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Day 13: Blue Cues

A magical object promises something, but it delivers the opposite.

Hera glanced at the small star mark tatted onto her skin. 

“Okay…Cool…?” She trailed a finger over the new design, wondering how on earth she was going to conceal this. Her eyes landed on the vanity where a tube of concealer lay. It would have to do tomorrow. Swinging her chair, she looked at her bed, letting out a sigh. When she found a scuffed up, rusty ring at the antique fair today, magic was not the first thing on her mind. It was a passion project of hers to pick up jewelry and refurbish it. This ring had just called out to her because of the dull, sapphire stone on it. Rebuffing it gently with a brush, Hera was just testing out the size of the ring to her finger when she heard a voice in her head telling her that she was going to find her perfect pair. How she was going to find someone perfect for her with this new blue star on her neck was beyond her, but there was nothing she could do. Standing up, Hera walked over to her closet, pulling out a light cardigan to put over her tank top. A walk would help take her mind off things. She was sure of it. 

Cool summer breezes flew past her, causing her bangs to part gently. She readjusted her hair with her hands, briefly looking up at the sky to look at the stars. One major perk that came with living in the countryside was the endless view of stars. It mesmerized her nightly, and she felt like it was the one time she could talk to her parents without judgement. Knowing they were lighting up the night sky for her to seek solace in gave her so much comfort. Hera smiled, keeping herself along the banks of the lake as she slowly trekked forward. When she was younger, it scared her to walk alone because she’d never done it before. It took a young boy with blue eyes to encourage her. The two of them had looked at the fireflies blinking away with the night sky. Fondly, Hera looked in front of her. She had yet to find another view like that, and she had gradually lost contact with the boy with blue eyes. Moments in life led her to wonder where he was at with his life. Seeing as how she’s never seen him around since then, she assumed he wasn’t around here. 

Her neck pulsed and glowed hot, inducing a sharp hiss from Hera. She closed her eyes, clapping a hand to the spot where her new tattoo lay. It seared, and she whimpered. Her eyes haphazardly gazed at the lake beside her, and she crouched down, dipping her fingertips into the surface. Eyes closed, she blindly cupped some of the lake water, lathering it onto her neck. It did little to alleviate the pain, but she kept her cool hands on her neck. Hera gritted her teeth, willing herself to focus on the breeze’s whisper around her ear. 

She didn’t know how long she crouched on the floor, but she realized she couldn’t stay hunched here. Shaking out the discomfort in her legs, Hera steadied herself slowly. The pain on her neck had dulled into a deep ache. At least it was no longer searing her skin. Belatedly, Hera realized she should have checked her neck against the lake’s reflection to see if anything had changed. She would do it back home. It was too dark to see anything at the moment, anyways. 

At home, she made a beeline towards the mirror, and gasped. There was no longer a star, but multiple stars that came together to create a constellation. They weren’t that obvious, as her first star had been a small dot from afar, but now, no one would be able to ignore it. She groaned. It was shaped like a demented “W.” Except, one length of it was spread out more than the other. 

– 

Blue eyes met blue in the reflected surface. A small tingle trailed down the man’s spine, and the corners of his lips turned up. 

“It’s time.” 

Word count: 693

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Day 12: The Extrovert

It had taken an extensive amount of effort to figure out the best way to get out of this trip. For the first time, Rhea had no desire to participate in a school activity. No one could think of a reasonable explanation to her adamant refusal. 

“Come on, Rhea, it’s going to be the only time we can spend time with the whole class.” 

Jay watched as Rhea’s mouth formed a straight line, offering only an adamant shake of her head as a response. 

What was up with her? 

Two years sharing the same class has taught Jay that Rhea was an extrovert. She was always the first one to volunteer her hand for school-wide activities, the last to leave the classroom when the school ended, and the only person that went out of her way to talk to everyone in the class. It was also the reason why he knew a little about her. 

Jay thought two years of knowing her would have familiarized him with her tendencies. She didn’t seem to want to attend this trip, though. He thought back to his last interaction with her a week ago, when she offered to carry the documents to the teachers’ office. As elected president, he had originally asked for his deputy to assist him, but Raymon had other businesses to attend to the day of. He learned that Rhea was part of a family of 5, with two younger brothers to tend to. Both adored her because of their bigger age gap. Jay had been constantly surprised at the way Rhea hadn’t burnt out, yet. With the way she was everywhere, he had wondered how she managed herself, because he felt that she was stretched way too thin. 

He could talk to her afterwards and see what was up. 

When the school bell rang as a signal to another day’s end, Jay stood from his chair, packing his bag. He kept his eyes on Rhea’s back, wanting to catch her at a good time to talk. He had run a couple of ways the conversation might go, and while most of them ended with ideal endings, there were a couple that made him prepare for the worst. As he watched her walk out with her blue Jansport backpack hung on both shoulders, he ran after her. He called her name, and she turned her head back to give him a wave. 

“Hey Jay. What’s up?” 

“Rhea, hey.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his green hoodie. Pressing his lips together, he gave himself a moment, drafting his question in his head. “Can I ask you something?” 

Rhea took a lean back with a confused look. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

“Why don’t you want to go on the class trip together?” 

Mentally, Jay groaned. He had thought of better ways to address the question. Beating around the bush was one or building up some context questions could have worked better. He winced as Rhea visibly stiffened, her hands tightening around the straps of her bag. Jay wanted to pull away and apologize, but he was also curious about her response. So, he walked silently with her. If he knew her the way he thought he did, then she would eventually give him some sort of reply. Even if it did end up sounding like an excuse or a distraction. 

“My brothers have a trip planned that day. I was hoping that I’d go to supervise them instead.” 

“I thought your dad stayed home?” Jay recalled from his earliest conversations with Rhea. This particular information had stuck with him because it was the opposite of how his family operated. He never considered his mom to be the breadwinner of the family, which partly had to do with his parents’ dynamics. 

Rhea hesitated, and he could see her eyes wavering slightly as she supplied him with more information, “Yes, but she has plans that day. I’ve done a lot of supervising before. It’s okay. I like to see my brothers spend their time making memories. You know how long those can stick to you once you grow up.” Rhea’s hair blew softly as they reached the school gates, and she used a finger to push away the stray blondes that came to her vision. Jay followed her finger as it tucked strands behind her ear, and wondered what it was like to have hair like hers. 

“Do you ever put yourself first?” Jay blurted out. 

Rhea looked surprised at this, and tilted her head up to look at the sky. The colder days naturally brought shorter days of sun, and Jay noticed the sun starting to set over the tall mountains. 

“It hasn’t crossed my mind. Really.” Rhea mumbled. “It’s okay, though.” She quickly rushed on, “I like that they’re able to depend on me for things. That’s what being the oldest is supposed to be like.” 

Jay frowned. He thought about life if he had siblings. Older or younger, he felt like it would be difficult to live life without tending to himself first and foremost. 

“I think you should try prioritizing yourself for once.” He observed the way Rhea’s eyes seem to widen at his suggestion. Taking reassurance from the fact that he wasn’t yelling at him or running away from him, Jay ventured on, “Come to the school trip with us. If it’s the group of people that are making you hesitate, you can spend a day with me. I’ll have fun having the day with you as well.” 

Rhea stopped abruptly on her heels. “You would do that? For me?” 

Jay nodded, the nerves in his heart dissipating when he heard her small voice. Maybe it was something to do with the crowds that worried her? 

“I’ll think about it.” Rhea spoke softly as she continued walking. “Thank you, Jay. This means a lot.” 

He nodded, pulling his hand out from his hoodie. Subtly wiping his palms on his jeans, he found himself asking for her number. At her perplexed expression, he struggled to coherently tell her that he failed to possess her number despite knowing her for the past two years. Rhea relaxed at his words, and dialed her number on the keypads of his phone. He couldn’t ignore the small burst of joy blooming in his chest. 

He received his first text from Rhea at midnight. 

Rhea: I’ll go with you. 

Jay: Sounds good. I’ll let you know the itinerary. 

Rhea: Please let me know how much everything costs you. I can’t let you pay for a full day trip. 

Jay: I’m the one that suggested this, so let me pay for you. My gift for you gracing me with your presence. 

Rhea: That doesn’t make any sense Jay. I should be the one happy about you. 

Jay: Nonsense. You can find other ways to repay me back. I accept all forms except cash. 

Rhea: [Rolling eye emoji] Fine. I’ll find a way. 

The conversation ended at that, and Jay found himself going to bed feeling much lighter. 

Rhea ushered him into a hidden corner of the school hallway the next day. 

“Jay, I’m sorry.” 

He furrowed his brows. “What for?” 

“I don’t think I can go with you.”

Jay felt something heavy drop into his stomach. “What? Why? Did something happen?” 

Rhea shook her head fervently. “No, no. I just can’t justify it. I’m sorry. I know I might have raised your hopes up, but I think I should just stick to the original plan.” 

She was doing it again. Jay couldn’t explain how he felt this in his gut. But, he knew that Rhea wanted to go. If her bright eyes had been an indication of her anticipation towards this upcoming trip, he knew now that she was denying herself. The question was why. Why did she find ways to put her happiness below all else? 

“Rhea. I’m not mad.” He looked around them, making sure that no one was actively looking for them, and beckoned her into an empty classroom. 

“Why don’t you tell me why your thoughts changed?” 

She toyed with her wavy hair. “I need to take care of my brothers.” 

“If finding someone is the problem–” 

“It’s not finding someone that’s the problem, Jay.” Her eyes now had a sense of steel in them as she met his eyes. Bright green burned against his and he reminded himself to blink to break out of her fiery stance. 

“I need to take care of my family. You don’t know what it’s like to feel guilt ripping you apart when you put yourself first. I thought I could do it because you do it.” Rhea clenched her fist. “I can’t. I’m not like you. I can’t just abandon them for my happiness. For me, their joy is my top priority.” Her eyes softened as she lowered her eyes, where her feet were shifting against the concrete floor. “I need you to understand that. It’s not that I don’t want to go with you. I can’t. Responsibilities hold me back.”

With all the anger leaving her body, she sat on top of a desk. Hunching slightly as she placed both palms against the table’s surface. She swung her leg back and forth slightly and glanced at Jay to gauge his reaction. 

Jay felt frustration at his classmate’s stubbornness while admiring her ability to convey her thoughts in a clear manner. She was often like this when she stood up for her classmates. He should have known that she would have felt this way. He couldn’t push her, and he didn’t want to. They weren’t anything, and he had no power to dictate her decisions. 

“Okay. We can find another way to work around this. My offer still stands, though.” Jay looked into Rhea’s bright eyes, hoping that his earnesty would have been felt through. 

Rhea nodded with a warbly smile. 

Jay left the classroom, heading back to the hallway to prepare for his next class. 

Word count: 1664

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Day 19: Catalyst for Life

Your protagonist finds an item that belongs in their life, but doesn’t belong to them.

Something about the gold watch caught her eye. 

It wasn’t special–quite the opposite. There were scratch marks from obvious wear from the previous owner, and the glass surface was broken. As a somewhat superstitious person, Iphine didn’t bring home broken objects. 

But, she just couldn’t leave it sitting there at the flea market. 

So she paid a good twenty bucks for it to refurbish. 

It was a weird sensation, knowing that she was likely never going to wear it outside because of its broken state. Yet, her gut feeling told her that this was the right thing to do. She never ignored what her heart told her. 

With the watch in her possession, she found herself examining it in various lighting. Whenever she was free or felt a little stressed from work, she would play around with the watch in her fingers. Each day would bring her a small revelation to the state of the watch. She could recall the way the clasp closed without sparing it a glance. A crack on the glass surface was easily identified by her fingertips. It was really, really unlike her to get this attached and familiar with the object. Iphine knew that someone, this watch was going to find herself in a better place than before. 

Truth was that her life lacked color. Every day the same, she found herself mechanically entering the subway to commute to work. Small talk with the coworkers was always a polite necessity, but it became another level of annoyance when she came to question the purpose behind it. Life was dull and boring, but felt exciting after finding this watch. 

Since then, she found herself going to different flea markets every weekend to search for other watches. She didn’t need any new ones, especially when she could easily buy herself one with the monthly remuneration she received from being a corporate woman. But, visiting these places were fun and gave her a new way to kill time without staying inside. So, she began her small hobby of collecting watches. With time, she found the easiest ways to get the best deals. Building relationships with the booth owners became a lot easier when she showed her face weekly. Truth be told, it was a joy to find something that made her feel happier. Watching her watch collection grow, she knew that this was a new thing that would stay with her. Watches were the holders of time, and acquiring new watches that came from different eras of the world fascinated her. She would wonder about each watch’s history and how they eventually came to end up in the hands of these flea market owners. Some, she would hear directly from the owner themselves, but there were many watches that were left a mystery. It piqued her curiosity a lot. 

Iphine had always felt like time was a useless concept that reminded people of their imminent doom–life was short to some after all. Yet, when she got to collect these watches, she came to realize that while the length of life seems long, it came down to the holder of life to decide whether they were going to live a boring life or take a chance. She found life a lot easier to navigate when she found a side passion to explore. Her work hours with her coworkers became a lot more interesting when she decided to ask about their passions as well. As silly as it was, finding out the golden watch at the flea market had acted as a catalyst for her to take control of her life.  Word count: 601

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Day 18: Resurfacing Memories

Writing Prompt: A character tries to escape their past, but it keeps catching up with them.

“You have got to be kidding me. She’s the one that’s involved with Ryan?”

Chelsey held her breath, heart speeding up as she processed the words in her head. 

“She doesn’t even look that impressive. I mean, with her plain looks, I’m surprised someone even wanted to be with her in the first place.” A scoff followed. Her arms pressed tighter around the books pressed against her chest; this couldn’t be happening. 

She promised this time that there wasn’t going to be anyone that found out about this. That had been the plan anyways. Who had been the one to leak it? Mind spiralling, Chelsea found her feet taking her to the back gates of the school grounds. On the way, she saw others’ gazes, but focused on getting herself out of here. Anything could happen with her, but she wouldn’t be able to stomach the rumors that will undoubtedly come out from people’s speculations. 

