|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2018 2:08 pm
“Qudamah!”
He rose, sand rolling off from his hair and shoulders. He raised his hands, brows knitted, and touched his face. He couldn’t see through the thorns and brush which grew out from his forehead and knit underneath his tender cheeks. Endlessly he clawed away, tugging bit by bit at his flesh until, finally, a piercing light crossed his gaze. Clamoring forward, his palms slapped against a wall.
“Qudamah!”
The voice screamed from above and resonated with the walls around him, the resulting sound sending his hands clamping over his ears and a shiver up his spine. He ducked, almost burrowing into the dirt to escape, but the stinging of his eyes drew him upward again. Everything burned. His palms, his skin, his eyes. Why? Why was everything burning? How could he make it stop?
“Qudamah, please!”
“Where are you?” He screamed, throwing his head toward the sky. He could barely see the opening, a circle at the very top, like a glowing halo. Could he reach it?
He scrambled for the wall, palms squeaking harshly as they slid around for a grip, only for a sudden cracking sound to send him reeling back. The sand beneath him began to slide, pulling him down and into the hole he’d made. He gasped, turned, and clawed desperately upward.
“Hurry!”
“I’m trying!” He cried, sand quickly filling his mouth. He gagged, skidded downward, and shoved forward.
“Laurel, hurry up!”
Suddenly, the desperate sandy world faded and Laurel shot up in bed, his hands immediately reaching for his eyes. No thorns, no blood, the stinging was gone. But, why? Who was-
“Hey, why aren't you answering me? I’ve called you ten times now!” Oliver said, leaning in from the open door. “... Are you feeling alright?”
“Huh?” Laurel said, rubbing at his eyes again. “I… I’m alright, just… Sleepy. … Why were you calling me, though?”
“We’re going to see Marcus and Asher, remember?” Oliver said, moving to sit beside Laurel and run a hand across his forehead. “Mm, no fever, but you look so flushed… Do you want to stay home? I could call Rosie and see if she could stay with you.”
“Ah, no! I’m fine, just, uh-” Laurel stammered, tossing his blanket off and hovering over to the mirror. “Give me a minute to get dressed and eat something, okay?”
“Well, alright.” Oliver said, rising up. “But please don’t take too long. I want to make sure we have enough time to pick up a few things before we get there.”
“Fair enough, be right down.” Laurel replied, wiping at his cheeks. He watched Oliver’s reflection leave the room and slowly slid down to the floor, his hands grasping the sides of his head.
That dream, it was nothing like he’d seen before! Usually his dreams were about Pokemon or his family, but this… This was horrifying. He cradled himself, eventually leaning the side of his face against the mirror, and breathed deeply. It was only a dream, nothing to get so worked up about. He placed a hand against the mirror and pushed himself up.
“I’m sorry.”
“Who’s there?” Laurel said.
“I failed, now it’s up to you.”
“Failed what? Who are you?” Laurel cried, shoving himself against the mirror and grasping his head again. It was just a dream, this wasn’t happening!
“Save them, Laurel.”
“Save who? I don’t-” Laurel shook his head furiously. No, he had to calm down. He was tired, that’s all. He was imagining this. He threw himself toward his closet and frantically pulled on his favorite sweater.
“Hurry up, Laurel.”
“That’s enough!” He screamed, turning toward the door with the sweater half-way on. However, the sight of Devin staring wide-eyed at him caught him off-guard and he slid his face meekly under the collar. “S-sorry, Devin.”
“The ********' wrong with you today?” Devin asked, arching a brow. “You’re acting weirder than usual.”
“Uh…” Laurel muttered, tugging his arms through the sleeves. “... Had a nightmare. Didn’t wake up so well. Sorry.”
“Oh, that sucks.” Devin said, nudging himself out of the doorway. “Happens to all of us, man. Gotta keep pace, though. Dad’s getting antsy.”
“I know, I’m coming.” Laurel sighed, taking a deep breath in and turning toward his bedside table. … He could find something to eat on the way there. Right now, what he wanted was his phone, his beanie, and to stop feeling jumpy.
He opened the drawer and dug around, before pausing on the stick he’d placed there the night before. Was it just his mind playing tricks on him or had it changed color while he was asleep? He shook his head, tossed it back into the drawer, and hurried to meet his father and Devin downstairs.
(November 25th 2017)
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2018 2:09 pm
Laurel was given the bouquet to hold during the drive and it quickly became the only thing he could focus on. He was too tired to make conversation and, though he fought against it well, his eyes could barely keep themselves open. What he could see were the lovely oranges and yellows that lay beneath the clear plastic sheath in front of him. Sunflowers, almost out of season, gerber daisies, and a rainbow of carnations. Marcus’ favorite flowers, Oliver had explained, all tied together with a bow as golden as the sun. They smelled lovely, not pungent, but in his current state, Laurel couldn’t bring them to his face.
Beside him sat Devin, his hood up and his headphones on. Laurel had tried to get something out of him before they left the flower shop, but the teenager seemed more interested in keeping to himself. However, whenever Laurel felt he could peel his eyes off of the bouquet for a moment to pay his cousin a glance, he could tell that something wasn’t quite right. Given the context of the drive, though, could he really blame him?
“How’s it going back there, boys?” Oliver asked, peering back when they came to a stoplight.
“Mm, I’m dozing.” Laurel answered, wiggling a bit against his seat belt. “... I don’t think Devin can hear you.”
“No, and that’s okay.” Oliver replied, sighing as the light turned green. “We’ll be there soon.”
Though initially Asher had arranged for the party to be at his house, a sudden phone call a few miles back had the place changed to one of Marcus’ family’s houses. Asher had gotten far more guests than he’d originally planned, and though they were more than welcome of course, it meant a change of venue. Oliver himself had never been to this house, but was assured they’d figure out where it was. Three dead ends and six wrong turns later, they finally found the right route and the remainder of the drive went through a sprawling scenic forest.
“Whoa, look at all the colors!” Laurel exclaimed, placing his free hand against the window. “Red, orange, yellow…”
His voice trailed off as Oliver’s car turned and went around a looping bend. There, surrounded by a cradle of trees, sat a house far larger than Laurel had ever imagined. It was brown, weathered and worn, but there was something about it that made Laurel feel awed.
“I’ve never seen a house as big as this before…” He said.
“I have, but not this one.” Oliver said, parking the car outside. “Oh, there’s Asher’s father.”
An old gentleman had appeared at the door and wandered out. Laurel tilted his head toward him as Oliver opened the door and extended his hand.
“Hello William, long time no see!” Oliver greeted.
“Oliver, I’m so glad to see you.” William replied, motioning toward the car. “Here let me get your bags! And where’s that grandson of mine?”
“Bags? I didn’t pack any bags!” Oliver gawked, looking frantically toward the car. “I thought we’d be leaving tonight!”
“Leaving? After you’ve come all this way? Nonsense!” William said, shaking his head. “Asher wouldn’t have it, nevermind Matthew. … You know, he’s been meaning to talk to yo-”
“And we will, I’m sure.” Oliver interuppted, heaving a breath. “Let me just…”
“Hey! What’s going on?” Laurel piqued, nudging himself out of the car and hovering out. “Wow, everything here smells so nice…”
“Ah! Asher told me you’d adopted!” William exclaimed, immediately reaching out to Laurel. “You’re quite an interesting sight, aren’t you? But you look like you’d fit right in with us!”
“Really? Why?” Laurel asked, shifting his gaze from William to Oliver and back again. “Are there Raevans in your family, too?”
“It’s because you’ve got red hair, doofus.” Devin quipped, appearing from behind the car and standing next to Laurel. “... ‘Ey grandpa Willie.”
“Hello, Devin!” William said, moving to wrap his arms around the teenager. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” Devin grumbled, keeping himself just out of reach. “Are Cam and Gwen here?”
“... Why, yes. Of course. They’re inside.” William said.
“Great.” Devin said, barely looking up to Oliver as he walked away. “If you need me, dad, I’ll be hanging with them.”
“Alright sweetheart.” Oliver said, looking down to William and muttering. “I’m sorry about him. He’s not been well.”
“No, no, I should have expected that.” William sighed, clasping his hands. “Well then, enough standing about in the cold! Let’s go inside.”
Laurel, who had stayed quiet while watching Devin and William speak, hovered slowly after the pair as they went into the house. Grandpa Willie, huh? He’d almost forgotten the story Oliver had told him. Devin had been given up by his mother who was Asher’s sister, making Devin part of this family and the Kipling family. However, why had Devin been so stiff when William tried to hug him? Was there something else to that story? The cheetah knitted his brow in thought, before suddenly realizing that he’d been left alone in the hallway. Tensing up, he chirped.
“D-dad?” He called, rushing forward and pausing as a pair of children ran past him and into another room. He breathed and slowly continued down the hall.
There seemed to be an endless sea of faces along the walls. Most of them were old portraits of dark haired men in robes sitting for the camera, but there were a few he could admire. Beach scenes with many people smiling, children with buckets on their heads, some with diplomas from middle school, some with teeth missing and halloween costumes. Eventually, he found himself smiling and even chuckling at a few of them, before reaching the end of the hall and then looking out to the backyard.
Outside, he could see a trio of people sitting in the woods and recognized one as Devin. He had his hood off now and looked like his was ranting about something, but Laurel couldn’t make it out. There was this loud beeping noise blocking out the dialogue, and when he turned to face where it was coming from, his mouth fell slightly open.
Inside the room directly before the back door sat a man with black hair. There were tubes all over his wheelchair and a large, cylindrical metal object strapped to it’s back. Laurel wondered how he hadn’t noticed him, or the sound, moments before and hovered indecisively. Should he say hello? Did the man even notice him there? He was kinda staring at the floor… He decided to move forward.
“Are you okay?” Laurel asked, moving back as the man lifted his head. “Sorry if I scared you. … My name's Laurel.”
The man didn’t seem to be completely there, even though his eyes were staring straight at him. Laurel wondered, anxiously, if he’d done the right thing by disturbing him until, slowly, the man raised his arm toward the bouquet in Laurel’s arms.
“Oh man! I forgot I was holding these!” Laurel laughed, glancing about. “Dad said these needed water before, but I don’t see any around. … I kinda got distracted by the photos outside.”
Where was his father, anyway? He pouted, before realizing the man was waving his hand toward him. Laurel could see that he was trying to say something, but the mask he had on was blocking his mouth. He moved closer, studying his lips, and sighed.
“I don’t understand you. Can you take that mask off?” He said.
He watched the man shake his head and wave his hands about, before patting his chest and pointing to the flowers. Oh, he wanted the flowers! ...But they were for Marcus. He couldn’t just give them to anyone else. … Unless.
“Are you Marcus?” He asked, his eyes widening as the man nodded. “Oh! I didn’t recognize you from the pictures my dad showed me! Here, these are for you!”
He quickly offered the bouquet to Marcus and smiled as he placed them in his lap. However, he couldn’t help but let that smile falter as he looked Marcus over. … Was this what dying looked like? He was so pale... And all those tubes… How could he stand it? He sighed, again, before realizing that Marcus was staring at him.
“S-sorry, I was just-” He stammered, only to stop mid-sentence as Marcus placed a hand on his head. Caught off guard, he locked eyes with Marcus and, noticing the other’s soft smile, leaned into the touch. Normally he’d be nervous about getting head pats from someone he didn’t know, but Marcus seemed nice. He let Marcus gently tousle his hair and, soon enough, started to purr.
The petting combined with the light streaming in from the windows beside them almost made Laurel feel as though he could drift off to sleep. In fact, he had to actively fight against closing his eyes and leaning down. Instead, he focused on trying to listen to the voices coming from down the hall, and leaned backward when the sound of boots came thumping toward the door.
“Mark, honey, Oliver’s-”
The man who’d come from down the hall stopped short when he saw Laurel. Both he and Laurel stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment, before the man stepped forward and knelt down.
“You must be Laurel!” He said, chuckling. “I’m Asher. Your father said you disappeared once he came in, but it looks like you’re not having any trouble, are you?”
“No, I’m fine.” Laurel replied, folding his arms. “Though, it was my dad who disappeared, not me!”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here regardless.” Asher said, before rising and grabbing the handles on Marcus’ wheelchair. “The party’s going to start soon! Why don’t you follow me and get settled in the living room? I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”
“Yeah, uh… That’s what William said.” Laurel replied.
