Sara hated how the wind prickled against her purple jacket. She blinked her eyes, already giving up the battle of trying to force her hair to stay put with her hands. Dusk had settled and the Summer sky had melted into a deep blue dotted with red from a blinking plane passing overhead.
As Sara strode along the sidewalk, she attempted to ignore the scuffling of animals darting around yards too dark to see and trees too shadowy to make out. Her rational mind knew the critters were just going about their nightly business just as she was, but her slightly more irrational mind played with more frightening fantasies. I’ve been spending too much time listening to Helena. Sara’s younger sister Helena was always going on about random magical things she claimed had happened to her. I really did see a theatre made out of rain, Helena protested. Yeah, and I saw a talking fox, Sara retorted. The things Helena saw never made any sense to Sara and they definitely would never make any sense to their parents, which was probably why Helena only told these fantasies to Sara and their younger brother Henry. Sara turned left down the street. She was only a couple of blocks from her house now. During the day, living on the far edge of Buchtton near the woods was an exciting adventure. When she was younger, she, Helena, and Henry would spend hours scouring the forest for materials to build hideouts for themselves and shelters for bunnies. Now that Sara was seventeen, playing in the woods wasn’t as appealing, but she still enjoyed taking walks there during her free time and observing the wildlife. In the dark though, the woods weren’t as much fun. She averted her gaze from the trees’ haunting silhouettes. And that was when she heard it. The trickle of water flowing to her right. Sara frowned. There shouldn’t have been any streams close by and she was too far away from the ocean. She blinked and turned to see a cobbled path jutting out from the sidewalk and into a darkened space between two neighboring houses. She could just make out the hint of something reflecting light toward what she assumed to be the end of the pathway. The trickling sound ceased. I’ve walked home this way so many times, but I’ve never seen this pathway. Her mind scoured to find a reason for this development. Maybe I was always so lost in my thoughts and never noticed. Maybe this was built just today. Before her thoughts could rationalize any further, a strange sensation wrapped around Sara’s body. She was being pulled. No, not physically, although it definitely felt physical. It was something…else. She had to see what was at the end of the path. Taking a shaky breath, she stepped off the sidewalk, letting her sneakers tap against the stone tiles. It felt like her body was ringing. Like a bell had been rung inside of her and now her energy just tumbled out in waves, colliding with the night air, the whispering creatures, the murmuring trees. She was part of it all and she could breathe. Then she was there. In front of a glistening…fountain? It wasn’t a glamorous fountain that rose above its visitors and spouted water onto shimmering pennies. No, it was a gray water fountain, similar to the ones Sara saw at school. Still, it glowed, its silver metallic surface possessing no hint of prior usage. It was a fountain built just for her. She waited for her breath to steady and then she stepped forward in front of the fountain. Hands shaking, she grasped the little button on the side, its polished texture cool to the touch. A jet of water bubbled in front of her. The liquid slithered down the side of the basin and slipped down the drain. It was so quiet, she wondered if it was even real. She dipped a finger into the stream of water and gasped. It was cold and slimy, just as real water should be. Sara yanked her finger away from the fountain, this strange fountain that shouldn’t have existed, and dashed back down the pathway. Once her feet struck the sidewalk, she paused. She turned back around. The stone steps, the gleam of the fountain, they were all gone. She stood there for a few seconds. The wind frolicked with her hair and jacket. The critters shuffled and yipped among the bushes and trees. I must be tired from being out all day. I must have imagined it. But a spark had been startled awake inside her. Because now, Sara knew everything her sister had said was true.
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Celio felt the grass sting his palm and breathed in the salty air of the sea grumbling in the distance. He cherished the thrumming of the waves, the shuffling of the wind, the dancing of his own heart. He couldn’t see it at all, but he could still enjoy the environment around him. That’s what many people didn’t understand. Sometimes, you don’t need eyes to enjoy something beautiful.
