littlefrostwrites

[littlefrostwrites]

Orphan Prodigy

Darcy kneels on the ground, the deep red of the carpet of the throne room under her knees. Her arms are stretched out in front of her, the skirts of her glossy black dress spread out around her. She cannot feel her right leg, the position having made it fall asleep, completely numb, nearly two hours ago. Her neck feels sore pressed against the floor and she’s been fighting off sleep for the last ten minutes. Her father and mother lay in twin caskets just two metres away from her and if she tilts her head slightly, she can see the tear tracks on her older sister Charlotte’s face where she kneels prostrate too a few feet away. 

And yet, despite all of this, Darcy doesn’t remember feeling so happy in her entire life. 

No, perhaps happy isn’t quite the right word. There’s been a feeling expanding from the center of her chest since this morning when the magic bracelets binding her were finally taken off for the last time. Darcy is not sure if it’s just her magic she feels under her skin, ready to be used, or another feeling that she’s never felt before, only read about, and therefore hard to identify. Freedom.

*****

Things move quickly after that. Darcy and her sister finish their twelve hour vigil to honour the death of their parents and twelve hours after that is Princess Charlotte’s coronation. As Darcy pledges allegiance to her sister, she cannot help the look she exchanges with her. She is proud of her sister, proud of them together as a unit, of how far they’ve gotten. And she is excited for how far they have yet to go. 

The next day, Charlotte makes her first action as Queen to be removing the death sentence for all acts of magic. Instead, she declares, staring over the balcony of their tower, all indiscretions will be judged on a case by case basis like they used to be, before their kingdom shut their borders and declared war on the magical kind. She also announces that their knights would be slowly withdrawn from their posts in neighbouring kingdoms, with the aim of their fully army being home by the summer solstice, six months away. A week later, she’s back on that balcony declaring that Prince Kai and Princess Cress, from XXX have accepted her invitation to engage in diplomatic talks and would be arriving at the end of the month.

None of this news is taken smoothly by their citizens. There is a riot lead by the more brazen 

Rest of outline

Magic no longer outlawed in the kingdom - but there are riots and wars started from neighbouring kingdoms as a result

Instead of diplomacy, decide to wage war in response

Marriage scene to prince of other magic country - previously enemy country - younger sibling is crying, but not in happiness like everyone thinks, but bc come to the realization of the sacrifices that their sibling had to make in order to make this all possible

Basically their kingdom is absorbed into the other kingdom 

Flashback: letters being exchanged with neighbouring kingdom and then burned

Scene of them performing evil acts in the name of “justice” 

Flashback: the king and queen acting cruelly to the younger sibling, presenting the cuffs to the younger sibling, the younger sibling falling ill bc of the potions that they made them drink

Plan to kill husband as well to take over both kingdoms and fully get freedom

Flashback: Older sibling proposes plan - asks younger sibling if will take part in killing their parents. Younger sibling agrees - hope for a brighter, fairer future.  

Flashback: The king is dead - someone poisoned him

Flashback: reports that the queen is dead - was attacked near the border and killed

Brief scene of remorse: on battle field, see how much destruction how many lives ruined. Was it worth it?

Looks down at wrists, no more magic cuffs. Yes

[littlefrostwrites]

Prompt: a group of boys find a dead body

for my writing challenge

Kell puts his phone down on his desk, having just finished a phone call with a client. He had good news for her today, happy he was able to let her know that the opposition had decided to settle [description of case here]. It had been nice to hear her happy and grateful voice when he call, but he admitted it had been far more satisfying to see the opposing lawyer’s face when he had executed the winning move. He shrugged his suit jacket back onto his shoulders, having removed it early when he felt warm. But now he wanted to feel put together, as he headed to his managing partner’s office to report the good news. 

He swept through the doors, not bothering to knock as he could see through the glass that she wasn’t busy.

“I settled the London case!” he declared, dropping the file on Astrid Athos’ desk and plopping into the seat across from her. She didn’t look up from where her eyes were fixed on the screen of her laptop.”

“That’s great,” she said. Kell frowned. “But it’s just pro bono. None of that money is going to the firm.” At this, she finally looked up and took off her glasses. She was unimpressed. 

“Yes, but it does make our firm look good, doesn’t it, to be taking on all these pro bono cases, and not only that, but also winning them. So spectacularly as well!” Kell laughed. “You should have seem opposing counsel’s faces-”

“Yes it’s all very well a good that we won, but it needn’t have been you.” Kell sighed as Astrid launched into a well trodden argument. “As a firm, I agree we have to do pro bono, but that’s what we have associates for. You don’t only don’t pass off your mandatory two cases per year to associates as most partners do, you’ve already taken on triple that number this year. And it’s only March.” 