(November 25th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2018 2:10 pm
And William hadn’t been kidding. Entering the living room was like walking into a sea of red. People of all ages, sporting a spectrum of hues from carrot to ruby to mahogany, seated together, chasing each other, and laughing. In between these warm shades were people resembling Marcus’ short black waves, though some reached into the warmer pool and had faces framed with brown or chocolate. Family, Laurel decided, every single one of these people were family here to see that Marcus passed away safely. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Feel free to take a seat anywhere you’d like.” Asher said, giving Laurel a gentle nudge on the back. “I’m going to move Marcus toward the window.”
“Okay.” Laurel replied.
The task was easier said than done. Everyone around him seemed preoccupied with whoever they were closest with. He didn’t feel like it was right to interrupt. He hovered apprehensively and jumped as a hand touched his shoulder.
“Whoa, didn’t mean to spook you!” Said the teenager behind him.
“N-no, that’s fine, I didn’t see you.” Laurel apologized, extending a hand to shake. “I’m Laurel, you?”
“Armaroq!” The teen laughed, shaking Laurel’s hand vigorously. “And naaah, don’t worry! I saw you looking nervous. You want to sit with me and my sibs?”
“Sure! Thank you!”
Laurel followed Armaroq to a couch and found himself quickly settled into a conversation with Armaroq and his three younger siblings. There was Anna, a little younger than her brother, who let him try on her lucky purple beanie. She preceded Ainsley, a girl with such a majestic amount of curls, Laurel thought she had to be related to a lion! Then, finally, there was Aaron, a boy who was initially afraid to talk to Laurel, but warmed up after a few jokes. Sitting there laughing and sharing stories made time go by so fast that, when they finally ran out of topics, it was almost sunset.
“I’m going to ask dad if he can take us to the skate park one day, Anna.” Laurel chimed. “It sounds like a lot of fun!”
“It is, even when you wipe out!” Anna laughed. “But… You might wanna wait until you grow some legs. You kinda need those to skate in the first place!”
“Says who? I could use my hands!” He said, waving his hands about.
Laughter; He loved the sound of it. Almost everything he had to say made them smile, chuckle, or even go red in the face. It made him feel proud of himself. Even at a time when people were sad, he could still make them laugh. He beamed, his cheeks rosy with cheer, and hopped up when he saw Devin walking across the room.
“Dev, Dev! Over here!” He called, patting the seat next to him eagerly. “You gotta meet these guys, they’re awesome!”
“... I already know them, Laurel. We’re cousins. ” Devin muttered, turning slowly toward Armaroq. “Sup, Rocko?”
“Ah, man! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Armaroq exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Devin. “You still going to the academy?”
“Nah. Taking a break.” Devin sighed, giving Anna a quick fistbump and smiling. “Where’s Creea? She busy?”
“Mm, no. Sick.” Armaroq shrugged. “I mean, we are here to say goodbye to her dad, kinda. She’s not really up for being in public eye right now.”
“Totally get that, yeah.” Devin said, motioning toward the hallway. “I’m gonna go find my uncle. Find out where we’re sleeping tonight.”
“Chill, no worries.” Armaroq said, patting Devin’s back and sitting back down. Once Devin was out of sight, he turned to Laurel. “How do you know Devin?”
“He’s uh…" Laurel began, watching Devin leave. "My cousin, but kinda more like my brother now?” His ears pinned back against his hat. “Sorry if I forgot to mention that Oliver’s my dad.”
“Oh, no! Don’t worry about it.” Armaroq replied, waving a hand. “Guess you’re kinda my cousin now too, aren’t you?”
“Maybe?” Laurel shrugged, pursing his lips. Truth be told, he didn’t quite know how to feel about that. Friends? Yeah, he could see that, but cousins? Not really? His dad wasn’t related to Armaroq’s family, but Devin was. Being Devin’s cousin didn’t mean that Laurel was cousins to anyone here. He appreciated the sentiment, though, and smiled toward the hallway as Oliver, with Devin, appeared. He waited for Oliver to spy him, waved, and sighed.
Dad looked like he’d been crying. He could tell by how irritated his eyes were. Devin had a hand around his back and seemed to be trying to whisper to him, but Laurel was distracted by the man who came wandering after them. He looked like a brown haired Marcus, but with a shorter, thinner stature covered by colored robes. After him, from the staircase next to him, came a pair of girls around Armaroq’s age, one with long, straight black hair and the other with silky brown curls. Laurel leaned upward to get a better view of them, before a loud whistle drew everyone’s attention to the center of the room.
“Hello everyone!” Asher called, clasping his hands in front of him. “Though Marcus can’t speak anymore, he’s let me know that he’s humbled by the sheer amount of family and friends who have made the journey here today to see him off in joy instead of sadness. He, and I, both thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”
He looked around the room, offering everyone a warm smile, and settled his gaze suddenly upon Laurel.
“Oh, and a little birdie told me something special about you.” He said, moving a hand to point Laurel out. “Oliver Kipling, I’m sure you all remember him, has brought his son Laurel to meet us today and, get this… Marcus and he share a birthday! Isn’t that amazing?”
The room suddenly grew loud with chatter again, but now with their smiles and eyes all upon Laurel. Shocked at being singled out, Laurel immediately hunched his shoulders and looked over to Oliver and Devin. … Oh no, Oliver looked nervous. Laurel shook his head and held his hands up.
“There’s nothing amazing about that, it’s just… Uh.” He paused, searching himself for the right word. “A coincidence! … Besides, my birthday’s over. Please, don’t-”
“There are no coincidences to us, Laurel!” William announced over the chatter. “Fate has brought you here, that’s no coincidence!”
“Yeah!” Armaroq agreed, practically slapping his arm around Laurel’s back. “You’re special, man! How old are you?”
“... Uh…” Laurel began, giving a pained glance over to Oliver again. There was a moment of hesitation between them, but once Oliver sent him a nod, Laurel breathed and continued. “I’m a year old now.”
“Only a year? What did I tell you? It’s fate!” William laughed, clapping his hands. “Why, last year was one of the best years for my crops! … Though I have to say this year I could have done with more chamomi-”
“William, that’s quite enough!”
The voice that called out stemmed from the man in the robes that had entered in before. He held himself rather stiff and paid Laurel a sympathetic smile, before once again facing William with a stern gaze.
“You’re making him uncomfortable with this talk, the lot of you.” He continued, sighing. “I swear, if I didn’t agree with you about fate, I would say you’re just being rude.”
“Heh, sorry Matt.” William apologized, coughing and glancing to Laurel. “And to you, sweetheart.”
“No, no, it’s fine!” Laurel lied, rubbing his arm. “But, could we… Talk about something else, please?”
“Yes, of course!” Asher said, taking a breath in. “So, I know we’re gathering for a not so wonderful reason, but Marcus has decided that we should spend as much time as possible trying to enjoy ourselves. I’ve got plenty of games, movies, and activities planned to keep our spirits up, all picked by Marcus himself. Who’s ready to get this party started?”
The room erupted into cheers, some with the fists raised and feet stamping, but Laurel could only manage a timid smile. Oliver and Devin looked rather nervous and embarrassed, and frankly, he felt the same. Once Armaroq let him go, he moved sheepishly across the room to Devin.
“... I’m sorry.” He said.
“Good.” Devin replied, glaring off to the side. “You should be.”
(November 25th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2018 11:57 am
You should be. Devin’s words ran through Laurel’s mind whenever he found himself idling for too long. Between conversations, games, and stories, it was like the ringing of a not-so-gentle bell, reminding him of the bitterness that his cousin had offered him instead of sympathy. It made him feel as though he’d done something wrong, like being called out by Asher had been his idea, his fault, and he should feel guilty. Each time it interrupted his thoughts, the more he started to question whether or not Devin was wrong. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he should have stayed home with Aunt Rosie, like Oliver had suggested that morning. There wouldn’t have been such a fuss over him, then. He wouldn’t have been a distraction.
“Got any threes?”
“Huh? Oh.” Laurel said, roused from his thoughts. “No, go fish.”
After dinner, Laurel had been invited to play Go Fish by William, Matthew, and Asher. Marcus had been wheeled closer and was designated as the holder of the cards which now sat on his lap. William reached over, took three cards, and scoffed as Marcus gave his hand a gentle tap.
“Nothing gets past you, huh? Even now!” He laughed.
“My son's lost his lung function, Willie, not his mind.” Matthew retorted, rolling his eyes. “You put two back or I’ll give you more than a tap!”
“Alright, alright.” William muttered, sliding two of the cards back onto Marcus’ lap and turning to Laurel again. “Oi, you look distracted. Something on your mind?”
“Mm… No?” Laurel replied, shrugging. “Just really, really, focused on the game.”
“Pffft, it’s go fish, boy! No need to be so serious!” William exclaimed, glancing down at his cards. “Unless you’re afraid I might beat you!”
“You’ve… Kinda asked me if I had any threes for the last few rounds.” Laurel snickered. “But, maybe I’m wrong. I haven't really been paying attention.”
“Nah! He’s asked all of us about six times.” Asher said, with a smirk toward William. “If anyone’s losing their mind tonight, it’s my father over there.”
“Me? Losing my mind? Preposterous!” William said, wrinkling his nose at Asher. “You’re all exaggerating just to throw me off my game! I won’t be going down so easi-”
The sound of cards hitting the floor turned everyone’s attention to Marcus. He had his brows furrowed and his arms crossed, obviously frustrated with the teasing going on. Laurel looked to him with concern while Asher sighed, bent down, and started gathering the cards from the floor.
“Guess the game’s over now, huh?” Laurel said.
“Yeah, no. Mark’s not up for it anymore.” Asher said, looking up to Marcus. “You’re looking weary. Want to get ready for bed? I’m sure no one would mind.”
There was a moment’s pause from Marcus, his face going through a few emotions, before finally paying Asher a nod of begrudging acceptance. Chuckling, Asher moved to take his wheelchair.
“I figured you’d be reluctant, but we’ll have more fun tomorrow.” Asher said, pushing Marcus toward the hall. “Time to start the bedtime ritual! I’ll be back later.”
“Goodnight Marcus, sweet dreams!” Matthew said.
“Sleep well.” William said.
“I think I’m going to head to sleep now, too.” Laurel said, placing his cards down on the pile Asher had made. “Gotta ask my dad where we’re sleeping, though. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
He waved goodnight to William and Matthew as he hovered up the stairs and moved slowly down the hall. Asher had given Oliver a room to stay in and Devin had decided to bunk in with Armaroq, but neither room had enough space for Laurel to share. Rather than argue that he and his father could share a small bed, he’d accepted an offer to sleep in a room that needed to be made up. Which room that was, out of this long hall of doors, was a mystery.
Yawning, he continued down the hall until he came to a door that was slightly propped open. He could hear Oliver’s voice from inside and moved to knock, only to pause and decide to eavesdrop from the wall outside.
“Devin, I know you’re upset about being here, but it’s only until Marcus-”
“I get it, until he dies! I can’t ******** wait until that happens so we can go home!”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do! You have no idea how frustrating it is to sit out there and talk to people who would otherwise ignore me if Marcus weren’t dying! Do you know how ******** awful that feels?”
“... No, but it doesn’t give you a right to behave like this. These people are your family.”
“Yeah, a pretty shitty family, too! Uncle Asher didn’t say hello to me the whole day, but he sure as hell noticed Laurel!”
“Honey, Asher’s been so busy putting this all together, and I’ll bet that Laurel wasn’t happy about the attention either! He was practically frozen out there, like a deer in headlights!”
“Well-yeah-but it was still a terrible idea for him to come! Why didn’t you leave him with aunt Rosie or something?”
“I offered, but he decided that he wanted to come. I couldn’t force him to stay home if he didn’t want to.”
“I wish you had! This has been the worst day of my life!”
“Okay, you know what? You’re upset, I’m upset, and it’s late. I don’t want to continue having this discussion right now. We can talk more about this when we’re at home.”
“Fine!”
Laurel jumped out of the way just as the door flew open and Devin stormed out. Luckily, the teenager was too distracted by his fuming to notice Laurel and stomped off in the opposite direction. With a sigh of relief, Laurel entered the room.
“Hey, dad?” He asked.
Oliver stood over the bed, one hand held firmly against his head and the other against the blanket. Laurel watched him, his ears pinning back, and waited patiently while Oliver slowly raised his gaze to meet his.
“Yes?” Oliver said, after a considerable pause.
