[Image Description: a purple and red banner, the words “#FFF62 Let me go” are written in white. End Image Description.]
I’ve been missing from this even for quite a while, but this prompt sparked my inspiration so here it is! Like always, a huge thanks to @flashfictionfridayofficial for this!
These past few weeks I’ve been working on my new WIP, but sometimes the ideas just don’t really want to approach you that easily. I tried to explain how I feel here.
Title: Let me go
Warnings: there are hungry wolves, but not much else.
Staring down at the blank depths of the white empty sea, my hands tremble. I pass them through my hair, gritting my teeth, breathing in the cold air.
My tongue is dry, my eyes begging at the infinite light to stop torturing them.
Two vicious wolves, black as the night and tongues panting their hunger, circle my body, preventing me from escaping.
Their bodies are stained red, scars from the years of neglect and hate, but sometimes a ray of light shines through, reflecting a single drop of white that pierces the darkness, showing lines on their skins.
Curved lines, straight lines, little circles and waves. Hidden beneath the fur, under the fear and the anxiety, there are words waiting to be shown to the world.
"Let me go", I say, voice pleading. "Let me go and I promise I shall release you from your dark prison."
The wolves stop on their tracks, the world falling silent without their panting, the white waves below crashing on the rocks in far away roars.
I approach the beasts, my hand reaching out. A snarl makes me jump back, but the eyes of the beast soften, giving me the courage to touch him.
It is rough, but no harm comes to my hand. I push through, singing soft words of praise. The wolf sits down, pushing his head towards my hand, making it sink into his fur. The lines on his skin reverberate in golden light, the words coming back to life.
With my other hand, I grab his paw, the words slithering towards my arm. Without a second thought, I throw them into the white ocean. The water gargles, absorbing the words, and its empty depths fill with colors and scents in a little explosion of life.
The wolf is sitting still during all this, wagging his tail at my petting. The words slither from his skin down to the ground, making their way towards the sea, life blooming in the waves.
The other wolf, head hanging low and ears flattened, approaches me. I welcome him into my arms.
In the end, the sea is finally ready to show its true colors, words floating in the waves, connecting with each other in sentences, scenes and emotion.
The wolves sit next to me, sleeping peacefully, words painting the earth. I pet their heads, letting sleep embrace my tired mind.
Stars, Space, and The Struggle of Choosing to Stay
The glass was thicker than it needed to be. She wouldn’t care, but it did odd things to the Martian sky. Lovely, red tinged nothingness. She’d miss it.
“What, the fuck, is this?”
His voice clanged off the pipes, and the station creaked, like old buildings do. When your old building is on a rather unfriendly planet, creaks take on a more sinister flare.
She didn’t answer him.
He appeared next to her. Almost a decade later, and she still couldn’t pick up on his footfalls.
“Stia, what did you do?”
She shrugged. Kat cleared his throat and shoved his hands in pockets, staring out at the reddish landscape.
“No human in history has ever been good at knowing,” he said softly.
“Knowing what?”
“When, or whether, to let go. We’re not good at it—some of us err on the side of bolting at the first possible moment, and some of us are too stubborn to see our own downfall.”
“Yeah, and what am I?”
Heat prickled under her skin, gearing up for a fight. He looked at her, gaze steady.
“Only you would know,” he said, turning around.
The heat turned into a raging boil.
“We’ve been working together for damn near a decade! You know me as well as anyone.”
He was back, right in front of her face, with the speed that had saved lives when the panels burst in the greenhouse. She could see the faint freckles on his cheekbones.
“And isn’t that just it? I do know you as well as anyone.”
And as quick, it was ice in her veins instead of fire. His eyes softened, ever so faintly around the edges. “Eight years, and I doubt anyone’s ever gotten closer.”
Even though it was on the other side of the station, she felt the break before the alarms started in. The air sucking out of the room set off a mad dash for the spacesuits. The spacesuits in their lockers too far down the hall, the lack of oxygen already sending colors shimmering around the edges of her vision.
She wasn't sure how far down the hall she made it, but she'd always insist it was further than Kat said.
There was a wonderful rush of oxygen, painful in her lungs as the world seeped back into focus. She let her head loll against the wall, encased in the helmet Kat had snapped into place.
They looked at each other, his eyes an odd shade of green through the tinted faceplate. She sighed, and turned towards the maintenance shaft, the meter on her arm blinking out the breathable air left. This wasn’t the first time, and it was unlikely to be the last.
“I’ll get started on the patch, you turn off the oxygenator and life support.”
“Two years.”
“What?”
“Two years in, I knew I’d never know you better than I did right then.”
He left her standing there. Alone with a sudden burst of murderous intent. So that was probably for the best.
