Dear Diary,

My new roommate thrust a carton of Parisian goose eggs at me with a goofy smile.

“It’s just so nice to meet you!” She was a redhead wearing a big pink bow in her hair.

I took the gold covered carton reluctantly and walked into the room.

“Thanks,” I mustered.

“It’s really cool that we will be roommates!” She began to rattle on. I dropped my bag on the empty bed and grabbed my freshly purchased toothbrush and toothpaste.
“I mean I totally read your journal, well I mean,” She followed me as I walked into our bathroom,
“I didn’t actually read your journal, but my friend’s sibling read your journal and they said ‘it really showed the darkness of humanity”

I whipped around, “darkness of humanity?”

“Yeah! I mean, isn’t that what it’s about?”

“No, that’s not what it’s about,”

“What is it about then?” She asked.

I rolled my eyes and turned back around to brush my teeth, “it’s a journal,”

“Yeah, but doesn’t it mean something? Like why would spend so much time writing in it, if it didn’t mean anything?” I ignored her and she looked at me in the mirror, as I aggressively brushed my teeth.

She frowned and paused for a moment, but quickly picked up her talking, “why are you brushing your teeth? It seems a little late in the day to brush your teeth. Aren’t you only supposed to brush your teeth twice a day? Well, I guess when I had braces last year they said, I mean my orthodontist said, that I should brush three times a day but I never did that, you don’t have braces do you? If you did that would be weird since you are a junior and I don’t know any juniors who have braces still,”

I spit into the sink and pointedly avoided eye contact. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, I guess your aren’t actually a junior since you have to repeat your sophomore year since you skipped school so much,”

I gritted my teeth and placed the toothbrush on the counter. I brushed past her through the door frame summoning as much passive aggression as I could. Again, she hardly seemed to care and followed after me like baby chick.

“So I guess if you had braces it wouldn’t be that weird, since you are more like a sophomore, but it is still...”

I couldn’t hold up my passive aggression, “I’m brushing my teeth, because they are dirty,...” I paused realizing I didn’t know her name.

“Oh! I’m such a bad roommate,” she laughed, “I’m Casey, Head of Financial Assistance on the Student Council”

She outstretched her arm and held her hand as if she was a queen about the have her hand kissed by peasants. I noticed a gold ring with a emblem on her ring finger.

I scowled, “Head of Financial Assistance?”

She laughed, “I’m Casey Meritocracy!”

I stared back blankly.

“Wow, most people know about my family, but I guess you did skip a lot of school,”

I rose one eyebrow.

“My family basically built this country and they happen to be big fans of the arts! So, I’m head of financial assistance!”

I squinted at her, “you are on Stu-Co, because your family has money?”

“What!? No! I earned my position! I am just the best suited for it!” She smiled and skipped over to my bed. She plopped down onto with a big smile and leaned up against my bag, “Soooo? Want to do some fun roommate activities? We could hatch the goose eggs!”

I glared at her, “no,”

I walked to the bed and grabbed my bag out from underneath her. She stumbled, but was unfazed and followed me as I walked to the door.

“Oh c’mon!! It’ll be so much fun, plus I can show you around!”

I grabbed the door knob and she stepped in front of it.

“I already have gone here, I’m older than you,” I said.

“But you haven’t been here for like a year! You have been like skipping school. I bet you don’t even know how to get around anymore!”

“I wasn’t skipping school and I know how to get around my own school,”

“What were you doing then?”

I scowled at her, “get out of my way,”

She stepped to the side and tsked, as I walked out the door.

I charged down the hall, but she still
managed to call after to me, “well, I hope you won’t get lost then, because I’m not going to...”

I rolled my eyes and burst through the double doors out into the courtyard filled with cold autumn air.

