Umbrella Sky

                         IT WAS KINDA LIKE she was just there. In front of me, she stood looking up at the sky. It was sunny, blue skies, no clouds. Yet she had an umbrella out, and it was open. Then I realized she wasn't looking at the sky. She was looking at the inside of her umbrella. I was behind her, and I caught a glimpse of the umbrella, the underneath of it. It was blue, painted with clouds on it. It looked like a real honest-to-goodness sky, right on her umbrella. That was my first encounter with the Umbrella Sky.

                        My name is Luke. I'm fifteen years old. I didn't know her name. I didn't know how old she was. She looked the same age as me, though. Anyway, I saw her again that night as I walked home from cram school. She was in the park, looking up at that umbrella. I finally got up the nerve and sat down on the sings by her. She nodded a hello at me. I returned the gesture. She moved the umbrella in the middle of us, and we both looked up into it. This time, it was painted black, with white dots as stars. I wondered if she painted it every time the lighting changed.

                       After a while, I had to go. I told her goodbye. She waved. I asked her name. She took my hand and wrote "Lucy" on it. I asked if she was mute. She nodded. I left.

                        I saw her again that morning. Lucy was walking by, looking at her umbrella. I saw it change as the sky brightened. I asked her if her umbrella was magic. She laughed silently, then wrote "Yes" on my hand. I smiled goofily, realizing how stupid that must have sounded. But she wrote on my hand, "My umbrella changes with the sky, or with my emotions. If it's sunny out, but I'm sad, the umbrella will show rainclouds. Cool, huh?" I nodded. We walked the other way, going to our destination.

                      My fourth encounter with the Umbrella Sky was rather terrifying. At the park that night, the umbrella was there, but she was not. I found her coughing blood over the side of the swings. I asked if she was okay, if I should call the hospital. She smiled and shook her head "No". She shrugged, writing, "It's a disease I have. But my grandfather gave me the umbrella to heal me in some way, so I know I'll be okay." I smiled. 

                       I tried telling my dad about the Umbrella Sky. He obviously didn't believe me. He threw something at me because he was drinking. My mother just tried not to be noticed as dad yelled. I went into my room. Seeing Lucy and the Umbrella Sky became something I desired. Something I needed, something that sustained me, as precious as air and water.

                      Lucy had once told me that she had a raincoat to go with the umbrella. How the raincoat glowed purple and green and blue at night, looking like the universe. I wished I could have seen it. Lucy said she was pretty in it, then laughed. I told her she was pretty anyways. She wrote, "Thank you, Luke. You're very handsome too." We both cracked up.

                       I can't tell what Lucy is to me anymore. I used to think she was my friend, but now I sometimes find myself holding her hand, or telling her she's pretty. She never objects to holding hands (as she sometimes starts it) and she always laughs and looks away when I tell her how cute she is. Every time she compliments me, I feel my face flush.

                      I'm in love with Lucy.

                      I'm scared she will think I'm an idiot or something, so I act as if I don't know this. One day, though, she forced it out of me. She wrote, "Hey, are we a couple?" I freaked out, and she asked me if I liked her. I told her yes, I did. She beamed. "So we're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?" she wrote. I said yes, if she wanted to be. She said she did. So we are.

                      Lucy told me that she could once talk. But one day she started losing her voice, and in the next few weeks, it was gone. I asked her if she missed talking. "Not when there are people like you, who don't need words." she wrote. Again, my face flushed. It was true though. It was as if we portrayed our feelings through the air between us. 

                       I didn't see Lucy for a few days, and then I got a call saying she was in the hospital. I went to visit her. She smiled when she saw me and wrote, "Will you take the umbrella?" I wondered if she thought she would die, and furiously shook my head no. She laughed. "Silly, I won't die. I just don't want anyone stealing it. Just keep it for me, just for a few days while I recover." When I left, I took the umbrella.

                       Lucy was out of the hospital in a few days. She was all smiles, thanking me for visiting her everyday. I would have even if she didn't notice. We broke out the umbrella again, and watched everything change underneath that Umbrella Sky.

                       Lucy was back in the hospital the next day. She had a high fever and she kept coughing blood. Something was wrong with her trachea, or her lungs, or her liver, I can't remember which. All I remember is praying she'd be okay.

                       Lucy asked me to take the umbrella home again. She kept smiling, though she was pale and her eyes were bloodshot. I said okay and took it home.

