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04-17-2015, 11:02 AM
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The rain still wasn’t letting up—in fact, I think it was just getting worse. The wind whistled through the pillars of the thing we were laying under and there was a huge C R A CK in the sky and for a second Mesec’s face was super-lit and your little eyes were dazzled in the blinding light of the lighting that struck somewhere nearby. I whipped my head around to search for it—I could hear something being struck, feel the buzz in the air, the residue of destruction—but the light was gone in a flash and my ears were ringing with the loudness of the thunder that continued to rumble, and I had to blink too many times to really pinpoint what had been it. It hadn’t been this structure—that’s all I knew. Ain’t like you were fazed about it. The worm was tiny but you were even tinier, so your bites took time to make any headway into the still-squirming, shiny worm carcass. Myam, myam, myam. Damn dude, you were chowing down. The lightning and the thunder and the violent rain be damned; you had discovered hunger and food and you were enjoying the hell out of it, bruh. You made that shit look delicious as fuck, so when Mesec spoke up about how he imagined my mouth full of worms, I kinda lost it and I rolled onto my back, braying with laughter. But then his comment set some things into motion, bringing flashes of images and sensations to my eyes--memories, memories that I had completely forgotten I had. But they were so locked up and so buried beneath so much bullshit that they came up dusty and grey and strange, yet familiar in the warmest, most painful way possible. “You remember,” I started, my words laced and warped with a giggling I couldn’t stop, “You remember that one time I rolled around in some mud after it rained an’ I kept rolling over you while you were trying to sleep?” I was so tiny back then, and I guess Mesec was too—but then again, he was still big to me then, the biggest, most perfect target for torment I had at my disposal. The memories kept pouring in, rushing to my eyes and my head and I was staggered at the life we used to live—a completely different world, kept pristine in these things. “Remember that time I watched the Executioners spar and I tried to spar your kneecaps?” Because in this memory world, the Foothills were still standing strong and proud, rolling green and indomitable and filled with so many badasses. “Remember when I rolled this giant-ass snow-ball down the hill at you while you were talkin’ to Ma?” My belly rolled with chuckles and you were just sitting there, myam myam myaming, watching these little blips of sunlight race through my mind. “Remember that one time I told this one girl who was mackin’ on you that you wet the bushes?” I could still remember his face, all scrunched up and locked and embarrassed and I rolled to my side, going breathless with the laughter that exploded out of me. God, how I missed him. How I missed everything. Way back before.. “I was an awful sister,” I hiccupped, the tears that were a little less painful, a little more innocent leaking out the corners of my eyes. You were just finishing up your worm (myam myam myam--) and you were turning back to me, feeling something sober up in my head, and you waddled your little curious ass back toward me, all sloshy and full with the food ‘n everything. I was still laying on my side so it was easy for you to climb back up onto my face and settled yourself behind my ear, where it was warm, where you were probably thinkin’ about falling asleep. I followed you with my eye as best as I could—the chuckling finally dying in my throat, because memories can only make life so sweet for so long before the darkness trickled back in place to fuck with you. “…guess I still kinda am,” I found myself saying, before the thought of it even crossed my mind. But I didn’t need to think about what I was telling him. I knew. @[Mesec]--Most of these memories are made up, so they're open to interpretation! HOWEVER the memory about Ros telling "some girl" that Mesec wet the bushes actually happened in this thread! |