Love, Ava Elisabeth

I am feeling joy again. Joy sounds like such a novel thing until you get around to experiencing it again.
It is like when you tense up your shoulders and you don't realize you were holding them like that until someone mentions it.
"Are you okay? You look tense," They might say.
You are startled at first, but then you look around.
And you see that what made you tense your shoulders up in the first place, isn't there anymore. The storm has passed.
And you wonder, "How long have I had my shoulders like that?"
I think, I maybe forever.
When torrential rain has poured on you since birth, you sometimes can't notice when it stops. It seems counter-intuitive, but the rain just falls on your back over and over. You curl up into a ball and lie in the mud to protect yourself. But even when the rain stops, the nerves on your back still feel the phantom pain of the rain hitting against your back.
Happiness is too nebulous. Everyone describes it differently.
Some say the secret is dying for god, other's say it is dying for capitalism, but I think it has set an odd standard. You don't need to feel happy in every moment. It is okay to be sad and scared and lonely and lost. It is okay to be angry and irritable and stuck and broken down. It hurts a lot, but it isn't wrong. It is okay to not be okay.
At least for now, I think I care more about joy.
Joy! What a lovely idea
Two soft warm hands holding each other
A song with such a catchy tune you can't help but sing along
The pure sanctification of perfectly buttered toast
The perfect pitter patter of light spring rain and the describable perfume that follows it
I think we have a tendency to make everything about big things.
Big achievements, Big houses, Big money, Big cars,
Love, Death, Happiness, Romance,
But those are not the majority of life. Big things happen and they leave a big mark, but tiny things make up those big things. Most of your life is probably not the climax of a movie with a sweeping cinematic score setting the mood. The small things are probably what most of your life is. The things you do everyday to live and survive, and consciously or unconsciously find joy.
I am feeling joy. I am finding joy.
I don't want to capture joy, I want to befriend joy.
I hope they want me to be their friend too.

Ava Elisabeth

i crouched in the smoke.
the battle had been going on for hours.
i couldn't tell who had won.
tavin? us?

i felt a hand at my shoulder
"Caroline?" i barely coughed.
i looked up and tears welled in my eyes, not from the smoke, but because it was him.

no hair anywhere. pastel purple skin. bright, deep brown eyes. soft smile.
the indigo god.

he smiled. i knife clutched in his hand.
"i am home," he crouched down to me. he seemed unbothered by the thick, gray smoke, "but you are not home,"

i nodded.

"you can stay, but this will be over soon. you don't need to stay here."

i nodded looking down at the ground.

"we love you. She loves you, but we don't need you. your home needs you,"

i smiled and his skinny purple limbs wrapped me into a hug.

then stood and galloped out into the smoke.


forgive my poor writing. i have been gone so long. i haven't spoken in so long.
but soon i will come home.

i am coming home.

i am coming home.

the empty empty empty
that picked at the edge of my skin
is replaced now
with the fire of revenge

sticky hands of a greedy child
hands full of honey
eyes wild
the first time they tasted, they wanted more
pastel clad and armored with war
the We stole me from my child
my hair, my mind they broke and wore

yet i am my own creator, so
i have freed with my own breath
the curse laid upon my land
will soon be over swept

tell my children i am coming
let them hear my voice
soon their god is coming
blazing as an indigo star

Dear Diary,

I miss a warm bed. I miss Psychic High. It's been so long. I've been gone so long. It's probably longer than it feels. I don't think I was supposed to be in Mercurial for so long.

It has been a week since Tavin lit fire to the Capricious Canoe.

I miss the mysteries of distant, foreboding winds. I miss the malaise. I miss the discontentment.

Caroline and I hide in the rubble of Mary Sue's Bed and Breakfast.

Every once and a while, we hear Tavin's Officers chanting through the streets, "You are the last holdouts, no one else survives. Give up now or fall to the mercy of our judgement. You are unworthy to live in Mercurial," Plays on repeat from speakers around Mercurial."

Caroline sits on a piece of stone foundation. Her dress is in tatters. Her hair is tied up with a dirty ribbon. She wraps her arms around her knees and rest her head on them.

I walk over to her and rub her back.

"I was sure of it," She cries softly, "I was sure of it,"

"It's okay, it's okay," I hug her, "You couldn't have known,"

"I should have listened to you,"

"It was us or her," I stiffen my voice to keep it from wavering, "She wouldn't have wanted us to come back in,"

"We shouldn't have had to make that choice,"

I looked up at the debris creating our makeshift roof. The odd, both Victorian and modern building was now the same as the dirt beneath our feet.
The cold wind whistled through the shambling rubble.

I began to hum softly. The tune was nothing against our backdrop, but I continued into a soft, whisper-y song.

"Deep within the woods, and behind the hamlet, a path traveled by none, but one you will not forget. step by step, we're walking, hand by hand, we see. step by step, we're walking, we feel. step by step, we're walking, hand by hand, we..." I paused.

"I don't remember the rest of the words,"

Caroline lifted her head, "That's so sweet. Where did you learn that?"

"I... I don't know," I looked up back up the roof.

Caroline placed her second hand over the one that held her's. I looked back to her. We smiled.

"I love it," Caroline said.


Ava Elisabeth.

