The Ashes Danced

I didn't mean to kill her.

I kept telling myself it was just a freak accident, both Olive and I knew it wasn't. The only problem was Olive was six feet under. 

The air turned black around me. 

Icy fingers gripped at me in the darkness, fishing for the truth. They knew they wouldn't find it.

I stared at Olive's grave, she was so young. Only fourteen years old. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some movement. I could still hear Olive's laughter, Olive's footsteps, Olive's everything. But she was gone, she was behind me. Olive didn't matter. She had expired early, she was one of the lucky ones. The rain pummeled down on my glossy black umbrella, an ushered silence filled the atmosphere. She was here. She knew what I had done.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I told myself this was the only time I was allowed to cry. Yet, I knew I would sob alone in my old, raggedy sheets like I did every night. The only difference? Olive wouldn't be there with me, to dry my everlasting tears. Or to wash away my wounds that others had filled with salt.

She was too pure for this world, she deserved much better.

I held Olive's raven necklace and twiddled with it in my callused hands. It glimmered in the dim light, taunting me with all the secrets it knew. The necklace reminded me of her, she was grim, hard to keep up with, and outgoing. All characteristics the raven had. A thought danced through my blank head: My court date was coming up. Tomorrow, or so I believed it was.

My feet sunk into the freshly damp soil, all I wanted it to do was pull me down with it, pull me down to a much darker place. Where my thoughts wouldn't race, I could breathe, a place where I could finally lay my thoughts to rest.

I started trudging, 'home,' carrying the heaviest debt I've ever owed. The debt to tell the truth. There was no angel on my shoulder though, only the devil whispering deceptions into my ears as if they were the truth. The monsters are running rampant through my head again, it's like it never ends. Racing thoughts? How would I describe them? They are quick to strike, like an ambush predator. They move faster than the imagination, so you can't wish them away. So overwhelming, choking you left, right, and center. So repetitive I can't seem to dash away as I do from my problems, "Too much.." I mumble under my breath, "Make it stop, please make it stop!" I clamor, the people around me stare. They wouldn't understand. The devil on my shoulder only snickers at my foolish remarks, he had done well. As usual, the angel is nowhere to be found.

I had made it home. If you could even call it a home, a tiny box-spring bed in the middle of a damp and moldy alley. All I wanted to do was sit and think. For once in my ever-so-lonely life, it felt sorrowful to be alone. No one was here to hold me tight as Olive did. And the vast distance between me and society was the only sound I could hear. I was always called pessimistic as a young child, but my glass was always truly half empty, my parents never filled it up or at least never bothered to. My dad was absent as a young kid, sometimes I'd even forget he existed. 

My mom went through some tough times until my dad left for good. He left a hole in her already gashed heart but money in her hand. She made sure we had everything we needed and more. Until she got sick. Spoiler alert: She died. I was always told, a dad should be a child's first hero, but he was my first disappointment. So now, I just live on the streets. I have nowhere else to turn to anyways, Olive was my only person.

I lay my head to rest on my crappy pillow and crusty blankets. When I close my eyes, the pitch black consumes my fears and I settle into a daze of unworthiness and depression. 

"When you find an old picture of us, and clear away the dust, I hope you miss me sometimes," Olive whispered in my ear, as we dug through the contents of her old sticky attic.

"I'll always remember you, Olive. In a sky full of stars, I'll be staring at you. You're the one who shines the brightest." I articulated to her, gazing into her dreamy eyes.

"Can I tell you something, Aspen?" Inquired Olive, a deep seriousness set on her face.

"Always," I responded.

"Have you ever heard a song and just couldn't stop listening to it? Like the first time, you heard you thought it was okay, but the more you listen to it, the more you fall in love. It's like that song just blasts all these new colors and aspects of life into your world, and it's just too much to take in so you just listen and listen.." She paused to take a breath. "Until you know the words, the meanings behind it. Everything there is to know about that song. That's what I think falling in love is like.

When you pause the world and all you want to do is hear that person talk. Listen to their knowledge and even if they are boring at times you can still find a way to bring them closer. They just…just show you something new, something other than bitterness. It's their raw potential, of someone they are and who you know they are going to become. It's like you can't get away from them."

I was speechless. All I managed to gasp out was, "Wow, but what if you lose interest in that song?"

"An artist has more than one song." She answered calmly.

All I could do was gawk at her magnificent discovery.

I blinked. The light shined into my eyes and burned away the dream. I remembered that day. It was the best day of my life. The day I saved Olive from the tyranny of this unforgiving world. Olive was always so full of beauty and grace, even in her last moments. I laughed at my own words, she was clumsier than any other person I had met. I glanced over at the picture of me and her together, Her smile radiated all over, it even made me smile somewhat, although it was more of a frown-smile. I sat up and looked at my rusty watch, it was time to get going. I obviously didn't have enough money to buy a suit or even a nice pair of shoes, but my soul was still intact and that's all I needed to deceive the court.

Perspective - Officer Jones, October 28, 2021

There he was. Aspen Fuller, our main suspect for the supposed murder of Olive Lancey. I quickly scribbled down his description with a blank notebook and a ball point pen. 