“What can I say, I’m a benevolent guy,” Kell quipped. It was lighthearted in delivery, but they both knew it wasn’t truly. Astrid got up from behind the desk and walked over to where Kell was sitting. He stood up, uncomfortable with her looming over him. This way, he was taller and felt more in control, and so when she put a hand on his cheek gently, it didn’t sting as much. 

“Son, you are a good person. You don’t have to keep making up for the past.” She let her hand and her words linger for a few seconds, before retracting her arm and turning back to her side of her desk. “Besides, you left your silly dreams of civil law behind a long time ago and are a corporate lawyer. And in this field, you do what is best for the firm. What is best for this firm is for you, our highly skilled junior partner, to continue winning cases for paying clients. So I ask that you focus on that for the remainder of the quarter. Do you understand me?” Kell sighed and then nodded sharply.

“Yes.”

_____

Delilah is in the kitchen when Kell finally gets home around 8 PM, the table set and the food cold on top it. She’s not mad though, just greets him with a kiss, asking him how work was and chiming, “You work so hard!” when he told her briefly about his day. They eat dinner in silence, a simple pasta salad. Delly had grown up in a house with not one, but multiple maids to clean the large rooms and cook for her family of six. When they moved in together, Kell had refused Delly’s inquiry of hiring a maid for themselves, citing that two young professionals should be able to also keep the house clean and cook for themselves. When she had accepted his marriage proposal though, she had made him promise that they would at least get a nanny when they eventually had a child. He had agreed reluctantly, supposing that hiring on one staff wasn’t all that uncommon and would necessarily write them off as rich and out of touch. He hoped. 

He asked after Delly’s day as well, which had ended at 4 pm as it always did. She informed him that she had lunch with a number of sponsors, pitching to them the mission of the non-profit that she worked at rather successfully too. Delly was good at her job, and people instantly took to her, charmed by the story of the daughter of the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world using her business degree to work for a non-profit that paid far less than reasonable to support the luxuries that she was accustomed to. What was often left out of the conversation was hefty trust fund that had be deposited into her account at the age of 25 and the company shares that her father had bought in her name since she was four years old. 

Image mattered though, and Delly was perfect for Kell, not only because she was genuinely kind and wanted to help people, but also because she was beautiful, well-connected and had a do-gooder reputation. And Kell was perfect for Delly, a lawyer at a firm that often took on high-profile pro-bono cases, showing they cared about the public, but also a corporate lawyer, with a salary that meant they and their children would never want for anything, even without any of Delly’s family money. 

“Dinner with your parents tomorrow,” Delly reminded him once they had finished dinner and gotten ready for bed. They were lying together in the center of the bed, with his arm around her and her head tucked against his chest. They felt perfect together like this, Kell thought to himself. The kind of couple you would see in a movie, the couple you would root for because they just seemed to fit. 

“Right, 6 pm yeah?” Delly hummed in agreement before extracting herself briefly from his arms to turn off the light on the nightstand. Then she was back again and Kell found himself drifting off to sleep. 

***

Delly and Kell have dinner with his parents once a month, and have dinner with her parents once a month as well, alternating every two weeks to be fair. Today is a Tuesday and they make the forty minute drive from their condo downtown to the very outskirts of the city, watching as the skyscrapers vanish and are replaced by highways, trees and hills, and grand mansions. They park on the driveway of the largest one on the block, a pure ivory two story with five garages and a lakefront view. The first time Kell had brought Delly over, she had spent most of the meeting gushing with his mother about interior design, complementing her exquisite and classy taste in decor, and gathering inspiration for their future house. Kell knew that Delly was already scoping out the market on top of her involvement in their wedding preparations, and had even gone to a couple of open houses with her mother. 

Astrid and Athos greeted Delly and Kell with hugs, before graciously accepting the cherry pie that Delly had baked, instructing the maids to take it to the kitchen to keep warm until it was time for dessert. 

They settled down for their meal and made idle small talk, before Athos spoke more purposefully.

“Kell, I heard that your highschool class is having their ten year reunion this weekend?” He looked pointedly at his son. “Are you planning to make an appearance?”

“Oh we should! It would be so nice to meet some of your old classmates!” Delly exclaimed before Kell could respond. 

