2 ~ Keeping it Together
Usually, things that ended up going wrong for her she had a direct hand in doing. Sunset had been there, been -- at the very least -- part of the cause of it, so she had some idea how to make things better. Right, normally such things were her fault which allowed her to accept her flaws, learn, figure things out, and move on. Granted, of course, the events of the day were indeed her fault. Though, as the wind practically knocked her to the ground and water relentlessly bashed against her face, she concluded the only way to have not had this portion of the day occur was to never have departed bed at all. To make things worse, it had gotten dark -- not just an average dark evening; this was practically pitch black and what visibility she did have was constrained by impenetrable fog.
Of course, unfortunately, she did have one guiding light: a single flash seemingly randomly happening and, if it hadn't been that the one noise to cut through the unrelenting wind and rain was getting louder and more on the heels of each flash, Sunset would have been more at ease. Especially as she usually enjoyed being out during storms. However, just like everything else that day, the favorable version of the experience was just not the case. All she felt she could do was keep trudging forward regardless of exhaustion which made each subsequent step seem more impossible than its predecessor ... it was upon recognizing this feeling that she concluded she could not walk anymore. When she did decide to stop in her tracks, she refused resisting stomping her heel into the ground -- not unlike a child too upset to even know what to have a temper tantrum over. Of course, she quickly regretted her frustrations when she heard and felt a splash.
Water had to be puddled right there -- right where she stopped -- to get on her leg and inside her already messed up boot. She let out a shaky breath; her feet hurt, her limbs were shaking as though she was dehydrated, she felt gross, it was cold and the fact she was wet just made it colder, and the wind just kept making it worse and worse and horribly worse. Though that was not all, of course not, claps of thunder and quick, intense flashes of light startled her more and more. Sunset could only muster in her mind that this sucked, and that it must have been by far the worst day she had ever been alive for. In fact, she had no idea what experience there might be when one dies, but ... is there any way it could be worse than this? Enraged -- infuriated -- she took in as much air into her lungs as she felt she could, completely disregarded the potential idiocy and waste of energy of her next action, and screamed the first things that came to her mind.
"I JUST CAN'T STAND THIS! THIS IS THE WORST!" Sunset didn't stop screaming until she exhausted all the breath, which wasn't much, she had taken in. Alas, that was about the time her shaky legs finally failed to remain straight and she collapsed to her knees. Thunder roared in apparent mockery which led her ears to find that her voice didn't seem to carry even a few meters into the distance. Not only was she absolutely infuriated with everything, but she couldn't bring the single inconvenience of, at the very least, disrupting the rain's cadence? Granted, despite her irritation, it was probably incredibly serene from a warm, dry home. Though, to Sunset, Mother Nature would just not give her anything ... like she was an interloper in the world, completely outside the universe's natural plan.
That was it. Sunset couldn't take anymore, as she hung her head she couldn't even see the ground beneath her. Though she could feel mud and asphalt, she also felt water but was certain some volume of it was made of her own tears. Am I miserable? Is this what being miserable feels like? Her bottom lip quivered at the thought, as she felt unable to even comprise coherent sentences of depression without sounding feeble. Whimpering just to keep from vocalizing her sobbing, she poised to fall to the ground like a dying bird. Did people I hurt over the years feel like this whenever I was around? ... I felt better about myself while those I put down felt anything remotely like this? How did I even get that way? Now, from where she was and what she'd learned, she couldn't wish this upon those she hated most. It's all over, came the voice in her head and suddenly the thought repeated. It's all over. It's all over ... everything.
Her head began to ache, she felt nauseous, and she didn't know she was leaning forward until her arms instinctively went forward to stop her face from meeting the ground. Even then, her arms were shaking violently and she felt herself lowering down. Onto one elbow, then the other, and her head just started to get worse; instead of an ache, it felt like someone was pounding the back of her head with a rock and her eyelashes seemed to transmute to lead. She thought she needed to get up and get moving, fight through it regardless, but the wind, the rain, the thunder. Everything around seemed to be telling her to stay down. Even her own mind supported the idea: What's the point? Why not just rest here? Just a while ... I'll lie my head down.
