~Ramona~
Red colored the sink a surprising shade of orange when the knife slid over my fingers; I winced when it occurred. My fingers were already wrinkly from doing the dishes for so long, so why did I have to deal with a cut?
I sighed, kicking off the counter and flinging my wet hands around in an attempt to dry them a bit. All it did was spray the cabinets with nasty liquid.
Crimson dripped onto the ground somewhat ominously. I wiped it off with a towel before it could spread. While I was busy wincing and trying to turn my fingers back into a normal shade, I heard Liam clinking around upstairs, metal rattling with an echo.
Was he painting?
I sighed, allowing the towel in my hands to slide to the counter. Settling my gaze downward, I recalled what Liam had said previously about meeting someone.
I didn't want to, really. At all. The thought made me shiver, chills running up my spine like I was freezing. But I wasn't; it was simply the idea of someone else showing up and not being Liam. Or Markus. I could probably handle Markus at this point. And by "handle", I mean staying in the same area as him without running away screaming for at least 10 seconds.
Liam was... some sort of freaky amalgamation that I didn't know how to respond to.
I perked up when I heard Liam's footsteps clunking down the stairs. He wasn't holding anything, though, and simply crammed something in his pocket as he came to the bottom of the steps. I glimpsed shining silver from his hands, though.
"Going out, Liam?" I inquired, biting the flesh of my lip.
He shrugged, closing his eyes like he was just deciding what to do. But, waving his car keys in my face and snorting, he replied. "Suppose so."
My mouth tasted sour as he waved me off.
With him gone, I was left to my own devices, silently abandoned. I swallowed, glancing down at my slashed, dry fingers and wondering what the hell I should do when I was alone. But, as I observed the somewhat empty sink and now-empty house, I knew what I wanted to do.
Kuzu no Honkai was something I'd stumbled upon one day, late at night when I was flipping through the shattered channels on the television and slowly but surely dozing off. I was intrigued by the cover on the DVD, the sight of lust and anxiety stated clearly in the same place.
I knew what it felt like to have a Scum's Wish and live wistfully, falling in love and falling out of it with those who don't belong.
My eyes fluttered shut when I settled onto the leather of the couch, touching it gingerly and feeling the chill seep through my bones. I wondered vaguely what Liam was doing. Shopping, perhaps? Walking around?
Or, maybe, retrieving something?
I didn't know. It wasn't like I could really do anything about it either. Lately things had been awkward between us--like this odd barrier had collapsed between us and then rebuilt itself even stronger than before. Now the challenge was to simply find a way through to the other side.
I had a feeling that Liam would help me through.
Soon enough, exhaustion flooded my tired body and I succumbed to exhaustion.
~~~
~Ramona~
7 years ago
Voices.
They spoke rapid and sharp, unique and strong. Hushed tones, great words, and silenced tongues. Languages built out of dust and ashes.
"The phoenix never rises from the ashes clean and unscathed."
Darkness.
Immense black, shadowed more than the mighty night sky. Not even a twinkle of the slightest bit of light shines through. It swallows this earth up in its power, its strength, and its ferocity.
"A river cuts through rock not because of its power but because of its persistence."
Loss.
The most delicate of emotions that can either make you or break you. Distance, silence, and heartbreak; these are the ideas associated with it.
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside yourself."
I swallowed harshly. Words. Quotes. Languages. Too much.
I allowed tears to prick at my eyes for only a moment before coughing once into my sleeve and speaking with a trembling voice.
"After discovering the supercluster that contains our planet and the Milky Way, scientists wanted to properly convey what a wonder the cluster was," I cleared my throat and glanced up at the gazing eyes of my fellow students. "They chose to name the supercluster from Hawaiian roots, calling it Laniakea."
"Laniakea contains thousands of stars and planets, more than we can even comprehend. So much potential and reason simply stated in a name. But I want you to think about this for a moment: what is the true meaning of the word Laniakea? What does it tell the world about where we are, and how does it affect us? After research, I saw that Laniakea is defined as 'heavenly bodies, magnificence, and power'. Isn't that incredible?
In my next presentation, I will tell you more about our position in the solar system, Laniakea itself, and more about the supercluster's contents. Thank you."
I ended my speech with a little bob of my head and a bow, thanking God that I managed to get anything done at all.
For me, high school consisted mainly of mental breakdowns, silence, and procrastination. But that was just for me. I supposed that there were rare people out there that actually enjoyed it. Those guys were the type that nobody really liked being around though. Who wants someone who decides to come to this hellhole?
I took a Speech class in hopes that I might be at least slightly decent at it; I supposed that I had succeeded. Although it did disappoint me that, after all this time and effort on this particular speech, I didn't get to complete the presentation until Monday. I was actually quite interested in Laniakea and its definition. It lived up to its description.
