papercup
The little girl in the blue dress with duck-shaped polka dots watched the balloon rise into the atmosphere. She didn't feel anyone around her, but knew she had an audience. They hid in bushes, under trees, even sometimes in plain sight, if you had the Sight. She didn't have the Sight, but her brother had told her stories, fairy tales of ancient times past, and some family legends. Mom said not to believe, that he was just trying to scare her, but she felt them, and she knew.
I've lost you in the stacks, we were here to research for our Classics class, but now I've gone haywire and I can't find you. The panic comes, settles in, and stays, and as usual you're not here to hold my hand and tell me it'll be okay. I wonder if I'm a bother to you, I really do, because I think I might be. I think you've escaped just in time. You're over in romance, I see, and you're risking your heart for another's because mine wasn't stable enough.
I climbed over the bridge to find out how well the structure would hold. It didn't, and when I fell, it was through centuries of pain and fear. I wasn't sure what to make of the feeling, of the absolute turmoil I felt as I fell; I thought it must have been a dream. What else could have explained this? It's not as though I was living inside an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.