It's Not Up To You

Our most regrettable moments come at rather unpredictable times, either when in the living room, eyes and lights all ablaze, tongues roaring and mouths spitting out whatever the fire burning in their brain feeds them, or in the little corner between strings of honeysuckle and sweet maple, when the sky presses down on you with humid hands as you blither out whatever little love confession you were holding in for the past month. Afterwards we may pound our heads against the wall or scream out some cries of indignation and exasperation, wishing and begging to only go back a few minutes, a few hours, a couple days, but all these protests are to no avail of course. In the midst of all the panic and confusion and thinking of how to seal up the humiliating gash made, a small curl of your brain lets out this tiny revelation of 'it's like it wasn't me'. It wasn't me squeezing words out, it wasn't me who, with shaking hands and shaking voice, made a clumsy love profession, it wasn't me who'd giggled out that exciting little secret I'd sworn never to speak of to another soul, but seemingly some other body speaking for you, deciding what you'd do and how you'd say it. So a golden rule to remember - from one's sorrow, comes another's joy. And entertainment.

A boy was attempting to peel back the edge of a rusty, chipped locker with a small flimsy note, clearly torn out of some exercise book.

Do I put it in or do I not put it in. Damn it. That's what I get for leaving this till the last moment. Who even writes notes anymore, okay no I'm not doing this.

And just as he was stepping away, his hand jerked forwards and determinedly slipped the note underneath the bottom and inside the locker.

"NO!" The boy shouted and banged the locker door with his hand. "No. No. No, no, no, no, no. WHY. WHY? I thought I decided I wouldn't do that. Why did I do that." He continued to shout. Then he suddenly stared at his hand. His eyes widened and he grabbed it with his other arm and began shaking it. "WHY HAND? Why did you do that to me. I didn't even want to! How does this always happen to me..." He slipped to the ground slowly. Although it's safe to say that not all young lovers who have their eye set on a particular someone resort to love letters, this boy had decided to try and win over a heart the old fashioned way - and was also subject to the ridicule of three rather bored and vain individuals. 

***

"Vanya!"

"What!"

"Why did you do that?!"

"I felt kind of bad for him, oh come on that doesn't happen often let me be."

Nestled up in the den-like structure at the top of a tree, created by thick spindling branches and large mops of juicy green leaf, sat 2 girls, intently staring into a large glass ball. They were both about 4 foot tall, with small pointed ears peeking out from beneath their hair, lashes that curled upwards 5 centimetres and eyes that shifted from jade to cerulean to violet. 

"You're not supposed to feel bad for the guy," Said one, pushing her curly black hair back, "You're supposed to have fun with him."

"Ugh, Aurelia, just because you want every single person we find to either end up dead or without a couple limbs, doesn't mean I'm not having fun, lighten up." Said the other, before reaching for a small pot of squid ink and applying it to her lashes with a twig which had one end made into bristles.

"Well what was the point of making him put the letter in?"

"I wanted to see her reaction! Gosh, Aurelia we need to switch up the love stories once in a while, you always make them keep their feelings to themselves, let them live on in sadness, la la la. It gets boring!"

Aurelia rolled her eyes and cast her glance back to the glass ball. Inside it was the small moving image of the boy, back still pressed against the lockers as he stared at the clock hanging in the hallway. It was through this ball that the small elven creatures spied on humans and, thanks to their remarkable gift of being able to control others' actions, used them for their personal entertainment.

"Anyway," She sighed, "You know my preferences. This story isn't going how I want it to, so he's all yours."

Vanya giggled and tightened the ivy vine holding her hair together before turning back to the ball, her eyes glistening a deep shade of sapphire.

***

A couple hours had gone by and it was close the end of the day - mystery girl still hadn't had the need to open her locker. The sun had lost it's blaze and was giving out feeble bits of light that formed yellowish streaks across the sky. The bell began ringing and floods of students shuffled out into the hall, each plodding over to their lockers; the boy was already at his, glancing nervously over to the side and waiting for something to happen.