It wasn’t a long walk home from school, but she didn’t have the confidence to face the person that would bring her to tears the most��her mom. Instead, she chose to walk to the hidden bakery nearby to clear her head. Surely, devouring a few pieces of croissants would be enough to let her feel like everything was going to be alright. At least, she hoped that it would be able to. 

The bell rang softly as she pushed the silver handles, the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries calmed her heart, and she allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment of solitude. Thankfully, there was space left in the bakery, which meant she could take a table to herself. Chelsea got herself a cheesecake and threw her bag next to the wooden seat next to her. Her hand stabbed at the cheesecake halfheartedly. 

Truthfully, she hadn’t contacted Ryan in years since that accident. It still haunted her. 

He told her it was alright, and that he understood. Earning his forgiveness was not the concern for her. 

She couldn’t find forgiveness for herself. 

Another ring rang out at the bakery, signalling more customers’ arrivals. Chelsea hunched over to hide herself. There was no guarantee that these customers were from her school, but she could never be too safe. 

“Chel?” A voice questioned, snapping herself out of it. 

It was–no, it couldn’t be. Chelsea’s eyes wavered as they scanned the bakery for the voice’s source. 

The same denim jacket that haunted her at night, the nike air forces that shuffled against the floor, the one hand that continuously messed with the brown strands landing on his face. 

“You can’t be real.” Chelsea gasped out, the fork now stabbing into the cheesecake. 

A look of amusement on his face, he took his steps to stand directly in front of her. She tilted her head up to look at him. Has he always been this tall? Of course not, she answered for herself. The last time they saw each other was back in middle school. Ryan hadn’t gone through the full stages of puberty back then. 

“You’ve grown, Chel. It looks good on you.” He smiled easily, eyes scrounging her face. What he was trying to look for was beyond her. She kept her eyes on the cake now, feet squirming from discomfort. He’s always been able to see through her well when they were younger. Was she still that easy to read?

“Why are you here, Ry?” She deadpanned, unintentionally calling him with the childhood nickname she gave him when he dared to tickle her one night at a sleepover. Her body stiffened at the memory and she shoved a piece of cheesecake into her mouth. 

“You should be back home. What are you doing here?” Chelsea asked when his staring got too much. 

“My family moved to this neighborhood. I’m supposed to be attending your school beginning tomorrow.” He gestured to the outside scenery, “I figured it would be a good idea to figure out where the best goods are in this place so I was making it a personal goal to tour all the bakeries in town. Didn’t know I would run into you here at this time. I thought classes were still in session?”

Chelsea sighed. She wasn’t sure she could hope for the rumors to die down when he officially started his first day. “I did have class, but I ran out.”

“Still a risk taker like before?” Ryan laughed. She glared at the cheesecake. It wasn’t amusing at all. 

“It’s not risk taking, Ryan.” She made it a point to emphasize his full name. A bit of mirth left his face when he registered her change in addressing him. “I just had some personal things come out. School felt suffocating.” 

“I’m sorry Chel.” Ryan made a move and sat down on the chair across from hers. “You need someone to listen?” 

She gave him a polite smile. “I’m good. Thank you.” She grabbed her bag beside her and looped her arms through the backpack straps. “I’ll see you around. Have fun with your bakery tour.” 

“Wait.” Ryan’s hand reached out, almost as if he wanted to grab onto her wrists, but it faltered. Maybe it was the standoffish way she was reacting to him almost five years after the incident. Ryan had always been perceptive. He knew from the way she was behaving that it was Chelsea that wasn’t able to move on fully from what had happened between them. Time was supposed to be enough to heal all the missed opportunities between them, but Chelsea didn’t want to address the elephant in the room. It was a stubborn and irrational decision to make, especially when Ryan was prepared to talk about it, but she couldn’t. 

“I have to go, Ryan.” Now she looked apologetic at the hurt that flashed his features. “I’m sorry.” 

She left him sitting there alone, not for the first time.  Word count: 985

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Day 17: Painting Feels

Writing Prompt: A character is in a room where they can’t speak, but can communicate in other ways.

Elara flicked the paintbrush over her canvas, watching as the maroon red paint seeped into the white canvas. Alone in the room with a few other people, she listened to the way the bristles made contact with the surface. After a long week of work, engaging in artistic activities like these felt therapeutic. People around her worked silently on their chosen canvas, streaks of purple, blue and forest green decorating their art piece. She decided it had been the right choice to choose a class that forbade talking. Living in a bustling city, she was constantly stimulated by the sound of passersby, cars, and people that occupied the space. It made for a productive environment that also contributed to her frequent burnouts. Elara supposed she couldn’t have the best of both worlds when she decided to commit to this city a few years after graduation. 

Her canvas continued to fill with more colors as she let her hands roam free. This time, she dipped her brush into a sunset orange color and created a gradient from the maroon she painted previously. She kept her mind blank, focusing only on the colors that splashed onto her canvas. 

Orange has always held a special meaning for her because it reminded her of the vacation she spent in Greece with her family. They didn’t get overlapping days off, which was why this trip continued to surface from her memories. There had been so many things to see and do, and it reminded her of the reason why she had suggested Italy as their destination. She had never spent so much time close to the sea before, and having access to that was just a surreal experience. Her return flight home was drowned by the anticipation of going back someday so that she could explore more of the area. 

A dash of blue joined the painting. This was incredibly therapeutic. 

Elara continued to create strokes of color on her page until she ended up with a finished painting. The final step was to apply glaze and let it dry, so she completed all the necessary steps before stepping into the museum connected to the little studio. Standing in the room, Elara was surprised at the variety of emotions that were portrayed in each of the paintings. With varying levels of expertise, she could still sense the intentions behind each of the colors chosen. One particular painting showed a silhouette standing by the shores at night, which provoked sadness. Seeing the shadows blend into the sand made her feel like the artist may have been lonely or burdened. She could relate to this feeling well. Another one was of a rose, and traces of glitter decorated the petals, which caused it to reflect gently in the light. 

When she was notified that her painting was done, the owner of the place asked whether she wanted to put hers up in the studio or take it back home. Impulsively, she decided to leave it in the studio. It seemed fitting and would serve as a reminder of the way she felt as she completed the art.  Word count: 520

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Day 16: Heartbreak

Your protagonist is asked to do something against their morals. Do they comply?

Audrey's eyes wavered as Mrs. Ureil shoved a thick envelope into her hands. 

“Leave my son. He can do much better than settle for a girl from a family restaurant.” Her voice laced with distaste, Audrey clenched her fists to disguise the trembling from her. 

“I don’t make it a habit to let someone else decide my life–especially my love life.” Audrey steadily replied back. 

“You disgraceful girl!” Mrs. Ureil took a step forward, a scowl on her face as she gave her a look up and down. 

“Jacob gains nothing from being around you. You don’t know anything about the way our world works. Don’t you dare try shoving your way into this realm. This world has nothing to offer you, and it certainly doesn’t need you to ruin its reputation. The Ureil family has spent too long fabricating the perfect family tree for a commoner like you to contaminate it.” Mrs. Ureil spat the final sentence out, her arms crossed as she continued to scrutinize the young woman. Audrey held her gaze, her body feeling numb hearing it all. She has never been treated this way in her life. It was like her entire being was so easily…disposable. Filtering the words that sat on the tip of her tongue, Audrey opened her mouth to reply back, only to be cut off by a ringtone. Her ringtone designated for Jacob.  

“I wouldn’t pick that up if I was you. Need I remind you that I know everyone in the industry. I can easily end your family’s business. Blacklisting you all requires nothing but a flick and a signature from me. Think. Wisely.”  

Audrey froze at those words. Anything aimed at her, she was willing to fight because it only concerned her. If Mrs. Ureil wanted to make her life a living hell, she would take that over leaving Jacob without a word. She heard stories of how he was forced into this life. He hated being a puppet, and wanted to find the right timing to leave. “I’m so glad I met you.” His confession echoed in her mind. His eyes had been a delicate blue as he poured his heart out to her that night on her couch. She felt his heart ache. 

But she would never be able to forgive herself if she was the reason her family went out of business. It took them years of labor and effort to establish their reputation in the neighborhood. Audrey alone couldn’t be the reason they went back to their life full of debt. She knew how much her parents were looking forward to the trip to Italy over the summer. For them to enjoy their full break, they would have to save up as much as they can to spend generously during their days off. Looking into Mrs. Ureil’s eyes, Audrey saw the hidden glee, and realized that she knew Audrey’s weakness was family. She was forcing herself to give up on Jacob so that she could protect her family. It angered her beyond words. Her phone continued to buzz and sing from her purse. She let it go to voicemail. Closing her eyes, her fists shook, no longer from fear, but from rage. Jacob’s face came to her mind, and she inhaled. She swore she could hear her heart break as she dug her nails into the envelope in her right hand. It disgusted her. 

“Don’t threaten me or my family ever again.” She demanded. 

“As long as you stay out of our family’s business, dear, nothing will ever touch you again.” Mrs. Ureil smirked, gesturing to her secretary to open the car door behind her. “You made the smart choice Ms. Leigh. I know you’re smart enough to keep this,” she looked pointedly at the envelope in Audrey’s hand, “will stay between the two of us.” 

Audrey swore she could almost taste bile rising up her throat as she affirmed, “Jacob won’t know.” 

With a roar of an engine, Mrs. Ureil and her limousine were gone. When Audrey was sure she could no longer see her, she turned around to make her way back into her house. Turning the keys to her apartment with shaky hands, she held her breath to hold her hand steady. The key slipped in, and she twisted it to open her door. Shaking off her shoes, she trudged over to her sofa, but not before putting the envelope of money on the coffee table. Her breath caught up on her, and she moved to remove her jacket and purse, setting it down beside her. Audrey climbed onto the sofa, and curled her knees into herself. She wrapped her arms loosely around her thighs, massaging them gently to relieve the tension from her body. Dark blue spots appeared on her light washed jeans. She didn’t notice she had started to cry. All the bravado was leaving her, and Audrey felt herself shake violently as she gasped for air. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed, and her eyes blurred  with her own tears. Tucking her head into the space between her knees and chest, she closed her eyes shut. A sob broke out of her as she sobbed and wailed. Was it from the loss of Jacob? Yes, it was partly because of him. She didn’t want to choose between him and her family, but when it came down to one choice, she had to pick the former. Guilt ripped inside her as she wondered what Jacob’s reaction would be. What would his mother tell him about her? He probably hated her now. There was no way he would want to stay with her when he inevitably found out that she made a conscious decision to abandon him. Because this was what it really narrowed down to. She gave up on him when she promised him to be his family. Jacob had been so excited when he found out she wanted a family of five. Another wave of sorrow slammed her as she grieved for the future she lost.

Was she the pathetic one for ever hoping his family would accept her in the first place? 

Audrey didn’t know how long she'd been crying for, but at one point, the tears dried and her pain dulled. Glancing at the digital clock by the wall, she found out it was past dinner time. Nearly two hours have passed since Mrs. Ureil confronted her in front of her house. Her hands fumbled inside her purse to pull out her phone. Just like she suspected, she had missed calls and messages from Jacob. She rubbed her eyes to get rid of the blurriness from her vision. Looking at her notifications made her want to break into tears again.

3 missed calls from Jacob <3 

48 new messages from Jacob <3 

I miss you so much, I can’t wait for our date this weekend. 

How was your day? 

Honey, are you okay? 

Your location says you’re still at home. Did something happen? 

Audrey? Can you please pick up the phone and tell me you’re safe? I worry about you. 

10 missed calls from Jacob 

Call me back, love. 

Did my mother confront you? 

Audrey, please. I can’t let things end like this. 

Audrey sighed, shutting her phone off. She couldn't find the strength in her to tell him. A thought made its way into her head for a brief moment, but she brushed it aside. He had a day of interviews with the press team today–Mrs. Ureil would never allow him to abandon it. She uncurled herself from her tucked position and tried to release the tension she felt in her shoulders. A grumbling sound rang out the room and Audrey shut her eyes with a groan. There wasn’t anything in her fridge; she rarely cooked. The one time there would be food was if Jacob cooked meals for her. Thinking of him humming in the kitchen made her want to cry all over again. Audrey forced herself up, dragging her feet to the kitchen. She just entered when she heard her doorbell ring. Was she hearing things? She frowned, eyes glued to her door. Quietly making her way to the front door, she slipped the chain lock and held her ear to the door. 

“Audrey, are you in there?” 

Her heart skipped a beat, and her foot took a few steps back. 

“Audrey, please, can you give me a chance to talk?” Jacob pleaded. She imagined his tousled hair–he would always run his fingers through them whenever things get stressful. 

She wanted to see him, but she wasn’t confident enough to say that she would be able to let him go afterwards. Turmoil in her heart, she wrapped her arms around herself. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she let her heart win. Hesitantly, she cracked the door open, peering out. There was barely enough time for her to react when she felt his frame rush into hers, embracing her in a tight grip. Her arms unwound and reached for his back. He was trembling, and she could feel her shirt getting wet. Out of habit, she started humming the melody she sang to him every time he fell asleep on her bed. It wasn’t perfect because she was tearing up as well, but they didn’t point it out. Savoring in his hold, Audrey’s surroundings filled with the scent of cedar wood and musk–her favorite cologne scent on him. Her hands reached up to the back of his neck, and gently massaged the tension in his scalp away. Jacob responded by holding her tighter so that she was pressed against him completely. 

“What did my mother tell you.” He growled out. 

She stiffened, remembering the earlier threat, and let her hands fall. Audrey placed her palms on Jacob’s chest to lightly push him away, but he refused–keeping her there with limb arms. Sighing, she stalled, wanting nothing more but to go back to the way life was before today happened. 

“Audrey, please. I–do you know how broken I felt when my mother came back and told me I was never going to see you again? I kept telling myself that she was lying. Why would she tell me that when she knows how in love I am with you?” Jacob’s wobbly voice felt like stabs in Audrey’s heart. She immediately placed her arms around him again to rub circles on his bicep and back, and was relieved to feel some of the tension leave him. Even then, he hadn’t stopped trembling like a lost puppy in her arms. 

