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Where are you going? I asked. The middle of nowhere. I thought this was it. Nah. You shook your head. This is just the edge.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Head
Middle
Thought
Going
Shook
Nowhere
Edge
Edges
Asked

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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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It sounded weird to hear you talk so much normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
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The sand stretched out gray and ghostlike and illuminated, a column of light leading forward. It was like something a dead person would see, a tunnel leading toward heaven.
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I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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I could hear you, talking to the daffodils and tulips, whispering to the fairies that lived inside their petals. Each separate flower had a different family inside it.
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There is no need to put your heart in a bottle, then you will die. - Ty from Stolen
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It happened like this. I was stolen from an airport. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to sand and heat, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere.
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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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I mean, that star over there is blinking at me madly now, but for how long? An hour or two, or for the next million years? And how long will we sit here like this? Just another moment, or the rest of our lives? You know which one I'd prefer.
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
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