[COMPLETED]
[WATTYS 2022 WINNER]
James Quinn can't die. Actually... that's not true. He's died many times - somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 - only to be reborn as himself to live his life over again.
For millennia, he's had to endure this c...
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October 25, 1994 [4]
Martha loved irony. She found it liberating. Romeo and Juliet, The Wizard of Oz, Beauty and the Beast... Be they joyful or tragic, that outcomes may contradict expectations made her destiny indefinite
So although the snowflakes, light and wide, fell as helplessly as she remembered, Martha no longer considered them kindred. And though she was still the girl who'd been ripped from her home and her friends in the middle of her junior year, it was of her design and she was ecstatic.
She stood from the window sill and walked to her new closet. The rack was mostly empty as the majority of her clothes remained in boxes scattered around her room. Blank and stark, she'd kept her room in character, not wanting to take any chances. But this was the morning of... and there's no way I'm wearing that stupid coat!
Her yellow UC Berkeley hoodie hung in her closet like a flag on a quiet day. Martha chuckled to herself at the failed metaphor. The flag should be checkered! She pulled it off the hanger and onto herself, claiming her victory.
"Marty!" her father called.
"Coming!" she replied, dancing through and around the boxes then down the stairs.
Steven stood with his arms out, holding her backpack in one and the marshmallow coat in the other. He stared at her for a moment, most likely in shock from her suddenly good mood.
Before he could speak, Martha wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed the side of her head to his chest.
"Oh... my," he stumbled. "What's... what's this for?"
"I love you, Dad," she said and squeezed him tighter.
"I... love you too, sweetie," he said then closed his arms around her awkwardly, still holding the bag and coat.
"And I'm sorry," Martha said as she released him. She cleared her throat and swallowed back tears. There was so much she'd been holding onto – despair, guilt, anger, glee – she feared that if she opened the gates, the deluge would be unstoppable. "For so many things."
"Okay, but... I'm confused," Steven said with a face to match.
Martha laughed. "It's okay. Let's talk about it tonight. You wouldn't want me to be late for my first day, would you?"
"No. No, certainly not." He shook his head slightly as if to wake himself from bewilderment then held up the coat. "I got this for you. Did you see that it's snowing outside?"
She took the coat and silently walked it to the front closet to hang it up. Then she returned to him, took her backpack and swung it over her shoulder.
"But..." Steven protested.
"I'm going to be okay, Dad," she said with a smile. His confusion morphed into acceptance and his smile matched his daughter's. Then Martha led the way as they left for her new school.