Eight years, she’d lived in what was essentially a canvas tent on the surface of an alien world. The canvas tent had metal patches, leftover bits of ideas about building something more permanent. They were left as markers as the interest ebbed and flowed back on Earth. Personally, she was a little more fond of the canvas. It didn’t burst when weakened, just flexed with the shifting wind. She held the flame steady, running a line down the raw edge of the new metal, welding it to the old.
“Alright, you can turn the life support back on,” she said into the comms and then waited for the telltale rattle of the vents.
“Kat?”
Nothing. She rolled her eyes. The melodramatic shit.
He was on his back, underneath the oxygenator, when she walked into life support. “Something wrong?”
“No,” he grunted, fighting with something.
She picked up a wrench and nudged him with the toe of her boot. He slid over as she lay down next to him, the problem readily apparent.
A distinct pang of loss shot through her chest, and she swore she could feel his warmth bleeding into her arm—if that wasn’t literally impossible given the suits. An image of herself, alone under the blue sky, flashed across her mind.
The communication systems flared to life, a message mingling with the low oxygen alert in her suit. And his.
“That would be for you.”
“It was late, ok? And I may have been a little drunk, and you were being a particular brat.”
Kat got quiet, still struggling with the bolt.
“And command asked if you wanted to leave.”
“Every two years, like clockwork.”
He slammed the wrench against the bolt.
“You’re turning it the wrong direction.”
“I am not.”
“It’s the reverse thread one, you’re turning it the wrong way.”
“Know-it-all.”
“You called me shallow.”
“No,” he gritted, the bolt moving, “I called you closed off.”
The weight of more than one world came crashing down on her shoulders. If she’d spent eight years with the same person, revolving around each other like their own private solar system, and still couldn’t manage some vulnerability. Well. That was that, and this was it.
“I knew it.”
“Knew what?” he asked, still fighting with the bolt.
“Everything I’ve ever wanted is fiction.”
“Maybe it just takes some effort.”
“I am! This is me putting in effort—a decade’s worth!”
The screen chirped, insisting on an answer.
“No.”
He rolled his eyes.
“No,” she continued, “You know what? You don’t get to dictate to me who I am.”
There it was. That quiet look it’d taken her a couple years to decode, but he appreciated having a real human next to him, and not the mimicry of a good little soldier.
This took me a long time to think of something to do. I didn’t do last weeks prompt but oh well. We’re back and we got some drama. Just know if you’re confused by what’s going on, I (the author) am just as confused as you and probably more. Jay and Ry do as they wish I don’t know. @flashfictionfridayofficial
251 words
“Let go of me!” Jay cried out, trying to wrench his arm from my grip, “let go!”
“What are you doing here?” I hissed, anger creeping into my voice, I only tightened my hand around his arm.
“I’m not doing anything!” his voice shook with desperation, his red eyes shone with fear, “I’m leaving. I’m leaving!”
“I want to know what you’re doing here,” I repeated firmly. Grabbing his other arm.
“Please! I didn’t mean it. Please, please, please,” he begged, tears were welling up in the corners of his eyes, “let me go please! If Father time finds me here he’ll kill me!”
I frowned at Jay, he was in hysterics, begging me to let him go.
“I wasn’t trying to do anything! I wanted to help!” his voice broke, he dropped to his knees almost pulling me down with him, “please... I don’t want to get hurt!”
“What are you talking about?” my eyes darted back and forth, “what’s going on with you?”
“Veo! Trinh has him!” Jay sobbed, “I know where he is! I just wanted to help!”
My eyes widened with surprise, “where is he?”
Suddenly Jay went limp, he stopped thrashing. He stopped crying. In my surprise I let go of his arms, but as soon as I let go he jumped up to his feet. His eyes were dull, emotionless.
“Jay?” I feared that he was going to attack me, he bolted in the opposite direction instead.
a love letter full of truths (truths I never said)
(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial‘s prompt: FFF62. Not related to anything else but I have exams coming so have a small poetic piece. Enjoy!)
I think I loved you once upon a nightmare.
I knew you like I knew the crack of your whip-sharp smile. I knew you by the scent of your lies. I knew you by the quickening of my heart every time you spoke to me.
You were beautiful to me, once upon that selfsame nightmare, and maybe someone else will find you beautiful when I am gone. I will miss the song of your voice as we sat alone in a room and played a game that no one ever won. I will miss the scrape of your fingers across the chess board as you twisted the truth until I wasn’t sure what was true and what was false.
I once called our relationship ‘mutual mind games’ as a joke.
I think I loved you once. But loving you was never the problem, was it?
(I’ll think of you and later, when I whisper secrets that only you knew to someone who is my past, my present and my future, I’ll remember who you once were to me.)
