No Place Like Home

The End of the End

Seamus

Seamus said very little from the time they left the Ministry. In truth, he simply had nothing to say. The time had come. Ashlynn was leaving. That's all there was to it. Seamus was happy for her, of. Course he was, but she was leaving, and he couldn't pretend to be anything other than sad. He didn't know why it hit him so suddenly. He had know she was going to leave. Why had he let himself get so close? Seamus stood by the door to Ashlynn's apartment, watching as she squeezed all 66 sketchbooks into a duffle bag. She tucked her nunchucks into her coat pocket and wove the very air around her into a door. She looked back at him.

"Seamus... This doesn't have to be the end."

"Yes, it does." Seamus kept his eyes on the floor. "You know long distance relationships never work out."

"Maybe it doesn't have to be that way."

"You I've in a whole other universe, Ashlynn. I think it does."

"It's a choice, you know." Seamus said nothing. "Goodbye then. I love you, Seamus. Truly, I do." Seamus looked up, but she was already gone, and the door with her.

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Seamus Gorman. One morning Seamus walked past the London School of Arts on his way to the coffee shop down the street. As he passed by, Seamus glanced through the windows and was surprised to see a pretty girl with blue eyes and strawberry-blonde hair sitting inside, eyes closed, swaying slightly as if dancing, and painting a masterpiece. There was something different about this girl, he knew there was, but he couldn't quite place what. Perhaps it was the strange feeling of familiarity, as if Seamus had met the girl before or had perhaps been looking for her. Every morning after that, Seamus walked past the school to the coffee shop down the street, fascinated by the girl and her artwork, never realizing just how far he was falling for her. Most of a year passed in this manner before Seamus finally made contact with the girl. She had just seemed to perfect to touch. As if she would disappear just as he got close. And maybe she would. It seemed a very real possibility. But it was still a dream come true when they finally kissed.

But like all good things, it couldn't last. The girl had a dream, a purpose, and Seamus promised to help her achieve it. No matter that it meant he would never see her again. It was her dream, and who was Seamus to stand in the way of it? And when she finally did achieve it, Seamus couldn't even say goodbye. Because as much as he loved her, it hadn't been enough.

Ashlynn

Home. It was strange to be home. Ashlynn emerged onto the street in front of her house. The neighborhood seemed the same. It was mid-afternoon, and she could hear the shouts of unseen kids playing. The glaring difference was, of course, her house. It had burned down in the fire and had been rebuilt in a much more modern style. Though she had been expecting it, Ashlynn still felt a twang of sadness as she looked upon the new house. Well. There was no sense in delaying any longer.

Ashlynn approached the house. Knocked on the door. A smiling woman with dark hair and eyes opened the door. "Hello?"

"Oh, um hi." Ashlynn wasn't sure what to say. She had expected her family to be here, but perhaps they had moved after the fire. The woman tilted her head.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah. I'm looking for the family that lived here before. The house burned down about a year ago. I assumed they would still be here, but maybe they moved?" A strange look came over the woman's face.

"I'm sorry. The house burned down a year ago, as you said. It was all over the papers. There were no survivors." No survivors. No survivors. No... The woman's voice echoed in her head. The world was spinning. Fire was raging all around. No survivors. Fire, fire, everywhere. No survivors. She cried out for her family. There was no answer. No survivors.

"Are you alright?" Ashlynn looked at the woman. What sort of question was that?

"No." Ashlynn fell to the ground, sitting on the step.

"I'm sorry, did you know them?"

Ashlynn knew she should answer, but she couldn't summon words. Dead. They were dead. All of them. Ashlynn supposed she should be crying. Here eyes were dry. She supposed she should feel sad. She only felt numb. She stood and walked away from the house, through the neighborhood, wandering aimlessly. Dead. They were dead. Gone. No survivors. 'Not true', a voice said. 'You survived.' But she hadn't, not really. The fire still raged, surrounding her, suffocating her. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide - No. She could bring them back. She had a wand. Anything was possible. She could remake the world. She  could bring her family back. 

Ashlynn reached for the elements. the air around her. The water in a nearby fountain. The earth below her feet. The fire in her mind. She pulled them, molding them, shaping them. The music struck a false note. A broken chord. This wasn't listening. This wasn't dancing. But still she pressed on. she would have her family back. She would tear them from the music if she had to. 

"Listen to the music, Ashie. Do you hear it?" She was seven years old, holding her first pair of nunchucks. Padded ones, for beginners. "The music is the key," her father explained. "Hear it, listen to it, dance to it. If you can hear the music, no one will ever be able to stop you." There was no music now. 

"Listen to the music, Ashie. Do you hear it?" She was nine. Her mother sat next to her, holding her hand, guiding her pencil. "The music is the key. You have to listen to it, and your pencil will dance. Hear it, and it will guide you. Listen, and it will help you shape your dreams." There was no music now. 

Her mother's face emerged from the fire. Her father's. Her little brother. "Listen for the music, Ashie." Her father shook his head sadly. "This is not composing. This is no dance. It was never meant to work this way. Let it be."

They were gone. Gone. She couldn't bring them back. Her father was right. They weren't meant to come back. This was not composing. This was no dance. No one should ever have this power. The music was order. Balance. Ashlynn had no right to destroy it. She let them go. She couldn't bear it. 'So run,' the voice said. 'Run away. run until you can run no farther.' So she did.

Ashlynn ran. Jumping through door after door after door. She stopped listening to the world around her, hearing only the voice that urged her, 'run, run, run,' Through cities and countrysides and mountaintops and dried river beds. From world to world she ran, without a thought to where she was going, only that she was. She could outrun her family. Her ghosts. Her fire. Ashlynn ran and ran until she could run no farther. She fell to the floor and looked around, briefly registering that she was in Seamus's apartment before collapsing to the floor.

Seamus entered the room, "Ashlynn? What are you - Ash!" just as she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.