Hello all my loves! I'm not updating BSCG today *dodges knifes and other weapons of mass destruction. Instead, I'm publishing a small story for my 100th review, berru.
For those of you who read my stories, you know how they are. XD
But for all you newbies, my writing is a tad...dark. In a nice way, so I'm told.
Italics are first person thoughts/flashbacks and Bold Italics are song lyrics.
On with the show!
*A Small Theory*
"People observe the colors of the day only at its beginings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors.
Waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues.
Murky darkness."~
Death, from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
The sky was naked, stripped by rain. Another bare canvas. Another color dipped in grey.
"It's everywhere." She whispered. And it was.
The color grey was in every window in every building. It stared in every ally, written on each and every annonmous face that passed them by.
The girls were the only ones that stood out, but it wasn't their fault.
They didn't choose not to have parents. They didn't choose an abandoned shop on Cherry Street as their only home.
"Niamh?" She pulls on her sleeve, the little one, with her eyes green and vivid, full of life.
"Yes, Em?"
She stares up, into the sky, the light. "Do you think Daddy's ever coming back?"
Niamh's mouth opens, but no words come out. All that's left now is the sound of breathing, of memories, flipping through the night like the pages of an open book.
Their father died praying on his knees, his rosary beads were still clenched in his hand when she found him. He left no note, said no goodbyes, gave no last hugs or kisses. Only the empty bottle of painkillers near his bed proved that he had ment to leave.
Niamh found him first. But she didn't know he was dead. She thought he was praying.
So that morning, she woke Emily up with a kiss on her forehead.
I felt proud to scramble her eggs and butter her toast.
I had no idea it would be the first of many mornings doing that.
Whenever I think about my father, something fills up inside of me, like water filling a bucket. It fills me up until I can't breathe, I can't think. And I'm afraid that my feeling are going to spill out for everyone to see. For her to see. So, I close my eyes and picture the water evaporating, until there's nothing left. Not one drop.
He has vanished, disappeared. That's what Emily believes and that's what I must think. That he's not dead. Just gone.
"He'll be back right?"
My father lived in a world full of pain. Pain that we couldn't see. Pain that we didn't know existed.
But we feel it now, or at least I do, eating away at me with every breath. Gnawing on my heart, my soul.
Why?
Why did you hide from me? I could've helped you, Daddy. You loved me, remember? You called us your princesses, your shining stars. Would it have been as dark with us around?
I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't try. I'm sorry for what I'm about to do.
Grey clouds cover the barren sky, bumping into eachother, apologising, and finding space. They shed metalic tears, the rain falls, soaking the poor girls to the bone.
I'm sorry that I failed you.
"I-I don't think he is, Emily. It's impossable."
They search street after lifeless street for shelter, the rain pounding on their backs.
"You know, I think of six impossable things before breakfast."
Niamh smiles, and adds. "You hardly eat breakfast, silly."
Moonlight leaks through the veil of clouds, resting on the little girl's face, kissing her cheeks.
"I guess that gives me more time to think then."
"We're here."
The girls pause in front of their 'home'. Broken glass crunching beneath their feet.
I'm sorry, Emily. My sunshine. I'm sorry.
"Why is it always dark in there, Niamh? Why is it always dark when the sign is so colorful?"
"I don't know, Em. I don't know. Maybe that Wonka fellow really enjoys a good paradox."
She turns around, a gush of wind. "What's that?"
"Something they'll teach you when your older."
Emily smiles, and Niamh's heart aches. She can't take this much pain. She can't say goodbye. Not to her sister, not to the only home she has left. The only home that she'll remember.
"Your so smart."
She let her mouth kiss her cheek. "Not as smart as you, cricket," and she held the girl's face in her hand, crying onto her fingers.
"Why are you weaping, Niamh?"
The little girl holds her close. Standing, the rain beats on their backs.
They have punchered hearts. They have beaten lungs.
"Because I have to go away for a while..."
She dropped her hand, as the teenager kept on talking.
"I'm going to make your life better, Emily. I'll be back soon. Don't worry. Just sing the song I taught you."
The little girl wept over Niamh's shoulder.
Goodbye, Emily. You saved me. You taught me how to see the light. You taught me with your voice. No one could sing like you. I'll never love anyone as much again. I'll never learn another song. No one could sing like you.
Niamh's arms held her. She kissed the girl's shoulder, for her face was too painful to look at.
No one will ever take care of me, Emily. That's why I have to leave. You have a chance. You have life.
"Keep singing, Emmie."
Somewhere through all the tears, Emily could see her broken heart, in two pieces. Each half glowing, and beating under all that sorrow. She thought she would be coming back for her someday.
But she wasn't.
She was being yelled at.
She was being pushed away.
A warm scream filled her throat.
"No, Niamh, don't go...please! I love you. I love you!"
"I'm sorry! I-I'm s-s-sorry! I-I-I'm so s-sorry!" And she let her go. Just like that. It's amazing what some people are capable of.
How could that woman walk?
How could she even move?
Hours passed.
Or was it days?
Months even?
Niamh doesn't know anymore. Time is a blur, life is a haze. The only thing that matters is when it'll end.
And how.
He asks for you, Emily. The bad man. The one who owns me now.
"Why didn't you bring the girl?" He says, and then he hits me.
And hits me.
And hits me.
Sometimes, he brings in men. They hurt me as well. But they don't hit me most of the time, just make me feel dirty.
I see these men give him money. And with each dollar bill I feel worse and worse.
Do you understand? Please do. Please don't hate me. I hear your voice sometimes, Emily. When I'm alone and the world has turned its back. You sing to me, and I see sunlight. Even though he keeps me in the dark.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
Please, dont leave me. Because I love you
Don't take my sunshine away...
The other night
As I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
When I awoke dear
I was mistaken
And I held my head and cried
I love you too, Emily.
I love you too.
I hope everyone liked this! I promise the next chapter or two will be better.
I kinda planned Emily's charactor off of Agnes from Despicable Me (I love that movie, it's too cute!) and I suposse Niamh could be darker version of Margo.
Willy enters in the next chapter, his interaction with Emily should be quite adorable. XD Oh, and she's about five or six by the way. Niamh is seventeen.
Oh, and my updates might be a little f-ed up this week. I have a big book project and a field trip. The last days of school are so stressful.
Reviews for a starving writer? :3