Lambent Lavender Lights| lambent

A/N: Please be aware that there are themes of mental health and self harm here! this is a rough draft that I (sorta) rushed through by the end, but all critiques (including grammatical/spelling ones) are welcome. (Also, as a general rule of thumb when reviewing---not just this piece, but any other piece in general, please try to use encouraging and critical words rather than hateful and personalized ones as they are counterproductive to the spirit of reviewing.)

lambent (adjective)
ˈlam-bənt
: softly bright or radiant; flickering

i. lavender

I got off work late again. The manager miscounted the cash in the register to be $5 short and was blaming me for stealing. That $5 bill was in his hand, and he forgot to count it.

The walk home was filled with noises of cars driving by and people chattering. My footsteps drowned in the business of the city. Today was just like any other day.

I opened the door to my apartment to be greeted with a dark and dusty room. It's been 2 weeks since I last cleaned it, but I was too lazy to clean this week. Maybe next week. I headed straight for the bed—but only after changing into my pajamas; my sheets were cleaned just a couple days ago, so I didn't want to dirty them.

I live alone. I left for the big city at the age of sixteen. I got a part time job and I'm doing fine. I think.

I'm fine.

Mom calls occasionally to check up on me, asking if I needed any more money. I always declined since I knew how hard my family’s been doing financially. I didn't want to be a burden on them. At least, any more than I already was.

I’m not alone though. I have something to take care of. It's a plant. It's a lavender plant. I've been having trouble falling asleep recently, and I heard somewhere that lavender helps you relax. Technically, they said lavender oil, but what difference is there really? Not much. I presume. Anyways, I watered it today according to instructions on the internet.

I opened the window to let some fresh air in and immediately got hit by the rain. I decided to just leave it as is and snuggled up with my blanket and pillow. The smell of rain filled the apartment. It was a cozy smell, especially when it mixed with the fragrance of the lavender. My mind slowly relaxed as I inhaled it in.

The ceiling started to blur as drowsiness hazed in. My eyelids grew heavy and my consciousness flickered in and out.

In and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and in and... out.

Dreams are my escape. I sometimes dream the same things. Lately, there's been a recurring dream I've been having. I keep seeing this guy. I don't know what his name is. I don't even know what his face looks like. All I can see is his body. He always wears some sort of hat or beanie that makes it hard to see his eyes. He would sometimes appear at random places, like in the convenience store or in the school gymnasium.

At first, I was scared. However, I began to feel that he didn’t pose any harm and I eventually got used to his presence, even curious at times. But, before I’d be able to approach him, he’d always disappear into thin air.

He appeared in my dreams again. This time, it was in a bathroom. As you could imagine, it was really awkward. Luckily, I think I was just there to wash my hands. They were covered in mud for some reason.

“Hey,” he said.

I was startled by his voice. He’s never hung around this long before, let alone spoke to me. His voice was much gentler than I thought.

“Aren’t you curious as to why I keep appearing in your dreams?”

I stayed silent. As much as I have grown used to him, it was still uncomfortable to have a stranger talk to me. Especially when he’s been stalking me. Actually, does this even count as stalking? When someone’s appearing in my dreams? Aren’t I the stalker instead since I keep thinking of him and he appears in my dreams? Who even is he? I don’t think I’ve seen him outside of these dreams before. I can’t even say for sure though, since his face is always too far away to see properly. Actually, he’s really close right now.

He was sitting on top of the countertop, dangling his legs as he stared at me washing my hands. I stared back up to see two sparkling emerald green eyes that were shrouded in dark brunet hair. He leaned in, getting close to my ear, and I could feel them blush red from the sound of his breathing. I could hear him inhale, just to whisper something to me. I couldn’t understand what he was saying because it was becoming mumbly. In fact, they sounded less like words and more like beep beep beep…

I reached my hand out to turn off the alarm on my phone. I had woken up.

ii. school

When I woke up, my entire body was freezing cold. The rain had crept in throughout my apartment while I was asleep. I got up and quickly closed the window and turned on the heater. I live in a studio apartment, so even though the rain made every crevice of this place piercingly cold, it warmed up just as quickly.

