All of us ficleteers gathered in the clearing, celebrating our last days on this site. Later, we would go back to the cottage for food and drink, as well as reminiscing on old times.

Remember when Kevin first created ficlets? Or when SaveTheUnicorns posted the first chapter of “Residing Dreams”, a story that expanded to over 200 chapters long? One could never forget BernerO’s series which had gained an extreme amount of popularity.  “Local Gay Boy” it was titled, and was written in such a clean cut, open minded way. Recall when Blusparrow became one of the most active authors on the site? And Mistress Elsha’s timeless and insightful wisdom?

These weren’t even a fraction of the memories shared on ficlets. In the clearing, I sighed as I looked upon the faces of my fellow writers. I saw the great trepidation etched on their faces. I stood beside BernerO and Elsha, two ficleteers who had impacted my life the most. As my eyes drifted around the circle, I wished that I had discovered ficlets sooner. Even so, it still would’ve come to this.

 

In the middle of us stood a time capsule, filled with our most precious stories, as well as our pieces of inspiration and character attribute webs. We put in our former ink pens, which had been used to write countless rough drafts.

Afterwards, we were each presented with golden pencil pendants which had our names engraved on them. I looked at mine with a mix of pleasure and pain, the bitter sweetness filling the air.

SaveTheUnicorns.

Three words, all put together, that would always reside in a part of me. After all, it was my name.

“So, what of us now?” g2 (la pianista irlandesa) asked, as all of us were wondering.

“We shall never cease to write,” I replied then and there.

“Indeed so,” Freedom agreed.

We decided to go inside, as the sky looked ominous. All of us crammed into the tiny cottage one by one; walking through the wooden door. “Ficlets Writing Shack” was engraved on a bronze nameplate. To the surprise of many, once we all entered the structure, there was plenty of room for all of us.

 

Practically all of the ficleteers were there, many of whom I knew. I recognized:

Mistress Elsha Hawk, BernerOberland,  OrangeOreos, Writer4Life00nj, Bartimaeus, NightMaiden, THX 0477, S. Lynn, Punkin, Yujji, Ezzie, burberry714, Wyatt Aapr, Warmheart, Dreamt of Turquoise, Laine the Grey, keepbreathing, A Joker, Stovohobo, Smile4life!, J.C. Shaley, brian w, Charles Andrew Bates, Definate Disaster, Mighty-Joe Young, Storykeeper of Fae, Apocalypse, Mask By The Moon, Jenunique, John Perkins, Nouvelle Bardot, Justin Dack, Living In Wonder Land ♠, BrownEyedGirl, wytherwings, Blusparrow, (:Shay:)luvs_ashleyparkerangel:), Twitch, g2 (la pianista irlandesa), illusionistic, More Than Meets The Eyes, Mystiquee, More Ways Than One, LovingYourHeartbreak♥, Mr.Everland Prosparo, band geek, Shiloh, Artist_Girl, Random Banana, jinn, Never Explain, penguincaptain18, Mackizme, lovinglife307, James Darkfold, lena, ACORN, llamaluvsmenotu, Freedom, THX 0477 , .:band baby:. , ALRO613 ♪ LoA ♫, N555champ /\and/\ X-Ninja , Whinney, Momiji-chan, Six Feet Under The Stars , Music-Hearted, FlirtingWithaBrickWall, smarty101, howhardlifeis,BrokenAngel, AwkwardlyReversed, Disturbed Youth, moonlight_girl, Holdini, Mr.Gabriel, canadianwriter, Charlotte Scriversi, Raymond Finn, Saint Chuck, someday_93, Ana Christina, Emmyful, thebetweenspace, Kermitgorf, and still several others.

It intrigued me how each person had their own individual name, despite the fact that there were so many of us.

We socialized in the dining room, where a table set for a banquet stood. Some ficleteers explored other parts of the house; venturing upstairs or watching home videos in the living room. Others visited the library, which consisted of every story ever written in the history of ficlets. I chatted with Elsha, whom I hadn’t talked to in a while, and I promised BernerO that we would continue our series together.

I gazed upon the giant cloth banner that said in jovial yet wistful letters (if such a thing was possible) “Ficlets Final Farewell Party.” I felt my eyes flood with tears suddenly, as did many others. It was the first time I had cried, and it felt right.

