Pain Of Change

• Alyssa Promnitz, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2022

Suffocating, I arch in attempt to grasp oxygen, but smog coagulates in my lungs. The person behind gnaws at my ankles. Of course, they have places to be, and reprieve is out of sight.

Weaving through an endless crowd, I try to keep up with the figure in front. My reason for being. A flowing bushfire mane singes the shoulders of a young women dressed in a lilac shirt, midnight drape and rose quartz harem. Keeping pace with the crowd, she seemingly slips out of view as she ducks into a shadowy alleyway. I know where she is going.

The place titled ‘home’. Inside she stands. Shuffling to the window, she travels to the ways of old; mixed in time. I wish to bolster her, but I don’t belong.

Waxen walls drift closer. Furniture is pushed; it squeals in protest. My legs stretch like a torture device is attached to my limbs. The new height allows for my physique to extend. Oh, why must she do this to herself?! I was once a hatchling but look at me now!

My vision blurs. A memory takes over. A sea of orange, and scarlet douse the dew-sprinkled grass. Silence… the silence that frees worries and welcomes tranquillity. Bathing in the warmth lays a cattle dog. His chin is propped on her bare feet, which are coated in a blanket of drool. I know this all too well. This is where I am from, and the reason I crystallized.

The peaceful surroundings fade to reality. The pain of the past travels her cheeks. I extend some more, and a thud echoes as I hit the roof. Collapsing, there is little room left. Closer and closer I get to her.

Transfixed to her pain, I grow some more until I embrace her. Cold like ice, she draws what warmth I have.

“No! I can’t do this! I regret everything!” Falling into the shadows of me, I consume her. I don’t want too, but I can’t help who I am.

“You miss Rusty, the paragon sunrises, the feel of freshly cut grass weeded between your toes, the refreshing air and your old home will all its simplicity; but there is always going to be change. Make the most of what you have now so you can be happy!” Just if she can hear me.

Letting my eyelids drop, my vision goes dark. Goosebumps sweep over me. Kaleidoscopes of sparks swirl around, heat burning through my weightless flesh. My body shrinks until I am the size of the girl. Heat radiates from her, our flames joining in symphony.

Tilting her head, her gaze stops on me. Delicate fingers sweep over what would be a cheek if I was like them. Her lips part, but no noise escapes. However, I know what she said.

Thank you.

Like a shadow, I am everywhere. Nobody notices, but she knows I am here, and she knows that acceptance is the only way to live with me - Nostalgia.