C h i r o g r a p h y❀

Just a place where I share...

[kaviiita]

The sound crashed her eardrums, lulling for her to calm. Seagulls cry out in the distance, calling to one another in the vast beach. The sand beneath her bare feet felt light as air. She scrunched her eyes, unconsciously curling her toes. After calming herself, she opened her sea-green eyes. Her gaze was met with crystalline waves, licking and rolling on the shore. It was a beautiful morning with the sunshine's delicate caress towards the Coast. A beautiful morning for another volleyball match.

"Atlanta!" At the call of her name, Atlanta turned towards the voice. Now her eyes caught the boardwalk, and on the stairs running down was Percival, her little brother. She couldn't suppress her smile as he stumbled across the uneven sand towards her. The young boy stopped in front of her, his unsteady breathing indicates that his lungs were out of oxygen. And with the grace of an electrolyte infused child, he snapped his gaze to her, his ocean blue curls bouncing.

"I caught your shoes!" Percival boasted. His hand shot up as if to display the catch of the day. In his palm were her shoes, held tight by the laces. The wings flapped frantically as an effort for freedom. Atlanta cringed at the sight. She took the shoes gently from her brother's hand, relieving it from the abuse.

"Thanks. Percival," she granted. Her obnoxious brother gave her a dimpled grin before settling beside her on the bench. The young athlete swiftly shoved her feet into the fitted shoes, silencing the flapping of wings. Atlanta stood up and tested the waters. Right foot up. Left up.

Suddenly, the shoes came to life. It flapped its wings almost contented, impatient to take flight. Atlanta smiled at her sneakers' bizarreness— then a horn sounded over the East Coast air. Percival gasped. He grabbed his sister's arm and started to pull. "Come on, you're gonna be late!"

The statement snapped Atlanta back to reality. Catching up on the news, she grabbed her duffle bag and ran. She could sense Percival trying to follow her fast pace. As a good sister, she should wait. But at the moment, she'd throw responsibility out the window.

They arrived just in time. Atlanta praised that luck is on her side. The volleyball court was crowded. People of all nationalities flocked the sidelines, cheering and placing bets on the competitors. With strong will, Atlanta managed to squeeze her way through the crowd and to the benches. Not a moment's tick, the crowd started to notice her presence.

Cheers erupted from the crowds. dozens of people called her name, encouraging pressure down to her. But Atlanta was fine. She was used to the fame. The girl tied her blue ombre hair back into a ponytail with a weathered down scrunchie. The stray hairs were bound down with a white sport band dusted with sand. She secured the laces of her winged shoes and finally, cracked her neck. The crowd's uproar were like crashing waves in her ears when she stood up. It doesn't matter if she's tardy, they'll still cheer for her.

The neighborhood champion strode confidently into the court. She acknowledged her teammates, high-fiving all of them as an act of sportsmanship. Even if she was a famous athlete, Atlanta won't plunge herself low enough to be snob. She let out a deep breath as she positioned herself up front. Her eyes flitted towards the sidelines. She observed her watchers, her rivals, and her family. Percival was amongst them, his cheers were the loudest of them all. Atlanta flashed a smile at him.

She wasn't worried as she focused back. She was Atlanta Monette. The neighborhood champion. The top of her class. The athletic prodigy. The perfect girl. The thought turned her smile into a wicked grin— and adrenaline coursed through her the moment the whistle shouted.

[kaviiita]

Plum blossoms fluttered down red-maned leaves, bleeding out their colour like the late sunshine of dusk. Albeit the middle of autumn, the trees still hold tight to their leaves, uneager to let them wilt. The air held a musty scent to it, like freshly burned cedarwood mixed with herbs from the Valley. A soft breeze twirled a forked leaf between its fingers, playing with it like a child would a toy. It frisks through the orchards pathway then up and up a grassy hill. Atop the hill, a cottage perched. It's mahogany walls were painted purple of the twilight sky, its roof slightly slanted and rickety. The porch was made out of rough cobblestone with a sandy pathway of gravel. The leaf snagged on the handle of an open window; though the wind still feigns purchase of it.

Beyond the window was a girl. Her flaming locks formed corkscrew curls down her shoulder, with a bow to complete her grace. She hummed a tune as she walked around the house. Shelves of different shapes, sizes, and material line the walls. A wooden one held jars of what looks like glowing eggs, thorny fruits, and a disturbingly amount of amphibian body parts. Various herbs hung from a metal rack, the fragrances so mixed up it stings the nostrils. A small bookshelf made out of actual books stored textbooks so tiny it surely belonged to a mouse.

