tell_me_why (tell_me_why) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-04-16 20:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, #solo |
You took a swing, I took it hard
Who: Ramiel and Rebekah (NPC)
Where: On the edge of a cliff, Scotland
When: Autumn, 1876
The cliff edge was much scarier when you were sat right on top of it, little stick legs swinging over the edge of oblivion. Rami had her lips pursed tight shut, as though the ground would give way beneath her if even a breath escaped from between them. She didn’t like it up here. She preferred seeing the world from her height, her perspective. Not so high up. People weren’t supposed to be able to see so much of the world at one time. The ocean was too big to be seen at once. Especially with eyes as little as a five year old's. They’d pop out if they saw anything more at once.
Scrunching up her nose at the bitter scent of sea salt, Rami turned to look over her shoulder at Bekah, who was gathering stones in the pocket she had made from the front of her skirts. A gust of wind messed itself up in her hair, and the soft, brown strands were sent dancing into the air, some clinging to her face, clearly as terrified of the altitude as she was. Her vision obscured, she momentarily considered unlatching the fingers of one of her hands from the cliff edge long enough to push the hair from her face. She turned back to the edge to stare at her hands. They were blue, almost grey, with the cold and white from the strength she was using to keep hold on. Then she peered carefully over her knees again. No. No. Seeing wasn’t worth it. Instead, stomach churning, she called her sister’s name over her shoulder. When there was no answer she called again, a panicked whine weaving its way into her timid words.
“What are you moaning for?” a voice replied suddenly. The proximity of it made Rami start, but the sheer terror from the height of her position meant that the start didn’t manifest itself as a jump, just a sudden increase in the pace of her heartbeat. She sniffed. “Just wondering where you were.” Though she couldn’t see her twin, she knew she was raising an eyebrow at her. Bekah was never sympathetic.
A moment later, the other twin was settled next to her sister. She was not attached to the cliff by a death grip. She just seemed to sit there, entirely unperturbed by the treacherous nature of their chosen seats. Rami watched as Bekah emptied the stones from her skirts and brushed them into a little pile between them. She had a curious look on her face, Rami thought, somewhere between angry and thoughtful. It was unsettling, stirred an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. Distracted by another bout of cruel curiosity, Rami once again glanced out across the sea. By the time she had thrown her gaze back in familiar horror, the look on Bekah’s face had gone. It had been so subtle and so fleeting, she wondered whether it had just been imaginary, induced by her fear. Now Bekah had returned her attention to her sister, a wry smile playing in her features.
“See this?” she asked, holding up a stone. It was small and warped and ugly. Rami nodded. “This won’t fly.” Not taking her eyes of her sister, Bekah launched the stone off the cliff. Rami followed it for as long as she could, until she grew dizzy from squinting to keep up with it. It disappeared from view quickly. She looked back to Bekah, not quite understanding the point of the conversation. Bekah selected another stone. “And this one? This won’t fly either.” Again she threw the stone. Rami imagined it screaming as it fell, helpless to the will of the angel who had tossed it. A shudder tore down her spine. Bekah threw another stone, and then another, and then another. After she had gone through eight - her eyes never leaving Rami - she picked the remaining stones up in her two hands and dropped them carelessly over the edge. She watched them fall this time, contentment colouring her face. Then her eyes flickered back to Rami.
“Stones don’t fly,” she reminded. Rami mumbled the same words with growing anxiety. A smile appeared in Bekah’s eyes. “Stones don’t fly,” she said again, “We? We do.”
Rami felt the hands on her before she saw them move. Bekah shoved her suddenly and viciously towards the edge of the cliff. The screamed that erupted from Rami was lost instantly as the wind once again stirred, as if it was rising to greet her in order to help her along to her death. It took what seemed like an eternity for Rami to realise she wasn’t falling. Nor was she flying. She peeled open her eyes to see the waves crashing on the jagged rock face below, turned her head to see Bekah’s hands locked tightly on her shoulders. Her sister was giggling uncontrollably as she pulled her back up to safety, and continued to as she stood, brushed herself down and began to trot off back home.
Ramiel was frozen, trapped staring after the girl who had just nearly pushed her off a cliff. Then she shook herself, remembering where she was, and scrabbled away from the precarious edge of the abyss. Her mind was a mess of incoherent thoughts and worries and fears for the rest of that day. Next time there might not have been a set of hands to stop the fall.