To 8Ball3- :3
To An-Unnamed-Goose- His name was Arnie and I made him purely to kill him ^_^ Sorry-not-sorry!
It was April now. Louisa splashed cold water from a stream on her face, blinking stubbornly. The moon was almost full, the stars smirking at her. They knew. She threw more water over herself, rubbing at her eyes. She could not go to sleep. She would not go to sleep.
She rose, drying her hands on her T-shirt. Her backpack was getting lighter. She would need to restock. Her stomach growled at her. She started walking again, now in her socks. Her sneakers had come apart two days ago, in a bin somewhere. Her socks weren't faring much better, but there was a fine layer of mud on them making an oddly pleasant sole.
Sighing, she hopped the stream and continued on. Still had no idea where she was. Still didn't care. Downed some water, picked some berries. On she went.
She stumbled over a tree root, righting herself by grabbing the trunk. She blinked, squeezing her eyes shut for the count of five, taking a deep breath. She exhaled slowly, carefully standing straight. She patted the bark, stepping over the roots, balanced on her toes. She rewarded herself with a trio of berries, once sweet, but now hardly tasting more than cardboard.
The morning came before she knew it. She stood on a hill, watching the sunrise. At the bottom of the hill, a path, a cobble path, winding through a park. An old lady was shuffling towards a bench, a paper bag in one hand. Pigeons followed her.
Louisa turned away, heading back into the woods. The woods were familiar.
Her eyes itched, she squinted, determined not to give in. She came back across the stream, or a further down portion of it, jumping into the cold water. It swilled around her ankles, prickling at her skin. The chill shuddered up her legs, sending a wail of 'cold cold cold!' to her brain. Cold was fine. She could deal with cold.
A splash behind her, she smiled.
"You're so noisy, Arn." She said, turning. Then she remembered. It wasn't Arnie. Just a bird, washing itself in the shallows. It looked at her, cheeping. Louisa sighed. "Sorry." She mumbled. Of course it wasn't Arnie.
The bird took flight, droplets fluttering from its wings, disappearing into the trees. Louisa kept her head down, kicking at the water.
The stream eventually ended, tumbling into a small waterfall into a pond. She jumped down into it, swimming to the shore. Water was good for waking her up, the brain fog abating while she paddled about. She picked some berries, ate a few. Found a puddle and stomped on her reflection.
She lost the day, again, winding through the forest. There was no real destination, no real purpose. Not anymore. She just needed to walk, she just needed to stay awake. Around mid-afternoon, she found herself back at the pond. She walked around it and headed in the opposite direction.
She remembered looking up at some point. Saw a cloud shaped like a fish. She didn't realise she was crying until she fell to her knees and curled up, hugging herself, shoulders shaking with sobs.
May. She was getting the hang of staying awake now. She was in a city, somewhere. She hated it. Busy, people crowding the streets, not noticing her, walking over or through her, bumping her about in their everyday bustle. Cars honked, pigeons stole the muffin she stole from a supermarket. Someone was yelling, radios played on porches, kids played in their streets, screaming and laughing delightedly as their siblings chased them. A homeless man asked her if she had seen any aliens. A traffic warden was printing tickets, ignoring the woman screeching at her about unfairness and 'it was only two minutes over!'
The only bit of quiet she could find was a bookshop, squashed between a pet shop and a mini-mart. A bell tinkled as she opened the door. The shop was narrow with high-ceilings and soft lighting, the walls lost to shelves of books. Books piled on the floor, piled on rickety tables pushed up against the shelves, piled on top of the shelves so precariously, one little sneeze could have buried them all. It extended out the back too, a narrow corridor merging into a larger room at the back. It was just as crammed and overstuffed with books as the rest of the store.
Stephanie was the best at telling stories, back at the home. Louisa remembered this upon finding battered old copies of The Gingerbread Man, The Three Little Pigs and Little Red Riding Hood. She peered at the pages, the letters looping and blurring, swapping places. She shoved them back in the box of kids' stories, frustration building.
"Need some help?"
The lady appeared from behind some books. Louisa hadn't noticed, but there was a desk in the back corner of the first room, with an old cash register on top, so engulfed in books that it blended in seamlessly with everything else. "I always enjoyed The Princess and the Frog as a child." The lady continued. Louisa stared up at her. She had warm brown skin, a gentle hook to her nose. Her hair was covered by a scarf of sorts, with a pretty, gently coloured flowery pattern. She wore a knitted navy cardigan over a plain white shirt and a long black skirt that swept to the floor. Her brown eyes appeared almost amber in the store's soft yellow lighting. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" She asked. Her voice was kind and it pulled at Louisa like a good nap used to.
"Quiet." Louisa found herself saying, glancing nervously at the door. The woman smiled understandingly.
"Yes, it can be rather hectic out there. Would you like some tea? I was just about to put the kettle on?"
"I… don't have money." Louisa said quietly.
"Oh, no no no. There's no need for that." She patted her on the head. "I like to think of my shop as somewhere one can sit and just have tea." The woman gently steered Louisa down the hallway. There was a sink set into the wall, Louisa hadn't noticed it before, a big white basin in a counter of dark wood, like it was its own shelf. On the counter was a kettle and two mugs, upside down and drying from the last use. Pots at the back, with tea bags and sugar and what looked like hot chocolate powder, and then one of mismatched teaspoons.
