone to just climb--"
"Matt!" she shouted, stamping her foot for emphasis. She threw her keys onto the bed and snatched the diary out of his hands. "Well," she said hotly, trying to push aside her complete mortification, "I hope you found yourself suitably entertained."
He shrugged. "Enlightened is more like it."
She wanted to whack him over the head with the diary. Whack that easy smile right off his face.
She started to turn but he grabbed her wrist before she could move away. "I wish you were as honest with me as you are with your diary," he said, all trace of amusement now gone from his face. "All this time I thought... I thought you hated me."
Dreaming Again
I am dreaming again of the night my sister died.
It is evening and the First Sun has already slipped below the horizon. The Second Sun, blazing slightly smaller, is following close behind. It will be dark soon.
I know that Cecily is in the forest and that she should have been home by now. Why did she go in there without me? I am twelve and old enough to look after us both.
In an instant I am running toward the forest because I know that something is wrong. I have been here before and I know how it must end. But perhaps this time it will be different. Perhaps this time I will reach her before it is too late.
I rush through the trees, stumbling over roots and fallen branches. I try to push myself harder but my legs feel weighted down with sand. I know what I will hear soon and I dread it.
My legs grow tired and my chest aches, but still I try to push harder. I know exactly where I am going; I have run this path many times now.
Then I hear it, that scream that freezes the blood in my veins, and I know I am too late again.
I sprint as fast as I can, gasping for air, my throat burning. I reach the clearing and drop down breathless beside her small, broken body. Her dark hair is matted with blood and her unseeing green eyes blink wildly several times before becoming still forever.
I move away from her and stand up; tears cast a haze across my vision.
When it happened in real life I clung to her lifeless body, sobbing, until Gran found us like that. But now, in my dreams, I look around me. I look to see what happened, to find some clue of who did this, a figure running away through the trees perhaps.
But I am always too late.
Originally posted here.
~ ~ ~
Bad News
The crash still resounded in my ears, but I knew the room was in silence now. Well, almost in silence. An eerie scratching sound remained as a metal soup ladel swung back and forth against the wall, then fell with a clang to join the rest of the utensils I'd pulled down in my useless attempt to slow my fall.
I had fallen so hard - right through the flimsy ceiling and onto the tiled kitchen floor - that I was sure it should hurt more. It didn't though, not at all, and that relieved me. Everything was a relief now.
Roy was gone. Dead. Never to hurt me again. Laura had shot him as he'd chased me across the attic, my terrified screams doing nothing to slow his pursuit.
Too bad he'd had to fall on top of me as he died.
I remembered managing to just twist out of the way, but my balance was off and I'd fallen too. Crashed down into the kitchen just like him. He'd landed on the table though. I could see his swollen arm dangling over the edge.
Hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway. That would be Laura.
"Are you all right?" she gasped, running into the kitchen.
"Yes," I said quietly, still not moving off the floor. Everything was all right now. Even though I was staring up into a great big hole in the ceiling, everything was all right.
"Come, let's get out of the kitchen," said Laura, holding her hand out to help me up. "I don't want to be anywhere near him."
I tried to reach for her hand - nothing happened. I tried to move my arms to my sides so I could push myself up - nothing happened.
"What?" she asked, seeing the alarm in my face. "What is it? Do you feel pain?"
"No," I whispered, panic tightening my chest. "I don't feel anything."
Originally posted here.