“She threatened my family for me to leave you.”

Jacob froze, his head whipping to meet hers. She took in his puffy, bloodshot eyes and reached up to cup his jaw. It was tense, and Audrey knew from the fire burning in his eyes that he was not going to forget about this any time soon. 

“She had no right to do that to you. Especially not you,” his low voice vehemently stated. 

Audrey sighed, feeling a wave of anger, frustration, sorrow and a whole other lot of emotions come up before whispering, “I’m sorry.” 

Indignance seemed to fill Jacob as he opened his mouth to protest, but Audrey beat him to it. 

“I made a promise to stay with you…to fight for you and our future. You have no idea how much I loved our dream of starting a family.” Her eyes implored him to search for any traces of resentment, “Your mother said she’d cut my parent’s business out and I just–I couldn’t–I” her breath caught up in her throat and she gasped for air, “I wanted to choose you. I never wanted to give up on you, but my parents–they…They sacrificed so much to give me this life.” Her heart was racing so fast and a wave of nausea came over her as she struggled to explain herself. Why was it so hard to just breathe? 

“Audrey. Audrey! Love, breathe with me.” Jacob’s voice pierced through her mind and her eyes met his. He looked terrified. “I don’t blame you.” 

She shook her head, rasping out, “You should hate me.” 

Jacob sternly looked at her, “I can never hate you.” He gently placed his chin on her head and reaffirmed, “I love you, Audrey. I will never make you choose between me and your family. I know how much Mrs. and Mr. Leigh cherishes their restaurant. If they were forced to go out of business because of me, I would never be able to forgive myself as well.” He traced her cheek with the back of his palm, and she grabbed onto his hands, pressing it into her more. “I’m sorry I allowed my mom to find you at the place you should feel the safest.” His eyes hardened, “I won’t let her near you again.” 

Audrey’s heart clenched. “I can’t put you through that.” 

“Love, if there is anything I learned living under her is that I can ask for favors from others to make sure you stay safe. I’m not old, but I am a young adult with a decent amount of power in my hands.”

Tension began leaving her as her body fell limp, and she had to lean into him to stay upright. He seemed to sense her exhaustion and picked her up, bridal style, heading into her apartment. Slipping off his sneakers, he carried her onto her sofa. Bending to place her into the cushions, he kept his elbow propped next to her face as his eyes soaked in her features. Now, her heart raced for a whole ‘nother reason, and she gulped. His mouth looked enticing and she licked her lips in anticipation. The two of them stayed trapped in the moment, neither sure to make the first move. Audrey’s mouth trembled as she felt his warm breath near her mouth, and she sucked in a breath. Shyly, she reached up, cupped his jaw with her hands, and kissed the corner of his mouth. That was just the motion Jacob needed to move into action. He put his full weight on top of her as he crashed his lips into hers. Passion and frustration ripped through him as he nibbled her bottom lip, occasionally running his tongue on it, evoking a moan out of her. His hands moved from her cheeks to her waist, and she moved to do the same, running her fingers through his abdomen. Every gasp and moan from him added to the spark, and she found herself pressing herself into him. She wanted–needed to be closer to him, now.  

“Audrey, you are going to ruin me.” Jacob whined, pressing kisses to her forehead, between her eyebrows, her cheeks, the sensitive spot below her earlobes, and her mouth. “I love you so, so much.” 

“Jacob.” She could barely make out between his kiss frenzies. “I don’t want to give this up.” She pressed her mouth against his neck, and he let out a breathy moan. “I love you.”   

“I’ll find a way. Audrey, I promise I will not let my mom get in the way. Trust me.” 

The kisses eventually slowed to a cuddling session–Audrey had to scoot over into the sofa to make space for both of them. She was still worried about the aftermath of her actions, but she felt safer knowing that Jacob was on board with finding a solution together. Toying with his fingers, she locked hers into it. Tilting her head back to look at Jacob, the corners of her mouth lifted. 

“Thank you, honey. I love you.” 

His eyes burned into her. “I love you more.”  Word count: 2609

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Day 15: Time Travelling

A time traveler can only revisit their regrets. How do they cope?

Remember Dove, only time travel sparingly. You do not want to get trapped in regrets.

Tears strung in her eyes as she watched the scene unfold before her. The younger girl in her memory looked at her grandmother in awe as she etched her teachings into her heart. If only she had heeded her grandmother’s advice. If only her grandmother knew that those would only be in vain. She watched on as her grandmother held her cheeks in her palms, cupping it gently and brushing one cheek with her thumbs. It was like she was reliving the memory again. Closing her eyes, Dove could almost feel the gentle caress on her cheek.

“I’m sorry, grandma.” Dove whispered, unable to keep her voice above the current decibel. Swallowing to shove the lump from coming up her throat, she placed a hand on the glass-like surface covering the memory. Cold and unforgiving, just like her powers. She stood from her crouched position, putting both her hands on her left knee, and turned away. The faint sounds of dialogue echoed in her ears, and Dove felt like she could have easily stayed there much longer wallowing in thought. Her limbs felt heavy, but she pushed forward, her heart feeling heavier by the second. A foggy film appeared before her, and she let it wash over her body, the coolness causing involuntary goosebumps to form. Now, her tears slipped freely, in the emptiness of her own space. She never figured out what exactly this place was, and how it worked. All she knew was that there was enough time after reliving a memory to collect herself–as if it wanted to acknowledge the difficult decisions she mulled in her mind before choosing to come back. Dove knew that this was not healthy. Her grandmother had warned her multiple times before allowing her to time travel. In hindsight, Dove had a hunch that it was because her grandmother had seen the possibility of her going back in time to add to her guilt.

She had always felt like she wasn’t enough. Born as the middle child, she was neither old enough or young enough to receive special privileges like her siblings did. Her parents may not have noticed their different behaviors when they were around her or her siblings, but she knew that they were more content leaving her alone. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, they just felt safe letting her make her own decisions. Thanks to them, she had a stronger attachment to her grandparents than the rest of her family. She was also now stuck with this unbreakable habit of being independent. Everything had to be made by her own accord, and surprises terrified her. That was part of the reason why she felt attached to this power. It gave her a chance to think about ways she could have done it better. She exhaled. There has got to be a way she could stop this. Willing herself to back away from the empty space, she blinked slowly, finding herself back in her room. The clock read 3 p.m., which meant she was in the memory for a little over an hour. It was more than her usual time spent, but she had missed her grandmother a lot.

Dove grabbed her coat, shoving a wire earphone into the bottom of her phone, and headed out the door. She was going to need some fresh air to let herself rewind. Calling a number she memorized by heart, she didn’t need to let it ring long before a voice picked up. Feeling a smile quirk up her face, she chirped out, “Hey.”

“Guess who's back?” The voice replied with sass, “Seems like she has decided to return from the past.”

“That she did.” Dove replied lightly. She kept her eyes on the sidewalk, waiting for the red light to turn green. “Do you mind coming out to debrief? I’ll be at the usual spot.”

“I gotchu. Give me a couple minutes, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Thank you, I’ll see you later.”

The lights shining green, Dove crossed the road, her earphones playing her favorite jazz playlist. Letting her limbs relax, she kept her eyes forward as she thought about ways to tell Mia what she experienced this time. Her mind buzzed with different approaches, and she was about halfway through the crosswalk when she realized belatedly that her feet were no longer on the ground. She was…flying? Time slowed as she tried to register what had just happened. Her side ached, and it was hard to breathe. Eye rolling to the side, she saw how her side was now parallel to the concrete floor. It all came crashing down as she felt the brunt force tremble through her thin frame. Pain shooting up her elbows told her that something was decisively broken. Her legs were sprawled, and something warm was gushing through her head. Was that her own…blood? Thinking felt like swimming through murky water, and she opened her mouth to say anything. Frantic calling from faraway connected her mind to someone calling the ambulance on her. Would it make it in time? She thought of Mia, who was unaware of all of this that just happened to her. What would she say? Would she be okay?

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey!” A voice shouted at her. Dove tried to focus on the figure, but she could feel the blood leaving her. Closing her eyes felt so much easier.

“No, no, no, you have to keep it open, Dove!” The voice grew frantic and desperate, and she managed to stop herself from closing both her eyes fully. Instead, they were half-lidded and trying to process the person keeping her from sleep. Furrowing her brows, she felt annoyance spike through her. Who was this person, and why were they trying to keep her from going back to sleep?

Careful arms picked her up from the floor and Dove cried out in pain as it accidentally touched her elbows. She whimpered, tears pricking her eyes, then mumbled, “Hurts…”

“They’re coming, Dove. Hang in there. It won’t take long. We’ll get you help and fix you back up, you hear me?” Her body vibrated, and somewhere along the way her mind reached the conclusion that it wasn’t hers, but this new person’s. Were they actually worried something might happen to her? She didn’t know. Couldn’t afford to know. Going back to the darkness felt alluring in the moment.

A cry rang in her ears, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Sending a silent apology, she let the dark take her. Another sound echoed by her ear, but she couldn’t make it out in her unconscious state.

—

If Norman had learned anything from time travelling, it was this: time travel was an addiction. When his parents first told him of his powers, he had thought nothing of it. It sounded cool, and made a new addition to his life, but he rarely used it. There was no real reason to when his life was already where we wanted it to be.

Then his brother took his own life, and his parents became the shell of who they used to be.

It was funny how easy it was for life to pull a reverse card once everything he knew was ripped away from life. Everyone looked at him with pity at school, and nobody dared to approach him freely. Teachers were constantly asking him to stay after class to talk to them in private: they wanted to know that therapy was an option. He felt mostly fine. Honestly, it was the shock of someone so close to him dying that gave him a hard time to fully comprehend the weight of it all. His friends gave him the space he needed without him asking. Norman figured that there had been a shift in his demeanor that led them to do so, which he understood. One thing that did hurt him more than he expected was the way his classmates started avoiding him. He wasn’t the most popular guy before his brother passed, but he liked to think that he was likable. When he noticed his classmates leaving their seat whenever he sat closer to them or breaking eye contact when he met their gaze, he drew a bitter conclusion that they thought his family’s bad energy would pass on to them in some way. With the way this all happened in a week, Norman had to accept that he was now better known as a pariah. Spending time in close proximity with him was no longer a good sign.

The week after his brother’s death was the first time he decided to time travel. Not willing to ask his parents about it, he dove into it headfirst, and it had been wild. Messing around with the time told him that not only did he have access to his past memories, he somehow had memories of his future. He did wonder if the ‘the future isn’t set in stone’ idea applied to him, but time proved that it didn’t. A part of it made sense. How was he going to change the future if he had no idea what it took for him to get there?

Then the memories changed from simple memories to regrets. He still had access to his memories of the past and future, but he was looking at moments that clawed away at his heart. His brother’s death was a big part of it, and it became so overwhelming he had to force himself away from entering the time travelling space. It took a month for him to slowly come to terms with it, but it still hurt. Spending time with the memories did eventually allow him to forgive himself. Initially, it felt like betrayal, allowing himself to feel happiness again, but he knew his brother. Coby would have wanted him to feel happy even without him around. That was always the brother he knew growing up, taking care of others before himself. Thinking of him always made him want to be a better version of himself to make him proud.

When the memories of Coby stopped being painful, Norman was introduced to a new set of memories from the future. One recurring one was of a woman with chestnut hair that got into a car crash. Her eyes were warm and hazel colored, and so full of life. It felt wrong to see her laying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Rewinding the memory a couple of times let him know that the woman’s name was Dove, and she was someone that stirred a protectiveness in him that he didn’t know he possessed. It had been a while he even felt this way after his brother’s death. He didn’t make it a habit to get too emotional over someone he knew, even more for someone he has never met before. Dove kept him up at night wondering about his future. He found himself captivated by her when the time space kept exposing him to other memories of him with her. It was a Tuesday evening spent on a date night at home. From the way the both of them looked at each other, this was nearly a daily occurrence. It surprised him seeing a lovesick gaze in his eyes. He stood with bated breath as he saw his future self embracing Dove while settling his shin on her shoulders. The intimacy between the two of them was weird, but comforting. Weird, because he didn’t look that much older in the memory, which meant this happened in a nearer future. Comforting, because he had proof that he found someone he loved.

Every day out of the time space from then on was spent on finding information about this Dove. Moments like this made him wish that he could see the full story behind each memory, but he was limited to a repetitive segment of ten minutes.

Norman felt that seeing his memory come to life has always been strange. Even if he saw it happen in the time space, being in the actual place where he’s seen it happened felt like everything was a simulation. That was the first thought in his head as he saw an all too familiar chestnut-colored hair walking in front of him. The way the curls slightly bounced with each step, and the wired earphones poking out of her coat’s pockets was everything he had seen in a memory before. Eyes widening in alarm, Norman felt his entire body stiffen as he rushed forward, intent on saving her. Every cell in his body focused on the woman in front of her, the same woman that had no idea that she was going to be at death's door in a couple of seconds. His mind begged the deities above to save her, he was now almost there. Throwing his hands out in desperation, Norman’s fingertips clasped the back of Dove’ coat as he grabbed her frame to push her away. A yelp and a flash of hazel met his eyes, and he felt his eyes soften in relief as he braced himself for impact.

She was going to live. Word count: 2213

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Day 14: A move, A letter, A future

A character finds a journal written by their future self. What does it say?

Irene knew when the fifth box was taped away that she was never going to underestimate moving again. 

It wasn’t exactly her fault; Ori had been the one that reassured her that moving was not a big deal. 

“Irene, moving becomes a game of tetris. As long as you know how to categorize them into their respective boxes, I bet you wouldn’t take more than two days boxing everything up!” 