“It’s okay to cry!”.:band baby:. declared. She comforted each person who wept, which was pretty much half the ficleteers present. Afterwards, everyone exchanged addresses, emails, and screen names. We promised to keep in touch, no matter what.

When the cake was brought out by some of the writers, all of the fervent ficleteers cheered. “Long live ficlets!” they shouted. “And long live the power of the pen!” I added. Many seconded that statement in agreement.

My pencil pendant shone proudly in the sun that came through the window. The cake was made to look like the ficlets home page, consisting of the colors black, grey, yellow, white, and a little bit of orange and blue. It was perfect, even though I saw the sad reminder of “Ficlets is going away soon :(” across the top. I tried to be strong for all of my fellow ficleteers.

Finally, I noticed the gold pencil pendant in the middle of the cake. In strong, defining letters was engraved: “Kevin Lawver, Creator of Ficlets.”

 

Suddenly, I heard a sound coming from the living room. There was someone coming through the door. Then, all was silent. Everyone froze as a tall man with a familiar face walked into the dining room.

“It’s him!” we gasped. There, right in front of us, stood Kevin Lawver.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” lovinglife307 squealed. No one else could, either.

Mr. Lawver greeted us, and then was silent. I noticed right away he held a book in his hand, bound in deep red leather. I was standing at an angle so that I could see. On the spine, engraved in silver letters were the words, “My Beloved Ficlets Family.”

I was breathless.

 

Then, he spoke again. “All of your names,” he began, clearing his throat, “are in this here book.” He held it up so everyone could see. Kevin Lawver flipped through a few of the pages. It was an amazing feeling knowing that I was a part of something so special.

 

 Suddenly, a flying squirrel came gliding through the kitchen. It carried another book, except this one had a green cover. It was smaller, yet thicker than the first.

Mr. Lawver politely thanked the squirrel and held up the second book. “In this book are the names of each and every one of the characters you’ve created. And trust me, the sum far exceeds 1024,” he explained. Many laughed at his small joke.

Several people had so many questions to ask Kevin Lawver; all of which were heard in an almost incomprehensible jumble of words. One part that I could make out was, “Is there anything you can do to save ficlets? What about AOL? How could they let this happen?”

Mr. Lawver put his hands up, signaling for them to quiet down. “What we could do has been done, and we have only but to hope for the best. When one door closes, another one opens,” he replied intently.

The last sentence he said reminded me of a ficlet I had written titled “When One Door Closes.”

“But I understand how you guys feel,” Mr. Lawver went on.  “Life can give you lemons, and sometimes all you want to do is throw them at people who have caused you distress. If you want to throw citrus fruit at me, then do it now or forever hold your peace,” Mr. Lawver chuckled.

“But always remember that it is much more productive to make lemonade. Now, joking aside, I have a few visitors who would like to see you. You may be familiar with them. I am sorry to say that only a few of them were able to be present here at such short notice. Nevertheless, I believe that you will find their presence to be quite intriguing,” Kevin Lawver said with a wink.

We ficleteers nodded in approval. “What do you think the surprise could be?” someday_93 asked. The others shrugged. We had no idea.

Just then, there was a growling noise, and a small walking object emerged from the living room. It stood on two little legs, and it had sharp teeth. Why did it seem so familiar? Then, I realized that it was the evil piece of toast from BernerO’s ficlet!

It came right up to Mr. Lawver and bit him in the ankle. “AHHHH!” he cried.

“BernerO, why did you write that story?” I asked. He shrugged.

“I thought it would be fun, but now I’m worried about it eating people!” he said.

“How did you stop it in your story?” illusionistic asked frantically.

“I..I..I put it in the toaster oven!” BernerO responded.

“Well, do that now!” I cried.

“Somebody, get the toaster oven!” Apocalypse yelled.

Then, lena quickly found a toaster oven and trapped the evil toast inside of it. After the ordeal, Kevin Lawver looked somewhat flustered, but he proceeded.

“Well, that sure was a doozy!” he replied sarcastically. “Anyways, I didn’t know that guy was coming. All of the other visitors will be quite friendly, I promise.”

Kermitgorf got the man a bandage for his ankle.

