d11 . leia lewis

Fractured moonlight slides between the patio rafters. The night is familiar territory, a time filled with soothing silence that reaches into your soul. The gentle breeze rustles the trees that line the farm, whispering sweetly into the chill night air as I stare at the stars. They dance, peeking behind lazy clouds as they carry the nights wishes away. I'm almost wistful as I watch the world move around me. I can feel a deep appreciation of the sting of cold against my skin, and the beauty of the night calling to me as I tilt my head back.

Long strands of black hair fall around my shoulders, cascading down my back as I peer into the darkness. Sometimes I want to call out to it, dare it to part with its secrets, and confide them within my soul. But I do not know its name. How unfortunate that I cannot speak to the pulsing evil within the night. We do not fear one another anymore, enemies abandoned when I tossed my heart away.

They say that when something traumatic happens to you, you react in a way that allows your body to withstand what is happening. My older sister says that when I was four years old a part of me snapped. She says it's not my fault, the bad man was the one to blame.

I like to describe it as a rope pulled tautly and under tension for so long that I had a choice: let it choke me or break it. So I chose to snap the rope and that part of my emotions that was tied to my heart.

There's a whisper to my left, and I part my lips, breath billowing out in front of me in a frosted cloud. The echoing call of wild animals breaks the silence of the night and I turn my head to face the direction of the forest. Part of me knows that I ought to head inside before Flora scolds me for being out too late. Dahlia would simply shake her head, a worried smile on her lips as she wraps a blanket around my shoulders to keep my warm.

As if in sync with my thoughts, the grandfather clock in the lounge room chimes. The deep hum of the midnight bell breaks the peace and I frown, fingers curling around the coin that had sat by my side this entire time. The metal is ice cold against my palm, worn edges smooth against my skin as I roll it around my fingers. The familiar sensation is soothing, the only item in my life that never leaves my side.

It is time to make a decision.

I balance the coin between my middle finger and pointer, brown eyes staring at the head on one side, twisting to look at the tails on the other. Dahlia gave this coin to me twelve years ago after she grew too angry over my lack of independence. She calls me the face of indifference, an emotionless doll that feels nothing and does nothing for herself unable to listen to the sound of her heart. Flora said it'll take time, but that was a long time ago and even her patience has worn thin.

Heads: I go to bed. (1)
Tails: I remain where I am. (2)

I blink, flicking the coin into the air. The light from the moon glances off the surface and a small smile plays on my lips as I open my hand. My eyes follow the coin, trailing it all the way until it lands in my hand and I snap my fingers closed around it. Twisting my hand I rest it against the top of my other one, releasing the coin onto the surface. I suck in my lip, feeling the slight twist in my stomach that always accompanies the moment before the reveal.

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The image of an old man's face greets me; heads.

Her plan worked, perhaps not in the way she anticipated it to go. Leaving choices up to fate finally allowed me to move beyond nothingness and my reliance on others. I'm relinquished from the perils of uncertainty that have trapped me since that man hurt me. Perhaps one day I will outgrow this need, but for now, my fate is tied to one simple action. A choice carried out without having to request assistance or help.

With a sigh, I stand, stretching my arms above my head as I roll out the aches and stiffness. I tuck the coin into my pocket, fingers lingering over the material for a moment before I turn to the door. The night calls my name, beckoning me to return to its embrace. We are one, broken but unbowed. I ignore its please, my gaze focusing on the now, my decision set in stone as I step inside and towards my bedroom.

Within my chest, I can feel my heart thump. Its beat is gentle and rhythmic, but unlike Dahlia or Flora there is no song within its depths. I do not have the luxury to allow such folly to guide my actions, and I do not need it.

I have my coin. Heads or tails?