“W-where am I sleeping tonight?” Laurel stuttered.
“... Third door down the hall, the one just before the stairs.” Oliver sighed, tiredly waving his arm.
“Thanks.” Laurel said, hovering backward toward the open door.
“Wait... Laurel?” Oliver asked.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”
“Any of what?” Laurel lied.
“... Nevermind. Goodnight.”
“Night dad.”
He left the room as slowly as he came in, shutting the door carefully behind him, and made his way to the room Oliver had directed him to. Inside was a neatly made bed, complete with a set of towels, a stuffed animal, and a note. After nudging the door shut, he moved the towels, took the plushie in his arms, and read the note.
“Heard you liked stuffed animals! Here’s one of my old favorites. Sorry if he’s a little dusty.
- Armaroq”
Giving the note a subtle nod, Laurel took a deep breath in and let it out as he threw himself face first onto the bed. All that mattered to him right now was a good night’s rest. Dusty stuffed animal or not.
(November 25th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 07, 2018 3:33 pm
“Qudamah!”
Thorns, again. His eyes stung like crazy and blood trickled slowly from his cheeks and sore-pricked fingertips. Through what little holes of vision he had left, he could see light. Bright, piercing, white light, and the faintest sight of movement in front of him. Whatever was there wavered like heat simmering off a steamy summer road or like waves of water, never truly coming together into something distinct, but clear enough to make it’s presence known. He squinted and winced, another thorn striking his eye.
“Qudamah!”
He raised his head to shout, but the only thing that burst from his lips was sand. Hot, dry, and coarse, he grasped his neck, unintentionally painting his skin with streaks of red. Where? Why? His fingers circled his Adam's apple, stroked down, and moved carefully over his chest. Cloth. He continued, tracing over his chest and over his arms. Sleeves, thin and airy, not unlike a bed sheet. Furrowing his brow, he followed the cloth over his shoulders.
“You don’t even recognize yourself anymore, do you?”
"How could I?", was what he wanted to cry. How could he? The question pressed down upon his back, sending his hands recoiling to his arms. He leaned forward to accommodate, his face bowing down to the floor and wings stretching out. There was a gradual pressure between his wings that grew with each passing second, as though something were trying to push itself into him. It wasn’t painful enough to make him scream, but it did make him tense. He breathed deep through his nose, clenched his jaw, and whined.
“Hush child, I am here.”
The gentle caress of a hand against his head brought his gaze upward, but he couldn’t see. All the pain, all the pressure, everything, it had all gone to black. He resisted, the hand unmoving against his forehead, and, finally, opened his eyes.
There was no hand resting on Laurel’s head when he woke, nor a person it belonged to. He was alone, the bed, room, and door just as he had found it the night before. He hummed in thought, only to wince as his breath cut off short. His throat felt… Sore. He touched it curiously and hovered over to the mirror. Nothing external he could feel, except that it was warm. Almost too warm. Not a coincidence he really cared to consider at the moment.
Instead, he tossed on the clothes he’d worn the day before and scurried out into the hallway. He could hear voices downstairs and the lingering scent of bacon gave him a twinge of jealousy, but the odd amount of flush in his cheeks caught him off guard halfway down the stairs. Something wasn’t right with him. He felt weak, his throat hurt, and he was so hot… Had the dream done this to him?
“You alright, Laurel?”
Startled, Laurel turned quickly to face Armaroq. The teenager was looking at him rather carefully… Laurel cleared his throat.
“Yeah, totes!” He exclaimed, breathing in against the pain. “Just got lost in thought.”
“Ah, happens to all of us!” Armaroq laughed, patting Laurel on the back. “Anyway, I was thinking of rounding everyone up for a hike along the trail since it’s such a nice day today! Wanna come?”
“Absolutely!” Laurel chirped, glancing to the side. “Where to?”
“Nowhere special, but probably down to the dock.” Armaroq replied, waving his hands about. “There’s this huge lake not too far from here that’s gorgeous this time of year! I’ve been itching to get down there since we arrived.”
“Neat! Can’t wait to see it!” Laurel said, pulling at his collar. “I’ll meet you down in a bit, though. I want to find my dad first.”
“No worries, I won’t leave without you!” Armaroq said, heading down the stairs. “Meet me outside in the back when you’re ready!”
“Gotcha!” Laurel said.
Once Armaroq was out of sight, Laurel quickly grasped the sides of his hoodie, tugged then over his neck, and leaned against the banister. On one hand, he did not feel that going outside was such a good idea. He knew his energy was low and he really didn’t feel right, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to let Armaroq down. … Or anyone for that matter.
He bit his lip, took another deep breath in, and continued down the stairs. He could power through this! He’d already been enough of a distraction yesterday and he didn’t want to make this visit any more awkward. If it really was nothing, he’d just embarrass himself, his father, and Devin by making it a big deal. And, maybe if he ignored it long enough, it would simply go away. He had to be strong!
(November 26th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2018 11:07 am
After a quick visit to the bathroom to dab a washcloth against his face, Laurel made his way to the backyard. Though he knew the outside air was chilly, he wasn’t shivering as much as he typically would. In fact, he almost felt too hot as he hovered underneath the trees, something he thought could never happen. He liked being toasty and wrapped up in all sorts of layers but, today, his usual sweater, jacket, and scarf combo felt suffocating. It took quite a bit of mental strength to not tear his layers off and expose himself to the cold because, while that sounded like a miracle in theory, in practice he knew he would be just as miserable.
He continued away from the house, aiming to distract himself with the nature that surrounded him, and eventually caught sight of Armaroq and the rest of the group. Devin, standing away from the group, looked up as he approached and rushed forward to meet him.
“Where have you been?” Devin asked.
“S-sorry, I was looking for dad.” Laurel said, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn’t know that he went back home to get stuff. Did you?”
“... No.” Devin replied, sighing. “I guess he didn’t check on you this morning?”
“Not that I know of?” Laurel said, shrugging. “I had another bad dream, kinda the same as before… It was weird getting up today.”
“Mm, same.” Devin said, glancing back to the group and back to Laurel. “Ugh, looks like Rocko’s got a map. We might be out here a while… You sure you want to come?”
“Yeah, I’m sure!” Laurel chirped, leaning around Devin as he glanced back. Whoa, yeah, that was a pretty big map… But he could handle this! He could handle anything!
--------
He could not handle anything. Less than an hour into this hike, Laurel had fallen behind in order to catch his breath against the trunk of a tree and completely lost the group. Though he’d tried to draw attention to himself before everyone disappeared, his throat had grown so unbearably sore that all he could get out was a pathetic wheeze. He might as well had been the wind blowing above his head, completely invisible and easily ignored. The sweat that had been on his brow from the start had now sprung up around his neck and down his arms, making his clothes all the more confining. He wanted nothing more than to tear his sweater off and let the wind cool him down.
Still, he persisted, despite his balance now a teetering chance instead of something he could control, and pushed himself through the forest in search of the group. Someone had to have noticed he was missing by now, right? He hoped Devin at least would have turned back or called out for him, but the further he went down the path, the more the silence around him proved him wrong. There were no voices nearby, not up ahead, not to his sides, and though he tried to convince himself otherwise, it was very clear now that he was alone. No new friends to call out to, no cousin to hover beside, and no father to rush to. He was completely and utterly alone.
“W-what am I… Going to… Do…?” He huffed, leaning against a tree. The coolness of the bark against his cheek gave him but a temporary relief, but one that he desperately needed. He breathed deeply through his nose, the sweet scent of fallen leaves gently soothing his anxiety, and fought against the urge to sleep. He had to be close by now. Someone was looking for him. He had to keep moving. The house couldn’t be far.
But moving away from that tree was far harder than the last. Instead of simply hovering away, he slipped sideways through the bushes and down a slope, his head and arms hitting several branches and trunks along the way, and finally caught himself against the side of a large boulder. How far he had fallen was a mystery, but judging by how wobbly he felt afterward, it had to have been pretty far. He steadied himself against the stone and guided himself, carefully, around to the other side.
Something felt different when he crossed over. He still felt exhausted and hot, but his arms and chest had gotten somewhat lighter. He raised a hand to touch these areas, furrowing his brow as he traced his biceps and shoulders, before taking a good look up to the front side of the stone. There, staring back at him, was the stone head of an very threatening bird that almost had Laurel jumping backward in fright. However, he caught himself and instead observed the water filled tray that the statue was looming over. Relieved, he splashed his face with it.
“Much better!” He said, putting a hand to his head as another wave of dizziness washed over him. “Or not. Ugh…”
Then, a sudden crack of pain jutted over his brow, causing him to wince and squint his eyes shut. It pulsed, like someone knocking on a door, and sent his hands gripping for the tray of water. He whined, bracing himself as best he could until, as quickly as it had come, the pain subsided and he was left slightly more aware of his surroundings. Everything seemed to have a gentle, comforting glow to it, including his hands. He raised them from off the tray and examined them, before getting distracted by something glinting inside the tray. Carefully, he fished it out.
A red crystal dangling from a golden chain. He had to wonder who would leave something so pretty sitting in tray of water. Maybe someone had found it and left it there in case the owner came looking for it? He blinked at it, glanced up to the bird head statue, and gently looped it around the statue’s neck. There, now it wouldn’t get rusty because of the water, unless there was a storm or something. He offered the statue a smile and turned to observe the rest of the area.
There, just beyond the end of the path, he thought he could see the rest of the group running down the hill. However, it wasn’t until they reached the bottom that he registered that they were really there and calling out his name. Shaking his head, he raced out to meet them.
“Here I am!” He croaked, immediately clearing his throat. “Sorry! I don’t know how I got lost!”
“Oh my God, Laurel!” Armaroq exclaimed, he and the entire group running up to him. “We didn’t even notice you were gone until you started screaming for help! Are you alright?’
“S-screaming? I wasn’t-” Laurel stammered, stopping himself short to think. Though he didn’t remember screaming for help, his throat had gotten worse the longer he’d been alone. Maybe he’d forgotten because of the fall he’d taken before? He made a face and continued. “I’m fine, or at least now I am! I was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to find you guys!”
“So were we!” Armaroq said, breathing a sigh of relief. “But, you know, you aren’t the first person to get lost out here. I used to get turned around all the time, it’s not big deal. Just, uh… Try to keep up with us, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I will!” Laurel replied, waiting until the group turned around to breathe a sigh of his own. This time, he really had to pay attention to where he was and make sure he kept Devin at his side. He turned his gaze upward, scanned the group for Devin, and gasped.
“Hey, guys? Where’s Devin?” He asked.
“Ah, that’s what I forgot!” Armaroq said, pointing up the hill. “He went on ahead to the lake without us. That’s when we realized that you’d disappeared. We’ll catch up with him in a few minutes!”
“O-oh… Okay.” Laurel replied.
(November 26th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2018 1:15 pm
Twenty minutes later, it became clear to Laurel that he and Armaroq both had a very different definition for what “a few minutes” meant. He watched the back of Armaroq’s head with a mix of disbelief and contempt but, really, did he have a right to be upset with him? He was the one out here hiking when he obviously should be resting, even though he didn’t know what was wrong with him to begin with. Every inch of his body was screaming for a nice soft bed and a drink of water, but it was far too late to turn back now. He’d committed to the act and he had to stick with it.
The sight of the lake appearing through the trees was a relief he never thought he’d ever feel. Though he hated water, several shiver-inducing washes later, he almost felt like he was back to himself again and took a moment to look out over the water.
Like a cracked geode, the water shimmered and shined beneath the glow of the sun. He could hear it moving, lapping up against the shore with the breeze and pushing against the little platforms that were floating out in the middle. The leaves that dotted out from it’s edges echoed the fiery boughs of the trees hanging above them and floated peacefully, creating a sense of calmness and serenity within Laurel that drew a thoughtful smile to his face. It was a lovely place, prettier than the lake by his house, and he wished that his father were here to see it. Hopefully he wasn’t having too much trouble trying to pack things for he and Devin back at the house...
“... Where is Devin anyway?” He muttered, his gaze moving to survey the entire lake. He knew the group was sitting off toward his left, with Armaroq still chattering away about the history of the lake or something. He’d stopped paying attention ages ago so he could focus on trying to keep himself upright and alert. He frowned, recalling just how exhausted he had been a few minutes ago, and looked up toward his right.
