Aetherias Moon

by Aetherias Moon

It was already too late when Lila climbed up the creaky wooden steps to the attic. It was already too late when she opened her notebook to the first page. It was already too late when she sat in front of the stained glass window she had always loved.

Lila stared at the rose depicted out of red and pink glass, a blue sky, an orange and yellow sun, and a vibrant green stem. The oval window’s metal work had rusted slightly, so some of it shimmered more than others. No light patterned the ground through the window. It was a rainy day. A fitting day.

“I’m sorry,” Lila whispered. Her voice drowned out by the patter of rain on the rooftop. The room was well-loved for an attic. A rug brightened up the gray wood, and leather chests filled the room. They had always been a mystery for her to explore. Her grandmother would pick a chest, reach inside of it, and ask her to guess what she thought it would be. It would turn into twenty questions before something would be revealed, a broach, music sheets, a pink shoe…They had all had a story to go along with it. 

How Lila had loved that game.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never shared it with you, and I love it so much.”

She tried to read the words on the page, but the words warped before her eyes. She rubbed her eyes and forced herself to focus.

“I can read it to you now. I can make it okay.”

But the words seemed like hieroglyphics to her. They didn’t make sense. She couldn’t shove the words into her mind, they would just pop right back out. She knew how it began without having to read it.

“The rain glistens, the sun shimmers, and you-”

She gasped, feeling tears that wouldn’t fall as she noticed a strange ceramic cat-fox that her grandmother had bought at a second-hand shop. Haggling down the price had been a proud moment for her grandmother. It had been the last story-time session, preserved there perfectly. Like she could almost slip into it.

“I saw this little thing, and I thought it can’t be worth that much.”

“So then why did you want it?”

“Because I wanted it, silly.”

“But-”

“Hush, let me finish the story. I asked to have it for four dollars. I thought that was a good number.”

“Why four?”

“Doesn’t this just scream four dollars?”

“Sure.”

“Well, you’re wrong cause I got it for three!”

Lila shoved her head into her hands, her notebook slipping to the floor. Her grandmother loved to tell stories about everything, even the most mundane things.

How had it happened? She was fine. 

She was old sweetie. These things happen.

Shut up. 

Shivers wracked through her body.

Shut up. 

Trembling, she shoved her hand against her eyes, pressing into them until it hurt.

Shut up.

Lila threw her notebook across the room. She launched it with all the force she could muster. 

Crash.

 Lilac opened her eyes and screamed. Shards of the stained glass window littered the floor. Her journal was nowhere to be seen, presumably on the grass in the front yard. She fell to her knees in front of the shards. Mist from the rain tickled her skin through the broken window. Glass of blue, red, green…a rainbow littered the floor in front of her.

It was too much.

She stared out at nothing, letting the cool autumn wind make her shiver. Laboriously, her eyes traveled back down to the glass. She sat perfectly to see herself reflected in shards of every color. 

She looked different in every single one.

Everything flashed iridescent.

#

Lila woke up. For a moment, everything was peaceful.

Then she remembered.

The ache overtook her so quickly that she didn’t take in her strange surroundings for a few moments. Hanging, as if out of nothing, were stained glass windows. One depicted a shoe in various shades of pinks and red. Another showed a blue broach, a cat-fox in yellow, music notes in violet, and a notebook in green. From each window, a triangle of light lit up five platforms that surrounded her. Each platform looked like a shard of glass. She stood on a perfect circle. On each platform perched a girl with sandy blonde hair, a slender figure, and pale skin. Each wore a simple dress with a ribbon tying at the waist. All of them were colored by the light of the stained glass behind them and matched their piercing gaze.

They were all Lila.

Slowly, she stood up. Glancing down, she discovered she wore the same dress, but hers was black. She hated that.

“Ah, you’re awake.” the yellow Lila smiled.

“Took you long enough.” Red crossed her arms.

“She just needed a little nap,” Violet said.

“Why is she even here?” Green said.

Blue just sniffled.

“Where is this place?” Lila said.

Red snickered. 

“It’s the place in between,” Yellow said, as if that made sense. 

Lila stepped up to the edge of her platform. She fell backward with a thump. The platforms were each broken up by about a five-foot gap; between them were pits that seemed to go into infinity. Not just that. If she looked, it didn’t seem as if the platforms were propped up by anything.

“She’s not going to get it,” Red said.

“Leave her alone. She’s going through a lot,” Yellow said.

Lila pulled her legs in against her chest. She hugged herself and rocked back and forth. None of this made sense. Her life had fallen apart, and now this. 

“She doesn’t even get it,” Blue whimpered. “Grandma’s gone.”

Lila froze.

“She doesn’t even care.” Blue burst into tears, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles.

“How dare you,” Lila whimpered.

“It’s true. If you cared, you would have shared with her your writing before it was too late,” Red said.

“Shut up!” Yellow said. “All of you. This isn’t helping at all.”

Lila started breathing hard and fast. Her grandmother was gone. Of course she cared. Of course she did, so why had she broken the window? Why had she run away from her family to hide in an attic?

