Clare-Dragonfly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clare_dragonfly) wrote2015-08-07 09:20 pm
clare_dragonfly) wrote2015-08-07 09:20 pm
Fiction: Paris
Title: Paris
World: The Wasteland
Word count: 1,566
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic Hills of Iowa 7, So if you want to see the world with me let's go.; Sulphur 16, fire; stayintheroom Paris will still be there when you're twenty.
Notes: Apocalypses! They have a lot of death.
It was a perfect day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Jala and Anden had finally graduated from high school.
They walked hand in hand through the park. The ceremonies were over; all that sweaty stuff with the graduation robes and caps and the stupid music was done. There was a war going on somewhere in the world, but it seemed so far away right now, with the sun warm on Jala’s skin and Anden’s hand in her own. The trees were so vibrant and green, and she felt as though she could do anything.
“We’re free now,” said Anden, echoing her thoughts—as he so often did. “Isn’t it wonderful? We can do whatever we want.”
She laughed. “We’re only free for a few months. Or have you changed your mind about going to college?”
“Actually, I might have.” He stepped off the path, taking her with him, and turned in the shade of a tree to hold both of her hands. “They’ll let us defer our admissions for a year if we want to—we’ll still be in, we’ll just have a year to do whatever we want.”
“And what do we want?” she teased. She had no idea where he was going with this, but it sounded wonderful to her. Just the thought of having a year to spend with him, just focusing on each other, before they went to college and had a million other things to focus on—it made her heart flutter.
He pulled her closer, looking deep into her eyes. “We’ll travel. Go to Europe. See Paris! Haven’t you always wanted to see Paris?”
“I have,” she admitted. The thought was intoxicating. Traveling around Europe, seeing all the cities she had always dreamed of seeing—and with Anden as her companion. It would be dangerous, but what did that matter? They weren’t fighting in Paris, anyway. “But how will we afford it?”
“I can pay for our plane tickets with my savings from work,” he said.
“Oh, but that’s for—“
He leaned in and gently kissed her lips to quiet her. “It’s for what I want to spend it on, and what I want to spend it on is traveling with you. And then we can backpack around, get rides—people are so nice in Europe. We’ll learn the languages and get train passes. Maybe we’ll work a little while we’re there. After all, we have a whole year.”
She laughed with delight. “It sounds as though you have it all worked out.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“And you never mentioned it to me before?”
“I wanted to make sure it was a good plan first.” He pulled her even closer and put his arms around her waist. “So, what do you say?”
“Yes. Of course.”
—
“No. Of course not.”
“I can defer admission for a year,” said Jala, feeling that she was being very reasonable and annoyed that her parents were both giving her that blank stare that meant they weren’t going to be convinced. “I checked. The college will let me do that.”
“And then in a year, what will you do?” her father asked. “Will you have savings?”
“Yes,” said Jala, though she knew she hadn’t thought about it. “We’ll work our way around Europe. I’ll be fine.”
“Sweetheart,” said her mom, and the bottom dropped out of Jala’s stomach. She knew when her mom said that in that way, she’d lost the argument. “You’re still seventeen. That means you’re not legally an adult.”
“I will be in a month.” Jala had to argue.
“And if you’re in Paris then, we won’t be supporting you. You’ll have left our house. We’ve always agreed that once you move out, you don’t move back in. As long as you’re living here, we’ll feed you and help pay for your tuition, but if you leave us, we can’t support you anymore.”
“If you want to be treated as an adult, you have to accept all the adult treatment,” said her father.
Tears stung Jala’s eyes. “I’m not moving out! It’s just a trip.”
“A year-long trip is moving,” said her father. “You can go for a week, if you have the means to pay for it. Your mother and I can’t do that.”
“Sweetheart,” said Jala’s mom again. This time she stood up and put her hands on Jala’s shoulders. “You can go to Europe when you’ve graduated and you have a good job. Paris isn’t going to change.”
—
“Everything’s going to change.”