“Celio, I found a nice shell!” His little brother Horatio called a few feet to his left. Horatio’s voice was light as if it could drift with the breeze. Celio pushed himself off from the sandy grass and, with the help of his cane, made his way toward the sound of his brother’s voice. The grains of sand shifted underneath the metal stick and embraced his sneakers. He loved the way his feet sunk into the soft substance as if he were being transported to another world. When he reached Horatio, he knelt down and held his hand out for his brother to place the shell in his palm. The damp, curvy figure tickled his skin and he could feel the water dripping off his brother’s slimy hand. “The water feels cold! I don’t get how you can stay so long in the waves, Horatio.” Horatio laughed. “It was worth it to get this shell.” Celio fingered the sea’s gift, stroking each curve and feeling its smooth underbelly. “It’s fascinating. You should bring it home to show Mom and Dad.” “I think I will!” Celio smiled at the excitement in Horatio’s voice. He loved how enthusiastic his brother was about all the little things in life. Celio wanted to be that way, too. That’s why he visited natural environments and forced himself to focus on his senses. He liked being himself, he liked belonging. Celio let his brother take back the shell and he buried his hand in the sand. The dry and wet particles mingled together and shivered against his fingers. He wondered if the tiny insects that burrowed in the sand were being disrupted by his movement. A flicker of guilt flashed through him. Humans could be so destructive sometimes. His brother was now mumbling a Portuguese song their mother often sang, although a bit out of tune. Celio gently recovered his hand from the soil and swayed to his brother’s music, letting himself hum along. “I want to go to Portugal someday,” Horatio said. “It would be cool to actually visit our grandparents in their own home instead of through phone calls once a year.” “Yeah.” Celio brushed off sand that had floated onto his t-shirt. “That would be nice.” He wasn’t sure that would happen anytime soon. While his family wasn’t struggling at the moment financially, it wasn’t like they had that much money to just throw around. Celio wished he could go on vacations like his friend Pavel did with his family. “Hey, Celio,” Horatio said. His voice was tentative in a way that made Celio want to pause his whole body just so he could focus on listening to Horatio. “Do you think we will ever be able to travel?” Celio didn’t know what to say. He wanted to comfort his brother, but he didn’t want to lie. He plastered a smile onto his face. “You know, we can travel right now. Close your eyes.” He heard the sounds of Horatio fidgeting on the sand. “They’re closed,” Horatio announced. “Good,” Celio said. “Now, listening to what’s around you and keeping your eyes shut, what do you see?” A moment passed. Celio focused on the wind whistling by him and the laughter of a family playing in the waves. Along the boardwalk behind him, he could hear the thumps of footsteps and the scratching of bicycle wheels along wood. “I hear people having fun and walking around,” Horatio said slowly. “What else?” “The ocean, but Celio, this is nice and all, but it isn’t the same.” Celio sighed and ran his fingers through the sand, letting the dry particles slide off his skin. He could heard the disappointment in his brother’s voice, the sadness of feeling stuck. Celio had been so focused on observing his environment, he forgot to pay attention to his brother. “You’re right. To be honest, I don’t think we’ll be able to travel anytime soon.” “It stinks.” “It does.” Horatio groaned. “Vacations are probably overrated anyway. Maybe we’re the lucky ones since we get to stay here and really appreciate this place.” Celio grinned. He listened to the sound of his brother rubbing his hand along his seashell. “Yeah, that may be true.” Twilight blanketed the Summer trees and little wisps of wind crackled against branches. My sneakers sunk into the moist soil and I clenched my phone in my hand. My gaze swept the forest clearing. Where was the cauldron?