Though the most iconic part of the room was the cauldron. It spewed grey smoke from where it stood in the middle of the room. The metal bowl was a true masterpiece. Intricate carvings of vines and lilies circled the rim, while the body consists of rolling waves from a raging sea. It stood with the paws of a lion, its claws unsheathed to grip the flooring.

A soft 'plop!' emitted from the cauldron when the girl threw an ingredient into its contents. She leaned forward, sniffing the smoke. Her eyes closed while a smile unravelled her lips. Her caramel complexed fingers gripped a wooden spoon and started to stir. The aroma of cinnamon and apples rippled throughout the space. A full cycle was not made when the girl stopped abruptly. Autumn opened her coffee brown eyes and glanced to her right. She abandoned her post by the cauldron and stepped towards the wooden shelf. She scanned for the specific addition she was looking, with a finger tapping on her pink-hued lips, unaware of the wooden spoon melting into the soup. At last she found what she was looking for. She unscrewed the cap of the mason jar which contained neon-coloured dust. Without measuring, she simply shoved her hand and threw a palmful into the stew.

Satisfaction graced her face when the liquid started to glow. There's nothing better than pixie dust! She thought, quoting her grandmother from the east side of the Valley.

A tingle made her look outside. She skipped towards the cushioned windowsill and leaned out the window. As far as the eye can see, plum trees sectioned the front of the cottage. A zephyr ruffled Autumn's curls, inside making her feel like a princess in a tower. Though she was not. Amidst the greenery, a swath of grey stole her attention. Autumn let out an overjoyed gasp.

"Oh, Zavi~" she preened. Who knows that a lovesick girl could move with inhuman speed? Because a few seconds later, Autumn was already bouncing down the path, a rattan basket in hand. She didn't even have thought to put on slippers, staining her cat patterned socks with dirt. When she arrived at the spot where she saw her friend, Zavier seemed to be scampering away.

"Zavi?" she queried, head tilting to the side. The boy in front of her halted. She must have hallucinated the exasperated groan coming from him. And then he turned around.

Autumn could detect the swelling heat rushing her cheeks The boy in front of her was flawless. Well, at least for her. Zavier's dark brown hair was mussed, its waviness spreading to his ears. The dove wings behind his back were spread out as if preparing to take flight. Though that couldn't be right. Zavier likes her. And she adores him. Zavier could never be more handsome in the grey turtleneck sweatshirt he is wearing now, along with ripped jeans to complete his scruffy look. At that moment, Autumn was anxious about her own look. She hoped the off-shoulder twilight dress she is wearing made her look pretty. Those piercing green eyes always managed to weaken Autumn's legs. He was offering her a crooked grin, the awkwardness she mistook as a quirk.

With a skip, she was in front of him. Zavier flinched, though the hyperactive girl didn't notice. Autumn stared up at him hence the height difference. "Stealing plums again?" It wasn't rare for him to steal fruits from her vast orchards. Sometimes she knew but didn't bother him. But most of the times, Autumn too the leisure of seeing his adorable face.

The boy conjured an awkward chuckle. "You know me so well, Autumn." Right as those words come out, Zavier cursed himself for such a luring response. But Autumn's eyes sparkled.

"Of course I do!" Autumn squealed. Zavier was dreading every second of this meeting with the very beating of his heart. He wished he could steal some of the autumn plums without the crazy girl knowing, but he had misjudged her infatuation. Suddenly, Autumn looped her arm to Zavier's. "You want to drop by? I'm making plum soup!"

As tempting as that sounded, Zavier would rather pass. "Um— no thanks, uh, Autumn," He unlatched her grip. "My parents would be looking for me. Uh-" he turned around spreading his wings to full length. At the last moment, he turned his head and said sheepishly. ”Bye."

With that, he flew away with a gust of air, disturbing the fallen leaves of the orchard. Autumn sighed dreamily. She watched the blue, blue sky where he disappeared. The bronze girl took in a long breath of fresh air. The sun was warm on her skin, though the euphoria made her feel warmer. It was a perfect day to pick the harvesting plum. As it is a perfect day in the Valley.

[kaviiita]

The tiny harbor was silent except for the rolling waves licking the sand at the shore. Seagulls added additional squawks from yellow beaks. A strangled sound caught her attention from her morning prayers. The notepad beside her flew open by the salty breeze of the shore, its yellow papers flapping. After fixing her hijab, she stepped outside the small wooden gazebo. Smoothing out her floral patterned skirt as she slipped on the flip flops that were resting on the sandy pathway.