There was a short, shaded dock over off to the side that he could see. It looked like a nice place to sit or rest and, as he hovered closer to it, he could see the silhouette of a familiar person curled up under one of the darker corners. There he was, but what was he doing so far away from the group? Laurel sighed and headed over to him.
“Dev?” He asked, peering down to his cousin. “You okay?”
He watched Devin for an answer, looming over him like a mother hen, and gasped when Devin reached out and pushed him away.
“What was that for?” He whined, rubbing his arm. “I was only asking if you were o-”
“Wh-” Laurel began, the pain in his throat cutting him off. He paused, allowed himself a moment to breathe, and glared back at Devin. “Why do you want to be left alone, though? You’re sitting here by yourself and it’s worrying me!”
“It’s worrying you? Oh, sorry.” Devin sneered, pushing himself to his feet. “Look, I couldn’t give two-tenths of a ******** if what I’m doing is worrying you. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be with these assholes, and I don’t want to talk to you! Just leave me the alone!”
“No, I’m not going to leave you alone!” Laurel exclaimed, reaching out for Devin’s arm. “I heard what you said to dad, I know you’re mad at me about yesterday, and I’m sorry, but-”
“You were listening?” Devin shouted, slapping Laurel’s hand away and stepping closer to Laurel. “So now you’re eavesdropping? You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
“I-I-” Laurel stammered, looking left to right as Devin closed the gap between them. “I wasn’t sure where I was going to sleep last night, so I went to ask dad and I didn’t want to interrupt!”
“Oh, really?” Devin said, brows furrowing. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to consider that?”
“Huh?” Laurel asked, his expression growing confused. “What do you mean?”
“Nevermind.” Devin replied, turning to walk away from Laurel. “You wouldn’t understand and you never will.”
"That’s because you won’t give me a chance!” Laurel said, reaching out to Devin’s arm again. “Just stop and talk to me, pl-”
“I said <******** off!” Devin screamed.
The force of the shove that followed Devin’s voice caught Laurel completely off guard. He had just about enough time to process that he was falling backwards, fast, and could barely flail as his back hit the water. He gasped, inhaled a mouthful of freezing cold water, and closed his eyes as his body helplessly sank down toward the murky bottom of the lake.
(November 26th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 17, 2018 4:18 pm
“I didn’t mean to shove him into the lake.”
“We know you didn’t, but you shouldn’t have shoved him to begin with.”
“He wouldn’t leave me alone! Telling him to go away wasn’t working.”
“That’s because you told him to ******** off, if I recall.”
“Shut the hell up, Armaroq!”
“I don’t want to hear any more arguing! We need to focus on getting him warmed up and taking care of his fever. Has anyone gotten a hold of Oliver?”
“Not yet, but I'm trying his cell again, Matt.”
“Why did he leave anyway? He could have asked to borrow anything from us. There was never a need for him to go home.”
“I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason, Asher. Now, would someone go make themselves useful and get this poor boy a change of clothes?”
---
Upon waking up, Laurel knew something wasn’t right. First and foremost, he was still floating in the lake, but he couldn’t feel anything. He had no urge to breathe or panic to make him scramble to the surface. No feeling of being dragged down by his feathers or sinking. Just gentle floating, bubbles, and the light of the sun bobbing above him. Honestly, if curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of him, he might have stayed there.
But by breaking the surface of the lake, the discoveries continued. His body emerged without a drop of water and, instead of hovering as high as he usually did, he had risen high above the lake and could now see everything that surrounded it. The sheer beauty of the area grabbed his attention, then the web-like structure of the paths within the forest. Squinting hard enough revealed where the bird statue from earlier sat, and while he could have sworn it had a burning red glow, the revelation that he was weightless caught up to him first.
“This is so weird.” He said, looking from his hands and down to his ribbon. No, all of him was accounted for, so why did he feel like he was missing something? He scrunched his face in thought.
“Don’t make such a face. It might stay that way.”
“Huh?” Laurel said, quickly turning around. Nothing.
“Behind you.”
“What?” Laurel said, turning again and finding empty space. “... This isn’t funny. Where are you?”
“Perhaps turning your head and not your body could help you?”
Immediately, Laurel turned his head to look behind him. A pair of bright yellow eyes stared back at him from his shoulder, prompting him to flail his arm and scream.
“Calm yourself! I mean you no harm!”
“Y-you’re a bird! How are you talking?” Laurel cried, locking eyes with the bird.
“Ah! On the surface, yes!” The bird announced, hopping off from Laurel’s shoulder and floating in the space in front of him. “But, your naive eyes deceive you. I am no simple bird.”
“Well, of course not? You and I are kinda having a conversation here?” Laurel said, waving his hands about.
“Not a terribly congenial one at that, from how you’re reacting.” The bird said, shaking it’s head. “Allow me to fully introduce myself, then.”
With a quick bow, the bird burst into a flurry of light and feathers. Laurel braced himself, half-covering his eyes, and froze as a figure appeared before him. Flowing white robes, long golden hair, and bright piercing eyes… Laurel could do nothing but gawk.
“Impressed? Not that I blame you.” The figure quipped, smiling toward him. “You… Should close your mouth though. It doesn’t suit you.”
“This has to be a dream!” Laurel gasped, moving to slap at his cheeks. “Gotta wake up, gotta wake up!”
“Oh, please.” The figure sighed, gently taking Laurel’s hands. “Surely I’m not that terrifying?”
“Dude, you literally exploded and turned into a person!” Laurel exclaimed, looking left and right. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing about that, it’s so obvious that this is a dream.”
“Mm, not quite.” The figure said, chuckling lightly. “You’re neither awake nor are you dreaming. You’re astral traveling.”
“Uh… What?” Laurel asked.
“Astral traveling.” The figure repeated, slowly. “In layman’s terms, this means your conscious has left your body and has decided to go on a little trip. I suppose this is your first time realizing it?”
“... Yeah?” Laurel whined, his shoulders shrugging as he continued to look around. “... So, am I dead? Did I drown?”
“Heaven’s no, child! You’re very much alive!” The figure laughed. “All it means is that your conscious body has left your physical body. You’re still breathing and can go back to your body whenever you choose.”
“I… I don’t understand.” Laurel muttered, pulling at his hair and cheeks. “I’m right here. I can’t be in two places at once. That’s not possible!”
“First of all, stop harming yourself.” The figure said, once again holding Laurel’s hands down. “Second of all, I assure you. This is all very possible. Your body was carried away and is still in perfect working order. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Okay, but no?” Laurel said, staring wide-eyed at the figure. “I know you’re saying that, but I don’t believe it? ...I don’t even know who you are.”
“My apologies!” The figure said, patting their chest. “You may call me Judgement. I have taken it upon myself to guard you. There is no reason to fear me.”
“Guard me?” Laurel asked, furrowing his brow. “Why? Is there something wrong with me?”
“No, no!” Judgement replied, shaking their head. “But, I have observed your dreams recently. Quite a difference from the usual. I’m only here to make sure they mean you no harm.”
“You know about my dreams?” Laurel said, leaning back. “... What else do you know about me?”
“Ah… Well.” Judgement began, clasping their hands. “I know of your family, your friends, and how troubling your cousin’s behavior has been for you… However, if I may, I do have something to ask about you.”
“... And that is?” Laurel said, warily.
“Your feathers.” Judgement said, unfurling their wings from behind them. “Where did you get them from?”
“I, uh…” Laurel said, observing the sheer mass of Judgement’s wings. Whoa. Talk about goals. “I was born with them. They’re a part of me.”
“I can see that.” Judgement nodded, tilting their head. “But do you know where they came from?”
“Mmm… A bearded vulture?” Laurel replied, shrugging his shoulders. “They’re not like any other feathers, though. Mine are naturally heavy. They’re special.”
“Yes… Yes they are.” Judgement said, ruffling their feathers a bit. “I suppose the people who gathered them didn’t do much research, did they?”
“Uh… I wouldn’t know.” Laurel said, making a face. “I don’t know how Lab 305 gathers fel essences. I just know they used this one to make me.”
“Fel essence... I think I’m beginning to understand.” Judgement said, smiling. “I suppose there’s no helping it, then. You and I are tethered. Not that I mind. You’re not terribly hard to keep track of.”
“Hold on, what?” Laurel said. “I thought you said you were guarding me? Why are we tethered?”
“Because,” Judgement began, extending one of their wings and motioning to a messy, barren section. “Those feathers belonged to me. I was harmed several years ago and lost them. However, because they hold such an importance to me, I went to gather them once I’d recovered. I searched and searched, following words and tales from friends, until I found them within you. It is only right, then, that I keep watch over you.”
“Whoa… I had no idea.” Laurel muttered, holding a hand over his mouth. “... Would you like some of them back? I can pluck them off for you.”
“Please, no!” Judgement gasped, moving to cup Laurel’s cheeks in their hands. “You must stop plucking them! Allow them to grow in at their own pace!”
“Heh heh… Kinda too late for that?” Laurel chuckled, awkwardly. “I plucked them this summer because I almost drowned. They don’t seem to like water.”
“I know, I know! I was absolutely devastated!” Judgement said, flabbergasted. “Haven’t you ever heard of paper or plastic wrap? You could wrap them up and keep them from getting wet! There’s no need for plucking!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Laurel chirped, nudging Judgement away. “But, uh… Could I still pluck a few to give to friends? Is that okay?”
“... I suppose it is.” Judgement sighed, looking away and back to Laurel again. “Do try to keep some for yourself, though. I would like to see if you could grow a magnificent pair out of those bony stubs.”
“Do you really think I could grow them out like that?” Laurel said, his face lighting up with a grin.
“Yes, if you keep yourself in good shape!” Judgement said, giving Laurel a once over. “Though, the wings are only half of the look. You should see about growing out your hair as well. … I could see you with a lovely off the shoulder look, perhaps with a braid…”
“Ah-ha, okay!” Laurel chuckled, leaning out of Judgement’s reach. “... Not to say that I haven’t enjoyed talking to you while hovering five hundred feet in the air, but can we go find my body now? I think it’s getting late and my dad might worry if he finds me… Gone but not really gone?”
“Oh, yes, right! Let’s get you safely back before it gets dark.” Judgement said, taking Laurel’s hand. “Follow me, and don’t worry if we do anything strange. Trust in me that it’s normal.”
With Judgement’s guidance, Laurel was tugged through the forest and straight to the house. While he was busy processing the fact that they’d just phased through trunks, bushes, and walls, Laurel noticed his father chatting with Asher on the lower floor. He wanted to stop and call out, but Judgement nudged him through another wall and motioned to the center of the room before he could.
“There you are! Sleeping like a baby.” Judgement said, hiding a chuckle behind their sleeve. “But, as we both know, you’re really right here beside me. Isn’t that something?”
“... I don’t believe it.” Laurel said, breathlessly. Sure enough, there his body was, tucked under piles of blankets and breathing softly. How in the hell this could all be possible was beyond him, but all he could do for now was accept it. He motioned to his body and turned to Judgement. “Great, but how do I… Go back in?”
“Touch your forehead.” Judgement said, patting Laurel on the back. “And trust that I will still be with you when you wake.”
“... Right.” Laurel said, moving to hover over himself. God, looking at himself from above was the weirdest feeling ever. Did he really look like that? He took a breath, reached forward, and touched his forehead.
The next thing he felt was like falling, but more like cracking or slamming into something. He supposed it was like sliding into a tunnel and landing somewhere soft, but once he opened his eyes again, everything he’d been missing before came back with a force. He felt heavy, his throat and chest burned, and he immediately started coughing. There was no time for him between each hack and wheeze to realize that the door had swung open and Oliver had practically thrown himself next to him.
“My poor baby!” Oliver exclaimed, reaching behind Laurel and rubbing between his wings. “I don’t know what we can give you to soothe this fever or this cough! You sound terrible!”
“D-d-ad?” Laurel said, his breath choking under another round of coughs. “Whe-wher-”
“Shh, shh, don’t talk, save your voice…” Oliver said, moving his hands up to smooth Laurel’s hair. “Please, lie back down and try to rest. Your body’s fighting something awful, don’t worry about me.”
He propped Laurel’s pillows up and guided his head back down before rising to adjust the blankets. As he tugged each one over Laurel, he spoke.
“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here to check on you, sweetheart. I really am.” He said, looking solemn. “... Honestly, I’m beginning to think I made the worst decision for all of us by coming. Just look at what happened today! How could I think this was a good idea?”
He smoothed the blankets out and wiped his eyes.
