Young Writers Society

Hello, hello happy New Year folks! I hope  you all are doing well so far. This might be a bit rough around the edges I edited this while very tried....

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“I saw them. I saw the bricks crack. “

Despite the slight jerk of her tense muscles, life seemed to freeze, as if to trap her in time. Her body couldn't muster an ounce of the panic that laced both her nightmares and daydreams. Rather, her fear churned in her stomach as she gave into the starting loop with a click. For such a soft sound, it seemed to shatter her skull from the inside out. The rain refused to wash away her memories as the seat belt slipped from her fingers and the outside world crept in.

“For the love of everything, Lil! I can't help you if you're speaking nonsense.” A long, weary sigh underscored Libby’s words as her grasp tightened around Lilian’s coat. “Just sit down before you fall into the deep end.”

The next moments became a blur of Lilian’s thrashing limbs as the car door whined. Even it seemed angered as she tried to pry away Libby’s grasp once again. However, this struggle was built upon mechanical chirps and clicks. All the while, the rain pooled around Lilian’s shoes, each drop digging into her skin. Every shiver seemed like a futile cry for reality to return in its full sane force.

She couldn't keep this book...She wouldn't keep it.

“You can help by letting me do this.”

Non-existent smoke stuck to her throat as soon as those words left her mouth. It bit into her unsteady being, refusing to let its teeth drawback like the fingers that clawed her shoulders long after she wrenched free and staggered into the damp air. The clatter of movement and the sudden weight of that stained bag became blurs in the corner of her mind. Even her steps felt like a ghost’s recollection of unfolding events and weak protests.

It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, it’s over... It’s.

Lilian’s world became sheets of fog-like rain as buildings morphed into shadowy shapes. In the place of her resounding numbness was a kindling anger. One fanned by shallow drags of crisp air, or at least the ones her chest clung to. Her muscles twitched under the growing rain as if it too was driven by an unexplainable haste. Still, she dragged herself through the street, her unseeing gaze stuck on the mocking glint of copper.

The heat of her blood caught up with the pounding of her heart as it burned through her. It was thick and vengeful as it pulsed through rain-soaked skin like it was trying to boil her bone dry. Even her waterlogged braid became a tepid mush against her goosebump-riddled neck. By the time her feet stopped, the world seemed to shake with an uneven gait and her knuckles were pale with an ache.

“What do I need to do to get off this sick ride? Rip this place down brick by brick? “A second spray of water bounced against the gleaming glass as she pushed the journal forward. She turned on it much like a child with an unfavored ball would. “But nature couldn't even do that, so what chance or choice do I have in this? “

Placed within hesitant footsteps and overwhelming stillness came the start of an answer. One that was shielded by her palpitating heart and compressed by her twisting stomach. Perhaps her body was set on turning those coals into a diamond whose edges would tear her from the inside out. All while those unsure footsteps drew closer.

She had no choice. She had no...

Where a forest fire once was, there were now simmering remains of anger. It was as if her mind had returned to that cold floor bathed in white light and rain, her hands searching for the next few inches in front of her. The chill finally sunk into her bones and stifled the last of her dying outburst. Instead, her legs, once strong with reckless abandon, buckled like paper folding in on itself. Silence except for the snap of footsteps coming to a stop overtook her heart as frigid water seeped into the fabric.

Time stretched into eons before a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders. A strength was found in the soft pressure that pulled her close. However, there was a twinge of apprehension at the edges of this embrace. Neither committed to keeping her grounded in the moment or dragging her onto shaking feet to face the future. Despite the comfort present in this unfinished choice, her skin bristled under the echo of sun-kissed hands. For now, her heavy breaths found no danger in the smell of bluebells.

“I want to go home. “

*****

No matter how much distance was between those old bricks and the empty road, they still lingered. Where comfort was once found in the gliding of wheels, it shifted into a grim journey—one with an unspoken third party between them, turning tense air into a gleeful omen. For now, it was contained in heated leather and passing buildings.

“I wouldn't blame you… “Lilian’s voice became a meek sound under the rain. “You know if you take me to a psych ward? “

Her gaze fell on nothing as it pierced the air, as if to find comfort in emptiness. The road seemed to drag on into oblivion. In a way, it felt more like fragmented memories of soundless nights behind the wheel—the ones that smelled of old fast food while the other slept curled up in an ill-made nest of hoodies.

