6 // 365

                Sven’s jaw clenched as the plane began to rock against the wind; he hated flights. He glanced around the cabin and was surprised that no one had taken any notice of the turbulence. They’re all the same; they all have the same beliefs: “it won’t be me, I can’t die,” he thought bitterly. He hated the arrogance of anyone who wasn’t immortal and he found it ironic that his immortality was the only way he had learned not to take day-to-day life for granted. He reigned in his emotions; after all, the plane wasn’t headed for disaster yet. 

Sven struggled to refocus his attention on the tall, thin blonde who was sleeping serenely next to him.  He forced himself to picture his future with Jacie in an attempt to relieve his ever-growing fear. If he was lucky, he’d have ten years of a moderately normal and happy marriage before she started noticing the way his hair didn’t turn gray or the way the small wrinkles that would appear beside her eyes didn’t show on him. After the good years, there would be one year of bad. Sven would spend his time thinking of ways to make Jacie hate him, so that it was easier for her to move on when he abandoned her. At first, this life was hard for him but he had grown accustomed to it with time. 

                The plane swayed again and Sven felt his stomach drop when the seat belt light flickered on. He hurriedly shook Jacie awake and helped her buckle herself into the seat. Jacie laced her fingers through Sven’s and he smiled at her in a false form of reassurance. After years of outliving of others, Sven knew the look of dread that was etched onto the flight attendants faces. Sven wasn’t worried about the impending crash for himself, but he could almost taste the fear that was dripping from Jacie. Her face had gone white by the time the captain’s voice broke the eerie silence to issue the crash landing warning.  

                Sven had been beside many people that he loved as they succumbed to an illness; but he always found sudden death the worse. He couldn’t help but wonder if Jacie was thinking of him in her final moments, or if her last thoughts had taken her back to her childhood with her family; or maybe to her first high school love. Sven tried not to look at his wife; for some reason the last time he saw her would be the only time he would remember and he refused to forever be scarred with the look frozen on Jacie’s face as she died. 

                “I’ll hold your hand the entire time,” he whispered. Jacie didn’t look up at him and he was grateful; instead, she squeezed her fingers around his in acknowledgement. It was the very least he could do; he wasn’t going to die with her and she could wait forever by heavens gates, he would never appear. By now, Sven was used to being the sole survivor and devastation plagued him.  

                The plane slammed into the rocky hillside and left a long, straight scar on the land. Sven had held Jacie’s hand as her life was crushed from her and he had looked away just as the light left her eyes. He crawled from the wreckage and took in the scene; he sat down next to the rubbish and listened intently for muffled screams. There weren’t any, and if he had really asked himself he knew he would have had to admit that there would be none. Sven didn’t cry over Jacie as he disappeared into the forest. Even with a life of immortality there wasn’t time for grief; after all, he’d be pronounced dead within the next 48 hours. He had to build an entire new life.

5 // 365

Vera hated to be home; even with Connor so close she knew that she was there alone. The only noise that would make its way from Connor’s room and melt down the hallway to find Vera’s ears was the soft beep of Connor’s heart monitor followed by the breathy swish of his respirator. For seven years, Vera had watched the man she loved fade away. She was sure that his body was hollow now and that his soul had left her long ago. It had been a week since the last time she had found herself sitting in the dark purple chair by his bed side with her hands folded in desperate prayers and she was almost ashamed. People expected her to be there with him, just as frozen in time and in this house as her husband was. Things were different in the beginning; when Connor could still talk to her and squeeze her hand in reassurance. Vera had spent countless hours sitting in the chair then. She was there as Connor spent the last of his time reassuring her that he was going to get better and she was there when his soothing promises to her turned into pleas for death to God. His suffering had seemed endless, but even his cries of pain were comforting to her because it meant that his heart was still beating. Eventually, Connor closed his eyes and never opened them again. Vera refused to give up though. She stayed perched in the chair for two years, rarely moving; If Connor was going to open his eyes, the first person to see his slate gray irises would be his wife. Vera had only now come to terms with the fact that it was her own selfishness that had kept Conner’s comatose body in her home when she should have long ago given him peace. Vera had spent the last seven days skimming old photo albums and forcing buried memories of happiness to resurface while the sound of Connor’s laugh in home movies played in the background. She was well aware that saying goodbye would break her in two, but she couldn’t hold onto an empty casing of who Connor used to be. Tears slipped from her hazel eyes as her fingers glided over the pages and she lost herself in the past.

