OFF-CUTS!

Crock O' Dial

Gwenda's body lay broken upon the rocks at the base of the cliff.

I was there when she fell; I saw her, and I did nothing.

She, Gwenda O'Donnel, died almost instantly, her remains swept away by the ocean currents, nobody knows what happened but me.

To them, she disappeared.

I've heard conjecture that she ran off with a vagrant, or that she'd become a runaway hooligan, or she'd robbed the bakery and moved to the big city, and I've since wondered if anybody ever knew the real her.

Did nobody grow as close to her as I?

I feel as if all their tears are merely performances, while mine are salty bombs of bereavement.

Why should a sweet girl of sixteen, still so innocent, befriend an old crippled beggar?

Each afternoon I'd sit atop the lookout, high above the roiling ocean, and listen to the sounds of the world from afar.

It was the only place I could be myself by myself, although I didn't object to her breaking my isolated existence when she arrived; I never minded.

She'd dance along the grass as I regaled her with my stories, and answered her questions about the darker aspects of life.

At times, I know she teased me with her youth.

Her skirt often hiked up, showing her white cotton underpants, and she'd giggle, or she'd speak unladylike.

Not that she knew what most of those rude words meant, leading me to giggle back at her absurd suggestions.

I knew why she did it too.

Gwenda wasn't as gullible as the rest of these fools; she suspected that my paraplegia was a ruse from the moment we met.

Every impure action she undertook was to try to catch me out, and I loved her playful teasing.

She didn't like me in that way, and I knew it, although I didn't care.

It'd be wrong if she did, but now she's gone, and I'm to blame.

Why didn't I jump from my chair and save her?

She hung from that grassy edge for a good ten seconds or so, clutching at roots in panic before she fell; there was plenty of time to stop it.

Sure, I'd be caught out, but she'd be alive, so it'd be worth it.

If I could, I'd trade everything to have her back.

One last secret clifftop rendezvous.

I thought I saw her yesterday, skipping passed the sundial in the center of town as I begged for change.

My heart skipped a beat, and my breath slowed considerably, although as the girl got closer, I realized it wasn't her but her younger sister, Octavia.

She appeared as carefree as Gwenda, and I thought then and there that they're alike.

I missed her so, and I'm sure her sibling felt the same; my thoughts raced like a diving hawk, and I wheeled up to the lookout.

From there, I spotted her skipping back home, and I knew we needed each other.

Darkness fell upon our sleeping village early that night, and I rolled my wheelchair off the cliff, praying this small sacrifice would deem our asexual union worthy to the gods.

I crept to her window and peered inside, but she wasn't there.

After a few hours, I curled up in a ditch in the thick woods behind their home and succumbed to my selfish need for slumber.

When I woke, the house was ablaze, threatening to scorch the trees concealing me.

In my cowardice, I ran blindly in the opposing direction as a choir of pained screams echoed from the branches.

The sound hurt worse than the underbrush tearing apart my bare soles, but my feet haven't stopped moving since.

I feel the flames lick at my back with each step, and the further I seem to get, the more my surroundings look the same.

A few moments ago, I turned and saw an incredible sight; that house still burns behind me.

It's as if I haven't gone anywhere.

Exhausted, I turn back now and nearly fall as I see these two sisters standing just outside the fire's grasp, beckoning me to join them.

Their smiling faces make me wonder if I should, but fear overwhelms me as they turn and slowly prance through the treacherous glow unharmed.

Why do they want me?

I want them, but do I want them like this?

As my mind wanders, my body decides for me, and I begin my short journey toward them.

The gods granted my wishes; I should feel happy, shouldn't I?

Shouldn't I?