Crystill Clear

The sun is smiling, and thin clouds are doing a lazy dance across the vast baby blue ocean that is the sky. The inspiration for the clouds’ dance has sent forth a cool breeze that brushes against an unfamiliar face. Crystill, an up and coming rockstar who had just come to town the day before smiles at this caress on her cheek. Just like the days she would relax on the beach by the water, she turns around to look. Only instead of the ocean waves, she’s met with green grass and instead of sand between her toes, she is standing on stage. The town Bethel is secluded from society and has only a few residents, however they do have a remarkable outdoor stage. It appears to be brand new, as it glistened from top to bottom. The name of her newest song, “Crystill Clear” was obviously the main influence for how the stage was decorated. It had Four large floor to ceiling pillars made of linked clear crystals, which became increasingly frosted as it neared the bottom and were supposedly frozen to the floor. Crystill inspected the stage wondering which materials they used to build it, while her sister, Carmen set up the sound system.

“Hey, I’m done with your stupid sound check.” Carmen said from right behind Crystill; startling her.

“Ha? Oh..uhh. thanks, Carmen.” Crystill said, now facing her taller and poutier younger sister.

“If you’re done inspecting the stage,” Carmen said bitterly “why don’t we get something to eat?”

Crystill lit up at the thought of finally meeting the town’s people. Even though she and her sister arrived the day before, they were busy meeting the mayor, who had invited them into the privacy of his home. The two sisters decided to eat at a small waffle house nearby while they still had time before the show. As soon as Carmen walked into the quaint establishment, she was met with many smiles and a few inquisitive looks. The town doesn’t get many visitors aside from their own children that visit during the holidays. Carmen has always had a commanding presence about her that entices and entrances onlookers. The way she glided when she walked allowed her super curly dark brown hair bounce around behind her. Her outfits were always classy, she dazzled like a model who’s hair is blown by artificial wind at all times. However, when Crystill stepped in behind her, most of those welcoming smiles changed to looks of obvious confusion. Her favorite color to wear is black, thus most of her outfits are monochrome and adorned by something unnecessarily flashy or novel. Today, she wore thick platform boots; chains hooked all over, that ended just after her knee, comfortable black pants riddled with straps, and a loose distressed sweater. Black monochrome outfits such as this one emphasize her pale complexion, making her look as beautifully surreal as a manga character.

After looking around patiently, they realized there would be no host to seat them and they looked for an open booth to sit at. A nice booth by a sunny window caught their gaze. As they made their way over, towering over the other seated guests, Carmen grimaced and fought what seemed to be a battalion of never ending flies. Behind her still, was Crystill who absorbed the stares like lotion on parched skin with her usual indifferent expression. Not any sooner than her soft pant’s fabric grazed the booth’s doughy seat, a teenaged girl in a waitress’ get up approached the table with a toothy grin.

“Welcome to Bethel! I trust you two are enjoying your stay?”

Though Crystill had begun to say something, Carmen loudly spoke first, somewhat irritated.

“Why would someone like me be enjoying a stay here? I’m only here to help my sister with her performance today.”

When the waitress turned to look at Crystill, she noticed her hair was black, wavy, and gradually turned stark white as it neared the booth. Carmen must have noticed also, because she squinted at the waitress and said “I know… flashy right?”

“Wow! You’re a performer? What kind?” The waitress asked, not giving Carmen the time of day.

Crystill saw the flashes of light in the young lady’s eyes and perked up again.

“You can call me Crystill. Do you like rock? I make rock music that inspires you to look past your current situation to see hope for a better future. A lot of people are complacent with the abuse they’re enduring, so I want my music to reach out to those people and show them that they have the power to change everything.” As crystill said this, she began to look at something far far away. Perhaps a ghost of the past.

“Wow. You must be an idol! I don’t listen to much rock, but I’d love to come for your show! This must be why the governor had such a stage built. What time will it be?” The waitress eagerly asked.

“It’s actually two hours from now. We just stopped by for breakfast, because we haven’t eaten since we arrived yesterday.” Crystill said, once again present in the conversation.

“Well I’ll take the rest of the day off, because I wouldn’t want to miss it. Have you had a chance to look over the menu? I’m sure they don’t have waffle houses where you’re from.”

“No, I’ve never been to a place like this before, but I’m loving it so far.”

“No problem. I’ll just tell the cook to make you a bit of everything. It’s on the house.” The waitress said with a wink as she turned to walk away.

“Wow, leave it to you to drag me to loser-ville. I guess you aren’t so popular after all.” Carmen said while analyzing her sister’s face.

