To Build a Nest

And what's more calming than the gentle spring breeze caressing your face while the sun rays leave small kissess all over your skin before bidding goodbye, leaving the moon to comfort you for every hardship that you went through the day. It would definitely be my favourite fragment today if it wasn't for the small chiwawa constantly barking at me for the past 5 minutes, the taunts of its owner adding to the delightful  music to my ears.

“Screw you,” I scowled. “You illegitimate child of a dog and rat! You're ruining my tranquility!”

As a cue, the owner tugged a bit harshly to the leash. “There's nothing there ,Coco! Will you stop?” She scolded dragging the irritating dog away with her, a content look appearing on my face as I now get to truly enjoy my time.

Sipping of some kind of soda which I can only closely describe as rose flavoured popping candy, I hum in satisfaction at the taste of the new drink which I bought with the very last penny of my paycheck. It's sweet and refreshing, exactly what I need after a long day of completely messing and failing my mission. Closing my eyes, I leaned back, letting the old oak tree support my body.

In the distance I can hear mothers calling out to their kids that it's time to get back home. Loud honkings pierce through the silence as more and more people try to get to their homes after a long day of work. Families or pets probably waiting for their arrival. As much as it irritates me, I have to admit that it's also what I find comfort in. A love-hate relationship, I must say.

It takes a couple of hours for the quietness to regain its authority over the little vociferus beings, but once it does, you suddenly become more aware and apprenhensive of your sourroundings.

“The night belongs to the strangers.” It's always what my grandma used to tell me when I was a child whenever I complained about not being allowed to go play outside once the stars started to twinkle in the sky.

And looking back at it, I can understand why she said that. Dark figures show up one by one ,feeling more assured knowing that the dark sky provides shelter for their wrong doings. Some of them look forward to get a little boost of energy from a poor salaryman coming late from work, while some just want to mess around with teens who snuck out to meet their friends or go to a club. The night belongs to strangers, absolutely. But, humans refuse to accept that they're not always the ones in power, even in their own territory.

“‘Rest in peace, ' my foot,” I sigh. “I haven't had a single moment of peace since the very second that I died! First I get ripped away form the life I was used to, then I'm told that I have no choice but to work my bum out until eternity!” I rant to one one in particular. The afterlife is quite stressful, and nothing what I imagined to be. It's not too different form the human ruling system. Only thing is that our works consist of looking after humans and their life occurrences which they're so fascinated from, finding soulmates, karmic debts, spiritual awakenings and so on.Things that, unlike popular belief, cannot happen on their own.

But if this is put above the shoulders of someone who's not so passionante about, with the only push being a reward similar to money…yeah…it's not going to be good.

That's why I'm over here ruining cute little relationships left and right, trying to do something decent but never really putting that much effort in it.

If one day death comes knocking to your door and you still haven't found your lifetime partner, it's probably because one of us weavers slacked off of work. But don't be salty about it, same thing happend to me, and you bet that once I found the lad who didn't put much effort into my love life, I made him wish for yet another death of his. But as the saying goes,”You either die a hero or live long enough to be the villain”. I am no better than than the ones I hate.

I look at the glass bottle. Already empty. Burping, I pat my bloated stomach and smash the bottle by throwing it on the concrete pathway. The broken pieces wobble, their sharp edges twisting and turning before disintegrating into small particles, getting swept away from the breeze which decided to slowly turn into wind.

It's moments like these where I become more appreciative of what's around me, I would appreciate it even more if it were to last longer, though.

“Tie twister.” A booming voice remarks out of nowhere. The husky, intimidating voice made my back automatically straighten. My mind which kept wandering from one thought to another now being fully alert.

Taking into consideration the fact that my presence was acknowledged by another being, means that they're not human and if there's something that I've learend by this damned world, is that if you show fear, you're swept under the rug.

“Actually, 'weaver' sounds way cooler than 'tie twister', so I would prefer to be called like that instead.” I cheekily reply turning my head towards the voice, just to be met with a face that didn't show any amusement by what I said. “Of course,” I murmur.

In front of me stands a tall man. Brown eyes, dark hair, sharp jawline and a visibly well scultpted body under his business attire.

Dear heaven!  Quite handsome if I do say so myself. And judging by the gillius stones adoring his fingers that can only be found in the Land of Nowhere , he must be filthy rich.

“Don't care!” He lazily spits, making all that beauty of his go to waste. Asshat.

Throwing a bag towards me, I flinch at the sudden gesture, opening my hands to recive it regardless. Giving him a small frown, I look down to the bag and open it, the sight of at least 70 gillius stones inside of it making my eyes light up. 'Holy-'

Just for reference, 2 gillius stones are enough to buy a whole mansion in a rich neighbourhood here on earth.

“What is this for-“

“I'm bribing you.” He stated, cockiness seeping from his voice.

To be frank, I would never let this attitude slide past me, but the amount of money that is currently being held under my possesion is making me more tolerant than I usually am.

I shut my mouth and hold eye contact with him, indicating to further explain. Silence swirls yet again between us, but this time it doesn't hold any of the peacefulness as before.