“Yes, I think it’d be a good opportunity to touch base with them, reminisce on old times and also, show them your achievements, how much you’ve changed and grown since you all saw each other last.” Athos gives Kell a meaningful look and Kell understands what he’s getting at. He considers for a moment and then says,

“I’d forgotten that was coming up. Yes I agree, it’d be good to make an appearance.” Delly made an excited noise at that and they continued on with their meal.

Later, as they were getting ready to leave, Astrid took her son aside.

“I’m proud that you’ve decided to see your highschool classmates again. I know it must have been hard for you to make that decision.”

“I think it’s time to confront them, don’t you? I’m a different person now, and it’s time to show them all that.” Kell’s voice was steady with conviction, but inside he felt a bit uneasy, a ball of anxiety starting to unfurl. He tapped it down and smiled at his mother. “I’m sure it’ll go fine. And Delly’s so excited to meet everyone, I’m sure she’ll smooth over any awkward moments.” 

“Yes I’m sure it’ll go great, you’ll both impress everyone. Delly was such a good choice for you, she brightens your whole demeanor.” Kell sniffed at that remark, but gave his mother a kiss of the cheek goodbye and his father a hug, finally leaving with one last remark that he would see Astrid bright and early tomorrow at work. 

Scene 3 (unfinished): The reunion happens and goes well. Catches up with boys. No classmates approach them at first, but then slowly some people integrate. Main character repeatedly points out good deeds he has done. Gets internally angry when another classmate takes attention off him recounting his probono work. But halfway through, some of the classmates take the stage to commemorate the death of one of their classmates.  Fiance, “you never told me someone in your class died?”. The word “suicide” is explicitly used at one point. When getting refreshments, Fiance asks him if he knew the other boy well bc he seems “sad”. He mutters not really, is overhead by another classmate. They confront him about it, fiancé finds out.

The reunion is on Saturday, so Wednesday morning, Kell reaches out to his old crew from highschool, asking if any of them are planning on attending as well. When he’s 

“The people here are so rude.” Delly interrupts him and Holland with a sniff and a light stomp of the foot. Kell asks her what she’s on about. “We were chatting so nicely and then they asked who I was with, so I told them I was your fiance and then they suddenly made up some sort of excuse and left! I was just in the middle of convincing them to become donors too.” Delly tried to use every opportunity to promote her causes. As shallow and airheaded as Kell thought she could be, it was moments like this that reminded him why everyone else bought into her passion for making the world a better place. She put so much effort into it that how could anyone doubt her intentions?

“You never told me someone in your class died? Is that why you’ve been so off today? Did you know him well?” Her beautiful face turned inquisitively towards his, her face scrunched in empathy. Kelly adjusted his tie uncomfortably, lowering his voice. 

“Uh, no we weren’t close. I barely knew him,” he lied, trying to keep his voice down. But clearly someone heard him.  

“Excuse me?” Kell and Delly turned to face a red headed lady with a wine glass in her hand. She looked irate and her face was red, a juxtaposition against the cream white of her business casual dress. 

“I’ve heard you! Boasting about all your achievements, all your phony do-gooding. You’re trying to erase what you did in the past, but we all remember. No matter how many cases you win, how many donations you make to anti-bullying campaigns, how many[...] we won’t be fooled again. You’ll always be a cruel, hateful boy and someday, you’re going to trip up again and show those you’ve fooled who you really are - a mean, hateful man, and now a liar and phony.” Kell thought she was done speaking but then she turned to Delly and said, “I’m so sorry honey,” before turning to him again to finish off with, “Go home Dane. Nobody wants you here.” 

A crowd had gathered around them, and Kell could see in the eyes of his former classmates and just as they hadn’t wanted him at their school graduation, they didn’t want him at their reunions either. It didn’t matter that some of them had been genuinely interested in talking with him about the various non-profit initiatives he was invested in and the one he was setting up at his firm, now they were reminded of their shared past and everything he had done since was tinged with insincerity. So he lifted his glass in acknowledgement, set it half empty down onto a nearby table, before taking his leave, sweeping a slightly starstruck Delly against him and towards the exit. 

******

Delly was quiet in the car and didn’t speak until they got home. She took her heels off in the front entrance and then dropped onto the couch in their living now. Kell hovered into the kitchen, but could still hear her when she said,

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kell flipped the kettle on and let the sound of the water heating up fill the space between them for a few moments. 

“I didn’t want you to think any different of me.” He sighed as he walked towards her and then sat down on the coffee table in front of Delly, taking her hands in his. She didn’t look at him. “We were silly teenage boys back then, too caught up in our own worlds to understand the effect that we were having on him. If we had known how sensitive he was--” 

“Sensitive?” Delly interrupted, and the tone of her voice would have keyed him into the danger of the situation he was stepping into. He hurried to correct himself.