Now that my mind was wide awake, I grabbed my breakfast of banana and untoasted bread from the pantry. It was better than nothing. It was also 6 AM, so I went back to sleep for another hour after eating.

After getting ready for school, I checked out the window to see if it was still raining. It was. So, I grabbed an umbrella and headed out the door. As soon as I opened the door, I was hit by the cold foggy air. The streets were wet and I didn’t consider putting boots on, so my socks were soaking as I trudged my way to school.

My school is up a small hill, but it doesn’t feel very small to my legs. The wind was penetrating my clothes and seeping into my bones, while the slope of the hill was working muscles in my calves that I didn’t even know were there. Sure, this was my second year in this high school, but that doesn’t mean I’m used to this.

I made it to school in time—and quite early even. I was the only one in the classroom except for one other person: Neila. She transferred during junior year, just like me. However, unlike me, her grades are always top of the class. Meanwhile, I’m swimming as hard as possible, swamped by assignments, to keep my head afloat. At least I have an excuse that I need to work in the evenings. Right?

Students slowly showed up, with the majority of them arriving via the school bus. I sat quietly in the corner of the room, reading a bunch of emails I got from colleges. They have been bombarding me recently since it was application season. I haven’t chosen where to go yet. Honestly, I haven’t even decided if I want to go. Is college worth it? Is all that stress just to get an expensive diploma worth it? Is life… worth it? The bell rang before my thoughts could wander any further.

It’s lunchtime. We’re having pizza Fridays. But the pizza is cold. It’s not left-out-for-too-long cold; it’s microwaved-but-not-properly cold. I think I just used a semicolon correctly for the first time in my life. After lunch, I had a free period. But the school counselors reserved those times for advising. Partly for my college applications, but also because I was diagnosed with depression last quarter.

After I finished my cold pizza, I sat quietly in the corner of the cafeteria, scrolling through my phone. Were we supposed to have them? Technically no. Did anyone care? Absolutely not.

“So, how have things been going recently?” the school counselor asked. She had an authoritative yet gentle tone in her voice.

“It’s been… fine. I’ve just been having a lot on my plate.” I said. I haven’t told her that I had a part-time job. I haven’t told anyone that. Not even my parents. I forged their signature so I could work. If I told the counselor, she would’ve definitely ratted it out to my mom, and my mom would force me to quit. I didn’t want that.

“Well, it’s something everyone goes through. How are applications going?”

“I’ve been doing okay. Although, there haven’t been many places I could apply to because of my grades. I’ve been struggling to write my essay, though.”

“Well, how about we take a look at what you’ve written so far? Also, don’t worry. It’s normal to worry over every little thing during this time of year. But you’re doing great. Just keep working hard and I’m sure some college will see you for who you are.”

See me for who I am… I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good thing. If anybody saw me for who I was, they would cut all ties with me immediately.

iii. draft

I don’t like my hometown. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and all the rose-tinted memories I carry so dearly. My hometown, Himawari, is a small town that’s an hour north of Lavender City. The fields are filled with barley and the mountains are covered in evergreens. But it’s so boring. Growing up, I went to a small school. It had less than 50 students total throughout grades 1 to 6. Because of that, everyone knew everyone. While it was nice to have such a strongly tight knit community, that meant rumors travelled just as fast. It felt like there was no privacy.

My decision to move to Lavender City at the age of 16 was a hard one. I had to give up my friends and family and go to a place that I was unfamiliar with. However, it was also a decision that had I done it again, I would choose to do so without hesitation over a hundred times. I’ve gotten to experience a world eons bigger than my small hometown of less than 10,000. The first month I was there, everything was exciting. The density, the business, and the endless lights that never sleep, they were all things that I had never seen before. It was hard to adjust, but it was also easy to adjust.

Now that I’ve experienced a world so much bigger than my previous one, I have gotten curious as to how big the world really is. Even just an hour away from my hometown is a giant city illuminated by a sea of light, filled to the brim with people from all walks of life. Imagine what it would be like if I were to move to an actually large city.

