in which a girl with a heavy burden tries to find her way through the trials and torments of the earth they've come home to.
OR
in which she must rebuild.
EMBERS
JOHN MURPHY
DEATHLIES 2016
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN T...
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S E V E N
Althea's head ached with a simmering pain as she sat on the floor of her tent, eyes closed and legs crossed in a form of practiced meditation. Her brows furrow and her lip quivers as she tries her hardest to block out the sensation from getting to her.
It was like it had intelligence to it. It refused to be reduced and only seemed to burn brighter in the back of her mind as she attempted to subdue it.
Her mother was the one who taught her the ways of meditation. It was like she knew what was coming for her poor daughter in the near future. Althea thanked her for the gift of training every day before she went to sleep.
Sometimes, she saw her when she meditated on one of her most peaceful days. She stood before her, a proud smile worn thin and eyes familiar to Althea's, only much brighter and funnily enough filled with a sense of life that Althea lacked in her own.
On occasions, her mother would grant her words of wisdom. "My child," She would say, with her rosy cheeks and her hair that seemed to float ever so slightly in the air around her structured face. "Your fight will soon be over. Hold on tight for I sense a rapid energy in your path. Hold on, my sweet daughter." And it was always the same; never did it differ between encounters, much to Althea's frustration.
Today was one of those days where her mother came to her, even though her mind was filled with waves larger than those foretold to have roamed the sea.
And today, she spoke out to her late mother. "Mother," She begins strongly. "Tell me more of this rapid energy, please."
"He has anger deep within him," She responds airily, her form floating up and down slightly as she spoke and her eyes smiling. "But he can be saved, perhaps." It isn't her words that fill young Althea Barnes with hope, it's her beaming smile that she missed dearly and her bright eyes and her skin that glowed even in the tight grasp of unforgiving death that gives her a small glimmer of hope.
"But how do I help him?" Althea persists. Here, there was a fine line between her urge to help and the want to see the rare sight of her mother for as long as possible.
"What are you doing?" An obnoxious voice from behind her asks. Her eyes snap open and her lungs involuntarily pull in a gulp of air as the image of her mother vanishes and her vision is filled with the image of the surrounding tent.
With a heavy sigh she turns around, her elbow on her knee, and lets her eyes focus on Murphy. He stands with his fingers in his belt loops and his brows furrowed as he looks at Althea in confusion.
"I was meditating, Murphy." As always, her voice was soft and delicate on the ears and her usual hard expression, gone. It was replaced by a simple expression of sorrow and, as he looked upon her, he saw that beautiful sadness once again.
"I heard you talking," He deadpans, his arms folded across his chest as she stands up from her meditative state, brushing the dust from her trousers.
Remembering her mother's words, she gives him a smile. "Yes, I was talking with my mother," She explains honestly. Lying has never gotten her anywhere.
"What?"
"I didn't think you'd understand," She murmurs, raking a hand through her dark hair. Despite what Althea knew, she didn't regret her honesty with him. Honesty is the only thing on this ground that man is entitled to.
Murphy looks at her in new light as she turns away from him. She turned away, but she did not ignore nor did she push away. She was a free and welcoming spirit that even the saddest of souls was drawn to.
"You came to me for something, Murphy," Althea muses between airy hums and whispers of songs long passed. "Why?"
"The things you said about me in the forest, I want to know how you know so much when we've never met before today." His curiosity got the better of him.
Althea closes her eyes for a moment before spinning around to him with a smile, so forced it hurt. "You may not have known me, but I knew you," She says, a breathless laugh escapes her for a moment before she catches it and holds it down. "I saw you John Murphy, I felt that aura around me long before we were sent to fetch water."
"How," He pushes, hard.
Althea's lips part and, for a moment, he believed he was about to receive his answer. But her lip crept back together and her eyes flickered away from him. "You should not let your anger get the better of you," She tells him with sympathy at her tongue. He hated it.
"You don't know me and you never will," Murphy says sternly. It seemed her words only made him bubble over. That was not her intent.
"I'm sorry," She replies quickly and quietly as he whirls around to leave.
Althea bites her lip as she makes a split second decision. Her hand darts out and grabs his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
"What are you doing?" He hisses, yanking his arm away from her. In that moment she saw the explosiveness and the danger and she saw a void. A void where happiness was lacking and sadness consumed the light. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled for words, looking into his soul.
She releases him, her skinny fingers uncurl and withdraw from him like an uncoiling snake. Murphy looks her over one more time before storming out of the tent. His footsteps like rumbles of thunder in her ears.
Althea saw everything. Her hand clasped over her mouth as she turned away from the opening, tears pooling in her eyes to fill the emptiness and the visions of Murphy's past floating through her mind. It tore at her, ripping into her as she fell to her knees and clutched her head in agony. Now she knew the truth and it only made it harder for her to look at him. Seeing him and seeing those pain-filled eyes, her heart lurched.
The past shaped him well, it shaped him into someone no one should ever wish to become.