Darkness is the only thing around, so what do I need my eyes open for anyway? Sunset's neck muscles felt immediately better as she let them expand; no longer did they have to work to hold her head above the ground, the throbbing pain in the back of her head seemed to be alleviated, and she started feeling a little warm -- like there was a blanket around her shoulders. Nice, soft, and warm. Thoughts refocused, she looked forward to the feeling of her head striking the ground. To be completely relieved of duty sounded like heaven to her.
Only it seemed that, as long as she waited, her head just kept falling as though she had been there for minutes ... falling in slow motion with infinite time to reflect upon anything so desired. Have I ever thought at such a speed before? Not to memory, but what was that one thing? Maybe it was something important, and maybe it's just trivial knowledge. Sunset mused, Something about the dilation of time... right before you...
THONK! "Ouch..." Sunset grunted out while her hands found a source of pain behind her head and her eyes worked open. Slowly, thoughts pieced their way into her mind and she noted the sound of something large behind her resounding throughout the room. The headboard ... As Sunset rolled onto her left side -- one hand remaining on the back of her head -- she reached over to check the time; it was exactly three in the morning. Three hours passed since she fell asleep and five since she arrived. Woe is me; I'm just glad to get any sleep. Sensibly, a long yawn escaped her as she began rubbing sleep from her eyes, but she then stopped cold. There was a person there, right at the foot of her bed, simply staring at her.
She blinked but it didn't seem to be an hallucination while it definitely stared at her. They seemed to be speaking quite a string of sentences; though Sunset must have had her ears displaced from sleep for she didn't hear a word of it. Chills went down her spine as she opened her own mouth to say something but no question words she knew of came out, and she didn't even have a chance to be startled before the next startling thing happened.
"Gah!" Sunset gasped out while her eyes physically cracked open and she threw the comforter off her in panic. Hyperventilating, she was at least able to note that she was on the floor rather than her bed and quickly used that bed to get to her feet. She scanned the room frantically; a messy bed, a wood floor with no carpet, red and yellow comforter on the floor courtesy of her, a barren pine desk with some drawers, an unpainted cedar nightstand on the other side of her bed, and a door-shaped opening which led to her kitchen and -- ultimately -- the door outside surrounded her. More important, no one else but herself resided in the room. Mildly to release anger and mildly to calm down, she remarked aloud, "stupid subconscious with your stupid false awakenings."
Indeed, she found it annoying but she also remembered each moment of those dreams. For Sunset, that usually was not the case. Most often, she'd simply awaken and by the time of her coffee she'd be surprised if she remembered even an image, but what she just experienced had been so real, so vivid. Regardless that some things were not quite right, the overall feel of those dreams definitely resided in her mind at that moment -- especially the word she'd said during her false awakening which she recognized as the ending to a thought she had in the dream prior, and as much as she wished not to think about it she remembered the way it felt for the word to roll off her lips: ...die.
Sunset shook her head and decided she did not need to think about it as she had more pressing matters to attend to. Of course, the most exciting action she considered was the first she went to do: checking the time -- to see what time it really was -- but she took a moment before approaching the nightstand to dig her fingernail into her collar bone. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. "Ouch!" Pretty much all of her was sore, but doing that did not assist. Well, at least she was somewhat confident she was awake albeit with an even more sore neck. Upon retrieving her phone from the nightstand, she took a deep breath and pressed the guide button. In seconds, the device sparked to life and in turn so did Sunset's grin.
Just half passed five in the morning! She'd meant to cheer it to and for herself, but was trying not to be loud. After all, it's not like I live alone in my own building. And sure, maybe five hours wasn't exactly what she'd call beauty sleep, but it was better than three in her book. Another thing she was glad she'd done before going to sleep was to clean herself up and throw on some generally in-tact, clean clothes. Certainly something she thanked her past self for this morning, but for Sunset a clean pair of clothes and five hours of sleep had nothing on the drink that would make her want to actually perform tasks today. For the moment, she even left the comforter on the floor, more looking forward to rounding the wall that lead to her beautiful kitchen.
