White Petals (A Modern Fairy Tale)

Issac plucked at his mini-tuxedo with pride. Being the ring bearer at your own mother's wedding was a big responsibility that only a six-year-old could handle. He grinned up at his soon-to-be father, who ruffled his hair so enthusiastically Issac felt his knees rattle.

“Big day today, Scamp,” The large man rumbled, shoving a little red pillow with a rather unglamorous ring pinned to it into his chest. “Don't screw it up.” With one last clap on the head, he pushed Issac into the hall and snapped the door shut.

Issac looked around awkwardly; no one seemed to be paying attention to him but instead commenced rushing up and down the narrow hallway. The only one apparently not in a hurry was an inexplicably creepy little girl crouched beneath a battered desk with a flower basket in her lap. Ring-pillow clutched tightly against his chest, Issac picked his way over to her through the stampede of secondhand suits and thrift-store ball gowns.

“Selena,” he scolded, leaning down next to the desk, “You're getting your dress all messy. Flower girls are supposed to look pretty. You look ugly and dirty.”

Without looking up from her basket she muttered, “I look better than any old cow here anyway,” she glanced at him. “Including Mommy. It's just a dumb old wedding anyway.”

Issac bristled. “You're dumb,” he countered lamely, glaring at his identical-as-a-girl-can-get sister. She smirked at him through a curtain of black hair, then turned her focus back to her flower basket. Issac scrunched up his face into a frown.

Selena picked out a single white rose petal and stared at it intently. “Do-on't,” Issac whined. The petal flickered in a non-existent breeze and abruptly turned into a small white spider which scuttled across her hand. Selena watched it's journey tranquilly; Issac stamped his foot in frustration. “Those are for the wedding. Stop it!” he fussed as she drew out another petal and proceeded to transform it into another spider. She repeated this four more times, before Issac wailed, “I'm telling!”

Selena stopped pulling out petals and played with a spider, letting it race across her hand and up her arm, then scooping it into her other hand. “No one would believe you.”

Issac pouted as she let the spider march up her sleeve and held out a petal for him to observe. He watched as another spider wiggled into existence and fall from her fingers on a fine thread of silk. She wound the thread around her finger at the same pace the spider was descending, forcing the arachnid to climb endlessly without moving anywhere. “I'm telling that you're mean and filthy and I hate you,” Issac announced spitefully. Selena offered the spider on the thread to him. “Gross!” he objected.

“You're just scared,” Selena taunted. Issac shook his head vigorously. “C'mere,” She shifted to give him room under the desk. Issac crawled under carefully, trying his best to keep his tuxedo clean and precious ring pillow safe. Feet thundered past as Selena positioned the basket between them. They both took out a petal with one hand and held it close to their faces in concentration. Selena's morphed into a spider that took a flying leap onto her nose. Issac's didn't change.

“I liked it the way it was,” he pouted, dropping the petal back into the basket. Selena grinned malevolently at him, the white spider blending with her cheek.

“Here,” She put the basket in his lap while burying her whole hand in the fragrant petals. The basket seemingly exploded with white and pink spiders, thousands of tiny bodies surging over the edge and scampering in all directions. Issac gasped and held his little pillow over his head, scraping the ring on the underside of the desk. Little feet tickled up his arms and neck.

“Selena!” He wailed as spiders flooded his mouth and trickled webs over his eyes. He heard her laugh behind the cobwebs.

***

Selena placed a chair in front of her bookcase and sat it in placidly. Her books loomed in front of her, mocking her. They were in for a surprise. She pulled the first book within her reach off the mahogany shelf and opened it somewhere close to the middle. With a tilt to her head and a smirk in her eyes, she tore a page out with a satisfying, crackling rip. The page drifted to the floor, helpless to halt the murder of novels occurring above it. More pages followed, making paper waves on the carpet.

In the next room over, Issac heaved a sigh and dragged himself out of bed. He could hear the tremendous tearing sounds coming from his sister's room and knew that if he could hear it, his stepfather certainly could. Hoping to stop another outburst in time, Issac silently opened his door and tiptoed over to Selena's room. Poking his head in, he hissed “What are you doing?!” He snaked his body in and quietly closed the door. Selena did not acknowledge his presence, she just sat and demolished her books page by page. “Your books! Are you crazy? Cut it out!” He blew out several black candles next to the door and frantically waved his arms to disperse the smoke.