“I wish I could, but I don't want to lose you. “Libby’s eyes never moved from the road. However, the concern still pierced Lilian’s heart.

Something in the edges of Libby’s eyes made her stomach churn as if unseen hands were twisting it from the inside out. They were nimble and merciless as knots tightened in her muscles. Everyone seemed to turn her into a small squirming teenager caught red-handed in her rebellious nonsense. The calm sheets of rain refused to soothe her frayed nerves or the sand in her dry throat.

She might have lost herself already…

“I can't tell which of us is being foolish here. Hell, I can't trust myself with anything right now. “

Those words lingered between them for an eternity, not quite ready to fall flat. Rather, the phrase waited to shatter like the puddles beneath them. The hiss of water replaced the drum line that was her heart and tamed the heat in her veins—despite this, Lilian’s tired shoulders refused to ease her bunched muscles. Though that seemed a shared sentiment between Libby’s stone-like posture and the colour fleeing her knuckles.

“I can fix it; I can fix it. No, we can fix it. That's what we've always done. “What little colour remained in Libby’s grip hid behind the steering wheel. “After all, I know what it is like to only have the empty space someone left behind to yell at… “

Even if her voice never met the words, her many masks were meant to fill that space.

Comforts turned to ashes on her tongue, thick and black as Libby’s voice died out. In its place was a bitter breath as shaky as her hands wrapped around the wheel. The cold threatened to turn them both into winter’s first frost. unbearably thin and breakable.

“You promise?”

“Of course…”

A twitch formed under Lilian’s skin as if to remind her that she was alive. It drove her fingers to draw closer, grasping at an embrace not yet possible. Even while reality clung to liminal fragments of common sense, her heart sank into the depth of her uneasy stomach. There was some long-restrained sadness stirring into anger within Libby’s bone-breaking tension. Her own ghosts that moved around without care nor rest played out behind her watchful gaze.

Perhaps she couldn't ease everything, but she could return the grip that held her upright.

However, before Lilian’s lumbering muscles could find their last traces of tenderness, spools of spider web-like light split the drab concrete. Although it was a feeble streak of dying colour, it threatened to drag her down with it. The air within her lungs seemed to evaporate under the thin neon before them, like remnants of a pale pink bloodbath. Amidst her closing throat and pounding heart, a voice echoed throughout her nerves in a familiar thrum.

“Are you going to work with me, or do I need to flash a neon sign in your face?”

Even the wheels seemed to mock her as they slowed, before her body could pull away or thrash about. There in the mid-afternoon sun sat the shadow of Rhode Island’s nightlife with sleek obsidian edges commanding her gaze. It was a sword-like palace of a place coated in sweet syrups and the burn of high-end boozes of all which tickled Lilian’s throat on thought alone. Drunken chatter was lost over the ground, shaking bass filled her ears despite the silence. The grayed-out windows seemed to glow from the inside, as its neon crown filtered through the glass.

The sign with its stilled movements clawed through the sky. Dimmed roots fell on the roof before it twisted upward into a monstrous apple tree. Its leaves were made from magenta, save for the tubing that curved to a single crimson fruit. One watched by a serpent slipping between branches that flashed in and out of existence. Memories of cold metal and split emeralds rendered the words below into gibberish despite their bold declaration. Eve’s Paradiso: Live Music and Bar.

The tension in her tired arms shifted; it raced toward her churning stomach. Slipping between knots and uneasy breath. Every shallow drag of air seemed to free fall before rising again in a frenzied laugh, as if the edges of panic and delusion were merged completely. What was at first relief turned into a hollow sound more akin to a cry than anything. A bitter, strangled cry underneath Libby's returned gaze. Gold threatened to melt her like wax wings in the sun.

" Ego and Id, huh? Lilian's voice was an empty husk to her ears." At what point do I have to give into the joke?"

In place of the once warm look was now a grave stare pinning her place. Anger simmered at the edges of her stare, hiding the gold in a mask of confused brown. Questions formed on her pale lips and between raised brows. The shroud of neon was long forgotten in favor of last night's half-finished discussion.

"Don't you dare look at me like that, Libs. Don't!"