“I know what happened between you and Devin today wasn't intentional, but I’m still disappointed in him.” He continued, sitting down and shaking his head. “He’s been acting so strange. More aggressive, more secretive… I don’t know what to do. I feel like I can’t break through to him anymore.”
There was a considerable pause after this where Oliver seemed to stare at the pictures on the wall. Laurel half-wondered if it would be wise to wiggle out from his blanket cocoon and rouse him, but then Oliver turned to look at him.
“I… Feel like I might need your help here, Laurel, as sad as it sounds.” He said, looking back to the pictures. “I mean, it’s not sad, but if I can’t get to the bottom of what’s wrong with Devin… Maybe you can? … I really don’t know what else to do.”
He took a deep breath in and reached out to tousle Laurel’s hair again.
“Don’t worry about it now, though. You’re in the worst state I’ve ever seen you in.” He said, chuckling shortly after. “Honestly, if I hadn’t seen you tucked in hours ago, I would have asked if you’d gone on a trip. You remind me of a weary traveler from one of those old movies…”
He rose and went for the door, but took one last look at Laurel before leaving the room.
“If you need anything, your phone and a bell are right there on the table.” He said, pointing. “If no one comes when you ring the bell, just send me a text and I’ll be right up, okay?”
Once the door closed, Laurel found himself staring at the ceiling. Despite how tired he felt, all Laurel could think about was what Oliver had said. Something was wrong with Devin and now it was up to him to figure it out. It seemed like an impossible task given Devin’s behavior and how Oliver had phrased it. … But maybe he could handle it? After all, Devin couldn’t stay mad at him forever, right? He huffed at the thought, coughed, and turned on his side.
“Sounds like you’ve got a mission on your hands, Laurel.” Judgement said.
“Mm.” Laurel hummed, pressing his face into the pillow. “... W-wait, where-”
“Hush now, sleep.” Judgement said. “You must gather your strength. All your worries can wait until another day. I am here.”
The feeling of a cool, gentle hand traced along Laurel’s brows and he released a long, soothing breath. No worries, no stress. Only a deep and restful drift into a much needed slumber.
(November 26th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 20, 2018 4:50 pm
“Hold on, my friend, please! Help is on the way!”
Laurel shuddered awake, the voice echoing off into the back of his mind as his eyes fluttered open. His sleep had been dreamless for once, but not completely devoid of feeling. He’d been comfortable in the darkness for hours, knowing full well that he was asleep and floating gently in place, like a leaf adrift on the surface of a lake. Being so rudely awakened, and by a stranger’s voice no less, was not well received. In fact, it made him grumpy, an emotion he rarely, if ever, felt. He was sweaty, achy, and absolutely not willing to face whatever was outside the door.
Still, he got up. Temptation and curiosity were things he could not ignore, and though he grumbled at himself, he hovered out into the hall.
The moonlight streaming from the windows around him should have been enough to tell him what time it was, but the clock on the wall ran it home. Two am. Far too early for him to be awake. But, if it really was that early, who had yelled outside his door? He hovered silently in the middle of hall, brows furrowed in frustration and contemplation, before a sudden bright light had him covering his eyes.
“A-ah, what’s that?” He squeaked, lowering his hands and squinting.
“Oh! It’s you!” Asher said, lowering the flashlight and chuckling. “I thought I heard someone yelling a minute ago. Was that you?”
“N-no,” Laurel began, glancing behind himself before moving toward Asher. “I heard someone yelling, too. That’s why I got up.”
“Hmm…” Asher hummed, rubbing his chin. “Well, unless something strange happens in the next few minutes, I guess I can dismiss it.”
“Something strange?” Laurel asked. “Like what?”
“You know, like portraits flying off walls, footsteps without a source…” Asher yawned. “The usual paranormal stuff.”
“Paranormal?” Laurel parrotted.
“... Your dad didn’t tell you that I’m a medium and a psychic, did he?” Asher asked.
"... Medium like in a shirt size?” Laurel asked.
“Holy s**t, Oliver.” Asher sighed, quickly motioning for Laurel to follow him. “Come with me and I’ll… Try to give you a gist… Mark’s still awake, too, he might like the extra company.”
----
Moments later, now comfortably tucked between Mark’s side and several soft pillows, Laurel tiredly watched Asher walk back and forth across the room. He didn’t seem to know quite what he was doing and Laurel wanted to tell him to stop, but a cough from Mark quickly grabbed both of their attention. Laurel could see the curve of a smirk through Mark’s mask and a glint in his eye. Maybe something about how Asher was acting amused him?
“I see that smile there, you joker.” Asher said, arching a brow at Mark. “Don’t you start laughing, though. I almost couldn’t get you back the last time.”
“What do you mean by that?” Laurel asked.
“Uh…” Asher paused, moving to sit on top of the bed. “Well… Uh… Mark stopped breathing and I had to revive him.”
“Oh...” Laurel said, looking down to the sheets sheepishly. “... Was it scary?”
“Well… Yeah.” Asher said, rubbing the back of his head. “... One of the scariest things that I ever had to do to.”
Once Asher’s voice trailed off, there was a period of awkward silence. Asher glanced off to the opposite wall, Mark’s smile drifted downward, and Laurel laid still in thought. This felt familiar, in a very odd, distant way. Lying here, pressed against someone, these sad, nervous feelings… There was this lump in his throat along with the soreness now, and a twinge of pain over his chest. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.
“M-my dad said that people go to the afterlife when they die.” He blurted, shaking as he spoke. “Is that true? Is there really something else after this?”
He clasped his hand over his mouth, a cough of his own bursting up against it, and looked to Asher. The other red-head looked shocked, but not angry, and more-so concerned. Laurel coughed again and a firm, but gentle pat struck his back. He heaved, looked to Mark, and breathed.
“I’m-um…” He said, pausing as Mark’s hand rubbed his back. “... Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Laurel.” Asher said, scooting close to Laurel. It was clear that his eyes were misting and he rubbed them in response. “The answer to your question is, yes. There is another place after this. A beautiful place where there is no pain, no illness, no oxygen tanks… No troubles at all, and everyone who goes there is safe and gets to meet everyone they loved here when they die too.”
He took a deep breath, aiming to keep himself calm, and continued.
“But, sometimes, people get stuck here when they die.” He said, waving his hand about ambiguously. “That’s where someone like me comes in. I feel the spirits and souls of people who got lost or held onto things when they died. I help guide them and release them from whatever is making them stay. Then they can go on to the beautiful place, too.”
“... Is that what you were looking for when you saw me tonight?” Laurel asked.
“Yeah. I thought maybe someone from the other side was visiting and needed my help.” Asher replied, laughing quietly. “But, I also wanted to make sure no one still alive was up or hurt. That’s first and foremost.”
“It’s good you found me, then, I guess.” Laurel said, smiling weakly. “... But I still don’t get this afterlife, you know? Why don’t we just stay here?”
“Uh… Because…” Asher said, his eyes drawing upward to the ceiling in thought. “Our bodies are not made to last forever. Eventually our bones and muscles get too tired to work anymore. Sometimes we have terrible accidents that make it impossible for us to function here like we used to, and… Sometimes…”
He looked to Mark, also drawing Laurel’s attention, and sighed.
“We get very, very sick, and we have to pass away.” He said. “It’s a sad reality, but it’s the one we have and we’ve got to stick with it. The promise of eternal life, free of pain after this is something to smile about, though, not be scared of.”
“... But-like-” Laurel said, a hand going to rub the side of his head. “How are you so sure that all of that is real?”
“That’s… Actually one of the perks of being someone like me.” Asher laughed, shaking his head. “Knowing that there are people here who need help to get to that place is more than enough proof for me. … But, there is also someone special who showed us that it’s real.”
He rose, walked across the room, dug around in a drawer, and returned to Laurel’s side with a book in his hand. He opened it, thumbed through the pages, and pointed to a photograph taped in the middle of the page. A short, freckled man wearing beautiful robes stood there, surrounded by a backdrop of thousands of flowers, smiling fondly toward the camera.
“This, Laurel, is Lord Ayergae.” Asher said, making sure Laurel got a good look at the photo before moving on. “And this is Mark, myself, and our friends with him about… Maybe thirty or so years ago?”
He turned his head back to Mark as though for confirmation and shrugged.
“I really should have dated these, but that doesn’t matter right now.” He continued, smiling at Laurel. "Lord Ayergae is our patron God and he showed us that there was an afterlife. An afterlife that he, himself, created. He also helped raise us a bit, but I digress.”
“A God…” Laurel muttered, staring at the photos in disbelief. He didn’t look like any of the Gods he’d seen in movies or tv shows. He looked kind, warm, almost like he’d reach right out of the photo and give him a hug. Still, the emphasis that Asher had given made Laurel more inclined to believe, and allowing himself to believe in this Ayergae was kind of the relief he’d been looking for. It would have been better if Asher had said that bodies could be fixed or made permanent somehow, but if that couldn’t happen, a smiling man and Asher’s words would have to do.
“Is it weird to say that I feel like he’s smiling at me?” He asked, offering Asher a more full-hearted smile.
“Dunno, but I bet he’d like to meet you one day.” Asher replied. “We haven’t seen him in a few years, now that I think of it. But, hey, he’s a God. Gods get busy. He’s probably talking to other Gods and doing other Godly nonsense. Like all Gods do.”
He and Laurel shared a laugh, before both of them looked to Mark again as he started to cough. It almost seemed like Asher’s worst fear was coming true when Mark grasped his chest and struggled to breathe, but after upping the dial on his oxygen and giving him a minute to recover, he waved Asher and Laurel away and the two red-heads were able to settle down where they'd left off.
However, any attempt at starting the conversation again was stopped by the sound of hurried footsteps running down the stairs, and into the room sprang Matthew. He stared at the bed, wide-eyed, and shook his head.
“Bless your souls, I thought it was the end.” He heaved, crossing the room and touching Mark’s head and then looking to Asher. “What are you still doing up? It’s three in the morning! You’ll be half-asleep tomorrow.”
“It’s my fault, Matthew.” Laurel said, rubbing the back of his head. “Asher and I thought someone was yelling earlier, but then he wanted to answer some questions I had.”
“It’s funny you should mention yelling.” Matthew said, pausing to think. “I thought I heard someone yelling, too. Something about holding on?”
“Yeah! That’s what I heard!” Laurel replied, nodding. “Asher also told me about Lord Ayergae. He looks nice.”
“Oh, yes! He certainly is.” Matthew laughed, glancing to Asher. “You both gave him quite a fair share of headaches when you were younger. Little hellions, if I recall.”
“Ha! All those pranks… Mostly done by me, I’ll admit.” Asher said, smirking. “It’s a wonder he stayed with us through everything. We really tested him, just as much as he tested us.”
“What did he test you about?” Laurel interrupted, leaning in between the two men. “Was it like a written test or something? My dad grades a lot of those.”
“Nah, nothing about writing.” Asher replied, waving a hand. “Though, he did teach us how to speak like the Gods. That was almost like being back in school.”
“That sounds awesome, though!” Laurel said. “Can you teach me? O-or wait, maybe, can he teach me?”
“Perhaps someday.” Matthew said, motioning to the door with his head. “But given how sick you were yesterday, I think it would be best if you head back to bed for now. Right, Asher?”
“Ah, yeah, right.” Asher agreed, giving Laurel’s arm a pat. “I can tell you more about Ayergae and all that tomorrow. You go on back to sleep.”
“Okay.” Laurel said. He was tired, but he still had so much he wanted to ask... He looked at the photos, placed them on the bed, and headed for the door. “Night guys!”
He hovered back into his room and quietly shut the door. All that information. Ayergae, the afterlife, how bodies were never permanent, it was all so intense… But what he found much more overwhelming was how familiar it felt. His father had told him about deja vu, but he was certain he’d never met Asher and Mark before. This was the first time he’d met these families, heard about these things, and it still felt like he’d been through this before.
Like he’d already experienced it.
But even "it" itself was a question.
Both the idea of death, the afterlife, Gods, and the current situation felt familiar, but in slightly different ways. He couldn’t figure out which of the two felt more familiar, or where the source of these feelings was in the first place. He hovered there, his back against the door, while he picked and prodded his mind for answers he was certain he had somewhere, but was at a complete loss to find. Why was he so sure he could figure it out anyway? That was another question, and he knew he’d keep finding more if he stayed there any longer.
