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Contemporary Fiction

It seems almost cruel that today will be the day that the bargain expires. It feels like a dark joke that hits too close to be funny. Perhaps the spirit, or demon, wanted it to be this way. Maybe making our last day the longest of the year was part of the fun, the game. 

We know it satisfies him to see us cling to life today, but we do it anyway. We wake up at sunrise knowing it’ll be our last one, perch ourselves on the balconies railing. We grip hands as that disc of life slides into the air, dowsing everything in its path with glittering beauty. The flowers sing with rejuvenation, the sea green grass turns jade. I wait for the blanket of beauty to lay around me as well. For the pink dye in my hair to sing. For the daisy white of my skin to turn ivory. It doesn’t. I remain as dull as always, although the girl beside me would say radiant. No one had called me radiant before. She is radiant. She is the one with rich brown skin and shiny black curls that puff away from her face and gently skim her shoulders. She is the one with sunlight trapped beneath her skin, shining through on the darkest of nights. Eyes only turn to me because I stand next to her. She is open laughs and sunshine while I am shy smiles and the moon's glow. 

The night of the deal comes back to me suddenly. The memory is like a veil over my eyes. Gone is the beauty, replaced by moonlight peeking through the temple's window. His voice is in my ears, cold as night and as deep as the ocean. 

1 month for 3 years?  What will you give me in return, darling? Surely you don’t expect this favor free of cost. 

I had been dizzy with the hope that I could save her, so I had gasped that I would give anything. 

Anything? That is an intriguing promise. One of his dark eyebrows inched up. Fine. At the sunset marking 3 years both of your souls will be mine. Her cancer will leave the second the deal is set, and you will not be able to die before then. Fair enough?

I had thought myself lucky, there are worse things to ask for after all. I said nothing, just stuck my hand out. 

I should've known from his smile, wicked and proud, that I could’ve asked for more time. That he would’ve negotiated. His hand clasped mine, it was colder than his voice, before he threw out one word. Done

She had raged when I returned, her face twisted in a way I had never seen before. How could you? You have so much more to see, to live! I’m not worth this much! 

I had screamed back that she was, that I wasn’t ready for her to leave me. She had taken both my hands, pulled me to her, rested her forehead against mine. She was crying; I probably was too. We stood for hours like that, sock covered toes almost touching, taking in the bargain I made.

He kept his word, though, the cancer left her like a friend after betrayal. Her doctor couldn’t understand what happened. Had told her how lucky she was to receive such a miracle. She had forced a smile, but I knew she was already counting down days. 

She nudges me as if to knock the veil away. It works. The sunset has ended, the day now fully upon us. We had planned this day for months. Had decided all the things we would save for today, for the 12 hours ahead of us. We swing our legs over the balconies railing. She’s a couple inches shorter than me. It always makes me feel like a giant, except when she rises to her toes because apparently she envies my height. 

The first thing to do today is getting donuts from our favorite shop, but now that the time has come I don’t want to. I tell her as much. She pushes onto her toes, throws an arm around my shoulders, and exclaims that she was thinking the same thing. 

We pad into the living room, her still on the balls of her feet, and chat about meaningless things. Anything but what we know is coming. The sunlight under her skin gets brighter. A telltale sign she’s about to do something spectacular. She spins her way to the radio, as graceful as the best of ballerinas, and switches it on. The first beat has barely played before she announces, this is my song! It’s perfect and definitely isn’t her song, but I don’t argue when she pulls me into a clumsy dance. We laugh and dance and for that minute the world is ours. Then the song ends only to be replaced by Senorita. She rushes to shut the radio off, her exaggerated gag pulls another giggle from me. 

The rest of the day is more of the same. Some of our plans we manage, like eating at a 2 time Michelin star restaurant for lunch. And dinner. It nearly drained our bank accounts, but that doesn’t matter. The food was miraculous, so we went back for a second meal. Other ideas were abandoned in our memory, like a walk in the park. We had done that nearly everyday for 3 years. 

Now we are sprawled out on the carpeted floor of our bedroom. Her head is on my stomach, my hand is in her curls, they’re rough against my smooth knuckles. We talk about everything and nothing. We lay in silence. We tease each other. She says that word again, the one that no one associates with me, radiant. I sit up suddenly. Her head falls to the ground. She shoves an elbow on the carpet to prop herself up before I ask her what makes her think I’m so radiant. She grins and tells me I’m fishing, but studies my face dutifully anyway.

My hair, she says. How smooth and straight and long it is. My height. My style. My smile. My freckles. The paleness of my skin. How I rub my bottom lip when I read. How I love mainstream music but won’t admit it. How I can scrub a brush on canvas and suddenly there’s a masterpiece. She’s whispering now. Tears are rolling down her domed cheeks. She’s not ready, she says. She’s not ready to leave. She wants forever with me. I’m agreeing with her while darkness is coating the house, the candles strewn haphazardly on the windowsill are not enough to keep it out. 

We meet eyes, realising what the darkness means. We rush onto the lawn, hand in hand. The disk of light and life and beauty is slipping down, down, down, below the horizon. A strangled sound escapes her, and now her arms are around me and she’s holding on for dear life. She’s sobbing into my shoulder and her curls are somehow damp. They’re damp from my tears, I realize. We’re saying I love you, and clinging to each other. I’m saying sorry, but she’s telling me not to be. The light leaves, the sun slips, and so does she. I feel the exact moment her grip is stolen away. We drop to the ground in sync, bodies hitting the turbulent earth. I hear a cold and deep voice chuckle, amused, before it’s all gone.

June 25, 2021 21:48

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