I then glided over to greet our new suspect, my shoes clacking on the police station's newly polished floors, "Hello, you must be Aspen?" I asked in a welcoming tone. "Yep.." Aspen answered, I then noted in my notebook that the suspect was seemingly depressed. "Right this way, sir!" I exclaimed, ushering him towards the interrogation room, he kept his head down. He clearly did not want to be here. I watched as the pictures of former police chiefs and officers flew past us until we reached the end of the hallway where only a few people got to see, I guess he was lucky.

I swung open the grimy red doors as if he were the king. He curiously stepped inside, every noise ricocheted off the walls in this dark, dark place. "Please take a seat right here," I stated, as I gestured to a bright blue chair where he soon went to sit. I peered around the dimly lit room, I hadn't been in here for a while. "So, um.." He trailed off. "Do you have a question?" I asked, I was delighted he wanted to speak to me. He seemed like a very introverted person from the perspective I saw. He was biting the inside of his mouth, I knew he could taste his own blood, the way he was swishing it around in his mouth, he was a total psychopath. The cold frigid air of the interrogation room had gotten to me, I was getting too far ahead of myself, I couldn't let this happen again like it did last time.

Perspective - Aspen Fuller, October 28, 2021

"Um, do I have to be handcuffed…?" I mumbled, I could see this lady…sorry I mean Officer Jones was invested in any conversation I had to make, she must have been a loner like me, how humorous. "You're fine as long as you don't do anything unfavorable." She glimmered a huge white smile at me, it reminded me of Olive's smile, full of warmth. Unlike this cramped room, I was being held captive in. "Let's get started." Officer Jones announced. I could see the contentment leave the room as she uttered those last few words. 

"Time, 13:00, Date, October 28, 2021." She was serious about all the facts, she knew what she was talking about. "Can you describe Olive's appearance on the day of her death?" I shuddered, death was sitting right behind me at this very moment, the little devil on my shoulder whispered, "You can easily lie your way out of this." "She wore, um…" I couldn't finish my sentence. "It's okay, take your time." Officer Jones grunted, just wanting me to spit out the words that pained me so much. I took a deep breath, "She was wearing a light blue hoodie, white sweatpants, and some white sneakers." The forbidden words just flew out of my mouth, I got sucked down the rabbit hole of lies, and back to that one day. 

"Was there anything odd or out of the ordinary about her when you first talked to Olive that morning?" Officer Jones questioned. I got sucked back further in time to that morning.

September 4, 2021 - The Day Olive Died

'Good Morning sleepyhead, time to get up! :)' A bright blue bubble of joy popped up on my phone. Olive's good morning text was the highlight of my day. 'Wanna go to BayPark Bridge and watch the sunset tonight with me maybe?' Texted Olive. 'I mean it's fine if you can't, but like I just really wanna go with you!' I could tell Olive was smiling on the other end of the screen just waiting for me to say I could go. 'Let me ask my parents…oh wait, I don't have any.' I tried to sound eccentric but Olive knew me too well, she knew I was frowning, observing at the little texts she sent me. 

'I'll take that as a yes!' I just smirked, I guess I had plans for tonight after all. A voice interrupted my train of thought, "What happened after Olive sent you the good morning text, and before you left for BayPark Bridge?" Strange. I don't remember inviting anyone else into my head that day except for myself and my cumbersome mind. But I continued on with my blasé journey. I arose from my dazed state, my head still bewildered, although I couldn't shake this strong feeling of deja vu. For most of the day, I perched upon my high throne, taking in the feeling of accomplishment I was soon to taste. Once again the voice hindered my already busy-bee mind, "What feeling of accomplishment? Were you planning something?" Hm, I wondered who had gotten into my head. Another text of bliss and savior entered my phone. 'I'm waiting for you now!!!!" I liked the way she sent an even number of exclamation points with the text.

I sprung up from my bed, today was quite a chilly day. I had no jacket though, nor money. So, I just scurried on my way. The walk was serene. I felt like my brain could take a break and I could collect my contemplations about the future in my head without them oozing out as slowly as molasses. Today was a horrible mental health day, nonetheless, I carried on. My skull was exploding like fireworks into the dark night, and my mind started to fog with grim thoughts as I reached my destination. I saw her from a mile away, her blonde hair blowing like fresh grass in the dewy morning air. 

Perspective - Olive Lancey, September 4, 2021

She sat alone. Reading under the fall sunset. Her mind was wrapped around the book and how the characters developed so hastily and quietly. The characters reflected on her and her silent yet watchful state. She was waiting for someone whom she thought she was in love with; A light snow started falling as she reached for her phone to text this so-called person.

She wore a faux cashmere jacket laced with snow-white fur, her shoes were the same old as she always wore: white sneakers. She was enrobed in her favorite blue hoodie, the large text stating, 'Vanderbilt, Michigan' She soon grasped for her beige beanie, with a large fluffy pom-pom at the tippy top.