“My point is that I understand what we did wrong back then, I wouldn’t do it again. I regret it every day. I’ve changed.”

“Have you? Do you regret what happened because a boy died or do you regret it because your classmates think you’re a terrible person? You know I always did wonder if you truly wanted to do good why didn’t you go into civil law? Why corporate? It never did make sense to me. And now I know! You don’t really care about the less fortunate, you only care about your image! It’s not about helping your client out, it’s about winning, and showing the world how many pro bono cases you’ve done so that they’ll all say, Wow look at Kell Dane, such a champion for the voiceless! You’re a fraud!” Her voiced gradually got louder as she spoke, to the point where she nearly screamed her last accusation at him. 

“You’re one to talk! You’re always going on about new initiatives, and helping those more fortunate than you and then turn around and buy clothing that has been created in sweatshops by the very people you say you care about. I may be a fraud, but you’re a hypocrite!” He lashed out. Delly stared at him with wide eyes. Kell had never yelled at her before, had always made sure to never raise his voice, present himself as a soft hearted, but capable, man. She slowly crumpled, like a butterfly with a broken wing would, and he saw one tear start to fall, and then she slapped him. The force of it whipped his head to the right. Kell didn’t go after her when she ran off to the bedroom.

Delly cries herself to sleep and Kell waits until her tears subside before crawling into bed next to her. He wonders if this is the beginning of the end again. Everyone had been so quick to turn against him in high school, the students, the teachers, the administrative staff, and especially the school board who were only negotiated into allowing him to graduate with the contingency that he was homeschooled for the rest of the year, didn’t attend the ceremony and didn’t speak to the press. The other boys were treated the same way, and they barely talked to each other either, too shocked about what had happened and each ruminating on their own role in Rhy’s fate. Kell spent the next year, next few years, angry with everyone. He was angry with himself for being so stupid as to not have seen it coming, for his friends for the same, at his parents using their money to get him out of any consequences, at everyone at school for deeming him a villain. He vowed to prove them wrong, show them that he wasn’t bad, that he had just been a normal teenage boy, maybe with a bit of a mean streak, but really he was quite decent, good even. He would show them, he had thought.

But now it was clear that he had failed.

Kell tried not to think about Rhy before, because thinking about him made him sad and angry and hopeless, and Kell was trying to remake himself so he could not afford to feel sad and angry about hopeless. Maybe that’s why he never told Delly, because he didn’t want to believe that it had happened, choosing to remove those moments in highschool from his character. But now, after being rejected once again by his classmates and lying in his bed with his fiance turned away from him, he does think about Rhy. Specifically, he thinks about how Rhy had felt when it had happened, if he had been scared. Or if he felt all those years ago the way Kell does now, empty and hopeless, as he set the scene and pulled the trigger on himself. 

[littlefrostwrites]

Prompt: Scars

For my weekly challenge

It’s been a month since Angelica best me during our solo hunting challenge. A month since she captured and killed her assigned werewolf case, a month since I tried to track down a vampire coven, only to arrive at a deserted lair  and placed back at square one. (I’ve not made much progress on that case since either).   

One month since Angelica’s been acting weird. 

My sister and I, despite being twins, are not very close. We used to do everything together, but that was before mom and dad were murdered, before Aunt Gemima and Uncle Justin took us in, before Aunt Gemima declared me the favourite. Angelica and my cousin Charlie say it’s because I look like my dad, Aunt Gemima’s brother, and since my favouritism is not due to anything I truly earned, perhaps their hatred of me is justified. I haven’t figured out how I feel about it yet, only that while it’s furthered my training and the opportunities given to me, it’s driven a wedge between Angelica, Charlie and I. But I digress. Angelica and I are not very close, and because of her dislike of me, we tend to avoid each other. I don’t know much about her life outside of training, and nor her mine, apart from what we share at the dinner table. And therefore, I don’t notice her change in appearance until I discover an entire box of unopened contact lenses in the dumpster behind our house.   

