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Insert Title Here.
The peach trees were swaying in tune with the wind – along with the grass. I heard the birds chirping, although I didn’t see any. The sky rippled in the wind like a flag. The midnight sun was upon me, my shadow sat by me, mocking my every mistake. I dreaded the horrid rising sun.
I came here often, although I’m not sure why. The sun never actually rises here, but the sunset is rather breathtaking. It never changes, this sun, it’s like this twenty four-seven.
Elliot snapped his fingers and Thierry was once again in the cafeteria, a glaring light blinding him. Ah, the sun has risen once more. His shadow was glaring at him; his scornful laugh rang unforgiving in the space less void that was his mind. Of course it was ludicrous to think that shadows could actually laugh at you, but wasn’t Thierry the lucky one, his did. Echoing every mistake in his head – a hundred per second it felt. Thierry had recently named him Marble. For his intense black marble stare.
Irvin’s words broke into his privet thoughts.
“So Thierry, me and Milo are headed to the baseball game, you coming?”
“Not this time, sorry guys.”
“Let me rephrase this,” Irvin said, his eyes’ were on his fork, toying with it. “I was only being kind, allowing you to make the right choice. But seeing as you are unable,” His translucent green eyes were now staring intensely into Thierry’s. “Well, we’ll pick you up at five tomorrow.”
Thierry just looked down sadly.
“I’m sorry… I…” Milo said slowly. Despair in his eyes.
It had been three months since Petra died. That happened to be his best friend, his mother. But what other’s needed to do was stop saying that it wasn’t Thierry’s fault. Because when you laid it all out, it was. Elliot didn’t understand because he wasn’t there. But Milo was, and he hasn’t been the same since. Thierry was ashamed to realize how much he’s worrying his friends, acting different himself.
It had been a cold day. Petra had dropped Thierry off at Julius’s house, along with Milo. They were board. They got stoned, an affect that comes from smoking pot. Going for a joy ride in Julius’s car had seemed like the idea of the night. Thierry was the one driving; he was oldest, even if he did not yet have his own car. They were drinking. What was new with that? They hit North Drive Street fast and clean. Speeding, but they didn’t notice. A stop sign was coming up fast, but they were dinking with the radio, another thing that passed their conscious thoughts.
Thierry's head was stuck in the past, the others could tell. He was trembling. Ella tried to snap him out of it, but he didn’t notice and he didn’t care.
They didn’t stop for the sign. She was on the way to pick him up. They hit her car, crushing the driver’s side. Thierry was the first out. He recognized her car at once. Thinking back on it, he doesn’t remember how he could see to even pull her out. Thierry was blinded by tears. He held her in his arms.
“Madre! No, don’t go! Madre, stay with me Madre, stay with me!”
He looked across the pavement and saw Marble, in the reflected scene. It was like a mirror. He saw boy who just killed his mother, desperately clinging to her last bit of life. The image disgusted him. He didn’t deserve to be her son and he diffidently didn’t deserve to be here, holding her during her last breaths. The coldness made the it easy to see when she finally let go, for he could see her breath. It made it all the more dramatic, which he really didn’t care for. It had seemed like such a nice evening, but now the… midnight sun seemed to mock him.
Thierry ran right out the school doors, he felt like ripping them down along the way. He wasn't much of a runner, so he was panting by the time he reached the town's graveyard, running strait to Petra's stone. Sitting down in the cool grass, he just stared at it.
It was made of white granite. Embedded in it were little gold sparkles that glistened with an intense passion when caught by the sunlight. Thierry groaned and rolled over. Beside Petra's Headstone, he lay. As if he were in a coffin underground. Legs flat together and arms crossed over his chest. He squeezed his eyelids shut tight to avoid catching the sparkling going on, because Thierry knew what those flecks were. Every beautiful sunset, every kind person, all the alone time with his father Myrtis -- Who she claimed to love -- and every hope and dream he'd stole the chance of every happening, of ever meeting.
My fault my fault my fault. His thoughts screamed louder then anything he'd ever heard in real life.
And then he was floating... in what would appear to be a bubble. Drifting around and through the forest of willows and ash trees. And he saw her. Directing his bubble towards the ground and popped it a yard away from her -- about a foot off the ground.
She tilted her head slightly to the left in curiosity.
"Hello." Thierry's felt his voice waver, sounding faint and far away.
"Hey." The girl has a soft soprano voice. It sounded direct and meaningful, but the softness didn't make it sound so sharp as he figured it would otherwise.
"My name is Thierry. Would I be so bold to ask for yours?"
"Thierry," She didn't say it like she was asking a question, more and an infirmity of some sort, her voice drifted and Thierry melted in it.
"That's a very sweet name."
Thierry chuckled with a grin on his face. "You're tricky. You almost avoided my question there."
The girl chuckled and grinned, also, now. "Ophelia."
Hum, he liked the sound of that. "Watcha doing out here, I thought this place was an empty void of my imagination?"
"Oh, it is, don't worry. And I decided to go for a walk, but stopped to check on the Faye."
"What is a Faye?"
"The Faye is this willow tree that holds the sky from falling down. This would spiral this world into a black hole of nothingness." She said this all with a smile on her face, as if they were still making small talk, perhaps about their favorite television show. Her smile created the illusion that she had a chuckle in the back of her throat, or maybe it wasn't an illusion. His face probably looked pretty great right there, he thought.
"The tree looks very good at the moment." And it did. He didn't know what made him in his right mind think that a tree could look happy. But it looked very... healthy.
"You are its roots, its structure, the reason it's here, that we're all here. When you're happy, it's healthy and strong, and when you're sad its leaves and branches no longer dance with the wind. And when you're mad the leaves and tree's leaves flicker in the wind in such a way that the Faye appears to be a raging fire."