“The writing wasn’t any good anyway,” Green said.

“She did her best. She put her heart into it,” Violet said.

Lila put her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear any of it. Closing her eyes, she hoped everything would disappear. Their voices sounded muffled, like they were underwater, but still they leaked in.

“Look what you did.”

“She’s being pathetic, so what?”

“Of course she’s overwhelmed. Anyone would be when faced with all of this.”

“Our grandmother just died.”

Lila shoved herself to standing. “My grandmother,” Lila said. “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t get to claim her as your own.”

“I could say the same,” Blue said. “At least I can cry!”

Lila screamed and the glass Blue stood on shattered. She disappeared into the darkness without a sound. The sound of glass tinkling hung in the air.

“Oh, that’s rough,” Red said.

Lila took a step back, pressing her hand to her forehead. “Can you all just be quiet?”

“You need to feel it, sweetheart. Pushing all of us away isn’t going to help,” Violet said. 

“As if any of you are helpful!”

Violet’s glass shattered, and she fell away with an “oh my.”

Lila panted, exhaustion taking over. Her head pounded, and the world seemed to spin. What happened if she fell into the abyss? She smelt roses, it reminded her of her grandmother. She rubbed her eyes, feeling a painful pressure. They burned, but no tears came.

“Can you please calm down?” Yellow said.

Lila looked at her, wishing she would just disappear.

“I can explain what is happening.”

“As if she’d understand.”

Lila willed the platform to shatter beneath Red, but nothing happened. The red light poured down on her skin, casting her in an ominous light. Red smirked.

“You’re going through a lot right now. This is a way of coping with what’s going on,” Yellow said. “We’re here to help you.”

“This isn’t helping. Send me back,” Lila said.

“I can’t.” Yellow looked down. “You’re the one who has to let yourself out.”

“She doesn’t want to go back,” Green said.

“I’ll go back,” Red said.

Lila recoiled at that. “You all know nothing.”

“Attacking each other isn’t going to help,” Yellow said. “We need to be kind to ourselv-”

Yellow fell into the abyss, a look of sadness crossing her face as she left. Lila’s shoulders slumped. Drained. She stared at Red and Green. The sound of glass tinkling became louder, like they were breaking rather than singing.

“Can’t you two just go away?”

Green looked down at the floor. “I wish I could disappear.”

Lila swallowed and stared at the missing spots where the other Lila’s had stood. Why was the ache in her heart getting colder?

“Then go,” Lila said, frozen to her bones.

Green fell into oblivion. 

 Red smiled wickedly at her. “You don’t really want me to leave you, do you?”

“I do.”

“You’ll be all alone.”

“That’s what I want.”

“No it’s not. You want your grandmother back.”

“But I can’t have that,” Lila spat.

“No you can’t,” Red said. “The real question is, can you stop hating yourself?”

Red smiled, laid back and fell into the pit, her platform shattering as she disappeared. Lila stood alone in a dark room filled with rainbows.

#

Lila woke up, dampened by raindrops misting in through the broken window. What had that dream been? She stared at the floor. The sun had gone down. Streetlights cast jagged rainbows through the unbroken bits of stained glass window. Light caught the mist, turning it into dancing rainbows. She walked down the attic steps and out onto the front lawn, where she found her notebook soaked through.

She stared at it as rain poured down on her until her mother found her and carted her away inside, chiding her and asking her what she had been doing. Lila didn’t have an answer.

#

Stained glass windows lined the walls right before they arched up into the roof. They depicted scenes from the Bible. Lila wasn’t particularly devout, but she picked out Jesus and the Virgin Mary. Their haunting gazes colored the room.

The priest spoke about Lila’s grandmother, but she didn’t hear any of it. Everything seemed excruciatingly silent, like her soul had passed and she remained an accident left in her body.

“Everyone please stand,” the Priest said.

Lila didn’t move until her mother prodded her. After a few minutes of singing, she slumped into the pew. She could only stare into the stained glass windows.

She knew the priest spoke about her grandmother, but he didn’t know her. She had to wonder, did he even care when her own granddaughter couldn’t even shed tears? If he did, what did that make her?

The car ride to the burial was even more bitter. They passed by their house, with the attics window boarded up with planks of wood. It seemed like some kind of metaphor to her, though her mind couldn’t fathom what kind. They walked through a windy cemetery, women and men clinging to hats and shawls as they walked. 

Her mother rubbed Lila’s shoulders. “Aren’t you cold?”

Lila shook her head. She wasn’t cold; she was numb. It strangled her. She wanted to scream but couldn’t care to.

Around the green cloth, the priest began another speech. Surrounded by sniffles, she could only stare at the flowers ringing the casket. Blue and Red.

At least I can cry!

The real question is, can you stop hating yourself?

Lila rubbed her arms, suddenly very cold. 

You’ll be all alone.

“Shut up,” Lila said. “You didn’t even know her.”

The priest paused his speech. Silence was palpable, and then murmurs rose in the crowd. Her heart roared in her ears. Everyone looked at her. The priest turned towards her. Lila panicked. She hadn’t been talking to him.