Irene groaned at the pile of everything that was left piled up in the living room. Clothes were strewn across the floor, and oh goodness why was there so much trash to throw away? Biting her bottom lip, Irene made a quick decision there that she was going to have to force herself to take a break. If she went along with this, she was going to lose out on sleep, and she would much rather get sleep than spend the next few hours slaving away at this task. Her decision final, Irene headed over to her bedroom, which was currently the only place that had any free space. It had been a deliberate move to keep it free of clutter, and she was glad she stuck to it somehow. Falling into her bed with a content sigh, she sunk into her pillow, burrowing her face. Flipping back so that her back lay flat on the mattress, she stretched her limbs. It felt good feeling all the tension leave her body. Her phone buzzed, and she glared at it. No doubt that it was Ori. She’d reply back later. Now, she wanted some time to enjoy the stolen peace before she committed to another full day of packing tomorrow. 

Irene closed her eyes, feeling the way air whooshed in and out of her lungs. A ding sounded, and she found her eyes looking up at the ceiling. Overcome by the desire to crash on her bed, she forgot that she had ordered chinese food. Picking herself up slowly, Irene trudged over to the door, cracking it open. Hands reached down blindly to grab the plastic bag of yumminess, and she sniffed the inside of the bag. Glancing at the living room, she wondered if she should even try eating amongst her things. Let’s…not. 

Swinging her heels, she made her way back into her bedroom. As she put her food back down on the floor, she leaned over to the wall closest to the door, arms stretching to drag a folded table. She propped it open, and popped off the lids of the plastic containers to reveal her food. 

Reaching into the bag, she looked for a pair of chopsticks. It wasn’t a habit to ask for them normally, but she already packed her kitchen utensils away. She was not going to go through the box just to eat. Paper met her fingertips, and she grasped it into her hands. Peeking at the bag, she noticed there was something unusual in the bag. That was strange and definitely not normal. She considered herself a regular in this restaurant; they never sent her any letters for ordering more than five times. What was even weirder was the fact that the letter was addressed to her from her. The other noticeable oddity was that the date in the bottom of the envelope was exactly ten years from now. This was too much of an eerie coincidence. 

Well, she guessed it couldn’t hurt seeing the contents of it. Hands ripped the envelope open, and she found herself staring at a piece of paper, a couple of photos and a pocket watch. How the pocket watch had fit into the slim envelope was beyond her–honestly, she hadn’t felt it at all when she first picked up the letter. But, Irene was also functioning with four hours of sleep. She supposed a couple of strange happenings like these could be attributed to her fatigued state of mind. Chinese food long forgotten, she unfolded the piece of paper. In it read the following: 

Dear Irene,��

If my memory is correct here, you’re most likely in the middle of packing your things. I would like to tell you that Ori was right about packing being an easy task, but I know by now you would have realized that your dear friend had lied. Well, technically she didn’t. We both know Ori has a tendency to make things seem easier than it seems. I want to say hang in there, but you got to finish packing. 

I already know you think moving sucks. But, it is not going to be the last time you move. 

You want to get married, don’t you? 

Irene took a sharp breath in. She hasn’t had the courage to tell anyone that. Well, it wasn’t an unpopular opinion to have amongst her peers–they were all in their mid-twenties. Some of them were already married with children or pregnancy on the way. But Irene had never conversed about this; Ori didn’t know. Part of it was because she had a horrible childhood and people wanted to spare her from the trauma. Another reason was because she had deliberately stayed quiet while the others went on and on about their dream life with a perfect somebody that would raise their children together. Either way, Irene didn’t want to dwell too long into a future where everything was uncertain. One thing she realized from watching her parents discourse was that love was overrated anyways. She couldn’t deny the pain in her heart that would come to her in waves when a romantic holiday approached or when she saw a family looking genuinely content in each others’ presence. It was just not the right time to consider it. That’s what she would keep telling herself because when she came to terms with the fact that she craved and feared affection from someone, it would break a part of her. She really didn’t like being vulnerable. This applied to both voluntary and involuntary situations. She continued pouring over the letter. 

This person who granted me this chance at sending you a letter to the past told me I’m not allowed to tell you too many details. They said something about keeping the timeline intact and making sure you didn’t go around moving elements to achieve the future in a quicker manner. I honestly feel like you wouldn’t be able to do much about it even if you learned who you were married to because you tend to overthink, but I digress. 

One thing I can tell you in certainty is that this man knows how to treat you like the princess you always dreamed of. He knows from the way you crinkle your brow that you are entering deep into your thoughts: the negative ones. There are tips and tricks he learned throughout our relationship that will immediately give you a message that he is the one. I promise you that when the time comes for him to ask for your hand, you will cry for all the happiest reasons. It’s not going to be impossible living the life you never thought you could. So, younger-me, just keep packing. Focus on the present. You will find this person one day and realize that you did such a good thing moving to this new neighborhood. 

The guy is glaring next to me for spilling that information. I am choosing to ignore them. 

I hope you keep pushing out your dream to become a brand marketer for your favorite beauty brand. We know how much of an avid fan you are of it. Trust me when I say that whatever you decide to do now will end up paying off. You will find yourself looking back at you now–yes the one that has forgotten her lovely chinese food on the table by her bed–and commend yourself for trying so hard to push forward. Because those days are not easy. They are really not that easy. So, thank you Irene for pushing yourself forward. 

I’m going to leave the letter at that, but I sneaked in a couple of photos and the pocket watch for your future husband. Not entirely sure if the magic will work and affect the way the photos look to you, but I wanted to leave you proof that what I’m saying is the truth.

Remember, just keep packing tomorrow. Moving to this new area will change your surroundings and expose yourself to people that you didn’t know you would ever be able to meet. 

Irene finished the letter, and reached for the photos with shaky hands. She tried calming herself down, but the letter felt really…unreal. There may have been better words to describe the emotions threatening to take over her one by one, but she could barely wrap her head around the fact that her future looked so different ten years from now. Her eyes took in the three photos, which were warped by some magical seal that prevented her from seeing it clearly. However, colors and silhouettes were made out by her sharp eyes, and she realized it was a couple portrait of her and her husband. It warmed her heart seeing that she would participate in these mundane activities. 

None of her parents ever left pictures of themselves in the house, which made her think that it was normal. It wasn’t until she met with Ori at her house when she took a hard hit in reality. Photos were a sign of affection and a physical proof of love in the household. Not having it in the house was a sign that things had gone awry between two people who married for love. That night, Irene remembered tears streaming down her eyes as she saw a whole new reality of her family predicament. Her parents didn’t love her enough to fix whatever has happened between them. They didn’t even try anymore. Forcing the difficult thoughts out of her mind, she moved on to the next photo. Again, she couldn’t make out what was in them, but the white colors gave her an idea that it was someone’s wedding. From the woman’s ginger hair, she deduced that it wasn’t her wedding. It was likely Ori’s. She felt her heart flutter seeing the photo held in her hands. Living a happy life was always a part of her dream, but she longed for her friends to live out their dreams as well. Knowing that this was Ori’s wedding photo reassured her. Even a decade later, they were friends. She knew from meeting Ori for the first time in college that this was going to be more than just a regular friendship, and she was glad that she was right. 

Her eyes landed on the pocket watch, and Irene felt the cool glass and silver touch her hands. It wasn’t ticking, which made sense. It was only supposed to work in the future. She wondered about the story behind it. How did she and her husband end up having this as their special object? An ache spread in her chest and she closed her eyes, imaging herself cocooned in her future husband’s arms. She could also feel the way his warm arms enveloped her, keeping her safe from her nightmares. It was strange, being able to almost feel it happening to her. Yet, it all felt right to her as well. Irene opened her eyes, staring longingly at the pocket watch again. It warmed against her palm, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted to meet this man. This person took her heart, healed it whole and would be the one that taught her how to love. If packing was the reason her life would make a turnaround, she supposed she could forgive the hours spent on moving. It was exciting, thinking about her new life. If the letter hadn’t appeared tonight, Irene may have seriously considered packing at a much slower pace. That might have been an exaggeration, but the sentiment was still there. 

Sighing, Irene finally took a bite of her chinese food. It was delicious, as always. She couldn’t wait for the future when she shared it with her small family filled with love. 

Word count: 2034

[beaniearchive]

Day 11: Your Thoughts in the Rain

Writing Prompt: A character hears others’ thoughts—but only when it rains.

I can’t believe I forgot my umbrella. 

Of all days it had to rain, it’s today. 

The kids! Oh I should have given them umbrellas. 

What should I eat? Hm hm hm!

Ally stood by the school’s wooden doors, eyes observing those around her as her mind filled with their thoughts. Her umbrella was left forgotten in her hand as she waited for the rain to pass. 

Since her tenth birthday, she realized she could hear people’s thoughts. It felt like listening to a podcast. Bringing it up to her parents had caused her to realize that there wasn’t anyone else experiencing this. “Maybe it’s your soulmate sign!” Her mom had enthused. Ally dismissed it. She knew soulmates had their own thing, but why would she be able to hear everyone’s thoughts if she had one soulmate? It didn’t make sense. Her parents had a sweet sign–a symbol appeared on their hands when they first held it on Christmas Eve. It would light up with vibrant colors and fill their hearts with warmth before dimming down. Ally had always looked for that kind of bond, and envied her parents for finding it with each other. She knew she was still young, and sixteen was too early to find her soulmate, but the painful lack of social life drove her to seek out her partner. 

Ally sighed. Unlike her previous hopes that the rain would die down, it seemed like the pour would continue the entire day into early morning. Once again, she wondered if it was a twist of fate that she was born in Seattle, where it drizzled the majority of the year. If her powers were limited to huge downpours–those were fairly rare–she wouldn’t have complained. Just her luck. 

Propping her umbrella open, Ally twirled the handle of it with her hands as she braced herself to step into the rain. She was just about to step out into the rain when she felt something knocking into her. Eyes widening, Ally twisted herself with spry to upright herself. Turning her head to figure out what almost caused her to fall, she realized it was a transfer student she exchanged greetings with earlier in the school week.

Aaron Tret. Son of a billionaire. Part of the exclusive circle of elitism. 

Is that Aaron? 

Oh my gosh he’s the son of that billionaire! I am bringing this up to my friends tomorrow. 

Who’s that girl next to him? 

Did he just fall?

Ally shoved the thoughts to the back of her head and bent her knees to offer a hand. 

Aaron jerked his head up as her hand entered his vision and grasped onto it, pulling himself up. She felt her world fall silent as their hands touched. The voices in her head drowned out to the sound of rain as she looked up at him in wonder. How was he doing that? What did this mean? Why were the voices gone from her head?

Aaron’s eyes were locked at their interlocked hands. A small smile was on his face as he felt the rush of voices entering his head at her contact. So many voices, like the ones his parents said he would hear. Yet, all he could hear was distinctively her. 

His eyes flickered to her eyes, numerous questions sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he kept his mouth shut. This moment felt too precious to shatter. 

Ally was the one that broke their contact. When her finger left his grip, her mind was infiltrated by everyone’s voice. It took considerably more effort for her to filter it out to background noise again. She gave a nod, picking her fallen umbrella from the floor and fled from him. Heart picking up speed as she replayed the scene over and over in her head, she made it back home in records’ time. When she opened the door to her house, she immediately rushed to her room after a quick, “I’m home!” to her parents. Chucking her school back to the ground, she stripped out of her outside clothes to change into pajamas. The voices in her head muted to a low hum and she gratefully took the rare moment of quietness in her brain. She found out throughout the years that the amount of voices she could hear was set to a certain radius. Beyond that, she was guaranteed a lower number of voices in her head. 

But, what was that? Ally’s mind brought her back to her interaction with Aaron. She never had that happen to her before. Did that usually happen with people she made contact with? Ally furrowed her brows. There was a theory to test. She entered the weather app on her phone and checked the forecast. Thankfully, rain was predicted all hours after school. Ally smiled. She will test her theory with her friend starting tomorrow. 

–

Sitting in her last class of the day, Ally found herself looking out the window to check for any signs of rain. This might have been the first few times she actively seeked out the rain. She blamed it on the taste of quietness from holding Aaron’s hand. If she figured out the exact source of it, she would be free from the quiet noises. 

Thankfully, a light drizzle began falling down from the sky when school ended. Ally’s mind filled with her classmates’ plans afterschool, and she let it flow in her head. 

“Ally, join me for a study session!” Her friend, Brina called out to her, placing her hands on Ally’s arm. Ally bit her lip. Her mind wasn’t at ease, and her mind was still crowded with voices. 

Ally apologetically responded, “I’m sorry Brina, I have plans to spend the evening with my parents. It’s movie night.” 

Brina let out an “aww” and let her arms go. Ally clutched her umbrella, eyes scanning the classroom for her next possible target. She found her eyes meeting Aaron’s and she stared into it. Something unknown transpired between him and her, and she couldn’t really place her finger on it. She broke her gaze from him in daze. Looking at the door, she noticed her classmate Daniel heading out, and scampered to follow. She speed-walked to him, breaths heaving as she called out his name. Daniel looked at her in concern and confusion. “Hey Ally. What’s up?” 

Ally let out a few more puffs of her breath. “Hold on–sorry. I just–let me catch my breath.” Daniel patiently waited for her, and Ally held back a laugh when she heard his thoughts wondering if she had asthma. It was an innocent question, but the level of uncertain concern he had for her was amusing. 

“Can I test something?” Ally asked. 

“Sure. What do you need?” Daniel responded, shifting his weight to his right. 

“Can I hold your hand for a second?” 

“What?” 

Ally cringed with a smile. “Sorry, I know it’s a really weird one to ask from you. We barely interact in class. I’ll grant you a favor in return, though!” 

Daniel hesitantly outstretched his hands, palms facing up. Ally looked into his eyes and grabbed his hands with her fingers, closing her eyes to block all distractions out. A few seconds passed, and she felt hope leave her. It was still too loud. 

To add on top of that, Daniel was hyperventilating at their contact. 

Ally let go of her hands, and she thanked Daniel, who stood there, frozen. 

She laughed internally, and sighed. Guess her phenomenon wasn’t linked to holding hands with a male or a female. Then what did it mean? Was she just connected to Aaron? Was he the only one that could keep the voices away? 

Speaking of him. Ally noticed him watching her from the school doors. She looked around her, making sure he was looking at her. It was. He walked over to her in two strides, and she tilted her head up to maintain eye contact. 

“What were you testing?” 

