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 Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 12:20 am
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 5:24 pm
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Maybe if this had been some hazy rom-com and Fiona were as naive as she looked, she wouldn't have noticed the snow falling around them. But the reality was that underneath her snow jacket and boots, she wore only a flimsy nightgown that by no means offered protection against the cold. And what about Nick? He never seemed to wear a jacket, even though probably the last thing he needed was to get sick again. She said nothing to him, though, unable to offer any consoling words - because there were none. All she could do was lean forward and hug him, hoping that the gesture and the sharing of warmth might mean at least something.
Of course she knew that Nick wouldn't be able to sleep, neither would she, and that he wouldn't want to go to school. In a life that had become meaningless, school meant absolutely nothing. Hearing the words from Nick himself broke her heart all over again anyway, though.
She wished she could offer him something, something to help him realize there was at least a little bit of joy left in the world. As a child, that probably would have meant writing notes of encouragement and misspelled words, or endless offers of sleepovers and cherished toys. Or maybe something to sketch with; but with the dismantling of the swing where would he even go to sketch in the first place? Every single time she'd seen that sketchbook, until yesterday of course, Nick had been holding it as he sat on the swing. And then closing it as she came near. Now, it was in her room as a tangible representation of the feelings he didn't show.
Nick, Fiona said to him, thinking hard about the words she was choosing, Would you ... like to come over?
There. She had said it. And now the words hung in the air, but how would he react?
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 5:43 pm
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 9:39 pm
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Fiona took on the facial expression of a wounded puppy when Nick talked to her as though her suggestion was crazy and completely illogical, slightly hurt. Oh, she shouldn't have been that careless to ask him. Of course she should have known that he...
"... would like to join you in going ..."
Fiona looked up at him, since even though he was scrawny and weak and pale he was actually taller than she was. There was a little bit of confusion in the fact that he had misled her a little bit, and then happiness that he had accepted; glinting there like the two different colors of her eyes.
She said nothing more to him as she took his hand gently in hers and led him back to her house, wondering: how would she get past her parents? Had it maybe only been sheer luck that she'd been able to slip out of the house completely undetected? All she knew was that she hoped Lady Luck was smiling down upon her as she approached the front door.
Fiona gently squeezed Nick's hand as she opened the front door as silently as she possibly could, and then led him inside. If not for Dead Park, couldn't Lady Luck spare her just for these few minutes?
"Nick, do you want to sleep over at my house?"
"Fiona, honey, we should talk to his father first."
"I got some new toys! We could play with them."
"Fiona..."
Sometimes she used to cry for him, angry at Lady Luck and at fate for turning her friend into a living zombie. Maybe if he stayed over with her, she could help him heal. Even if it took years.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 10:23 pm
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Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2013 1:24 am
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The sound of the front door closing behind them was like the sound of ten jets taking off next to her, and even her own heartbeat was much too loud for her suddenly hypersensitive ears. Fiona almost felt the need to tiptoe through the dark house, hoping against hope her parents were the heavy sleepers she always assumed they were.
"Hush, Fiona. Daddy's asleep..."
Hmph, then three-year-old Fiona thought. There aren't any fun quiet games, you know. It's just the rules that you have to be as noisy as possible.
But she was always safe in her room.
She still held Nick's hand as they finally approached her room and went in, safe now in the room where Fiona used to keep all of her toys and where they sometimes used to build fortresses as children.
"We have to fight against the enemy! Battle stations!"
Of course she remembered. The memories were so close to her.
But, yes, it was true that her room had indeed changed from the time they were children. The army of toys was now down to only a few on the shelves, the curtains gone from a princess pink to a deep maroon. A lot of things had changed over the years.
Fiona looked over at Nick then as he finished inspecting her room, and saw the snow melting on him and practically soaking him through. Worried, she let go of his hand and went through a drawer, locating a new shirt for him. It was a shirt that would be oversized on him if it was already oversized on her, but it was at least dry. And it wasn't like it was neon pink, either; it was an old and slightly distressed tee.
She handed it to him, and then began to inspect her nightgown for snow. Oh, was she starting to feel tired now?
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 12:30 am
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Nicholas could remember the fortress battles they had, all of her toys used in such fun and young destruction. Those were the good old days... Yup... When they were actually happy....
