The skies start showing signs of fatigue in yawns of pink and purple hues, and Alia groggily steps out of the butt-shaped spot that she left imprinted on the grassy lawn. She navigates her way back home, trekking the familiar sandy path to the soundtrack of birds and insects, their whistles a gentle hum to her ears. [break][break]

She arrives home, the cream cobblestone and rustic wooden door a heartwarming sight. Only those that know where to look would find the fainted scribbles of cavemen and yampers on the side of the house, remains of a long-lost childhood. [break][break]

Alia pushes the door open, immediately greeted by the comforting aroma of hotpot and tofu stew. “Mom?” she calls out, positively surprised by the presence of the older woman. It was rare for her mother to be around for dinner, often working night shifts to make ends meet. Dinner was always alia’s task, where she cooked up simple homey meals for her and her sister. Hotpot? It was almost always reserved for holiday occasions.[break][break]

“Hi, honey,” the older woman responds from her spot in the nook, gingerly placing a generous steaming pot of soothing elixir onto their humble dining table. Besides the chestnut brown hair, she was nearly the split image of Alia, her eyes crinkling in all the same ways and a single dimple concave in her left cheek. [break][break]

Alia quickly drops her purse on the couch and joins her mother, pressing a gentle kiss on the older woman’s cheek before stepping into the kitchen to grab their dishware. “What are you doing here tonight? I thought you had work.” she asks, a perplexed look filling her features. She picks up three sets of cutlery, dropping them on their respective placemats.[break][break]

“The restaurant closed early today because of a plumbing issue.” her mother responds, a tired smile across her lips. The long hours were getting to her again, Alia realizes, a frown replacing her earlier smile. “It’s getting cold, so I thought it was a good day to have some hotpot. Get your sister, will you?” [break][break]

Within minutes, the family of three is seated at the table, heart warm and fuzzy from both the aromatic sizzling stew and precious familial moment. An assortment of ingredients sprawls across the table, whispering sweet promises of savory umami goodness. Soon, thin slices of beef and slowpoke tails are dipped into fragrant spices before they melt on the tongue, grounded by the earthy notes of mushrooms and taro. Tastebuds are reset with the refreshing tang of green and red veggies, and then this flavorful adventure gets to cycle again and again until plates are wiped clean.[break][break]

Alia smiles over the sizzling steam, partaking in the easy dinner-table conversation in between bites. Intimate times spent as an entire family were so rare, and she desperately wishes that this was one of the pockets of time that she could cradle in her palms til infinity. To imprint these memories into the crevices of her brain, to tattoo them on the tapestry of her tanned skin. [break][break]

“I’m so glad that you got to come home today,” she says softly, suddenly. Bourbon honey brown pools stare intently at the two people that matter to her most, their hazy silhouettes fading in and out of this dream that alia desperately wishes was true. As the dream threatens to fade at the edges, she frantically claws for the shards of memories that she has left of her mother and sister, attempting to piece it back together. The foggy fragments smile at her, their warmth pooling into alia and building her up, up, and up, along with the wispy steam that permeated their cozy home.[break][break]

+ @tag     [break]

+ theme family [break]
+ word count 626 [break]
+ sleep score 400[break]
+ notes mentioned mega evolution for bewitching brews [break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

The cozy happiness was all too fleeting as the humble dining room dissipated with the smoky wisps of hotpot steam. A vignetted hospital backdrop is woven in its place, and Alia blinks in confusion as she transports into a room of sterile walls, quiet murmurs rumbling in the background. Some voices drip with joy while others are tainted with the poison of bad news. [break][break]

She knew about the latter all too well.[break][break]

Her mother was no longer in the picture, but her sister sat next to her still. The earlier joy that brought a simmering warmth to the girl’s usual pale complexion has long fizzled out, the icy claws of her chronic disease reacquiring their grip on her body. The crushing exhaustion was one sight that Alia didn’t miss, the only reason she had been secretly relieved by her sister’s passing in the real world. [break][break]

The nurse comes out and calls her sister’s name, and the two girls are ushered into the doctor’s office. It was a familiar routine, and Alia waits for the same grim looks and updates of how they still haven’t found a match. [break][break]

When the doctor enters the room, however, Alia feels a shift from his usual disposition. There were less lines pressed in his usual sunken temples, and he walks in like he no longer bore the weight of the world. Alia holds her breath. Hope starts to feel more like the rising sun than a dying star. [break][break]

“We found a match for your sister.”[break][break]