Ally wondered what to tell him. What sounded reasonable to someone that didn’t know about her powers? 

“My feelings…?” 

“You were figuring out your feelings for someone by holding their hand?” 

She smacked her forehead internally. That was so creepy. 

“Uh…” 

Aaron raised his hand to connect his index finger to her forehead. Immediately, her world silenced. She let out an audible gasp, one that felt so loud with the voices away from her head. The sound of rain pitter-pattered around her and her eyes wavered, an overwhelming emotion of “no way” arising in her heart. Her heart was thumping hard against her heart, and she felt her jaw drop open. Aaron raised a brow, the corners of his mouth stretched into a smile. Ally took a step back, disconnecting his finger from her head, and the voices came crashing in. She looked at him in disbelief. He gave an understanding smile back. Slowly, Ally took his hand in hers, sandwiching it between both of her hands. Nothing. She didn’t hear any of the surrounding people’s thoughts in her head.

“I can’t…I don’t hear anything? What? How? Did you know about this?” Ally whispered. 

Aaron nodded. “I learned about soulmates from my parents. They have something similar to this.” 

“What do they have?” 

“They can only hear each other's thoughts in the rain.”

Ally felt her mouth fall open even wider. Aaron laughed, and Ally felt it filling her chest with mirth. She fell out of her stupor and laughed alongside him, keeping her hands around his as she grabbed onto him. Unbeknownst to her, she found herself a lot closer to him than she began. Aaron did, and kept quiet. 

“Are you sixteen as well?” Ally asked. She no longer had her hands sandwiching his hands, but kept the back of her hand in contact with his. 

Aaron nodded. “I was looking for you for six years.” 

“How?” 

“We met briefly when we were six, actually.” 

“What? I didn’t find out about soulmates until ten!” 

“It’s possible you weren’t aware that this was happening to you at a younger age. I know I had a lot of imagination growing up, which led me to a couple made-up friends.” He confessed with a small smile. 

Ally pressed on, slipping her hands into his naturally. “Where did we meet? Tell me, please?” 

“We were at a beach. It’s actually the first and last time I was allowed on a public beach. My family doesn’t like to blend in with the normal people.” He placed air quotes with his free hand as he emphasized on the normal. “I didn’t really know what to do on the beach, and I just remember being hot.” Aaron turned his head to look at her. “That’s when you came with your pink bathing suit and space buns. His eyes flitted upwards to her head, and Ally self consciously squirmed. Finding out your soulmate was one thing, but realizing the implications of that for the rest of her life was still hard to wrap her head around. She was going to spend the rest of her life with him! She felt strange and a little conflicted. 

“What did we do together?” 

Aaron met her eyes as he continued, “You buried me under the sand. It was the only way to turn into a mermaid, you said.” He used his free hand to cover his mouth as he laughed. “I believed it because I thought it made sense. After burying me, you burrowed into the sand as well. I think we just laid there for a good twenty minutes before it started pouring. You grabbed my hand, and all that filled my mind, more than the sound of thunder and rain, was your thought to bring me somewhere safe. It was the only thought on your mind.” Aaron’s eyes softened as he confessed the next part, “Call me silly and naive, but I think I knew I was a goner.” 

Ally stood still, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. She felt like she had to reciprocate it, and bit her lip. What was the right thing to say? What could she say? How did she feel about this situation? She dug into herself, trying to combine the words racing in her mind, but all she could come up with was a shaky “Oh. I. Wow. That must have been some experience for you.” 

Aaron nodded. “It’s okay. It’s a lot of information to take in.” He squeezed her hand, rubbing circles on her palm with his thumb, “We can take it slow.” 

Ally pouted, her heart squeezing at the amount of patience he held for her. “You shouldn’t have to.” When she realized what that might have sounded like on the receiving end, she felt her mouth stammer out, “I mean! You waited so long already–you’re telling me you are willing to wait for longer. It just feels like you’re receiving the short end of the stick here.” 

“Ally.” Aaron leaned his head down so that their foreheads touched each other. “We have our whole lives. I think waiting until you’re absolutely certain and comfortable with me is more important than our pacing. With that said though, would you like to have dinner with my family?” 

“Oh! I would, but I have movie night with my parents…” Ally’s heart ached when she saw the way Aaron’s frame deflated at her words. He kept her hands in his even so. Ally reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and dialed her mom’s number. 

“Ally! Are you on your way home? It’s raining outside.” 

“Hi mom! Actually, I’m still at school.” She glanced at Aaron, who had moved onto massaging her hands gently with his fingers. “I have something to tell you.” 

“Good news?” 

“Good news.” She affirmed. 

“I actually found my soulmate.” 

“Really?” From faraway, she heard her dad hooting with joy. 

“Yes, mom. I’m with him right now. Would you mind if I spent some time with him instead? I know it’s movie night today, but there’s a lot we need to talk about.” 

“Honey, of course! Why don’t you invite him over to ours? We can have our movie night together!” 

Ally asked him silently with her thoughts, his affirming nod providing the answer she needed. “Okay, mom. We’ll be there later. I’ll keep you updated.” 

“Love you my honey boo.” 

“Love you, mom.” 

“You can hear my thoughts.” Ally stated. She had her few suspicions, like when Aaron reassured without her saying anything, but this confirmed it. 

“Your thoughts are the clearest in my mind.” Aaron tugged her slightly closer to him. “So, soulmate. How do you like having dinner together at mine and movie night at yours?” 

Ally smiled. “That sounds perfect, mr. soulmate!” 

– 

Dinner with the Tret family was lovely. They were all so excited to meet her. She learned that Aaron actually had an older sister, Nicole, who was four years above them, in college. His mom, Beth Rochet was a lovely lady in her sixties that attended weekly yoga sessions. She aspired to be as cool as her when she aged. Aaron’s dad, Kenneth Tret, had sharp features, which Aaron seemed to have inherited. She could tell that Kenneth loved his wife with his eyes. They were enraptured by her every word. Ally wondered if she would ever reach the same level of love with Aaron as she aged. 

Aaron never let her hand go. Ally had felt a little embarrassed with the minor PDA at her first meeting with her potential in-laws, but his parents understood after a little explaining. Of course they wanted the two to keep their hands linked. They knew how precious it was to be able to hear each other’s voices. Ally didn’t have the heart to correct them so she couldn’t hear him. Only he could hear her. Aaron was a comfort to her new change. It felt nice being able to give her sole attention to people's words instead of their thoughts. If this was how everyone had been living life, she has been missing out for a long time. 

“Your parents are really nice.” Ally commented on their ride back to her house. 

“They saw me searching for you for years. I think they’re glad to finally see you in person.” Aaron laughed. “You have no idea how happy I am to finally see you again.” His earnest eyes brought a shiver to her spine, and Ally allowed the desire to boop his nose to take over her. It brought her immense satisfaction seeing his cheeks redden in surprise. Take that! She thought to him. He playfully glared, but nuzzled into her space. Her heart stopped, and she tried to keep her thoughts empty, but all that was in her mind was a garble of deflating balloon sounds. Up close, she noticed his freckles and the way it dotted his face like constellations. He was so pretty, it was unfair she looked like a potato next to him. 

“You’re prettier in my eyes.” Aaron breathed out. Ally stiffened. Right. She forgot about him hearing her thoughts. 

When the ride stopped in front of her house, she exited the car, realizing that the rain had stopped. The two gave no acknowledgement towards the fact. Aaron waited by the front doors of her family’s house, and she casually slipped her hand into his, letting out a sigh of contentment. 

She’s so cute. 

Ally shot her eyes back to him. What was that? Why did she hear a voice? She checked her surroundings, but there was no one else but her and Aaron. She looked at Aaron. 

“Aaron, what's the happiest day of your life?” 

Images of yesterday filled her mind, and Ally bit back a gasp. 

She already knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. 

“Meeting you yesterday in the rain.” 

“I can hear you.” She mumbled dazedly. 

“Ally?” 

She pulled her hand back, apologetically looking at his concealed look of hurt. Her hands mourned the loss of warmth, and she itched to lace her fingers back with his, but she had to check.

“Aaron, what is something you want to do with me in the future?” 

She waited for the same sensations–for the same feelings to enter her mind. It was radio silent. She breathed a sigh, the soulmate magic irony of it all coming to her. She clasped her hands back with his, and immediately started to reassure him. His thoughts were a jumble of confusion, uncertainty, anxiety and joy. 

“I can hear your thoughts when it doesn’t rain. It’s the same way you can hear mine in the rain.” She explained. 

“You can hear mine in and out of the rain, but I can only hear yours when the rain has stopped. That’s what I wanted to make sure. I’m sorry. Forgive me?” She blinked her eyes innocently. 

Aaron released a relieved sigh, nodding. “Of course. I just jumped to conclusions of my own.” 

“I had to surprise you somehow. I’m at a disadvantage here. What if I want to plan you a surprise? I’m going to have to steel myself to prevent any leaks!” Ally swung their arms. 

“I’m just happy I found my soulmate at the age of 16. I think it’s the perfect time to learn, grow and plan a future together. Besides, I think you’re very good looking.” Ally smiled. 

“We’re dating from today, alright? You’re stuck with me and my thoughts whether you want to or not.” 

Aaron brushed a piece of her hair away from her face, cupping her cheeks. “Sounds like a dream to me. So what movie are we going to watch?” 

Ally’s whole body became animated as she tugged Aaron along, “You’ll see.” 

He could get used to moments like these. Aaron smiled, hoping that his thoughts would fill Ally with comfort. 

Word count: 3319

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Day 10: Another Chance

Word Count: Your protagonist is the villain in someone else’s story.

“Your kingdom’s reign ends now.” A furious voice echoed in the ballroom. 

Rosalie lay crumbled on the floor, her head spinning as she tried to recall her surroundings. Everything was too bright, and it felt like a rock was weighing down on her head. Bodies lay around her, and it took her a moment to realize that those bodies were her guards–people sworn to protect her lives to their deaths. She prayed that the stillness wasn’t a sign of death, but unconsciousness. It didn’t reassure her when she failed to see the light rises and falls of some guards’ diaphragm. 

A sharp metal appeared in her vision, and Rosalie realized with icy fear that it was a dagger pointed to kill. One that was aimed downwards at her chest. She swallowed, her mouth dry as she took in her options. There was no one around her that could save her. Everyone around her was either fallen or dead. She gave a quick glance behind the person holding the dagger and took relief in the fact that it was only them two in the ballroom. However, she could feel throbbing in her right ankle that told her that running was out of the question. 

“Surrender to me!” The same voice demanded, the dagger coming closer to her chest. Rosalie closed her eyes to gather courage, and let out a shaky breath. 

“Let me sit up, first. Please.” Rosalie pointed towards her ankle revealed under her dress, “I hurt myself. There’s no way for me to run.” She silently begged for her attacker to show an ounce of compassion. 

The dagger retracted, and Rosalie forced a small smile on her face as she slowly sat. A hand immediately went to her forehead as a strong wave of nausea almost knocked her away. She forced deeper breaths, feeling muscle pains on her back and cuts on her arm. The pink dress she picked out for, what was supposed to be, her coronation sported tears and shreds. It was a sore reminder of what the night was intended to be. 

“Why did you do this?” Rosalie cried out, eyes shaking. She clutched onto the fabric of her dress to keep her shoulders square. 

“Your kingdom ruined us in the lower classes! Resentment turned towards us for utilizing designated meal hours. Our homes were pushed to the side for newer buildings. You claimed to care about all of us, but not once did you come to ask for our opinion on big decisions made. The kingdom will rid of all royal blood, and it doesn’t matter if you’re young. There are too many young children that hide on a daily basis because of their status, and if one death is enough to change everything. I will take it gladly.” The girl–a very young girl–stepped forward, holding the dagger close to her chest as she approached Rosalie. 

Rosalie’s heart dropped, and her grip on the broken dress loosened. She understood where the girl was coming from. Her parents never allowed her to know the intricacies of the kingdom’s operations. To them, she was still a young girl that was better controlled if she knew less. It’s been in the back of her mind that maybe things were not picture perfect as it appeared on paper, but she didn’t hold the same power to instigate change. Eyes opening to meet the young girl, Rosalie bit her lip and wiped the tears betraying her eyes. 

“If my existence is the only obstacle to your goal. I give you permission to finish your goal.” 

“I don’t need permission from you! Stop putting yourself in your goody-two shoes pedestal. I loathe it.” Rosalie gave a bitter, understanding smile. 

The girl’s hand was shaking. Rosalie felt an ugly dread crawl inside her at the reality of the situation. Her parents must have failed badly if a young girl like her wanted to get rid of the royal family. The dagger was raised, and Rosalie closed her eyes, wanting to keep the trauma to a minimum. Sound ceased to exist as she focused on her beating heart. It would be beating no longer. 

A gurgled cry, a thick fabric wrapped around her head, and strong arms wrapped around her body was all she heard and felt before she was lifted into the air. Thrashing, Rosalie kicked her feet and hit the hard metal plate with her hands. She was getting kidnapped. Adrenaline pulsed through her, heart pounding wildly against her ribcage. Death didn’t sound daunting when she accepted it, but this? This was another level of fear. 

“Let me down! Who are you? Where are you taking me?” Rosalie made out through the fabric wrapped around her head. She tried wiggling her head around to loosen the fabric’s hold with no avail. The arms wrapped around her hoisted her up something, which turned out to be a horse when she recognized the sound of furious hooves. She felt her arm touching cold metal, and shivered involuntarily. 

“Grab on tight if you don’t want to fall.” The voice commanded gently. “I can’t keep my hold on you on my horse.” 

Rosalie did not need to be told twice. With the way she was tethered on the horse, she knew that it would be too easy for herself to get trampled if she lost footing on the horse. She reached blindly with her arms forward, looking for something to grab onto. A pair of arms guided her so that she was leaning fully against the metal plates with both arms wrapped loosely around it. She felt another piece of fabric lightly wrapping around her shoulders like a shawl, and she mumbled a “Thank you.” 

