Land of a Million Stars
a penny for my thoughts, oh no, i'll sell them for a dollar
“Quinn.” I stepped back, away from the tree, out of Quinn’s reach.
“Yeah?”
“You’re broken.”
There was a long silence, looming over us like a raincloud. Quinn stared at me, his face blank. I thought I’d gone too far but I needed to help Quinn. If I helped him, maybe, just maybe, I could help myself.
“I know.”
Quinn’s voice was clear, loud, and seemed to echo across the empty plains. Sadness didn’t line his face, nor did any other emotion. It was empty, straight and neutral.
“I can fix you,” I whispered.
The laughter that erupted from somewhere inside Quinn was dark and sounded all wrong coming from him. It made me wince. “No one can,” he told me flatly.
“Because you won’t let them,” I said. Quinn stepped closer to me, his eyes blazing like green fire. I didn’t move back.
“No one wants to try,” Quinn said.
“I do.”
He stepped back again, and opened his arms wide. “Go ahead, then, El. Fix me.”
I didn’t like his tone but I moved forward anyway. I placed my hands on his chest, fingers splayed apart. His heartbeat was rapid, horses hooves thundering across a desert.
“You’re sad,” I said, shocking even myself. I could feel his emotions, read the deepest secrets he kept buried so deep down. They were clear and I knew them.
“Nice one,” Quinn said. “You learn that from Victoria?” I swallowed the hurt and glared at Quinn.
“It’s more than just normal sad,” I said, my eyes softening. “It’s deeper, it goes to your very core. It plagues you. This sadness, this hurt, it consumes you. But only when you let it. You’ve beaten the darkness before; you do it often. But it doesn’t leave.” Quinn’s heartbeat started going faster. He looked away.
“It will always be there, Quinn. The darkness, it won’t ever leave. It’s become a part of you. You must accept it.” I looked up from his heart and into his eyes that were boring into my own. “There’s a lot of things you haven’t accepted.”
“Like?” Quinn swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Don’t be afraid to accept them,” I said, reading the fear that filled his body. “Your father dying is because of him. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“It feels like it’s all my fault,” Quinn whispered. His green eyes grew glassy as he fought back the tears.
“It’s not,” I assured him. “Your father did what he did because he chose to. You had nothing to do with that.” I reached deeper. “And me. You haven’t accepted me. Not as a ghost. I am, though, Quinn. I’m not a part of this world any longer.”
“I know,” he said.
“No, you don’t. Quinn, I am here now but I will be gone soon. But I’m in here.” I pressed my hand against his heart. “Forever, I’ll be there. Always.”
And then the connection broke. I collapsed against Quinn, whose arms came and wrapped around me. His body shook with sobs and I held him with as much strength as I could. We stayed there all night, beneath that tree, holding each other and crying.
“Yeah?”
“You’re broken.”
There was a long silence, looming over us like a raincloud. Quinn stared at me, his face blank. I thought I’d gone too far but I needed to help Quinn. If I helped him, maybe, just maybe, I could help myself.
“I know.”
Quinn’s voice was clear, loud, and seemed to echo across the empty plains. Sadness didn’t line his face, nor did any other emotion. It was empty, straight and neutral.
“I can fix you,” I whispered.
The laughter that erupted from somewhere inside Quinn was dark and sounded all wrong coming from him. It made me wince. “No one can,” he told me flatly.
“Because you won’t let them,” I said. Quinn stepped closer to me, his eyes blazing like green fire. I didn’t move back.
“No one wants to try,” Quinn said.
“I do.”
He stepped back again, and opened his arms wide. “Go ahead, then, El. Fix me.”
I didn’t like his tone but I moved forward anyway. I placed my hands on his chest, fingers splayed apart. His heartbeat was rapid, horses hooves thundering across a desert.
“You’re sad,” I said, shocking even myself. I could feel his emotions, read the deepest secrets he kept buried so deep down. They were clear and I knew them.
“Nice one,” Quinn said. “You learn that from Victoria?” I swallowed the hurt and glared at Quinn.
“It’s more than just normal sad,” I said, my eyes softening. “It’s deeper, it goes to your very core. It plagues you. This sadness, this hurt, it consumes you. But only when you let it. You’ve beaten the darkness before; you do it often. But it doesn’t leave.” Quinn’s heartbeat started going faster. He looked away.
“It will always be there, Quinn. The darkness, it won’t ever leave. It’s become a part of you. You must accept it.” I looked up from his heart and into his eyes that were boring into my own. “There’s a lot of things you haven’t accepted.”
“Like?” Quinn swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Don’t be afraid to accept them,” I said, reading the fear that filled his body. “Your father dying is because of him. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“It feels like it’s all my fault,” Quinn whispered. His green eyes grew glassy as he fought back the tears.
“It’s not,” I assured him. “Your father did what he did because he chose to. You had nothing to do with that.” I reached deeper. “And me. You haven’t accepted me. Not as a ghost. I am, though, Quinn. I’m not a part of this world any longer.”
“I know,” he said.
“No, you don’t. Quinn, I am here now but I will be gone soon. But I’m in here.” I pressed my hand against his heart. “Forever, I’ll be there. Always.”
And then the connection broke. I collapsed against Quinn, whose arms came and wrapped around me. His body shook with sobs and I held him with as much strength as I could. We stayed there all night, beneath that tree, holding each other and crying.