Novel & Cerita Dust Yourself Off And Try Again

“Come the fuck on.” I strike them repeatedly, a frantic, desperate rhythm. On the twelfth attempt, a tiny, brilliant spark flies off the stone, landing squarely on the bed of dry leaves I gathered. It glows for a fraction of a second before dying. Hope flares in my chest, hot and sharp, instantly followed by a crushing wave of frustration. I don’t stop. I strike harder, ignoring the way the rough stones scrape the skin off my knuckles. Another spark. I lean down immediately, my face inches from the dirt, and blow gently.

Again. The sting of frustration welled up inside me, my eyes prickling. "It's… it's not working," I managed in a small, catching voice, and betrayed desperation emerged from behind the words. "Don't give up, Elora," Alexander whispered, leaning closer. "Just try once more. I'm right here beside you.

That's all in the past now, my Dad is now a part of the witch's gang. As I paid attention to "Fix You" by Coldplay" on the radio. I wondered if there was someone that could fix me. It is one of my favorite songs to listen to every morning. I'd say it gives me some sort of hope and inspiration. I began to sing the song: "When you try your best, but you don't succeed When you get what you want, but not what you need When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep Stuck in reverse And the tears come streaming down your face

"Get a grip of yourself, Ruby." I stood up and cleaned my dress which was already stained with mud. I approached the figure, only to discover it was merely a tree shaped by the play of shadows. Frustration bubbled up within me, and I muttered a string of curses under my breath. "Of all the times to be jumpy..."

What did you say to someone you'd treated like dirt? How did you apologize for being cold and dismissive when they'd done nothing wrong? How did you explain that your rudeness came from fear, not disinterest? I started typing. Deleted it. Started again. *I'm sorry.* Two words. Simple. Honest. Not enough to fix what I'd done, but maybe enough to start. I hit send before I could change my mind. Then immediately wished I could take it back. What if he didn't respond? What if he'd already written me off as another crazy woman not worth the effort?

Heavier. I blink slowly, trying to focus again, but the edges of my vision start to blur in a different way now, darker, like something is closing in from the sides. “No,” I murmur, shaking my head slightly. Not now. I press my fingers into the dirt again, grounding myself, forcing my focus to stay sharp. “You’re fine,” I tell myself, the words quiet but firm. I try again. My hand presses down. My arm pushes. My body barely lifts this time before it gives out again.

" I felt nothing. Just dropped to my knees, scooped up the ashes, and tucked them gently back into the broken urn. Then I picked it up, held it tight, and walked out. Silent.

“ I'm trying my best.” “It seems all you are doing to me is sulking, do whatever must be done to bring her back. If it has to do with playing dirty, let's roll in the ditch with them, we have been walked on for too long, and it's time we let them know not to ever try that ever again.”

But today… today I saw it. And believe you me, I do not like how I feel looking up at it. At her. At us. “Should cover it back, get someone to wrapped it all up and just…” the cloth just came down as I attempted to do it myself. Refusing to stay up like it done before. I tried again. Putting down my glass on my desk. But a second later, “argh,” I pulled it off from my face instead. “The dust on this thing…” Maybe… maybe I should let be? “It is dusty,” I muttered, looking from the cloth now on my floors to the wide frame standing in my face. Bright and clean as ever.

I serve the boys their breakfast and sit down again. “The point is, no matter what life throws at you, pick yourself up and dust yourself off. Move on even though the process may take long, you have to view life in a different way. In your case, don’t spend most of your time sulking and thinking about that dung beetle, Blake Dawson and that ‘Delilah’ with a body of a stray dog, Sabrina Johnson. Those two Chewbaccas aren't worth your tears. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.” I hear light chuckles from Vic and Scott.