It was Angelica’s turn to take out the trash this week, but I had gone dumpster diving for my retainer. I finally got my braces taken off the week before, and therefore was at that stage where I had to wear my retainer all day for the next two months before I could switch to a purely nightly routine. Thankfully, I was given those clear Invisalign type of retainers, rather than the wire ones, so even though I still kinda had a lisp, my teeth were unobstructed for once. I took my retainer out during dinner, but it’s pretty gross to just leave it on the table for everyone to see, so I tend to wrap it in a napkin. Tonight, Uncle Justin spilled his beer of the entire table, and I was being helpful so I cleaned the whole thing up for him. I had bunched up all the soggy and used napkins on the table and thrown them in the trash. It wasn’t until later that night, after my sister took out the trash (therefore emptying that trash bin as well), and I was brushing my teeth did I realize that I had never put my retainer back on after dinner. Because my retainers were wrapped in a napkin in the dumpster behind my house. So naturally, I freaked out and dropped my toothbrush, rushing outside with unrinsed toothpaste still in my mouth and scrambled through our dumpster with only the flashlight from my phone to guide me. I found my retainer, but I also found two whole boxes of contacts in the trash. They were unopened boxes, and checking the expiry date, still useable. So why were they in the trash? Angelica’s had bad eyes since we were six years old. She tends to take after mom, while I am more like dad, and she also got her bad eyesight. She transitioned into wearing contacts as soon as our aunt deemed her old enough to be responsible enough to properly take care of the hygienic aspects of it, since glasses are sort of a hindrance to monster hunting. She’s the only one in the house who wears contacts and therefore, these are undoubtedly hers. But why would she throw them out?   

I’m not sure what to do, the situation is just so weird. Maybe there’s a perfectly logical reason for her throwing out her contacts. But not really, if anything she should need them more, especially since she broke her glasses a couple weeks ago. Her new ones only arrive a couple of days ago. Maybe Angelica just doesn’t want to wear contacts anymore? But no, and I think back the past week and only remember seeing my sister with glasses on in the morning and evening when we’re at home, with no glasses on during school or training, presumably wearing contacts. But perhaps not?   

Maybe her vision somehow got better? But then she was still wearing glasses, so that didn’t make sense. Unless the glasses were fake, with no prescription? I wasn’t sure, but I felt weird about the situation. So I grabbed my retainer and the boxes of contacts, stuffed everything back into the dumpster and went back in the house and up to my room, checking my surroundings to make sure that nobody would see me with the contacts. I felt strongly for some reason that I should keep this to myself for now. I stashed the boxes under my bed, finished brushing my teeth (also dunking my retainer in some strong cleaning fluid) and went to sleep.   

The next morning, when I got to breakfast, I saw that Angelica and Charlie were already there and that my sister was not wearing her glasses. So I backtracked, citing that I had forgotten something in my room, but instead snuck into her room looking for her glasses. They were on her nightstand, and when I picked them up, they felt very light. There were lenses in the frames, but when I looked through them, there was no image distortion so I put them on. And I could see normally. These weren’t prescription glasses. Somehow, Angelica’s eyes was completely normal now. Something had happened, something she didn’t feel she could share with their family. And I think I knew what.   

** 

I started paying more attention to my sister from then on. I noticed a lot of things about her that had passed me by. Angelica’s always been faster than me, but lately it seems she’s beating me by even more, and though I’m naturally better at hand-to-hand combat, it’s getting hard to fight against her. Two days after the dumpster incidence, she nearly dodged a kick that she definitely wouldn’t have been able to before. Only nearly though because she hesitated mid dodge, allowing the strike to connect, almost as if she was holding back. Four days after that, I went to the movies with a girl from my school, Cassandra, and we had messed around a bit in my car after. When I came home, Angelica, who had been sitting in the living room, bolted up, nose in the air, before scrunching it as if in disgust and, giving me a glare, stalked to her room with her hand over her nose. A week after that, my lacrosse teammates pointed out that she had lost some weight, although they brought it to my attention with a comment that I quickly shot down (not cool man, that’s my sister). Last summer, Angelica had gone through a failed course of Accutane, but lately her skin was completely clear. When I mentioned it to Charlie, he just gave me a weird look and told me our GP had given her some antibiotics and it must have worked. In fact, all of her skin was unnaturally unblemished. I noticed during a run on an unnaturally warm day that the large scar that she’s had since we were ten years old and on our first (supervised) mission, a lash from the whip of the Dullahan we’d been tracking for days on her right shoulder. The human spines of the whip had carved thick and deep lines into her skin, and her skin had healed with ragged ridges, but now Angelica’s shoulder was completely smooth. Spotless.   

