Friday, September 26, 2008

A Perfectly Collective Day

Just had a lot of fun with this one. Tons of different twists...

Don't forget to read Joanee's blog, An Open Book, for more great fiction!


The strains of music trickled through Mariya's bedroom window.

Window. Open.

The thought sparked her awake and she sat bolt upright. Morning's warm breath slipped through the crack...a large hole in the center of the glass. Her gasp was delayed by a half-squeak as she swung her feet off of the opposite end, away from the glittering sharpness.

Her first step was doomed as the inevitable prick followed. Frustration marred her new day, the result of this unnecessary annoyance. She hobbled to the bathroom, wary of the glittering shards that littered the floor.

If she were a tad more awake, perhaps she would've noticed the ratio of glass to the hole in her window was very much overdone. However, her only concern focused on her now bleeding foot, as she dangled it in the tub, rinsing with water.

Rose-tinted water trickled down the drain as the chunk of glass was swiped up with a piece of toilet paper. The offensive bit was quickly disposed of and the remainder of her morning time was spent bandaging sponging the cut.

Well, sponging at least. Mariya finally opted to wash her face in hopes of truly shocking herself awake. Her thoughts circled around calling the police and then her landlord. They'd both ask questions she was barely coherent enough to answer.

Her fingers absently feathered over the cut and she froze. It took another moment, before her jaw dropped.

The cut was gone.

In place of the angry red slash, was now a reflective, silvery sort of tattoo.

I am dreaming.

Silver stars swam before her eyes and Mariya saw the ceramic floor rushing to greet her.


"Princess! Princess!"

Shawn's frantic pleading slipped into the ears of Princes Mariya.

"We cannot afford to lose her again, man! Do something!" The advisor demanded.

The fairy prince scowled. "The healers are doing all they can, Shawn, please....check the troops or something. My sister will not die...but when she wakes, I fear we will be in for battle."

A shade of pale gray-puple tinged Shawn's elfin forehead. "Sire?"

"A battle, Shawn." The prince said loftily, he yawned. "Surely you know the only reason my sister would go undercover in the human world is only to unearth the traitor that betrayed us to them."

"Traitor?" Shawn licked his lips. "Sire, perhaps you are jumping to conclusions...too soon?"

Piercing green eyes sliced through him. "I beg your pardon, advisor? Kindly remove your presence from mine!"

Princess Mariya stirred and her violet eyelids blinked open. "Brother?" She whispered hoarsely. The dimensional journey had taxed more than merely her physical and emotional body.

"Sister!" The prince rushed to kneel at her side, taking her hand in his. The silver tattoos on the backs of their hands, glowed in sync, the mindlink replacing the need to verbalize thoughts.

A gasp escaped and he drew back, breaking the link, his hand going to his sword. "Surely this cannot be!" The words burst from his lips.

Pain etched across his beloved sister's face. "ach...but it is. I saw it and you saw what I saw, brother. There is no choice."


"That's it?" Andrea bounced off her BFF's new bed. "Ugh...Sarah! You can't leave it like that, you just can't! How am I supposed to know what happens next?"

Sarah perked a brow, perfectly groomed and arched to perfection. "Excuse you, Ands..." She reached over and snatched the papers back. "You're the one that keeps asking for more, good grief, I've tried to end it five times already!"

"But the fairy prince..." Andrea whined. Her sixteen-year old voice didn't do the whine justice as she flopped across the fluffy bedspread. " know it'll make the perfect project for creative writing, why don't you just...spiff it up and finish it for that?"

"You just have a crush on the fairy prince." Sarah snickered into her keyboard.

"I do not!" Andrea sputtered...her cheeks flared red. "You're a good writer! This is a gift! Don't throw it away!"

"I'm throwing away a gift...because I'm working on my science project instead of writing the end to a story you don't want me to end?" The eyebrow went up again.

"Sarah!" Andrea drew out the syllables as long as she could. "Thanks a lot!"

"You're welcome." Sarah mumbled, her fingers flying across the keyboard. "Some of us actually have to work to get good grades you know."

"Uh...huh..." Andrea sniffed. "How 'bout a hint?"

"A hint?" Sarah paused in mid-type. "Excuse you?"

"Just a tiny one..." Andrea grinned. "You know...something nice and tiny..."

"Like a tidbit?" Sarah sighed.

"Yeah! Tidbits are good!"

"A nice juicy one you can spread all over school before Monday morning, so the whole student body knows just exactly what's going to happen next in this very first opportunity of being published in the school newspaper through a serial."