He slowly took one of the army men on her shelf, inspecting it as the memories rushed through his head. "Battle... stations..." He murmured, loud enough to slightly pass through Fiona's ear.
Nick was then handed a shirt, noticing how she let go of his hand and saw she was going though a drawer. It was to substitute his own drenched shirt, helping stay warmer and remove the risk of hypothermia. "Thank you." He said to her, taking off the shirt right there and there, handing it to Fiona. "Please place this in the restroom to dry so it doesn't get your floor wet." He simply said, then putting on the dry shirt without a word.
"Your eyes. I deduce that weariness and fatigue of the day is coming down on you, increasing you chance of passing out by 76%." He told her, closely face to face as his blank, dull eye looked peered into her own mixed ones. He was so close their lips were almost touching again. |
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Posted: Sun Aug 18, 2013 1:35 am
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Battle stations.
Fiona only barely heard the two murmured words as Nicholas continued to inspect her room, and she looked for the shirt. She looked briefly up at him when he spoke, seeing him holding one of their old army guys that there used to be many more of. Unfortunately, many had met their demise through either the vacuum, the garbage disposal or the short term memory of a very young child at play. The army guy that Nick held was one of the few survivors.
How things have changed...
Fiona handed Nick the shirt after that, and took the drenched one. She decided, too, that she should put her jacket and her snow boots in the bathroom while she was there. They were wet as well, and it wasn't a very pleasant feeling to be keeping them on.
Before she left, though, she realized once again just how observant Nick really was. And at least he was talking in percentages again - the short period of time where he hadn't had scared her pretty badly. His voice was always emotionless, but it had been that much more so during those past few minutes (an hour, maybe?) and there was close to nothing she could do. She didn't want to be this helpless.
She looked at him as he moved closer to her, fatigue only a glimmer behind her true emotions. She had watched him turn from a happy child into the shell he was now and had been for years, and there had always been so precious little that she could do for him. No amount of notes, shared toys or sleepover parties could take away the pain of losing his mother, and now Dead Park. Or so it seemed, because even though it didn't show in his lifeless eyes he loved her. She was no replacement, but he loved her. She loved him in return, and kissed him when they were close enough.
She looked into his eyes again when she pulled away a moment later.
I love you, she whispered.
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Posted: Thu Aug 22, 2013 6:31 pm
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Posted: Thu Aug 29, 2013 2:23 am
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(Writer's block sucks.)
Fiona ran after Nick in her wedding dress, silently cursing at and tripping over the long tulle as she did. Why was he running away?
"Come back!"
She shouted at him as she began to catch up, but for some reason that only made him run faster. He was faster and more agile than she, but there was going to be no doubt that he heard her. As a very young child, one of Fiona's main assets was her voice. She shouted again:
"Stop running!"
She ran towards him, through the hallway, turning into the kitchen and then dashing through the dining room. She ran and she panted, wishing Nick wouldn't have to be this difficult about saying a simple three words. Didn't he know that it was just the rules, that it was just something Mommies and Daddies were supposed to say? Oh, Nick. Did he really have to go and hide?
"Fiona, I don't think Nicholas wants to play house right now... why don't you play with your new Lego's, instead?"
"In my wedding dress?" Three-year-old Fiona, stressed out from the chase and too many falls due to the long tulle, began to cry. It just wasn't fair! Her mother saw the tears, saw the trembling of her daughter's lip, and bent down to hug her. But Nick, who had been hiding in the next room, appeared just then. "I'm sorry, Fiona," he murmured to her as he approached. Then, he shyly held something out to her: a flower he had picked from the vase that stood in the living room. It's the thought that counts, after all. A beaming Fiona accepted it, and both of the two children's mothers gave each other a knowing look. Yes, they made a cute couple indeed.
She touched him gently on the shoulder as he pulled away, and looked again into his eyes. Then, she walked away.
Fiona kept the flower until it had died, knowing such a gift was something to be treasured. Even if it was just a flower, it represented a memory that she liked to hold on to. You see, the rules were that if a boy gives a girl a flower, he loves her.
But there was another significance, too. Even after the flower had died, Fiona liked to think about it. Especially after the accident, when Nick's life was suddenly drained. Revisiting memories meant Nick wasn't completely taken from her. That he hadn't left completely, not yet.