“Gotta just… Believe, I guess.” He sighed, sliding himself under the covers. He let a few minutes go by with his eyes closed, before he pulled himself up again and looked around. “Hey, Judgement? Was that you who yelled earlier?”
He waited. He could heard the sound of wind outside the window. Branches creaked, leaves rustled, but no voice replied. He hummed, shrugged, and laid his head down. He’d gotten enough answers for one night. One question could go without for now.
(November 27th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2018 8:53 pm
The air took a chill on November 30th and the children of the house were all clamoring excitedly about a soon to be snow storm. Laurel, still clogged to the brim with whatever the hell had infected him, silently prayed for the opposite. Last year’s round of snow hadn’t been fun at all and he couldn’t think of why everyone else was so excited for it. Snow meant freezing cold, freezing cold meant discomfort, and if there was anything Laurel hated more than anything else, it was being uncomfortable. Even being under his blanket was uncomfortable. Though it kept him warm, letting it touch his face made him itchy, and he was beginning to think that pressing his face into the brick fireplace would be better.
“You alright there kiddo?” Oliver asked, peering at Laurel from under his blanket cocoon. “I swore you were getting over this. You poor baby.”
“Mmmpf.” Laurel huffed, his brows barely lifting in response. He took a breath, hoping to get another few words out, only to give into exhaustion. He sighed and slumped on his side, allowing the blanket to cover his eyes.
“Good idea. A nap will help.” Oliver said, patting Laurel’s head. “I’m going outside with the others, okay?”
“Mmmhm…”
Another thing. These crazy people wanted to stand outside and wait for the snow to start falling. The very idea sent shivers up his neck. He thought Oliver and Devin were out of their minds, not to mention everyone else. What was so great about snow? Nothing. It was frozen water and water sucked. He was half-cat, he knew what he was talking about, but everyone else thought it was spectacular.
He waited to hear everyone’s voices fade behind the back door before letting out a long growl and pressing his face into the couch. He wanted to breathe normally again. He wanted his throat and lungs to stop hurting. Hell, he even wanted to feel cold. Not freezing cold, but pleasantly cool. Like how you could be in summer when you went into a store after a walk around the block. God he missed summer. Summer didn’t hurt like this. Why couldn’t it always be summer? It was so much better than winter. Who’s big idea was it to make the seasons change? He’d like to give them a piece of his mind.
Beep. Beep. Beeeep.
“Eh?” He said, pulling his face off of the cushion and leaning toward the sound. Wasn’t that the monitor from Mark’s room? He shimmied upward, ears pivoting and turning, and dragged himself down the hall, his blanket trailing behind him. He stopped at the open door and peered in, his eyes falling from the bed, to the monitor, and then met Mark’s gaze.
“Sorry, just… Heard the beeping.” Laurel muttered, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. “... Are you alone?”
Mark was silent, but the glint in his eyes told Laurel everything. He hovered over to the bed and settled down next to Mark.
“I’m alone too.” He said, turning away to cough. “... Can’t go outside ‘cause I’m sick. You know?”
He watched Mark for a reaction and sighed at himself. Yeah, of course he knew. He felt stupid for saying it. He let himself lay against a pillow and looked up to the skylight in the ceiling. No snow yet, thankfully. Maybe if they were lucky there wouldn’t be any and everyone else could look stupid for standing outside in the cold for nothing. He smiled at the idea.
“I think they’re weird for waiting for the snow to fall.” He added, sniffling. “It’s just frozen water and water’s no fun at all. I don’t get why it’s so important.”
He waited again, hoping that Mark would motion to agree with him, but the man only gave him a quizzical look. What? He was right. Snow wasn’t important. It was cold and wet and horrible. He wrinkled his nose and blew a raspberry.
“Bleh, fine.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Guess I’m the only snow hater here. Yay for me!”
Mark seemed to scoff at him, something that only made Laurel want to sink further into the bed and forget all about the snow. He shook his head and moved to leave the bed, only to stop when he paused to look at Mark again.
“... You don’t want me to keep you company.” He said, brushing hair off his forehead. “My dad said I could get you si-”
He paused, realizing what he was about to say, and watched as Mark shook his head and patted right where Laurel had been. Yeah. It didn’t make sense not to keep each other company. They were both sick and alone. It only seemed right. Laurel took his place again and breathed deeply.
“I might fall asleep, is that okay?” He asked.
He watched Mark nod and shifted a bit, before allowing his eyes to flutter shut. The beeping from the monitor didn’t bother him and it even seemed to drift further and further away. However, at the same time, the air around him cooled and the warmth of his blanket seemed to disappear. He furrowed his brows, wiggled, and opened his eyes.
There was snow everywhere he looked. On the ground, in the trees, and falling heavily from the gray sky above. He braced himself for the cold, clutching his arms desperately, only to find himself already covered from head to ribbon with winter clothes. He glanced up, his breath making clouds of mist in front of him, and noticed a figure walking toward him in the distance. He froze, unable to discern who it was, and got pegged in the chest by a snowball. He flailed backward and ducked behind a tree.
“Ha! Gotcha!” The figure cheered, bounding forward and looking about. “Oh, come on, please tell me I didn't knock you back into your body with a snowball to the chest! That would be a new one.”
“A new what?” Laurel asked, peeking out. He didn’t recognize their voice, but they seemed to be worried about him.
“Aha! There you are!” The figure laughed, stepping quickly toward Laurel. They raised their arms outward and clasped Laurel in a hug. When they pulled away, a familiar face was smiling at Laurel, Mark’s. “What are you looking so dumbfounded for?”
“Y-you’re walking, and talking!” Laurel exclaimed, waving his arms about. “Dad said that was impossible, and weren’t we just-”
“My dad said this, my dad said that!” Mark mimicked, rolling his eyes. “Isn’t there anything you know that your dad hasn’t told you?”
“Uh…” Laurel trailed.
“Exactly! You’re being coddled too much.” Mark teased, motioning to out to the snowy forest around them. “What do you think of this, eh? Took me a lot of power to do, but hey, it’s gotta be used up now since I’m moving on.”
“It’s uh… It’s uh…” Laurel stammered, struggling to find one good thing he could think of. “It’s… Pretty?”
“Pfft, I guess you're serious about hating snow.” Mark said, smirking. He snapped his fingers and the sun burst out through the clouds. The snow around them melted, leaving them with the beautiful lush growth underneath. Once every bit of snow was gone, he looked to Laurel and winked. “Better, or should we go back?”
“No, no! This is way better.” Laurel said, marveling at the seamless transition from winter hellscape to summer paradise. “... But how did you do that?”
“It’s simple.” Mark said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m projecting this for us. You’re dreaming with me right now. Cool, right?”
“Oh! Like astral travel?” Laurel asked. “I just found out I could do that.”
“Whoa, you can? You should talk to Armaroq about that.” Mark exclaimed, before shaking his head. “But nah, this isn’t astral travel. It’s like… Lucid dreaming. Have you heard about that?”
“Nope.” Laurel said.
“Ah, no wonder. Lucid dreaming is really cool.” Mark said, moving his hands about and changing the flowers in the scenery. “The most basic idea is that you know you’re dreaming and you use that information to control your dreams. You can get so good at it that you can basically go anywhere you want. I’m such a pro, I can even dream about myself dreaming and control my dream from inside my dream.”
“Wow…” Laurel said, raising his brow. He didn’t quite understand the last part, but he’d take Mark’s word for it. “You can take yourself anywhere you want?”
“Anywhere, even outer space if I really wanted to get myself lost for a while." Mark said.
“Okay, so, why a forest?” Laurel said.
“Because this forest is somewhere I’ve spent a lot of time in.” Mark replied, snapping his fingers again. The warm summer forest burst into bright hues of orange, yellow, and red, and then another snap caused it to start raining. “Asher and I liked to walk through here when I was well. Even during storms it was my favorite place to be. We even went here with Oliver once. He said it brought him a lot of inspiration for poems. I think I still have one of them framed.”
He snapped his fingers again and turned the forest back into winter. This time, the snow was falling softly and he stuck out his tongue to catch a flake. Then, he sighed.
“Laurel, I hate to bring you down like this, but I don’t have much longer.” He said, looking Laurel straight in the eye. “I know we just met and you’re literally a year old… It’s gotta be crazy having to watch a complete stranger die because your dad knew him in college.”
“Mm… Kinda?” Laurel admitted, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m worried about you, though. I don’t understand why any of us have to die.”
“It... Sucks.” Mark said, taking a deep breath in. “But my faith in Ayergae is unwavering. I know he’s got a place for me. I’m going to be fine, and so are you.”
He walked forward and pulled Laurel into another hug, this time really holding him tight. The world around them began to shift and swirl and the beeping of the monitor could be heard coming from the distance.
“Take care of yourself, Laurel.” Mark said, clutching Laurel tight. “And make sure to keep an eye on that magic wand of yours. You might want to find yourself a teacher sooner rather than later!”
“Okay, I will.” Laurel said, wincing as the scratching pain in his throat came back. “But, wait, how did you kn-”
His body lurched up and he opened his eyes, again, to find himself back in Mark’s room. He paused, allowing himself time to breathe and process the shock, before the sound of the monitor caught his attention. A steady, sharp beep and a flat green line on the screen. His ears flattened against his head as he leaned over Mark.
“Hey, Mark?” He said, giving the man a nudge. “Mark?”
No response.
“How did you know I had a magic wand, Mark?” He pressed.
Still no response. Laurel felt something heavy welling up in his chest.
“Mark?” He said, lip quivering.
He tugged Mark’s arm and watched as Mark’s head rolled toward him. His eyes were wide open and rolled back into his head, while his mouth, breathless, hung agape with lips painted a deep, deep purple, a color that stuck out against the stark blue of his face. The arm Laurel held was stone cold, almost gray in hue, and completely lifeless. Laurel threw it back down, let out a shriek of horror, and scrambled under the bed.
He stayed curled up under there, blanket over his face, while everyone else ran in. Several people screamed and immediately started crying. Matthew begged Mark to come back. Someone ran back outside and others hurried to follow them. Then, the monitor was unplugged and all Laurel could hear was the sound of sobs and wails throughout the house. He held his breath in an effort to stifle his cries, but eventually crawled out from under the bed, gasping for air.
"Oh God, Laurel!" Asher cried.
"He's sweating bullets! How long has he been under there?" William asked.
"I didn't even notice him!" Armaroq said.
"He looks petrified! He must have come in before us!" Matthew wailed.
"Everyone move! Let me get to my child, please!" Oliver said, hurrying to pull Laurel out.
As soon as Oliver lifted him into his arms, Laurel pressed his face against his chest and clung to him as he was carried away. He felt the sting of the outside air blow over them before Oliver tugged the blanket over his shoulders and gently pat his back. They sat outside in silence for a while until Oliver, having been watching the sky, looked Laurel in the eyes.
"... Did you get scared when he stopped breathing?" He asked.
"I... Was asleep." Laurel muttered, his lips puckering. "The monitor woke me up and when I tried to wake him up, his face was blue..."
"Why did you go in there to begin with?" Oliver said.
"I didn't want him to be alone." Laurel replied.
"... I shouldn't have left you alone." Oliver heaved, blinking tears from his eyes. "I'm so sorry that you had to see him like that, Laurel. I'm so, so, sorry."
"It's... Okay." Laurel said, resting his head against Oliver's chest. "... Can we go back inside? It's cold."
"Absolutely." Oliver said. "I don't even know why we're out here... I guess I couldn't think of anywhere else to go."
The pair headed back into the house slowly, pausing only just before the door as the first flutter of snowflakes came down. Laurel allowed himself a moment to watch them and imagined that Mark was somewhere out in the woods, waiting for there to be enough snow to hurl another snowball at him. He pulled the blanket over his chest, looked to Oliver, and followed him back inside.
(November 30th 2017)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 06, 2018 1:09 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2018 3:47 pm
Time passed quickly for Laurel. The wheel of the year turned, the seasons waved by, and suddenly it was fall again. Last year he would have complained about the cold and covered himself with an entire closet of sweaters but, this year, he’d prepared himself. This time he’d donned himself in gradual layers of clothing. A long sleeve shirt, a comfy vest, and an oversized jacket did just the same amount of warming as two sweaters would without the extra weight and decrease of mobility, so now he could handle carrying pumpkins while making a beeline through the forest if he chose.