She'll like it. Yeah, I mean who doesn't love a nice letter? And, and it was, uh, hand-written, so that always means something, right? Yeah and um, uh the writing was neat, so I suppose that's a plus. Okay who even cares, it doesn't matter if she doesn't like it because I didn't write my- shit I wrote my name. Did I write my name? No I didn't, or did I?! He fumbled with his books and tried to shove his head as far into the locker as he could.

***

"AHAHAH, Aurelia get over here! I can't deal with this kid. Aurelia!" She spun round impatiently. "Did you not hear me?!"

Aurelia was leaning against the tree trunk, molding a dry leaf into different figurines .

"No. I'm trying to make it into a girl." She gestured at the leaf that was floating above her knees.

"Ugh. When is Odella getting here anyway?"

"Odella doesn't do love stories," Vanya said, smirking. "She prefers arguments, or something else of the loud kind. Looks like you're stuck with your little love boy yourself."

Vanya rolled her eyes and and focused on the boy again. "Fine then." She muttered to herself. The girl had now arrived, opened the locker and was zipping her bag, completely missing the note which had slipped onto the floor. "She hasn't even noticed it! Ugh, okay, let's make you do something interesting then."

She moved her hands to either side of the ball and stared at the boy, her lashes shielding her eyes as small yellow-blue flames began to glow in the centres of her palms.

"Let's have you...confess your love. Publicly." The flames grew larger and suddenly the boy stood up and ran towards the stairs that led up to the second floor.

I gotta make her notice me. She'll like me if she sees that I'm-I'm bold an- and confident. She didn't even see the letter. Yeah. Big. Bold. Wait where am I running. What the hell am I doing? Oh lo-

"EXCUSE ME EVERYONE." He shouted, swinging himself onto the second step. "SORRY, EXCUSE ME, EXCUSE ME."

The hallway slowly quietened as everyone stopped in confusion to stare at the screaming boy on the steps. Some immediately whipped out their phones whilst few shook their heads and headed out the doors to go home.

"I, UM, I, I wanted to, to say that, uh, Lola," He stuttered, pointing at a brown-haired girl that was heading towards the exit. "Is- uh - I, uh, really like her." His mouth suddenly began speaking for him. "Uh, Lola, I really like you, and I watch you when you're in maths answering questions, and you seem so smart and educated. I watch you in english when you're moving your pen across paper and ink comes flooding out in curls and speak of Shakespeare and Austen and Brontë. I watch you science when you so easily understand the rules of atoms and formulas and experiments. I-" Laughter erupted throughout the hallway - everyone was pointing at the boy and Lola, filming them and chanting for a kiss. Lola glanced at him, still standing on the steps, hands falling to his sides, and ran out the doors, her hand brushing across her face as tears began to form.

Damn it. Oh my god. What I have done. She's already shy - and bullied. Oh god what have I done. What have I done.

He dashed out of the school, forcing past the masses of bodies all leaning in to grab a hold of 'lover boy'. He pushed open the doors and ran out into the courtyard, frantically searching for Lola, but she had already ran off somewhere, somewhere away from him.

"See! You should've listened to me Vanya."

Both girls were now sitting near the ball. Aurelia smoothed out her leafy skirt and twined another flower stem into her hair. "They always end this way, unrequited love will always prevail. And it's entertaining."

"Ugh. Happens all over again every single time. I wanted it to be funny! But, of course, ends up the same way: one of them embarrasses the other, they run away and are scarred forever, never end up together, la la la. Always. The. Same."

Vanya sighed in annoyance and slumped back against the tree trunk.

"I mean, at least they're laughing at him. That's pretty fun. Ugh, and to think that we were given these powers to help people out with difficult decisions for their benefit. This is so much more entertaining. Maybe they'll even have an argument later on. She might scream at him." Aurelia leaned back in contentment and stared at the ball. "Love always ends the same way. let's find an older guy tomorrow, mid-twenties maybe?"

"Eh, why not. We can give it a go. Where's Odella anyway?'

***

The moments where we do something rash and unpredictable, and clutch our faces and wring our hands, when our minds tangle us into a mess that we think is caused of our own accord, it isn't. Because all things happen for a reason - sometimes it's just not the one we thought it would be. And a golden rule to remember - from one's sorrow, comes another's joy. And entertainment.