**   

I had planned on confronting my sister with my theory about her odd behaviour, but I never got a chance. Being a member of a prominent monster hunting family made us targets, but we had never been attacked in our own territory though. Charlie and I had been on our early morning run, taking a familiar route, when suddenly I was hit by a large mass, thrown completely to the side. I managed to turn my momentum into an awkward roll, and took out the knife stashed in my running belt. I faced the massive wolf, knife in hand ready to strike, and then was distracted by the sight of Charlie on the phone. HE was talking urgently, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying, my blood rushing through my eyes drowning out all noise except for my own ragged breaths. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I used the energy to make the first strike, but was thrown off guard by a howl. Angelica burst into the clearing and tackled the wolf, pinning it down and growling. Her eyes flashed red. Whimpering, the wolf struggled underneath her. My sister lunged with a warning bit to the jugular, but purposefully aimed not for the jugular, causing pain, but not death. Then she left the wolf go. It immediately ran out of sight. Angelica spat out the blood in her mouth and then wiped her face with her hand. Charlie ran over to her, placing a hand on her arm, checking in. I didn’t move, I didn’t say anything. I had suspected, but to have it confirmed so abruptly… 

My sister is a werewolf. 

I willed myself to stand and in two strides at was at her side. I pulled her away from Charlie, roughly grasping her shoulders. “Let me see it,” I demanded. “The bite.” She bit her lip hesitant, but then pulled up the hem of the shorts she was wearing, revealing grotesque warped red shiny skin, perfectly imprinted bite marks against her inner right thigh. Seeing the bite, the only scar that remained on a bitten werewolf, confirmed everything to me, as if all the evidence hadn’t already been in front of me.   

I staggered back. Angelica stepped forward, chasing me, concern and fear on her face, and I immediately turn my knife on her, dropping into a defensive position on reflex. Charlie stepped between us. He held one arm in front of Angelica, as if to protect her, or perhaps prevent her from coming any closer to me, and extended his other arm to grasp my knife arm. He didn’t apply any pressure to make me drop my knife, though he could have, especially in my stunned state. He seemed to understand that I was thinking madly, trying to make sense of the situation. This wasn’t the way I had hoped to confront my sister. 

“What are you going to do?” he asked, eyes gazing intently into mine. Charlie has always been an independent thinker, and that’s why despite being her own son, Aunt Gemima loved me more. I was the stringent rule follower, while he questioned our hunter’s code at every turn. And he was questioning me now, face open and oddly nonjudgemental. He truly seemed curious of my answer. I looked past him, at Angelica, whose expression matched his, intent and solemn. What am I going to do now? 

My answer came out as a sob, a plea.   

“I don’t know.” 

**************************************************   author’s note to self: this is terrible. It’s so terrible, I literally am not going to read over at all because I know I’m going to cringe and want to fix everything and I just don’t have time. The plot has so many holes in it, the characters, well, don’t have much character. I just realized we don’t even know what the narrator’s name is. I know this is terrible because I finally settled on a story idea for this week’s prompt on Thursday, wrote a shit outline on Friday and then wrote all of this in a couple of hours on Saturday. This idea wasn’t well fleshed out and for me to be completely satisfied with it, I would have likely written a 10k word long story. And required many hours of editing. That isn’t suitable for a weekly short story challenge, especially at my current writing output and hours required for real-world commitments.  So reminder for next week: pick a simple plot, don’t focus on perfection! You already posted something terrible, can’t really get worse than this. AND START EARLY. But at least I finished writing a story for the first time in years? So small wins I guess.

[littlefrostwrites]

character in a fight scene: *restrains their opponent by pinning them against the wall by their wrists*

me:

[littlefrostwrites]

To Be Happy

This is a piece I wrote two years ago for a creative writing class in university. 04.10.18. 

She stands in front of the water, far away from the lights of the festival. The lake is dotted with a million stars, but there are few in the sky. She clenches her hands and shutters her eyes, holding in her mind’s eye the solitude, sadness, and desperation of the past months. 

She wishes for happiness.

***

The town of Maylight was blessed long ago by a powerful sorcerer who spread the ashes of his lover in a nearby lake, gifting a drop of his magic. Since then, one night every year, the lake fills with millions of stars. On that night, any magical being can make a wish on the bank of the lake and it will be granted the following day.

In celebration of the blessing, the townspeople hold the Star Bright Festival every year. It is a celebration of love, full of dancing, singing, and eating. The youth pair up in hopes of making a connection as strong as the love between the sorcerer and his lover. Only the most desperate descend to the lake to make a wish on Star Bright.  

Aubree has taken her daughter to the festival every year since her birth. She remembers the awe in Jessima’s eyes the first time she saw the dancing townsfolk in the fairy lit square. It’s tradition for the mother-daughter pair to share at least one dance in the night.

