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.”


12. Day Eleven

,,I don’t get it,” their hands fall upon their lap in defeat, and she has to stifle a laugh at their lack of determination.
,,It’s really simple once you get it, you just need to keep trying,” she says, giggles making her voice a tad shaky. They look at her, but it’s with something that makes her skin tingle the way it does when they touch her.
,,Okay, okay… So you say I need to press it up against my palate-“
,,No, just the edge of it.”
,,And then pull out air in the space between my teeth and tongue?”
,,And then I’ll sound like an ostrich.”
,,How did you even figure this out?”, they laugh, head shaking as they proceed to follow the said instructions. Their face grimaces when they blow out air from their mouth, resulting in flapping lips and confused eyes.
The scene isn’t a first, so she almost manages to not laugh this time, the keyword being almost in that sentence.
,,I was watching TV, and then it sort of just happened?”
,,Why do you sound like you’re questioning it,” except that’s not really a question, more something alike to a statement and she blinks a bit.
,,Because I can’t remember,”, she answers and they looks at her with skeptical eyes.
,,Why would I lie about that?”, she laughs too much in their presence, but she can’t bring herself to mind. Laughing is incredibly freeing, comparing to the chaining thoughts that’s making her head a vivid mess.
,,You seem like the type that would lie about that sort of thing,” they say, leaning towards her as if inspecting her.
,,Oh, so there’s a type for that?”, she asks, eyebrow lifting and leaning back teasingly.
,,There is indeed. The world is flooding with them. They say that one in four people are that kind of person. And if you don’t know one…”, they look up at her as she slowly leans back, somehow ending up caged between their arms with her back against the ground.
,,You’re probably the one,” they finish, and she twat at their chest and laughs yet again.
,,Well I actually do know one,” she admits as they sit back at their place. She keeps lying down though, eyes caught by something entirely different.
,,Who?”, they asks, eyes curious and with a beautiful laugh in them.
,,Stars,” she whispers.


She isn’t sure she’s changing – or that she’s becoming something different, as stories always say you do. She’s probably the same, despite meeting them and befriending them and loving them. Her head still carries stories that tell disasters, and she’s not sure it’s going to be any more different than this.
But she can learn to counter it.
And maybe that’s what the stories are about too – because despite it being a small glow that’s ignited by something quick and unsure, she grabs ahold of it with both hands and ties it down. She will learn to be happy, despite the disasters within her and she will learn to be sad, despite the chaos within her – she doesn’t want to be something wrong anymore, but she doesn’t have to be something right either. She wants to breath truly.

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