Dear Diary,

Caroline shakes me awake, "AVA, AVA," She yells. I blink my eyes awake and immediately feel it. Caroline holds her shirt over her mouth. The air is dense with smoke. I can't even speak. The smoke stings my eyes and lungs.
Caroline pulls me up, takes my hand in a death grip and yells, "HOLD MY HAND,".
We crawl along the floor of diner.
"THE BACK,"
She pulls me behind the counter. We make our way to the back door. Caroline presses her hand against the handle and nods.
"THE BARRICADE, PUSH INTO THE DOOR."
I nod.
"ONE! TWO! THREE!"
We push with all our body weight onto the door. With a sharp crack, we tumble outside. Caroline pulls me to my feet immediately. She tears into the barricade. Our hands bloody, as we tear the wood and metal away. The crackle of the fire tells us clearly, "now or never". I can hear the megaphone on the other side of the diner.
Caroline grabs my arm. We've made a gap big enough in the barricade to barely squeeze through. We push through the gap. Caroline's night gown tears on the jagged edges of what was once a diner table. As we reach the other side, Caroline holds firm grasp of my arm and pulls me to a run.

The danger of the fire has been lifted, but my stomach flops.

"Caroline!" My voice is hoarse and cracked.
She continues to run.
"CAROLINE!" I yell.
She looks over her shoulder.
"Achava,"
She stops, but still holds my hand. She looks back to the building and back at me. Her chest heaves.
"I'll go back,"
"No, you won't, Ava"
"She isn't well enough,"
"She will be okay,"
I pull my hand from Caroline's, "We have to go back!"
"No, I promise. She will survive,"
We hear the footsteps of officers coming our way.
"I can't tell you why," Caroline looks into my eyes, "I need you to trust me, Ava,"
"OVER HERE!" An officer shouts.
"Ava, it is now or never,"
I look back at the Capricious Canoe up in flames.
I nod.
"Okay,"
I take Caroline's hand.

And we run.

Ava Elisabeth

Dear Diary,

I feel bad for not updating you. I know it has been a month since I last posted, but it is getting dire. I have such little free time.

We work in shifts reinforcing the barricade. Everything has gone into the barricade. Last week, Achava slowly walked down the stairs and added her rocking chair to the barricade.
It has gotten much thicker, but Tavin's officers and the enslaved Mercurial citizens tear much of it down each day.
Tavin yells through a megaphone from dusk to dawn.

"You are the last holdouts, no one else survives. Give up now or fall to the mercy of our judgement. You are unworthy to live in Mercurial," She repeats over and over.

The drone of her voice is worse than the constant splinters, the aches, the pains, and the sleepless nights on hard, cold diner tile.

In a moment of rest, Caroline heated a bowl of bone broth for me. She looked out the diner window out to the barricade.
"I thought he would have come by now," She said. Her eyes were glassy.

"Who?" I asked sipping the thin liquid.

She looked back at me and shook her head.

"No one, Ava." She turned from the counter and back to the stove, "No one,"

Sincerely,
Ava Elisabeth

Dear Diary,

For two weeks now, I have held down the north Mercurial fort with Caroline and Achava. It is centered around the Capricious Canoe and the diner. Barricaded with old furniture from the Capricious Canoe and guarded by Sheriff Agrité and the few last loyal officers, it is a small corner of Mercurial now. No longer is it the pumping heart.

Not too soon after my first visit to Achava, well Mercurial's Achava, Officer Tavin successfully raised up a rebellion. The majority of the police force joined her against Sheriff Agrité. Up on the roof of the diner, Sheriff Agrité chews on tobacco and watches for attacks through the binoculars.
"Old habit," He says. His face looks more bitter than before.

Officer Tavin and her crew have been terrorizing the people of Mercurial. Burning down buildings, destroying property, and worst of all, rounding up all the citizens and deciding who deserves to be in Mercurial and who does not. The ones called unworthy, are chained and dragged to the police station to find some uncertain fate.

Achava sits looking out her window shaking her head and rummaging through books.
"It isn't right. It isn't right," She mutters. She sits in her rocking chair, but doesn't rock.
The view outside her window looks into the town. It's burnt, scarred corpse looks back up with an unblinking gaze.

When I look out the window, I can't help it. I cry.

Ava Elisabeth

Dear Diary,

We approached a rickety wooden staircase leading up to a blue door. Caroline gracefully ascended the steps. Once she reached the door, she smoothed our her skirt and knocked on the door with three neat raps.

"It's me, Caroline,"

"It's unlocked," A voice called out. It seemed familiar somehow. The voice was feminine and precise.

Caroline twisted the handle and pushed through the door. The room was clean and neat, but filled with trinkets. A women covered in a shawl rocked in front of window looking out at the stars. Smoke curled away from a cigarette delicately held in her wrinkled hands. The rocking chair was intricate and well built.