She lit a small candle so she could see the novel in the dim light. But the candle stalled and sputtered as it lost its only meaning in life, to brighten someone's night. It had fulfilled its one and only purpose she thought. She knew a candle was exactly like life, the way when someone had no meaning…that person lost their spark, their drive. But with just a little care and shelter from the wind, it could burn. And oh would it burn. If the fire grew too big it could hurt people it didn't mean to, that's where the quote, "If you don't heal what hurt you, you'll bleed on people who didn't cut you." Came in. The fire would be ravenous, with no mercy, no hope. The ego was too big; the flames couldn't be put out. She had to jot this down in her journal, it was too perfect, even for her perfectionist-like mindset.

The boy approached, a tiny smirk on his face. The young girl knew he was nothing except trouble and had psychopathic tendencies, but she loved the way his mind carefully followed the words she was saying, how he accurately described how she was feeling even when she didn't know how she was feeling. No doubt, there was only a devil on his shoulder, but she thought she could bring the angel back to life like she had the candle. Boy, was she wrong. He gingerly sat next to her, placing his skinny hand around her shoulder. "Good evening, Olive." His voice lacked any sense of embellishment, it was all monotone and fuzzy. She could only grin, the way he spoke was indeed a grave sign that death was near, but she was willing to die for this kind of love. People always said love should be something you should live for, but she respectfully disagreed. She would take a bullet for this boy any day.

She wandered to his eyes, they were blank. No sign of emotion for anything. She was too imprudent to see how ready he was to let go of her, maybe it was for the better though. "Aspen, you look blank. What is going on in your mind this evening, love?" Her heart was full, but his was completely oblivious, he was numbed with the strongest kind of medication. Childhood trauma. She wanted to nurture him, to watch him fly again. See his spirit dance in the muggy summer rain. She knew it all too well that nothing was going to happen, that it was going to end with them. With us. "I'm still breathing for no reason but to run away from what I used to be." He heaved. Some life finally came into his eyes. Her heart sweltered, if only she knew, if only I knew that this sugar was going to rot my heart, I would not only be heartbroken but my heart would be broken, not figuratively. Literally.

"Olive, look at that star!" He signaled to a shooting star off in the distance. "Make a wish, dear." She closed her eyes, the tears grew, the lump in her throat closing in. Suffocating her. She wished only one thing. To find herself in this harsh reality that he would never love her back, to find that she would never see the world in rose-colored glasses again. 

The shove. 

The push of betrayal.

Denial bounded through her mind. 

She opened her eyes. This was the end. This was how she was going out, not with a bang exactly but with a hushed silence. She felt like one of her book characters flailing through the sky. The ideal way to die in a book, no fight left in the character's body, still. They can stay and wait in the air, taking in their last momentous time on earth, watching their perpetrator grin at their immoral act, but Aspen wasn't grinning; he was simply staring at my body helplessly falling through the tough atmosphere that you could cut with a knife. Nevertheless, this wasn't a book. This wasn't make-believe. Nothing about this was pretend play. It was real. She had come to peace with the fact that she was going to die. She couldn't go back in time to open her eyes even if she tried to; if she could, she would do this again. To feel his arm around her shoulder, to even have a glimmer of aspiration. She knew it wasn't plausible, yet she dreamed. The five seconds of fame were almost up. She studied the snowflakes as they lazily drifted downward on her cheeks and her nose, a tear fell and nipped at her broken lips. She couldn't help but think that the snow looked oddly like ashes as she free-falled to the end of her existence.

Thud.

The lights went out in her brain.

Perspective - Aspen Fuller, September 4, 2021

The deed was finished. 

Clouds covered the bloodied ground as a blanket of mist blocked his view. Between the last beats of her heart, his soul crumbled to ashes. People told him to follow his heart because that was of utmost importance. But now that his heart was in millions of pieces, which piece did he follow? He was perplexed. Finally a riddle he couldn't solve. He clutched the raven necklace in his hands to the point it made his calloused fingers bleed. He cautiously drifted towards his home like a lost duckling looking for his mother, the only drawback was that he wasn't going to find his mother. His mother was dead. Gone. Just like Olive was now. Everyone was taunting him with the phrases he knew too well, but his doors weren't open, in fact, they were barricaded. Congratulations, you survived the war, now deal with the trauma. He committed an unethical act, and the thing that hurts the most is that he never really said goodbye. He just kind of ended it. 

Perspective - Aspen Fuller, October 28, 2021

My fingers drummed rhythmically on the wooden desk, while my knee bobbed up and down like a fishing hook on steroids under the table. I had let it all slip, the truth was out. The devil on my shoulder grew larger and mocked my words, the truth was a slippery slope that I stumbled down but made it out alive. "I told you, I didn't kill her, my finger slipped." An odious leer filled my face. The officer only anxiously got up and tugged the handcuffs out of the back of her stark black pants. "Put your hands up. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning." She handcuffed me and jerked the handcuffs to make sure they were secure. She dragged me out of the room. I didn't kill Olive out of pure spite, I killed Olive in her best interest. But in the end, no one cares.

Because both Olive and I know…I killed her on purpose.