Beautifully small kitchen, that is to say, but who could complain when the place was practically free? There was also the fact that it tended to be quiet, and Sunset preferred peace and quiet. Although her eyes fell upon a half-broken coffee machine next to a stove, she set aside her appreciation for serenity to set upon the patience-requisite task of getting water to boil. Sure, it was easy, just flip a switch for a burner, put a pot with some water on it, and wait, but it would be easier to just pour the water into the back of the machine, put the grounds in, and push a button. Though, she supposed, the ultimate result was the same: glorious coffee. While she didn't really care about how she got her coffee; she did enjoy the idea of not watching water boil, so -- heaving a sigh at her fatigue -- she leaned back on the very wall she just woke up on the other side of and glanced toward the door which opened into her abode ... and saw what she dreaded seeing: her boots.
Just to the side of the door, on a small hand towel, sat a pair of boots that may have literally been decimated. First, she grimaced at the thought of dealing with them, but nonetheless walked over to initiate examination. Going to one knee, she lightly grabbed both of them by the back of the calves, lifted, and ... they fell apart; the heels and soles fell out first, giving the insoles their time to be seen. Soaked and torn, she even saw dirt outlining where her foot had once been. Topping the list was that the zippers were clearly rusted and cracking. Sunset chuckled, "Ahaa.. hahaha," but she was just staving off the water that began to form in her eyes. They were such good boots, and they served me so well. Looking away, she knew a great comrade had just passed, but she needed shoes. Alas, another thing added to the list of stuff she destroyed: her dear boots. Honestly, it was a wonder she made it home with them -- well, really, she had removed them before ascending the stairs of her apartment complex in fear that they were going to break.
Somberly, she realized, That ship obviously sailed before I boarded, and it had my boots on it, but she couldn't dwell. Colder months were coming and she couldn't just walk around barefoot. Actually, she could ... after losing feeling in her feet due to frostbite it would probably not be too terrible, but there were other options. With a quick stand and turn -- and a glance at still-not-boiling water on the stove -- she found herself in a bathroom. Nothing much adorned it, just standard facilities, but there was a small cupboard to the entrance's left in which she kept few things. Regardless, she was sure she had other shoes in there. Grabbing and turning a round little handle -- and giving it a swing -- revealed: a pair of high heels. How about no. Pushing these aside showed another pair of high heels and her face drooped until she located a pair of slightly-worn, black-and-white slippers which she gratefully saw and concluded she couldn't wait for a new pair of boots, but -- boots or not -- frostbite was worse.
Closing that cupboard after receiving temporary footwear actually required a bit of force (the door was slightly canted) though she cared to be quiet for she disliked the way the wood creaked at her touch. No matter, she moved on, slipping her feet into something and turning to leave the room, but as soon as her eyes found their new general direction she froze; she found herself staring right into a mirror and immediately felt awful. Luckily for her, there was a wastebasket only steps away, but she instead chose to evacuate the sight as fast as possible ... only to carelessly stub her toe into the corner of the door. Ugh! See, if she had a pair of boots on, that wouldn't have hurt nearly as much, and while a grunt of pain was mildly relieving she just couldn't resist the urge to curse.
"Dammit." Muttering profanity generally was not her thing but she was glad to have kept it quiet while she hopped on one foot to let the pain die down. Talking to herself usually helped as well. "Oh, okay, more things can suck too. That's fine, just give me coffee." Seeing small bubbles in the pot on the stove wasn't exactly what she'd call boiling, but ... Who cares? If I let it boil, with what my luck's been, I'll just burn myself; at this point she just wanted coffee and was glad to open the back of her coffee machine to find fresh grounds placed in a filter already. Had she been less excited, due to what already happened this morning, that she did this last night, she most likely would not have been smiling as she turned the burner off, took the water off the stove, and began to pour it down the filter into the waiting basin below.
One comforter haphazardly retrieved and an hour later found Sunset sitting in a newly-made bed, in a much better mood, with a second cup of coffee in her hands. Also finding herself happy that at least the hot plate of her coffee machine worked to keep the drink warm, or she might've thrown it out by now. Well, I'd break the damn thing more first and then throw it out. At any rate, she was feeling much better having coffee with sugar in her hands; even though she didn't enjoy the sensation sugar left in her mouth all that much, she felt it was a nice addition to keep her sanity in check this particular morning.
Alas, like anything she had gotten to enjoy lately, it was going to have to come to an end soon. Granted, the principal let her stop working early last night due to the fact that she seemed, 'tired,' which to Sunset just sounded like the state she was actually in had been recognized. However, getting off early also meant going in early and Sunset believed if she didn't live up to the expectation of being there by ten that morning it would not bode well for her.