Crystill’s expression wasn’t hard at all. It was soft, as if she had just had Christmas dinner, and relaxation had replaced her usual anxious posture. This caused Carmen an itch deep down in her soul that couldn’t be scratched regardless of what or how hard she tried. After a couple minutes of deafening silence for Carmen and peaceful thoughts for Crystill, who was staring wistfully out of the window, a small boy approached the table with a small sketchpad and a crayon in hand.

“Uhm.” The boy started, with a doubtful smile. “I heard you’s a rockstar. Could I get your sign?”

The boy said while handing Crystill the pad and crayon.

“Is that so?” She said with a reassuring tone. “Well you heard correctly. I see you have a notebook there, so you must be an artist. Because you’re an artist just like me, I’ll give you my super duper special secret signature. What do you think of that?”

The boy’s eyes lit up with beams of light that could only come from the stars in outer space. He watched her each and every stroke of the crayon as she colored in circles, made swoops, and hoops that loop the loop. At the end she drew three straight lines under her name one under the other. He was so thrilled he didn’t speak nor move.

“Now that I’ve shown you my secret signature, could I see one of your drawings?”

The boy nodded and flipped the page to reveal a red fire engine.

“Wow, you draw so well! I love the Dalmatian you drew riding the truck. Do you want to be a fire fighter?”

“No, I don’t want to be a fire fighter. This is a picture of the toy truck that Mr. Mayor gave me”

“So what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I want to be just like you when I grow up. Thank you for the sign.” The boy said, obviously feeling cozy on the inside.

Carmen could feel the sizzling lava about to flow over. Her scarlet words devouring any and everything within her sight.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to not say hi to an adult when they’re sitting right in front of you?”

The boy then looked over at Carmen for the first time and said

“my mamma said friendship goes two ways.” Then walked back to who seemed to be his mother.

Crystill shared with the mother her bright smile, and in return the mother gave her a nod of approval. The mom went on to entertain her son’s story as if she wasn’t there the entire time, and Crystill continued to look out the window. It didn’t seem like she was looking at anything in particular, but rather daydreaming about something. Her hand on her chin, her elbow propped on the table; the light from the window illuminated her smile, and shone on her eyes. Even the legion of loyal dust particles refracted the light to give her an unearthly filter. The beams of light, as if from the heavens, focused on her golden eyes and hair that shined like a car off of the lot. She is the definition of the female lead in a shoujo manga, and this was the scene that immortalized her beauty with the screen tone background that has circles of light.

The clouds pouring from Carmen’s ears filled the room with thick magmatic jealousy. The stifling heat in her face matched that of the sun.

“Alright! Here we go.” The waitress said while walking down the isle to the sun drenched table.

She held a large tray full of plates with different foods on them, and behind her followed yet another waitress carrying another tray with different foods. There were so many plates that their round edges spilled over the edge. The waitress explained that there were biscuits and sausage gravy, three different kinds of fried ham, fried tomatoes, hash browns, grits, oatmeal with and without raisins, waffles with caramelized pecans, and waffles without, eggs cooked three ways, syrup, buttered toast, and a pitcher of orange juice. Crystill thanked the waitresses for the feast, took a couple photos with them and then of the food to promote on her social media. When she finished she noticed that her sister had packed her purse and was already heading out of the front door without saying goodbye. She sent Carmen a text, asking what was wrong, but she didn’t reply. Without a hesitant breath, she looks around the restaurant, which was still full of curious onlookers. Her eyes meet the mother from before, who had not yet decided what to order for her and her son. Adopting a calm expression, she asks the mom and her son to join her at her table, and they spend the rest of their lunch together.

On the way back to the stage, Crystill attempts to call her sister again to no avail. It’s already about time to start the performance, so she strode up to the stage. Each step used the length of her leg, but was slow and deliberate. Each thump caused by her boots on the stage sounded like the pit of a pat of a heartbeat. She took her guitar from the stand it was resting on, and sat down on a tall stool. As she looked out into the small gathering of people, she saw some resting under trees, and some laid out with snacks on the lush grass. She saw the waitress and the boy from the restaurant, and waved a big wave to them, however she did not see her sister. The pang in her heart was heavy enough to sink a ship; at times like these, she will use ply wood to cover the holes and stop the leak. She will pull up the floorboards if she has to. Nevertheless, the show will go on.

Crystill spoke into her mic with a silvery voice to introduce herself and her music. With an inhale, she took in the excitement and uncertainty wafting up purple in the air. With her exhale she began strumming in a firm pattern of ups and downs. Her voice, slipping off stage melted into each chord she struck. The audience was awestruck.

