This Does Not Spark Joy

day 1, morning; one-shot

Located to one side of the temple is a plot of land that features an array of overgrown potted plants, small sculptures and other markers all spread out and placed in different areas. There are also some personal possessions placed around these objects. While clearly a memorial of some kind, there are no graves present here and no details that could reveal who each marker is for. Unlike the rest of the upper level of the island, which has become overrun by devil’s ivy, the memorial garden has remarkably remained unaffected.
Post Reply
User avatar
Zetsu
Posts: 615
Joined: Thu Aug 16, 2018 6:58 am

This Does Not Spark Joy

#1

Post by Zetsu »

Crying was good. That's a belief Megan had always had, and she'd never been bothered by how self-serving it was. She were the kind of person who needed her tears, and she'd always known that, and in the end, she was just grateful that they came so easily nowadays. Now, more than ever, she needed her tears.

Now, more than ever, that her eyes are dry.

((G074 BEGIN))

Megan had been here before. That's the first thought that crossed her mind. She had been here before, she had been like this before; she had never thought that she would end up back here, but here she is, and as the fog creeps into her brain and swallows it, she feel that she should be afraid. Somewhere through it all, she is: not this again, never this again.

Slow breaths, now. Steady breaths. Name five things around Megan's body. The grass beneath her feet, the blue sky, the sun, the wooden behemoth looming in front of her, the bust of a man whose features she can’t make out.

Four things Megan is feeling right now. Her clothes are damp with dew where she was touching the ground, her fingernails are digging into her palms, she's not sure how hot she's feeling, and she needs another one. She thinks about creating another one, but she doesn’t. Lucky that the years between then and now had taught her something.

Three things Megan can hear. Her feet scraping the ground as she walks. She strains her ears for songbirds and gets nothing. She hears her heart beating, and beating, and beating. Are her ears ringing? Does that count? But are they actually ringing? This was stupid to get worked up over. The whole point of this thing is to calm you down, Megan. Why is your heart racing. This is stupid.

She's supposed to count all the way down to the end, Megan knew. She weren’t supposed to give in so easily, even if it all felt useless. That was her brain playing a trick on her, or it would be if the trick wasn’t actually the truth.

Steady breaths, but that doesn’t change a thing. She's still here. She's really, really still here.

Megan needed to cry. So she ran.

((Continued in I'm a Princess, Cut From Marble, Smoother Than a Storm))
Post Reply

Return to “The Memorial Garden”