“Well,” Kevin Lawver went on, “I’ll call them in right now. Guys! The writers are here to see you! Come out and say hello!” he said from behind him.

Through the doorway, the awaited visitors came.

 

There were about ten or so people, some of whom I recognized right away. There was a man in a white coat and glasses, who was Dr. Telesfore. Following him was Nathaniel, who had dark hair and newly blue eyes. They were from Bartimaeus’s ficlet series, titled “Help Me”.  It had truly captivated me so much.

Next, I recognized Charlie and Wendy, from Mistress Elsha Hawk’s and ALRO613 ♪ LoA ♫’s “Arsonist” series. They held hands and waved to the ficleteers. There was also Devon, a girl from another one of Elsha’s series. Her curly hair bounced up and down as she excitedly skipped into the dining room.

Then, I saw Minnie wheel in. She had a determined expression on her face. She didn’t let the fact that she couldn’t walk stop her from coming here today. That realization truly moved me as she skillfully maneuvered her wheelchair around the room. She was a character from a series written by NightMaiden and .:band baby:..
I couldn’t wait to see who else was here.

 

            “Hold on, folks, there’s still more coming,” Kevin said, as everyone greeted and got acquainted with the characters.

“Who else is there?” Storykeeper of Fae asked. “I can’t wait to see!”

When Seth and Sam came in, my heart started pounding. Here they were! The characters from one of the most beloved series on ficlets, “Local Gay Boy.” I couldn’t help but to let out a loud shriek of zeal. It was almost like seeing the Jonas Brothers.

“Oh..my..God! It’s them! It’s really them!” I cried. I turned to my friend BernerO, who was breathless. He stood there in shock. I gave him a big hug.

“Our characters…your characters. Can you believe it? They’re standing right before our eyes. Let’s go and say hi! I bet they’re awesome! No, I know they are awesome!” I said, jumping up and down. BernerO grinned. “Okay,” he said. Then we ran up to talk to Seth and Sam.

 

They were holding hands and held their heads up high, not caring what other people thought.  Seth and Sam were just as I had imagined them. Seth was “slim, dark haired, and short,” just as BernerO had described him in the first chapter of “Local Gay Boy.” His pale skin was a contrast to Sam’s, which was tan. Sam was blonde, and he was more built than Seth, but also thin. They made a beautiful couple. I held back tears.

“So what have you guys been up to?” Sam asked.

“Oh, nothing much,” BernerO replied. “Just mourning the shutting down of ficlets.”

 “Yeah, I heard about that,” Seth chimed in. “We’ll really miss you guys,” he finished.

 “And BernerO and I will truly miss you too. You guys totally opened my eyes. I love you both so much. Like brothers,” I said. I was beginning to tear up. Sam gave me a tissue from his pocket.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“But it’s not good bye forever, I swear,” BernerO told them. “I’ll try to finish the story in time, and if I don’t…well, you guys will still live on inside of me.”

 

Then, I heard a voice from behind them. It was sweet and true and familiar, but not quite my own.

“Perpetually, eternally; always and forever.”

Suddenly, I knew what it was. Or, rather, who. Lo and behold, in walked two of the characters which had acquired such a deep closeness to my heart. I had created them from the beginning, and they were meant to be a part of me. In truth, they were so much more. They practically were me. I practically was them.

Upon laying my eyes on them, I was more breathless than I was when I saw Seth and Sam for the first time. Could it be? Or was it merely an illusion? There, right in front of my eyes, in front of my soul, were Essie Miracle and Casimir Chrysanthemum. They were from the series I had written on ficlets, with me and myself. “Residing Dreams” it was called.

It was spectacular beyond explanation to see them come to life in front of me. Now I knew how BernerO must have felt. It took me several minutes to recover from the shock, but when I did, I was immensely ecstatic.

Essie looked almost exactly like me. We could have been twins, or at least sisters. However, she looked about a year or so younger than myself, and her clothes looked like they were from some decades back. She wore a long flowing skirt and a peasant blouse. Her face glowed with radiance. Seeing Essie was like looking into a mirror. I was afraid that she was a ghost, since I knew she was technically a product of my imagination. Somehow, I managed to push that thought aside and meet her gaze.

“I am so pleased to meet you at last,” she said, extending her hand. My throat was dry. I couldn’t speak at first.