After I had bowed and excused myself to sit down, my teacher handed me my rubric with no expression. But I still saw it: the twinkle in her eyes of intrigue.
Luckily, it being a Friday, class let out earlier than the rest of the days and I yanked my bag off the floor at the first toll of the bell. Screw that "The bell doesn't dismiss you, I do" shit. Isn't it illegal to hold students after the bell?
I scrambled out the classroom door before my teacher could notice I'd already left. I folded myself in-between people's arms, squeezing my body through tighter spaces to try to get to the gymnasium quicker. Tripping my way through the crowd and cramming myself through gaps in people, I found that I had made it.
I sighed with relief before scanning the place for an open seat; people seemed to have already claimed their territory there. I flounced into the first one I saw without much thought, my eyes closing before I could even sit down.
And then I heard it: that familiar snicker, the laugh that drove me absolutely insane. A pause in speech, then a female giggle.
I groaned, ducking my head low so that they didn't see me.
The bullies of the school were locally known. They often caused trouble around town without even the slightest sign of remorse. They were a real hassle to not only the citizens of Boulder but also to my stepfather, who ran most of the businesses there. He constantly griped about how they were busy defacing and destroying some of his public property. After a while of hearing that, it stuck with me. It made me hate them as well with a burning passion.
There was Laurie, who was the typical high school prick. She spent most of her time being a third wheel and trying to overthrow the hierarchy of the group with her drama. Steven, who was the beancounter of the guys, was only there because he had some serious anger issues and looked innocent. Riley was Darren's girlfriend and the one who was always threatening to kick Laurie's ass. And Darren was the leader of the irritating pack: someone who was 6' 5" and had a body that was way too disproportionate.
And it just so happened that they loved harassing a little someone named Ramona Syleman. Who just so happened to be ME.
I slid my hood over my head. I didn't have high hopes of them letting me be, but one had to at least believe in the impossible. Darren's thunking footsteps echoed, luckily, just over my head on the steps and let his hulking figure flop into a chair.
A hushed sigh of relief escaped my lungs just before the gym coach meandered into the room. He stood at the center of it, addressing us teenagers like we were another species. And then, with a casual wave of his hand, hundreds of people stood to rush out the door.
Let me tell you one thing about dismissal time: it's every man for himself.
People jump over the fence dividing the bleachers and the gym floor just to bolt out the side door. Everyone's pushing and nobody's getting anywhere. If you fall on the floor you're left on the floor, trampled by dirty feet. People scream at you to go faster just as you're being slammed into the wall. And it's so, so loud, so unbelieveably noisy that your eardrums might just burst.
I was one of the unlucky ones that day, who, were unable to hop the fence and make a quick escape from the mayhem. Feet thudded. People yelled. I was crammed into the sound and the wave of humans that made me so uncomfortable.
The kid in front of me was really slow. I kept looking over his shoulder to see just how fast he could be going. But he simply swiveled his head around to me and gave me a deadly glare, so I stopped. But today, I still wonder why the hell that random person couldn't just go on. Take a chance. Live a little, like these people behind us. And don't go too slowly, either, because that will make what's about to happen occur.
Something touched my butt. I shrugged it off.
More pushing and yelling out the gym doors. Another touch.
My eyebrow twitched at the second one.
And then, something squeezed it.
I jerked my head around behind me, rage running hot and unwelcome through my veins, only to see the school's top bully, Darren.
What a dumbass name…
I gathered myself, took a deep breath, and shouldered all the anger in my body just before I socked him in the jaw.
~~~
~Liam~
~Two years ago~
I thought that the weather today wouldn't be so bad, but it seems that I was proved wrong by the sheer power of the wind that whipped across my face.
Downtown Denver, covered in quiet little cobblestones and silent, sturdy buildings, was known for its famous chili fries and smoky scent. And I, a 21-year old that was recently off my meds and definitely not working, was busy wandering the streets with rain pattering along the road.
Grass lawns weren't common in Colorado. Most people's backyards consisted of rocks and cacti, so nobody really took too much care of their lawn. However, the few people that were lucky enough to get grass lawns treasured them like a brand-new car or fancy watch. Denver hardly held trees in the more suburban areas, like where I was. Rather than there be greenery and shrubs that colored the landscape, there were countless dried old sticks that littered the earth and spiky plants. Not exactly prime land, there. But I liked it. Some parts of a person, much like Colorado, are rougher than other pieces.
The sidewalk beneath my feet seemed to crack and crumble under my footfalls, just before the water falling from above ascended into higher levels of rain. The noise of the liquid splashing around me grew louder with every step. It made me uncomfortable.
Soon, I was simply standing in a downpour. Yes; it truly was a downpour, before and after I met them.
