I Hope You Know

I miss you.
I wish that December could be like June and I wish that we were still there:
There is nothing more to say.

I Think I Fell In Love With Her The Moment She Called Me "Peasant"

PART 2

Fauve stopped singing and let go of my hand. We stood in front of the castle gate. “So how do we get in?” I asked. She tilted her head and whistled. I looked around in the air, waiting for another bird to come down and land on her finger. She whistled again, kneeling down and sticking her hand through the gate's bars.

A moment later, a white husky appeared and quietly waited as Fauve spoke. The husky lifted his head and stared at me before nodding and digging in the snow under the wall. Fauve stayed as she was, while her other hand found mine again.

            The jingle of keys came with the dog’s footsteps as he reappeared and dropped the keys in Fauve’s outstretched hand. She nodded in thanks and stood up, unlocking the gate and pulling both of us through. Surprisingly the gate made no sound and we locked it back up again then reburied the keys. Wordlessly, we followed the husky across the courtyard of the castle to another gate on the side. He stopped and bowed to Fauve before retreating. “What do we do now?” I said. As far as I could tell, this was the exact same as the first gate.

            “We walk in.” She pushed the gate open effortlessly and led the way to the castle's crawl space, which we found our way into. It was dark and damp, but not entirely cold. We slithered in on our stomachs, reaching a point to stand up in. Slimy square stones made up the walls to the dungeon, and cages and bars lined the aisle on either side. We came to a cell near the end with the bars ripped out and bent inward. A pair of shoes lay inside. I stopped and stared at it, thinking of Fauve’s bare feet, while she let go of me and ran ahead.

            “Why are you back?” A hissing voice came from further on. I looked up from the shoes and slowly made my way after Fauve. “I set you free.” The voice hissed some more and I heard the scrape of claws on the stone.

            “I came to return the favor.” Fauve’s voice sounded almost unfamiliar. I crept my way up to them and hid behind the wall. Fauve stood in front of a dragon, trying not to shake. The dragon was sitting down in a big stone room that was the size of the rest of the dungeon.

            He was big and had scales that were a dark purplish color. His wings were folded on his back and looked to be black. The green in his eyes circled his pupils; they were the size of my whole head.

            “How?” The dragon tilted his head, baring the amount of teeth in his mouth. “You can barely speak to me.” More hissing followed, and Fauve’s breath was the only sound she made. “Why would you, chambermaid? There’s no good for rescuing a dragon you can’t even talk to.” The dragon waited for Fauve to respond. “Speak, chamber maid. Speak!” the dragon roared, and blew out fire towards the ceiling, adding to the charred black spots on the net-like cover.

            “Why do you want to know so badly why it is she wants to free you? Why haven’t you freed yourself? A net is what’s stopping you?” I spoke up, the dragon’s eyes locking in on me.

            “Ah, a Dragon Speaker. What a gift it is that the chambermaid has brought me.” The dragon smiled and crawled forward until his foot was right in front of Fauve. “I haven’t spoken to a Dragon Speaker since…ever. What a special occasion this is.” The dragon smiled again. “What is your name, Dragon Speaker?”

            “Skander,” I said, stepping out from behind the wall and walking up to Fauve. Her gaze jumped from the dragon to me, no longer any trace of fear in her.

            “And the chambermaid?” The dragon tilted his head toward her.

            “Fauve,” she answered, looking back up at him.

            “Fauve and Skander have come to rescue me.” The dragon widened his eyes before stepping backwards into his room, pacing back and forth. “It’s a plan, set in motion by the one by the name of Fauve, to free me in hopes of another plan; for the one by the name of Skander.”

            The dragon stopped in front of us. “Dragon Speaker, do you know who you are? Do you know why you’re one blessed to speak to us? Have you come to save me, or is there a patron in the castle above that spins a tangled web inside your thoughts?” His voice became lower, and the next words were barely comprehensible. “Or is it simply because of fair Fauve, who has crawled inside your heart?”

            The dragon stared at me, the reflection of the two of us in his eyes. He blinked and spun around in a circle, stopping to breathe fire on the net ceiling above him and to claw at it, tearing a hole just big enough to get someone my size through. He stopped once again and spread his wings out, reaching from wall to wall in the room. He looked back at us.

            Fauve took my hand again and began to screech. In a minute, the flaps of wings and the mirrored screech of dozens of birds was in the air. They circled in groups according to species and began to tear at the net. “It won’t be enough.” The dragon looked up and swung his tail at me, picking me up and throwing me through the hole.