Of course, the moment I went looking for that mysterious object was when it was nowhere to be found. I grimaced. I could see the trees, the dirt, the sky, but not the cauldron my siblings and I had found two years ago. I need it. Days have been so hard lately. I flopped onto the ground and traced the silt with my finger. The grime clung to the little canyons running through my skin and cooled my tingling extremities. “Mystery?” I jerked upright. My older sibling Anonymous stood at the edge of the clearing. I hadn’t even heard Anonymous’ footsteps. “Pronouns?” I asked. “She/her.” She peered at me, her eyebrows furrowed. “You just ran out from dinner. Wanna talk about that?” I hugged my knees to my chest. The last thing I wanted was to talk about my feelings with my seventeen-year-old sibling. She’s going to judge me like she always does. I glared at an ant crawling over my bright blue sneaker. “Sixth grade is going to be starting for you in a week, Mystery,” Anonymous stated. “If you can’t even talk to me, how are you going to handle all the new people at middle school?” I shoved my glasses farther up the ridge of my nose. “It’s none of your business.” “Make it mine so I can help you.” The ant had left my foot and was now trekking towards the side of the clearing opposite of my sibling. Being an ant would make my life so easy. All I would care about is finding food and shelter. Not caring whether or not people like me or if I can fit in… “How’d you know I’d be here?” I spoke to distract myself from my circling thoughts. “I can read minds.” I frowned. “You can?” “No, silly! I followed you. Our parents aren’t going to let you go off on your own like that. You’re eleven. Remember how much they freaked out when Soo did that?” I winced. It had been my fault Soo ran away. Soo struggled with anxiety and obsessive-compulsive behavior and I, jealous of all the attention she got from our parents, had stolen her bracelet. Anonymous and I had found her that night in this exact clearing. That was also when we had discovered the cauldron. Which isn’t here right now. I dragged my finger across the soil leaving dents in the earth. I shoved away the queasiness seeping into my body as sludge wriggled underneath my nails. “I want to be alone.” “If you come home, then I’ll leave you alone in your room, but I’m not going to let you sit here in the forest by yourself. It’s getting dark. What if a coyote eats you?” Anonymous plopped onto the ground beside me, causing the silt to tremble beneath my hand. I stared at my sibling. Was she really going to sit here with me? I sighed. “I’m just going to bore you.” Anonymous chuckled. “That’s true. You’re a very boring person.” “Am not!” “You just said that you are.” A smile flickered onto my lips and I peered up at the dusky orange sky swirling above us. “I’ll probably bore all my classmates.” “You’ll bore them by talking about how boring you are.” I shook the dirt from my fingers and nails. “Do you really not mind sitting here with me?” Anonymous was silent for a moment before meeting my gaze. Her dark brown eyes flickered with concern. “Hey, you’re my brother, and fine, you’re a bit boring and weird sometimes, but as your eldest sibling, I have to look out for you.” I sighed. “I came out here because I wanted to see that cauldron again. It seemed to make everything better last time with Soo.” Anonymous shrugged. “Nah, the cauldron just gave us some yummy soup. You apologizing and us going to find her was what helped.” “You really think so?” My sibling nodded. “Yeah, I do.” I scanned the clearing one last time, taking in the dark green bushes and the deep brown tree trunks. The chirping of crickets comforted my ears and the breeze seemed to carry a fresh aroma that wrapped around my body. I didn’t need the cauldron again. Anonymous was right, I did belong here. I returned my attention back to my sibling. “I’m ready to go back.” Life is chaos. That is one thing I am sure of as I stand outside in the sun. My bare feet dig into the moist soil and the Spring wind crackles against my hair. The sky’s dying light warms my cheeks and I breathe in its crispness, letting it crash against my lungs and tumble down my diaphram.