The person stood at the edge of the sidewalk, the rain dripping down their sides and sliding down long silky hair without a care in the world. In my eyes, which were misty from raindrops on my glasses, black shone in the bare light still left in day--I supposed that the midnight on their body was their hair, the hair that was sopping wet. But they had that resentful, wistful stare on their face. Like they didn't exist, but instead they were a lifeless husk. Hollow.
I wanted to laugh at that at first, before I realized that I was the same way.
My first attempt to get past Downpour went without success. "Hey" echoed behind my shaky steps; I knew I was walking past someone who wasn't easily ignored. It instilled a sense of importance in their figure, I supposed.
I flinched before daring a glance behind me. Another "Hey". I fought to keep my gaze on them. And sure enough, that gaze was upon their eyes: once of regretful sadness. But at the same time, strength was reflected back in their features. Dominance, almost.
I shivered.
"Yes?" I managed.
Downpour leaned their body against the wall, chancing a grin before deciding not to give one. "Sorry to bother you. But you look like me, is all."
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "Look like you?"
A frown creased across their expression. "Not like you bear a passing resemblance to my figure or anything. It's just you hold that one face that I'm always used to--like one of quiet forbearance. I like that."
They finished, coughing into their hand and allowing a bit of pink to show in their cheeks. "Sorry. Again. I'm just being stupid."
Water had soaked their body so much that whenever they lifted themself off the wall, it was like a bucket was being dumped on the sidewalk. I blinked as I watched them meander away, onyx hair seeming to sparkle without sunlight.
I swallowed harshly, letting the remaining air in my lungs evaporate in a wild gasp as I reached for them.
"Um--!" I just barely gripped the sleeve of their shirt, silky material running in-between my desperate fingers. They didn't tremble nor flinch, nor breathe when I did so. But they did sigh lightly. Twirling the black on their head with their finger, they faced me with this polite little smile that took me off guard.
"I knew you'd turn around. Intrigued, are you?" Downpour gazed at me intently, but with an air of warmth.
My hand slid from their shirt. "I… I don't know why I… did that." I flushed a bit.
But they just grinned at me, taking the hand that I had dropped. Caressing it gently between smooth hands that were uncannily chilled, Downpour stood before me like a foreboding warrior, a buoy in the ocean, a raft afloat at sea. A savior. A silent yet sturdy being whose influence grew with every stroke of my hand.
"You're young, younger than me. But yet, I can tell that you're not someone random. Isn't that right, Liam?"
I flinched. "How did you--" Fingers were pressed to my lips to hush my protests.
"Intuition. And I can tell, too, that you have quite a story to tell. So, Liam, can you tell me what has occurred? Can you bear it--the weight of your words and the responsibility that creases your brow so firmly?"
I didn't look up. No; I knew that if I did, something else more insane just might happen. When water soaked my hair like Downpour's and my eyes grew wet with tears, that was when I finally stared up at them.
"My sister Kathryn killed herself when I was 13."
I said no more.
~~~
~Ramona~
Something cool brushed against my forehead, a comfort to the heat that I was already enveloped in. I nuzzled against the feeling, trying to get cold in at least the top of my head. But whatever was chilled and touching me seemed to be put aback when I desired it; it appeared to be hesitant in its oncoming movements.
As my eyes opened slightly and the coolness returned to my skin, I blinked hazily a few times before realizing that I was very much awake.
I hoped that Liam didn't get the shit scared out of him when I leaped out of my spot on the couch and nearly elbowed him in the nose.
He scratched the side of his head. "Hello, sleeping beauty. Whaddya doin' laying on the couch like that?"
He was sitting on one of the barstools from his kitchen. Like Lisa? But that barstool was perched just behind where I was sleeping on the couch, just near my head. What could he possibly want by creeping up on me like that? And prodding at my face, too…
The windows were open in the living room and kitchen, the slightest bit of sunlight streaming through into the house. The air smelled of must and water--it must have rained a bit while I was asleep. Otherwise, the sky was overcast and pure white, blinding to my eyes. The sun reflected off of Liam's golden hair which rendered it quite possibly even more beautiful and colorful than before.
Liam perked up when I met his eyes. "Looks like you don't know either," he said.
I blushed a little at that, brushing something imaginary off my pants and strolling past him without a word. He didn't move nor react when I did, and I gave an involuntary internal sigh of relief. I didn't know if I could handle how unpredictable and strange Liam was becoming by the day. Either that, or I was simply overreacting, which seemed much more feesible.
Liam spoke just as I reached the stairwell, and his words gave me a jolt in my bones.
"Have you decided yet?"
I paused for a moment, finding the floorboards much more interesting than whatever was going on behind me. But, no. How was I supposed to avoid this one?
I turned around, slowly facing him with a gaze I hoped didn't seem like a leer. But as soon as I caught sight of his facial expression my eyes slammed into the ground once more. I was terrified of that face, of the features that had molded into something so like the night with the willow tree.
