Juncture

This story starts like many others, at the end of a cycle. A girl with cherry colored hair stands above a small city. She could see the people walking around, minding their own business. She saw leaves with colors so bright they looked like jewels. She sees a young boy and his mother, some teens just wandering around, adults hurrying to their jobs. She craved that, seeing what they saw, feeling what they felt. As she stands on the clouds she lets her mind wander. After a while of swimming among her thoughts she lets herself fall.

~~

 As Phoenix walked through the city, she couldn’t help but marvel at the buildings. They were some kind of combination of modern and gothic architecture. As she wandered into a park, she was stopped in her tracks by an auburn-haired beauty. She had an air of innocence that made one want to protect her. She was standing among the jewel-like leaves. 

 As Phoenix drew closer, more details about her were engraved into her brain. She had dark, almost bruise-like, bags below her eyes and she looked bonnier, not in a healthy way. She carried a dark leather journal with her. Papers were within the pages of the journal by a bluish band keeping the journal closed. 

 Phoenix came to the park every day that autumn, as did the stranger. The only thing that changed is that the last day she saw the girl at the park, was that that day another person came running screaming the girl’s name. They fought so fiercely that they would’ve won the respect of the Romans by now. Looking back at that day, Phoenix can’t help but wish that they had made up, for the very next day the obituary of Aurelia Claudius was read by everyone in the city. 

~~

 Phoenix loved to waste her time in a small, cozy coffee shop during the winter season. This one had the best pastries she’d ever tasted, so it was no wonder she often went there both to watch people and to read a good book. As entranced as she was by All the Bright Places, she couldn’t help but look up at the chime of the bell above the door.

 There was a guy with his hair completely covered in snow carrying many bags. She didn’t notice that his hair is actually white until he is sitting on the couch opposite to her. He notices her staring and smiles at her. They continue what they were doing in a complete silence that was broken by the young man.

 “We haven’t introduced ourselves, yet. I’ll go first, my name is Robin Wayne.” He gave her a smile that would have made any other person fall to their knees. What made his gunmetal blue eyes that carried to little yet so much emotion? 

 “I’m Phoenix,” she replied. Just like that they started meeting there every Friday. Each meeting, Robin’s smile would look faker and his eyes duller. He would also bring an assortment of bags with him when she questioned him about it, he replied,” I like making others happy,” but she could tell he wasn’t happy.

 On the last Friday of winter, his spot was abandoned. His usual black tea and sugar biscuits were ordered by Phoenix because she hoped he was only running late. Why wouldn’t he? It was not like he wasn’t going to show up. But it was almost closing time and he didn’t come in. 

 Sick of her roommate, the very next Saturday she was sitting by the window of the small café, hot chocolate in front of her when she saw what looked like a raven-haired genderbend of Robin. She was talking to a friend, she told her about the fact that her brother was in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt. He swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills; apparently, he said he just wanted to feel happier, to stop feeling numb. Since his family didn’t let him near knives or blades since his last attempt two years prior. 

~~

 Walking through the streets during spring was one of the best things Phoenix had done. She was “exercising”, she could smell the sweet aroma of the flowers, and could watch everything in the highlight of their lives until they died in autumn. That’s how she met Clover, walking through the streets, she came upon her. She was tending to some flowers roses, mums, carnations, and hydrangea.

 Their friendship starts like many others with small talk. But the small talk soon turns into longer and somewhat more intimate- yet not so intimate- subjects. They talk about flowers, about books and hobbies, about why they chose those hobbies. The conversation flowers smoothly and sweetly as melted chocolate does. It only coats the bitter-sweetness of the truth. Phoenix knew that, yet she wishes she could say she wasn’t surprised when truth blew up at her overly normal face.

 “Did you hear about that gang in the area?” she asked,” I hear that they’re doing some shady stuff around here. Please do be careful.”

 “Oh?”

 “Yes. I suppose the deals must be good around here for them to take such interest in this area,” she was lying, but over time, she just became another one of those monsters. The ones who can lie their way out of everything, the ones who felt no regret in doing so, why would she? This girl was too shady, too evasive as if hiding something. She also noticed a tattoo peeking from her sleeve. Whatever the petite blonde was hiding she was gonna find out. “I mean as much as I hate to admit, especially in front of someone like you, is that the suburbs are filled with desperate housewives, teens looking for a ‘good time’, and husbands who are sick of their family, so the sales are probably sky-high.” She shrugged as she finished and for a moment she was sure all Clover saw was red. 

