Failure

She lightly brushes the surface of the pebble with her thumb. For a moment, she lets herself feel it completely rather than pushing those feelings to the side. It’s strange, caught in a strange in-between of being smooth, but full of the tiniest of bumps and small imperfections scattered across the surface. Her grip on it tightens until all those sensations are overwhelming, holding that as long as she can until it becomes too much for her to handle. It takes a depressingly short amount of time before she reaches that point.

Deep inside, she knows the intention behind this impromptu gift had been good; it had been an attempt at giving Keeva the slightest ray of hope to physically hold onto. A reminder for her to look for the brighter things in life, no matter how small they may be. She knew all that. It was a kind gesture, but none of that was what she wanted. It wasn’t just the darkness around her that was causing her grief, it was the darkness inside of her, and nothing seemed to help ease that pain.

Keeva wishes that she could have just a sliver of the light Fiona gave off within herself as well. She wants so desperately to be more like Fiona, leading all those she cares for through the deep darkness, shining like a beacon of hope and guiding their way so they would not become lost in the gloom. Fiona had overcome the darkness and become light itself. She didn’t struggle with touching anyone. She wasn’t doubting her aspect, the entirety of what she is meant to embody. She was everything she was meant to be. Why couldn’t Keeva manage the same?

Her mouth softens into a mournful frown. What kind of caretaker was she really?

The pebble she holds in her hand feels much heavier than when Fiona had originally dropped it into her outstretched palm. To Keeva, it doesn’t offer the relief Fiona surely meant for it to give. All it does is make her wish it was Fiona’s hand she was holding instead.

It was just a reminder of her failure.