Writing Championships #4

Amber Antags

Song: Strange - The Score

Lately I've been thinking that everyone around me is insane.

The flames of war were only quieted by the darkness of the night, and Stress stared up at the stars.

Shiny, bright things, individuals. Like the Hermits.

They were all individuals, but now why were they trying to follow one side blindly?

What had happened?

Why must people always fight?

Why must people get hurt over and over again? Why can't it just be people?

Stress clenched her fists in anger, leaves tickling into her ankles.

She was so high up, away from it all. The only place she could just sit and think her thoughts, and not feel guilty about not thinking the thoughts of others.

Was she the only one?

Marching in single file cause they thinking that it's the only way.

They kept telling her what to do, keeping her in line like a soldier. She never wanted to fight this war. She was only roped into the Resistance because she found their HQ. If she had had a choice, she would have run the hell away, not wanting to get caught up in this petty war.

Like, seriously, it's over a few different varieties of dirt, for heaven's sake.

Sighing and shaking her head became a normal thing to do.

Sitting in Iskall's tree also became a normal thing to do, especially at night. It was quiet, plus, the redstoner was usually working late shifts at Pacific.

So it was usually empty. Empty enough for ideas, both useful and useless, to flow.

She would sometimes bring hot chocolate, sometimes tea, but mostly just her notebook and a blanket. Sometimes she'd fall asleep up here. Sometimes she'd be up all night, doodling or writing poetry.

But mostly she'd just sit in silence, taking a look up at the stars.

But I'm never gonna fall in line.

Maybe she wouldn't follow orders. Not exactly.

Sure, she could pretend to be the perfect resistance member they all wanted; the spy.

But all she wanted was peace.

That's the motivation she had found while running for mayor. There really hadn't been a key point that started it (she had been dragged into it after all), but she realized along the way that the world just needed to collaborate with each other.

To live in peace.

Never gonna live like I'm color blind.

She could care less about which side won. All she truly cared about, was the Hermits being friends again who were in the war.

And she wanted to keep hoping and building bonds, knowing they were going to break over little silly things.

And oh, god.

Stress could feel mascara smudge in her eyes in the injustice of it all, her cheeks dappled by moonlight.

Why did it always make her feel this way?

Every night and every day, it was just this burden of guilt that no one else seemed to know, only her.

She just didn't want to feel the guilt anymore.

Living between all the black and white.

They could love one dirt version over another, but she'd prefer them to just coexist, like how the Hermits normally lived without war happening. Dirt didn't really fight over which one was better, so why are the Hermits fighting over them? It didn't make sense to her.

She wished someone would just break through, do something.

And despite being on a team, on a side, she felt alone.

Why did she feel alone?

"Stress?"

She jumped, wobbling a bit. A figure with a blue mechanical eye stood behind her, the silhouette outlined by the light of the tree.

"Hiya there, Iskall!" Stress tried to laugh it off, wiping the mascara from her eyes. "You scared me, love."

"Whatcha doing here?" Iskall sat down next to her, the leaves rustling beneath their legs.

"Just felt a bit strange." A blue star twinkled, the darkness fading away to give way to the sun. "About this whole Turf war thing. Something just doesn't feel right."

"You know, me too." Iskall smiled at her. "I knew I wasn't the only one."

"We can be strange together."

Score: 9