“I never knew you were truly real,” I began, in disbelief.

“I live inside of you, just as Seth and Sam live inside of BernerO. I reside in your dreams, and you propel my dreams. We are so much alike, because we are so similar in essence. Though sometimes my story writes itself, without you, it would have no origin,” Essie explained. Her eloquence and kindness amazed me, but at the same time, I knew of it all along.

 

 

I had almost forgotten Casimir, who was standing behind Essie. When I finally looked at him, my heart fluttered and I blushed. It was the same thing that happened every time I saw a cute boy. Except this time, I knew the soul and story behind the face – after all, I had taken part in writing it. That made my heart beat all the more louder, and my face feel all the more redder. Nevertheless, it was in a good way.

Evidently, Essie and I had the same taste in guys. Casimir was exactly the handsome boy that I had envisioned. He was very thin, but his figure somehow looked different than Seth or Sam. His hair was a light brown, but he had dark natural highlights. And Casimir’s eyes…oh, his eyes. They were big and beautiful, but I still couldn’t name the color. Ironically, though appropriately fitting, I felt as if I were residing in a dream. Or that dreams were residing all around me. At the moment, I couldn’t tell which.

 

 

BernerO, Seth, Sam, Essie, Casimir, and I all sat down at one of the smaller tables surrounding the huge rectangular one. I could hear the light rain pounding outside on the shutters. We all looked at one another for a moment, but said nothing. This time, I was the first person to speak up.

“So, how’s Pleasantville?” I asked Essie.

“Pleasantville was wonderful, it truly was. It was always my home. But, well, you know. When things started to be too hard to deal with, I left for the summer. And I still haven’t really been back,” Essie explained.

I knew what she meant about leaving, but I didn’t understand the last thing she said. How had she not really been back? It didn’t seem possible. She either was or she wasn’t.

 
“How did you know to come here?” I asked.

 
“I was summoned in a dream,” she explained.

“I think it was Kevin Lawver, but I’m not sure. It was just something that asked me to come this gathering. And I said yes, so I was brought here. But I didn’t come here right away,” Essie went on.

I was more mystified than ever. “Where did you go to?” I inquired.

Essie had a far-off expression on her face. “It’s hard to explain. But after a while, I started floating. Like a spirit. I floated out of my room in the house I was staying at, and above London. Then, I was floating above Pleasantville.”
My eyes widened, and I motioned for her to continue.
            “But it felt like a dream. It didn’t seem real, and I felt as if I would wake up at any moment. But I didn’t. I felt very excited, yet tranquil at the same time. Then, everything faded into a beautiful mist. But I don’t quite remember what happened after that. The next thing I recall is being in woods about a mile or so away from the clearing you and the other ficleteers were in. Mr. Lawver was there, and Casimir was beside me. He rubbed his eyes, for he was still sleepy,” Essie told us.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to be up at the crack of dawn,” Casimir commented. It was the first time I heard him speak.

“I think it would be pretty cool to be floating above my town. It would be like flying in an airplane, except better,” BernerO said.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, dude! Then I could totally drop a giant water balloon on Brett’s head!” Seth laughed. I knew he wasn’t very fond of his mom’s perverted boyfriend, and I couldn’t blame him.

“Anyways,” Essie continued, “All of these other characters were there, too. Then Mr. Lawver told us where we were and why we were here. He explained how ficlets was closing, and how he wanted to make it up to you guys. So he tried to tell all of us to come. He led us to the clearing, and we snuck through the back door of the cottage. And now we are here,” Essie finished.

I nodded, in awe of everything. “So you finally got your father to open up, huh?” I said, changing the subject. Essie smiled.

“Yes, I guess you could say that. It was about time!” she declared.

“Sorry he couldn’t be here today,” Casimir spoke up. As he looked into my eyes, I felt a strange yet wonderful emotion that I couldn’t explain. It was both captivating and baffling at the same time, and I felt compelled to speak to him. I knew the story that lay behind his indescribable eyes; a tale which consisted of darkness warmed by light.  I wanted to reach out and touch him, to see if he was truly there. I thought of doing this, but then decided against it.

A loud silence pervaded the atmosphere once again. “He’s been away. Lord knows where he’s been. But I know that he loves me, which is what counts,” Essie concluded. Casimir squeezed her hand. She was so lucky to be with him.