“Not everything,” said Jala, afraid, her heart half-broken already. Anden wasn’t happy. He didn’t understand. She had to make him understand that she couldn’t go now, but they could go in the future.
He flung his arm out, as though gesturing at something. “Everything, Jala! Have you seen the political situation? We need to travel now, while we’re young, while the world is still safe.”
He threw his hands toward her and grasped both of hers, his intensity almost frightening her. “It doesn’t matter what your parents say. Come with me. We’ll find a way to survive when we get back. There are always campus jobs, loans for tuition. We can’t plan what’s going to happen anyway. The rules might be different when we get back.”
Jala shook her head, tears in her eyes. “Anden, I can’t. I can’t leave my parents. We’ll work through college and once we have money saved up, we’ll buy our plane tickets.”
“I already have my ticket.” His voice was far too quiet.
“They’ll refund it.”
“I already requested deferred admission.”
Jala bit her lip. That was a bit more difficult. “Then you can work for a year. We’ll still be together, and you’ll have savings built up. You’ll be ahead of me.”
He pulled his hands away from hers. She tried to hang on, but he freed himself. “I’m going to Europe, Jala. I wanted to go with you, but if you won’t go with me, I’ll go by myself.”
She watched him walk away.
—
She watched a man walk toward her.
She didn’t know who he was, but it was clear he was walking toward her; she was the only one in this corner of the library, on purpose. Not that she was concentrating very well on her schoolwork right now. She hadn’t heard from Anden in over a week, and she was worried. She was trying to do well in her courses, both so she could not disappoint her parents and so it would seem worth the sacrifice of staying here while Anden went to Europe. But it was hard.
Especially with all the rumors. A war had begun, and while it hadn’t affected Jala yet, she knew it would. And there were always rumors and talk swirling around campus. Jala avoided the news, but she couldn’t avoid hearing things from other students. Horrible things were happening. She just tried to focus on her own thing.
The man stopped a few feet from her; close enough to be hard, far enough to be clearly polite. He looked about her age, maybe a year or two older, and he was a little scruffier than most students, unshaven and with a half-grown-out haircut. She didn’t recognize him, but it was a big campus.
He cleared his throat. “Are you Jala?”
She put her pen down and nodded.
“My name’s Evid. Anden might have mentioned me.”
Jala’s heart flew into her throat. But she tried to remain calm. There might be a perfectly good reason Anden’s friend, the man he’d met in London and traveled to Spain and France with, was visiting Jala on her own. “Yes,” she said. “I remember you.”
He looked down for a moment, then up and into her eyes again, as though steeling himself. “Jala, I had to come here to tell you in person. Anden and I were caught up in the riot in Paris two days ago.” He swallowed. She felt her hands begin to shake. “He was killed when the army came to put it down.”
She didn’t think she’d moved, but he was rushing to her side, catching her by the shoulders, murmuring over and over again, “I’m sorry, Jala, I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t feel his touch. She couldn’t feel anything at all. There was nothing here. Nothing at all.
“My parents were right,” she said.
—
“Anden was right,” she said.
She’d finished two years of college. But college didn’t exist anymore. The school was being closed; everything was being closed.
She was staring at the paper giving her an assignment. The same paper everyone had received, with perhaps different assignments. Hers was to a ship. She had been given the rank of private. Apparently the military didn’t have any higher use for a sociology major, no matter how good her grades were.
“What’s that?” asked her roommate, who’d been given a post in Washington. Maybe her economics major was going to come in handy to the government.
“Everything’s changed.”
“You can say that again.”
“At least the ship is going to Europe,” she said, folding up the paper and tucking it into her pocket. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to see Paris.”
Her roommate stood up and squeezed her shoulder. “Jala. Paris burned in March.”
“I know,” she said, tears swimming into her eyes. “Paris isn’t there anymore.”
Thanks for reading this story! If you enjoyed it, visit my main page for all stories I've posted at Dreamwidth, or the tag for this world for more stories with this setting or characters. You can also pledge at my Patreon for exclusive patron-only stories and prompt posts.
