What Losing You Did To Me.

Remember when I wrote a book? Yes, a long time ago I talked about it. Well, I actually started writing two books. But I've shelved both of them for the time being. Instead, I started writing this novella based on a dream I had a few nights ago.

I've decided to post this book on the blog. It isn't long enough to publish as a novel. But oh well. Maybe you will enjoy it. I'm just glad to be basically done! I plan on posting parts of it every Tuesday/ Saturday until the end. Please be aware that this novel has not been proofread by anyone other then myself. If you notice any spelling or grammar errors, don't hesitate to let me know. You won't offend me, I already know I can't spell. Also, parts of it are in french. Why? I don't know, it made sense at the time.
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What Losing You Did To Me

by Carolynn Markey

I'm writing this down for you, Aainn. Even through you'll never remember.

Right now I'm thinking about the day we first met. I was a sophomore, and you were a freshman. You were congratulating me on my high marks, while I flipped my hair in the sunshine.

How long ago that was. What a different person I was.

The next day you stopped me again, asking for tutoring, asking for help. And because I was in the top tier of our magie school, this didn't phase me. Of course I tutored you. I'd tutored others. It was the only means of income for me at that time, since I was one of the orphan transfers. But I don't think you knew that. Not then. Not like you do now.

In contrast to myself, everybody knew you, but not for your grades. Your grandfather was the head of the Eastern magie school. You were a prince, with a bit of a clandestine story. The girls all whispered about you. The professors were hesitant to discipline you. And for some reason you'd come here, to the Western school of sun and palm trees and beaches. Were you not good enough for your families school? They said it was by choice. I never got the chance to ask you, maybe because I got lost in all the kissing.

Somewhere in the days of tutoring, those many hours spent bent over books, your long fingers pointing out questions and leafing through diagrams, we fell in love. You were a sophomore then, and I'll say with pride your grades had improved. Still, not as good as mine. You were never as good as me. I regret holding that over you.

Anyway, that first kiss. It shocked me. We were on the beach that day, trying to move the water around. It takes a lot of effort, you know, to move things in the real world. Much easier to construct transparent spells out of our âme. We both knew that, but still we tried. As most mages did, in their  school days, before they learned that magie wasn't much of a practical art as it was a subterfuge.

Magic: good for reading minds, glimmer-spells, protection and enhancement. Not good for levitating books unless you want to feel like you've run 10 miles uphill while trying to carry a 6-year old. But we college kids didn't know any better, and thus we tried.

Until we collapsed from utter exhaustion, of course. You collapsed first, utterly spent, and I gratefully lay next to you, glad to stop trying to lift the sea. Your brown hair was over your eyes and despite your fatigue you were laughing at me.

“Merienge,” you said, your eyebrows like questions marks against the sand, “thanks.”

Thanks for what? I almost asked—but then you kissed me. Your lips tasted like salt water and for a second I couldn't see anything but the top of your nose. But it was a kiss. Your first, you told me later.

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This is part of my novel, "What losing you did to me". This novel is complete. Right now a new section of it posts every Tuesday and Saturday. Click here for part two.

All my writing can be viewed here. Picture in this post is from here. Used with permission.