                      It rained the day Lucy died. She had no relatives, so only me and my mother came to her funeral. I waited for my mother to wander off and allowed myself to cry a bit. I wish I had told her how much I liked her. I wish I held her hand those last few moments. I opened her umbrella, looking up into it. It was beautiful, just like Lucy. Just then, a strong gust of wind blew the umbrella from my hands. I chased after it, my hand outstretched in front of me. Opening, closing. Missing, missing, missing, missing. I finally caught it, panting. The inside was just as Lucy described her raincoat. All colours swirled around in it, and I felt nostalgic.

                     Everything changed underneath that Umbrella Sky.

                                                      Always Yours, 

                                                           HaruChi

The Starers

                                              IT WAS intoxicating. The feeling of being watched, being seen. The Starers were always watching her. Why? She didn’t know. But wherever she went, they whispered her name over and over, as if it tickled their lips just to say the name. Elegance, Elegance. Elegance pretended not to notice. Their look was adoration. But lately, they looked mad. They looked angry, disapproving. We know what you did, Elegance!! We know what you did! She was scared. What had she done? What had she done. . .to make the Starers angry?

                                              “You worry too much, Elegance.” Crescent said, smiling gently. “No, you’re not listening. They’re angry.” Elegance whispered, scared. “Lord! Elegance, if you went to anyone else but me, they’d have thought you were stuck-up for thinking everyone’s looking at you!” he said, rolling his eyes. “That’s why I came to you, Crescent. I can trust you more than anyone.” she said, averting her eyes. Crescent’s look softened. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay.” he said. “Just don’t worry about it, Ellie. You’ll be fine.” Crescent finished. Elegance nodded sadly. She was never too right in the head to begin with. She’s crazy. Elegance whirled on her heel, surprised. “Did you hear them?! They were whispering about me!” she hissed, clinging to Crescent’s arm. “I honestly didn’t hear anything,” Crescent said, shrugging. He pulled away. “Go home, okay? You should get some rest and chill. I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll pick you up and I’ll treat you to the best artery-clogging food we can find, ‘kay?” he said brightly. “Okay. Bye.” she murmured, walking down the road. Crazy was a little much. Maybe paranoid, but no, no, not crazy. “There are rumors. About Crescent.” she thought. Yes, the rumors. Rumors he was somewhat. . .different. He didn’t seem to mind the rumors, though. He only smiled and played along, and everyone loved him. They avoided Elegance, who was dark and gloomy, despite her very sunny, cute look. They flocked to Crescent, who had a malevolent look, but was very kind and optimistic. He is the sun, and I am the rain cloud. Yet they were inseparable. “Annoying. She’s so annoying.” Crescent mumbled. “How ridiculous. How annoying. I’m ending this tonight, Ellie. . .” he said, beguiled, watching her figure fade.

                                              Ravage. Tear. We will break you. We know what you did, Elegance. You can’t run. . .Our dear, sweet Elegance. Elegance was feeling sick. She was walking behind Crescent’s lanky form, while he chatted away. “Are you even listening to me, Ellie?!” he demanded, frowning. “W-What? Oh, yes, yes, I am!” she said, turning red. He raised an eyebrow. Elegance bowed her head. “I just zoned out a little. I’m sorry.” she murmured. “Do you need to go home?” Crescent asked. “No, I’m fine, sorry.” she insisted, smiling. “Don’t worry, don’t worry.” he answered, laughing. “Uhm. . .But I know something that’ll make me feel better.” she said quietly. She glanced around. It seemed everyone was staring at her. She felt small, insignificant. “Well, if it’s in my power, I’ll do it.” he said brightly. “O-Okay. Well, I want you to listen to me.” Elegance mumbled. “Sure? Don’t I already?” Crescent asked, wrinkling his nose. “Well, yes, but I want to talk about. . .you know. . .the whispers.” she said timidly. Yes. Elegance’s fears were usually the core of their conversations. About how she was scared. Everyone noticed her, hated her. She looked up when he said nothing. He was glaring down at her. She shivered, shocked. He had never looked so angry, so malevolent. He clicked his tongue, but then his usual expression reappeared. “I gave you a second chance, Ellie, because I like you. But you’ve totally wasted it, and it hasn’t even been a full day yet.” he said, sighing and shaking his head. “Bye bye, Ellie. See you later. ♥” he said, waving and walking away. She watched, shocked. His figure jumped a fence and was gone. Without him there, everyone stared at her. Their voices grew louder. Silly, beautiful Elegance. You shouldn’t have talked about yourself so much. All you ever talk about is you, you, you, you. It’s no wonder he got so fed up with you. Shocked, Elegance reeled back. She whirled around, stunned, everyone staring at her. “STOP STARING AT ME!!!!!!!!” she shrieked, darting away. The whispers grew louder, the stares angrier. “STOP IT!!!” Elegance screamed. She clamped her hands down onto her ears, tears streaming down her cheeks. Black figures were racing behind her, desperate to reach her. They reached out, screeching things unimaginable. “STOP IT!!!” she screamed a final time, and they disappeared. 