Not that things had been boding well for her recently but there was no reason she could see to make things worse. With the pace that Sunset expected she could move in her current condition, she expected to take at least an hour to walk all the way there. Hell, it might even take her two. Sunset's subsequent sigh sent ripples through her coffee, and she knew -- if she wanted to exercise the better part of valor -- she'd have to bathe and dress probably right after she drained the warm liquid in her mug. She laid back with another extended exhale, careful to keep her mug upright, closed her eyes, and let herself groan. Keeping with that mood of frustration, she thought it quite alright to whine a little bit. After all, things hadn't quite gone the way she'd wanted, so she said the first thing that came to her mind.
"This is the worst ... "
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I liked this chapter. I was kinda disappointed that the part with the storm was just a dream, though. It was really well-written, and I thought it was really happening, which would've been pretty interesting.
Overall, there were a few mistakes here and there, but the chapter was for the most part grammatically correct, so that was good to see. The emphasis on her fault read kinda weird, but it wasn't a huge problem. I also don't think you needed to bold the word worst here--
--since the bold just serves the same purpose as the italics you've been using.
Lastly, I've seen a lot of stories where Sunset laments the loss of her leather jacket after her defeat, but this is the first story I read where she laments the loss of her boots. Very nice.
7733115 I tend to agree with your comment about the bold, and I suppose that the original reason I put it there was probably because I noticed I was using a lot of italics RIP. Though on another note, the dream sequence was originally meant as a real occurrence, but that changed when I couldn't for the life of me figure out where to go from there and had this little inspiration. Guess I knew I had the right idea at first, but what's done is done, and I'm looking forward to expanding more throughout the world I've designed (which is basically a pile of random drawings and notes on ideas at this point I guess).
However I told much of my family about my ideas for this story and they seem to be keen to share their own thoughts and opinions, so thanksgiving couldn't have been any better timed! I feel that a lot of my work on the next chapter and beyond will largely stem from some of the things they share with me and what we come up with. But on one last note before I head to bed: it was kind of a spontaneous decision to make the boots the ruined attire, and it was only because it seemed to make sense that her footwear would go bad first I think. At any rate I'm glad that you received it well as I thought it was a good idea myself, but I'm looking forward to having zero grammatical errors and more properly relayed information in future writings. And I thank ye for yer thoughts mon ami!
7744697 You're welcome! Yeah, I understand that you couldn't find out where to go from the dream sequence if it were real. I certainly can't think of much other than the standard "one of her friends saves her" plotline.
I hope you enjoy your Thanksgiving, and I'm glad your family is supportive of the story. I'm looking forward to more.
I like your story but I'd space out your paragraphs, long ones tend to blur in the eyes of the reader and make it feel like they're reading a wall. How a paragraph is structured can be what turns a reader on or off. Just thought I'd spare some friendly advice.
9345037
I feel the same way about that. Though it's a little awkward to judge the length from the actual story writer to the story's display without switching from edit mode (maybe it's just something set on my browser though, I dunno). Of course looking back on the story after so long I find I certainly have learned quite a lot. Advice is appreciated at any time. Maybe I'll go back and space it better if I feel the energy
9345037
Actually looking back at it now I'll definitely break them up more XD. THEY ARE WALLS. THEY BURN MY EYES.
I see it, I want it to read well ... but a different part of me ... doesn't. I mean, it's hard for me to read, and I wrote the damn thing (at least I did in my memory), as much as I want it fixed I kinda do appreciate seeing this poorer skill give way to a newer understanding.
Yeah, that's all an excuse, you probably figured that out pretty quick. It's just ... so ... daunting ... to imagine fixing ... I won't cry or wine-
Who am I kidding? Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about work QQ T_T ;-; U.U
I would like to take one line here, though, to say: for as poor as this chapter is in parts, it still made my eyes water and gave me a shred of empathy toward this character, so that's good. Not to mention I didn't even catch the symbolism between her boots falling apart in a chapter named Keeping it Together as though she's doing about as well as her boots.
Conclusion: I'll fix it ...
Maybe in another two years.
Aww, those poor boots
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They're the real victim here.