TW - Suicidal ideation.

Fiona stared blankly at the wall. She wasn't sure how long she'd been staring at the wall but she continued to let it consume her.

It was a hollow day today. There were plenty of different types of day she'd have, they'd often clump together like seasons of different moods. Yesterday had been hollow and the day before that too. Tomorrow would also likely be hollow. It'd last until it became so unbearable it would break into a season of misery. Or perhaps she'd be lucky and have a particularly catching dream or thought and a season of inspiration or perhaps even excitement might break through her ever cloudy skies.

For now, though, all she had was the walls around her, the roof over her head, and that locked door. And the floor beneath her, of course. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against her bedpost, legs bent at the knee on the ground. The leg resting beneath the other one had passed tingly, she'd let the uncomfortable sensation happen, and her foot had already grown completely numb. It didn't matter. She continued to sit and stare, unmoving. Her eyes were glassy, blinking slowly. Despite her outward peace, her breath wasn't deep, instead it felt shallow, never quite filling her lungs.

She wasn't particularly lost in thought - getting lost in thought was a luxury after all. No, she knew exactly where she was. Her mind was blank. There wasn't much to think about. Only stare at the wall.

Her previous season had been terror; her fears replaying over and over until it became too much for her to handle. Of course, she mentally ran out of steam far before the hollow season began. She simply had to take the panic that swept over her day and night until her body finally had enough with it. It was never really within her control. The sweet hollow feeling was welcomed gratefully - staying until it too was ready to pass.

The glimmers of the previous season still sat within her as they all did, now buried deep, far away. It never truly left her. She still wanted to scream for help; tear her whole room apart, desperately begging for it. She wanted to threaten her own safety and dangle herself out of the window, as if trying to taunt fate and have someone finally, finally swoop in and save her. However, she also knew there was no point. No one was going to help her. No one would even hear her. If she did slip and fall from the window, she wondered how long it would take for even the dragon to notice, if it would at all. Contemplating the scenario didn't always bring her distress, especially not on a hollow day. It seemed harmless to her as the idea danced around in her mind while staring blankly at the wall. If it did anything, it made the hole inside of her chest feel bigger, the emptiness growing out from her heart, into her stomach, slowly trailing into all of her limbs. Her nails lightly grazed her forearms as she watched the brickwork. The hollowness trailed up into her throat finally turning her brain to stone.

She moved her legs, the terrible fuzzy sensation bursting back into her foot. Finally, she moved her gaze from the spot on the wall. She rotated her ankle around and stomped her blunt rock of a foot on the ground. She gritted her teeth as the sensation intensified. Feeling wasn't always a good thing. Feeling was far more painful. She focused on the sensation as it travelled up through her ankle. She laid her leg out in front of her, adjusting how she sat. The princess glared at her foot for a while, until the sensation began to dim.

She tucked her knees up and hugged them, resting her empty head. How she longed for someone to tell her that she'd be okay. If she wasn't going to receive any help, reassurance would be a good second place. She just needed to hear it from someone else, tired of only hearing it from her own mind. Her own voice was getting quieter and quieter. The reassurance she received as a child only got her so far. Memories of her parents' words grew so distant she could barely hear them anymore. Her memories felt especially far away in the hollow seasons. Almost as if nothing were real.

Her head snapped up as she heard giant echoey footsteps way below her. She heard the beating of wings. The princess jumped up and ran over to the window, eyes wide. She couldn't waste a second of time, it was far too precious. The magnificent beast entered her view as it gained height. She leant her elbows on the windowsill, resting her head. She never really knew when the dragon would grace her with its presence, nor did she really know for how long, but she looked forward to whenever it would fly around. It was the only thing that was different. It was her only entertainment that wasn't entirely predictable and created by herself.

It captivated her numb mind. She watched as it flew around in circles, it would disappear from her view as it rounded the entire keep, finally swooping back into sight. It flew higher, almost directly heading into the grey, dimly lit clouds. That was her favourite. The corner of her lips twitched, almost as if she wanted to smile. The dragon then turned and swooped downwards, flowing into its circles again. For something so large, it was still graceful, almost beautiful in a way. At certain angles, the scales caught what little sunlight broke through into the volcano. Mostly it was lit underneath by the lava, glowing. The dragon's laps gradually grew slower. Until it never appeared back into her vision. Instead there were vague echoes of giant footsteps, fading into silence.

It was over, leaving her to herself. She didn't move, her dry eyes staring directly ahead. Her hands seemed to ball themselves up into fists without her really knowing. As she continued to watch the empty view, her brow creased. Her slow, rhythmic breath caught in her throat. Suddenly, her stone brain burst into intense emotion, as if quickly turning to liquid and boiling over. The emotion poured into her chest, filling the hollow cavern within. It spilled into her limbs as she grew tense and restless, her arms seizing up.

"No," she said quietly into the nothing.

Her breathing turned rapid and her face creased. Fiona gritted her teeth, jaw clenched. She slammed her fists down onto the windowsill, before clutching it with desperate fingers.

"Noo!" she screamed out the window.

