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[ i find my own closure ]
Oct. 4th, 2024 04:27 pmThe last thing Julie remembered was lying down to sleep.
It had been an ordinary day, all things considered. She'd spent the morning brushing Baron down in his stable, humming softly. The tiny veins in her fingers still showed dark through her skin from the day before, her fingertips tingling like lightning. In the afternoon, she'd held a portal and managed to throw a rock through it. The portal shattered like glass immediately after, but she saw the rock fly through the other side, fifty feet away and visible to her.
Her skin felt like it was sizzling all up and down her arms, but painlessly. She'd fallen back on her ass in the sand, stunned for a moment before being overtaken by triumphant, hysterical laughter.
Then she'd eaten an entire loaf of rosemary bread and ridden back into the city. Gone home. Laid down and fallen asleep quickly.
In the morning, there was nothing left except a necklace with a fang, left just below the pillow.
Julie woke up after what felt like the best sleep of her life. Surely the best sleep in at least the last five years. With a yawn and a stretch, she rubbed her temple and opened her eyes, surprised to find her clothing all gone, and—
In awestruck silence, her mouth dropped; she looked around slowly, as if she were afraid to break a spell she was under. The bed — the room — was not her own.
Yet.
Gently, she touched one foot to the floor, bracing for it to crumble. When it didn't, one foot became a step, then another and another as her smile dawned and then widened as she walked around the bedroom that had been and would be her own. Except it's now.
She ran to the windowed double doors and flung open the curtains, beaming out over the rolling hills of bright blossoms. Butterflies and hummingbirds in the air, flitting by in a rainbow of shades. The Singularity's massive base rising from the carpet of petals, so close she could run to it in moments. With a blink, she realized that the Singularity's din was absent from her mind, her brain no longer rumbling and rattling with noise that couldn't be untangled. Things were... quiet.
Her heart pounding, she threw open the doors to the beauty outside. The beauty she'd made.
Her Godland. Her Godland.
For once in her life, being alone was blissful. Meaningful. Fulfilling. So recently had she been weeping over the loss of this place — now she ran completely bare through the flowers and the grasses, sobbing out of happiness, her gasps peppered with exhilarated screams of uncontrollable joy. The leaves and blades and blooms felt like heaven against her skin. When she reached the sparser land right around the Singularity, she fell to her knees at the stone, her forehead pressed to the monolith as she cried.
When her lungs gave out and her chest finally squeezed the last of her emotion out, Julie slid down to sit next to the Singularity, resting against it. It felt more alive, somehow, its voice more realized in her head. Panting, she listened as she caught her breath. All she could hear, could feel, was happiness. Like sunshine on the stone, same as the first day they'd met. Sunshine that now seeped into her pores and filled her body like a vessel. Everything felt warm and real and right.
From the edge of the grass, yards from where she sat, there was a rustling. She watched as they emerged — Duke, Rex, Villain. All three still wearing their collars, they settled around her, a menagerie of fantastical little creatures. Unicorn, tyrannosaurus, golden dragon.
Julie feared her heart might burst from happiness, then caught her own silliness with a laugh. Her viper, pastel and shimmering, wound its way up her arm, flicked its tongue at her cheek. Duke laid his head on her bare leg, just above her knee, and closed his black eyes contentedly.
A question pressed itself softly into her mind, like a reassuring weight, a blanket.
"No," Julie answered aloud, stroking Villain's long, scaled neck with one finger. "They'll be along soon enough."
It had been an ordinary day, all things considered. She'd spent the morning brushing Baron down in his stable, humming softly. The tiny veins in her fingers still showed dark through her skin from the day before, her fingertips tingling like lightning. In the afternoon, she'd held a portal and managed to throw a rock through it. The portal shattered like glass immediately after, but she saw the rock fly through the other side, fifty feet away and visible to her.
Her skin felt like it was sizzling all up and down her arms, but painlessly. She'd fallen back on her ass in the sand, stunned for a moment before being overtaken by triumphant, hysterical laughter.
Then she'd eaten an entire loaf of rosemary bread and ridden back into the city. Gone home. Laid down and fallen asleep quickly.
In the morning, there was nothing left except a necklace with a fang, left just below the pillow.
Julie woke up after what felt like the best sleep of her life. Surely the best sleep in at least the last five years. With a yawn and a stretch, she rubbed her temple and opened her eyes, surprised to find her clothing all gone, and—
In awestruck silence, her mouth dropped; she looked around slowly, as if she were afraid to break a spell she was under. The bed — the room — was not her own.
Yet.
Gently, she touched one foot to the floor, bracing for it to crumble. When it didn't, one foot became a step, then another and another as her smile dawned and then widened as she walked around the bedroom that had been and would be her own. Except it's now.
She ran to the windowed double doors and flung open the curtains, beaming out over the rolling hills of bright blossoms. Butterflies and hummingbirds in the air, flitting by in a rainbow of shades. The Singularity's massive base rising from the carpet of petals, so close she could run to it in moments. With a blink, she realized that the Singularity's din was absent from her mind, her brain no longer rumbling and rattling with noise that couldn't be untangled. Things were... quiet.
Her heart pounding, she threw open the doors to the beauty outside. The beauty she'd made.
Her Godland. Her Godland.
For once in her life, being alone was blissful. Meaningful. Fulfilling. So recently had she been weeping over the loss of this place — now she ran completely bare through the flowers and the grasses, sobbing out of happiness, her gasps peppered with exhilarated screams of uncontrollable joy. The leaves and blades and blooms felt like heaven against her skin. When she reached the sparser land right around the Singularity, she fell to her knees at the stone, her forehead pressed to the monolith as she cried.
When her lungs gave out and her chest finally squeezed the last of her emotion out, Julie slid down to sit next to the Singularity, resting against it. It felt more alive, somehow, its voice more realized in her head. Panting, she listened as she caught her breath. All she could hear, could feel, was happiness. Like sunshine on the stone, same as the first day they'd met. Sunshine that now seeped into her pores and filled her body like a vessel. Everything felt warm and real and right.
From the edge of the grass, yards from where she sat, there was a rustling. She watched as they emerged — Duke, Rex, Villain. All three still wearing their collars, they settled around her, a menagerie of fantastical little creatures. Unicorn, tyrannosaurus, golden dragon.
Julie feared her heart might burst from happiness, then caught her own silliness with a laugh. Her viper, pastel and shimmering, wound its way up her arm, flicked its tongue at her cheek. Duke laid his head on her bare leg, just above her knee, and closed his black eyes contentedly.
A question pressed itself softly into her mind, like a reassuring weight, a blanket.
"No," Julie answered aloud, stroking Villain's long, scaled neck with one finger. "They'll be along soon enough."
