Jun 29

That Feeling You Get When You're Alone at 4:23 am

4:23 am 
Is the most alone you can be
The birds have begun their day, because, unlike you, they are morning people

When 4:23 am arrives, you know you have survived the night
You can see the outlines of trees, the sky a black that is softer
The promise of a sunrise is there, but you can go into a room with the curtains drawn and still pretend that it is night enough to sleep
Nothing can hurt you or scare you anymore, because the sky is warming up
Nothing can hide under the cover of darkness anymore, because the darkness is not so dark or so threatening
The monsters won't come for you now

You release tension you didn't know you held

The world will wake up soon, but you are one step ahead of them
You have been awake for hours
4:23 am is the perfect moment between awake and asleep, that split second between the moment your breathing slows and the moment you fall completely
May 28

The Meeting Scene

It was Winnie who first noticed the two figures standing on the doorstep of the house numbered 37, for Adelaide had been too interested in their conversation about jam. “Who are they?” she whispered into Adelaide's ear. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of them before.”
“I suppose those are our new neighbors.”
“And you didn’t mention them to me before? How rude.”
“Sorry,” she said, laughing. As they continued towards number 37, Adelaide saw that the two strangers were speaking with her mother, and they didn’t seem to be leaving, which sent Adelaide into a slight panic, for she had not had an opportunity to prepare for making the two new acquaintances. The two girls slowed down. 
“Goodness! You can practically see through the shorter one, can’t you?” As Adelaide looked more carefully, she saw that Winnie was right - the boy was so incredibly fair that she was surprised that he was a real flesh and blood human, and not some kind of spirit. 
May 28

The Girls Chill Together Scene

The air continued to grow warmer as the summer continued to set in. In the earliest days of June, four girls could be seen walking down the Whitby cliff stairs after school, when the sun grinned down on their shining faces. Their names were Suzannah, Janet, Mary, and Adelaide. “How sad that Winnie caught a cold just when everything was beginning to warm up,” said Mary.
    “It’s such a shame.”
    “Rather depressing, isn’t it.”
    “Ironic, too.” The girls walked on in silence, until Adelaide broke the spell. “You know what bothers me terribly?”
    “What?”
    “Frederick?” asked Suzannah. The girls laughed. 
    “Well, yes,” said Adelaide, “all the time. But that’s not what I meant.”
    “What is it then?” said Suzannah, looking her friend in the face.
    “It’s that women make up half the bloody population but can’t vote. It’s just so sad and awful.”
    “Well, yes, it’s all horrid, but things could be worse,” ventured Janet.
May 28

The Prologue

July 1914

One of the most glorious things about Whitby, North Yorkshire County, England, was the miraculous summer sunshine. It turned the four of them to crips to be sure, but there was nothing quite like splashing about in the chilled waters of the River Esk. The four youths could be seen in the river nearly every day of their summer vacation, and they became somewhat of a seasonal fixture. Residents of the nearby buildings would look at them through their recently washed windows and remark to their companions, “Look, if it isn’t those young ones again, but this time one year less young.” And so it went, every single summer. But it was the summer of 1914 when things started to change, unnoticeably at first, then all at once. That was the summer, the last summer, before the war. 
May 26

The London Scene

“Adelaide, we need to leave now.”
“No! We have to stay to-”
“I’m sorry, Adelaide. A grown man just punched you in the face, we need to go.”
“But-”
"Your mother is going to boil me alive as it is, if we stay she’ll boil you too.”
“Edwin, I don’t want to go, this is the first time I’ve been to the city, and I’ll probably never get to go again!”
“I’ll take you some other time.”
“Really?”
“Promise. But we have to leave now. Come on.” He took her hand and led through the rambunctious crowd, barely escaping the fists and elbows that were flying about near their heads. Adelaide ran a few steps until she had caught up with Edwin.
“This is horrible,” she whispered, in awe of the sheer anger that had consumed the square. 
“I know.” He squeezed her hand even tighter, staring straight ahead. They continued barreling across the square until they reached a side street. 
“Where…” wheezed Edwin, his hands on his knees.
May 26