Selena pulled a fresh book from the shelf and started shredding it, ignoring her identical-as-a-boy-can-get brother fretting all over her room. Every page she ripped out was effortless, like plucking wings off a fly, and she enjoyed dismembering each book.

Issac was fluttering over by her bed, flapping his arms in the light of a lamp he had apparently just turned on. “...Nearly nine years living with this guy, you'd think you'd realize by now that he doesn't like candles, but it's not like you ever listen to me!” he whisper-screamed at her. She tore out several pages at once with an extra flourish. Issac briefly tugged at his hair before snatching the book out of her grasp. “Stop it! Do you like getting screamed at?” His voice rose to almost a conversation level, and out in the living room he could hear grumbling. Issac froze; Selena reached for another book. Issac grabbed her hand before it reached the bookcase with a nervous glance towards the door. Selena turned to look at him for the first time that night, unleashing an eerie, wide-eyed glare on him. Thoroughly used to this creepy look, he just rolled his eyes at her until the door crashed open.

“What the Hell!” came a drunken roar, and Issac felt his arm holding the destroyed book caught in an iron grip. He let go of Selena in surprise. “What the Hell!” his step-father roared again, twisting Issac's arm behind his back, forcing him to drop the book. Issac squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth.

“Sorry!” he pleaded. “We were just-- it's a project for school-- I mean--”

“Look at this!” his stepfather bellowed. “ All of your damn books I had to buy! You stupid kids!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Issac yelled, attempting to squirm out of his stepfather's hold before his arm broke.

Selena was still seated in her chair, her back to the entire incident. Amazingly, she started to laugh. Issac's stepfather loosened his grip on Issac's arm in confusion and Issac shook himself free, rubbing his shoulder protectively. Selena's insane giggling reminded him of a cartoon villain, and he stared at her worriedly.

“You. Stupid girl!” His stepfather lunged at Selena. Acting on instinct, Issac knocked him off-course with his hurt shoulder. Both stumbled awkwardly, and Selena stopped laughing and just grinned ghoulishly at her stepfather.

Issac's stepfather looked between the two almost-identical twins; Selena smirking ominously at him, Issac hugging himself with tears drying on his face. He narrowed his eyes and shrieked with rage, charging at Issac this time. Issac closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact of his stepfather's fist; Selena let the smile drip off her face, glaring at her stepfather with unlimited hatred and hostility.

Stars exploded in Issac's eyes as his stepfather struck him and he painfully dropped to the floor. He stared up at his stepfather, feeling like a frightened mouse. At a glance over at his sister however, and he became all the more frightened.

Selena looked like evil itself manifested, a malicious abomination intent on destroying their stepfather. The room grew darker, not from a dimming light, but rather from an excess of shadows. Issac's eyes went wide; his stepfather's were about to pop out of his skull. Selena held out her arms grotesquely as the shadows condensed around her.

“Don't touch my brother,” she intoned poisonously. Her stepfather shook his head, trembling slightly, either from the amount of alcohol in his system or from being truly frightened. Selena tilted her head, her ink-black hair spilling over her face. “Get. Out,” Her stepfather backed out of the room slowly, almost whimpering. Selena dropped her arms and turned back to her bookcase. The shadows melted away, and Issac found it was easier to breathe. Selena delicately plucked a book from a shelf and sat down.

“Thanks,” Issac whispered, scrubbing his face and getting to his feet.

“Don't mention it,” She began ripping out pages again, one by one.

“That was brilliantly scary, you know. I wonder if he'll listen to you. Did you see the look on his--”

“I said, don't mention it,” She punctuated this sentence with and extra violent rip, then continued her calm destruction of her books. Issac smiled at her back shakily, then tiptoed back to his own room.

***

Issac sprinted through the neighborhood, heart pounding. He tried to call out, but the freezing air left him gasping and choking. He vaulted the back fence of the school yard like he always did and jogged across the soccer field clutching his side. A girl was sitting on the one rusted swing left untouched on the whole playground, it was twisting slightly. Issac limped up to her, wheezing and coughing.

“Hey,” he panted. “Selena. There you are. Glad I found you.”

She twisted her swing around to glare at him. The chains appeared to have thorny vines snarled in them; one thorn left a deep gash on her arm that was slowly oozing blood. Issac opened his mouth to comment on it, but she let the swing spin itself back to normal with her back to him. Issac slumped his shoulders sadly and plopped down in the gravel next to her.