“God, I still can’t think of exactly where he’s been,” I said, trying to smile. “But I promise you guys will be reunited. He’ll be so happy to see you,” I assured Essie.

“What about me, then? I doubt my story shall end happily. I have no sunshine to return to, other than the sunshine Essie has brought. I want something to hope for, too,” Casimir persisted.

He really put me on the spot. Casimir had a quaint way of being rude, polite, poignant, and intent all at the same time.

“This isn’t about endings. It is about continuations,” I told him. He said nothing.

“This kinda reminds me of a soap opera. I really ought to read the story you guys are from. What’s it called?” Sam asked, lightheartedly. 

“Residing Dreams,” I replied.

“What of the story that you are a character in? What is it about?” Casimir asked Seth and Sam curiously.

“Well, long story short,” BernerO began, “it’s about a boy named Seth who’s gay. Then he meets Sam, who is also gay. They fall in love. Sam’s dad died, and now his mom has a wacko boyfriend who is a total jerk. Seth and Sam help each other through the hard times,” he explained.

Essie’s face was glowing with interest and amazement. “Wow! I didn’t know that…I thought I was…well, God bless you both. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t tell anyone else about this, but a lot of crazy things have happened today. So one more isn’t going to hurt anything,” she started to say. Her voice got lower. “Well, I’m not, but my father, he is,” she whispered.

Sam grinned. “That’s quite alright, my friend. Around here, we don’t need to keep these kinds of things secret,” he told her.

“What time period do you reside in? I presume it may be a few decades ahead of us. I reckon that people have evolved more, perhaps, in the world. Or at least Essie and I hope so,” Casimir said intently.

“We’re in the present day,” Seth said. “Good ‘ol 2008.”

“We’re living in 1989,” Essie replied. “You guys are,” she counted on her fingers, “19 years ahead of us.”

 

“Well, there’s a lot that you guys have to look forward to. Computers, cell phones, iPods, and… a bit more tolerance. After all, a lot can change in nearly two decades,” BernerO said, with a good-natured positivity.

“I’m glad of that,” Essie replied, smiling.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s eat! I’m starved!” Sam declared.

At the table, we continued to chatter amiably over supper. We all talked as if we had known each other for years. In way, I believed we had. Essie had always been a part of me. We mingled with some of the other characters as well, and I met a few new ones.

But I knew that something was unsettled. I stared at Casimir’s empty plate, and that was all the evidence I needed. He was too skinny. Curse me for being so in love with scrawny guys. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me as I remembered why I had created Casimir’s character in the beginning. I wanted to fall in love with him and be with him. Essie symbolized me, and Casimir was meant to be the broken boy who she changed. The one who finally saw the sunshine because he had found love. And she had shown him affection that softened him. But maybe that wasn’t enough.

I realized right then and there that I didn’t have all of the answers. I wrote flowery words of wisdom and an emotionally charged tale, but would there really be a resolution in the end? I believed in happy endings, and I was not so cruel as to laugh at heartrending suffering. Then why couldn’t I do more? Why couldn’t I save my own characters?

I knew that Casimir suffered from anorexia and bulimia in Residing Dreams. One could gather this from the looks of him. I couldn’t just let him not eat anything!

“Uh, Casimir, aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want to eat something? The food is really good. You’re a growing boy,” I said to him, trying to sound as casual as possible. His gaze penetrated into mine once more, in a way that made me squirm. It wasn’t because he frightened me, but because he intrigued me. Now, however, he worried me.

The handsome boy sighed deeply. “Thanks for asking. But I’m fine. I swear. I’m a picky eater. I brought vitamins along, anyhow,” he replied. Essie’s eyes soon showed deep concern as she heard what we were saying.

I saw her whisper something to him, and I believed it was a dose of tough love. She sounded caring yet dignified, and this was something I admired greatly. I strained my ears to hear what she was saying, and I could make out a bit of it. “…don’t hide. …I worry when…you are this way. …Listen, she knows. …There’s no sense hiding anything from her, because I deem she knows you just about as well as I do. …I won’t let you wallow in self pity and hurt yourself again.”

