By Her Tears
Disclaimer: I own all in here, please do not steal, or use for RPG
characters without asking first.
Amalie was having her dream again, which meant two things: One, that
her grandmother was going to come and wake her up in about an hour. Two,
that she was back to having the dream after six months of being free of it.
It started the same as always, she was on a hill of tall golden
grasses and she was walking as she touched the tops with her hands, feeling
them bend slightly under the pressure then spring back up as she walked on.
Behind her was a trail of green and flowers and life. She knew she was the
bringer of life in this land, though how she knew she wasn't quite sure.
She hummed a tune as she walked and then she came to the spot that always
made her wish she could wake up that instant.
Down below her it was horrible. Death and destruction reigned as the
people that were still alive groaned in pain and sang their dying laments.
The grasses down there were scorched and burned, as were most of the
people, and they lay there limply, waiting for death to come. Houses were
gone and so was the river that they had been using to put out the fires,
but nothing had worked. Tears streamed down her face and even though her
tears made things grow unnaturally, nothing happened. Whatever, whomever,
had caused this suffering was as strong as she was, if more, and she could
not undo what had happened here.
So she wiped her years away and conjured up a warm smile, and walked
on, but avoided the land that had been burnt and killed. She could not
bring life to that land again, and she would never try. She walked off into
the sunset and vanished over the hill into the horizon.
" Amalie, wake up, dearling." Mama Kat shook her granddaughter
slightly and then stopped, knowing how she hated being shaken at any time.
Amalie stirred long enough to wave a hand out of the covers and shoo
her grandmother away so she wouldn't have to see her tears. Her dream
always made her cry, no matter how happy she had been when she went to
sleep. Plus, she didn't think that Mama Kat would like to know that she
slept naked in the summer heat. Wrapping a sheet around herself, she limped
to the shower and then got dressed and put makeup on, hoping that she
wouldn't sweat it all off today again.
" Hey Amalie!" Someone in a stinted voice called, and she turned
around to see Jason Youn, her best friend of six years since, walking
towards her at the bus stop.
Jason's clothes always brightened her up, no matter what. He was the
school's most flamboyant gay boy, and he wore his title with pride and shot
down challengers fiercely. She loved him. Today his pants were skin tight
and a pleathery kind of material, since he didn't believe in wearing animal
skins, even for shoes. They were the brightest shade of orange she had ever
seen on him, and his dark blue tank top clashed and matched at the same
time. He had his white jean jacket slung over his shoulder and his backpack
on. He was, once again, wearing his runner soled vinyl platform boots,
which were shiny and black and had attracted many an eye. He'd left the
blond streaks in his naturally spiky black hair and streaked red through
it. All in all, he looked fabulous!
" Jason!" Amalie called, pushing back her frizzy blond hair and
greeting him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. " The dream is back."
" I will ask Sensei Maya about it. She'll know." He teased her, poking
her chest and slinging an arm around her shoulder.
Sensei Maya was his grandmother. He'd lived with her all his life,
ever since his mother got deported and then died in Japan of some disease
that Maya had never told him about. Amalie supposed she died of a broken
heart, being away from her family and husband. But Jimmy had died a year
later, when Jason was five. He'd gotten in a car crash and bled to death
while the paramedics treated the other people.
The one thing about Sensei Maya is no matter what your relationship
with her, whether it was good or bad, you always learned something from her
sooner or later. That's why Jason started calling her Sensei for his own
nickname, but everyone had picked it up.
" She knows everything." Amalie agreed as the bus trudged up the lane
and stopped for them. They got on and were on their 10 mile transit to
Amalie watched Jason out of the corner of her eye. He was beautiful to
her, always had been. They had been friends ever since she was 11 and he
was 12. Later, in his eighth grade year, he had proclaimed himself gay and
all her hopes had come crashing down. But she'd stayed with him through the
good and bad and they were all the better for it. She had gotten him
through a few depressions and he had pushed her through a few really bad
breakups, and they just kept going. But now she looked at the guys that he
liked and found herself seriously lacking.
He liked men with fiery personalities; she was kind of a wallflower
and loner. He liked his men taller than him, long dark hair and bright blue
eyes; she had long blond hair, but her eyes were grey and dull. He liked
his cream colored with no blemishes, and she had freckles all over her face
and body. Amalie sighed and sank down in her seat, waiting for the school
stop to come up, even though there was seven more miles to go, which meant
about fourty more stops.
" What's wrong, baby?" Jason asked, breaking off his conversation with
a Rastafarian guy who went to their school and turning to her.
" I keep thinking about Momma.... About how maybe the dream has
something to do with her death and if I could have helped anything or if I
could have stopped the fire at all..." Her eyes teared up and Jason wiped
away the ones that fell, jostled out by the buses motion.
" You couldn't have done anything to stop it. At least you woke up
everyone and got yourself out in time." Jason hummed to her and she fell
into a silent stupor.
When she was 10, there had been a fire in the house that she lived in
with her mother and Mama Kat. She had wanted to make coffee for her mother
when she got up, but got distracted by the television and went into the
living room to watch. The coffee maker was old and there were some wires
poking out of the cord that caught a towel on fire. The kitchen and the
upstairs were blazing before she remembered, and by then it was too late.
Her mother was dead and her grandmother had bad burns on her back and legs,
but had gotten them out safely.
She had met Jason in the graveyard where her mother was buried a year
after that. He was visiting his father's grave, one that had been Amalie's
favorite. It was tall and black marble, with a little boy angel sitting
stop it and extending his hand down to you with his wings out in full glory
with a smile on his face. She had sat under the boy and dreamed up many
tales where he came to life and took her flying to different worlds. That
was how she found Jason, she thought that the angel had come to life for
her. The friend she got out of him was better than the angel, even though
she still loved him too.
" Amalie? Baby?" Jason touched her shoulder, assuming she was asleep.
" I've got something to tell you, but you have to remind me, or I'll
She ignored him and kept her eyes closed, thinking of that angel boy
again, and where he would take her next.