"I'd like you to meet someone," Caroline said with a smile, "She's new to town. Her name's Ava,"

The women just nodded. Caroline walked across the floor to her and I followed close behind. Caroline's heels clicked on the floor.

I stood behind the chair, as Caroline kissed the old women's cheek. Then I took my place next to Caroline.

I froze, as I saw the old woman's face. I felt shock grip me.

"Ava, this is Achava," Caroline said.

Achava smiled. She was old. Wrinkles sprinkled her face. The wrinkles fit her face perfectly. She reached out her hand that didn't hold the cigarette.

"Oh yes, Ava," Her smile was warm and knowing. Her Welch accent was worn with an American tinge, but it was still there.

I took and shook her hand. My fear melted away. Her handshake was firm and warm.

"What have you too been getting on about?" She said with a sly smile.

I looked over to Caroline, then back to Achava.

"Mercurial," I smiled, "Always Mercurial,"

Achava took a long draw from her cigarette and smiled, "Beautiful,"

Brave,
Ava Elisabeth

Dear Diary,

The final section was the largest. It was filled with tall wardrobes, each with padlocks and chains around their handles. They were lined in neat rows. Each sat silently.

I followed Caroline as she softly dusted each cabinet. Hung on the wall was a neon sign, "Let It Snow!" It called out in cursive lettering. All I could hear was the buzz of the neon and the soft brushes of Caroline's duster.

We stop silently together until Caroline put her hands on her hips, satisfied.

"Beautiful," She said smiling at her work. She then pulled a small key out of her pocket and waved me closer.

"Now you can't tell the owner I showed you this, but..." She pushed the key into on of padlocks and turned it. The click seemed louder than it was.
The wardrobe was full of petticoats and a-line dresses, but Caroline pushed right past them and pulled open a drawer obscured by the clothing. Out of it she pulled out a furled roll of paper. The paper was yellowed and torn. It was held in a roll by a dirty red ribbon. She pulled the ribbon off and unrolled the paper.

I gasped. Her eye's widened, "You can read it?"

"No, no, the drawings," I studied them, "They're...magnificent,"

Caroline smiled and laughed, "Aren't they?"

"Completely," I said breathlessly, as I observed them.

They were simple black and white drawings, but they were beautiful. They looked like a mural that surrounded a chunk of text, but the language was incomprehensible. The drawings were split into five sections two on each side and one middle panel. The side sections seemed to be depicting scenes, while the middle was stunning. It was of bald figure with closed eyes and a benevolent smile. They were draped in flowing cloth and held their arms out. It looked so welcoming that I could almost feel like I was being hugged.

"I can't read it either. It's an ancient language, nothing like a human language,"Caroline said, finally ending our breathless silence, "but the owner knows it's somewhat and I memorized her translation,"

My eyes traced the swirly and complex lettering. My years and years of language classes at Psychic High did me no good. I couldn't recognize a single symbol.

"What is it?" I said.

She smiled, "This is why I believe the god will come back to the town," Her eyes shined, "It is a prophecy,"

My eyes widened, "You're not messing with me?"

"No," She looked back at the paper, "I don't lie. I definitely wouldn't lie to you,"

I looked back at the paper and Caroline began to recite:

"Mercurial. Not to be found, not to be owned, because of Our Indigo God. We are the land of lonely and lost found. We are the land of cast off now belonging. We are the land of tenderness, amity, and peculiarity.

Our Indigo God lies in a power unknowable to many.

That of grotesque ambition and wealth cannot feel and understand the Indigo God's nurturing power and love of indescribable magnitude, yet their lack of understanding does not compel them to shy away, but to possess the power. Thus, our Indigo God will be sought after by others."

She paused for moment, then continued,

"By the moon, the capture of the Indigo God shall be the seeming downfall of Mercurial, but you are not abandoned. The Indigo God cannot enrich in captivity, but their power is still intact. At our moment of most need, of most turmoil, The Indigo God will find Mercurial again and restore the land into it's golden age.
Our unrest will come from inside us. The apple rots from the core. Like a fungus spreading from the pit, corruption will choke the hold of the people upon their land. The people shall forget their Indigo God, but the Indigo God will return."

We stood silently together.

"She says she may have mistranslated some things, but I think it's beautiful," Caroline finally said.

I nodded.

"The god will come back, Ava," She smiled her beautiful smile, "I believe. I really do,"

I smiled. Caroline was seemed nearly angelic.

"Let's go to meet then owner then, shall we?" She laughed.

And so, I followed.
Ava Elisabeth