            I looked down, seeing Fauve narrow her eyes at the dragon and him shrug, looking back at me. I stood up, walking across the net and coming to a tree growing on the side of the walls. Presumably, it was where the chambermaids would feed the dragon from when there weren't any prisoners. The branches were strong and close enough for me to grab. I clung onto one and looked back at the dragon; he stuck his hand through, holding onto me as he pulled.

            The tree came in through the ceiling, and I hung from the dragon’s claw with a hole in my shirt. Fauve’s birds flew off, some cawing at her as she cawed back. “They would've heard that in the castle. The queen probably saw us sneak inside. We have to go,” she said from the ground.

            “Who said anything about bringing you?” The dragon looked down at her; Fauve and I froze. “I’m kidding.” The dragon rolled his eyes and placed both of us on his back. We clung onto his scales as he flew out of the dungeon and above the castle grounds, where they were waiting for us.

            Arrows and spears were thrown into the sky; the dragon sneered and breathed fire out at them, laughing as he flew higher in a circle. The circle spiraled down, making me dizzy, and the dragon breathed down on the queen's people, terrifying them.

            “What happens now?” I asked, feeling Fauve wrap her arms around me.

            “Well, peasant, I suppose we follow the dragon.”

I Think I Fell In Love With Her The Moment She Called Me "Peasant"

PART 1

I walked the forest as the wind picked up, curling its icy fingers around me. My footsteps left imprints in the near frozen mud. The coo of an owl sent chills down my spine as I hurried to make it back to the cave before the snowfall. The sky held the promise of snow in the heavy white clouds. Late December used to be enjoyable, and I used to feel alive in it.

            Stone that made a cave met my sight and I ran towards the soft glow that emitted from it, hoping to find something or someone. Before I could stop myself, I rushed inside, only to find it empty. As empty as September and as lonely as the rest of the caves in my life had been. The light was my lantern left behind from the morning.

            I sat on the floor, emptying the sack I had carried on my shoulder. Inside was enough dried meat to last the winter. Maybe more since the more life seemed to sink in, the less I had any interest in eating.

            Fifteen wasn't meant to be that sad. Well maybe it was in some other world, but not here. Not in Everest where fifteen was the prime age for everything. I guess for some of us that included losing everyone and everything that you ever loved. Just because I was always alone, it didn't make it okay to weep over missing someone so bad it physically hurts; but I did it anyway. And it didn't make it okay to feel sorry for yourself and silently scream the question “Why?” while your tears watered the ground like a heavy rain. But I did that too.

            I woke up cold. Cold and outside of the cave: where it was snowing. I sighed and picked myself up along with anything I had brought with me into the cave, and set out again. It wasn't long before I came across aset of bare-footprints in the snow and a curled-up figure underneath a silver cloak.It was the kind of cloak too expensive to belong to me or anyone I had known. I walked over to it anyway and gently rested my hand on the shoulder of the body inside.

            It wasn't dead. I let out a sigh of relief, wanting to know how someone with a cloak like that would end up frozen and outside on the outskirts of the castle grounds. Maybe they were a fugitive, which would make them the closest thing I had to a friend.

            Light brown hair and the palest blue eyes moved out from under the cloak. She hurriedly sat up, and I stared at what I thought was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She pulled the cloak around her and tucked a jeweled necklace inside her shirt. “Are you a fugitive?” I asked.

            “No, do I look like one?” She had snow stuck to her hair.

            “Yeah.” I shrugged, not knowing what else to think orsay.

            “Well, for your information, peasant, I’m not one. I am the princess of Everest and I have been very rudely thrown out of my palace by a peasant who looked like one such as yourself.” She brushed some snow off her arm and stood up straight.

            “Yeah, and I’m a prince from some far-off kingdom who’s come to save you.” I smirked as I looked down at her.

            “Well, you’re a little bit late. And no prince would ever be carrying around a sack of dried meat on his shoulder or wearing clothes such as those.”

            “Unless I happen to be a pretentious prince disguised as a humble, common peasant,” I said.

            “You’re not either one of those things though; you’re a pretentious peasant disguised as a humble prince.” She had a glint in her eye that made her look a little scarier than a princess about fifteen years old should look. From the sound of her voice I could tell she knew what was going on just as well as I did and that she wasn't the stereotypical kind of stupid damsel in distress that I could just manipulate into believing I really was a prince.