Her words must’ve had an impact on him, because after Essie was finished speaking to Casimir, he got up and put some vegetables on his plate. To Essie’s thankfulness, as well as to mine, he finished almost all of the food on his plate. He looked more satisfied after he finished, and he opened up a bit more to his company. Essie and I exchanged a look of understanding, and I knew that she was proud of him for his small victory. Even so, there was still a long way to go. 

 

In the middle of dinner, Kevin Lawver tapped on his glass and made an announcement. “Attention, my fellow ficleteers. In honor of our farewell celebration, I have arranged for a special guest singer to perform for us. The singer is in this very room,” he said, looked around. My heart pounded. Who could it be? “Their name is…SaveTheUnicorns,” Kevin said. Just then, he shone a flashlight on me. My whole body trembled. What was I going to do?

After some encouraging cheers, I self-consciously got up from my seat. I was as nervous as ever. “There she is,” Mr. Lawver said, with a smile. “Yes, here I am,” I echoed.

“Now,” he said, turning back to the crowd, “this girl is going to sing the Judy Garland version of the song, ‘If I Forget You.’ The lyrics were written by Irving Caesar. This song is a tribute to ficlets, and all that it has done for us. Ficlets, we will never forget you, even after you are gone,” Kevin finished.

I prepared myself to sing. Could I remember the words? This song had meant so much to me, more than because it had to do with ficlets closing. Whenever I heard Judy Garland sing “If I Forget You,” I would always think of my grandfather who passed away in June of 2008. He had meant so much to me, and my life would never be the same again after he died. I’ll do this for Poppa, I told myself.  I looked at Essie, who gave me a thumbs-up. “You can do it!” she said from her seat.

Suddenly, music started to play from an old record player. I thought back to all of the times I watched recordings of Judy Garland’s performances on YouTube. A few seconds into that moment, everything felt right. I felt as if I were in a dream, floating around, just as Essie had described. Except now, my feet were planted firmly into the ground, and I acknowledged the avid audience sitting before me. It was like I was here, at the going-away party, but somewhere else entirely at the same time. As I sang the melodious words of Judy Garland’s song, I travelled back to my grandfather’s apartment. We had a going-away party for him, too, before he went to stay at a nursing home in Missouri. Everyone dies, I told myself. But those who are lucky get to live.

“Let each forsaken heart forget that it must beat, old friend. If we forget…if we forget—you…” To my astonishment, halfway through the song, I heard another voice singing along with me. It was sweet and pure, and it was the same one who had spoken the words, “Perpetually, eternally; always and forever.” I turned around to find Essie Miracle singing, her soft voice in harmony with mine. She was standing up, with her hand on her heart.

I felt comforted by the unforgettable music which soothed my soul. Towards the very end, a few others joined in for the chorus. As I sang the last note and the music faded, the room was silent. No one spoke, and I doubt there was a dry eye in the house.

I reckoned that in the midst of mourning over the shutting down of ficlets, the writers were also reflecting on loved ones that they had lost. After all, everyone had memories. When these minutes had passed, all I could hear were the cheers and whistles of my fellow ficleteers. I wasn’t sure, but I could’ve sworn that Mr. Kevin Lawver was crying. I carefully walked back to my table, where I was greeted with open arms. A number of others came up and congratulated me, Essie, or both of us. “You conveyed the message so well. This time, it wasn’t only through words, but through music as well,” Mistress Elsha Hawk said to me.

Then, I started to cry like a raging river. I couldn’t stop the tears from coming, no matter what. Essie gave me a big hug and patted my shoulder. “You were wonderful,” she whispered. “You made everyone’s day so special. Now they’ll never forget it. We don’t really have the Internet where I’m from, but…I have a feeling you left a positive mark on www.ficlets.com which will never be forgotten.”

She handed me a blue striped handkerchief with which I dried my eyes. I recognized it as the same one which led her to Casimir, when she found it in the library of his house. I cleaned it and gave it back to her, for I had a feeling that Essie or Casimir would need it in the future. There would always be more tears to shed.

“That was so awesome, wasn’t it, guys?” BernerO declared, giving me a high five and patting me on the back.

“It brought back memories of my dad,” Seth said quietly.

We nodded sympathetically in silence.

“Yeah. I know how you feel. The song made me remember my mother. It was so long ago, but I guess the strongest reminiscences reside for the longest,” Casimir added.