The liquid began leaking out of her eyes. They barely even had a chance to turn glassy before her face was soaked. A season of sorrow burst into her body like a broken dam. Unbearable, wounded. Her body seemed to collapse in on itself as she folded her arms on the windowsill and hunched her back. She cried loudly into her arms.

"Help m- me… please…" she wailed into herself.

Her body shuddered with her violent sobbing. She looked up, tears streaming. She held her face in her hands, her fingers rigid and claw-like. With blunted fingertips, she dug her digits into her cheeks and dragged her hands down her face. How intensely she wanted to turn her fingers inwards to scratch her face off, leaving her disfigured in the daytime too. She couldn't, she couldn't. She lifted her damp hands from her face, elbows still pressed on the windowsill, fingers splayed and rigid. She leant over and looked down. It was such a long way down into the dark keep that she couldn't even see the ground. She could never see the ground. Almost as if she'd be falling forever should she finally give in to her worst fantasy. Her heart ached as she stared into the darkness, no longer numb. Every rapid breath seemed to bring more tears that dripped from her chin down her neck or onto the windowsill. She pressed her wet hands into her hair, clutching onto her head. She watched the fall, it was a dizzying thought. She yearned for it. She so desperately wanted to feel the wind rushing around her until she hit the nothing that would encapsulate her existence. Forever hollow if she didn't have a body with feelings to inhabit.

She forced herself to look upwards, slowly, against her will. Her hands slid down over her ears, until they were under her chin again. She leaned on her elbows, breathing shuddering breaths, blinking at the swirling dark clouds in the sky; the clouds she saw every single day and night. She couldn't look at them anymore. Her face creased again. The dark nothing below called her, she couldn't look at that either. She turned her head and gasped loudly, her storm of a mind coming to a sudden standstill as she startled. She'd caught a glimpse of something in the corner of her vision. A dark ominous figure. She turned into the room quickly, her heartbeat loud. It was empty, as empty as it always was. Of course. Her body was jittery, her mind suddenly buzzing with thoughts, so fast she could barely capture anything to think about.

Her eyes landed on her pillow. She stumbled the few steps it took to get to her bed and with both hands she clutched hold of it. She dragged the pillow over to her and dug her fingers deep into it. With hands full, she gripped and pulled them apart as hard as she could. The pillow stretched as she vocalised her frustration through gritted teeth. She watched the seams she'd made from previous undesirable seasons popping, stitch by stitch, until it finally tore, feathers bursting into the room. She dropped the split pillow and collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving, feathers floating around her.

She squeezed her eyes closed, spilling more tears where she lay. She cried until there were no more tears left. Until a sense of hollowness consumed her again. Until she could feel nothing. She lay there, unmoving, staring at the back of her eyelids with nothing to think about except the idea of falling.

Until she was falling, the wind rushing past her, her braid coming loose. Her skirt whipped around her legs. She twisted in the air as if she were twirling, her hair tangling around her. Holding one arm out, as if it were resting on an invisible shoulder, she took hold of her skirt, swaying it. She twirled in the air some more as she rushed downwards. Dancing in the perilous descent. Widening her eyes, she felt a hand on her waist. She felt a shoulder underneath her own hand. And she wasn't falling anymore. Instead, she was stepping around a dark room of nothing. It was so dark, she couldn't even see her dance partner. He whistled a slow tune for them to dance to, but they danced out of time, much too fast for the song he produced. He took the hand she was holding her skirt with, it was covered in fur, sharp claws grazed her skin. He stopped whistling.

"Hey," he spoke in a deep voice.

He pulled her closer as they danced. Perhaps this was something she should be afraid of, she acknowledged, but the emotion didn't quite take hold. Instead it felt peaceful. He was holding her, he was dancing with her. That's all she wanted.

Letting go of her waist, he spun her outward. She closed her eyes, letting her feet land where they may. She felt her skirt billow out around her and then close in. Her eyes widened as she lost her footing, she was suddenly teetering on an edge. She stood on her toes, no ground available to rest her heels on. He caught her, a strong arm around her waist. A snout appeared from his hood, red glowing eyes blinked open. He didn't let her go. It was all a part of the dance. She relaxed into her dance partner. He lowered her into a dip, hanging over the edge of the dark room full of nothing. Her hair dangled into the abyss, she closed her eyes, breathing steadily.

"Fall with me, Fiona," he said, loosening his grip.

Her whole body seemed to jolt, as if she were actually falling. Her eyes were thrown open, releasing her from the freedom of sleep. Her bed was firmly beneath her, in fact she'd barely moved in her time sleeping. Immediately, golden sparkles engulfed her vision, attaching themselves to her body, rearranging it into larger proportions. She sat up, feathers surrounding her, torn pillow hanging off the side of her bed. She took a deep breath and sighed, quietening her heartbeat. It was nighttime now. She laid back down, curling into a ball. All that was left to do was sleep.

. . .

Sorry about the whiplash from the previous chapter - oops. I wrote this like three months ago and have since started on SSRIs I'M FINE lmao.

I was actually really excited to be able to squeeze Death into something, he's such a cool character and I desperately needed an excuse to write him.

Also, you should listen to Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine. If you haven't heard it before… stick with it. Listen until the end.