Between the few hours of sleep she managed to squeeze in on the day of coronation day, the sudden brawl and now, Rosalie felt the irresistible pull of sleep. Her head drooped, and she tightened her hold around the metal. 

She was asleep within minutes. 

—

When Rosalie came to, her head felt clearer. The fabric wrapped around her head had loosened considerably from the ride, and she was able to get a better grasp on the view. She kept her arms around the metal, but peeled her face back to get a better look at her kidnapper, breaking eye contact immediately when she saw the man already glancing at her. 

He looked young with dark, messy hair that barely reached his shoulders. His eyes were the same dark, navy shade that showed layers of depth. With the sun beginning to set, it made his irises appear even more alluring. Rosalie felt like she could spend hours debating the exact colors of his eyes. She loosened her hold on the metal plates–his armor around his waist–and thought how far she must have come from her kingdom. Although she was certain everyone would presume her to be dead along with her family, she felt a pang of loss at the chance of redemption for everyone. She could have been a better princess. Maybe she could have been more attentive? Participating in passing out free meals had always been something she wanted to do, but she was never given permission to step out too far and too long from her castle. 

A loud “neigh” jolted Rosalie to the present, and she used one hand to rearrange the wrapped fabric so that it only exposed her eyes. Although she felt better about getting kidnapped, she knew nothing about this person. It was better to lay a low profile than get tangled in something complicated. She could see that where she was taken to was another castle. From the looks of it, she had been taken to another kingdom as a hostage. There was nothing too reassuring about this new piece of information, but she noticed the pure joy in the civilians’ faces as they greeted their soldiers back home. At least in this kingdom, soldiers were beloved. Back home, soldiers were feared, but not respected. It was a consensus that all soldiers operated under direct command of the king. 

As the horses carrying the knights stopped in a courtyard, she heard the metal clanking against metal as men dismounted their companions. Rosalie stilled, feeling her heart beat faster with each second. 

“I’ll get down first. Hold my hand when you dismount. Chase is gentle, but he’s too tall for you to get off on your own.” 

She nodded her head, stopping when the dizziness came crashing back. Willing a frown out of her face, she waited for her knight’s hand to reach for hers. Grabbing onto it, she hopped off, wincing slightly as pain shooted out from her right ankle. She bit down on her lip and hoped that nobody noticed. Rosalie carefully distributed her weight, putting more weight on her left leg so as to not over injure the right ankle. The throbbing sensation was back, but Rosalie kept her face devoid of obvious emotions. Only anyone carefully observing her would have noticed the small grunts and the beads of sweat that formed, but years of being a “perfect princess” made it easier to slip into a role of perfect ease. 

As Rosalie was taken into the castle, she noticed how much grander everything was. She had never felt like her kingdom was poor because they’ve been an important trading partner, but this kingdom was on another scale. Gold statues embezzled all windows and the wallpapers glittered with the setting sun. Rosalie couldn’t help but admire the beauty of everything–and the chandeliers! The crystals created small drops of rainbow throughout the hallway. It reminded her of the small reading nook she had made in her room. 

Two maids grabbed open the doors to a room, and Rosalie found herself alone with the knight that saved her life. No longer did she think she was kidnapped, but intercepted. At least, that’s what she wanted to believe. There was no way she was receiving this treatment as a war hostage. 

“I’ll have a bath prepared for you.” He spoke, taking off his gloves and reaching for the armor. Rosalie watched, wordlessly, both hands clenched into a loose fist. Nodding, she slid the bathroom doors open, letting the maids take control over her as they undressed her and led her to the tub. It felt really, really nice. Rosalie felt all the tension leave her body as she slid deeper into the tub, stretching her legs along the bottom. She noticed a maid standing by her and wondered if this was the norm for this kingdom or if this was a way for someone to keep watch on her. It wouldn’t matter much; she couldn’t be a big threat. 

A good hour later, Rosalie left the cooler water, feeling much more refreshed. She thanked Sylvene, the maid, and slid on the nightgown given to her. It was made of soft material, and had a modest design. With long sleeves and a u-shaped neckline, the ends of the gown hit her knees, which made her want to twirl. Stepping back into the bedroom, Rosalie saw that the knight had also changed into night clothes. The relaxed cotton shirt clung onto his form, bringing a slight blush into Rosalie’s cheeks as she sneaked appreciative glances. His hair was damp, and she caught a whiff of mint as she approached him. Realizing that a proper thank you was in order, Rosalie began walking closer to him, trying her best to conceal the slight limp. He noticed and came to her instead, bringing her to a stop. 

“I don’t know your name, but I want to thank you for saving my life.” Her eyes watered against her better judgement and she cursed her emotional outburst internally. 

“I thought I was going to die today.” She quietly admitted. The knight’s hand twitched, but he stayed still as he allowed her to feel the depths of her emotions. 

“I’ve never been held so close to a blade. I didn’t understand the realities of external turmoil and lived life trapped in a case. I’m so sorry to the people I left behind and everyone I disappointed by running away from my problems. My kingdom should rejoice that their incompetent princess disappeared as an aftermath.” She bitterly spat out, swiping her tears with the palm of her hands.  

“You are not incompetent.” The knight insisted. 

Rosalie gave a look of disbelief. “You don’t know me. I didn’t do anything to placate my people’s resentment towards the royal family.” 

He lowered his eyes, bringing his hands close to her hands. Bringing his palms against hers, he spoke, “You are a strong princess that stood her ground until the very end. A part of your compassion helped the young girl you were facing realize that not all royalty is evil. You aren’t incompetent, but misunderstood. There was no opportunity for people to see you for who you are.

She saw the earnesty in his eyes as he expressed his observations to her. Rosalie smiled. 

“I still don’t know your name.” 

“Louis Cheval.” He smiled. “I haven’t been fully introduced to you, either, princess.” 

She blushed, “My name is Rosalie Jardin.” 

“You’re named after a rose garden?” Louis raised his brow in humor. 

“My parents loved rose gardens.” She fondly recalled. “They said it brought their castle beauty and peace.” 

“They weren’t wrong.” Louis softly commented. Rosalie smiled. 

“Would you sit down on the bed?” 

Rosalie looked between him and the enormous bed in front of her. Thoughts filled her mind and she awkwardly took a step back, hobbling away.

“I-we-wha? Y-you want me on the b-bed? It’s okay. Really! You can take the b-bed. I’m sure the couch over–” She whipped her head around, “There! That one will be enough for me. Hehe…” Rosalie groaned in awkwardness. 

“Princess, don’t think I was going to leave your ankle unattended.” Louis took a couple steps toward her and easily picked her up bridal style, earning a squeak from her. Her arms looped around his neck and she huddled close to him to feel his warmth. 

“It’s fine. Really.” Rosalie insisted weakly, heat filling her up in seconds. The effect this man had on her was really unusual. She’s had her fair share of suitors courting her, but none ever made her feel this overwhelmed. 

Louis sucked in a sharp breath, prompting Rosalie to stop her excuses. Standing up, he brought over a bowl of water, a towel and ointment from the bedside table and reached for her foot. Rosalie curled her toes, feeling shy. 

“I’ll be gentle. Just relax, princess.” 

Rosalie tried her best to do just that. Except, there was one thing she overlooked. 

“Stop squirming around, princess!” Louis let out an exasperated sigh, tightening his hold on her ankles. 

“It–I’m just ticklish! Stop, please!” Rosalie wheezed out. She was trying her best to loosen Louis’ grip around her, but he was so strong. Eventually, she flopped onto the bed, kicking herself onto the right side of the bed, which still left a lot of space. She released a contented sigh, and felt Louis reaching for her ankle to apply ointment. Rosalie relished in the soft touches a lot more than she would like to have admitted. For a man accustomed to brute conflict, he was really careful with her. She peered at the look of concentration on his face and his furrowed brows and felt a gush of appreciation come over her. Sitting up, she felt Louis move his hands away as she scooched herself closer to him. Rosalie bit her lip, uncertainty coming over her as she thought of her next move. 

Screwing consequences, Rosalie embraced her urges and wrapped her small arms around his frame, bringing herself closer to him so that they were chest to chest. His minty scent was even stronger from this distance. 

“Thank you, my knight Louis.” She squeezed tighter, “I am forever indebted to you, it seems.” 

His hand wrapped around hers as he held on tight, “Of course, princess. I’m glad you’re safe.” 

The two would spend hours conversing, only to find that they were a lot more similar than previously assumed. 

Word count: 2694

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Day 9: Reflecting Me

Writing Prompt: Your character’s reflection starts to act on its own. What do they do?

It was one thing being clumsy, but it was another thing finding out your reflection had free will. 

Stella stared at the girl dancing in front of her in the mirror, figuring out the best way to process this new revelation. Her in the mirror wore the same maroon sweatshirt hand woven by her, and had on black denim jeans to go with her ankle boots. It shouldn’t have shocked her that much; this was her after all. She just didn’t know what to do with this. Was her reflection restricted to the realm of mirrors? Did she appear if she stood in front of a reflective glass? She hadn’t tried to communicate with her counterpart. It seemed a little strange just watching herself do random things. 

A small tap sounded from the mirror and Stella broke out of her daze. 

“And now she’s writing something.” She leaned forward to make out the words on the post it note, a part of her curious of this newfound friend…ship? 

What are we eating later? 

Stella smiled, trust herself to ask about food first. Of course that was the first thing she looked for in the morning. 

“I have classes, you know. We’ll eat after that. What about pho?” 

She could practically hear her counterpart yell out in joy. Stella knew better; pho was her favorite food, after all. 

The day went on with Stella occasionally feeling a tingle in her head whenever her reflection communicated. She learned as the day went on that her reflection was not limited to the full-length mirror back home. It took an unassuming look in the puddle on the floor to shock her out of that preexisting thought. 

Seemed like her reflection had a tendency to keep herself well entertained with silly moves and expressions. 

It did keep Stella in a better mood, which has been a struggle after her period began. Finding her reflection became a game for the rest of the day, which kept her excited. Her friend noticed the way she couldn’t peel her eyes away from reflective surfaces, and opened her mouth, which made Stella think she wanted to comment on it, but her friend let her go. 

Her reflection stayed with her for a full week, and though Stella was never able to figure out the reasoning behind the sudden change in her routine, she liked to think that it was fate’s way of telling her that life could throw funny things at you when you least expected it. 

She found that looking at herself in the mirror was fun because she envisioned the way her reflection would shimmy as she got dressed. That, or the way her mirror would fill up with post-it notes because her reflection could only communicate in that way left a fond memory of her college years. Even in adulthood, she would experience some visits from her reflection, and her counterpart would do her usual improved silly dances to keep her uplift. The spontaneity of it all kept Stella going, and she eventually would tell her children about how she became to love herself because of her reflection. 

Word Count: 522

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Day 8: Coming to Stay

Writing Prompt: A character can relive a memory, but it’s not as perfect as they remember.

“Welcome to the afterlife.” 

Cora felt her body stiffen as the deep voice reverberated against her chest. She slowly turned around, and found herself faced with a tall, built, hooded figure. It gave her the creeps keeping her eye on its face, which was hard to see with the big hood. In the figure’s hand was a scythe that made her insides writhe; all she wanted to do was scurry away from it. 

“You have one chance to relive a single memory for a chance of resuscitation.”

She blinked, her mind a whirl as she processed the piece of information. 

“I can go back? Why?” 

“It’s the rules of the afterlife. Your soul may have separated from your body, but everyone is given the chance to try at life again.”

The hooded man lowered the scythe so that the tip lay pointed on the floor. “It is your decision to make. If you’re content with your death, you can stay for the next cycle of life.” 

Cora combed through her memories, mouth biting her fingernails. “Okay. I got it. What do I do now?” 

“Envision it with every inch of your soul. Let it fill you. The rest will happen on its own.” 

Her first solo trip to the Seine came to her mind, and she focused all her senses on curating the image of it in her mind. She had been holding onto a big baguette like a true tourist, which had garnered her some peculiar looks, but she paid them no mind. Cora fell deeper into the memory. 

Then she was there. She was sitting by the Seine with a piece of baguette in her hand. Finding it hard to believe this was all real, Cora took a bite of her baguette, eyes watering with amazement as the taste of it filled her mouth. This was all real. She had come back. Somehow. The inner workings of this phenomenon was still hard to wrap her mind around because there was no rationale behind it, but she was not going to complain. She had one chance to live her life again. Her mind traced the hooded figure’s words. A chance of resuscitation? Cora wondered how that would be given. 

She had missed this life. The one that came before corporate life. It was so easy to overlook moments like these for the money she earned in office. There had been so many logistical things she had to get out of the way, which, in hindsight, hadn’t been worth it. As Cora looked at the people walking, dancing, eating together by the Seine, a part of her came to regret the way she prioritized others' perception of her. She should have dedicated more time exposing herself to new sights to clear her mind and take better care of her people. 

Someone started playing the violin, and Cora recognized it as a soundtrack from her favorite animation movie: How To Train Your Dragon. A pang of nostalgia hit her. She could see herself bouncing up from bed to open Christmas presents from her parents. Her first plushie would be of Toothless. As the strings vibrated their tune, she thought about all the times she turned to the movie for comfort on her rough days. Hearing it here was a new experience, and Cora realized that something was different about the memory. It wasn’t the perfect way she remembered it–things were changing. It was as if the new experience had a different chess player. What used to be her “perfect rendition” of her experience no longer was so, instead, it was a new one. She didn’t really mind, though. There was something nice about viewing everything from her thirties’. Well, legally, she was still twenty-two-years-old, but that's besides the point. 

Putting her baguette beside her, she found her eyes settling on a lone man twirling a rose in his hands while putting his arms on the railings by the water. His hooked nose was sharp, and provided a nice balance with his hooded eyes. They were so bright and glazed with thought, Cora found it hard to look away. He looked to be in his mid twenties, wearing a dark grey slim-cut blazer over a ivory-colored crisp button-down shirt. This was paired with black trousers that complimented his tall figure. He wore the same white sneakers that she was wearing, which surprised her. The possibilities of that happening was slim, especially when she knew how hidden this brand was. She looked at the rose in his hands and wondered what story he had in him, waiting to be told. Looking down at her gold watch, she figured she had nothing to lose. If the hooded figure allowed one full day of reliving her memory, she was going to make the most out of it by being bold. 

