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Neopia's Fill in the Blank News Source | 19th day of Relaxing, Yr 15
The Neopian Times Week 142 > Short Stories > Sweet Summer

Sweet Summer

by wolfofthewoods

The sun’s rays are no longer of the brilliant, heart-lifting glory of days passed. As the weak light caresses my figure, I watch the great inferno of crimson flames sink into the endless ocean; my vision blurred by salt-ridden tears. I close my lids against the lake of grief, memories whirring in my thoughts—painful, joyous—a myriad of emotion.

     Your silky voice fills my mind; your soft lips; your incredible, crystal-blue eyes… Oh, those amazing eyes. The spell they set upon my soul and body. Oh, Coltzan… That hair. Those gorgeous, glossy, red locks… And your wings. The flame-licked, intricate, fragile beauties. They fluttered softly in the wind, and seemed to wilt in your moments of sorrow.

      My maw damp with tears, I straighten my back slightly, blinking. I mustn’t let this ruin me. Your friendship is—no, I correct myself, was—my life. My entire being was formed by the intricate threads of your personality; your laughter, stubbornness, needs… You.

      But I must move on, right? I have to leave you to the demons of the past, don’t I? Oh, Fyora, tell me I don’t need to… I want to crawl under my duvet with a flashlight, and pore over your letters for the many remaining years of my soul’s presence in Neopia. I can’t just let my memories recede into bitter darkness, can I?  

      I push myself from the log of drift wood, clutching my knees in the sun-drenched sand. My throat is tight with mourning as I remember your departing words… The phrases that made my heart shatter and moan.

      “Pillgrimme…” You took my paws in your childlike hands, stroking them gently. Your ginger hair fell as a veil, sheltering your visage. “Oh, Pillgrimme, I…” My spirit gave a scared shudder—what were you trying to say? Oh, dear Fyora, tell me she’s not saying… but you were. You were telling me exactly what I prayed I’d never hear.

     “Summer…” my voice quivered; no, please, no… “Summer, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” You lifted your chin, sapphire spheres brimming with crystal tears. I unconsciously raised a paw to your chin, brushing back your silken tresses. You shook your head, perfect, rosy lips pursed—shaking with sobs.

      “I can’t… stay,” you murmured, face descending again to stare at the smooth beach. “I’m a Faerie, Pillgrimme. I can’t stay on the ground… I’m… I…” You struggled, words stitched with tear-laden sniffles. “I’m…” I felt your slender arms about my neck, in a tight embrace. My paw stroked your hair… For the final time. “Goodbye, you incredible Lupe. You’ll always be part of me, Pillgrimme. My thoughts, my soul, my heart… You won’t forget me, will you? You’ll remember the times we spent together? The long hours swimming, walking, laughing, crying? You… You’ll never leave my mind.” And with a last, melancholy laugh… you strode away. Your glorious, fiery wings extending upwards as you neared the shore. I couldn’t bear to look on as you took to the air—couldn’t meet your mournful gaze as you let your eyes fall upon me, never to do so once more.

     And now I lie on the very sand where you stood for the last time. The frigid sea licks my body, merges with my tears. A hoary moon stares down on me without sympathy. And, in the depth of the night, my consciousness finally ebbs—the world holds a dreamlike quality as my thoughts wander.

     You, Summer, you’ve departed. Not solely from Mystery Island, but from my life. My being feels lacking in meaning, now that you’re gone. But I have got to stand strong. I need to move on. You’ve taught me so much, Summer. That loved ones in your existence come and go—but the love that they felt for you is forever present. You’re never really alone, are you? There are always caring people there, to look out for you. You don’t need to be with someone all the time physically, for always, always, their hearts will reach out to yours in a bond of pure light—strong and ever at hand. Just know this. Everyone needs to learn it. Your love will indeed be torn to pieces, but you can go on. You can live without it. Because your being is filled with love. You are love.

     Barely conscious, I feel myself grope up from the sodden sand, from where the tide has now descended. Gooseflesh prickling my body, I pad exhaustedly towards the quaint Neohome in which I reside. With my family. My Owner, my siblings… And suddenly, my mind is wakened, and a surge of love towards these oh-so-different, incredible Neopians swells in my chest. They care about—and for—me. They need me, and I need them.

     I break into a run, hind paws smacking the soft, dirt path. I have an unbelievable desire to be at home, in the affectionate embrace of my relations. Oh, if only the house were closer… And then I’m there. Standing, stationary, before a quaint structure. The roof is thatched, the walls quite unclean and tawdry… And it’s the only place I want to be. It's the only place that my heart longs to reside.

     I fling the door ajar, and hurtle into my sister—who, in turn, lets a scream ripple from her muzzle. The hilarity of this hits me in a bounding river of sniggers; she gives me a look of utter perplexity as I wrap my charcoal-furred arms about her startled form. This is where I’m meant to be. As my Owner rushes in, an utterly alarmed expression plastered on her moony visage, I know that I’m surrounded by love and remarkable people. There’s no one else that I’d rather be with. I'm home, and family love encompasses my being.

     Summer… there are no words for how I wish I could thank you. You’ve made me realize something very incredible—something that will last for eternity and afar. Your love has brought to me the acknowledgement of love as not simply something you'll discover in Faerie Tales. I love you, and always will. While you’re not here physically, your affection surrounds me. You’ve granted me something I thought I’d never have: a passion for life. My greatest objective is to make sure that every single Neopian knows they’re loved. Can you do this for me, Summer? Can you reveal to the world of Neopia that there’s more to life, than items and figures? For one thing never dies—it stands, perpetually smoldering, a flame that ever flickers joyously. It dances on, unable to be tarnished. Love.

     Thank you, Summer. Fare thee well.

The End

Author’s Note: Thanks so much for reading. As always—hatemail, constructive criticism, and fanmail are ever encouraged and desired.

Some of you may have noticed my lack of presence in the Neopian Times, and the fact that I announced my "retirement." Well, I guess all I can say is that I'm a little too young to call it quits. ^_~ Go ahead and scorn my loss of inspiration-- all that matters is that I'm back, and it feels exactly how everything should. Neopia, I'm home.

Of course, I'd like to wish the wonderful, amazingly talented and kind editor a very happy (albeit belated) birthday. 'Hope it was a perfect day, Felicia. ^_^

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