literature

A String Of Pearls (FFD Compilation)

Deviation Actions

Published: Jun 24, 2017

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Literature Text

(00:01)

Death stood in the shadows cast by a weeping willow, watching the girl through the half-open window. She sat at the kitchen table, humming as she poured two cups of tea. Sighing, he entered through the crack, surveying the quaint kitchen thriving in tones of soft yellow.

"Aisha," he greeted, taking a seat across from her. She smiled, fiddling with the hem of the yellow tablecloth bordered with tiny blue blossoms.

"Hello, Death," she chirped, sliding one of the cups over to him with her dainty fingers. "Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?"

She glanced outside, the setting sun catching the threads of gold embedded at the bottom of her light ocean eyes. A soft breeze ruffled the frilly curtains, carrying the sweet scent of rose and lavender.

He shrugged, picking up the teacup. It looked ridiculous in his skeletal hands. The vibrant colour clashed with his sickly pale fingers wrapped around the handle, as if a marble statue was clinging to a small flower. He took a sip, noting she had remembered his preference for two sugars and no milk.

"I'm not here to talk about the weather."

She looked at him, a mischievous glint reflecting in her eyes.

"Oh? Well, then," her lips dipped into a bit of a smirk, "please do enlighten me on why you've showed up on my doorstep again?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling back the dark hood covering his face. She knew full well that he'd be stopping by, otherwise she wouldn't have greeted him with tea.

"You know, I can't always drop by like this. I'm a busy man, I don't always have time to deal with accident magnets like you."

She shrugged, the movement almost hidden by the oversized sweater she had on. "It's not my fault, you know. These things just happen."

Death sighed again, dropping his head into his free hand. "This is the second time this week, Aisha. That makes a total of five encounters so far. If you keep on going like this, your lives will run out."

She giggled, looking up at the ceiling. "It's just so comical. Thanks to a screw up in your sector, I, who was supposed to be reincarnated as a cat, ended up in a human body but still retained my nine lives. I mean, how does such a thing even happen? I'd have liked to be a cat," her eyes narrowed into a glare, "life as a human is exhausting."

Death bit back a smile, settling for a shake of his head. He had to admit, it was rather absurd. The head of reincarnation was still out for whoever is responsible's blood. As one of the relatively newer agents of the reapers, he had been assigned as her personal death angel seeing as all the higher ups were too busy with wars and other crises spreading around the world.

"You're barely 20! How can life already be wearing you down?"

She shrugged again, nothing more than a wave of grey wool rising then receding. "Life is a tiresome thing," she muttered. A bird outside caught her attention, trilling out a short song. She stared mesmerised, in his mind's eye Death could easily see her ears flicking to the sound, tail playfully bouncing from side to side.

"So, what happened this time?" His question lured her attention back to the kitchen, distractedly drawing a simple "jelly beans" from her mouth.

He stared at her.

"What?" she asked, almost offended, shifting her full attention back to his hooded form. He was a handsome young man who looked to be in his early twenties. She couldn't help but admire his moss green eyes.

"How even?"

She bit her lip, hesitantly drawing in a breath. After a few seconds of silent contemplation she spoke.

"I choked on some jelly beans. Threw the whole lot away once I regained consciousness," she declared decisively, throwing a quick scowl at the dustbin.

Death couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, feeling it well up from his stomach.

"Well it's not really funny, now is it? If things were different I could've died."

Reigning himself in, he nodded, trying to smother the chuckles still bubbling up his throat.

"I'm sorry, it's just that after the broom incident I didn't think anything stranger could befall you."

"Well, obviously you were wrong," she sniffed, turning away from him. Her hand flitted up to her hair, absentmindedly twirling a long chocolate curl between her fingers.

He smiled at this human he'd grown so fond of, taking another sip of his tea.

"Yes," he echoed, "obviously I was."

He stayed for a few hours after that. They indulged in each other's presence, neither one wishing for the other to leave, but by the end of the day they both knew it wouldn't be long before their paths crossed again. A strange love had blossomed between these two unlikely people. Everyone else had noticed too, but not even the reapers could deny them such a rare bond. It wasn't unheard of for a reaper to bind themself to another soul and have them incarnated as a reaper's assistant after death…

(869)
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(14:30)

I sat silently with my feet buried in the sand, cold water spreading out around my ankles. Dusk was just about ready to fall, the sky diluting into a deeper shade of blue. I could see the far off edges turning midnight.

A chilly breeze disturbed the water receding at my feet and I let out a shiver, tightening my hold on the blanket around my shoulders. I couldn't go home yet. I had to wait until the first pinprick of white light shone through the deep layers of the sky.