That’s the difference between my fairy tale and theirs; I wouldn't waste even two seconds on a damsel in distress, even if she happened to look like this girl. But there was something different about this girl, like the fact that she had probably sworn to kill herself before she would ever become a damsel in distress.

            “And you aren't a princess.” I looked into her eyes; they were so pale they were almost white with just a tint of blue.

            “How would you know?” She pulled the cloak around her tighter, losing a little of the elitist in her voice.

            “Because my brother left to go marry the princess last September. Also, last I checked the princess of Everest is about a foot taller than you and . . . a bitch.”

            “Oh, really? If you think Larissa is a bitch, you've yet to meet her chambermaid. Or ex-chambermaid who is now considered a prisoner in the castle dungeon.” She flashed a smile and raised her hands with metal cuffs attached to each wrist. One end still held the broken chain.

“How did you–”

“What’s your name?”

“Skander. How did–”

“I’m Fauve. Your brother was the one who got me in the dungeon and the dragon was the one who got me out. It took me three days of begging and using what knowledge I have of Dragon Language. But if you wanted to get your brother out, I’m almost certain it’d only take you an hour.”

“What?”Before my brother had left, he had always said that the beautiful girls were the craziest. I was beginning to think that might be true. 

“You’re a Dragon Speaker, Skander. It’s in your name and it’s on your skin–I see it in your eyes too.” She looked up at me like I was meant to have an epiphany and suddenly realize what it was that she was talking about. “You’re meant to defend the people, and for you, that means join with the dragons because for a Dragon Speaker, the dragons are your people.”

“What about you? You’re the one who got a dragon to free you instead of eat you.”

“That’s because I could figure out how to talk to them. It’s hard to talk to dragons though, harder than it is to talk to anything else.”

“Anything else?”

She nodded and looked up to the sky, making a clicking noise with her tongue. A minute later a small bird flew down and perched on her finger. It looked up at her and I’m sure it was talking about me. She laughed and shook her head; but it was the kind of head shake you give someone when you both know it’s a little white lie that you’re telling. What kind of chambermaid told white lies to birds?

In another minute the bird was gone and Fauve was looking at me again.

“What did you–”

“It’s not important, peasant,” she said, smiling. She made a swift motion with her left foot, crossing her legs.

“ Aren't you cold, since your feet are–”

“I haven’t gotten cold in a long time,” she said. It must go along with her animal communication powers, I decided. She eyed me and looked me over, then turned her head in the direction of the castle.

“I have a proposal to make to you, and no, it’s not marriage. Will you, Skander the Dragon Speaker, go with me to the castle of Everest to free the dragon which the bitch of a princess, Larissa keeps in her disgusting old dungeon?” She waited for an answer, and I could tell she was scared of my answer.

“I’ll go with you,” I said. “If you swear not to leave me at any point during this trip.”

Slowly she nodded. “Of course.” was all that she said before she took my hand and placed her first bare foot in front of the other.

Here Is the Tale of a Hollow Mermaid's Sorrow (Which She Put In a Bottle for Her Dead Lover to Read)

Broken glass is sharp. The worst is when it comes off in shards from the newest sunken ship. It breaks away and slowly sinks to the bottom of the ocean to become sea glass that might wash up on shore one day. And on that one day, the person who picks it up will never know that it was once stuck in my tail and led to the death of an already dying, love-struck man.

            The kelp forest was mine. At any point you swam into it, you’d find it empty with the exception of me and on one day, a ship.

            I heard the breaking of wood and the scream of men underneath the roar of Filius before the ship went down. The dark shadow blocking out the sun between the leaves was the start. Next came the breaking of the stems and the already ruined ship that crashed through half of my forest, the other half breaking off on the edge of the large rock marking the start of the open ocean. I floated at first, slowly moving into what used to be the middle of my forest. Now it appeared to be the end.

            Filius landed on the top of the ship, a sailor in his mouth. He stopped when he saw me. The half-eaten body fell onto the deck, beginning to float up to the surface.

            I hissed at him, baring all 200 teeth and extending my claws. Filius just stared. I hissed at him again, wishing for the scream of a siren. If I had had it, there wouldn’t have been any use for the tears in my eyes.

            Filius left without another attack on the dead ship. This had never been his forest; it had never been anything but where he was hatched. But was always mine and I was always there. How empty the world has to be to let me be the closest thing of a mother to a Kraken. How much crueler it has to be to tear you away, the love I raised him with.