She sounded so wise, so sure of her every word. It made him wonder how many years of life it took to gain that confidence, that assurance in yourself. "How old are you Ophelia?"
"I'm the same age as you, Thierry." She said, her voice sounding like this was common sense.
Thierry was fifteen. He guessed he was pretty or something like that. That's what everyone said, wait no, they called that "Hot" or whatever. He had gray/green eyes and Honey colored hair. He'd never had to wear braces, or glasses; never broken a bone. Thierry got average grades, not real bad, but some could be most diffidently better.
"Could I join you in the rest of your walk?" Thierry asked kindly.
As they walked through the shadows of the trees, Thierry started seeing the peach trees again, filling the space evenly with the ash and willow trees -- Although there was still large spaces without trees, the trees weren't that close together, but evenly spaced out. Thierry looked down upon Ophelia as they walked; he was 5'6, he guess she was about 5'3.
Her face was perfectly symmetrical; her bleach blond hair framed her face beautifully. She had long eye lashes that really brought out her strange white eyes that contained gold flecks. Her little nose fit her face to a tee, her lips set at an angle that only an angel could pull off. Her long ivory dress went down, just bellow her knees. From her waste down the dress was layered. The straps on the dress were only about an inch wide, with little bows that we're connected by mardiGras beads, the same color as every thing else her dress contained, they were the only mardiGras beads he'd ever seen that didn't shine. She wore white lacy socks that folded over once and came back down at the ankle. I think they called her shoes flats, except they had thin little straps that came over the top of her foot.
She caught an ash leaf on its travel to the ground. She traced it's skeleton with her left ring finger. She looked up and the gold flecks in her eyes caught the light and... Glistened with an intense passion.
And he was back in the grave yard, he was soaked, it was pouring. It was a long walk home; Myrtris was probably flipping out wondering where he'd gone. And he couldn't get that girl out of his head, maybe because of the fact that she was a figment of it, maybe not.
He was wrong, Myrtis wasn't even home. Stupid alcoholic was probably at the bar. Thierry grabbed a box of Cheez-it’s and went upstairs to his room. As lay in his bed he thought of his weird time in the graveyard.
Some people stare off and just... blank out. They aren’t really thinking of anything. But not Thierry, when he spaces out he thinks of everything. He goes through all the “what ifs?” in his brain. Well, he used to anyways. Ever since Petra died, he could only think about the Pretty Place that was cursed with a never-ending sunset. And... The night she... you know died. But he doesn’t care to think about that. And now, he went to the pretty place when he spaced out. The Pretty Place wasn't so bad most the time, actually, it was extremely nice. It was a little piece of heaven right in the middle of his own personal hell. Hell, because his mother died, killed by a complete moron and heaven because he could have some peace and quite. Outside all of the horrid whispering, the concerned stares, and the dang shrink that they make him go to because they are "concerned about him". Whatever. Knowing Myrtis he just wanted a reason to ditch him for a few hours. Thierry fell asleep to the panting of his fan in the far corner of his room. He slept a dreamless at night.
As much as he tried, he couldn't space out the next day. And he was really, really trying. But, in reality, he had never tried to space out before. It just... happened. And that's most likely why he couldn't space out, he was trying, he guessed you couldn't make yourself. He was trying to hard. So, as it turns out, he didn't again get to see Ophelia that day. Or the next.
Thierry was exhausted, his brain hurt, and he was hungry. One moment he was all these things, sitting on the couch in his two story, thirteen roomed house, and the next... he was in the pretty place.
Of course she was there -- sitting by the Faye, waiting. "Hello." Thierry said with a gush of wind that came out of his mouth, he was relieved.
"Hey." And that was all it took, Thierry was at home. That voice was a sweet, long lost song that was erased off the radios, no longer on that video sight, YouTube, or whatever -- A song that he couldn't trace down anywhere. And now he had that feeling when you finally do feel it, it's a feeling you can't possibly describe. "Care to go for a walk?"
"Anytime." Was his answer.
They walked in silence as Thierry watched her again. It was like magic to him, watching her; it was like a fairy tale. And even if it was, he didn't care how long his head stayed in the clouds. "I would like to tell you a story. Would you enjoy hearing it?" She broke the silence but not the magic.
And so she began the story of the boy. "All the people were boring, with a life of never-ending promises. And they all loved each other for they were all best friends and lovers and... Family. No one ever fought and no one wondered what was outside their town.
And neither did a young boy. But his friends did and so he followed. They traveled far, and he wanted to stop and return many times, but his friends continued to persuade him on.
They were laughing and having such a lovely time... and then suddenly everything went horridly wrong.
The forest melted into a blur and the river washed them away. There were times where the Faye looked as so it was falling. Others drying. It's leaves where brown and it no longer was jouyful or gave a care.
And the Faye no longer let the sky turn round. It held it at sunset, and new tress sprouted. They grew fast and some barred fruit. The boy disappeared. The Faye regained color, but this land was still only sunset. It's now just a barren land of these trees and the river that stretches into the land of nothing. The boy's imagination failed to move on past the spaced out trees and the short, green grass.
The loving town had vanished with the forest the river streamed away, taking all the love with it. Or so he thought. He and no love, or so he thought, but if this is so, then why would he have held on this long? Why are we still here? Why would... this, "Still swished out her arms as if she could grasp everything at once, And I guess she could, seeing how bad the boy's imagination was now and days. She continued on. "Still be here if he hadn’t some type of care.
And that is how I know he's out three. With plenty of love kept up inside of him."
And this story Thierry had heard before, for this was his tale.