But, today wasn’t the kind of day for that. Gray clouds painted the sky and forest in a somber lull, not the kind of weather for pumpkin picking. Besides, he didn’t have anyone to go with. His phone had been pretty quiet. Sure, he’d seen some friends and sent out plenty of invites, but he rarely got a call back. It bothered him, maybe just a little, but he figured that everyone was busy going about their lives. In fact, his family had been pretty busy themselves.
“Going out, anyone wanna come?” He asked, holding the front door ajar. His eyes glanced over the living room, settling over Devin and Oliver who were still ever glued to their screens. Devin was probably trying to get a hold of CJ for the twentieth time today while, Oliver, who had long since gone back to work, was likely grading another set of papers. The latter raised his head, the glow of his laptop illuminating the underside of his eyes, and shook his head.
“You go on ahead, Laurel. I’ve still got work to do.” Oliver said.
“Kay.”
Going for a walk used to be something they did as a family, something they all enjoyed. Now, neither of them made any effort. The cheetah’s mouth twisted sourly as he hovered along, hands shoved in his pockets, and he forced his frustration down. There was no use in complaining, he’d tried that. Devin made excuses, argued, even said he didn’t have time. Oliver was stressed with work, his legs hurt, and convinced that Laurel could handle being on his own. Both missed the point completely out of ignorance he supposed, but it sucked that he seemed to be the only one making an effort to have some quality family time.
Even Sherwood, Rosie, and the rest of his family had gone quiet, but Laurel had gotten used to that. They were almost never around when Oliver wanted them to be. They only came around when they needed Oliver and it was infuriating to watch. Oliver spent so much time catering to their needs only to find himself more stressed than before and without the same respect in return. Laurel half-wondered if his father liked this treatment and if it was simply how families worked, but Devin had the same worries. He expressed them openly, though, with loud complaints that grew into arguments. Oliver would say he was fine, Devin would argue that it wasn’t, and Laurel would simply retreat to one of his distractions until it was over.
Speaking of distractions, the forest was a very good one. He could practically do whatever he wanted out here and never be reminded of the stupid s**t going on at home. He could throw rocks into the river, hover straight up over the trees and look out over the expanse, and even lean against a tree and stare at the sky until dark. There were no rules, no bounds, and no arguments to upset him out here. Just the peaceful chirps, bright colors, and endless paths to explore. All he had to do was choose which way to go and he was free.
A path covered with fallen leaves looked like a good place to start. The way they swirled up around his ribbon as he darted down made him feel so full of whimsy and wonder that he wished he could bottle the rush for later. The same sort of feeling happened in spring when the forest had a carpet of petals and blossoms, but not truly the same. Fallen petals felt like a revival, an answer to the prayer that winter would finally end, while fallen leaves heralded the coming of his birthday and the best holidays of the year. You couldn’t get these kind of feelings in summer or winter, when the forest became heavy with humidity and chill so deep that racing at all required effort and consideration. Spring and fall required neither of those things. They had perfect temperatures, comfortable weather, and had so much more meaning to them. A beginning and an end, both highlighted by bursts of scent and color; He wished they could be the only two seasons in the year.
He caught his breath when the path made a sudden curve to right and he didn’t recognize where he was. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten himself lost on a walk, but since he’d followed the path and hadn’t made any turns, he knew he could turn around and head back the same way to get home. However, it was still fairly early and he was in no hurry to go home just yet. As long as he left some kind of marker and didn’t go too far, he’d be fine.
“Hm, nothing really good for stacking around here.” He said, gently tossing a rock he’d taken from off the path up and down into his palm as he thought. He’d seen somewhere that hikers stacked rocks in a certain way to show what path to take and figured he could do the same, but none of the rocks around here seemed like they’d stay together. Maybe there were other ways to mark a path? He clicked his tongue and tugged his phone out of his pocket.
“Lost?”
“Wha?” Laurel chirped, his gaze snapping upward to the branches in front of him. He squinted into the shadows and arched a brow. Nothing there.
“Here.”
“Where?” Laurel said.
A sudden flapping sound from his shoulder sent him flailing and, to his surprise, a large black crow had found itself a perch there. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and shook his head.
“Judgement, I told you I’m allowed to be out here by myself.” He scolded, wagging a finger. Having a guardian angel had proven to be interesting, to say the least. Judgement was far more protective than Oliver was and often popped up on walks like this to talk and try to encourage him to go home. He wished, just once, that Judgement would want to hang out with him instead of pop in and out randomly. He gave the crow’s beak a boop and wiggled his shoulder.
“Seriously, let go! I’m fine!” He insisted, giving the crow an impatient glare. “I don’t need you to guide me home every time I go on a walk.”
“No judge, no guide.” The crow replied, bobbing it’s head. “Fine, fine!”
“Uh… Exactly?” Laurel said, brow furrowing in confusion. “... Are you feeling okay? You usually stop being a bird by now.”
He raised his hand, aiming to nudge the crow a bit off his shoulder. However, his phone slipped out of his hand as he did so and he fumbled to grab it. It almost hit the ground, only being saved by the crow as it caught it in it’s beak.
“Thanks.” Laurel sighed, relieved. “If that broke, I’d have no way of calling dad if I got lost.”
He reached out for it, only to watch as the crow jumped just out of reach. He shook his head.
“Okay, Judgement, seriously. Give it back.” He said, following the crow as it hopped around the path. He followed it in circles for a moment before making a lunge to grab it. He missed spectacularly, smacked his chin, and glowered as it perched high in a tree above him.
And so, the chase began. Both raevan and crow were fast, only Laurel missed about every single pounce he attempted to make. He hit his face on trees, landed in several bushes, and inhaled dirt so much that he had to take time to recover. By the time he realized just how far he’d strayed from the path, he’d gained several bruises and ripped his jacket. The crow, proud of itself, sat on the top of a wall and bobbed. Laurel, fury in his eyes, scaled the wall and made a grab for it.
“Gotcha now!” He announced, just as he processed that he’d missed again and plummeted straight over the wall. He landed face first into a thorn bush, yowled, and tugged himself out hissing. The only thing that stopped him from going any further was the sight of blood dripping down over his eye. He touched his forehead, cheeks, and eyes, before letting out a scream.
“Titus, what have you done now?” A voice bellowed.
Laurel curled up defensively, fruitlessly wiping at his face with thorn covered sleeves, and looked up to see a figure in a dark cloak bending down next to him. The figure wrestled his arms away from his face, gasped, and pulled Laurel up with them.
“Inside, quickly, before you get one in your eye!” They cried, tugging Laurel toward a house. “I swear to God if this child goes blind, I’m turning that bird into soup!”
(October 2018 )
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2018 7:25 pm
The raw sting of a cotton ball soaked in iodine was an experience that was never going to get better over time. There was also no use trying to avoid the person trying to apply it to his already broken skin. It would be going on whether he wanted it to or not, especially in this circumstance. Having his eyes squinted shut made it difficult to physically protest without accidentally slapping the person away, and since he knew this person was trying to help him, he didn’t want to hurt them. The most he could do was grunt, whine, or lean away with each application, all of which made him look very pathetic. It also didn’t help that there happened to be a certain phone-stealing flying nuisance trying to make a landing on his shoulder every chance it could.
“Titus, to your perch for the last time.”
Laurel winced. Another dab under his eye. He had to wonder if this was really all the world had to offer for wound care. Something that hurt this much didn’t seem very practical. He took a breath and slowly opened his eyes.
Immediately, judging by the decor, he could tell that the owner of this house valued nature, organization, and comfort. Everything was made of wood, from the walls, to the floor, to all the little shelves and hooks on the walls. The shelves themselves were littered with labeled jars filled with powders, leaves, flowers, and liquids organized by size, shape, and color. In the corner across from his chair was a sitting area complete with a couch, a big reclining chair, and a bean bag chair that surrounded an old cast iron furnace that was already lit and warming the room. He had just enough time to a notice a blue backpack leaned up against the wall when the man from before came back around the hallway.
“Can you see alright?” The man asked.
“Yeah, everything looks normal.” Laurel replied.
“Good, good!” The man chimed, sitting himself down in a chair in front of Laurel. “... You’ve got a pair of interesting eyes.”
“Thank you…?” Laurel said, arching a brow. “What’s your name?”
“Did I really-” The man muttered, shaking his head and tossing his hand out toward Laurel. “My name is Thomas Linderhill. I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself, I didn’t intend to be rude.”
“No worries! Better late than never?” Laurel laughed, shaking Thomas’ hand eagerly. “My name’s Laurel Kipling. I’m uh… Sorry about earlier.”
“What about it?”
“Chasing your bird into your yard and falling in your bushes?”
“Oh, that! Don’t apologize, if it’s anyone’s fault for that, it would be Titus.” Thomas said, looking off to the side as the bird hopped into view. “Isn’t it, you little thief? Going about taking someone else’s phone. Go on, what should you say?”
“Soup!” Titus cawed.
“No, that’s what I said I should make out of you.” Thomas grumbled, rolling his eyes and looking to Laurel. “I jest, of course. He’d be of very little, if any, nutritional value.”
“Ha-ha, yeah…” Laurel said, glancing awkwardly to Titus. “Where is my phone anyway? Is it broken?”
“A little scuffed, but functional. I took the liberty of charging it for you! Let me go get it.”
“Thanks.”
Once Thomas left the room, Laurel locked eyes with Titus. There was a very primal instinct that he had trouble ignoring. One to lunge forward, again, and chase Titus around the room. Thankfully, unlike before, the element of a nearby burning fire and several breakable jars kept Laurel right where he was. He wasn’t about to destroy this house for the sake of revenge. Instead, he turned his attention to that very fire and tried to ignore the feeling.
“Stupid!” Titus cawed.
“What the hell did you just say?” Laurel snapped.
“Stu-pid!” Titus repeated, flying down from his perch and hopping over to Laurel. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”
“Listen, I’m not about to have a repeat of what happened before, alright?” Laurel said, leaning over the chair. “Be qui-”
The sound of something falling to the ground caught both bird and Laurel off guard. As though in sync they both looked to the object that had fallen out of Laurel’s jacket. Laurel recognized it as the wand he’d gotten a year ago. The wand he’d left at home in his drawer this morning. The wand he knew he hadn’t taken with him. He hesitated, staring Titus down, and snapped it up off the ground as Thomas entered the room again.
“Here’s your phone! I forgot I left it in the kitch-” Thomas began, before his brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
“A… Wand?” Laurel said, pushing himself into an upright position. “I got it as a gift last year. Must’ve forgotten that I brought it with me, though.”
Except he’d seen it in his drawer. The same drawer he kept his phone in while it was charging. He was absolutely certain he hadn’t taken it with him. He stared at it, his lips twisting in thought, before he realized that Thomas had leaned in to stare at it too. Surprised, he offered it out to him.
“It’s pretty cool looking.” He added.
“Yes… The way the wood has been braided is rather striking.” Thomas agreed, turning the wand around in his hand. “It also has a unique energy to it, very light and pure. Though…”
Thomas rose and crossed the room with purpose, heading straight for a drawer underneath a collection of jars and digging around until he produced a book from the sea of papers within. He flipped it open and thumbed through the pages while he kept the wand level and steady in his free hand. His postured reminded Laurel of how Oliver often stood in doorways mulling over a letter or a paper he wasn’t sure of how to label, almost right down to how his mouth drew into a pucker right as he clapped the book closed again and pressed his wand-clasped fist to his cheek. A moment of pensive foot-tapping later, he turned back to Laurel.
“A strange one, nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He remarked, a grin bringing a sparkle to his eye. “Would you mind if I borrowed it for a few days? For a bit of research? I promise I’ll return it as soon as I’ve finished.”
“I-uh… Sure?” Laurel said, shrugging. “Is it really that special though?”
“That’s what I’m looking to discover!” Thomas announced, striking a pose and pointing the wand toward a wall. “It’s certainly new to me and I’ve spent most of 'my life studying magic and researching all kinds of natural materials. Finding something I’m not familiar with is as perplexing as it is exciting!”
He returned to a normal stance and turned the wand over again. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re letting me take it, especially if it was a gift. Are you sure you won’t need it?”
“Yeah, no, I won’t need it.” Laurel said. He was sure he could manage going without closing his blinds without getting out of bed for a few days. It was all he used that wand for anyway. “But uh… What exactly are you? Some kind of wizard?”
“PFFFT-” Thomas heaved, covering his mouth with his arm as he laughed. “Forgive my laughter, but yes? I do prefer the terms sorcerer or mage, though. I find them a bit more refined-or dignified-if you will.”
