The Figures

Hope and Sorrow

            Mia stared at the horizon as the sun slowly dipped down and disappeared. As she slowly blinked, the sun lingered in her vision, a splotch of vibrant blue and purple. She leaned back in the kitchen chair and put her feet on the table. No one was home to tell her not to. The clock on the wall continued to tick as the sun made its way slowly down. Besides the constant ticks the house was silent and Mia enjoyed that. Not enjoyed, soaked it in and accepted it. Fog began to gather on the horizon and the sky became streaked with pink, only a slice of sun left. With time, the sun was gone, leaving Mia sitting at the table in the gathering darkness and fog, her eyes still locked on the horizon.

Her mind drifted along, lost in a sea of thought and tossed by waves of confusion. She was alone. In the house and her life she was alone. Mia's father was God-knows where doing God-knows what. He left three months ago once the divorce papers went through. Mia tossed the thought to the side. Her mother was in San Diego, probably. Business trip. At least that was what she was told. Her siblings were at her grandparents, only a few minutes down the street. The house was quiet and Mia needed quiet, so she stayed here. With two younger brothers and one younger sister silence was hard to come by.

The darkness enveloped Mia and her thoughts, draping them both in a blanket of cold. The clock kept ticking even though its bright companion had left. On and on it went, the relentless push ever present. There was alcohol in the fridge. The thought came quickly and suddenly. It seemed comforting. There were many things she wanted to forget, especially after today. Mia had broken up with her boyfriend. She couldn't exactly recall why. All she could remember was her screaming and beating his chest while he just stood there. Like a wall. Like a boy who still loved her. She got up from her chair with a decided mind, opening up the fridge and grabbing the whiskey she knew was hidden in the back. Her throat burned as she took a drink, but she refused to flinch. She just wanted to forget, just for a few seconds forget.

Her thoughts became more and more vague as she took sips and her vision began to swim. The waves of emotion grew, becoming white and foamy, crashing down with more force. Her face became flushed as the dark deepened. She wasn't forgetting. If anything, her memories seemed more vivid as the waves battered her mind. She was angry. It grew inside her, lurking among the waves that now came with every tick of the clock. From the kitchen chair she swore, yelling at the clock, forever ticking, and at the growing night. She wanted it to stop, for the clock to stop ticking and the night to stop encroaching. There was a bridge. It was tall. Her hindered mind loved that thought. Stumbling towards the back sliding door, Mia clumsily slid the glass door to the side and fell out into the night.

She lay on the ground for a while, unable to get up in her current state. The grass was wet, and the mud underneath seeped into her clothes and hair. Mia fought a cascade of nausea as it came over her. Her eyes lazily looked up at the sky, searching in vain for stars drowned out by civilization. When the nausea passed and her head stopped twisting, she shakily stood up. In her drunken state, the fog played devil to her footing, causing her to lurch and stumble. She yet again swore the night up and down, cursing the dark and the moon. Halfway through her back yard, Mia gave up. Collapsing to the ground, she forgot all thoughts of the bridge and simply laid there with mud splattered clothing and wet, heavy hair. She would've laid there will hypothermia claimed her if it wasn't for the singing.

Mia, at first, thought it was her drunken mind, but it grew louder with time. It was a beautiful song, with words she did not recognize. The lines of the song flowed and moved, the volume ebbing like the tide. It grew and grew then peaked and fell then grew again. It was a beautiful female voice, one that captured your attention and refused to let it go. As the song grew closer, Mia forced herself up into a sitting position, propping her limp form on her elbows. What assaulted her swaying sense was not at all what she expected.

There was a figure, a beautiful woman with raven-black hair that was dancing. She leaped and twirled about, her delicate white-lace dress flowing about her, following her movements with an untamable beauty. A deep purple glow shone from her face pouring from her eyes and reflecting off the fog. Mia was ensnared by the figure, but did not see where the song was coming from. There was something concrete about the figure; her vision swam but the figure was as clear as day in her dance.

Slowly but gracefully, the figure danced towards Mia, coming close and extending a hand. Mia took it without any fear and the figure pulled her to her feet. Within seconds, her mind cleared and her drunken stupor had vanished. And she was dancing. Mia and the figure, side by side, danced a most beautiful and graceful dance with all forms of leaps and twirls and rolls and small movements of the body. The song invigorated Mia, almost feeding her the movements. She had never trusted herself to dance before, but now she moved without thought, as every bit as ensnaring as the figure. In her dance she spotted another figure. This one was far unlike the white-dressed, raven-haired, purple-eyed dancer she was engaged in a graceful dance with. This one was the color of fog and seemed to retain its nebulous properties. Her dainty form twisted in and out of focus as Mia danced. The fog figure was singing the beautiful song she heard. Head thrown to the night sky and eyes closed, song poured from the nebulous figure's mouth.

Time seemed different as Mia danced. With every leap she felt it halt and hold its breath. With every twirl she felt it quicken like a heartbeat. With every pause she felt it wait patiently. Time and the sky were no longer her enemy, but her audience. Mia's thoughts began to fall into place, assembling the course of her life. The future was not concrete, but in this dance it held hope for Mia.

Eventually the song quieted and slowed, and Mia felt the dance ending. With one last pose, the dancing figure smiled at her. Inside, Mia felt calm for the first time in a while. The two figures slowly made their way back into the fog, the purple glow fading with the song. Still Mia stood there, locked into the last graceful pose as she yet again watched a light fade on the horizon, though this one was willed with much more hope and promise.