Fading Moon (Open to all)

Although her words should seem sad, they fill me with a strange sort of soft happiness and understanding. They make something inside me stir. A memory? An emotion?

No, it's a strange familiarity. I know I can't do anything to make her feel better. It's just not something worth trying, because she already has something. The moon.

Why didn't I recognize it before? It's the same feeling I have with the water. I dip my toe in, and my eyes shine clear and bright. Water. Something I'm constantly trying to tear myself away from. But why?

I've always told myself I was obsessed. But now, I realize it's more than that. The water is something that helps me when no one and nothing else can. My life is hard. Things don't always work out. And I'm far from perfect. But the water doesn't care about that, like a living thing or person would. The water accepts me no matter what.

The thing is, ever since my parents died, the water has been the thing I turn to. I give it problems like I would give my parents problems. And although it's sad, I'm trying to fill in the gap with water. And it helps. It helps so much. So why am I trying to seperate myself from it?

I remember how it calls me. How it grips me in it's invisable grasp. How it soothes me. How it washes my mind. And I smile.

"It almost seems alive," I say quietly. "It plays such a big part in our lives, we start to believe it lives. It breaths. But the fact that it's not living is what makes it fit in our lives so perfectly."

For a moment, I'm confused. Why is she angry? I didn't do anything wrong... did I?

And then it happens. There's only one way to describe it. A bright red firework, shooting up and exploding inside me. The loud boom, and then a million angry thoughts are being shouted in my head. And then a black one, and boom, another wave of nasty thoughts. Every muscel in my body becomes tense, my shoulders shove their way forward, and a pressure in the back of my throat builds up. A shout, wanting nothing more than to leave my lips.

It's such a sudden burst of anger, I feel hands become fists. That cool, silvery blue whispering voice in my head tries to soothe it, to make it die out, but the sparks have been ignored too long, the fire to hot to put out with simple words

Deep inside, a part of me is scared of this angry burts of fire. It hides it's face, but I barely notice it. No, I'm too far into the flames to see what I'm leaving behind. And all because of five little words...

"What is it?" I burst out suddenly, my voice raised slightly. "What did I do this time? What have I done that's so terrible in your eyes, but harmless in mine? I offer to teach you things, I try to calm you down, to comfort you, and you give be back angry words. And you know, words may not mean anything to you, but they mean so much to me! Like, for instance, the words that told me my grandma had just died. Or the words that constantly alert me of how I'm alone. That I'm all I have."

I'm almost shouting now, and I force myself to stop for a moment, to take a deep breath. There's still a nasty anger in me, though. Not raging anymore, but worse, in some ways.

"You're never going to get anywhere if you keep on complaining about what you don't have," I hiss, my voice like venom. "Although how you feel alone in such a big family is a mystery to me. You're life may not be easy, but mine is further away from perfect than yours will ever be!"

As soon as the words leave my lips, a tiny part of me wants to take them back. But no, I can't, and the angry part of me is glad they're out there.

I look down at the water, my eyes watching the ever ripples. So close...

"Yeah..." I say softly, frowning slightly. "Maybe."

But it doesn't seem like enough. Just to leave. She showed me a part of her world, and I showed her a part of mine. It's not like we can just drop it and leave.

Maybe I'll come back here sometime. Not tomorrow, or the day after. Not next week. Not too soon. But just maybe...

I lean over, picking up a tiny stone off of another rock. My finger grips the tiny thing, trying to pinch it inbetween my fingers.
The rock I'm standing on has a flat area perfect for what I have planned.

The first five words are easy. Forever ready if ever needed. Something that's very true. I think for a moment before it hits me. Don't forget me. Silver.

The smile that's found my lips is happy now. I stare at the broken white letters on the rock. She said she didn't really know how to read, but I think she'll be able to read this. If not, then it'll be something she can puzzle out for a while.

I stand up, and give a nod in her direction. "It was nice to meet you, Yucca. And remember, my house is right over there." I point in the direction once more. "If you can't find it, just ask about the girl with the silver hair. People will know who you're talking about."

I turn around, happy to have my positive attitude back. Back home, and off to bed. I'm tired. Or maybe just a few more pages by the fire, inside. A midnight swim after that? Why not? I could use the water.

A thought strikes me though, and as I hop over the rocks, back towards my home, I turn my head in her direction, and call out, "Good luck!"