A shadow of someone who was once a man watched Vera from beside her on the couch. As she touched each photo, his own recollection of the event would spring forth and his heart would shatter when the tears brimmed at her eyes. Connor’s soul had been detached for over two years with the inability to leave his body that had yet to die. At first, the resentment towards Vera’s helplessness to let him go that filled him was overwhelming, and he spent days following her through the house begging for her to turn the machines off. The frustration of not being heard was causing hatred to grow within him, but the more he heard Vera’s prayers for him the more he began to love her again. His re-found love for her made his urges to leave her dwindle slowly away and he found joy in being able to stand beside her in even silently.  He would sit with his wife as she drank coffee in the mornings and as she read herself to sleep at night, sometimes in the chair next to Connor’s bed. He had memorized things about her that he had never noticed before: the way she closed her eyes when she heard her favorite song begin or the way she could sit for hours while starring at the rain outside. He loved to watch his wife as she ran her bath water and lit lavender candles. She would undress in front of the mirror, fretting over her aging body, and then she would slip beneath white bubbles. He knew it was an attempt for relaxation but she always ended up crying. Connor had learned to spend his days by watching Vera live, but he had never given thought to loneliness that she must have felt. 

Vera closed the album abruptly and stood. Connor felt the change in her and panic rushed him. He followed her down the hall and towards his bedroom.  He couldn’t let her say goodbye yet. 

“Vera, stop!” his voice was cracking.  Vera paused in his doorway and Connor rushed passed her; positioning himself protectively between her and his body. 

“Don’t do this. It can be like this. I’m alright living this way, Vera. I love you and I know that you love me. Don’t say goodbye. Please…” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he had to try. She walked through him and hesitated by his bedside. She bent down and whispered, “I love you, Connor. I have to do this though; I have to move on now.” 

“I can’t move on, Vera. I’m not ready to die.” 

Vera kissed Connor and pressed her forehead into his as she said goodbye. She reached down and picked up the power strip that had kept Connor in her life for so long now. She curled her fingers around it and pulled it into the bed with her as she slipped beneath the blankets beside her husband. Her finger hovered above the button and Connor filled with dread. 

“Vera, Vera! Don’t do this. I can’t be without you—…” Darkness surrounded him as he heard Vera begin to sob.

3 // 365

 So, before you think I cheated and skipped a day, I didn't. I really did write this yesterday. I just had a really rough time and didn't get a chance to post. I'll have another one up later this evening. Thank you, ladies and gents! <3 Enjoy.

From the garden window of Nora's ballet studio she could see autumn beginning to take over the deciduous forest. The eloquent green leaves had begun to transform into vivid reds and golds. Nora aimed for perfection as she spun pirouettes, but the colors had become such a distraction. The colors blurred as she turned in tight circles until they became a watercolored mix in her mind. She came to a stumbling halt and tried to catch her breath; her eyes never leaving the revolutionizing leaves.

"Nora!" The voice of her instructor broke into her thoughts. "What are doing? Rehearsal isn't over. I guess we're going to have to begin from the top, ladies." The entire class groaned behind Nora. The music began to play again, and Nora took first position. Just as the queue for the first motion sounded, Nora broke from the group and darted outside.

"Nora! Nora! Where are you going?!" Her instructor called after her, but her question fell on the deaf ears. As she ran, Nora began to question herself. When had dance become so mundane? She could vividly remember a time when the gracefulness of the art had spoken directly to her soul and caused her to body to respond in fluid movements. Her pink ballet slippers pounded against the ground as she sprinted towards the glittering forest.

Nora burst through the tree line and instantly felt the magic of the forest consume her. She slowed to a walk and continued her journey deeper into the woodland grazing her fingers across the bark of the tree trunks as she went. After a while, Nora felt at home in the woods. She settled down on the grass and began listening to the sounds of the world around her. Somewhere in the stance was a stream of rushing water and closer to her was a woodpecker creating a tempo against the outer husk of a tree. Gradually the rhythm began to move her body and she began to dance.

