500 Words

,,You’re disaster,” something once says. ,,Something wrong. Aren’t you?” And she has no idea how to answer that, is only rendered speechless as she slowly steps around, trail leaving behind something alike to naught. ,,Why won’t you answer?”, it pushes and she steps back, eyes blank and mouth empty. She’s forgotten how to form words. Then a laugh. An utterly despicable thing that makes her gut curl and chest tightens. She gasps. ,,But how could I expect that of you. You are, after all-“ ,,So wrong.”


19. Day Eighteen

She tries her best not to come near the paper despite the violent disaster that’s, at the moment, wrecking her life, but it calls for her and brings out something deep inside of her, something that’s almost impossible to resist. Her heart shudders as she whispers down quiet stories to the pen that carries out her words, skin itching and tears falling.
No response.


,,The world cannot be unfit.”
,,This is me.”
,,It’s me.”
,,That’s wrong.”
,,It’s me.”
,,That breathes wickedly.”
,,It’s me.”
Whose mind cannot comprehend the vivid mess beyond her feet.


,,You have to stop this,” she begs, tears wrecking her eyes and mind bellowing something unspeakable, something that cannot fit upon her lips, but oh god-
And they only look at her, something beyond capacity in their eyes, something that makes her knees shudder and heart clutter.
,,Please- Please. It’s too much, I can’t-“
,,Yes you can,” they whisper, reaching out and enveloping her hands in theirs.
,,No,” she gasps, but they only keep holding her hands, savoring the feel and breath of them, locking them somewhere tight, somewhere nothing can touch her.
,,Fix me.”


,,But there’s nothing to fix,” they say one day, after they just turned their back on the kiosk. She doesn’t answer them at the start. Only quietly keeps eating her ice cream, as does they, as they keep walking.
At some point, they reach the port. They keep walking for a bit, until she stops and sit down at the edge. They follow her.
,,There’s nothing to fix,” they repeat, as they throw out the remains of the ice out in the ocean.
,,That’s not true,” she answers, breath shuddering too slowly for them to realize.
,,How come?”, they asks, head turning and eyes looking so bright and intensively, almost too much for her to contain.
,,Because you cannot point to the world and yell at it that it’s them, that’s being wrong, whenever I cannot quite breath.”
They frown. The kind that makes her stop in her tracks, but when they softly touch her shoulder, she continues.
,,I can’t keep thinking that it’s just my surroundings, that there’s something wrong with, I can’t keep thinking that I’m right and they’re wrong-“
,,But who says there has to be a wrong and a right?”
And she shudders, because the thought has been there, but it had been too bright for her, too much for her to swallow.
,,I know. I know, I know, I know, but it’s just not that simple-“
They learn down, brow resting upon her shoulder.
,,Nothing’s simple. Especially you. That’s one of the disasters about you,” they whisper, lips brushing her bare arms at every words. She shudders.
,,But also one of your beauties. You carry stories with you. Stories that are heartbreakingly beautiful, and terrifyingly disastrous.”
She reaches up, hand carefully running through their hair.
,,I cannot fix you. Because there’s nothing to fix.”
Her eyes close, breath stuck in her throat.
,,You sure?”
They close their eyes. ,,Yeah.”

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