Walking as quietly as she possibly could, Fiona came back just then from the restroom down the hall. She had deposited Nick's shirt, as well as the jacket and boots she had been wearing. Somehow and miraculously, her nightgown had been spared. The off-white, knee length dress was actually surprisingly dry even despite the weather outside. Or maybe the snow was just a little harder to see, given the color.
The plan?
As Fiona contemplated what the plan was, she walked over and sat down next to Nick on the bed. Usually, when they used to have sleepovers they would bring Nick a sleeping bag and some extra pillows or blankets from around the house. This time, though, it was out of the question because going to get those things was going to be too much of a noisy process. In between the rustling of the sleeping bag, the sound of the closet door opening to retrieve the extra blankets, there was just no way.
Fiona knew what the logical answer was, but it almost made her blush.
We can both sleep here, she whispered to him. She had no idea what his reaction would be, or if he would even want to sleep in the first place. To be honest, even though her brain was trying to tell her it was tired she wasn't completely sure she wanted to go to sleep either. Just like old times: bedtime was just no fun. They never wanted to sleep and didn't get much of it, but if their parents were to come in and check on them they always pretended they were already sound asleep.
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Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2014 1:12 am
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(time skip)
After the demolition of Dead Park, it seemed everything was lost. There was no place to go, neither for Nick nor Fiona. They still snuck out sometimes, though, to remember and to mourn. "I need it back," he would say. But they could only shake their heads, for like his mother, no amount of love or prayer could bring these things back.
Eventually, and with the permission of Nick's father, Fiona's parents would take the two teenagers out of state. To take their minds off of what had happened. But they could never forget what happened. It was the unspoken vow between them, they must never forget.
As the years passed, things began to change. The new library was built, high school graduation drew near. Nick's father accepted a job closer to home, and their relationship finally began to flourish. Where he hadn't had time before, he was able to spend time with his son. Even so, the walls he had built so long ago still stood. His eyes remained just as dead as the memory of the swing set. Still, Fiona loved him, and hoped it might one day help him heal.
It was spring now. The snow had melted, the birds chirped outside, and the sun shone brightly through the classroom windows. Fiona rested her cheek in the palm of her hand as she lazily took notes, her mind elsewhere. It just didn't seem right to waste a day as beautiful as this learning trigonometry.
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Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 11:24 pm
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Nicholas was in the back of the class, of course not paying attention since he's known how to do trig since he was just fifteen. Nick matured over the years though. He grew taller and more handsome, color coming back to his face. However, his expression remained the same as it did all those years ago, lifeless and monotone. He could feel even more emotions now, even blush if you looked close enough, but not once has a smile come to his face.
While Nicholas wasn't paying attention, it didn't mean he wasn't doing anything. What has stayed with him was is love or drawing. His skills have blown through the rood, even better than how he was before. He still drew his emotions, but more of them were pleasant, before always being cold and sad because of the events that took place all those years ago.
However, now there were two memories that will never go away. The memory of his mother... and the memory of his second home... Dead Park...
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Posted: Thu Jun 19, 2014 11:43 pm
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The years had changed Fiona into a beautiful young woman as well. She had grown taller and had also developed an hourglass frame. While she was still shy and standoffish towards most of her classmates, she still occasionally had problems with unwanted flirtation. The boy who had tried to get with her when she was a sophomore was long gone. But there were others who might stare at her for a bit too long or in a particular way, as a man might look at an oasis in the middle of the desert. Her father saw to it that they didn't do anything more than that. After all, she was already taken.
Fiona wished she was somewhere else now. Anywhere else. She found herself beginning to doodle in the margins of her notebook, drawing silly things like hearts and strawberries and swirls as the teacher lectured on. She knew Nick would probably be drawing too, since he had known trig for years now. He still didn't really let her look at his current drawings, but she knew how much he had improved. He was very talented and yet didn't accept compliments. Not with enthusiasm, but of course that was to be expected. She still had the old sketchbook, hidden safely in her room. Sometimes she looked in it and remembered the first time she had seen these drawings. They were the last drawings from the old swing set, which made her cherish it even more. It still hurt to know they hadn't been able to save Dead Park. Even after two years, she was still too stubborn to set foot in the new library. If she did, she knew she would be mapping out where everything used to be. It would feel too much like a betrayal.
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