“I need you to cut the string of a couple…” He kept his answer short, his voice monotous.

Processing his request which more sounded like a demand, my mouth hung open. There's no way in hell-

“Your pay is mediocre for the job that you do…not that you're doing much for it anyway,” He murmured.

“I heard that!”

“So acting like a saint and refuse this fortune won't be a response that I accept, or event excpect if I have to be realistic.” He continued pinching the bridge of his nose.

As his arm went up, I noticed the button on the arm cuff. A button that can be easily recognised by everyone in our terrene. A higher up.

No.

THE highest. The one and only who's able to make negotiations between our world and the others.

But the fact that works are divided by someone greater than him, who's identity is unknown, doesn't allow him to hinder in what's not supposed to be under his care.

Something that we all have in common is that in our past lifes, we all were humans here on earth. So connecting the dots, something has definitely gone wrong when he was alive.

Gulping down my anxiousness, I think of some sort of answer but all that comes into my mind is a response that a lot of people would label as immoral. The feelings that I experience are still human,afterall. I'm quite greedy too, so my needs are a great match to his.

Fidgeting with the strings of the bag was all my body could do, giving a verbal respose, not so much.

His lips stretch into a satisfied smile, understanding my answer which was delivered with no words.

“Perfect,” He claps his hands only once. “ This is all that you'll need.” He threw a pair of rusted scissors to my side. Taking a good look at the details, my eyes doubled in size.

“How did you even get those?!” I gasped, shifting the bag into one hand and grabbing the scissors with the other. The scissors that belonged to the mother of all sins.

This means that I wasn't the only one joining the game.

Other people had accepted the bribe or some sort of other offering. The light had already gathered a lot of moths around it.

“You know what to do with it. right?” He sweetly asked, but you could tell just how bitter the feelings were behind it.

Composing myself, I gave a firm nod.

By now I can feel the summer breeze. It's one of those nights where you can just feel the water evaporating from the ground, making your skin feel damp and sticky, wanting nothing but to scrub yourself clean from the uncomfortable feeling.

And for once, I am walking along the same creatures which I used to look at with disgust. The thought of not being any greater than what I despised vexing me even more about what I was about to do.

The little girl whom I used to be, has now turned into what others would warn her about.

Ah, the irony.

I fidget with the small scissors inside my coat, making sure that other self-indulgent entities won't get in my way to then waltz around holding what was supposed to be now laying in a high security facility.

A sweet, powdery smell fills my nose making my head snap to my side, instantly recognising the girl I had business with. Short, dark hair framed her fair skin. She was quite tall too, but the clothing style that she choosed complimented her figure well. It wouldn't be shocking if she were to be a model. She was visually beautiful. But the stench of her aura easily overpowered the fragrance of her perfume, snapping my mind back to its place.

My eyes drift to her side, her guardian being stultified by his repetitive routine around the girl. His negligence showed even more when he also looked at me, giving a nod before dissapearing in a blink.

He had accepted the bribe.

And so did I.

We both looked forward to make our cage feel like a nest.

After hanging up on the phone,she sits down on one of the many benches in the park. Oblivious to the fact that the smoke coming from her cigarette ushered the malice spirits away.

Just like a kid holds its breath when nearing a butterfly, the stars also stopped twinkling. The moon hid behind the clouds, it didn't want to be a witness to such an ominous act. The clouds themselves begged for the wind to be harsher, so that they could flee from the place where a trangression was about to be planted in its land.

The only one who didn't want to run away was me. Accepting the bribe meant that there was no turning back even if I wanted to. The dark energy that she held eased off my doubts.

“Her soul isn't pure anyway.”- Yeah, everything to make myself feel better.

I pull my hand out of the pocket. The smell of rust coming from the scissors being a reminder of the day that I died.

Cicadas keep on singing to their heart's content, their chorusing mixing in with the soft rustling of the tall, unkept grass on the sides of the gravel path.

The faint line of a red string can be seen only from the eyes of those who are like me. It is tied around her pinky finger and it stretches beyond the horizon, somewhere we cannot see, somewhere I was supposed to lead her to.

The kid is nearing the butterfly. They tell themselves to not make a single sound, the butterfly will fly away if they do. Leisurely, their arms move up, fingers closing in to form a cage.

The butterfly, who was relishing on the sweet flower nectar feels a gust of wind going past both its sides, but before it can do anything, the flower can't be seen due to thick bars blocking the view.

The kid opens his hands again, the capture was only for pure entertainement.

The butterfly is free to go.

And so it does, it flies away .Unaware that the colors of its wings have stained the hands of the youngster, who just brushes them away by wiping the hands on the dark shirt.

The butterfly has always been told that they are the most beautiful being known to mankind, that's why it often gets chased around.

The butterfly does not understand why till the last day she sat on a flower, no one ever approached her.

The kid, on the other side, ran towards the group of freinds, confessing about what was done. Their bragging provided reassurance.

They look back at the hands, they're not stained anymore. The shirt is. But that's okay, shirts are meant to be relinquished when your grow up.

Or be gifted.