Story Telling
I absolutely hate it when woohu's down. I guess I'll have to send Andy some money so he can fix the problem.

Kay. It took me over an hour to write this story..... so yeah. And that massive headache is back. -.-


Once there was this candle. Sleek and tall, an ivory white, almost reminding of weddings and purity and joy.

This candle lived with a family of two parents and a young girl. It was placed on the table of the family's house were everyone would see it at least once a day and it was lit not long after the little girl's fourth birthday. It shown brightly, giving warmth and happiness to those who watched it, a constant stability in the years that followed. Yes, years. For that candle burned slowly.. much slower than any candle before it.

The years passed and the little girl grew, but she always sat at that table at least once a day and smiled at the candle she had grown accustomed to and loved. The candle was happy, since it had a loving girl to look after it and keep it company, and knew it was making the rest of the family happy as well.

By the time the girl was around seven.. life began to pick up a bit. The candle had passed halfway from it's original height but strained to keep standing tall for the family. It watched the world though, worryingly. The girl occasionally missed seeing the candle at least once on some days. The parents often exchanged harsh words. And sometimes there would be absolutely no one at the table to sit with and enjoy the candle.

The candle grew lonely, and did not strain as much to stand tall. But still tried hard to keep it's light strong in case someone from the family passed by and needed the stable light. So there it stayed, on the table, for close to another year as things around it grew turbulent.

Close into the new year the child turned eight and took on a new look of the world. She returned to the candle more often, taking better care of it, and sometimes even talking to the candle about her day. With this development the candle shined and tried to stand up tall again so the girl would always know she could come to it. But by now the candle was at a very small height.

Then suddenly things shifted. The parents were like whirlwinds and breezes blew through the house. The candle fought against the winds but, still being a candle, could do little to protect itself. The flame would flicker, dodge the wind, then grow as strong as possible again. Still, the parents were moving around quickly, and the girl was forced to pick up pace as well. Confusion and upsetness filled the house and the candle tried hard to overcome it all but it was growing weak.

The girl was sitting at the table talking to the candle one day when the parents blew in again. She stared at the candle as it struggled to survive and glanced frantically to her parents and around the house. She had to do something to save the candle she had grown to depend on. She couldn't move it, it was far too weak to move now. The parents weren't going to end their shouts of winds, there was only one way for that to end. She had to find something to shield the candle.

Then the girl found it. It was a glass jar. When turned and placed over the candle it would provide protection from the buffeting wind but still allow everyone to see it. She rejoiced as she placed it over the candle, and the candle rejoiced as well, finding everything better. The flame could continue steadily and the jar didn't allow any of the wind in to touch the candle.

The candle watched the girl's lips though it could not read and was comforted by the girl's presence. The girl in turn was comforted by the candle's survival and that the whirlwinds of her parents could not hurt the candle any longer.

So the days passed, but things passed differently then usual. The parents were slowing but becoming more violent. The girl was often forced away from the house for periods of the day. And the candle found it harder to keep it's flame going strong.

On one particular day the girl was cowering by the table, talking quickly to the candle though the candle couldn't hear, as one of the parents moved rapidly through the house. The candle knew that the winds must be whipping around but felt safe in its confinements. It also knew that the girl seemed scared and very upset, so it put forth all it had to shine brightly for the girl. At that moment the flame wavered and the temporary smile it had given the girl twisted into concern.

Her little hand went out for the jar but right then it was grabbed by the parent. The parent proceed to pull the child from the table and toward the door, yelling back into the house with violent flurries. The girl was hysterical as she cried out for her candle, trying to reach with her free hand for the candle that continued to be pulled farther away from her.

The door slammed shut and the candle looked around at the eerie silence. It sputtered and something appeared that it had never seen before.. smoke. The candle did not understand. It's flame grew dimmer and it thought about the girl. The girl it had grown up with, and the family it had helped to comfort. It thought of the smiles it had caused and the strength it's small flame had once provided. It looked at this new substance filling up it's glass jar and wondered about the girl's future. It wondered how the girl would get along and how the candle had not been brought to be with her.

And there, at that last thought, the flame of the candle wavered and died, puffed into smoke.

Left to die, completely alone.




But.. was it's the girl's absence that led to the death of the beloved candle? Or its loneliness of the growing years built too high? The deduction that the girl could never come back? Or the parents' whirlwinds of pain? Or was it simply the fact that it no longer received any oxygen to remain alive....?

12 lovers | just breathe