Humans are social animals and our society grows just like we do. We go from our family when we’re born to friends from the neighborhood in kindergarten, to friends by the street in elementary school, to friends from the district in high school. Then, in University, our society grows even bigger, with friends from all over the country, and even the world.

So, while I have experienced my very own society grow exponentially, I still believe that there is still a vast world to explore. Sure, change isn’t easy. It comes with adjustment, isolation, and even discrimination. However, I’ve been doing fine. Fine. And, now that I’ve experienced life outside the pond, I can’t go back.

I don’t like my hometown. Does that mean I hate it? No. It will still always be my hometown. Somewhere that I grew up in. Somewhere that I frolicked through the grass. Somewhere that my childhood remains. However, that is all it will remain to be. Someday, I might go back. Who knows? However, I would still like to try, if possible, to live outside the pond as long as possible. Search for a lake, then a river, then an ocean. I want to experience the vastness of the Ocean.

“So… what do you think?” I asked, nervously.

“This is pretty good! I didn’t know you had it in you to write something like this.” She replied, nodding her head in approval.

“Thank you.”

“Ooh, I do see some points that we can improve here.” She said, her eyes lighting up. “I really like the symmetry here of the first and last paragraphs starting with the same sentence. But, in between those paragraphs, it does seem that these points are a bit repetitive. I can sort of see how you were trying to stretch out the word count to make it reach the requirement. I see some examples you have here that you can maybe expand on. Did you get all that?”

No, I didn’t. “Yes, I did.” I lied.

“Good. There’s one more thing I want to point out, though. While I can see your personality and interest shine all throughout this essay, I still can’t tell what your major or dream is. Have you decided on one yet?”

“No… not really.”

“Well, how about sociology? You mentioned society a couple of times in this essay and this whole story of having a bigger and bigger social circle can be a really good background to why you want to major in it.”

I wasn’t able to get much counseling, like I was supposed to, but that was still a productive counseling session nonetheless. We ended up spending the entire session talking about my essay and I think I was able to get my story straightened out. However, I wasn’t even sure if I’ll be submitting this. I’m still unsure. Am I going to college? Is that something I can do? As I sunk deep into my own thoughts, I couldn’t see the massive pile of clay pots in front of me, nor the sound of a teacher yelling at me to look out.

“Hey, are you okay?” Mr. Botan, the biology teacher, asked. Yes, his name was Botan. We also have Mrs. Angle who teaches trigonometry, Mr. Rambles who teaches public speaking, and Mr. Potter who is not a wizard and instead teaches pottery. Oh, sorry, I’m rambling off again, which ironically, Mr. Ramble never does. What was happening? Right, clay and collision.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry.” I said, getting myself off the ground, just to see a pile of mud and broken pots on the ground.

“Don’t worry, they were going to be disposed of anyways. We got a new batch of pots since, like, half of these were starting to show cracks. You should wash up in the bathroom, though. It seems like you got a lot of mud on your shirt.” He said, pointing at my clothes. He was right. I decided to wear a white shirt today, for some dumb reason, and it was now covered in mud. I had gym clothes back in my locker, but they hadn’t been washed for a week. I made my way to the bathroom.

Luckily, the bathroom was empty. I took my shirt off and started rinsing it under the sink to try and clean it, but the mud was just getting smeared all over the shirt. Before I could do anything else, I heard laughter from down the hall. It was coming closer.

I hid in a bathroom stall and closed the stall door just as the bathroom door opened. There was no way I was going to let anyone see me half naked with a shirt covered in mud stains. Luckily, they seemed to be here just to use the bathroom mirror.

“Bro, I swear, if Micheal does that to you one more time, I will absolutely kill him!” A voice said.

“I know, like who does something like that?” Another voice replied.

Suddenly, I was way more interested in who Michael is and why he deserved to die way more than my dirty shirt. I leaned in towards the stall door to hear them clearer.

“Are you enjoying listening in on the conversation?” Another another voice said.