“You know,” he said conversationally, picking idly at a headless pigeon lying next to him, “It really wasn't your fault. Dad's just a jerk--”

“He's not my dad,” she growled, narrowing her eyes at nothing.

“Yeah. Well. I read this book once about how kids like to blame themselves for their parents' problems. Mom was just...” Issac trailed off, pulling feathers off the headless pigeon and flicking them at his shoes. “It was an accident... I mean, anyone could cut themselves...” He picked up the whole bird and threw it at the wall of the old elementary school muttering, “No one's fault...”

“I know who's fault it was,” Selena piped up darkly.

Issac flopped on his back, ignoring the chill of frozen ground soaking through his sweatshirt and lacing his hands behind his head. “Oh stop it,” he snapped, sneering up at the starless sky. He exhaled a plume of mist. “Sorry,” he added a moment later.

“I'm not going back,” Selena said meditatively somewhere over his head. The swingset creaked.

“Me neither.”

They both went silent; Issac sprawled on the ground and Selena hunched in her swing, both searching the night sky for any light other than the orange city glow.

“I'm cold.”

“Ditto.”

Neither of the almost-identical twins moved. Issac watched his breath fogging in front of him for a long time. “Where should we go?” he asked, more to himself. Selena said nothing. Issac hadn't expected and answer. “I guess lets just start with somewhere warm. C'mon,”

He pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to Selena. She looked at it questioningly, hesitated, then let go of the swing and grabbed his hand. Her hand and forearm was scratched and bleeding from the thorns in the chains, but both Issac and Selena were too numb to notice. They started to leave the playground, hand in hand, when Issac noticed something shining on the wall of the school. A bird was painted on the wall in crimson, frost white on the edges. It had its dripping wings spread and was flying into a bleeding sunset. Issac glanced at the half-bald, headless pigeon at the foot of the wall and wondered what the little kids and teachers would think of it later.

“Pretty,” he said, and the two walked off, blood freezing their hands together.

***

Selena stood on the verge of the unfilled grave, picking apart her bouquet and dropping the pieces into the dirt. The wind picked up and blew dead leaves in with the petal bits, swirling around her and making her coat flap around her calves. Issac slouched up behind her and kicked the 'Beloved husband and father' carving on the gravestone.

“'Beloved' my ass. Now he can finally stop fucking with our lives. Hi,” he said distractedly to her. Selena looked up at him, still tearing apart her flowers and tossing the pieces in the grave. “You know,” Issac teased, “Once upon a time you turned those into spiders.” He grinned at her.

She reached up and put a petal in his hair, a smile playing in her eyes. He could feel the little feet tickling across his scalp, and he reached up and pulled the struggling spider out. He handed it back to her; a smooth white petal. She took it with surprise. Issac raised his eyebrows at her.

“Been a long time. Nice to see you,” He said sincerely, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She gave a small snicker and threw her whole bouquet into the grave. Spiders overflowed as the two left the graveyard.

Blink and You'll Miss It

Tuesday was the first day Emile could remember since her childhood that she looked up at the clouds and actually saw shapes in them. There were five or six fluffy, downy ones swimming gracefully across an oceanic sky, clearly shaped like sea turtles. They floated artfully in time with her music playing softly on a boom box next to her, gently paddling their clearly formed fins to the rhythm. She rested her book (An anthology of faerie creatures) slowly in her lap without taking her eyes off the turtles. A breeze tousled her hair and seemed to lift her spirit slightly off her seat on the low wall. For a wonderful, wind swept moment, she was a kid again, and if she tried hard enough maybe the currents would sweep her up and she could fly away. The clouds really were sea turtles, not cumulus. It had been so long since she hadn't looked at the world scientifically and critically that the pure childish joy of shaped clouds made her want to smile and laugh and cry all at once. Instead she turned to the boy sitting next to her (but not really next to her as he was at least two people-sized seats away) and pointed out the turtles.

“What, you mean the cumulus ones?” was his reply.

This lead to a philosophical discussion on a child's view of the world as compared to young adults (such as themselves) which lead to a brainstorm of magic as a scientific possibility and then out to a pondering on the universe and the Meaning of Life. By the time the unavoidable Douglass Adams quote had been pulled out, the sky was an overcast gray and the clouds looked like nothing, save for a potential for rain.