This time, sunshine spills from his lips, washing the desolate room in golden light. As Alia turns to hug her sister tight, she feels the tears pooling and escaping her, streaming freely down her cheeks as she releases the breath she had held.[break][break]

Her sister was going to be okay.
[break][break]

+ theme good ending [break]
+ word count 300 [break]
+ sleep score 600[break]

“Why don’t you draw anymore?” [break][break]

The question strikes in the hospital room like lightning, its impact apparent in the way Alia pauses mid-task. Her sister’s heart surgery had been a success, but they had a couple more days to go before they were given the all-clear. Up until now, Alia had felt like she was dancing in clouds, but the casual question pulled her back into reality.[break][break]

She shrugs dismissively, handing one of the glasses of water to her sister. The younger girl is propped up on the hospital bed, golden eyes unwavering as she waits for an answer. “Oh, I don’t know. Life got busy, you know?” she says, hoping that it was satisfying enough of a response.[break][break]

Amber studies her quietly, an unusual persistence in her features. Alia had forgotten how stubborn and fiery the younger girl could get, before her sickness bore its weight on her. “Sure,” she responds. “But I’ll be getting better, so you won’t be as busy anymore. Maybe you can pick it back up again.”[break][break]

“Yeah, maybe.” Alia laughs, glazing over the topic. To her relief, Amber doesn’t push it any further, and shortly after the two sisters were back watching old episodes of New Girl.[break][break]

The question lingers with her, however, and follows her back home that night. It sits near her feet as she washes the dishes, curls up next to her on the couch, and clings to her shoulders as she settles in bed. She tries ignoring its presence and then tries batting it away, but ultimately ends up on her bedroom floor, flipping through old sketchbooks and canvases.[break][break]

Vibrant splashes of lapis and emerald and sunshine flood her vision. They bleed and form hazy landscapes and nostalgic memories, proof of an artistic spark that has since fizzled out. Alia sucks in a breath.[break][break]

She wanted nothing more but to create like that again.[break][break]

Picking up the brush had always been easier said than done, however. As she reaches for her brush, Alia anticipates the familiar claws of dread. She waits for them to lock her in a chokehold before she could even place the first stroke on the canvas. It has always been this way. It always will.[break][break]

But to her surprise, the suffocation doesn’t come.[break][break]

She exhales slowly, and then dresses the bristles in well-loved sunshine. She shakily swipes the brush across the pristine canvas.[break][break]

They still don’t come.[break][break]

Perhaps the flame hasn’t been lost after all.

[break][break]

+ theme aspirations [break]
+ word count 421 [break]
+ sleep score 800[break]
+ post to be revisited....brain juice depleted[break]

Nurturing a flame is no easy feat, but Alia couldn’t find an excuse to let it dwindle any longer. [break][break]

Life has been good, almost too good, since her sister’s left the hospital. The dark circles below her mother’s eyes faded significantly, the smiles on Amber’s face grew more frequent, and even their family Growlithe’s barks seemed chippier. Everyone was flourishing and moving on, except for her.[break][break]

Only Alia’s feet were glued to the same spot, running forward with no avail.[break][break]

Alia should feel happy that everyone she loved was doing so well. For the last ten years, it had been her wish to every birthday candle, every shooting star.[break][break]

The thing about voids, however, is that they are never filled by patching up other holes. It was so easy to hide behind the gaps in her family’s shaky foundations and ignore the ones that concaved deep in her own flesh, and just as easy to hide behind her sister’s death. There had to be something she could’ve done, or do better, as if fixing all the misdoings of this world would alleviate her and her family’s pain. [break][break]

But now, even when Alia has everything she has ever dreamed of (ha!), she still feels the aching pits of her soul. All the patching up ever did was make her a doppelganger in her own life. [break][break]

So what can she blame now, now that she has nothing left to blame?[break][break] 

The faint ember sitting in her ribs starts to crackle and sputter as Alia finally turns to acknowledge herself. It was never just your environment, your responsibilities. All this time, you held yourself back, an unfamiliar voice whispers in her ear.[break][break]

The realization akin to gasoline, the flame roars and soars into the air. Look at me! It seems to say as it threatens to permeate outside of her skeleton. Look at what I can do! [break][break]

This time, Alia can’t ignore the flames that simmered inside her, not when it dances and sings and fights for her attention the way that it is now.[break][break]

This time, she gives in, hands parting her ribs to let the fire escape and illuminate the world around her, the way that it has always wanted to.[break][break]

This time, she’s a little less afraid about getting burned.

[break][break]

+ theme stepping up [break]
+ word count 391 [break]
+ sleep score 1000![break]