It was from behind me.

iv. extraordinary

“AAH!” I screamed, slamming hard into the stall door. I turned around to see the guy from my dreams. But this time, he had white hair. I knew that it was him, though. He looked identical to the guy that I saw in my dream this morning.

“Huh? What was that?” A voice said from outside.

Crap. I am so busted. I was prepared to have my social life ruined once this door opened, but the guy was just laughing hysterically.

“Pffahahaha, did I scare you that bad? I’m sorry haha.” He said, recollecting himself. “Oh wait, it’ll be a big problem if those two see me.” He continued, dropping his smile and speaking in a serious tone.

He spoke some voodoo incantation under his breath and then snapped his fingers. The footsteps came to a halt, and I could hear a voice saying, “That was probably just the wind.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” The other voice said.

And with that, the bathroom door opened, footsteps audible with each step becoming fainter than the last.

“Phew, they’re gone.” The guy said.

“What… just happened?”

“Oh, I entranced them. Just a little bit of magic I suppose.”

Huh? What? Magic? What? Huh? What? I think I just said what three times, but what?

“Oh, I still haven’t properly introduced myself. Hi! My name is Null. You probably recognize me from your dreams, except I actually have cool white hair in-person and not some boring brown hair.” Null said, staring deep into my eyes.

I stared back, discovering myself slightly lost in his emerald green eyes. It was almost… hypnotizing.

“Hey!” He snapped.

“I… I’m sorry.”

“I know I’m handsome, but jeez, don’t let your guard down in front of a ghost like that.” He boasted, combing his hair back with his right hand and trying his best to give a smug grin. It looked more like an awkward smile. A kinda cool smi-

“That’s cool.” I replied, getting ready to leave. Leave both this place, and where my mind was going to.

“Hey, wait! Where are you going? I still have something to tell you!” Null said. But I didn’t stop. I don’t know when, but I heard the bell ring. I couldn’t afford to be late to class. There was a quiz.

I decided to just deal with the mud later and put my jacket on even though the heaters were running the entire day. I managed to make it through the rest of the day without anyone noticing, but I was sweating profusely. It was a good thing I brought deodorant.

v. call

“That’ll be $15.76. Will that be cash or card?”

“Card, please.”

“Alright, please tap here. Thank you for shopping with us, come again soon!”

“Hey, do you guys have any of this in cherry flavor?”

“I’m not so sure about that… I can’t help check if we have any in stock! I’ll be right back.”

I lied. I headed through the door that said ‘Staff Only’ to catch a break, not to check if we had any. I knew we didn’t have any in stock. But I couldn’t hide out for too long, as that would be bad customer service.

“I’m sorry, but it looks like we don’t have those in stock. We only have the original and blueberry flavor.” I said, smiling.

“Alright fine, I’ll just have this then.”

“That’ll be $3.45 sir. Would that be cash or card?”

“Cash. Here you go.” He said, handing me a hundred-dollar bill.

I hate this job, but I can’t quit; I need the money. The only reason I’m allowed to live in the city is because I’m able to afford it. Even though my parents are sending me money, it’s nowhere near enough to live in the city. However, they can’t know that. If they do, they’ll force me to come back and live in the countryside.

Wait, why am I talking about this? Oh right, the hundred-dollar bill.

I handed the change of $96.55 and smiled daggers at the man as he left. I would’ve given him 9655 pennies if I could, out of spite. But, that’d be bad customer service. I don’t need the manager being called on me. Well, the husband at least, he’s really bigoted in his ways. The wife’s fine. She sometimes acts pedantic when things are going south, but most of the time she’s too busy hanging out with her friends. Speaking of the devil, the doors to the back office opened and a woman, short in stature but grand in presence, came out.

“Hey, how are things going?” She asked.

“Fine.”

“I’m going out to meet a friend of mine, are you able to man the store yourself?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Thanks a bunch! Call me if something happens!” She shouted, phone on her ear and already turning her attention away from the store before even reaching the doors.