Life is chaos. Shouting bellows inside the house behind me. A tangle of words tremble in Venezuelan Spanish. My little brother has once again disappointed my mother. Life is chaos. I hear the weeping downstairs of the monster my sister has adopted in secret. The poor thing is frightened by a world that fears beings like him. Life is chaos because I can’t control it. I, Loli, can’t control the sun, the dirt, the wind that surrounds me. I can’t control the yelling inside my home or the Minotaur my sister Aziza has embraced. I can’t even control my own mind and the thoughts that entwine with my brain, convincing me I’m wrong, that I’m not good enough, that I’m...not...me. And that’s something I will have to endure. I peer at the clouds gliding across the sky. They’re so fluffy and orange now. Who could imagine they will eventually grow heavy with the sorrows of the world and pound against my roof? Who could envision the little sprouts underneath my feet sucking in that pain through their roots and growing taller will only be mowed down later on? Things can change so quickly. I blink and water shrouds my gaze. I turn back toward my home with the bellows, the monster, the disorder. Yes, life is chaos and I have to endure it, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing I can do. Rosa loved to paint fishes. Everyday after school, she would trot back to her house with ideas swirling around in her mind. She pondered the exact shade of pink she would use that day. Whether the background would be a sunset or the stars. Most importantly, she debated where her masterpiece would hang. In Rosa's bedroom-- well, the bedroom she had to share with her three-year-younger sister Tsunami-- the walls were plastered with her paintings. Her fathers teased her about it incessantly, however, they never refused when she prompted them to hang up another one. Today, Rosa knew exactly what she was going to paint and where she would place it. With her heart bouncing, she scurried down the sidewalk and away from her elementary school. The late Winter wind rustled her frizzy black hair and Rosa felt light as if she could drift off with the breeze. Before she knew it, she was at the door of her apartment house. She scampered up the stairs and threw open the door. She let her backpack thud on the welcome mat and she brushed past her father (or tatay, as she and her siblings called him) as he tried to ask her about her day. She dashed into her bedroom and slid into the smooth, wooden chair at her desk. Finally, Rosa pulled out her watercolors and paper from the drawer and began her piece. Two hours later, Rosa was finished. She smiled down at her newest fish, a bright gold one inspired by the pictures of koi her second grade teacher had shown the class earlier that day. The background was light blue and Rosa yearned to float alongside the fish in that tranquil, shimmering water. I'm going to get a snack, she thought to herself. She left her seat and slipped past four-year-old Tsunami who was just entering Rosa's bedroom. Rosa turned left into the kitchen where her tatay was at the table typing on his laptop. He looked up as she entered. "You were in a rush today," he said, smiling. Rosa nodded. "Yeah. I had a really good idea. Ooh, can you help me hang it up later?" "Sure," her tatay said. "Where?" "Right on the window so it can get the sun's light." After Rosa had washed her hands and gotten herself a small bowl of Goldfish crackers, she returned to her bedroom. She glanced at the desk. The painting of the golden fish was gone. Immediately, Rosa jerked her head in the direction of Tsunami. The younger girl was sitting on her bed with the art piece. Rosa marched over to her little sister. "That's my painting! I'm the one who made it." Tsunami gazed up at her with wide dark brown eyes. "But it's so pretty. You left it on the desk." Rosa slammed her bowl on Tsunami's bed. A few Goldfish fell onto the sheets. "But it's mine!" Tsunami crossed her arms. "You never share your paintings." Rosa stalked over to the opposite side of the room and with a sharp tearing noise, she peeled off the wall a drawing of a green fish. "You can have this one then." "But I don't like that one, Rosa. I want this one." Rosa opened her mouth to retort, but the thumps of footsteps stopped her. She twisted around to see her tatay enter the room with his hands on his hips. "Tsunami, Rosa, please keep your voices down. There are people upstairs." He sighed. "Now, Tsunami, can you explain to me why you both are shouting?" Tsunami glared at Rosa. "She won't give me her painting." "Because I created it," Rosa hissed. "Also, she just snatched it." Their tatay took a deep breath. "Tsunami, Rosa did spend a lot of time on this drawing, so please make sure to check with her before taking it." Rosa smirked at her younger sister. "But, Rosa," their tatay continued. "You make so many beautiful things and I can see the love you put into your work. It's a shame you don't share your pieces." With that, he left the room. Rosa's heart sank lower into her body. She didn't want to give up any of her paintings. She had put so much effort into them. Why couldn't she simply share her Goldfish with Tsunami instead of her artwork? But Rosa knew her tatay was usually right about things and he had always supported her painting. It was because of him she had that desk and those watercolors and paper in the first place. Also, it wasn't like Tsunami hated her art piece. "Hey," Rosa said slowly. Her sister peered at her. "You can have my painting." Thank you for reading! If you like my story, please don't be afraid to give it a share. Comments are always welcome and I love hearing your thoughts. Question: When was a time you gave up something you loved?
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AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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