She was just about hyping herself to head to the man when she saw a group of girls flocking over to him. Cora paused, assessing the sight in front of her. The man had a polite smile on his face, and humored them, the rose now held on his right hand as he gestured with his left. Taking deep breaths, Cora closed her eyes, praying that she was not going to make a stupid mistake and strode over to them, her baguette hugged close to her chest. She was being so rash, it drove her heart crazy.

“Honey, did you wait long for me?” Cora confidently asked, brown eyes meeting green as she silently begged the beings above to be on her side. The group of girls stopped their conversation and parted to give her a cold look. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it in time. I tried to get here as fast as I could, but I got held up trying to pick the right outfit.” She was rambling by this point, but she pushed herself to keep going: “You look dashing as always.” That was the truth. A part of her hoped that he wasn’t taken or that his partner wasn’t due for arrival because this was going to go down as the most embarrassing moment of her life. 

“Do we know you?” A girl from the group asked, a trace of ice in her tone. 

“Yes, I’m Cora Vuet.” The girl continued to stare. Cora gazed to see the man looking at her with curiosity and amusement, and she looked away, back at the girl. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you acquainted with my boyfriend?” 

The man’s eyes twinkled, and Cora willed her eyes to ignore it from her peripheral vision. 

“We thought he was single and wanted his number. Guess we can’t.” With a scoff and groan, the girls dispersed and left the two alone. Cora sighed, hands loosening around her baguette and leaned against the railing. 

Thank goodness. 

“Why so late, darling?” A velvety voice teased. 

Cora looked up. “I was getting a baguette?” She weakly offered. 

The man laughed. It was a nice sound. “Wasn’t aware that I had a girlfriend.”

“Then why the rose in your hand?” She asked with a smile.

“I was gifted one. Just didn’t know what to do with it.” He shrugged. 

“So, Cora.” The man turned so that his face was facing her while his back was now against the railing. “What brought on the sudden interaction?” 

Cora wondered how much of this was real. Did memories disappear for the person if she failed to satisfy the criteria for a new life? Not for the first time, she wished she had time to ask the hooded figure how exactly all of this was supposed to work. Cora bit her lip. But if she had known, she wouldn’t have made these choices. 

“I have a day to live this life.” Cora honestly told him. He looked shocked and stopped twirling the rose stem around with his fingers. “There wasn’t anything worse to lose than my life, so I figured I’d just give a stab there.” Cora bit into her baguette, chewing thoughtfully. After swallowing, she asked, “What’s your name? Honey boo?”  

The man wrinkled his nose with his eyes narrowed, but didn’t look offended. “The name is Liam Delacroix babe.” Cora laughed hearing his drawn out term of endearment. His look then resembled concern, “Why do you have one day to live? I hope you don’t mind me asking this.” 

“It’s a deal I made with the people up there.” Cora pointed towards the sky. “It likely sounds crazy, but I’m actually already dead. My memory doesn’t tell me much, but I am pretty sure I passed away at a young age. I’ve just been given a chance to relive my favorite memory, which was my time in France. I figured if I come back, I could enjoy all the small things that made me happy to leave with no regrets. There are ways for me to permanently come back, but I don’t have much information about that. Thank you for allowing me to humor you. This was not as difficult as I thought it would be.” She smiled softly. 

A hand on her shoulder shocked Cora enough to tilt her head up to meet Liam’s eyes. “I’m glad I met you.” 

Liam looked away, an uncertain look in his eyes, “Could I treat you to dinner? Consider this a symbol of trust between us. I promise to bring you back here before it’s too late.” 

Cora nodded, and Liam beamed, sliding an arm into hers to lead the way. Cora enjoyed it more than she should have. Already, she was filled with apprehension. Somehow she had caught feelings for this guy. A person that wouldn’t remember she existed once she left. She pushed the emotions down. Things were moving too fast for her to say this was a crush. There was barely anything she knew about Liam, but the unexplainable feeling of safety that enveloped her as she kept her arms by his side perturbed her. It felt right. Liam matched her pace as he led her to a cozy restaurant a couple blocks away. She left the menu up to him, and she watched the way he interacted with everyone around him. It was a plus to see him using fluent French. 

“Do you come here often?” Cora asked. 

“I used to come here with my family when I was younger.” Liam smiled. He let out a nervous smile before proceeding, “It was an anniversary event kind of thing.” 

Cora sensed a but following the sentence, but wasn’t sure if she had the right to ask. Liam seemed to see the turmoil in her eyes because he nodded gently to affirm her suspicions true. Cora felt the corner of her mouth turn down, and she reached for his arm on the table, patting it. Liam placed his hand on hers, and she savored the warmth radiating off of his palms. Words weren’t needed for a while until food was served. 

This was the most fun Cora had on a solo trip. She barely remembered how she spent the last one by herself. Liam was a gentleman, which she already knew. No man would have held a rose by the Seine river. 

“That’s why you stood out to me, you know?” Cora admitted. A hand supported her cheek. She’s also had a couple of wines, which made her feel tipsy. It tempted her to become more vulnerable. The candle that the servers lit as the sun set set a more ambient atmosphere, and she felt more alone with Liam, even though she was surrounded by other tables. 

“You looked like you had a story to tell with those eyes and red rose in your fingers.” Cora reached out to trace Liam’s eyes in the air. “It mesmerized me.” Her fingers landed close to his lips, and she heard Liam take in a shaky breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this openly smitten by anyone in a long while.” 

That was the truth. Being in her thirties hasn't provided her with more time to pursue people. She always needed more time to herself so that she could grow her career. How silly had she been. Cora smiled bittersweetly, her hands cupping Liam’s jaw. Her thumb tracing circles on his cheeks. 

“I wish I had more time with you,” she confessed, pulling her hand away from his face. Liam was quick to keep her hand in place so that he was now supporting her limp hand. 

“Me too,” Liam whispered. His eyes desperately peered into hers, “I wish I had more time to spend with you, too. I’ve never wanted a family or a partner, Cora.” To Cora’s surprise, tears had sprung into his eyes. “Losing my parents scarred me from all of that. You’re the first woman that I feel safe around.” Cora wiped his tears away before they fell. She sniffled. “I can actually imagine a lifetime with you. I don’t want to lose you. Call me crazy for feeling this much for a woman I just met a couple hours ago, but I can’t lose you.” 

“Liam…” Cora trailed off, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to give him false promises of a future with her, but she could tell him this: “All I know is that you won’t remember me after tonight. You’ll find someone like me and do everything you want with me with her. I trust that you will find happiness with someone else.” At Liam’s insistent denial, her eyes softened, “You will find love again, Liam. I promise. This dream will just show you the possibility of falling in love. It will be a goal you seek for in life once I’m gone.” She reached forward to caress the other side of his face, and she leaned forward to press a light kiss on his forehead. Sitting back down, it melted her heart when she saw him looking back, awestruck. She lightly smudged away traces of her lip gloss with a smile, and asked for the check from the server. 

Once outside, Cora knew she had to take her leave soon. Though she was unsure whether or not she would be able to come back to the same life, she didn’t want to risk letting herself hope. So when she pressed a kiss onto Liam’s lips, she gave her all into it, the knowledge of this being their last weighing her down. Her fingers dug into his hair as she pressed herself into him, giving him all signals that she was as reluctant and unwilling as he was. He tilted his head to deepen his kiss into her, and she felt her knees buckle. 

“Liam. Liam.” She moaned in between his kisses. He groaned as he peppered kisses down her neck. 

“Liam, I have to go now.” She let out weakly. Liam responded by tightening his hold around her waist. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Liam.” Cora felt tears accumulating in her eyes. “I can’t promise you that I’ll be back, but I want to thank you for tonight. You are wonderful.” Liam paused, his eyes burning a hole into hers as he brought his face into the crook of her neck so that he was burrowed into her. 

“Thank you, too.” Liam whispered. “You changed me tonight. I really hope to see you again.” He left another kiss on her mouth and loosened his hold around her. She gently stepped out of it, brushing her sleeves and tucking loose strands behind her ear. 

“Me too, Liam.” 

With a gasp, Cora felt her soul elevating back. With a blink of an eye, she was back, facing the hooded figure. She couldn’t help the tears that flowed down her cheeks and the raw hurt in her heart as the reality of her situation set in again. 

“I failed, didn’t I.” 

The hooded figure looked at her wordlessly. 

She shifted, clasping her hands together. “Can you say something?” 

A long silence followed. 

“I’m sending you back.” 

Cora felt her eyes widen. 

“Back? Back to Liam?” 

Too many questions were swirling in her head. 

“Does this mean I can live? I passed the test? Wait–I don’t understand. What did I do to pass?” 

When she blinked next, she found herself back in Liam’s house. Precisely, in his bedroom. 

She let out a gasp, hands shaking as she pulled out her phone. It read 9 a.m. 

Muffling her cries of joy, Cora thanked the hooded figure for allowing her to stay, and watched the man she met last night sleep. 

He was overjoyed to realize it wasn’t a dream.  Word Count: 2773

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Day 7: The Joys in Life

Writing Prompt: A thief steals only things that hold sentimental value. What do they steal and why?

“Mrs. Illes, I’m afraid Chrissy has stolen another one of her classmate’s belongings.”

Chrissy stood, her eyes on the shiny gold necklace she had in her hands. It belonged to Jasmine, the smartest kid in her year. The way light reflected off the material mesmerized her. The reason she took it was simple. Jasmine seemed to cherish the necklace. She had babbled about it being a gift from her grandmother. It sparked an ugly jealousy in her that Chrissy didn’t know how to control. None of her relatives had given her gifts. She hadn’t been able to meet them. Her mom had told her it was because everyone had their own lives to live, but it didn’t seem like that stopped Jasmine’s extended family from visiting her. 

Her mom had tried to lecture her, but it was the same repertoire. Chrissy didn’t really listen, and her mom was aware, too. Chrissy had to return the necklace to Jasmine with an apology that she didn’t really mean. It was unfair. Why couldn’t she just receive love from her family members? It really couldn’t be that hard. 

That’s how Chrissy found herself now. Stealing has become second nature, and she has gotten really comfortable with doing it. This time, it was a bracelet from a classmate that shared the same table. It was easy to unhook the clasp while grabbing on to their arm. Chrissy didn’t have hard feelings toward her classmate; she just wanted to see where the value came from. Being a college student gave her more freedom to make decisions, and take a look at people’s things closer up. This bracelet had several charms on it, which intrigued Chrissy. From her experience stealing other people’s bracelets, charm bracelets held more sentimental value because many carried charms that were customizable. This classmate’s bracelet held a silver paw, a blue ball of yarn, a dainty london tower, and a pink tulip. Chrissy took in the way the charms were placed, and vaguely connected it to the classmate’s background. All of this was learned during the icebreaker on the first day of school, and Chrissy had stored this information in her mind so that she could make use of it. 

Her classmate sent a group message later that evening asking if anyone had seen her bracelet. Along with her text message was a photo of the charm bracelet, and Chrissy felt a part of her rejoice at the classmates’ obvious desperation to find it. She had long given up on seeking such circumstances on herself after her mom passed away. There wasn’t any one she could rely on to give her happy memories, so she took refuge on these moments of stealing. When the item went missing for somebody, there was a reason for her to feel needed. It was messed up, and Chrissy was aware that this was not normal. But, she couldn’t stop. Blame it on the lack of love or validation. She wanted to be needed. She felt important and sought after. 

Word Count: 503

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Day 6: Unexpected Gift

Writing Prompt: A stranger knows more about your character than they should. What’s going on?

The decision to leave the house has never bit her back in the butt as much as this instance. She should have taken it as a sign when her usual order ran out early in the morning–what kind of cafe ran out of matcha powder on a Monday morning? The second sign should have been when her long trench coat was caught on the handles of the cafe door, which caused a button to rip out. And now, this. There was an old grandma that refused to let her arm go–oh believe her, she had tried. She just couldn’t get her arms out from the grandma’s iron grip. Who was she anyway? 

“You are coming with me.” The grandma croaked, pulling Via into a narrow alleyway. Oh hell no. Via struggled to take her arm out while the grandma gripped on impossibly tighter to keep her in place. 

“What the hell are you doing? Let me go you crazy!” Via growled, digging her heels into the floor to ground herself. It seemed to work for a bit. Until the grandma began pushing her weight forward. Now it was Via’s struggle to not let her crash onto the ground. In a split second decision, Via stopped putting her weight onto her heel and let the grandma’s weight pull the both of them onto the floor. Through the throbs that were felt on various parts of her body, Via pulled herself up with immense speed and ran back to the main street, maintaining a safe distance. The grandma lay there on the floor, unmoving, and Via felt doubts creeping into her mind. 

“Hello?” She shouted. “You have got to be joking. That is not going to work on me.” The grandma continued laying still. Via groaned, pushing a hand into her hair. “Please tell me I did not unintentionally commit murder on an old lady,” she whined, panicking slightly. Via whipped her phone out of her jean pockets and dialed 911, finger hovering over the “call” button. Flicking her eyes back up, she released a relieved sigh when she saw movement, but stayed where she was at. She was not making the same mistake of helping the grandma again. 

“Via Hoff. Age 26. Currently working as a fashion marketer at Gloww. Co. Single living in a studio.”

Via clenched her fists and felt her shoulders clench. Her eyes narrowed, and keeping her voice steady, she blurted out, “How do you know all of that? Why do you know my name?” 

The grandma picked herself up from the floor, brushing off debris stuck to her clothes. Standing, she took a step towards Via, which prompted her to take a cautionary step back. 

“You’re well known in the neighbourhood,” was all Via got, which brought a frown to her face. 

“What do you mean? I’m not an influencer or a celebrity. Why would I be well known in my neighbourhood? I don’t even know everyone on my floor.” 

“People talk about you. You’re a beauty!” 

Okay. Weird. Via shook her head, “Still doesn’t explain you trying to kidnap me, you old lady.” 

“I want to set you up with someone.” 