But Jessima will not be attending this year. 

“What do you mean she’s not going?”  said Rachelle McMillan, whose residence the neighbourhood mothers were gathered at for their monthly potluck brunch. 

“She’s taking her MSAE, Magineer Schools Admissions Exam,” Aubree clarifies for the other mothers, “soon. She needs to work hard, remain focused.”

“She’s okay with not going?” Candice from the house on the corner butts in, chewing on a brownie greedily. Aubree adjusts her crossed legs and rips off a chunk of her croissant. 

“Not really,” Aubree admits. “But, I think the festival would be a distraction. She’s gotten into a good studying rhythm and I would hate for her to fall out of it.”

“So strict Aubree! Children need have some fun. It’s good for them,” Candice scolds. 

“That mindset is why Jessima is going to be a magineer, while your children are in community college,” Rachelle says coldly. She’s never liked Candice, ever since her son beat Rachelle’s daughter in the 10th grade regional chess competition. 

Candice sniffs but doesn’t respond. 

“I think you’re doing the right thing. Lazy people cannot be successful and Jessima is at the age where it’s crucial she understands that.” Brenda says. Her children are already in the workforce. Aubree continues to rip her croissant into smaller pieces.

“Rob got promoted!” Rachelle announces, changing the topic swiftly. She beams as the other mothers offer her their congratulations. “With the extra money, we decided to invest in a MAIH!” The mothers widen their eyes appropriately. “I’d like you to meet someone!”

A man steps through the door, dressed smartly. He waves, his movements slightly stilted, the subtle fault giving away his mechanical nature. Aubree looks at his dark features and marvels at the newest magineering invention. He would pass as human, but his ruby red eyes are lifeless.

“Hello, my name is Theodore. I am Rachelle‘s Mechanical Aid In Housework,” he introduces himself. “I am happy to do whatever you wish.” He bows.

“Isn’t he lovely?” Rachelle exclaims. Candice gets up to take a closer look.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispers reverently, reaching a hand out. Rachelle snorts.

“Don’t even think about it! Theo only understands the pleasure of obedience. His brain receives a hit of dopamine every time he completes an order. Ergo the perfect servant!”

“If only my children were wired that way. They never listen!” Brenda complains. Aubree nods to herself, sympathizing, but then accidentally drops her plate. The scraps of croissant scatter on the carpet. Theodore dutifully clears it up, picking up Aubree’s discarded plate too. She falters in her thanks, shivering internally at his unsettling red eyes.

*** When Aubree arrives home, the door recognizes her magical signature and opens automatically. She places her empty brownie pan in the kitchen sink, where the pink sponge immediately jumps up with a flourish to start scrubbing, before heading down the hallway. Her daughter is still sleeping when she opens her door. Aubree growls angrily before snapping her fingers, summoning the sound of an alarm to echo in the room. Jessima immediately jerks awake.  

“What are you doing?” Aubree exclaims. “It’s one o’clock, you’re supposed to be studying!” She glares at her daughter, who has her head in her hands.

“I was tired and couldn’t focus,” she mumbles.

“Then drink a pick-me-up potion! You don’t have time for this! Your MSAE is in two weeks and you’ve only been scoring in the 90th percentile on your practice tests. You know that DeGrasse only takes students above the 98th!” She frowns, but the look is lost on her daughter, who still has not moved from her position on the bed. “Come on! Get up!”

“Mom, I really need a break. My head hurts and I feel sick. I can’t study because I’m anxious, I can’t sleep because I’m anxious! I really just need a break.” She’s facing Aubree now, clutching her blanket pitifully. Tears are gathering in her brown eyes.

Aubree clucks her tongue.

“How did you end up so lazy.” Jessima gapes, but Aubree continues, index finger out and waving animatedly. “Do you know how Aunt Kath got to where she is? Every day, she would shut herself in her room to study. She ignored her friends, she didn’t go out, she studied. Even once she was accepted to DeGrasse, she kept going because she understood that while hard work is painful, it’s worth it.” Aubree stalks towards the bed, casting a quick spell with a wave of her hand to push the bedding away. She kneels, brushes Jessima’s messy bangs back and places her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “You just have to do that too.”

Jessima jerks away, refusing to look at Aubree. She clucks her tongue again.

“You only have two more weeks until your exam.”

“And then five more years of hell at DeGrasse if it goes well.” Jessima’s voice wavers when she responds, but her tone is bitter.

“Five years, and then you’ll be a licensed magineer, in the big city, making lots of money. You’ll be successful and you’ll be happy,” Aubree reframes.