                                              “I imagined it. . .” Elegance murmured sometime later. She had been running for a long time, stopping once in a while to sob and catch her breath. It was already evening, the blackness bathed in the paleness from the moonlight. She was completely, irreversibly lost. She blamed her destination for not being where she was headed. “Those people chasing me. . .weren’t even real. Maybe I am crazy. . .” she whispered. “The only thing crazier than a crazy person is a crazy person who knows they’re crazy.” a voice said behind her. She whirled on her heel, thrashing her arms out. The male caught her blows, and leaned closer to her face. He smiled gently. He was cute, wearing big-rimmed glasses that made him look more mature than nerdy. His blonde hair tumbled around his shoulders, making him look like some sort of novel character from a fantasy genre. To top off the ‘totally suspicious’ image he had going, he wore a Gothic mini-hat tilted to the side and all black. His jacket hung loosely around his elbows. “OH GOD!! A PERVERT!! SOMEONE HELP ME!!” she shrieked, struggling from his grasp. He pouted. “How rude. Madame, I assure you, I implore you, I am not a stalker or a pervert or a weirdo. My name is Blood.” he said, grinning. He stepped back and bowed with a flourish. Heart pounding from the adrenaline, she snapped, “What do you want?!” Blood’s grin broadened. “Nothing, Elegance, my dear. Just to warn you. I am one of the Starers.” he said coyly. Elegance felt her heart falter, skipping, like, forty beats. “H-how do you know about that name?! How do you know my name?!” she demanded. “Elegance, open your eyes, sweetie. I know your name because I’m a Starer. A good one. A very good one. I want to protect you. And you mumble, you know? When you’re talking with your friend what’s-his-name, you start mumbling. The Starers. They’re watching me. The Starers. Tear. . .Break. . .Ahem, so on and so forth. You must not even notice you’re mumbling, silly girl.”   Blood intoned, laughing. Elegance took a step back, overwhelmed. She was mumbling about Them. . .?! They were taking over her life! “Elegance, listen up. Everyone knows what you did. They’re planning the dark deeds they want to carry out. Unto you they will cast Divine Punishment. Atonement for your sins. . .it has a price, huh?” he said, shrugging. “Anyways, don’t worry! ♥ I’m sure you’ll be fiiiiiiine. They’re coming for you. . .” Blood cackled. Elegance didn’t hear the rest, because she had run off.

                                              Elegance had reached home by midnight. She was sitting in the kitchen, sullen, silent. The great clock in that room, a grandfather clock, was the only sound heard. Tick. Tick. Tick. Elegance stared down at her hands. Her face portrayed no emotion whatsoever. She had already snapped. Nothing made sense. Everything was a jumble. She saw words written on the wall, and her mind couldn’t connect that there was nothing actually there.
            Blood, leaning on a wall where Elegance had been backed against, took his blonde wig off. He threw it to the ground, then threw the glasses he wore against the wall, shattering them. He dropped his jacket. Blood— no, no, not Blood. Crescent. He was Crescent. Blood was his alias. His alias who had just helped shut Elegance up. “She was so annoying. . .” he murmured. Yes, the rumors about him were true. He wasn’t crazy, no, no, no, not crazy. Just. . .creative. Yes, creative. Inspirational. Crescent smiled, then grinned, his eyes widening. Laughter erupted from him. “My sweet Ellie! Good night!”

                                              Red is such a pretty colour. When there’s a lot of red at one time, it almost appears black. Elegance would have admired all the red, but her eyes were glazed over. She was lying on the floor. The knife had clattered to the ground when she cut her throat. The words around her were too much. The whispers had turned to screams. The black figures were then everywhere, whispering sweet nothings into her ears. Before she snapped like a taut string, They chanted, Elegance, Elegance, Elegance! Sweet entrancing Elegance. Join us here, join us now, come with us forever. Even in death, she had felt like she had lost. She gave Them what They wanted. She had given the Starers what they had wanted. Ultimately, she had failed. At what ever game she had been playing with the Starers, she had lost. Check. . .mate.

                                              Crescent bit his lip, trembling. His nails dug into his skin as he held himself, as if cold. He had noticed it as soon as he left his house. They were all staring at him. . .and whispering. . .

The End