Thursday, 20 November 2014

November 5th

Darkness. There was a lot of brightness. Brightness while there was darkness. Then there was darkness again. Even when there was brightness, the shadow accompanied the yellows and oranges and greens and pinks. A reminder. A reminder of the darkness. A reminder that the brightness really counted. Every single burst of colour should be cherished. Indulged in.

Looking back to November 5th 2010, Annie saw where she went wrong. Before she knew, happiness was taken for granted. When she knew, happiness was a blur of panic; a will to remember everything, enjoy everything; a fear of what was to come. That was what November 5th was. The final bright day.

Two weeks later and the memories that were made were memories of only darkness. A blur of "I'm sorry for your loss" and tears and old photographs.

Old photographs of genuine happiness. Selfish happiness. The kind that wasn't appreciated.

Not like it should have been.

The day of the funeral brought a clear blue sky and a smiling sun. A contradiction Annie should have despised. But she didn't. She saw darkness and she felt darkness but the sunshine was something she knew her mother would have only loved. It didn't bring Annie comfort or joy. It didn't turn on a fairy light in her vision of darkness. But she let her mother have something to glorify and make into something much more than it was.

Like when she was five and Annie was the only child in the class to have ruined the Christmas card she made. When Charlie Dawson reached over to get the glitter, Annie misread the situation and made a sudden movement that lead to glue being spilt all over the fairy she drew on the front.

"It's ruined," Annie had cried into her mother's arms.

"It's modified."

"But I made it for you. The fairy was supposed to be you."

"And do you know what the glue stands for, Annie, baby?"

Annie looked at her mother with hopeful eyes.

"It's for me and you. Stuck like glue."

Annie knew it was actually just an accident and it didn't mean that at all, but she sucked it up like her mother wanted her to. The thing is, the woman believed every word she said.

Two years after her mother's death, Annie stood, on the 5th November, with her head tilted towards the sky. Every piece of darkness was there to glorify the brightness. She knew it now. Maybe she spent the time leading to her mother's death from cancer panicking during happiness, but now, she cherished even these memories, and knew there were smiles and laughs and knew to relax from now on.

Her shoulders smiled and she took photographs of the fireworks with her eyes; her smile telling every wonderful story ever written.

It was all just a reminder of the brightness. A promise of the brightness.



Glitter & Felt,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

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