The woman hummed as she busied herself, making a tea for her and a hot chocolate for Louisa with a little extra sugar. She carried them back to the desk, Louisa dutifully at her heels. She settled herself in a comfortably worn swivel chair, producing a cushioned stool for Louisa from beneath her desk. "Are you alright?" She asked, studying Louisa's face with genuine concern. Her mug sat neatly between her fingertips, her thumb looped through the handle. Louisa blew on her hot chocolate.
"No." She admitted.
"Do you want to talk about it?" The lady tipped her head to one side. Louisa hunched her shoulders, sipping at her drink. The warmth melted over her tongue, tingling through her chest and down to her stomach. She curled her fingers around the cup, finding a kind familiarity in its heat.
When Louisa stayed quiet, the woman simply nodded. She looked up, around at her shelves. "I like working here." She said. "The income is fickle at the best of times, but I would do anything for this shop. I have regulars. They became good friends. We sit in here, we talk about what we've read. Have some tea. Talk some more. If I'm feeling particularly splurgy, I'll set out some biscuits." She shifted her cup around in her hands, took a sip. "Mind, I don't let them eat over the books. I do not like the idea of crumbs between the pages." She wrinkled her nose. Louisa managed a weak smile, though it felt like nothing more than the corners of her mouth tipping up. "Do you have somewhere like this? Somewhere set aside, away from it all?" Louisa looked down at her drink. "I see." The woman said. "I'm sorry about your friend, Louisa."
"How-?"
"I didn't introduce myself, did I?" The woman gave a timid, almost embarrassed laugh. "My apologies, child. I often forget myself. I'm Orbona."
"You a goddess?"
"I am. And I'm not going to make you look for anything, don't worry." Her expression softened, her fingers brushed Louisa's cheek. When Louisa flinched, she sighed. "Oh, child. You do not deserve this life." Orbona brushed a tear away with her thumb. She set her tea down, taking Louisa's hot chocolate from her as she began to cry.
The goddess already knew, but everything spilled out of Louisa anyway. She told her what had happened between sobs and hiccups, robotically accepting a tissue from Orbona. "It's- my- fault." She croaked between heaving breaths.
"No." Orbona defied. "The blame lies way over your head."
"But- Arnie- he's- can't- not fair-"
"I know." The goddess soothed, smoothing Louisa's hair back, tucking it behind her ear. Louisa wiped at her face with her sleeve, blew her nose on the tissue when Orbona pointed at it to remind her she had it. "Here." The hot chocolate was handed back to her. "Drink up, my child."
The warm, sweet chocolate was not exactly what Louisa needed, but it was quite close. She had delved into coldness to keep herself awake, a chill that dug deeper than she realised. The hot chocolate did not chase it all away. Instead, it made something akin dents, like little sunspots. It was reassuring, albeit bittersweet.
Orbona let Louisa hang around for the rest of the day. Maybe one or two customers came in, had a chat. Louisa stayed away from them. There was a beanbag hidden away in the back room. Louisa plonked herself there, with a range from the kids' box. The letters still moved around and irritated her, so she mostly focused on the pictures. Orbona came to check on her at some point, bringing a drawing pad and colouring pencils. Louisa stared at them, poked them.
"Hey," Orbona smiled, "colouring is good for the soul."
So Louisa tried it. A wobbly stick man at first, with bright red hair and a pair of shorts. He smiled at her, but she didn't like it. She propped open The Gingerbread Man and had the title character chase after her little stick man. He wasn't smiling for much longer.
She copied drawings from the books, skipping through the tales to find images that she liked. Hers were nothing in comparison, but Orbona was right. Colouring was good for the soul.
Louisa studied the colours carefully. She found a picture of a character's face, using it as a template.
It took many attempts, many frustrated torn out pages tossed across the room and many more tears. When Orbona came to see her, once the store was closed, the sky was beginning to take on the hues of dusk, Louisa had done it.
It wasn't perfect, it wasn't exact, but she had drawn Arnie. His dark hair with its constant mess that never settled, the lopsided grin and his blue and brown eyes. She had picked out letters from the books around her, clumsily stencilling his name at the bottom of the page, trying to place patterns in the shapes of the letters.
The goddess leaned over, an arm around Louisa's shoulders. Her knuckles graced Louisa's cheek, collecting tears. "You've done him a real honour. It's a fantastic drawing."
"It ain't him though." Louisa mumbled. She set the drawing down, her hands shaking, laying the paper down like she was tucking it into bed.
"I know." Orbona nodded. She squashed her cheek on the child's head, feeling a tremble in her small shoulders. "Are you hungry?" She asked, brushing back a stray lock of hair. "I think I've got some fries in the shape of smiley faces. Want some?" Louisa didn't want smiley faces, but her stomach growled at the idea of food. Orbona smiled. "I might have some leftover cake too. Shall we go and see?" She straightened, offering her hand to Louisa.
Louisa looked at the table, at her strewn drawings and books, the nearly empty drawing pad and the pencils that were considerably shorter than when she got them and sitting in a pile of sharpening curls. Her gaze fell to Arnie's grinning face. She folded the paper up as neatly as she could and tucked it into her backpack. She took the goddess's hand and hopped down from her seat. "Mm. You need some vegetables too. Do you like carrots?"
