Paper Crane
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: Maybe a thousand paper cranes will get Phil of the Future back?
A crane means good luck.
One thousand cranes means a wish.
I know what I'm going to wish for.
I haven't been on for a while, but this is something I wrote and I thought I'd share. Hope you enjoy it.
Thank you, CraftyNotepad, for all the support and help.
My thumb presses firmly, decisively, creasing a solemn edge into the colored square of paper. A silent sigh escapes my chest as it flounders up, then down. My eyes water, close, and I blink, sighing again, more deeply this time.
My fingers rub the paper open, folding another crease into it's formerly smooth visage. My mind wanders as I fold.
There are few words to describe the feeling that has welled up inside of me. There are words, but they do not mean nearly enough. Sad is a common word; my feelings may be common, but it are also unique. Sad does not evoke enough sorrow, passion, love, anger, vehemence, anguish… it doesn't say enough.
I fold the next crease sharply, to cover the qualms of my hands. With my hands busy, I have less to think about. Every crease must be perfect, every edge meeting the correct edge. There can be no less, because it gives me too much time to think. If I concentrate on this harder, maybe the pain will go away.
I've come to the point where I cry only sparingly. It's strange, but true, that sometimes, there are no more tears to cry. I'm at that point. I can no longer think of the alternatives, because it hurts to much. Humans weren't meant for pain. So, I focus on the sliver of hope I am given.
Sometimes it's not enough. I feel raw inside. I try to keep my mind off of it. But when I think about it, there's a lot I would do to get him back… in any way, any shape, any form. It makes me angry sometimes… this wasn't supposed to happen… there was a future ahead that shined brightly… so brightly.
My teeth grit, and I concentrate on the small square I have managed to fold. Flipping up an edge of the square, it becomes a diamond.
A diamond brings up memories of him. There is a lot that does. The grief rips through me again, and I struggle against it.
I've got to be strong, I know. Though he has to be stronger. He's the only one who can fight to get back to me, to us. All I can do is hope my hardest, wish my very best, and yearn. He'll get back… he has to get back.
A diamond, again. I fold. I lift the flap up.
I miss him. I always do. But I hate thinking about it, because of what it does to me. I break down. I cry, my chest heaves, and I can barely stand to let it in. I'm a personal person… I don't want the world to know my business. It's my own.
My closest friends know… and they put a supportive arm around my shoulder when I cry, tell me everything's going to be alright… I hope they are right. Because they have to be.
My fingers pinch an edge together; a beak.
"Come back to me… to us," I murmur softly, my eyes glazing over. That's my wish. I just need it all to be better. I don't want to feel that hole in my heart anymore, that anguish that fills my being when I think of him. The time isn't up yet… there has to be more.
One paper crane. Nine hundred, ninety-nine more to go.
A crane means good luck. One thousand cranes means a wish. I know what I'm going to wish for.
I need you back.
Very short, I guess, and a bit depressing. But it's an idea that had just popped into my mind and I wrote it. Hope it's readable and entertaining though. That's my goal, anyway. :) Please review!