Above clouds (Short stories)

Just read and remember

The night is an ocean~WinterAid

She felt weird. Not herself. Something inside of her ached for more. She was flustered deep in thought. But what was she thinking about, she had no idea. Her only goal was to understand and detect and eliminate this feeling. She was confused. There was only one thing to do when she was confused: her private library.

Walking down the corridor of the first floor she wasn't paying attention to her direction. Her feet knew the way by heart, no need for the mind. However, instead of resting, it kept wandering around jumping from one problem to the other. She took a breath, shaky but deep and closed her eyes for a second.

She pushed in the door at the end of the hallway, entering her world of peace and prosperity. Her safe haven. She did feel more relaxed but something was still tugging at the back of her mind. She turned to the shelf in the righthand corner: the glass protecting it's inside was covered in a thick layer of dust. There was a small lock, barely visible to those who didn't know where to search for it, but it was there. She pulled out the key hanging from a small golden chain around her neck and with a delicate movement placed it in the hole. She turned it to the right and with a tiny click the glass opened up. She peered inside and started reading the spines of the books. Although many of them were extremely old, the books nearly falling apart, there were some a little younger. Softly mumbling as she read the titles:

'Flying a kite with Daddy'

'Baking with Mommy'

'My first steps'

or

'First day at school'

But then, her eyes stopped on one of the books: 'Alexander'

The name was familiar, however it felt odd saying it out loud. As if she was supposed to know the barer of the name but no matter how hard she tried to grasp at the memory she couldn't catch it. Well, after all that's why she had that book. Should she take the risk? She was extremely curious now her heart aching for an explanation.

She slowly took the book holding it her hands. It was quite small the whole book easily fitting into one of her palms. The golden symbols decorating the front cover had her mesmerized. She stood there for a couple of minutes just taking in the beauty of it all. Then deciding it was time she cracked the book open reading the first couple of lines. Immediately she felt a strong force pull her into the book. Instead of resisting it she gave into the power and soon she was enveloped by the book. And the memory it held within.

She was sitting on a small stool in a kitchen. Not just a kitchen but their kitchen. Where she and Mummy spent hours cooking or just talking. But this time it was someone else she was looking at. A small boy around the age of 11 with big blue eyes full of purity, curly black hair falling over his forehead. He was squinting a little because of the sun shining into the room painting it and everything in it golden. It was like the setting sun trapped inside a tiny kitchen. Beautiful.

'Amy!' he shook the girl awake from her daydreaming. 'You said you will tell me all about Daddy before he left for the war' he clasped his bony fingers around her hand squeezing it hard, trying to signal for her to start the story. He was eager to know more about the father he never got to meet and probably never will. At least not the same person.

She lifted the boy from the ground placing him into her lap and caressing the dark locks of hair that framed his sun-kissed face.

' It was a long time ago that Daddy was a child...' Just in the first couple of minutes of her starting to bring back memories to share, the little boy was already asleep in her arms, mouth hanging open, his chest softly rising everytime he inhaled he was at peace. And that peace fell over onto the girl aswell letting content and gratitude wash over her. She breathed in deeply. Oh how much she loved him. From the bottom of her heart.

She was in a dark room in the middle with a bed. He was in it. Laying there, cold as ice but ever so cheerful. Cold as a midnight winter storm but only letting the warmth of the sun radiate from inside of him. He was too pure, too young, too innocent, too kind, too loving, too loved. Amy was sure this is not how it should have happened. He whispered her name barely noticeable. Walking up to him she tried to hold back the tears. Biting on her lip she smiled. He really was brave.

He grasped the hem of her skirt. Not aggressively just trying to find contact between the two of them. He had no energy for more.

'Please promise me you will keep on fighting. For Dad, for Harry, for Mum, for me...' he said whispering.

Unable to keep it in anymore: a tear rolled down her rosy cheeks falling onto the bedsheet.

'I will Brother.'

She woke up, holding ashes in her palm. She read the book however she couldn't remember anything about it. What it was about or how she felt reading it. It was all lost. Just like the previous ones. Lost in the wind. With the memory. Gone.

Forever.