The distant crash of the ocean called my gaze back down. I was mesmerised by the waves, eyes flicking back and forth as they danced across the surface of the beach. They put a strange spell over me, a subtle siren call taunting me closer. Whispering to me that the icy water would embrace me whole. That the salt would burn away all my sorrows until I was raw and free again. I could feel a sting building up in my throat.

Is that what he felt that night?

I shook my head, trying to get rid of the tears lining my lashes. This… this was why I came here… to drown myself in the memories that haunted me. To confront the ghost that had latched onto my heart.

To confront him.

It's time. Lifting my head, I saw the first star proudly shining through the darkening heavens. I stood, eyes fixed on that one spark of light.

"Hello, old friend," I whispered, but the star remained silent.

(270)

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(16:35)

Winter bleeds through my locked window.

(6)

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(16:39)

Spring softly blooms to life again.

(6)

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(16:41)

Summer sunshine strokes my sleepy eyes.

(6)

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(16:42)

Autumn colours burst from the trees.

(6)

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(18:45)

The forest was eerily quiet today. Laika trudged through the deep undergrowth, amber eyes trained on the trees around her. Even they were silent, not the barest of a whisper catching Laika's sensitive hearing.

Strange, she thought to herself, tying up her abundance of red curls after they snagged on a thorn bush. It was never this solemn in these parts. Even the crickets were hushed.

The darkness was like a veil, snuffing out all sound. It bothered Laika. She missed the forest song. Its absence made her feel disconnected somehow. The forest had been her home since she was a pup. Eighteen years of living in the cabin with her mother and brother and this was the first time that such a hush hung over her head.

She inhaled, keeping the scented air trapped in her lungs as she dissected its scents, but she couldn't find as much as a trace of whatever could be causing this. She shook her head. She didn't like this at all.

She came to clearing, her slender form blending in with the rest of the forest as the moonlight found her. The pale light energised her. She could feel her senses sharpening. Far off she heard a distant crack.

Alertness strung through Laika and she steadily started to move closer to the sound. A pause. Then the howling began. Laika immediately threw herself into a sprint, her boots flying over the forest floor. She jumped, hands reaching out before her, legs dangling in the air for a millisecond and then she landed. Four paws met the earth and she picked up speed. The wolf pounded the earth, moving as fast and silently as only they could manage.

They. The forest's children. Lycans.

She found her pack, her sleek russet body blending in with the rest of the large wolves.

Intruder. That one word ran through all their minds, connecting them.

Laika ran, ready to pounce on her alpha's command.

But that command never came.

The sharp scent of blood struck her nose before her eyes could find its source. A few metres from her lay a wolf, throat torn out. Dead. Laika's lungs were on fire. She gasped for breath, disbelief forming a hazy cloud over her revolted mind.

It couldn't be.

But it was. Her alpha lay dead and a large creature with sharp claws and ember eyes stood next to him, chewing.

They didn't even need an order. As one the pack pounced.

(422)

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(21:38)

I once knew a girl who could make any plant grow. Even in the harshest of months her garden would thrive in pastel and vibrant coloured flowers. I always believed she had a bit of magic weaved into her blood cells. She was my best friend.

I could never quite find the best way to describe her eyes - they were ethereal. It was as if someone had taken blue bells and sewed parts of them together with bellflowers. She was beautiful. It was a delicate kind of beautiful, I was always scared she'd wither at my touch.

I thought she was evergreen.

Her hands were always stained with lavender and she had this sunflower smile… it would always light up the room.

I could sit for ages and stare at her nimble fingers at work. She always knew the best spot for planting. She taught me what she could, but most of what she knew came naturally to her. She had flowers blooming in her head, I would always tease.

I miss her terribly. I would never have thought that the girl with daisies twined around her wrists could bleed so much...

I know it may sound odd, but I half expected her blood to be iridescent. It wasn't.

It was a Monday morning when I found her on the bathroom floor. She hadn't been answering her phone, and that's fine I had thought at first… but something was off. The past few months I could see storms in her eyes. Her smile had been shaky for a while and I asked her about it, but she merely smiled brighter and said I worry too much.

I should've worried more.

I found her cradling a whole bunch of different coloured roses. Her delicate wrists were smeared with a claret colour I'll never forget.

I've been trying my best to keep her garden alive but more and more of her treasures keep dying every day. Their sunshine is gone, I don't really know what I expected. So here I am, slowly fading away every day with her favourite pair of irises.

(361)

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