Via felt her eyes widen. What? 

“Oh no. Nope. Nuh uh. Nada. Never.” She animatedly waved her index finger at the grandma. 

“I like being single.” Via paused. “I also have no reason to trust your judgement. Just because you did background research on me doesn’t give me any leverage in doing things your way.”

“It’s my grandson!” The grandma added on. She hobbled over to Via, leaning against the alleyway wall to keep her balance steady. “He wants to meet you.” 

Via glared at the grandma. “And you couldn’t have asked me to–oh, I don’t know–just go on a date with him like a normal person would?” 

The grandma had the decency to look sheepish. “I apologize. I knew you had a busy day ahead of you so I needed to let you see him at the very least before your next meeting.”

Via pinched her nose bridge with the tips of thumb and index finger. “Old lady, I understand the intention behind it, but you can’t just drag someone out. That’s violating me. Ask like any other person, and I would be open to giving anyone my time. You just had to ask.” 

Raising her left arm to check the time on her wrist, Via begrudgingly dug in her purse for a napkin and pen. Scribbling her phone number on it, she handed it to grandma. 

“Tell your grandson to text me. I’ll give him a chance to prove himself.” 

“Thank you, kind lady. I’ll be sure to pass the message along to him.” 

Later that evening, Via was spending quality time with her golden, Kissy, when her phone buzzed. Peering at the screen, she saw a message, and closed her eyes. While she had agreed to the grandma, did she really want to trust her judgement? “What do you think, Kissy-missy?” Kissy yawned on her, eliciting a giggle from Via. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to see it.” She reached for her phone. 

Unknown number: Hello Via. I received your number from my grandma today. First, I sincerely apologize. She’s been setting me up with different women because she’s sick of my lonely ass, and you were her next victim. I would wholeheartedly understand if you find yourself disgusted and violated. I would be too. 

Via snorted. Now that was an understatement. Who would’ve known that a granny would have had that much strength in her? 

Unknown number: It would make me feel a lot better if I can meet you in person and apologize. Really, I know how insistent my grandma can be. Would you like a matcha from The Beans? It will be my apology gift to you. 

Via: I am open to accepting your apology, but I’m not sure I’d want to go with a stranger. You haven’t told me your name :)

Unknown number: Arghh sorry. You’re right, you’re right. Name is Owen. Owen Levi. 

Via: Nice to know you. Are you free tomorrow? I have space in the morning for coffee.

Owen: Yes, of course. Thank you Via. I’ll see you tomorrow at 9 am in front of The Beans. 

Via: Sounds good. Good night Owen. 

Owen: Good night Via. Sweet dreams. 

Via scrunched her nose, the weight of what she did settling into her. 

“Kissy, I have a first date tomorrow.” Her mind raced to the clothes in her closet, “What do people even wear to dates? On a first date?” Groaning, Via leaped up from her couch after gently pushing Kissy from her chest, making her way to her closet. 

After thirty minutes, Via was feeling pretty satisfied with her outfit choices. She was wearing a maroon turtleneck dress with knee high boots and black sheer stockings. On the outside, she would wear her black trench coat. Though she tried telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal, the slight excitement rushing through her body told her otherwise. She had always wondered what an adult courtship would look like, and she was about to find out tomorrow morning. Hanging up her clothes on a clothing rack, Via plopped into her bed, Kissy was already hogging half of it, and fell asleep. 

In the morning, Via was in a better mood. The butterflies in her stomach refused to stay put, and she was humming as she got herself ready. It was a good sign that she felt excited about this date…right? Via curled her hair and sprayed her favorite citrus perfume, gave herself a full look using the closet mirror and headed out. 

The walk wasn’t long, so she put on her earphones as she walked over. Passerbys wore expressions of joy as they bathed in the long awaited sun. Ever since fall came along, the days have been becoming shorter and the sunlight has become scarce. Via wasn’t a huge fan of summer, but she did have days when she physically lacked vitamin d. As “The Beans” came into view, she eyed the surrounding people, looking for anyone that may be called an Owen. It was a little too late when she realized neither of them knew what each other looked like last night, but Via guessed there was always the fun in spontaneity. So far, there was no one that was waiting in front of the cafe. 

Via stopped at a crosswalk, keeping her eyes near the doors. She turned her head to her side, and caught a tall man’s eyes. Awkwardly, she gave a small smile, facing the front to cross the road when the light turned green. Her mind stayed fixated on the eyes she met earlier–dark brown like her favorite chocolate bar from godiva. 

I should buy one before heading back home. 

Now directly by the cafe, Via took a look by the doors, and noticed a familiar set of eyes watching her. Via gasped, mouth agape, and pointed a finger up and down the man. 

“Owen…?” 

“Via Hoff? 

There is no way this is happening to me right now. How is this man single? He looks like he would have snagged a lot of girls since a baby!  

Owen bent his knees slightly to wave his hands in front of the frozen woman. An amused smile was on his face as he internally released a breath he didn’t realize was held. 

“Shall we head inside?” He offered. 

Stump out of her stupor, Via straightened her back, withdrew her hands tight against her sides and stiffly nodded before walking into the cafe. Owen followed, catching a whiff of her citrus perfume. She smelled really nice. He cocked his head to the side. Was that weird?

Via looked at the menu, drumming her fingers anxiously on her thigh. “What’s your usual order?” 

“An americano.” 

She pulled a face at him, to which he laughed. “What do you normally get?” 

“A matcha latte.” 

Owen pulled his wallet out of his pocket, naming the two orders to the woman at the counter. Once received, they waited by the counter, only moving to the seats when the drinks were finished. 

“Thanks for agreeing to see me today, Via. I really want to apologize again about my grandmother. She’s pretty insistent.” 

Via took a sip of her matcha and laughed, crossing her legs. “I called her crazy.” 

Owen dropped his gaze, hands wrapped around his americano, “Again, I am so, so sorry.” 

Via put her matcha down, asking the burning question in her mind, “Can I ask why?” 

“Why?” Owen echoed back. Via nodded. “Why is she so insistent on finding you girls by dragging them back to you?” 

“She uh. It all started when she realized I was the only one single amongst my friends. It didn’t really bother me, being single. But I guess my grandma felt bad. She said being insistent was the only way to see some results. In her own way, she was also testing to see which girls would be willing to deal with her eccentric…personality.” 

“Fair enough. She still gave me a heart attack when she grabbed on like a koala to a tree.” 

She knew she should stop rubbing it in his face, but the way he grimaced and looked away apologetically was cute. His light blush splattered across his cheeks made it even harder to resist teasing him a little more. 

“Have you ever gone on dates with previous girls?” 

He shook his head, which caused his brown hair to move with his head. “I think they blocked me before I could explain. Again, I don’t blame them, which makes me wonder.” He leaned forward from across, “What made you agree? I don’t think knowing what my grandma was like would have helped with the decision.” 

“I was just curious. I’ve never been on a date before.” Hearing this, Owen’s eyes enlarged. He crossed his arms and moved back, “That can’t be true.” 

Vera looked at him, wondering if he was playing with her or not. “It is. I’ve never been on a date. No one ever asked me out as their girlfriend.” 

“But you’re so attractive.” Owen spluttered out, hands covering his mouth as he processed what he said. A steady red painting over his face again, he added, “Anyone can tell that you’re charismatic and objectively beautiful.” 

“Thank you Owen.” Vera smiled, feeling warm in her chest. “Unfortunately, I’ve been told that I have an attitude that makes it difficult for people to approach me.” 

“I still think you’re an amazing person already.” Owen bashfully stated back. 

The two held eye contact as they soaked in the reality of their predicament. A girl forced on this blind date by a stubborn grandma. A boy who just wanted a chance for someone to listen to his apologies. It was comforting the way they found themselves at ease with one another despite this being their first meeting. 

Via knew she wanted to learn more. Owen was certain she was the only one for him. The only thing they needed was more time, which Via, unfortunately, did not have today. Reluctantly, Via rose from her seat, her finished match cup in hand. 

“I need to head to work. It was really nice meeting you Owen.” 

“Likewise.”

“I’d like to meet you again. Are you free tomorrow?” Via pressed her luck. 

His eyes lit up. “Of course. I will text you?” 

“Yes, you can text me. Let’s decide on where to go tomorrow.” 

“It’s a date.” Owen’s eyes twinkled. 

“It’s a date.”

Word Count: 2263

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Day 5: Clutching onto Change

Writing Prompt: A character makes a wish, but it doesn’t turn out as expected.

“You sure you want this wish child?” Cindra yawned, closing her cerulean blue eyes. 

“Y-yes.” 

Cindra gave her a look. “And you’re aware of the consequences that come with making this sort of wish right.” 

Les nodded. 

“Well. I’ll do that then. When you open your eyes again, you’ll be surrounded with new friends and a new life.” 

“O-okay.” 

With that, the world turned dark again. When Les opened her eyes, she was surrounded by people she'd never met, but she somehow knew who they were. It was like a set of memories had been handed to her. 

“Les, we are going to do girls night the night before prom. I still cannot believe that Paul asked you out to be his partner.” Charlotte chattered. 

If Les’ wide eyes were an indicator of her shock, no one–her friends didn’t mention it. She was going to prom with Paul? Before she made her wish, she’d never interacted with him. The only information she really had was that he had been Charlotte’s prom partner. She wasn’t sure what Cindra’s power had done in terms of interpreting her wish, but Les had a feeling that things had become slightly out of her control– where had Plara gone? She willed her mind to come back to the present. All of this shouldn’t matter, especially now that she knew she would no longer be alone. She had friends that cared about her–that wanted to be around her because she was popular. 

“I’m still not believing it too, Char.” Les replied, adding a bashful look into her face. “I never thought that he’d ask me out.” The truth was half-mixed, but the giggles brought out from her friends told her that it was the right response. 

“You two are going to be so cute tomorrow. Now let’s go home.” 

Les didn’t remember the last time she laughed this much with a group of people. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t naturally gifted in the social department. Picking up social cues had been a difficult task. Part of it was because she was introverted, but she had severe insecurities over her dimples. It shouldn’t have gotten under her skin, but the way someone offered her a backhanded compliment about having craters on her face didn't sit well with young her. Ever since, she forced herself to stop smiling. It didn’t hit her then that refusing to show emotion would frame her as the faceless girl in highschool. But, surrounded by her friends, she felt a sense of belonging she craved. 

“I think red lipstick will look better.” Charlotte placed a tube of lipstick next to Les’ lips. 

“Personally, I’m going with the purple dress.” Jess was telling Trisha. “Got to represent my favorite color with pride.” 

Trisha nodded, adding on, “Your gold earrings with that dress would look amazing. Don’t you think Les?” 

“Yes, it would bring out your best features,” Les affirmed with a thumbs up. 

Les mindlessly scrolled on social media, surprised to see that she had accumulated more than a thousand followers. Her account was also made public, and was a photo of herself in a blue sundress that accentuated her waist and brown hair. From there, she took a tour of her own posts, realizing just how well-liked she was by her peers. It was strange how much of it contrasted her previous life. She had a profile picture that she looked beautiful and vibrant in. Memories of taking the photo were in her, but Les felt detached from the emotions of it all. It was as if she was watching a documentary on someone else’s life, but the main protagonist was her. 

It was strange, all of this. Les was happy, but a part of her wondered who paid the price Cindra promised. Was all of her happiness worth it for someone else’s downfall? Even if she had no personal connections to them? 

Les wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to find out. So she let it be. A chance at this new life didn’t come around often, and she was hell going to make up for all the lost time wallowing in self-pity and insecurity. She was going to own up to this newfound popularity and live out her best life with her new best friends and potential boyfriend. 

Word Count: 717

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Day 4: Doubt

Writing Prompt: You receive a letter dated ten years from now, written in your own handwriting, warning you not to trust someone you love

“To younger Saph: I’m saving you years of your life, so please listen to what I have to say in this letter.” 

Well, this was definitely what she expected when she opened up the mailbox. The last time she touched a letter was back in senior year of highschool, and those were filled with only good memories. There was nothing better than receiving promotional material from elite colleges that stoked one’s ego. 

“Leave the man.” 

She flicked her right eyebrow, but continued reading, 

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking, Saph. Who are you to tell me I should leave? Ten years from now, you are going to file for a messy and miserable divorce with Dave because he is a lying piece of shit. Do yourself a favor and save yourself the heartbreak by leaving the man. Don’t question me, please, I just want you to avoid living in this hellhole. You don’t owe him an explanation on why you’re leaving. You need to make sure you move out and go back to mom and dad’s house because there is someone you need there. Go back, please.” 

The words are smudged out on the piece of paper, but Saph feels her hands shake as she reads out, “____ will be waiting for you.” 

“Who…?” She racked her mind for anyone’s name, but she had lost contact with everyone back home. Why should she believe this letter anyway? It could have been a low prank. Saph bit her lip. But who would go so far as to tell her these things? There was no one around her that knew about her relationship with Dave. The contents of the letter were all so specific, too. But, was there really a reason for her to follow through with this? If she found a way to work around this before it happened, wouldn’t there be no need for her and Dave to break apart? Saph found her eyes on the front door of her shared apartment, and decided to give it more time before jumping into a rash decision. She would talk to Dave about it afterwards. He would understand why she’d want to talk to him about this before anything. They were able to work around their busy schedules last time. This would be the same. It won’t be that difficult. 

But the palpable sense of dread had made its hold to her heart. She desperately wanted to trust her partner and prove future her wrong. Because why the hell would she give her orders instead of context? If she knew about the divorce–was living the divorce–why wouldn’t she give her why Dave was a lying piece of scum? He was always busy at work, but he always texted periodically throughout to update her on his whereabouts. What could he possibly be lying about. Saph glared at the piece of paper sitting in front of her. 

“You know, this is all your fault too. I don’t know how you ended up in my mailbox. I thought getting mails were supposed to be a rare friendly occurrence that happens when an old acquaintance decides to correspond with you. Now I’m stuck with unnecessary thoughts in my head. I should be focusing on my upcoming trip with Dave for our second anniversary instead.”

Word Count: 548