 She gave a good laugh when Clover pinned her to the ground and held a knife against her throat. If she was honest, she loved the small flame in the girl’s eyes, it ignited something in her. The maniacal side of her- the one that currently had the most control over the body- wanted to lean close to her face and suck the angry, desperate soul of the girl, but she knew she couldn’t. So she did the second best thing she could, she quickly flipped them over, pinning her hands above her head with one hand as she held the knife on the other. She slowly dragged, almost caressed, the knife down the girl’s neck over to her stomach. 

 Just like that, the life of Clover Underwood ended. With a redhead spilling her blood and guts all over her precious garden. A place Clover had once considered sacred, a place one had to bare themselves to get into, they would have to take their sandals off before entering her sacred hideout.

~~

 As insane as Phoenix was, she knew that there was no problem ice cream couldn’t solve, with a few exceptions. Like that time she had to get her fingerprints out of a blonde’s body, or when people were being assholes, be it to the LGTB+ community, a child, defenseless animals, or anyone. So when a boy clad head to toe in red, blue, and white sat next to her and started talking about his plans loud enough to make the girl behind the counter uncomfortable, at that moment she knew she had to tell him to quiet down, or else. 

 But as she turns around to give him a piece of her mind, she sees him. His raven hair falls over his eyes, partly obscuring them, but she can see his chartreuse eyes. She doesn’t think much about the color, the fire that the eyes hold is enough to make her fall for him. She is sure Eros is just playing a prank on her- why else would a boy with the abyss for hair and a fire brighter than Hestia’s flames walk into her life? And he smiles, god, he smiles and then she’s sure nothing can compare to his stunning smile. 

 “Hey,” he says, quieter than before, but still loud enough. 

 “Hi,” she thanks her father she didn’t squeal. She doesn’t know why he feels familiar until he starts talking to her. Well, talking isn’t the right word. He’s almost lecturing her; he spoke with so much passion people threw curious glances their way. 

 That’s when it clicks. She couldn’t help but compare him to how he looked so many years ago. His pale skin is replaced for a tan complexion, his eyes are no longer the color of blueberries, and his hair is no longer that chestnut color she always loved. But there were similarities, like when he smiled he only showed a couple of his teeth, or how he carried a sketchbook with him. Reincarnation did quite a number on him, she’ll admit that. 

 “Excuse me,” she interrupts him mid-lecture,” I don’t think I caught your name.” She smiles because he doesn’t know her. Because she wants him to but knows it’s not possible. Because lying is what she’s best at. 

 “How rude of me,” he says somewhat joking,” Call me Eden. And who might you be?”

 “Who? Little old me? You might say that every end is a new beginning for me.” With that she stood up and left. She barely made it back to her place before collapsing on the ground. A weird feeling spread across her lungs and went up to her throat. She was on fire and couldn’t get air onto her lungs fast enough. 

  The next day she went to the same ice cream shop and sat in the same stool, as she had done every day of that summer. To her surprise, a couple of minutes after she sat down to eat her Rocky Road cone, Eden sat down eating plain ol’ strawberry ice cream. This time he was quieter, almost shy, but he soon started enthusiastically sketching. She paid him no mind until he spoke up,” What are you a slave to?”

 The question caught her off guard; she didn’t know what to answer. After thinking for a little bit, she answered,” What aren’t I a slave to?” Eden had a look on his face that told her he was about to go on about freedom and the beauty of randomness or some other bullcrap, but she wasn’t gonna let him. So she continued,” Do not try to preach me, because you’re a slave to your own beliefs. Look at you, enslaving people into what you believe, hoping they’ll convert to your ways. You have the fire in your eyes of a guy who’d lead an army int battle, but the spirit of a boy who didn’t realize he sent himself and his men to a fruitless battle. You are a peacock; you flaunt around showing off your feathers, but don’t realize they are falling off one by one.” By the end of her rant she felt somewhat at peace. It was late August, summer’s deathbed. 

 Eden just stood up and walked away. Just like he did more than three hundred years ago when he left to lead a small battalion and never came back. 

~~

 It’s autumn again, the leaves adorn the ground as people walk around. Phoenix walks to the other side of the park, her backpack heavy on her shoulders. As she walks through the park she saw an auburn-haired boy sitting among the leaves, she couldn’t help but stare at him. She remembered the girl with her life ahead of her.

 With Aurelia in mind she continued the journey to her father’s domain. The journey was long and tiring, but she knew it’d be worth it.