World: The Wasteland
Word count: 1,566
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
rainbowfic Hills of Iowa 7, So if you want to see the world with me let's go.; Sulphur 16, fire; stayintheroom Paris will still be there when you're twenty.Notes: Apocalypses! They have a lot of death.
It was a perfect day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Jala and Anden had finally graduated from high school.
They walked hand in hand through the park. The ceremonies were over; all that sweaty stuff with the graduation robes and caps and the stupid music was done. There was a war going on somewhere in the world, but it seemed so far away right now, with the sun warm on Jala’s skin and Anden’s hand in her own. The trees were so vibrant and green, and she felt as though she could do anything.
“We’re free now,” said Anden, echoing her thoughts—as he so often did. “Isn’t it wonderful? We can do whatever we want.”
She laughed. “We’re only free for a few months. Or have you changed your mind about going to college?”
“Actually, I might have.” He stepped off the path, taking her with him, and turned in the shade of a tree to hold both of her hands. “They’ll let us defer our admissions for a year if we want to—we’ll still be in, we’ll just have a year to do whatever we want.”
“And what do we want?” she teased. She had no idea where he was going with this, but it sounded wonderful to her. Just the thought of having a year to spend with him, just focusing on each other, before they went to college and had a million other things to focus on—it made her heart flutter.
He pulled her closer, looking deep into her eyes. “We’ll travel. Go to Europe. See Paris! Haven’t you always wanted to see Paris?”
“I have,” she admitted. The thought was intoxicating. Traveling around Europe, seeing all the cities she had always dreamed of seeing—and with Anden as her companion. It would be dangerous, but what did that matter? They weren’t fighting in Paris, anyway. “But how will we afford it?”
“I can pay for our plane tickets with my savings from work,” he said.
“Oh, but that’s for—“
He leaned in and gently kissed her lips to quiet her. “It’s for what I want to spend it on, and what I want to spend it on is traveling with you. And then we can backpack around, get rides—people are so nice in Europe. We’ll learn the languages and get train passes. Maybe we’ll work a little while we’re there. After all, we have a whole year.”
She laughed with delight. “It sounds as though you have it all worked out.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“And you never mentioned it to me before?”
“I wanted to make sure it was a good plan first.” He pulled her even closer and put his arms around her waist. “So, what do you say?”
“Yes. Of course.”
—
“No. Of course not.”
“I can defer admission for a year,” said Jala, feeling that she was being very reasonable and annoyed that her parents were both giving her that blank stare that meant they weren’t going to be convinced. “I checked. The college will let me do that.”
“And then in a year, what will you do?” her father asked. “Will you have savings?”
“Yes,” said Jala, though she knew she hadn’t thought about it. “We’ll work our way around Europe. I’ll be fine.”
“Sweetheart,” said her mom, and the bottom dropped out of Jala’s stomach. She knew when her mom said that in that way, she’d lost the argument. “You’re still seventeen. That means you’re not legally an adult.”
“I will be in a month.” Jala had to argue.
“And if you’re in Paris then, we won’t be supporting you. You’ll have left our house. We’ve always agreed that once you move out, you don’t move back in. As long as you’re living here, we’ll feed you and help pay for your tuition, but if you leave us, we can’t support you anymore.”
“If you want to be treated as an adult, you have to accept all the adult treatment,” said her father.
Tears stung Jala’s eyes. “I’m not moving out! It’s just a trip.”
“A year-long trip is moving,” said her father. “You can go for a week, if you have the means to pay for it. Your mother and I can’t do that.”
“Sweetheart,” said Jala’s mom again. This time she stood up and put her hands on Jala’s shoulders. “You can go to Europe when you’ve graduated and you have a good job. Paris isn’t going to change.”
—
“Everything’s going to change.”
“Not everything,” said Jala, afraid, her heart half-broken already. Anden wasn’t happy. He didn’t understand. She had to make him understand that she couldn’t go now, but they could go in the future.