On the evening went. She sang of strifes, she sang of bitter happiness, and of hopes for the future. After her encore, she packed her guitar, equipment, and left for her homely cabin.

She would be staying alone tonight, as her lovely sister could not bare to stay in such “squalor.” Instead, she had convinced the mayor to let her occupy an empty room in his three story estate. She was weak at the knees for the carved marble, and matching dual grand staircase in the grand foyer. The walk was a short one, as it was filled up with thought and prayer. As she walked into her cozy cabin, she made sure to prop the door open as she liked the breeze that flows through the storm door. She also made sure to crack some windows to allow in more of nature’s breath. The cabin was a comfortably sized rectangle not much larger than a hotel suite. In the center of the cabin was a soft sofa, and next to it was an end table presenting a landline. Now, alone once again, she picks up the landline to dial the extension to the room her sister is staying in.

“The number you have di-“

“click” Crystill hurriedly hung up and dialed the mayor’s extension thinking her sister may be in danger.

“ringgg rinnng” The phone barely rang at all before

“Hello, the mayor is indisposed right now, but may I take a message?”

Crystill recognized this voice as her sister’s and instantaneously, her concern turned to a raging sadness.

“You didn’t come to my show… where were you?”

“No good evening or anything, huh? I wonder even to this day why you are mom and dad’s favorite.”

“Now is not the time for this. Are you doing this to spite me?” Crystill asked confused.

“Why would I show up just to hear the same songs I heard at practice? The same songs that play in every coffee shop in the city.”

“Then why come at all? Crystill was stifling her tears. Her ship began taking on more water than she could handle.

“Because I wouldn’t hear the end of it from mom if I let my silly younger sister travel someplace by herself. You should’ve just let the band come with you.”

“Like I said, this was a last minute opportunity. I didn’t want to uproot them on a holiday. I told them they could go home.”

“I don’t really care about your reasoning. Is that all you called me for? If that’s all the-“

Crystill stopped her short.

“You love me right? I’ve had to reassure myself that you do so many times. Would you even care if you never saw me again?” She isn’t usually emotional like this, but for once she feels like Carmen needs to hear how she feels and needs to know that she cares.

*Sigh* “There’s no need to be so over dramatic. You always over analyze everything and start crying over nothing. Maybe if you weren’t such an attention seeker, I’d like you more.”

Carmen’s words were as cold as ice. The frosty air flowed sharply from her lips through the handset; cold enough to give Crystill chills. Crystill’s poor hull at this point had gaping tears where water poured in. The ship, ripped apart and without more wood to patch the holes, was now a mere remnant of history. Birthed into the raw air was Crystill’s heart. A warm beating muscle unknown to the elements. Long kept hidden away in a warm den, where it could not sustain any damage. The ship is done for, and the deeper it sank, the more pressure wrapped around her delicate heart. The fiendish grip of the ocean’s calloused and worn hands is no new experience for Crystill, for it was with them in mind that she built the protective ship, placard by placard. And once again born into pain she was.

“All I’ve wanted was your love.” Crystill said, barely holding her composure in a hug as if it were a falling tower of Jenga.

The silence weighed heavier on Crystill’s shoulders by the second. Holding back whimpers of affliction.

“I-“ She stopped to clear her throat, which had been filled with a constricting sorrow. Such feelings made her voice faint and crumbled.

“I’ve got to go.” She managed to say. Each word felt thick as they squeezed through the small confines of her throat. Without a second to waste, she hung the phone right back where it belonged. Mindlessly moving about her temporary home, her body swayed itself to the coffee table near the front door. There was a cup of something hot to drink, and a note that read, “Enjoy your stay. From the Mayor.”

But she couldn’t read that now. The cursive lettering to her looked like blurred blobs; very much unimportant to survive in the ocean’s waves. She picked up the dainty white cup and went to sit on the floor, to rest her back against the bed. Lost in a spiraling whirlpool of thoughts, she sat staring into the milky drink she held in her hands. The tsunami of hurtful memories splashed forcefully about her mind. One wave after the other landed hits that stung like a wasp. Crystill’s dull eyes moved down and saw her hard face reflected in the cup. Her drink had gone cold, so she stood up to warm it on the small stove range. A hollowed Crystill turned on the fire, and blankly poured her drink into the pot.

“Ah, now this cup is as empty as I am.” She thought.

“What was once brimming with meaning and fulness is now emptied at the hands of another.”

