One

"no"

My goal is to live as though death is nonexistent. And to love you boundlessly. 

Come back to earth - Mac Miller

Emmie

"Since they didn't want me to believe that I don't belong to anything but the earth, I searched for ways to return. I had an affinity for sharp things and deep waters. Since I deserve to die, just let me do it myself. Give me a chance to tear up my own veins. Give me a chance to submerge myself in the ice and watch it turn from red to blue to purple again."

"Never once had I thought my firsts would be forever. Never once had I thought that my lasts would be my reasons."

I'm six years old. And I'll be six forever.

Emmie stared at herself in the ice, at her dark curtain bangs and shoulder length locks that blended into the darkness of death and everything inverse. She was in Sigma, the blue washed world in which everything existed beyond death. She resonated with the last line because a lot of her presents turned to her lasts when she had died. She was four years old when she rose and could only remember the stinging sensation of her cuts. As they oozed with the thick metallic scented crimson red. She was four years old when she reached the end of her narrative.

She read Ariems chickenscratch writing before setting off beyond the gates of Sigma, and into the world of inverse. The world where rain fell from cloudless skies.

Anything to make me stop counting the days. Anything to make me stop dreaming of fast-forwarding time. Anything to make me appreciate this monotonous narrative I call my life.

Emmie had been to earth a few times, as a Djinn and she appreciated very little of it. For some reason there, the ice wasn't warm, and the northern gales were scentless. Music wasn't silence anymore and light wasn't black. Everything seemed to be bathed in a warm white light, everything seemed saturated and exaggerated. It was almost like the facade in a play. She didn't like the repetition that earth represented.

And like a mottled flame, a dying spark, I rose into the sky into a world where day was referred to as night. I rose into a world where my end was referred to as my beginning, where I was never cold and always straddled by a moist blanket of fog. Warm fog that reminded me of firsts that were abruptly reduced to my last moments. A world where my tears were referred to as utility and my sweat the same. The muscles of my heart were spread out into the sky into a canvas of a deep cerulean blue and in the blink of an eye I became a celestial being.

I became a God of life, a beacon of healing. In this new world there were no angels or devils, only reminders that death is the only thing infinite and beyond death there is no end, only the beginning of a new world in which everything is inverse. 

My love for everything has become the silent melody that has adorned my life. I may be only a sliver of who I was yesterday but I'm sure that I am a wholesome being whose heart was meant to be a canvas. 

And listening to the harmonies again was like waking up next to a new lover after a tumultuous night out of dancing underneath the stars. It was like being surrounded by the discs that surround Saturn. Like being stabbed by the prongs of a golden, salt crusted fork and being rehealed immediately.

I closed my eyes and in blindness I found clarity that exuded a crisp lightness that was unmatched. In death I found a wholesome life filled with multiple delights and splendour. All I felt was the serene rising and falling of my brain as I was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of dizziness. I opened them again, and stared at the dark day sky.