The Death Scene

A boy lay in a field. No, not a field, a vast expanse of every color that anyone has ever hated. A boy lay still, staring at the sky as if it would give him answers, like there could somehow still be time. The boy tried not to take his eyes off the sky, tried not to feel so many...things. Things cracking inside of him, a small piece of metal winding its way through his stomach, another in his shoulder. He tried not to hear things, he tried to forget about everything he saw behind his eyes whenever he closed them. He tried to keep his blood inside of him, tried to exist in a world that was dry and green and everything that “here” wasn’t. He had forgotten where the green things were, but he knew they were somewhere nice. Somewhere without rats. Maybe that was where he was going. 
Mar 23

Silent towns

Big, wet, end-of-March snowflakes muffle the sounds of the already-silent town.
38 (or more) signs paper the windows of the stores on Main Street.
Closed until further notice
So sorry
See you soon

But there's no one to see.
No one walks the streets anymore, especially when the snow is wet as rain and it piles on shoulders like burdens that come right back after you brush them off.
The town was already about to be ravaged by unnecessary construction.
Small businesses were already suffering.
Every couple of windows there were already signs.
Building for sale
Space for rent 
Closed for the season

Now there are signs in every window because 
We can't breathe the same air 
Anymore.

The world wants this town to be silent.
It was already breaking
Slowly
But in ways you could see.
Now, there is only
Coronavirus
COVID-19 
Mar 04

apologies from the ocean

I didn't mean to 
It was an accident I swear
The people were so sad
I swallowed up the ship, I know, I'm sorry
But the world could use more salt water, more tears, more of me
More ocean
Ocean is such a beautiful word and it makes such a beautiful world
I didn't mean to hurt her, I'm sorry (Jack)(Tom)(Edward)(Matthew)(Will)(George)(Elijah)
It's not my fault that she froze, that she couldn't breathe
It was dark, the pilot couldn't see there was an iceberg I'm sorry the ship sank I'm sorry she drowned
I'm sorry you drowned
That was your choice, though
Not mine
I would give you back your breath if I could but then where would we be
I would be lonely without your souls
I'm sorry you were heartbroken, (Jack)(Tom)(Edward)(Matthew)(Will)(George)(Elijah)
But you jumped in the water and I was gracious enough to take you in


 
Mar 04

it's only an illusion

It's only an illusion
I'm not who you think I am, even though I know that sometimes
I seem like the person I know you think you know I am

You're wrong
I'm wrong
You're so sure that I'm sure
You're sure of yourself because you're sure about me
Who I am
What I do How I seem How I speak Why I care What I wear Who I want to be What I want to be Why I chose this (I didn't) you think you know
In fact you know you know but you know wrong
This is only an illusion 
A conversation that I'm creating in my head for you to create in your head so that you can create what's in my head so that I can prove you wrong
Because I need to prove somone wrong 
I don't have to be right as long as I can show you that you don't know everything about me about you
You're an illusion trust me I don't want you to be alone but you have to know that you can't keep people close
By hurting them

 
Feb 27

the five states of us

You and I have five settings: 

i
We talk about anything and everything and everything's grandmother and we just keep building and building and asking and answering and wondering and relishing our similiarities for hours on end, even after the batteries of my fairy lights run out 

ii
We argue like we hate each other (when everyone knows that we don't), throw insults (but we don't throw them too hard), bicker over every detail, purposefully misinterpret, and create blatant mayhem. I hit you in the face with a snow ball (by accident, I can never aim properly) and you pretend you're dying 

iii
We sit in unbreakable silence while at least one of us (maybe both) is trying to think of something intelligent to say, and it's so painful but at least I'm sitting next to you

iv

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