Before walking to the other end of this one room cabin, Crystill turned the flame down low. On the floor by a window are the bags she brought with her and from one of the three bags, she pulled out a black bound book. There was no writing on the cover, but it was clearly important. Though worn, all of the pages were neat and in place. On an empty page near the back of the book she neatly wrote her thoughts down, so that later they could become song lyrics. As she finished, feeling like she was being watched, she instinctively looked through the window. Her only neighbor was standing on his lawn blatantly staring in. Though she smiled and waved, he did not reciprocate her friendliness. Instead he walked about his yard. The man did not do anything in particular to make Crystill feel unsettled, however this scenery made her feel like she was in a horror movie. The sun has now set, the only outdoor light source came from the neighbor’s small yard lanterns. Maybe it was the lighting that gave this neighbor a scary look, or maybe he wanted to rid the planet of her. Either way, a freaked out Crystill hurriedly walked back to the other side of the cabin to pour her now hot drink back into its cup. She felt safer, but fear was creeping in on her with every second that passed. Slightly panicking she had to call someone. Anyone. Who else will fend off the bad guys other than her own sister? After all, she is the only person she truly knows in this town, the only person who’s number she has, and probably the only person who would pick up at this hour. She walks over to the telephone once again and this time sits on the sofa.

“She didn’t mean it.” She thought as she dialed that cursed number again.

“Maybe I should’ve let her talk instead of cutting her short like that. She could’ve said anything.”

Eventually her sister picks up the phone.

“What do you need?” She asks pleasantly.

“How did you know it was me?” Crystill asked suprised.

“Who else is calling this number in the dead of night?” Carmen said flatly.

“Hmm. Good point.” Crystill thought to herself.

After taking a sip of her drink to calm her nerves, she began to tell Carmen what was bothering her.

“No rest for the weary, I see. Is he still staring in now?” Carmen asked with a sigh.

Crystill stood up to look, and as she did, she saw the man already in his car, driving off while looking one last time.

“He’s leaving.” She said confused.

“There, see? It was nothing to worry about. By the way, Thomas wants to know how you like the welcome drink he left for you.”

“Oh, I’m drinking it now and it’s quite delicious.” Crystill said almost remembering happiness.

“I know right. I had him fetch one for me too. At least this is one thing that doesn’t totally reek of country side. I’ll tell him you said so.”

“Alright. Catch you tomorrow. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Yeah, sure. tomorrow… goodnight, Crys.” She said softly and full of emotion.

As they hung up the phone, Crystill couldn’t help but feel like she’s made progress. Carmen hadn’t called her that since their childhood days….

She had finished her drink about ten minutes ago while she was on the phone with her sister, and was now staring into oblivion on the sofa. The cup rested on the end table, however her mind relentlessly reminded her of embarrassing things that happened in the past. For her, it is one of those things that keep her up at night. Along with wondering if her stove at home is off and if the door is properly locked. Seemingly all of a sudden, she noticed that the room became unbearably hot. “Why am I sweating?” She wondered. Then, she heard cackling from the windows. She went to stand up to go see what it was, and fell into the floor with a painful thud. She couldn’t feel her legs. From the floor, she looked to the window and noticed flicks of fire creeping on her cabin. “A FIRE!” She thought. Immediately she started panicking. As she could still feel her arms, she managed to reach the landline on the table and began dragging it onto the floor. Fear tried to paralyze her, but with her life at stake, she managed to knock the phone down. CLANG! She put the phone to her ear, and held it there with her shoulder. Then with ease she could turn the base towards herself. She first dialed 911, however nothing happened. She dialed the two numbers she had for the Mayor’s home again, and once again nothing happened. Out of fear and frustration, she began to weep. The fire was growing stronger and hotter, while she grew weaker and sleepy. The fire broke the windows as it burned around it. They looked like portals to the underworld, but for once Crystill did not want to find out. She wept and thrashed about, mumbling anything that came to mind hoping to find a solution. This was like a puzzle, and she loved puzzles, but this one it seemed she could not solve. Oh how she wanted someone to come save her. The fire burned bright, and Crystill could hardly keep her eyes open. She dragged herself to the front door hoping to leave, knowing she locked the storm door and that it was too high for her to reach. The door was wrapped in flames, anyhow. Mentally, she was forcing her body to move accordingly. She was so focussed on not falling asleep where she lay that she didn’t notice her body had already resigned to an ironclad sleep. Her eyes delicately bounced open and shut until she couldn’t move again. If she were awake, she would’ve seen a figure with a shining firetruck pin dissipate into the darkness ahead. The flames engulfed her and every thought she could’ve had. In a way, she was released from this world.