“Sorcerer, mage, got it…” Laurel said, his ears flattening down under his hat. If there was any way this situation could get more awkward or embarrassing, he prayed that he wouldn’t stumble right into it. “Anyway, about my phone?”
“Ah, sorry!” Thomas said, reaching into his cloak pocket and handing the phone over. “Almost like an exchange, eh? Oh, wait, let me uh-” He paused, turning rapidly and fussing. “I seem to have misplaced my cell phone, would you mind writing your number down in this book instead? It has a built in pen.”
“Okay.” Laurel said, taking the book and jotting his number down. “This is a nice journal by the way. I like the design on the front.”
“Thank you, I made it myself.”
“Really? How’d you do it?”
“Years of practice and patience.”
“Just for one journal?”
“Ha! No, to learn the process. Leather working is an art, you don’t learn something as complicated as that in one attempt, just like magic. Am I right?”
“Y-yeah, I get’cha.” Laurel said, handing the journal back with an awkward smile. “... I’d better head back home. Thanks for fixing my face up.”
“Well, I couldn’t leave you like that! You did land in my backyard.” Thomas said, looking sheepish for a moment. “Say, why don’t I give you a ride back home? It’ll be dark out soon and the forest around here can be confusing at night.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I can make it home on my own.”
“Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
“I’m sure, it’s close.” Laurel dismissed, waving his hand. “Just uh… Give me a call I guess? When you’re done with my wand?”
“Of course! No sooner, no later!” Thomas agreed, motioning toward the hallway. “Let me show you the way out.”
Laurel followed Thomas though the hallway and to the front door. Titus, who seemed to be keen on observing, went straight to Thomas’ shoulder and puffed up as the door was opened.
“Get lost!” Titus squawked.
“I am, you stupid bird.” Laurel grumbled, before flashing an apologetic look to Thomas. “Talk to you soon?”
“Yes, take care now!” Thomas said, waving to Laurel as he hovered away. “Oh, quick word of advice! Try to stay on the path!”
“Get LOST!” Titus repeated louder, flapping his wings furiously as Thomas placed a hand on his head.
“Thanks!” Laurel called, ignoring Titus' off-putting tone. Try to stay on the path? That was a bit obvious, wasn’t it? There was no need to tell him that, he’d be fine.
(October 2018 )
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 15, 2018 2:45 pm
He was the opposite of fine. The path, having gotten progressively overgrown the further he went, had pretty much vanished beneath Laurel’s ribbon and become more of less impossible to find. He’d gotten on his hands and felt around thrice, as though he were someone who lost their glasses instead of someone who’d gotten himself completely and hopelessly lost. Why hadn’t he accepted the ******** ride when it was offered? Yes, Thomas was a perfect stranger and talking to him had been nearly as awkward as being the center of attention at Marcus’ goodbye party last year, but he’d also taken the time to pick a myriad of thorns off of his face and cared enough to ask? Also, why hadn’t he taken Thomas’ number? Why didn’t he think to simply call his father right there? None of this had gone through his mind except for right now while he’s charging through God knows where grabbing the sides of his head and on the verge of screaming.
Seriously, for someone who was the combination of an apex predator and a bird of prey, he was doing a s**t job of representing either of his species at this moment. No foresight, no instinct, just a whole lot of hindsight and anxiety-inspired impulsivity. He’d really gotten all the looks and none of the brains, here. Even trying to use his phone was too much of a struggle for him to accomplish under the extreme amount of adrenaline and terror he was experiencing. He’d flipped that poor machine out of his fingers and into the bushes so many times now just by shaking alone that it was a wonder it didn’t shatter like glass when it hit the ground. He’d have to get a grip, literally, if he wanted to make it home tonight in one piece.
“Come on, pick up!” He whined, sputtering in disbelief as the home answering machine came through.
“Hi you’ve reached the Kipling household! Leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!”
“Dad, Devin, are you there? I’m lost!” He cried, nearly dropping the phone again as he spoke. “Please, I have no clue where I am and it’s getting dark! I’ve been wandering around for hours!”
Okay, that was a complete exaggeration. It was maybe an hour, give or take ten minutes. But getting turned around again and again made him feel as though he’d been lost for three or four. Combine that with the sun going down and a feeling of impending doom and you’ve got the perfect mixture for over-the-top embellishments of reality. He dialed the number again.
“Hi you’ve reached the Kipling household! Leave a message-”
“Where did you two go?!” He screamed, clutching the phone tightly in his hand and taking a deep breath. No, crushing his phone would be a terrible idea. He needed it and he needed to calm the ******** down. Freaking out wasn’t working, but it felt like the only thing he knew how to do. He was so lost, he was so lost, oh God he was going to be lost forever!
“Please, someone, anyone?” He whimpered, readying his hand to redial.
However, just as his thumb moved to press the button, a sudden flash of light crossed his vision. He shielded his eyes and cowered by a tree as the light moved over him and drew closer.
“The ******** are you screaming about?”
“Devin!” Laurel chirped, flinging his arms around his cousin. “Thank God you found me! I couldn’t figure out where I was and the path got so confusing and-”
“Wait, you’re just getting back?” Devin interrupted, arching a brow.
“Well, yeah! Didn’t you hear my message? I called the house twice!”
“No, dumbass. I’ve been out too.”
“... Oh. Where?”
“Meeting CJ.”
“Figures. I get hopelessly lost and you’re out having fun with your boyfriend.”
“... Not my boyfriend anymore.”
“SERIOUSLY?” Laurel gasped.
“Yeah, not my friend either. Figured out he’s been seeing other people behind my back. I don’t have time for that s**t, you know?”
“No, actually, I don’t. What do you mean by seeing other people behind your back?”
“Like… Cheating on me.”
“Nope, still not following.”
“Laurel, you’ve got to start going outside more for the sake of my sanity and your goddamn health.”
“What the hell does that have to do with what you’re saying? I’m the only one who’s been going outside lately, anyway. You and dad are the ones who need to get out more.”
“You know what? I promised dad I’d let him handle this s**t, but you’re going to be eaten alive if I let you keep going like this.” Devin sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “Just… Meet me upstairs in my room and I’ll explain. Don’t tell dad I met with CJ tonight, though, alright?”
“Whatever you say, Dev.” Laurel agreed.
(October 2018 )
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 16, 2018 1:30 pm
Immediately upon entry, Oliver was discovered passed out across the couch with a pair of earbuds in. An ongoing audiobook greeted Laurel with a rough, masculine tone. Without any context the dialog made little, if any, sense, and it was no wonder to Laurel how his father could nod right off to it. He paid a final stop at the answering machine to delete the messages he’d left before heading up the stairs and ascending into the attic.
Since Devin had moved in permanently last year, the attic had progressively become the teenager’s living space. Where there once boxes of Oliver’s memories and miscellaneous holiday junk lay articles of clothing, comic books and magazines, and the odd plastic takeaway container that still smelled reminiscent of pork buns from the ramen place downtown. Certain things were hung up lazily on wire hangers or over furniture, like Devin’s favorite plaid jacket and a pair of weathered jeans, but things like socks were simply set up against the old television that sat adjacent to Devin’s bed. Laurel mulled over the mess a moment before turning his attention to his cousin who had been rummaging around just out of view.
“Can’t find something?” He asked, sarcastically.
A series of small objects slid off of the pile of things Devin was searching through as the teenager moved. He sighed, paying Laurel a rather exhausted eyeroll, and scooped the objects up.
“I regret teaching you how to sass people.” He said, adjusting his hold on the pile of objects and crossing the room. “Though, I guess if you want to survive being a part of this family, you’re going to have to develop a thicker skin.”
“What do you mean by that?” Laurel asked.
“I mean-” Devin said, dropping the items on his bed and hopping onto it. “That uncle Sherwood is a giant passive aggressive a*****e and aunt Rosie basically only cares about herself. Just the facts.”
“Okaaay, but what does that have to do with what you said before?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Then why would you tell me?”
“Because you deserve to know.” Devin said, shrugging. “But you’re right, that’s not what I brought you up here to talk about. Come sit with me.”
He patted a spot beside him and adjusted himself so he would be cross legged and facing Laurel. Once the cheetah had settled himself enough, the teenager clasped his hands and took a deep breath.
“Cheating, Laurel, is one of the worst things you can do in a serious romantic relationship.” He explained, looking up as he thought. “It means that while CJ and I were dating, he decided to start dating someone else and didn’t tell me. That’s not how dating works, unless you agree to let your partner date other people from the start, but that’s not how CJ and I were.”
He raised his hand and wiped at his eye with the bottom of his palm.
“It’s a really, really shitty thing to do to someone. Like, the epitome of shitty things.” He said, sniffling. “You love that person and think they love you back but then they go and tell someone else the same exact s**t and you’re left feeling like you weren’t special to them at all. It really ******** hurts.”
He leaned forward, pressing his face into his knees, and sighed.
“I just… Broke up with him, Laur.” He continued. “Nothing else to do. I couldn’t deal with it. The worst thing is knowing that he’s probably hanging out with the other guy right now. I don’t want to think about it.”
The room drew quiet while Devin wiped his eyes and Laurel tried to process everything he’d just been told. The wind outside blew against the house, causing the ceiling above them to croak and crack, and a whirl of anger slowly brewed within Laurel. It was an warm, protective anger, one he’d felt nearly two years ago when he’d met Thatcher. His shoulders stiffened and he wrapped his arms around Devin.
“Don’t.” He said, the word forming like a stone against his bottom lip. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“I.. Know.” Devin replied, looking bleary eyed up to Laurel. “But-”
“None of that s**t.” Laurel said, shaking his head. “But this, but that. It’s just like with your stupid father, Dev. You gotta stop.”
“Why’re you bringing him up? This is totally different.”
“No it isn’t. Both of them upset you like this. I don’t get how it’s any different.”
“Because dad left all of us, not just me.”
“But he still lied to you about staying, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll give you that, but it’s not the same kind of hurt.”
“I happen to think no one should be hurting you at all.”
“Same here, but ******** me I guess?”
Another period of silence followed. The pair of redheads looked off in different directions with similarly twisted faces. Laurel, still incensed, then stood.
“Still, neither of them deserve you.” He said, grabbing Devin’s hands and staring him in the eye. “And I think CJ’s a total piece of s**t for doing this to you. Where does he get off treating you like this? Doesn’t he know I could beat him up?”
“PFFT!" Devin laughed. “I am not letting you fight my ex! Dad would lose his mind on both of us.”
“We could, like… Not tell him?” Laurel suggested, jokingly.
“Sure, and how would I explain what happened while I'm carrying your floppy KO’d body up the stairs after you lose?”
“I don’t know, because I wouldn’t lose.”
“Dude, you’re scared of the beeping the fridge makes if it doesn’t close properly. I’m not letting you fight a fly.”
“Geez, would it kill you to have a little faith in me?”
“Sorry, you’re just so fun to tease.”
“Hmph.” Laurel huffed, crossing his arms. “Alright, if I can’t beat him up, what’re we going to do about it?”
“Uh… Nothing, actually.” Devin said, leaning against the wall. “I’m done yelling at him for it and it’s pointless thinking about it, so I guess the best revenge is just moving on?”
“Oh.” Laurel said, breathing in and shoving his hands in his pockets. “But what’s that going to do? I think giving him a punch to the head might leave him with something more than if you just stop talking to him.”
“Mmm… Think of it this way.” Devin said, his attention turning to the pile of objects he’d gathered before. “If he decides he wants to care or wants me back, seeing how far I’ve gone without him might hurt more later than getting a punch to the face now. You understand that?”
“Heh, I guess.” Laurel shrugged, following Devin as he looked through the pile. “... What’re all these books for? Do you have to study or something?”
“No. You do.” Devin said, handing Laurel a book from the pile. “Listen, I can’t cover everything that there is to know about life for you, so start with this. Hopefully this’ll educate you on a few things.”
“Your Body and You...” Laurel muttered, arching a brow at the smiling people on the cover. “Uh… Thanks? I’ll start reading it tonight before bed.”
“You do that.” Devin snickered, giving Laurel a pat on the head. “Wanna play some Street Fighter first, though? You talking about fighting made me want to go a few rounds.”
“Sure, but I’m gonna beat you this time!”
“In your dreams! You're going down, little brother!”
(October 2018 )
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