Look, I said she was grand in presence. I didn’t say she’s always present. As she left, my pocket started to buzz. It was mom.

“Hello?”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, mom.”

“Look, I know what’s going on.”

“Y-you do?” I stuttered. Did she figure out that I have a job?

“Yes! I know that you’re trying to hide it from us, but it’s okay. You don’t want to come home, right? Every weekend, you always say you’re busy, but it’s just because you don’t want to come back.”

That was not where I thought this conversation was going.

“Of course not! It’s just that… y’know, life’s busy here. You know how much there is to do in the city, right? I just don’t have time while I’m going to school. I promise I’ll visit once summer break starts. I’ll have plenty of time then!”

“So, everything’s fine?”

“Of course! Why would you think otherwise?”

“It’s just that… You seem to be feeling a bit down lately. You don’t call as much, and even your voice… It’s gotten raspier. And also really flat.”

“Oh, haha, that might be because of the air. Y’know, I’m still somewhat of a country bumpkin, so I’m used to the fresh air over there. I promise… I’m fine here. I’m happy.”

“If that’s what you say, I’m glad. Honestly, it was really hard to gather the money, and it felt like it was nowhere enough, but I’m glad to hear that you’re happy over there.”

“Yeah, I’m really glad I came here. Everyone’s been so nice and there’s so much stuff to do.”

…

“Anyways! I should go now, my friends are calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Alright, goodbye dear.”

“Bye.”

I lied. I lied to my mother multiple times throughout that phone call.

vi. the bad outweighs the good

As the sun set and the day started to come to a close, so did my shift. I checked out for the day and headed home.

“Wait!” The manager called out. “You’ve been feeling tired lately, right? I know exam season is coming, so I wanted to give you this,” she said, clasping my hand with something cold. She smiled with her hazel brown eyes before heading back to the store.

I opened my hand to see a bottle that looked like an energy drink along with a note that got wet because of the condensed moisture around the bottle.

I opened it up and tried my best to read the smudged letters.

‘Hey kid, thanks for always helping out even on short notice. I know exams are looming, but that doesn’t mean that you should skip out on health! This is a bottle of vitamin C that I got from a friend straight out of Japan. It tastes pretty good, so if you want more, just ask :) I heard that college students are most likely to get scurvy. Wait, nevermind, you’re a high school student, ignore that last part haha.’

I returned home, skipping steps as I felt this warm, cozy, fuzzy-wuzzy feeling light up a bit of my empty heart. I looked at the note again and again. Having someone genuinely care for you felt so great. And warm. That warmth allowed me to endure my walk home, as piercing winds blew and penetrated my bones.

As soon as I got inside, I turned on the heater and headed straight towards my blankets to defrost. While it wasn’t super cold, Lavender city is known for freezing winds that blow constantly once the sun sets. And also rain. It’s honestly baffling that there are so many people out during the night with this weather.

I stared through my window, seeing the city people wandering around the streets with their puff sweaters and black umbrellas. Some people were wearing shorts or mini-skirts. I felt cold just looking at them.

Once the room heated up, I got out of my blankets and hit the showers to wash up. After showering, I rummaged through my backpack to pull out my homework. I sat on my desk and stared at it. Not start, stare. Starting is something you do when you have an idea of what to do. Staring is what you do when you have no clue what you’re even looking at. I was staring.

I spent an hour trying to figure out how the formula was applied to the question. Every mistake, every miscalculation, every 1 I forgot to carry, these were all piling up into a ball of anxiety. Eventually, on question 16, I let out a sigh of frustration, slamming the workbook shut.

I didn’t really understand people who cried over grades. But at this moment, when a tear of frustration ran down my cheeks, I finally understood. These weren’t tears of sadness or regret. These were tears of frustration at the fact that I was so dumb that I couldn’t even solve these problems. These tears symbolized how weak and useless I was.

Math drained my energy, and all I want right now, is to go to bed… for eternity. I’m not smart enough, who’s going to care if I died anyway? Why do I need to suffer through these problems when they are giving me actual problems? These thoughts meandered and seeped deeper into my mind the longer I sulked in the realization that these were just practice questions and the test next week would be way harder. I felt so stupid.