"Huh-wha?" Andrea tossed a pillow in the general direction of the steady clicking keyboard.

It was promptly returned with a soft whack to her head. "Andy...I'm not telling."

"I'm your best friend!"

"And because I'm you're best friend, I'm not telling you. I don't want you to have to carry that burden until Monday when Mr. Marson approves this next installment."

"But Sarah!"

"But Andrea!" Sarah smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, if you really wanna know what happens..."


"You could always help me with my science project...we're allowed to get help from friends and family."

Andrea scowled. "Thanks a way! I've done enough science stuff to last me a lifetime. How bout snacks? I'll go make some snacks...that's a good idea."

"Bye Andrea!" Sarah smothered a laugh as her friend hurried from the room. The laugh faded as her gaze rested on the tiny snowglobe above her monitor. The sparkles flickered and danced, before the miniature figure stepped through the glass.


"Your highness...."

Copyright 2008 Sara Harricharan

Friday, September 5, 2008

A Closetful of Tears (Friday Fiction)

Click here to read and share more great fiction! Fiction Fridays is hosted by Patty Wysong @ her blog, Patterings.


The tear-stained closet walls could barely hold her shadow as she crept into their comfort once more. Life was black as the deepest slice of the ocean...again.

Coldness seeped through the tacky linoleum floor, but it was expected, that's why she'd tucked the old bathroom rug behind the shoeboxes. Leah stepped inside and turned off the light. She left the door open, just a crack, to let the last meager rays of sunlight through.

Her fingers reached for the rug and she felt along the stacks of shoeboxes until her fingers brushed softness. It was carefully unrolled and tucked in the corner. Her corner.

Leah squeezed past the shoeboxes, laundry hamper and oversized winter coats. Hunkering down on the square of warmth, she hugged her knees to her chest.

Silence reigned.

The hollow sounds of her brother's footsteps filtered through the closet walls. But they didn't care. They were only heading to the kitchen for food. They didn't know she faked a smile before she stepped out of the car. Or that she kept that same smile stuck on her face until she was saftely within her space.

She should've been outside. Doing chores. Homework. Resting.

Leah fingered the rough wool of a winter coat. The texture was comforting. She sat and waited. The sun faded and various family members stuck their heads through the door with the familiar. "Leah, where are you?"

I'm right here. Leah thought at them. Right here, just come in.

But no one ventured past the doorway. The shadow of heads passed by on the wall as life continued as norma.

I only want to talk to you. Leah pinched her toes to get some feeling into them. I just need to talk to somebody. Anybody. Please?

Her unspoken plea leapt to the front and triggered the first tear. It trickled down her cheek in solitary defiance, another mark her heart would bear. The plea sifted and settled down once more, in the box beneath her heart.

She gently wiped that single tear and smeared it on the wall. For a moment, a second tear threatened to break loose, but Leah pressed her lips together.

Not today. Not today. She willed herself. The ache started up. From the nape of her head to the center of her skull. I hate you. I hate you.

Her cellphone vibrated loudly on the desk.

Leah stumbled to her feet, crashing through the shoeboxes and the closet door. Her shaking fingers grappled with the cellphone before she could see the screen.

Soft purple lights illuminated the word she hadn't dared to hope for. Daddy.

Her real father was dead. Her step-father never called. But last week that call had come. Just when she'd needed it most. Impossible yes, necessary, yes.

Breath ceased for the milli-second as logic ruled whether it was possible for such a call to occur...again. Leah shook her head to clear away the doubt. Trembling fingers flipped it open and she put it to her ear.


"Leah?" The warmth on the other end, radiated through, warming her cheeks and sending a tingle through her frozen toes.

"You called." The tears began to spill over.

"I'm always here, Leah. Especially when you need me."

"I'm not dreaming?"

"It's okay to cry. I gave you tears for a reason."

Leah sank to the floor, curling up near the bedroom window. The tears were coming freely now. "What reason?"

"To express many emotions that words could never encompass."

"You make it sound beautiful." A salty specimen slipped through her lips.

"It is beautiful...when you are so happy you cry, there is beauty in that."

"What if I'm not happy?"

"There is beauty in the expression, my child. You will not see it now, because it is not yet your time. But there is no harm in crying. All week you have tried to be strong, but you cannot be strong alone."


Another tingle of warmth spread through her. Leah sniffled.

"Okay...I get it."

"It's okay,'s okay. Talk to me...."

Copyright 2008. Sara Harricharan