Stolen Voices ✓

July 25th

I am made and remade continually.

Different people draw different words from me.

-Virginia Woolf

July 25th:

The world is just a big ball of energy. Everything you touch with your fingertips is energy. When two people interact, they mark the other with this unique yet undivided force. The more lengths in time they go without seeing that said person, the more energy fades. But if they see each other frequently, per se, every day, this mark grows, this imprint on them expands. When that happens, you can get feelings, such as love.

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Mara's hands are on Elias's shoulders, her fingertips white as she clutches onto him tightly. His hands hook behind her knees, holding up her weight. Her flushed chest presses against his back as he carried her along the grassy path, beaten down by shoes denoting their territory. They walk through a crowd of sweaty limbs as the sun is hot against their skin, the carnival overcrowded with children and teens.

The smell of deep-fried food, and sugar, attacks their senses the more profound they venture into the forest of hot and sweaty bodies. Games such as ring toss and miniature bowling have strobe lights flickering as winners jump up and down, the losers sulking.

The people around them are boisterous, screaming as the roller coaster carts, old with age, dropped 90 degrees towards the unforgiving ground. They clutch the cool metal handlebars in front of them. The old, loose seat belts, doing nothing to keep them from rising off the seat. Their shrill screams of both fear and adrenaline.

"You wanna do that?" Mara asks, her lips brushing against Elias's ear, goosebumps pricking his neck. She can walk herself, but her feet ache, and Elias doesn't mind carrying her. Her arms, more locked around his neck. He chuckles, shaking his head as he hugs her tighter to him, never enjoying touch this much.

It feels like sparks dancing on his skin where her fingertips graze. His body shudders as her lips press against his ears, sending low vibrations through his eardrums. She feels the same like he is igniting flames underneath her skin. He is also the only one who can cool her down.

"No way," he says, "I'd rather stay on the ground, where I know I won't fall to my death." Elias has a fear of un-enclosed heights.

When he was ten, Elias decided to outclimb the older kids, who taunted him. Upscaling towards the highest branch in the tree, he'd made it all the way up. His bony arms, reaching towards the next branch as his foot forcing up on the last. When he glanced down, though, the world was spinning, and he had no way of getting down. Elias did the only plausible thing.

He fainted. His world went black as he went flying towards the solid ground, breaking both of his arms and leaving him with a concussion. The older kids had left him there, snickering. Watching as blood trickled down his temples, and his world went dotted, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

After that moment, he swore he wouldn't go anywhere near heights that weren't enclosed. Even the thought of climbing a tree sent him reeling back, his posture becoming defensive.

"Common Eli, I'll be with you," she attempts to convince, kicking his legs with her heels. He stops in his tracks, shaking his head furiously. A few people throw dirty glances as they nearly crash into him at his sudden halting, sidestepping around the two.

"Why don't we find your friends that disappeared thirty minutes ago?" He challenges, trying to change the topic. He wouldn't admit that he had an irrational fear of heights derived from a freak childhood incident.