User blog:Promestein/Starcross - Baby Calendar

Alice stares at the calendar, tucked in with the rest of its kin, closer to the front than those that merely counted the year and its days. One of those is already tucked under Alice’s arm, for the upcoming year, but this one is different. That is because it is a baby calendar, a calendar to mark all the milestones of your precious child’s first year in the world. Alice has no use for it. Venus is not her daughter by birth, and she never knew her when was that young anyways. She’s at the age where she can remember all her milestones herself, and can find the proper amount of pride in each.

But still, Alice stares. It’s a Winnie the Pooh-themed baby calendar, because of course it is. She tilts her at it, having to bend down to do so thanks to her excessive height, and wonders what kind of parent would buy such a thing. She wonders if she would’ve bought this, had she ever been given the option. The answer is pretty simple. No. Alice doesn’t need a calendar to remember. She trusts her memory, more than she trusts the ground under her feet. And for good reason. A calendar like this would only eat up her time.

But still, Alice stares. Not everyone is as infallible as she is. She can imagine it now. A haggard parent finding some joy by writing down the day’s events, finding so much glee in their newborn child’s quirks and discoveries, as they slowly grew up. And that parent going over it years in the future, perhaps when their child was all grown up and out of the house. Or maybe, their child finds it, and reads it themself, finding all the milestones of their first year of life. The things they won’t ever remember, the flashes from the simplest year of their life. Alice clicks her tongue, and then brings up her hand to whittle her thumbnail down between her front teeth.

Wouldn’t it be nice if Alice’s parents had kept a calendar just like this? Not just for her, but Ha-neul too, of course. Detailing the day-by-day occurrences in their little farmhouse, as their beloved little girls grew into strong, proud women. For all Alice knows, they certainly could’ve. Perhaps it was left in a dusty cabinet or slipped into the cracks of their bookshelf. Of course, no matter the location, it would be lost now, along with the halcyon years of Alice’s childhood.

“Alice?” EQUINOX’s voice takes a moment to settle in her brain, and Alice straightens up, looking at her girlfriend out from the corner of her eye. She had returned to her side, and is now looking up at her with concern in her eyes. Alice couldn’t articulate how nice it is to be at a point where she can read her emotions just by the twitches of her face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just got caught up in a memory,” Alice waves it off, and ruffles EQUINOX’s hair, putting on her brightest smile. “Nothing to worry about.” EQUINOX scowls and shoves her hand away, but there’s still a smile in the look she gives her. Well, it’s not like all the simplicity and peace in Alice’s life is past her quite yet.

One day, looking back at this memory, Alice finds that it is another halcyon day, forever lost to her. She clenches her fist tight, and then grinds her thumbnail between her front teeth, mind flashing with gruesome visions of tears and apologies and broken bones. Not of the past, no, and not her tears, or apologies, or broken bones. It is a vision the future. The future she will make a reality.