Sparks of Inspiration

She had to overcome so much fear, so much anxiety to get here. She was tired, hadn’t slept for over a week and the world was becoming just a misty mess, the time was stopping, everything was slow and nothing, absolutely nothing made sense. Yet she came here, she had to. She was looking for a resolution, looking for some way to find her sleep again. Maybe if she saw the ruins and breathed in the ash, maybe if she smelled the burned wood and saw the remnants of her life – and her sanity, it seemed – she’d find peace that would take her to sleep. She was looking for that peace elsewhere, in someone else, but it never fully worked. Even the peace of their bond couldn’t mend something that broken. And at that moment, standing at the very edge of her garden, she felt as though she was willingly breaking herself even more. Everything was gone… There used to be a house, tall and blue with awfully cliché white picket fence covered in red roses. A living room with kitchen so small ...

 Caith found her trembling on the street. Trembling, on a hot summer evening. He didn’t know her that well, it’s only been a few strange meetings, a few instances of him being a patient and her being a healer, and a few bad jokes when they met outside. But she was like him, she was one of them, albeit much younger and, as it seemed, much more lost. He stopped by her and she didn’t even look at him. She kept staring into the distance, somewhere towards the end of the main square. “Hey,” he breathed softly, too afraid to touch her, “are you okay?” Those words made her eyes snap to him. Eyes of the Nephilim couldn’t lie and all he saw in hers was pain. “No,” she replied with a bitter smile, but seemingly couldn’t move. Her hands were still shaking, all her muscles tensed up. “Fine, where do you live?” he asked with a serious face. “The infirmary,” she replied through gritted teeth. Caith frowned. “What, you really live there? I heard people saying it, but,” he joked, she didn’t laugh....

 A little four-year-old girl was happily strolling through the corridor, her eyes occupied with her very new and very shiny accessory. She wasn’t looking where she was going and was stopped only when her head bumped into something soft. She lifted her chin and her big brown eyes found the face of her mother smiling down at her. “You should look where you’re going, honey,” she said softly and the little girl nodded in agreement. Just as her mum was making a step forward, she spoke out. “Mummy! Look!” Her small fingers clutched around black leather around her wrist, the contraption obviously too big for her and she had to hold it on so it wouldn’t simply slide to the floor. Her mother froze in place, her face suddenly too serious and redder by the second. “W-what is that, sweetheart?” “A wing!” “A ring? Oh… a… bracelet…” She didn’t really know what to say. The dark leather cuff must’ve been left on the bed. She wasn’t used to hiding things, but as it seemed she might start doing it. ...