Siobhan Merek
The sun dripped through the windows and onto the wooden floor like a golden ocean, enveloping my fingers in it's honey sweet warmth as it crept towards me. I'd watched the sun do the same in reverse what had felt like minutes ago though I knew that was not the case, my eyelids were too heavy for that to be so. Though I couldn't sleep as hard as a tried, even though I was content with watching the sun slowly embrace me I couldn't help but wish I'd been able to sleep through the morning. Though I'd been home in Regalia for a week, on the cusp of two, I was still nervous about the impression I was leaving on my father and brother. Though I only saw my brother Noah when I left the house, still slumped over with his chin to his chest asleep on the chair by the living room window, the stench of alcohol and perfume still rolling off him in waves from the night before, I'd seen my father everyday. I'd gone out of my way to take him to breakfast or wander with him through the park chatting about the friends he'd made and how ecstatic my mother will be when I finish and send her my letter. That was the thought that plagued me, writing a letter to the woman I hadn't seen for eight years. I remember her as strict and headstrong, foul mouthed with a short temper, though I also remember how she never struck me when I caused mischief and never showed a bias between Noah and I. I also remember how stunning she was, long white hair contrasting her dark purple skin, how elegantly pointed her ears were and how sweet her smile was, how it reached her eyes and caused subtle creases at the sides of her eyes.
Shifting a hand I push myself to a seated position and gaze out the window at the world beyond, feeling like it was gazing back at me. I rose to my feet and shift my attention downwards to the wrinkled dress I was still wearing from the previous afternoon that I hadn't bothered to tear from my body, brushing a calloused hand lazily over the fabric before reaching the same hand out and wrapping my fingers around the silver brush on the worn wooden table and lifting it to my thick black hair. Brushing the mess into a tame curtain tumbling down my back I then place the brush back down and pull on the beige boots my father had brought me as a welcome home gift. They didn't quite fit properly though it was most certainly more appropriate than the worn leather boots I'd came to Regalia in. I turned to glance at the blank piece of parchment set on the table, the faded and smothered memory of my mother passing through my mind once more, causing me to turn in such a hurry that my feet took a heartbeat longer to follow the rest of my body, sending me stumbling down the stairs. I grip the banister at the base of the stairs and pull myself to a halt, grimacing at the guttural groan that emitted from the living room after the noise from my colossal fail at walking. A difficult task that. Taking a moment to walk like a regular woman I make my way to the front door, gripping the brass door handle and pulling it open, feeling the world inhale quickly and hold it's breath as I teetered on the edge between my small portion of the world and it's own immense play ground. I stood for a moment before stepping out into the early morning sun, light playing on my dark hair and olive skin as the light sweet breeze danced with the golden-red leaves high over head. The bird song and nearby chatter from the Tavern returned to the world as if it had never left, though maybe it hadn't.
Maybe it was I who had ceased to exist.
The sun dripped through the windows and onto the wooden floor like a golden ocean, enveloping my fingers in it's honey sweet warmth as it crept towards me. I'd watched the sun do the same in reverse what had felt like minutes ago though I knew that was not the case, my eyelids were too heavy for that to be so. Though I couldn't sleep as hard as a tried, even though I was content with watching the sun slowly embrace me I couldn't help but wish I'd been able to sleep through the morning. Though I'd been home in Regalia for a week, on the cusp of two, I was still nervous about the impression I was leaving on my father and brother. Though I only saw my brother Noah when I left the house, still slumped over with his chin to his chest asleep on the chair by the living room window, the stench of alcohol and perfume still rolling off him in waves from the night before, I'd seen my father everyday. I'd gone out of my way to take him to breakfast or wander with him through the park chatting about the friends he'd made and how ecstatic my mother will be when I finish and send her my letter. That was the thought that plagued me, writing a letter to the woman I hadn't seen for eight years. I remember her as strict and headstrong, foul mouthed with a short temper, though I also remember how she never struck me when I caused mischief and never showed a bias between Noah and I. I also remember how stunning she was, long white hair contrasting her dark purple skin, how elegantly pointed her ears were and how sweet her smile was, how it reached her eyes and caused subtle creases at the sides of her eyes.
Shifting a hand I push myself to a seated position and gaze out the window at the world beyond, feeling like it was gazing back at me. I rose to my feet and shift my attention downwards to the wrinkled dress I was still wearing from the previous afternoon that I hadn't bothered to tear from my body, brushing a calloused hand lazily over the fabric before reaching the same hand out and wrapping my fingers around the silver brush on the worn wooden table and lifting it to my thick black hair. Brushing the mess into a tame curtain tumbling down my back I then place the brush back down and pull on the beige boots my father had brought me as a welcome home gift. They didn't quite fit properly though it was most certainly more appropriate than the worn leather boots I'd came to Regalia in. I turned to glance at the blank piece of parchment set on the table, the faded and smothered memory of my mother passing through my mind once more, causing me to turn in such a hurry that my feet took a heartbeat longer to follow the rest of my body, sending me stumbling down the stairs. I grip the banister at the base of the stairs and pull myself to a halt, grimacing at the guttural groan that emitted from the living room after the noise from my colossal fail at walking. A difficult task that. Taking a moment to walk like a regular woman I make my way to the front door, gripping the brass door handle and pulling it open, feeling the world inhale quickly and hold it's breath as I teetered on the edge between my small portion of the world and it's own immense play ground. I stood for a moment before stepping out into the early morning sun, light playing on my dark hair and olive skin as the light sweet breeze danced with the golden-red leaves high over head. The bird song and nearby chatter from the Tavern returned to the world as if it had never left, though maybe it hadn't.
Maybe it was I who had ceased to exist.