                                                                

Nora started slowly, keeping pace with the sounds around her, but eventually the sound of her own heart beat became her music and she began to spin.  Her circles got tighter and faster until she was creating a swirling vortex in the dirt that was swallowing her from the ground up. She spun so quickly that it felt to her as if the earth had stopped moving. Finally, Nora fell to the ground and drifted to sleep.

When she awoke, the air was brisk and the leaves had all fallen from the trees. Nora sat up, startled and confused as she took in her surroundings. There was no color, no life and briefly Nora found herself pondering whether or not this was death. Nora stretched her legs and then arched her stiff back before standing. She tried to retrace her steps through the forest to find her way back home, but the more she walked the more lost she became.

After what seemed liked hours of trekking through the thick, dead trees Nora fell to the ground and began to cry. She hugged her knees to her chest and it was then that she realized that her once pale, rose colored slippers had been replaced with golden ones. Her fingers gingerly traced over the fabric. Instantaneously, memories of the glistening harvest forest flooded her. She watched in her mind as the gold, red, and orange left tumbled from the trees and rained down her as she leaped and twisted beneath the trees.

Suddenly, the urge to dance again overwhelmed her. She started slowly, but when she gave into the quick sound of cracking winter limbs and the brisk wind her body began to contort into sharp angles; all around her tufts of green cracked through the gray ground. Emerald green buds appeared on the trees and then blossomed into flowers. Nora danced until her body collapsed from exhaustion. She lay on the warming ground and realized that she had found love in her movements again. She reached down and touched the golden slippers one more time and they comforted her as she drifted to sleep. Nora never noticed the way the trees seemed to smile down at her performance or how the forest creatures gathered to watch as Nora welcomed a new season into life.

2 // 365

Josephine sat poised in the castle's tower while the warm spring breeze caused stray strands of hair to dance around her face. The princess watched with envy has the blue jays fluttered in the wind. There were times that Josephine found herself wishing that she would sprout wings; perhaps then she could leap from this balcony and fly away from this place she had grown to hate. Hate, she shuddered at the word that skimmed across her mind at the thought of Marcus. When did I learn to hate? she asked herself, but the feeling of loathing was overwhelming and undeniable at the thought of being trapped in this tower until her wedding day, and possibly long after that day. 

"He isn't a bad man," Josephine muttered to the blue jay that had landed a few feet away from her on the balcony's stone rail. The little bird cocked its head at her in what Josephine took as disbelief. 

"Oh, come now. He really isn't. Papa said he'd take good care of me, and," she paused looking around her confinements. "And, that he'd protect me...I guess in his mind this is a way of prote--." Josephine was cut short as the bird spread its wings and leapt from the balcony. She watched as the bird soared over the courtyard. "I guess even a bird doesn't believe the things I try to convince myself to believe."

Josephine remained on the balcony as the sun began to fall past hills in the distance. As night fell, Josephine lit a candle, fearful of the darkness. She pulled the fur blankets from her bed and dragged them out the double doors to make a pallet on the hard stone floor of the terrace. As she lay on her back, green eyes stared up at the dark sky in admiration of the stars. Her mouth gaped open as one by one the stars began to plummet towards earth. The stars glowed brighter and brighter as they descended upon Josephine. Skepticism and amazement filled her and she closed her eyes and wished a million times over: "I wish for wings! Give me wings!" She chanted the words until they felt overused on her lips and, then, she continued until tears were rolling down her flushed cheeks. Eventually the princess drifted to sleep beneath the shower of burning stars. 

"Princess," the voice of the chambermaid broke into Josephine's subconscious and stirred her awake. "Prince Marcus sent me with breakfast for you." 

"Thank you, Martha." Josephine spoke softly, sleep still weighed heavily on her brain. The memory of the falling heavens jolted her awake quickly though. "Martha," she asked, "I need to ask you something." 

"What is it, Princess?"

"Last night, did you happen to see the stars?" 

"Oh, yes! It was a perfectly clear night; great for stargazing. Sometimes, some of the other maids and I will take dinner outside and sit beneath the stars. Last night was one of those times--" Martha realized she was rambling and quickly bit off her words. Being the servant of Prince Marcus had made her, and the other workers, timid. Josephine recognized Martha's quiet retreat and comforted her.