The sky darkened to the point that the only lights illuminating the night sky had become cars, streets, and buildings. Alas, it was time for me to go to bed defeated. Before heading to sleep, I picked up my phone, checking if I had any new notifications. I had none. I felt… lonely.

“What are you staring at?”

vii. deal with the devil

A voice came from behind me. I turned around in surprise.

“What are you staring at?” Null asked, peering over my shoulder. I jumped out of my blankets and backed up to a corner of the room. A corner where I had unwashed laundry that was not yet dirty enough to throw in the washer. How is he here? Why?

“N-nothing! Just my notifications…” I replied stuttering. I tried to calm myself a little bit before continuing, “why are you here?”

“Well, we had unfinished business in the bathroom. I wasn’t done talking to you, but you just left.”

“That sounds really wrong.”

“I’m just realizing that. Anyways, how are you feeling about life so far?”

“Huh?” I hesitated at his question, but started to think about it. How is life so far? I started to think about it for a second before answering, “good.”

“Don’t lie. I can see it in your face; your expressions; your eyes.”

He was sharper than I thought.

“Fine, I’m feeling really… crummy.”

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know.” That was the truth, Sometimes, you just feel things. You don’t always have a reason to justify those feelings, but they physically exist inside you. They are real.

I continued, “Well, for starters, I feel crummy because I hate myself. I am a failure. I can’t even solve a simple math packet. I came to the city thinking that my life will drastically change, that I will suddenly gain a group of friends that I get to hang out with, that I will get to go to the movies with a guy that I have a crush on and will end up confessing to by senior year, that I will find this busy life so so charming, that I will find out what my true passions and goals are except for people watching, that I will get to escape the quiet boredom of a farmlife. But none of that was real. All I’ve felt so far was cold, dark loneliness. All that I’ve achieved so far is surviving. My parents are too busy with farmwork now that they have to send extra money for me to live in and attend school in the city. None of that would’ve happened if I just stayed in the countryside. I feel crummy that I am contributing nothing while actively harming others. I feel like a bad person.”

“What would you like to do about it?”

“I… don’t know.”

“You’re saying “I don’t know” a lot. Is that because you really don’t know, or because you are afraid to admit that you do know?”

“Probably… the latter.” I said reluctantly.

In fact, I knew for a while. I’ve had this uncomfortable pebble of thought grow into a mountain. I knew that there was a reason as to why I didn’t want to go to school; why I didn’t want to go to work; why I didn’t want to call my mom; why I didn’t want to do my assignments; why I didn’t want to study; why I didn’t want to sleep at night; why I didn’t want to get up in the morning; why I didn’t want to live… this life. And I knew what I wanted to do about it.

“I want to… die.” I said even more reluctantly. I knew that it was how I felt, but that didn’t mean I wanted to feel it.

“Are you sure?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the one who brought it up!” I yelled.

He smiled. “If you’re sure, then I’ll help you.”

“Huh? You’ll help me die?”

“Well, yeah… that. But also, I’ll help you find a way out. Mainly, find you a reason to live.”

“Why? Why are you doing this for me?”

“That… I can’t answer.” He said, staring down onto the ground. “But, I promise. I promise that it’s for a good reason; one that’s not to harm you, but to help you. I promise with my pinky and I’ll even seal it with my thumb. So… try your best. Try your best to find a reason to live on and I’ll help. Deal?”

He held out his hand, his pinky stretched and waiting to hook onto mine.

“... Okay.” I murmured. “Deal.”

I reached out my hand and linked pinkys with him. His hand felt warm, which was surprising since I thought he was a ghost.

Looking back, I don’t know why I trusted him so blindly. While I technically had known him for a while, this was only our third conversation. But there was something. Something about him. Something about what he said that was so alluring; so compelling that it made me trust his words despite not knowing what weight they carried. Not knowing whether those words were as light and deceptive as a bubble, or as heavy and truthful as a cornerstone.