            I swam up to where Filius had been, taking in the ruin of my forest. The ruin was all that I had left. A swirl of blue blood in the water passed in front of me. Slowly I looked down to find glass in my tail without a trace of pain. The blood was dripping in a steady stream, out into the water and forming a path. A strangled cry of distress escaped my mouth and I followed my blood, swimming down to the lowest part of the ship. I found a man.

            This man was living and from the blue patterns on his face, I knew it was only my blood keeping him alive. In seconds I was leaning over him. “What did you do to summon him?” I hissed.

            “What? I–I–I just want to go ashore.” He was frightened and the blue was ever so slowly fading from him. “Please,” he begged. “Please take me ashore to see her.” The look in his eyes was so intoxicated with love that the tears repressed.

            He was dying, but if I bled enough, he could stay alive. Yes, I could carry him up to get air and leave him to owe me a favor. But what good could a dead man who ruined my forest do?

            “Who?” My teeth were bared and ready to bite.

            “Elizabeth. Please.” My nails dug into his neck and that precious look of terror in his eyes seemed to freeze on his face.

            “Why did you summon him?”

            “I–I didn’t summon him. I was just singing, a love song to her.”

I let go of his neck, dragging my nails through the skin.

            The very beginning of my forest stared at me, reminding me of you. Reminding me of you and the dead man whom you helped, knowing that he would owe you. Reminding me that he knew you wouldn’t live to have him owe you. I looked down, ripping the shard of glass from my tail and stabbing it into his heart.

            My blood circled around us.

The kelp forest was mine. Before that, it was ours. Now my blood has settled a curse on the dead, love-struck man who reminded me too much of what we were and who has stolen what I had left.

            I stay trapped at the end of the forest to watch the kelp grow up over the ship and become all it was. But my forest is haunted and the only remnant to give what is mine back to me, is a feeling that can’t be found. I like to think that the forest isn’t lonely like it was for so many years and that love has sprung inside, keeping me out. I like to think that Elizabeth collected sea glass and one day found it, bringing herself back to the dying man on the ship. Yet, I know it’s my bitterness and my blood, leaving me harsh and alone and locked out of the only trace of life I have left.

Frozen

The water here's cold
It freezes me, keeping me broken and stealing my soul
I tried to fight it
I tried to scrape my way back up
And find the way out
Out of this riverbed
Out of the water
Out of my enchanting nightmare of a dream
The water here's cold
Yet I'm burning and scorching as the fire catches my breath
And the chills stain my nerves until they're blue
The water here's cold
It carries me with the current and I endlessly float
I float in not a river, but a sea
It's vast and filled with secrets and pain and a mind tortured and disturbed
To the point where it barely knows empty from numb
And numb from a sharp pointed edge
The water here's cold
And soft and a heartless killer
But I like the hands that hold mine
And I like the words that crawl and forever settle inside
Me

IT

“He’s the reason behind this.” My dad’s voice sounded again. I wondered if somehow he knew I’d be in this much trouble someday and that the only way he’d be allowed to do something would be to be a cop. Because the police are supposed to help people, and that’s all he wants to do. Which is funny, because I wouldn't even need his help if it hadn't been for him being a cop in the first place. “I know what he did, and he knows where my daughter is,” my dad continued. “He’s here, somewhere. He didn't even try to cover his tracks.” He muttered the last part, his indignation rising. But he was mad at the wrong person. Steven wasn't the one who hurt me; he was the one trying to save me, and now he was unconscious beside me, inside a crawl space  in an abandoned building reachable only through the vent.

#

“I told you there’s nothing in there,” I said, closing the door behind me and balancing a partially eaten cupcake in my hand. Steven had left the file cabinet open, getting bored with the data from solved cases. This wasn't even my dad’s office; it was just where stacks and stacks of cases and important files were stored and where my dad usually was. That was the only reason I was now looking through the files on the desk, which happened to be open, meaning someone had obviously been looking at them. “What are you doing?” I moved behind him, he didn't stop.

“Looking at this case. Three unsolved murders; they all died the same day of the month, the same way.”

“Uh, yeah. Listen, you—”

“We should go after it,” he interrupted me.

“Hmm?” I said, my mouth full of frosting. I looked closer at the files, they were detailed and . . . strange, not a case my dad would typically be on.

“Whatever it is that did this—we should go after it.” He flipped a page, revealing photos of the deaths. I cringed and looked away; I never had been too good with gore.

“It?” I looked at the door, hoping no one would walk in.

“Yeah, It. Humans don’t do stuff like this.” He held up a picture, and I blocked it with my hand.

