Tomorrow Will Be Kinder (Watty Awards 2012)

IV: Ablaze

LUKE’S POV

I watch her run away, thin legs pushing to gain speed with all their might as her nearly bare feet try to sink into the pavement. 

I try to stop her. Honestly, I do. I call out, I yell, I even follow her, but to no avail. The girl has lived here much longer than I have. Her memories are more fresh, mental map of the town more distinct. She is able to sprint off into the darkness and leave me in the dust. 

The rain is still pouring down. Thunder crackles through the night sky, so loud that I can barely hear myself think. If I squint into the distance, I can pretend to see her small figure, walking aimlessly along the road, but I know deep down it's just my eyes playing tricks on me. 

However, I know that I would do anything to see Maysilee again. 

There was just something about her. I'm not sure what - whether it is the way she smiles, or the way her purple eyes sparkle in the lightning's flash. In any case, I am very attracted to her. 

I close my eyes briefly and take a deep breath. Slow down, Luke, I remind myself. Remember the last time you thought that had happened. 

I'm not like other people. See, that's one difference right there. I can admit that I'm different from others. I can admit that the way I act does not mirror those of other people in this world. 

I am able to say things the way they are. I'm not blunt - I do know when to take things gently, ease into a topic - but I can tell myself a fact about something, and believe it, even if I don't want to. I'm not sure why - maybe it's my personality, or perhaps I am just able to accept when something has happened. 

Either way, it is clear that I am falling. 

I can hear what you are thinking. Luke, you're so stupid. Luke, you're so näive and foolish. You can't fall in love with someone after only meeting them for five minutes. Get a grip on life. 

Well actually, I can. 

My mum and dad were called Sally and Nick. They met when they were both eighteen years old, going to the same university in the Melbourne CBD. 

They recounted the story hundreds of times to me as a child. Their fairytale lives, complete with the love at first sight, marriage and child. It was them who had such a big influence on my beliefs and ideals. Tens of hundreds of people have scorned me because of my seemingly feminine blind trust in true love. 

But I know it’s real. 

Smiling, I walk down the main road, following the path that Maisie took. 

I know it exists. 

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ 

"It is not!" I cried out, pointing my finger at my father. 

"It is too!" he retorted, waving his hands at the coffee table where the scrabble game was situated. 

"No. No way. Amazeballs is not a word." 

"Uh, I think you'll find that it is," Dad sat back on the couch. "God knows all you twelve-year-olds say  it enough." 

"Mu-um!" I cried again. 

"Mu-um!" Dad imitated me. I poked my tongue out and he grinned.

“Now boys, don’t argue,” my mother walked into the room, holding a big bowl of strawberries. “How about a snack?”

“Yes please!” Dad and I chorused, grinning as Mum began walking over to place the bowl on the coffee table. 

Suddenly, something went wrong.