Author's Note: This was my first piece! It doesn't seem to fit in with anything else I've written, honestly. It's also a bit awkwardly written, but the story itself is something I'm decently proud of!(Actually by yuyubabe/Deanna Coulton, but the cover was made as a random forum game thing for a random fantasy book. So, yeah. And then I guess I had to go and use it as an excuse to write something.)
This is kinda my first time posting here, so...here goes!
Air in the Stormsby
Dwight Harmison Deanna Coulton
There was no entry beyond a certain elevation of the tower; the approximate number of the height escapes Mitt's mind. This wasn't the only thing that evaded his memory: breakfast? Lunch? The words he had spoken to his mother that morning? Nothing of the sort returned to him, but he was sure that he ate
something and said
something to his mother.
Mitt's life consisted of a whole lot of “somethings”. In fact, everyday he would think: “today, I'm going to do something!” He could honestly never remember what it was that he was going to do that day, so oftentimes he would really just do nothing.
There was just one thing that always stuck with Mitt: the sky! It was always there, and never going to leave. The sky surely couldn't escape him, but he'd have to reach it first, right? He thought all of this as he looked upon the great tower, breathing heavily in anticipation: “today is the day that I'm going to reach the sky!” There would be no distractions, no forgetting, and certainly no rules in the sky!
Mitt rode the elevator all the way to the final stop: the “top floor”. Of course, he knew this wasn't the actual top of the tower – no, the top was much higher!
All his life had been a set of limitations, due to his condition. This time: Mitt wasn't going to let any more get in the way. “The sky's the limit,” he let out an almost creepy grin as he looked out a window.
When no one was around, he quietly slipped out of the window and let his feet balance on a small balcony (that was obviously not meant for human use). He might have scared away a couple of birds.
With a step here and a grip there, he began to make his way to the top of the tower: very, very slowly. His eyes fixed on the clouds that were pierced by the ongoing walls of the building he scaled.
A cold wind blew through his hair, and his lips chapped at the taste of it. To him, it was a welcoming kiss from the gales.
Pain wasn't his enemy. No, his foe was surely the world below. He didn't even want to look down, but it's not like he was afraid or anything of the like.
Mitt must have been climbing for hours. His muscles ached and breathing became a slight bit of a problem. How was he even still alive? Surely, even he didn't know the answer to that.
Finally, he found himself upon a small ledge to rest on. Looking up, he had to accept that there was no further that he could go. It's a shame, really. Mitt was beginning to really like actually getting somewhere and doing something.
Mitt took an hour or so to soak in the view of the clouds and the tiny buildings that made him feel like a giant. He tried his best to see mama's house, but it was small enough as it is. So, instead, he looked to the shopping mall and watched as all the little cars fought over parking spots. It's funny how petty and miniscule everything seemed from so high up in the sky.
Eventually, a dash of sorrow enveloped his heart: he couldn't stay there forever. Soon he would have to return home to his angry mama, and – well, honestly, he didn't know why he'd have to return – but he knew her wrath would be worse if he waited for too long. But he didn't want to go back. Why should he?
He wasn't sure and nothing made sense to him anymore. For all he knew, he wouldn't even remember the beautiful view of the tower, the fluffy clouds, and the wind playing with his hair.
The wind kissed his lips once more. This time, Mitt guessed that it was a good-bye kiss. He took a couple steps, until there were no more. In fact, any more steps would lead him right off the side of the ledge.
He took another step anyways.