He flung his arm out, as though gesturing at something. “Everything, Jala! Have you seen the political situation? We need to travel now, while we’re young, while the world is still safe.”
He threw his hands toward her and grasped both of hers, his intensity almost frightening her. “It doesn’t matter what your parents say. Come with me. We’ll find a way to survive when we get back. There are always campus jobs, loans for tuition. We can’t plan what’s going to happen anyway. The rules might be different when we get back.”
Jala shook her head, tears in her eyes. “Anden, I can’t. I can’t leave my parents. We’ll work through college and once we have money saved up, we’ll buy our plane tickets.”
“I already have my ticket.” His voice was far too quiet.
“They’ll refund it.”
“I already requested deferred admission.”
Jala bit her lip. That was a bit more difficult. “Then you can work for a year. We’ll still be together, and you’ll have savings built up. You’ll be ahead of me.”
He pulled his hands away from hers. She tried to hang on, but he freed himself. “I’m going to Europe, Jala. I wanted to go with you, but if you won’t go with me, I’ll go by myself.”
She watched him walk away.
—
She watched a man walk toward her.
She didn’t know who he was, but it was clear he was walking toward her; she was the only one in this corner of the library, on purpose. Not that she was concentrating very well on her schoolwork right now. She hadn’t heard from Anden in over a week, and she was worried. She was trying to do well in her courses, both so she could not disappoint her parents and so it would seem worth the sacrifice of staying here while Anden went to Europe. But it was hard.
Especially with all the rumors. A war had begun, and while it hadn’t affected Jala yet, she knew it would. And there were always rumors and talk swirling around campus. Jala avoided the news, but she couldn’t avoid hearing things from other students. Horrible things were happening. She just tried to focus on her own thing.
The man stopped a few feet from her; close enough to be hard, far enough to be clearly polite. He looked about her age, maybe a year or two older, and he was a little scruffier than most students, unshaven and with a half-grown-out haircut. She didn’t recognize him, but it was a big campus.
He cleared his throat. “Are you Jala?”
She put her pen down and nodded.
“My name’s Evid. Anden might have mentioned me.”
Jala’s heart flew into her throat. But she tried to remain calm. There might be a perfectly good reason Anden’s friend, the man he’d met in London and traveled to Spain and France with, was visiting Jala on her own. “Yes,” she said. “I remember you.”
He looked down for a moment, then up and into her eyes again, as though steeling himself. “Jala, I had to come here to tell you in person. Anden and I were caught up in the riot in Paris two days ago.” He swallowed. She felt her hands begin to shake. “He was killed when the army came to put it down.”
She didn’t think she’d moved, but he was rushing to her side, catching her by the shoulders, murmuring over and over again, “I’m sorry, Jala, I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t feel his touch. She couldn’t feel anything at all. There was nothing here. Nothing at all.
“My parents were right,” she said.
—
“Anden was right,” she said.
She’d finished two years of college. But college didn’t exist anymore. The school was being closed; everything was being closed.
She was staring at the paper giving her an assignment. The same paper everyone had received, with perhaps different assignments. Hers was to a ship. She had been given the rank of private. Apparently the military didn’t have any higher use for a sociology major, no matter how good her grades were.
“What’s that?” asked her roommate, who’d been given a post in Washington. Maybe her economics major was going to come in handy to the government.
“Everything’s changed.”
“You can say that again.”
“At least the ship is going to Europe,” she said, folding up the paper and tucking it into her pocket. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to see Paris.”
Her roommate stood up and squeezed her shoulder. “Jala. Paris burned in March.”
“I know,” she said, tears swimming into her eyes. “Paris isn’t there anymore.”
Thanks for reading this story! If you enjoyed it, visit my main page for all stories I've posted at Dreamwidth, or the tag for this world for more stories with this setting or characters. You can also pledge at my Patreon for exclusive patron-only stories and prompt posts.