"How else am I meant to look at you? You're talking nonsense again. "

Lilian's fingers wound around each other, twisting as if to free the pent-up nerves from her skin. However, the more her mind began to drift, guilt wove itself through the movements like thread between hooks. Even when cafes and towering duplexes filled her vision, their gazes refused to meet in the mirror.

" It's not like that. Perhaps I just have to bend my logic a bit. You know, adapt, play the part they want."

" Perhaps you need to get rid of your misplaced anger. This book, the bar, it isn't some sick running joke,” Libby paused as car wheels slowed and home crept closer. " Lilian, it's over. There's no bending or changing. All you can do is move on and if anyone is giving trouble, I will straighten them out, like always."

Something told her it wasn't that cut and dry unless she could straighten out ghosts or the universe.

" It doesn't feel finished. It feels like the start of something or like I am missing something. The world feels wrong, almost supernaturally so."

The hum of the engine died into a whimper, allowing the rain to take its place. A part of her wanted the wheels to keep rolling for an excuse to stew in silence. Where comfort once lingered was bunched up shoulders and the desperate tug of the seatbelt. Her eyes darted between the soaked concrete and the blur of Libby's hands.

She should spill her guts. There was no book, no voices to taunt her, yet it might keep going. Then what, watch the worry plastered on her face every day and waste what little leeway she had gotten? In the end, better this than whatever angry freak might have been waiting for her inside...

Fingertips brushed her skin, holding the same weary softness as it had before. For a microsecond, scenes of coy glances turning into timid embraces played in her mind. Although the act of slipping her hands into Libby's open palms felt more like muscle memory, there was a stark contrast. One rooted in a gentle squeeze and soundless support rather than the cooing of naïve lovebirds.

" Of course it does. Six years is more than a fling, chunks of your life were uprooted because someone got cold feet. You're missing something because someone is missing and your brain is going into overdrive grieving it. "

“It was easier with you.”

In the wake of this newfound stillness, the scent of black roses swayed like an unsure pendulum. The knots in her stomach took up the lost movement and began to wonder. Worry coated her tongue like the last drags of herbal tea. Her frayed nerves formed a lump in her throat that drowned her breath in the bitter taste. All the rain tapped the windows with its heavy touch.

" Well, not being a two-faced coward helped. However, it's often easier to take a step back rather than break what you've built. " A softer look washed over Libby’s features." I've always been by your side. No one will change that."

" Would you stay even if the world gets strange and almost inexpiable? "

Perhaps dipping her toes into the water was best for now.

A sigh lightened the still air between them. However, the sound shifted into a tired laugh before it returned to the silence.

" Someone as stubborn as you should know the answer."

Those words were capped off with one final squeeze, as if checking that she was still there. When the pressure of a hand on her own faded, Libby's grasp floated towards the seatbelt. Instead of keeping herself upright, the click now freed her from an undecided prison.

" Now, get out before I take a longer look at your sad little face and change my mind."

Laughter pushed against the lump in her throat, bubbles of twisting energy. Lilian's hand pressed against buttons and locks as if to still the time slipping from her fingers. Their touch was hesitant and prolonged as the door gave out a whine. Rain rushed to dot the interior in a slight polish.

" So, you chose to cheer me up by giving me high school flashbacks? Ow! "

Cold water seeped through her shoes and played on her skin. The whispers of chills traced her spine as if to push her through the door and into an unknown lion's den. A slight shake worked through her when the car gave up the last inches of her soaked coat. However, its grasp refused to leave with empty hands. Even as the door cut off the moment with a thud, the universe mocked her. Smeared looping ink gleamed off of the crumpled bristle board.

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The lobby was a ghost town so empty that not even the ghosts would stay. A sense of hollowness buzzed in Lilian’s bones as the car became a dot against streaky windows. Her heart, although calm in its patter, consumed her being. It took the place of footsteps or the squeal of rain-soaked umbrellas folding in on themselves. Rather, it was the stage for the sudden heft on her eyelids like they were admitting defeat.

Every inch of her wanted this to be over. It should’ve been over. She would have to face the outcome, regardless. Either she was going to be as free as a bird or a canary in a coal mine.

Goosebumps snuck out of her coat as if they were trying to balance herself in case the railing failed. Her nails dug into scrapes and scratches against the steel, the chill pinning her to the stairs. The echo of her footsteps bounced off the ill-painted walls. Instead of a muffled snap, they were the dying groans of heavy limbs dragging themselves across a finishing line.