She shielded her eyes from the bright morning sunlight, changing the vast expanse of blue water to golden liquid. Her eyes travelled up the hill where the resort house is. Sighting nothing, she turned towards the shore. She noticed not a peculiar sight.

Seashells scattered on the sand.

The waves lapping gently.

A cave against the rocky barrier.

The seaside was really peaceful, she had just admitted. She didn’t mind the cold harsh wind from the raging ocean. The people in the neighborhood were very considerate in certain circumstances. And the view was remarkable. As she weighed the pros and cons, a loud squawk from a seagull startled her. At the command of her reflexes, she turned her attention at the source of the sound. The sight before her was impossible to expect.

Her throat went dry.

Her eyes widened.

The atmosphere around her changed. The peaceful breeze turned into a ruthless one, slapping her body with cold air. Her hands turned clammy as she squeezed her knuckles repeatedly. It was barely visible from her position. She didn’t believe she spotted it. She wouldn’t believe she had spotted it.

His leg was angled in a weird way. So was his neck. The blood gushed out from the man’s throat, tainting the sand around him to crimson red.

[kaviiita]

1 ✓ Favorite OC #oceptember #oceptember2019 #writing #literature #oc #day1oceptember #day1oceptember2019 https://www.instagram.com/p/B157gqQl20P/?igshid=1u298jbx3dauh

[kaviiita]

“Melodies blasted when she opens the door.

It revealed a kaleidoscopic castle.

Festivities all around.

Dancing faces obscured by masks.

Fireworks lit up the ceiling.

The Academy couldn’t be more carnivalesque.

Welcome, welcome one and all.

To a Figment of tricks and magic.”

Passages

[kaviiita]

Red Light

A murder of crows cawed from atop a dead tree, contrast against the blood red sky. The crimson moon lit up the night by its red light. Packed earth cracked due to the lack of liquid. Fallen leaves the colour of dirt and dead wishes littered the barren plains. Sure, it wasn’t a sight, yet it was home.

He eyed from house to house; their Victorian-style looked vintage yet regal all the same. Owen dragged his red bicycle towards a Victorian house at the end of the cul de sac. The house was darker than the others; its deep shade of purple looked black in the night. And way bigger too, its sharp pointed roof clawing the sky. Owen parked his bicycle in a bike rack at the concrete sidewalk. Supporting a bloody nose, he lumbered towards the house. His hand took a grip on the porch’s railing before he unlocked the door with a key he fished from his pocket. The solid wooden door opened smoothly despite its antique exterior. His fatigued blink developed into a confused look at the non-lit house. Before he could even think, blinding light hit him the eyes.

Owen squinted his eyes as a ripple of “Happy birthday!”s rang through the room. His eyes widened as he saw the sight before him. The ceiling was decorated with ribbons that almost reached the floor. A big white banner hung, on it words of “Happy 12th Birthday, Owen!” was written in red paint. A wide variety of food filled the kitchen’s countertop. Ranging from salads to pizza to a three-tiered devil’s cake that was fully decorated in fondant and all sorts of cream patterns. Presents stacked on the living room floor, boxes in all shapes and sizes, wrappers a festivity of colours. His whole family was there. Which consisted of the whole block, it was a family neighbourhood after all. Owen’s parents smiled warmly down on their son, meanwhile his older brother and sister beamed cheerfully at him. His aunts and uncles eyes were bright with happiness, even his cousins seemed to be well behaved.

But the euphoria dispersed immediately as the family of necromancers noticed Owen’s battered face. Noticing the sudden change of atmosphere, Owen covered his face with a hand. “Hi, everyo-“

He was cut off when his mother strode towards him. Owen tried to conceal his demeanour but to no avail, as his mother pulled his hand urgently. “What happened to you?” she exclaimed, worry trimmed her tone. Owen feared this would happen. “I-i’m fine! Seriously!”

“Bull,” his brother hissed. “You have blood all over your face. Also, your face looks like a plum!” Owen’s eyes widened. Of course he had expected to look horrible, but not horrendous. He avoided eye contact from anyone as they circled around him. A few moments passed which consisted of worried glances, boiling emotions, and suspicious whispers. With a defeated sigh, he stared dead ahead at the crowd before him. “I just got in a fight with a kid at school, that’s all.” A snort came from his sister. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Seriously, okay. I’m fine,” he smiled.

A wave of reluctance washed over the family. Attempting to change the mood, Owen made his signature face and inquired, “Now can we eat the cake?” A few chuckles erupted from the crowd, making his beaming face even brighter. A hand touched his head and ruffled his hair. His brother stared down at him with a softer expression. “Just so you know, we always got your back, buddy. Now clean up, then cake.”

