Dark defiance

Darkness had fallen heavily on the village, like fresh snow sent from the devil himself. A serene silence filled the cool summer air, and all was peaceful and calm. The birds rested patiently whilst the village slept. With the morning sun would come their morning songs.

A loud note broke the silence as surely as an axe through thick winter ice. One bird could not wait. He sang, his head tilted towards the black sky, his chest puffed out in pride. He threw his wings out behind him and sang from his rooftop; calling again and again and again. The other birds looked out from under their sleepy wings in horror and disbelief, watching this little creature so brazenly defy the rules.

Lights were starting to go on in the houses. The little bird had woken everybody up. One grumpy man in his pajamas spotted the bird and huffed; so this was the thing that was making all the noise. He picked up stones and flung them roughly at the roof, the first few missing, but the last one striking the bird, knocking him. He lost his balance and fell, shocked with the pain and the cruelty, but he remembered himself and flew upwards just before he hit the ground.

Gingerly resuming his perch, the bird watched the man victoriously stroll back inside, and he sang one last mellow note before quietening. His head faced the floor and not the sky, and his wings had drooped by his sides. The other birds turned away and went back to sleep, bemused by the whole event, and the little bird who dared to sing in the dark flew up and away into the night alone, unnoticed by anyone.  

You have nothing to say and I have no one to blame

Tears, like tiny spheres of crystal, are falling from your perfect white face. This was never meant to happen. I want to put my hands around your neck, press my mouth to your throat and tell you that everything will be fine - but why lie? I can see it, in the dark dim reflection of those hazel eyes of yours. You're frightened, frightened of me and what's going to happen, frightened of the future ahead. And I'm hurting you, as sure as stabbing a knife between your perfect shoulders and twisting it around and around. The hot blood is spilling over my fingers now, I can see that...but what can be done?

Tell me, what can I do? I put my arm around your tiny waist and drag you closer to me, your warm breath against my cheek. I feel calmer for having done so, but at the same time I feel more terrified than ever. My hands are shaking – I need to leave you alone. This was never meant to happen. You don't belong to me, you never did. I run a tentative hand through your soft brown hair and almost angrily wipe the tears from your face with my trembling fingers. I don't want them to be there, because they are my fault. This was all my fault, don't you see? You blame yourself, but had you never met me, never known me, none of this would have ever happened.

I just never thought I'd care about you. But standing there, leaning against me, your slender arms wrapped around my God forsaken shoulders, you are everything. I care about nothing more in the entire world than just protecting you. You have nothing to say, and I have no one to blame...what a pair we are. Inseparable, but yet we repel each other like pole to pole magnets. I cup your chin and delicately kiss the top of your head; it's now my turn to cry.

Our future, our beautiful future, destroyed by everything, smashed to pieces by our very society. I should leave you now, leave you before we both get killed, but your beauty is like a drug. I have to stay, even just to keep my eyes on your face and know that you were real, and that I didn't just dream you up. You are tense, and your face looks older than it did a week ago. You have aged in this time...this has taken things from you that can never be replaced. And it's all my fault.

The life of Mico: the station of doom

Mico had developed a fear of Leeds station, ever since that first visit, when he had been travelling to visit his elderly aunt. He had barely escaped with his life.

First, there was the train. It was hot, and the steamy oppressive air seemed to crush him, and begged him to close his eyes and sleep. He didn't notice when it started to slow down, and then suddenly he needed to get off. The doors were closing, but he made a dive and managed to throw himself in between them. Like the jaws of some great mechanical monster, they clamped down on him, immobilising him. He was held there at an awkward angle, trapped, to the great amusement of the passing commuters. Finally, it freed him, and he fell forward flat onto his face.

Wow, could things get worse? Of course they could. The machines. The bloody barrier machines. They accepted his ticket, but then spat it back out at him. When he tried again, the same thing happened. There was a que forming behind him but the machines merely barred his path; he could almost hear them laughing at his failure to outwit them. He ended up doubling back, passing a seemingly serene old man who then smashed his walking stick into Mico's shins for making him wait. His eyes watering with agony, he hobbled to a member of staff to explain his issue. With a raised eyebrow and an amused smile he was admitted through the dreadful barrier.

The door was within sight. This traumatic experience was almost over. But then, along came the crazy middle aged woman with the suitcase, rampaging down through the station like a hungry animal who had caught sight of prey. There was no time to jump aside, he was instantly bowled over. He was tall, but she had power and angry determination, so he lay dazed on the ground under the watchful eyes of the bored people around him. When he blinked and looked around, she had gone. Some people...

But back on his feet he kept going. A tap on his shoulder - what now!? No, he did not want to buy car insurance, he didn't even have a car. But then he looked up and saw the man who had asked him, towering above him with biceps the size of basketballs. Tattoos were scrawled around his neck and exposed chest, and his face was angry. Car insurance? Why, yes, of course he needed car insurance, how nice to be asked. Once he'd signed up using a fake address and fake bank details, he ran.

He ran, right into mad lady with the suitcase number two, over her bag and doing a sort of flip into the air, landing spread eagled on the ground. She was the colour of a watsit and also flashed tattoos, with fake eyelashes and pink lipstick to match. 

"Watch it, sunshine!" she bellowed, tugging her bag back to it's feet and hurrying off. Dazed, confused, and not sure he wanted to come to Leeds ever again, Mico got unsteadily to his feet for the second time.

Then he saw her. She saw him, really, and he caught her eye as she appeared to smile apologetically at him. Beauty was an accumulation of letters and did no justice to this delicate, angelic and wondrous human being. He approached her, barely knowing what he was doing - oh, she had dropped her purse, he would be a gallant knight and pick it up for her, and then she would love him forever, unconditionally.

Nope, instead she swung her arm and her fist connected with the fleshy part of his nose and he reeled backwards with blood spurting down his t shirt. 

"I don't think so, jack ass!" she yelled, grabbing up her purse and turning on her heel. Wow, an angry, scary witch had just erupted from the skin of the beautiful being. It was like the caterpillar to the butterfly, but in reverse. And so much worse because caterpillars are actually kind of cute and don't make you bleed uncontrollably.

Arriving at his aunts house, she gasped and grabbed his shoulders the moment she saw him.

"My god - were you mugged?" she peered up and down him; there was still blood all over his face. 

"No," he admitted. "It was just...Leeds station."