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[nirvana-falling.livejournal.com]

Challenge: [104- The Show Must Go On]
Title: the sound of settling
Wordcount: 520
Notes: This is an old drabble of mine, which I've polished because I felt it fit the theme quite well. Also, I'm late, but the challenge hasn't been closed...so... If either of those things is against the rules, just let me know.

That aside, I like this. :D



Sometimes Olette will call Hayner and just sit on her end of the line and listen to him fill the empty air with pointless chatter. She waits for the hitch in his breath that comes before he starts really talking to her. When he does, the words come in fits and starts so she helps him along sometimes. Blind leading blind (but if she’s completely honest with herself the problem is that she isn’t blind anymore.)

His voice isn’t right even if the words and maybe even the sentiment are. She murmurs her response into the telephone; a baker’s dozen of breathless, noiseless, hopeless, confessions laden with regret. Hayner goes silent and she can feel something run down the cord of her phone. The absence of something, if she’s feeling brave.

-

On Olette’s dresser is an empty spot, where she swears something belongs. Something in her remembers being on top of the clock tower, but when she tells Hayner he just gives her a funny look and says,

“Don’t be stupid, Olette. If you climbed up there you’d probably fall.”

And normally she’d see the thick undercurrent of affection in his words but for some reason all she can do is bite back the desperate hysterics that threaten to overcome her.

-

That night she dreams of witches in white, of soft smiles, of fire.

She wakes somewhere between a sob and a scream.

-

The next day she makes Hayner and Pence explore the old mansion with her. They exchange puzzled glances but don’t complain about this unexpected bout of irresponsibility from Olette; it’s still much too early to think of homework, of the end of summer. While they poke around the first floor, checking for ancient treasure or bones or something exciting, Olette tears up the stairs. They let her go.

She can see the room in her mind’s eye; the white table, the white floor, white walls, white dress, Naminé Naminé Naminé the name hammers itself into her skull. There are pictures too, and all she can really make out is the red hair and the black coat and—

there is nothing but a few rotting chairs and a boarded-up window.

So when she returns to her friends they don’t ask why she’s on the edge of tears because they don’t know how, because it isn’t normal, because they’re afraid they’ll get burnt and they can’t explain why. (Though if she wants to give them the truth it’s more a madness, and they needn’t fear because madness is never catching, not like this.)

-

That night she dreams of green eyes and blue skies and beaches that she’ll never see, and there’s a hand on her shoulder and a voice in her ear that tells her to let go because no fifteen year old girl needs this ghost and her refusal’s on the tip of her tongue—

when the alarm goes off and she shoots up. It’s going to be a good day, she can tell. She’ll go to the beach with Hayner and Pence.

And afterwards, she’s going to make them do their summer homework.