“That was very rude,” her aunt whispered to her uncle.

There were some nods of approval. The priest stuttered, smiled at her awkwardly, and continued speaking.

Finally, tears streaked down her face, a sob choked out. 

Lila ran.

#

Lila crouched by her mother’s car, bawling her eyes out. She shivered.

“What did you make me do?”

A high-pitched sound like wind chimes tinkled through the air. 

“You’re just starting to feel again,” someone said. They had Lila’s voice. She looked to her right. There was nobody. But then she saw her reflection in a puddle. It looked like her if she had yellow eyes with a matching dress. “You’re letting us in again.”

“It hurts.” she shoved her head against her legs.

“You were right though. That priest didn’t care about our grandmother,” Red said. She could tell from the way Red spoke.

“That’s not nice to say,” Lila whimpered. “I didn’t mean to say it.” She looked at the puddle. Water fell from a tree into the puddle. It rippled and when the puddle stilled, she reflected blue.

“Doesn’t it feel good to cry, though?” Blue said.

Lila sniffled. “I’m losing it.”

“There you are!” Lila’s mother said.

Lila looked up, and her eyes burbled with tears. “I’m sorry, mom. I wasn’t talking to-”

Her mother pulled her into an embrace. “I know how much you loved her.”

Lila squeaked and buried her head in her mother’s shoulder as she sniffled.

“I miss her.”

“I do too, sweetie.” Her mother rubbed her back and then, after several moments, pulled away. “I have something for you.” She pulled open the car door and rifled through a bag. After a moment, she stepped out of the car and handed her a paper bag.

“What is this?” 

“Take a look.”

Lila unwrapped the package and pulled out her journal. The worn leather cover had cracked slightly. She opened up the pages. They curled and bubbled, and even though some of the ink was smudged beyond saving, a lot of it remained legible. It wasn’t ruined.

“Mom…”

“We spent hours blow-drying it,” she said. “I know how much you care about it.”

“I’m sorry-”

“What do you say when someone gives you a gift?” her mother smiled.

“Thank you,” Lila said as a tear dropped into a smiling reflection. She couldn’t tell what color it was, and she didn’t think it mattered. 

#

Lila sat at a round table in a diner she had gone too many times in her life. Memories of her grandmother hung thick in the air. Pictures of her grandmother appeared on a screen. Lila appeared in a lot of them alongside her. She looked away, unsure she could bear to see her grandmother’s smiling face anymore.

Her aunt clinked a glass with a fork.

“Hello everyone, I want to open up the mic to anyone who wants to share a story about Mom,” she said. Then she went on to tell a tale about her grandmother scaring off one of her boyfriends by showing off a squirrel skull she had found. When Lila’s aunt had complained, her grandmother had simply said that if he couldn’t put up with a little eccentricity, he didn’t belong in the family. It’s not like I killed the damn squirrel, she had said.

Lila smiled despite herself. She felt the ridges of the uneven pages of her notebook and found a pressure building in her chest.

You can do it, Yellow murmured in her mind.

Don’t be a coward, Red said.

More members of her family got up and told stories about her grandmother. As time passed, her leg jittered up and down. Her heart raced. She wasn’t brave, she couldn’t do it.

You don’t have to do it alone, Violet said.

Lila got up just as her aunt did. She clutched her notebook to her chest. Her aunt raced to get the microphone before her, giving her a dirty look as she did. Lila’s mother caught her aunt’s arm and whispered something to her. Lila picked up the mic and stared out at her family. She hadn’t been brave enough to read it to her grandmother. Could she really read it here?

We can make it up to her, Blue said.

“I wrote a poem,” Lila whispered. “I-”

“We can’t hear you!” some extended family member shouted.

“I wrote a poem for Grandma,” Lila said. “I never had a chance to read it to her. I regret that,” Lila said and then fell silent.

You can do it, Yellow said.

We’re with you, Violet said.

“I’m going to read it now,” she said and then fumbled with the pages of her notebook. Luckily, the page she had written the poem on had made it through the rain, mostly unscathed. 

“The rain glistens, the sun shimmers, and you are my whole world. Your laughter never ends, your smile glimmers, and you are my galaxy. Your trinkets twinkle, your stories meander, and you are my universe.”

The room chuckled slightly and Lila smiled through her tears.

“Your hug envelopes, your heart’s the biggest, and you are my home,” Lila said and stared out at the room. There were teary eyes. She knew her poem might not have been the best, but it meant something to her. She kept meaning to share it with her grandmother, but she never had the chance.

“Thank you,” Lila said and ran away from the mic. 

Her mother stared out into the crowd and wiped a tear. “Thank you, Lila. I’m sure she’s looking down at you proud as can be.”

Lila sniffled and glanced at her reflection in the glass of water. A rainbow looked back at her. She smiled to herself. Somehow she knew she wouldn’t have been strong enough to do it without them.

She was never too late when she sat with her grandmother telling stories. She was never too late when her grandmother helped her pen her tales. She was never too late when her grandmother told her to follow her dreams.

END

This story is dedicated to my grandmother and grandfather.