I wanted to say, No. I don't have a clue. This person you desire for me to meet, who are they? How do you know them?
Do they know you more than I know you…?
I knew the answers. I just didn't want to hear them.
I didn't reply. He stared at me. The silence was so heavy that I felt my very soul being weighed down by it. But he didn't say anything; he simply looked. Observing me, inspecting me and glaring at my life choices. Please don't speak. I can't bear any more of this pressure.
He gave a whisper of a thought into the air, one that rippled dangerously through my flesh and caused even the wind outside to halt. But his voice was so soft at that moment it made me want to wince.
"I think you've made your choice, then."
Yes. I have. Take me to them.
~~~
~Ramona~
This, I supposed, was Downpour.
They sat across from me--no, it was more like they were poised elegantly--with their legs folded together and a quiet smile on their face. Dark, silent waves fell onto the couch around them and slid off the cushion. A perfectly smooth face with no blemishes. Warm eyes colored a disconcerting shade of cerulean. They didn't flinch nor did they even so much as blink. Their gaze was simply locked on me and it made me more uncomfortable than I had been in my entire life.
Liam had ensconced himself in a chair before I could even blink, yanking it out of its spot at the dining table and immediately staring at the two of us with curious eyes. Like knowing something exciting is about to happen. Or, rather, eyes like a perked-up child...
I sighed, my face gaunt. How was I supposed to know this was to happen?
When Liam had gotten confirmation I wanted to talk to Downpour, he instantly flipped his phone out of his pocket and speed-dialed someone. When that person picked up after a few rings, his eyes lit up like he'd just seen something magical.
"Are you free tomorrow?" he asked.
The voice on the other line paused for a moment as if they were considering it. And, hesitating, they questioned, "What is it this time?"
I would've expected Liam to shrug awkwardly or shuffle around his words a bit. But instead, he just snorted into the receiver and said, "I take that as a yes."
The other person gave out a light chuckle, and before I knew it they had hung up.
And here we are: I had been dragged out of bed at 10 in the morning to have a little chat with someone who seemed so intimidating. And to be frank, I was horrified.
My eyes slid shut. The flutter of my heart was constant, beating so rapidly I was afraid it would simply jump out of my skin. This feeling... it's familiar to me. Reminds me of Markus, the person I haven't seen for so long...
'Some part of me resents you for showing up now, but I suppose that some amount of Fear can be healthy.'
Really, now? Are you getting used to my presence or something?
'Never, no. That will not be a reality. But please, continue; perhaps if I feel enough of you then I'll become immune.'
An imaginary chuckle echoed through thin air. That's a nice sentiment, although, I think we both know that that will never occur. Don't you enjoy the thrill of it, though? Feeling your body tremble and have sweat drip down the side of your head...
'I don't find how that could be even slightly enjoyable.'
Oh, trust me, if you were me, then you would find it to be the best thing ever to occur in your life. Ever. But, I suppose, that couldn't happen, considering you're so weak...
'Hush.'
Downpour's curious eyes flickered over to mine for a brief moment, silent yet sturdy in their wake.
"So, Ramona, was it? Your name?" Downpour's voice was nothing short of a lovely soprano, and one that made me shiver, at that.
I struggled to form a nod. Downpour seemed to take that as a reply.
"Well, that's a very pretty name. Did you know that?" Downpour cocked their head lightly to the side, smiling that flawless smile of theirs.
I didn't respond for a second, stunned. Not even the saint Liam had said something like that to me before. And the man was literally, mentally and physically, like a Greek god. What the hell?
Out of the corner of my eye, I could've sworn I saw Liam nodding with this stout, unimpressive look on his face. I almost wanted to laugh.
I shuffled around uncomfortably on the couch. "Thank you," was all I managed.
Their smile seemed to grow even wider at my reaction. "You're welcome. And during our little chat here, you can call me Miha. That's my real name."
It's not Downpour?
Miha must've seen the confused expression on my face, because they immediately spoke again. "It means 'downpour' in Sanskrit. It's simply a little nickname of mine." They cleared their throat once before talking again, "Do you have anything you'd like me to call you, dear Ramona?"
Seems like you have to choose. And what will you choose, Ramona Syleman? Are you still that girl on the windowsill, too afraid to oppose? Or are you the woman who held her sister's hand in that underground bar? TELL ME. TELL THEM. TELL THE WORLD WHO YOU CHOOSE TO BE.
I thought that this moment in time would come later. But, no. Life sometimes throws you unexpected loops, and you're expected to jump through them.
And I did.
Glancing up at Miha, my features hardened and my eyes warm, I replied:
"Lynn. Call me Lynn, please. It's my real name, too."
Downpour smiled.