“Your right,” I agreed. “That’s the truth if I ever heard it.”

A few people bowed their heads and said prayers, whether to thank God for this day or make them remember it forever. I prayed for the same thing I always did—for a better tomorrow, and for the storm to be over. The sky was still dark outside, as it had been for a while.

“I want you guys to stay forever,” I said solemnly. “I wish I had more time to see you and talk to you and…”

Then, Essie did an astonishing thing. She whispered my name. Not my net name on ficlets, but my real full name; nickname and all. It was only one syllable away from hers. How could she have known? I hadn’t even told BernerO yet what my actual name was. I didn’t try to hide my utter disbelief.

“Shh…” Essie murmured.  “There are many unanswered questions, but with time, many of their answers shall be uncovered. However, others will remain mysteries forever. It’s always a wonderful surprise to find out which answers the questions produce, if any answer at all. The matter now is, cherish what you have while it is with you. That way, it will never be truly and completely gone,” Essie replied.

I was awestruck for about the billionth time today. How could she read so deeply into my heart? I recalled how I had once written a similar ending to one of my journal entries. From there, I took my own advice. I spoke to the characters freely and relished every bit of time I had to spend with them. For me, spending an afternoon and evening with Casimir Chrysanthemum would be like seeing Edward Cullen for any other teenage girl. I wondered if I would ever tell my friends back home about this one. Would they believe me, or think that I was “always chasing rainbows”?

“If you guys want to talk to me again sometime, then I’ll be on www.quizilla.com. On there, I’m known as “BlueberryScone87,” I told everybody.

“Do you promise that you’ll still continue us?” Casimir asked eagerly. For the first time in a long time, I noticed that his face was glowing with genuine delight and excitement.

“I always will, as long as you live on in my heart,” I responded gleefully.

 

I knew that this day had had some strange and shocking beginnings, but it ended gloriously for everyone (except for the evil toast). I got to see all of my fellow ficleteers one last time, and I had a once in a lifetime chance to see the very characters I created from my mind. Essie felt compassion after speaking to Seth, Sam, and BernerO, and Casimir was smiling from ear to ear. God had blessed everybody.

 

Suddenly, a vibration of peace pervaded the room. The storm was over, and the rain had stopped. Delight was written on the faces of countless characters and ficleteers.

“Hey, guys, the storm is over! Let’s go outside!” Sam declared. Others nodded in agreement. Kevin Lawver made sure that everyone exited in an orderly fashion.

Once again, we assembled in the clearing where we had said our last farewells. I think Essie knew it would be there all along—the inevitable sign that corresponded with and symbolized everything we had been through. As writers, communities, characters, families, couples, and friends. There, in the sky, was a rainbow.

Many looked at it in awe, hugged each other, and cried. I was among those people. “It’s—it’s perfect!” I whispered. I never wanted to leave here.

“There will always be a rainbow after the storm,” Casimir stated.

“Those are the words I live by. And the ones that Essie lives by too,” I murmured, staring at the young girl’s merry expression.

“Amen!” Seth said. We all stood there, under the rainbow for the longest time. Everything was going to turn out for the best. I had faith in it. I realized this as I stood before the most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen.

Everything did happen for a reason, like ficlets closing, or even my beloved grandfather dying. I knew there would be a happy ending for Seth, Sam, Essie, and Casimir, and I felt an exponential determination to help write it. The world would keep turning, my dreams would keep residing, and I would keep living.

After exchanging a few more dear words, Mr. Kevin Lawver announced that it was time for the characters to go back. I hugged Seth and Sam and bid them a warm good-bye. I stared at Essie with hope, love, amazement, and compassion.  “Though I have only been in your company for a few hours, I feel as if you have been a part of me my whole life,” I said to her.

“Because you have,” she responded simply. Her voice was as calm as water flowing in a stream.

“I will always be a part of you, no matter what. God created both of us, in essence, because He created your imagination and bestowed upon you talent. Thus, I am here. Never stop believing in him. When I look into your eyes, I know that you are His child. He has helped you just as He has helped me. We are both rainbow children, and now we say our farewell. Lots of people wouldn’t think I was real…but you, you see me. It is your natural gift. Someday our paths may cross again, if it is meant to be. But remember what I said, or what you told yourself: Cherish what you have while it is with you, for that way it will never be truly and completely gone. Good-bye, dear friend,” Essie said to me.

