station twenty-one

one. scintilla

ONE

s c i n t i l l a

(n.) a tiny, brilliant flash or spark; a small and barely visible trace

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One moment, there was light. There was laughter in the air, wide smiles stretching across their faces. It was freezing that morning, but in each other's presence, they felt warmth. They dragged their feet through the blanket of pristine white, balls of snow in their woollen grasps. Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they dove into a battle of throwing and dodging icy snow balls on the mountains.

"How are you so bad at this, Kri?" he asked, unable to control his laughter. "You've gotten hit by almost every snow ball I threw at you, and you haven't been able to hit me ev-" and just as he was about to finish his sentence ridiculing the girl's rather poor skills in the game, a snow ball the size of his fist hit him in the face, forcing him to swallow his words back and instead, break into a coughing fit as he desperately spit out the bits of snow that had entered his mouth.

"Sorry, I didn't quite get you there," the girl retorted to her brother's earlier taunts, a huge smile plastered on her face. "I'm winning this round and you're going to have to complete a wish of mine, loser!" she yelled out, reminding him of the promise they had made before the battle. "I'd love to see you try, you brat."

The snowscape was breathtaking, every substance in existence possessed a kind of grace; it was peaceful. The mountains were laced with thick snow, their peaks hidden among clouds. The entire scenic view looked as if it had been stolen from the canvas of a masterpiece and strewn out into reality. The beauty was almost surreal, the kind that words could barely grasp; the beauty that morning was unforgettable for it was the kind that would remain in one's mind even when buried deep in their memories.

Everything was perfect.

In that moment, all else felt insignificant to the joy in their hearts, and if Aryan could, he'd rewind his life to those moments over and over again. He would do anything at all to relive those few minutes in the snow, running around and laughing; to when everything felt so right.

For just as how one moment there was light, darkness soon fell and engulfed the world he once loved. The darkness was ubiquitous and merciless, a void that found its place in his soul. He remembered those moments all too vividly for they haunted his thoughts, and the ghosts of those moments wreaked chaos, relentlessly.

His elbow rammed onto the window sill, pulling him out of his thoughts and into the present. He bit his lip in attempts to suppress the throbbing pain when a soft female voice broke out. "Are you alright?" the person asked, every utterance of those words held so much care and caution in its tone, as if had her voice been any louder, the pain coursing through Aryan would worsen. He opened his eyes to see where the voice came from, and before him in the seat opposite his own sat a girl who looked of a similar age. This girl before him seemed to exude an amalgamation of innocence and grace that he could not quite comprehend; she had burnt sienna eyes and black hair that likened a starless sky and golden skin that made it as if the sun seeped through her pores. He felt that a more fitting word was needed for this very moment in time but no word sufficed, so he settled with a word that was both universal and profound all at once - beautiful. She was simply and utterly beautiful, he thought.

She repeated her question, concern filling her eyes as she had received no answer before. Why is he so quiet, she thought to herself. He could feel his ears heat up, whether from the pain or the shyness he could not tell with certainty. But he slowly let his gaze fix with hers, giving her a small nod. He would have said something, he surely felt as if he should have - but just like in every other instance, his words never left his lips. His words seemed to always wither at the tip of his tongue, an act which he had grown accustomed to over time, one that pushed him deeper into the darkness that enveloped him.