What’s the worst that could have happened without the book?

Memories of sun-kissed hands slashed through the vacant stairwells. Their fingers curled against her skin as if to crush loose vocal cords and tense muscles. Although damp fabric stuck to her with every spared glance, sweat pricked at her on-end hair. It coated her brow in a silvery sheen as it, too, was repulsed by the growing heat.

Still, there was something depictive within the mild heat as it wrapped around her joints. An omen of sorts as it started to smoulder against her skin and consumed the damp air, leaving a sense of mugginess in its wake. Whatever was attempting to bake her from the inside shared a stubborn streak to equal her own, as the oppressive warmth thickened.

No matter how unlikely it would be, perhaps her problems could have been as mundane as complaining about the busted boiler.

By the time she was leaning on her door, the keys refusing to work with her slick hands; it had become an inferno. Albeit a tad delayed one, it seemed as her eyes darted towards the stairs she had just conquered, as if the flames were going to appear out of either. However, the strange hunch that played out in her mind was drawn away and onto the task at hand. Where the natural light peaked from the threshold came the start of a shadow.

It was at first the distorted mass of gray that blended furniture into passing cars. Something both shapeless and elongated until it shifted. Not with few meagre rays of the sun but with the prim click of dress shoes trying to find a comfortable stature. A sound among the eerie silence that was unmistakable, almost world-shattering in its repetition. Each tap seemed like the start of the dance, growing more impatient as her keys slid against one another. Her breath seemed to shorten as if attempting a premature getaway.

The walls were thin, that’s all just thin walls odds b-

Gold spilled across the floor in plumes of short-lived light. Its curved edges stopped at her feet as if to stare her down with a warning, unable to be spoken. The heat seemed to swell along with the sparse remnants of the glimmer as her key surrendered. A sound somewhere between a whine and the harsh edge of a panicked inhale left her dry throat. Her nerves retreated from the taste of unseen ash and the suffocating stench of smoke. Even when the key slid into the lock, her muscles wanted to wrench away with every scolding brush of metal.

No, No, No, God no...

A sob mixed with choked gasps as her shaking hands twisted the key. Her knuckles pressed against the doorknob, allowing a deep, desperate burn into her skin. If it wasn’t for the door’s steady presence, the ground would meet her crumpling form long before the click. The creek of the hinges was like a knife against the wall as what should have been home came into focus. A haze hung in the corners of the room, the smell of smoke being overpowered by warm hints of cinnamon and the cloying scent of apples.

For just a second, a bizarre giggle fought to join the tapping of well-kept shoes against the floor. However, its fight would be fruitless, as a gaze carved into obsidian pierced her own. A strange amusement flooded the ink-like depths of the Man’s eyes, one that bordered on recklessly sharp.

In a way, it seemed to melt into sculpture - Esquejawline and tailored folds of the silk suit that made him up. Despite the refined surface of a snake-like red thread and the delicate strands of gold that shone from his ring finger, something inhuman stirred. It oozed from regal but too wide shoulders as if their original purpose was stolen long ago; or how the ceiling seemed to bow to him.

Lilian’s vision began to shrink, but never wavered as she stumbled back. Bile lingered on the edge of her tongue in place of cries. The world seemed to spin as a pair of pouted lips spoke words lost to the beat of her heart. Her arms fell into limp tremors, unsure if they should curl into themselves or be outstretched in a feeble attempt at safety. The still air was beaten away by a grandiose flourish from gloved hands. It was an elegant, almost practiced movement that contrasted with the soft arch of his furrowed brows.

No, No, No...

The inferno reached its fever pitch while the floorboards let out a suffering groan. Energy hummed beneath her feet before pillars of thick smoke rose to greet her. Hungry tongues of flame promised to rip away the floor and send her into a free fall. Their gilded peaks were the sole caring witness as she plummeted to whatever hell awaited her. No fearful sound threatened to leave her, nor did her eyes refuse to meet his. eyes. Rather, her last sight was so faint that it could be a mere dream. Poised on his finger was a single taut string that seemed to curve and flow with every small adjustment or movement.

Even with the growing halo of heat and flickering gold, that string pulsed with a soft crimson. It seemed more like a heart pushing out blood than any real thing. Amidst the smoke that strangled her senses came a low baritone voice that shook her bones.

“Be not afraid. “