"That sounds rather lovely, Martha dear. One day, perhaps I can join you?" The very thought of the Princess sitting on a thin blanket in the grass was enough to trigger a snicker from Martha who quickly covered her mouth. 

"Forgive me, Princess. I didn't mean to laugh. I think it would be lovely if you were ever permitted to join us." 

"Me too, Martha, me too. I have one more question for you, if you have the time?" Josephine knew before she asked that Martha wouldn't leave until she was dismissed, but kindness came so naturally to her.

"Of course, Princess."

"Did you happen to notice the stars...well, were they falling?"

"Falling?"

"Yes, falling, right out of the sky."

Martha chuckled, again, "Falling stars? No, Princess. You must have had one terrifying dream. Are you feeling well?"

"Yes, Martha," Josephine sighed, "I'm feeling just fine. I just had such a vivid dream. But, it wasn’t terrifying at all. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Do you mind if I have some time to myself, Martha? I'd really love to think. Thank you for bringing up breakfast." Martha bowed and walked out the door, locking it from the outside as she left.

Josephine tried all day to forget what she had seen in the sky the night before. If only she could dismiss it as a dream and get back to her mundane days in the tall tower, but it was eating away her thoughts. The day passed without a single visit from Marcus, but that was nothing new and Josephine had grown accustomed to it. To him she was nothing more than a beautiful trophy. It was doubtful that she would ever leave the tower. 

As night fell, Josephine found herself staring at the skies. The stars were still and there were no streaks of white fire across the black horizon. Dismayed, Josephine shut the balcony doors and crawled into her bed, but she couldn't find sleep and she tossed restlessly as the night drifted by her. When the moon was highest in the sky, a sharp gust of wind against the double doors blew them open and Josephine sat up in bed, gasping. She pulled the blanket up around her and sat silently listening to the darkness. A soft coo came from the balcony and Josephine felt her body tense. 

"Who's there?" she called out, but was only answered by the same soft coo. She gathered her courage and shifted to the edge of the bed. Her toes came in contact with the cold stone floor and she tiptoed closer the now open doors. 

"Hello?" she called again. A sleek, scaly head peeked around the corner and Josephine stumbled backwards and fell. She scrambled for the door on the other side of the room and tried to call out, but her voice faltered. She pressed herself against the door and clinched her eyes shut waiting for the dragon to attack her. Her thoughts were racing as the seconds passed. 

Maybe he's gone? she thought after what seemed like hours. Josephine took a deep breath and turned to face the balcony. She stared at the dragon; his sleek skin gleamed under the luminescence of the moon. She pressed her back into the door, but didn't turn away. The dragon was solid white and had large silver translucent wings. Josephine finally let her breath free and took an unsteady step in the dragon’s direction. The animal cocked his head at her and stepped towards the princess. They two continue to walk closer to each other timidly until finally the creature was in arms distance of the girl. Josephine gingerly reached out her hand, palm down and waited for the dragon to close the distance. He bowed his head and pushed up against her hand. 

"Hi there," Josephine said, as she grew more comfortable with the large animal who had barely fit through the door way. Josephine let her hands run down the spine of the animal as she admired his seemingly glowing white skin. Suddenly, the dragon turned and headed back towards the balcony doors. The movement startled Josephine and she stumbled backwards. As the dragon stepped through the threshold, he expanded his large wings and poised himself for flight. 

"Please don't go!" Josephine called out to the beast and he turned to look at her, tilting his head. Josephine rushed to his side. 

"Take me with you?" She could hear the desperation in her own voice, but she didn't care. The dragon dipped his head, brushed the side of the princess face and then bowed. Josephine's heart raced as she climbed onto his back. 

"This is absolutely crazy," she said aloud. She felt every muscle in the animals back as his wings opened and he leaped from the balcony. Josephine smiled as the wind pushed through her hair. As the pair peaked in the sky they were joined by what seemed like hundreds of other fire-white dragons. Josephine streaked across the sky in a blur of white and she couldn't help but wonder what girl was making a wish on her and her dragon as they darted over the kingdom that she was escaping.