“No, I won’t,” Jessima says, head downcast. The words are defiant, but they come out softly. She lets out a sigh, long, slow and resigned. “Just go, mom. I’ll study.”

“Good.” Aubree beams, stroking Jessima’s hair before taking her chin and lifting it. Salt water is drying on the cheek she leans down to kiss. “I’ll be so proud of you when you get in to DeGrasse!” she calls, strolling out the room.

*** Aubree feels unsettled after their conversation, so she decides to water the plants. This is what is best for Jessima, she reminds herself. There’s something soothing about filling the water tank and watching the water flow smoothly out the spout into each pot. She could use magic, but the repetitive movements quiet her mind. It’s a couple hours later when Jessima comes out of her room. Aubree pauses the podcast she’s listening to and stalks towards her daughter. Jessima explains herself quickly.

“I wanted to ask you something.” She’s still in her pajamas, the bright yellow of her shirt contrasting the dark circles under her eyes. “I just scored in the 95th percentile on my practice test.” Aubree brightens at the news, frown smoothing out.

“That’s great!” Jessima only quirks her lips up slightly before taking a deep breath.

“Yes. So I was hoping, given that I’m making really good progress, that I could go to the festival.” Seeing the frown starting to reappear on Aubrey’s face, she rushes on, “It’s Star Bright. Please mom, I promise I’ll be perfect if you let me go. I won’t complain, I won’t beg to see my friends, I’ll be a studying machine,” she pleads.

A perfect studying machine, Aubree ponders, searching her daughter’s face for deception.

“Alright. You can go.” Jessima immediately perks up. Aubree adds, “But you will stay with me the whole time. You need to be back by 10:30 PM.”

Jessima hesitates, but says, “That’s fine. Thank you.” She gives her mother a shallow hug, barely a brush of her arms around her torso. “I’ll go study now.” Aubree reminds herself that success requires sacrifice. In five years, Jessima will be happy and Aubree will be the mother of a magineer.

***

Aubree’s never made a wish at Star Bright before. Her family has always cautioned her about the trickster nature of such powerful magic. Be careful when wishing for the impossible, her father used to say, for there is a reason it is so. It would be easy though; Aubree has much to wish for.

The festival is beautiful as always, the mouth-watering aroma of food drifting through Aubree’s senses. There are flags with bright white stars everywhere: on the lamp posts, in children’s hands, tied as capes around the fairies. To her right, Jessima has not touched her churro and is staring blankly at the dancers. Aubree puts a hand on her shoulder in concern, but sees Rachelle beckoning her to dance. Her friend tugs at her arm and she’s swept away, almost leaving Jessima by the food stall, but she turns to ask her daughter to participate too. But Jessima’s gone.

Aubree snatches her arm from Rachelle, makes an excuse and hurries away. She looks around frantically, examining the faces of the people around her, some of which are waving, but she ignores them in her panic. Where is Jessima? She finds a quiet spot at the edge of the square, concentrates and casts a tracking spell. It guides her on a long path through the forest, the tug in her navel growing stronger as she nears the lake. The stars are mesmerizing as they wink at her from the water. The leaves rustle, forming a whisper: what is your wish?

Aubree tries to ignore their question. Did Jessima escape to make a wish? What was it? Aubree has no doubt it was reckless and childish. She’s scared suddenly, worried about the repercussions Jessima could have brought upon herself.

The wind pushes the water into ripples, but the image of the stars on the lake somehow remains undistorted. The leaves contribute to the hypnotizing image, repeating, what do you wish? They start to chant, Wish. Wish. Wish!

If Jessima would just listen! If she could understand that I only want what is best for her. Aubree’s wish is full of frustration and anxiety, but it comes from the heart.

She wishes for obedience.

*** Aubree claws her way out of the trees, the grit of the sand from the beach worming into her shoes and between her toes. She’s a mess, so she gives up her search and heads to the nearest transportation point to get home. Tomorrow will be a better day.

When she climbs out of bed in the morning, she eagerly strides down the hall to Jessima’s door. It opens before she arrives, but it is not her daughter that steps out.

Aubree gasps, hand flying to her mouth as the girl turns towards her. She’s dressed professionally, in a full suit, tailored pants, shirt and blazer. Her normally mousy brown hair is brushed, shining, but her movements lack grace, breaking the illusion of perfection.

“Hello mother. What would you like me to do today?” she asks. Her bright red eyes gleam at Aubree, who takes a further step back in horror. “I am happy to do whatever you wish.”