“Yes, yes, actually they do. They’re called murderers and collectively they commit tons of crimes that end up in police stations like this one. And listen, we’re not really supposed to be in here or looking at this, so, um, we have to leave.” I opened the door, hoping he would leave if I did. He got up and shrugged, walking out. I sighed with relief and shut the door.

I never should’ve gone looking for It with him.

I contemplated waking Steven up, then decided against it. He’d just freak and ask if we had found It. It wouldn't matter what the answer was, he’s still squawk over it like a 13-year-old fangirl. My dad gave out more orders about where to search. I didn't know he was able to do that. It was getting cold and it didn't matter what was going to happen next, because either way, I needed to move. I sucked in a breath and covered Steven’s mouth before waking him up.

 “We should run. We should run and turn back—this is the worst thing I have ever done,” I’d said just an hour or two before, the afternoon sun in my face. We were supposed to be at school, like normal people.

“This is the worst you've done.” Steven turned to me. “Loser,” he jeered, leading the way through the door into the abandoned building. According to his favorite book, this is where It would be.

“I’m not a baby,” I protested, moving ahead of him to prove my point. The building was empty; it was full of dust and smelled of mothballs. The smell didn't go with its appearance. I walked into a room; it was like the hall we had come from and just as empty. The smell was strongest right in the center of the room. I stopped, crinkling my nose, with Steven right behind me. This was the first time he had been silent the whole trip.

“What’s that stuff?” Steven was looking up at the ceiling, at the sticky goo dripping down from it. A glob landed on my feet. I screamed.

“Get it off! Help me, just get it—” I stopped as the goo fell to the ground. I looked at my shoes, finding no trace it had been on them at all.

“We should get out of here,” I said, running for the exit as soon as I saw Steven nod. His eyes were big, and even though he wasn't going to admit it, he was scared. “What are you doing? Open it!” I said, watching him trying to open the door.

“I’m working on that.” Steven pulled again, but the door was sticking closed. “This isn't good. Whenever a door doesn't work, something bad happens.” He scanned the empty building. “We’re going to get eaten, or die, or become its slaves, and then—”

“Shut up! We’ll be fine. There’s another exit somewhere, and nothing is going to eat us—we’re just paranoid because tree sap fell on my shoes and this door is locked.” I exhaled; almost convincing myself it was true. He nodded and walked with me to the next door we saw. I felt myself calming down as we approached it. “See, there’s a door, and now we can—”

A belligerent banging on the wall made me scream. Adrenaline pumped into my system. It pumped into Steven’s too as he ran for the door.

I only saw its eyes and hands after it picked me up.

My eyes shut out the world, and my screams made up for the lack of a picture. A sharp prick stabbed my arm. I didn't stop screaming until I was back on the ground. That’s when the panic rose, when I saw Steven wrapped around its other hand and then, seconds later, thrown out the now open door only to hit his head on the pavement.

“In here,” Steven said, running ahead of me to the door of the building. It looked like an abandoned factory or something. I followed him and waited, nervously, before climbing into the vent after him. I don’t know how long we traveled before we came to a stop and Steven slipped out of the vent below us. His head collided with the brick wall before landing. When I jumped down after him, he was unconscious.

#

When he woke up he was still scared. And he was shaking, like I was. “Where did It go?” he said, after I was sure he wouldn't let us be heard. I shrugged, not wanting to speak. “But I mean, we found it.” He sat up. “We found It!” He looked around at the wall. “Where are we? What–what happened?” The excitement in his eyes faded.

“We have to leave. The police and my dad are out there . . . It took some of my blood. They found traces of my blood back there, and your DNA. They think you’re It,” I whispered out everything I had heard them say.

 “Why? Why did it take your blood and why am I ...?” His question hung in the air. “Should we tell your dad? I mean we’re both here—he’ll believe you, right? Or we could run, in the movies they always run and—” He was cut off by a sound from outside. We heard screams and the sound of running.

When we crawled outside, everyone was gone. Their cars and whatever else they had had with them remained “I found his keys,” I said, holding them up and starting toward the car.

“I think I know where it went.” Steven stared at a trail of goo on the road.

To be continued . . .

---

Left Behind

Sink me and drown me
Because clinical depression is catchy
And fuck it, it's much better than finally, really being happy
Or being close enough to latch on before it falls away
And see, once you get out you're gone
Once you leave, you don't come back
And there's never anything strong enough to keep even your thoughts
On this town of shit

Rain

And just like that, I start to miss you like crazy
Because I have this idea that you bring the rain