She had wisdom beyond her years. I loved her like a sister or a child. As we hugged, I felt a part of her transmit into me and never leave. As she departed, she seemed almost translucent. Perhaps this was all a dream, I thought wistfully. But I didn’t quite believe that it was.

I turned around to find Casimir standing behind me. Things were more uncertain than ever, and I didn’t know if either of us could find the right words to say. Surprisingly, this time I felt the same peaceful feeling around him that I did when I had said farewell to Essie.

He gazed upon me once more, with his beautiful face and eyes. He wore a small half-smile, and the sunlight lit up his imposing countenance.

“Well, what can I say? The road doesn’t quite end here, nor does it begin. Thank you, thank you for bringing Essie into my world. If you hadn’t done that, then…you probably know what would’ve happened. You are…in so many words, beautiful. You see the world in a light that continues to shine on those you touch. I never tell people this, but on this unique occasion, I shall say it to you. I am forever indebted to you for, well, everything. I…”

I put a finger to his lips. “Say no more. We owe it to God. As Essie said, He’s the one who created us all to begin with. The next time you have a feeling of doubt or misery, look to the sky and pray. That’s how you find truth and resolution,” I murmured softly.

Casimir fair surprised me with what happened next. He dug into his pocket and presented a small cream colored box with flowers on it. The gift was tied with a silver ribbon. “Here,” he said, somewhat shyly. “This is for you.”

I opened it to discover something cool and little. It was a light pink stone which gleamed in the light, and on it, the word “Promise” was engraved in silver letters. I was speechless.

“Casimir, th—thank you,” I managed to say. “It’s beautiful.” I was quite taken aback by his kind gesture. There was a whole new layer of him that I had yet to discover.

“Oh, you’re welcome. I decided to give this to you because…when I look into your eyes, I see promise. Promise as a writer, and promise that there will always be a rainbow after the storm.  It’s just a little token of my gratitude and pleasure of meeting the author. The one who put my life into words and opened new doors. This meeting will be one of my favorite memories. I…as I love Essie, I love you. Bon voyage,” he responded with class, putting on a successful air of maturity. He extended his hand, and I shook it.

Of course, millions of questions whizzed through my mind. So he loved both of us? What kind of love was it? A romantic type of love, or a brother-sister sort of affection? Which of us did he love more, or was it equal? Would I ever see him again…? However, I knew that I could ponder them in the future.

Out of the boldness I had acquired from this crazy day, or out of pure endearment (I’m not sure which), I kissed him. At first, it was small and gentle, as if I were kissing my grandmother. But soon, it became that of a lover’s first kiss. Casimir’s lips were not chapped, nor were they too wet. For one magical moment, the rest of the world wasn’t there. It was just me and the residing dreams. Casimir was one of those dreams.

I wonder if Essie had seen, or even if she was still there. But after Casimir and I parted from each other, everything was back to normal. The bees were still buzzing, the birds were still singing, and the rainbow was still in the sky. I bid the handsome boy farewell one last time, and I waved until I could no longer see him.

 

Kevin Lawver guided the characters back home, like a shepherd guiding a flock of sheep. In the distance, I saw Essie walking side by side Casimir. I felt no jealously; merely the ache for romance. I wanted Essie to end up with Casimir in the end, because that would be as grand as me being with him. However, I knew that even though I had written their story, I did not control their hearts. Only time and love could define the outcome.

I receded from where I stood and walked back to the center of the clearing, where the time capsule was. I thought of putting in the stone that Casimir gave me, but then decided against it. I wanted to hold onto it.

As I looked at my fellow ficleteers, I noticed that many of them had gone home as well. BernerO went back into the house to explore.

Arms outstretched, I stared up at the sky one more time. The rainbow hadn’t faded. I felt a calming peace envelope me and stay forever, residing with all of my memories. I felt lighter than I ever had before, and every hope, dream, and ambition I held was kindled. A resurgence of love filled me to the brim. I perceived and took in everything I could with my senses, and I embraced it all in a promising farewell. If I cherished what I had while it was with me, then it would never be truly and completely gone.

 

~Fin

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