Wow, Owen thought. He really did have the best family.

[kaviiita]

“He climbed into the cosmos.

It was a land of stars.

Vast glowing skies.

A humble town.

With humble people.

And a city above.

Inhabited by starlight citizens.

A Figment with hope and peaceful beings.”

Passages

[kaviiita]

Petrichor

drip…

drip…

drop…

a soft gasp escaped from between pink lips which turned into a smile as more raindrops fell from the sky. instinctively she fought the urge to dash out there and get soaked by the drops. imagining the musky scent of water from packed clouds in the grey sky already heightened her spirits. squealing, she turned around from her perch on the window sill. upon coming on the sight of her friend still laying on the tea stained carpet, she frowned. the girl stood up and roughly pulled the earphones that were plugged deep inside of one's ears. “what?” he asked, slurry from what they usually called “tea trance”.

“it’s raining!”

“so?”

she groaned. “ugh, come on! don’t pretend like you don’t know. i want to go outside!” without explanation she darted to a trunk beside a teak wardrobe. the contents were visible from the yellow light illuminating the room. her hands swiftly carried out a pair of yellow rubber boots the colour of sunshine and happy memories. she applied the attribute on her sock coated feet. lazy eyes watched her process as rain pattered harder outside the exterior of the house. “but we’re having so much fun here already!” he stretched.

finally able to put on the boots, she walked to a wooden hanger beside the bed where a yellow raincoat dangled limply from its handles. the bedroom was mildly simple but it brought the element of coziness. “we’re just hanging out listening to music and drinking tea. what’s the fun in that?” she joked. the boy landed a careless lopsided grin at her, his golden brown curls falling just above his eyes. “that’s where the fun’s hidden.” he turned his attention down to twirling a pencil between his fingers. “some people are just not lucky enough to realize it.”

“are you saying i’m not lucky?”

“probably.”

she giggled, which sounded like fizzing soda and daydream bubbles, a heavenly choice of words when you think about it (not to brag). “are you coming?” she said. she draped the yellow coat with a quick motion, covering her turtleneck sweater underneath. in a middle of a november rain, you can never be too warm. “in case you forget, i’m not really fond of rain.” his voice was emotionless when the words came out of his mouth. she frowned. when some people hear his tone as rude, she discovered a deeper pain in it. she knew how hard it would be for him to experience the joy of rain again, but she had to try.

retracing her steps to the wooden wardrobe, she opened it. inside racks of neatly folded clothes piled in pairs. she reached for a specific bright red fabric at the bottom. the boy had looked away from her activities. he now gazed at the white painted brick walls of the bedroom. his eyes traveling through each crack as if some hidden answer would be revealed from it. without a word, she tossed the firetruck red attire to him. it landed on his head which she had done purposefully. she turned away and headed to the set of wooden stairs.

“come on. i have a pair of boots downstairs.”

“i can’t.”

she stopped at the first steps and looked back. her friend was clutching the raincoat tightly in his fists. with his gaze narrowed away, she couldn’t clearly see his eyes. the first thing she does to see through people’s walls, was to look at their eyes. eyes are the window to the heart. even though some people built their walls too high. “i want to, but…” he trailed off. footsteps approached him softly. he glared up, not in a threatening way, but in a way she couldn’t quite decipher. “come on, i’ll help you!” she added a little bounce on purpose, hoping it would coax something inside him.

magically, it worked. “fine. but if i suddenly got hit by a car, it’s on you.” he tried to joke. they both know that’s not going to happen. this part of the suburb was never busy with cars. she noticed that he got up with mildly shaky legs. with a smile she looped her arm around his, guiding him down the stairs. by the time she fished the boots from the shoe closet, he had already put on the raincoat. she was satisfied with his usual behaviour. hood up with pocketed hands. as she opened the door of the petite house, she heard him let out a shaky breath. a gust of wind rushed into the house, spraying bits of rainwater onto her face. without another look back, she ran out and spread out her arms. euphoria engulfed her in an instance. the pitter-patter of the rain surrounded her like harmony to her ears. the weight crashing onto her comes down with force, yet delicate, like a hug from someone understanding. her laugh blended splendidly, offering another note to the song.

she finally looked back at her friend. he still stood at the doorway. his lips turned into a thin line as he flinched at every contact with water. her eyes softened. the boots made splashing noises on the puddles forming into the dents of the road. an outstretched hand was offered.

drop…

drop…

drip…

a reluctant hand answered. she gripped it tight, with a mild squeeze for reassurance. guiding him to the contrast world of dry and wet. crisp and soggy. warm and cold. she told him that there was nothing to be afraid of.