Snippets and Stories: (R) Nothing Unusual

It's nothing unusual.

A late night turned morning, the annoying fatigue and exhaustion, and the overwhelming urge of an itch of frustration that can't be scratched.

Sleep will not come easy tonight.

It never does when doubt prevails.

I wonder useless thoughts, think, question, and wonder some more.

But regardless of how high one piles them, the thoughts of a fool amount to nothing.

And that is what I am. A fool.

I welcome the comfort of lacking consciousness, for thoughts of the late hour evoke naught but the long baleful woes.

Memories of a friend who has better company to keep.

Of an underappreciated and enduring Mother who gave up so much for so little.

Of a bright little girl. Who should've been so much more.

Who they claim to be of a memorable smile, and to impart one in those whom she meets.

One who has grown but only bitter and jaded, yet harbors oh so childishly and foolishly, a meek candle of hope.

Neither strong enough to stoke the flames nor smother it.

Useless, indecisive, cowering, little thing.

A little girl now grown.

Who can do little more than cry.

For friends who were never her's.

And a Family she once had.

Blind to her blessings and fortunes.

Because she is, but a child.

And a fool.

The book closes with a soft, yet solid and firm thump of paper. And I lay the pen down.

It is exceedingly late and in the late hours the body protests too much for little. Odd that he hadn't yet spoken.

"Merely waiting, as any gent would. Done already?" His voice is silky with mock sophistication. Overly prim and snobbish.

A jeer at the values which I myself held dear.

"Neskyii." It's difficult not to sigh, and harder still not to bleed exasperation at his name. For a moment I'm at a loss for words. Not quite as unusual for one such as myself as others may be inclined to believe.

"I hope I didn't keep you long." Was the mild reply, copying his mock etiquette, and I make to stand. Only to find him mere inches away as I turned.

It's startling, unnerving, and I stumble.

Backing away, I could see those mirthful golden eyes as they regarded such wariness with glee.

It ever delighted this shade of mine to engage in such awful games, harmless though they may have been thus far. They are unpleasant at best and wholly onesided in their entertainment.

He relishes in his petty triumph a moment longer, his grin baring the slight peek of a sinister arrangement of teeth, before casually returning, "Not at all." A pause. "It's a good night to die."

Prickles sting at my back, tickling up the spine. "Is that so." It comes out as more of a statement.

He doesn't answer, staring flippantly at the bound journal resting atop the polished wooden surface of the desk.

He's curious. He hadn't read the most recent passage and I'd no mood to let him skim the pages.

"Then I welcome it. Quick and painless, if you can."

This catches his attention, as I knew it would.

Not often was I content to sit back and permit his transgressions without struggle or retort. Less so to beggar mercy of all things.

"I'm tired." Is the only explanation I would supply for his silent yet buzzing curiosity. Rest assured, it was a necessary reprieve.

Surprised, but quick to recover any shock, he grins, "The candle you would snuff?"

"To burn, but longer and brighter the next day."

His face falls and twists into an ugly snarl, jagged teeth bared.

"Let me rest where I can Neskyii, I'm not strong like you."

And that little compliment is enough to make him leave the room in a rasp of sand. To grant me the recuperation I so desired, and to permit myself the hurts, that they may take their due now and not when the heat burns fierce.

When I next open my eyes it will be to an equally dark world, but one where my dysfunctional eyes were of perfect clarity. Where the skies were simultaneously dusk with last light, and blue with midday languor.

And he would be waiting, flashing steel in hand.

To deliver me unto the hands of sleep with a mercy I'd not known he had.

No mockery, no games. A flash of steel and--

--I awoke with no sense of the passage of Time, only that it were Time to rise.

Yet it was not of Neskyii's doing that I awoke, but that for however long it was, was blissfully unaware in the throes of sleep. For once, sound.

Wordlessly I thank him, and he nods but once, and retreats deep into the recesses of mine mind.