fly like paper | high like planes [matt]

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A S H T O N x O L I V E R x K I N G S L E Y

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The silence is impenetrable. I could try and move my lips to let out a sound, at least enough for my mind to register that I wasn't deaf. However, the small effort was unneeded. My eyes traced across the ceiling, typical daydreaming passing my time. The blank white space turned into a canvas with beautiful colors overlapping and creating a complex and detailed scenario. The small light that poured into my room played tricks with the colors that I could imagine, creating even more shades and depth. But the small breeze that pushed itself through the small space at the bottom of my window washed across my body, distracting the thoughts.

My rough hands pushed my body up, my arms brushing against the bare skin of my torso. Eyes flicked to the mirror as my body passed by it, analyzing the intense pattern of scars and wounds that would never disappear. My body was not like the ceiling. Never would my canvas be wiped. The small wardrobe in the corner was my next destination, the wooden knob attached to the door filling my hand. With a pull, the door swings open, revealing the small wardrobe that I currently own. I pick out a shirt deftly, keeping on the soft sweat pants that I slept in. Pulling it over my head quickly, I make my way over to the small chair near the window. The day was ideal for a walk. The day was ideal for anything. Not super hot to the point where I can't take one step without needing a sip of water, however not super cold to the point where a huge jacket became my best friend. The soft breeze was enough to cool your body down. But I wouldn't go anyways.

The door was surely locked. Definitely the main door, but also my bedroom. My mother spent quite a bit of money installing a lock from the outside, also ensuring that our house was high enough up to avoid me escaping through the window. There was no way I could get out, even if I wanted to. Which I didn't. Not out there. The brown orbs in my head scanned across the room, searching for the pencil and notebook that were always nearby. And I was right. On the wooden table beside my bed were the items of my desire. Picking them up, I flicked to the first blank page I could find.

To whoever may receive this. Trapped would be an understatement for my condition. I'm confined, alone and afraid. Sharing the thing that we know as feelings isn't my strongest ability. However, words are still needed to survive in this cruel world. What a fine day it has presented us with though, one that would attract the attentions of any normal person. Yet as I said, I'm trapped. Trapped within four walls that I cannot escape. Don't try to find me for nothing exists but a carcass of what a man used to be.

-Ashton

My lips pressed together tightly, disapproval not wanting to come out. However, with swift and smooth movements, my hands went to work in folding the paper, ensuring that it's sleek edge and soft wings would carry it through the wind, perhaps bringing it to somebody who came from places that I could never imagine. Perhaps somebody cared. With a push, my window slid open. And with a flick, the paper plane soared out of my house, ready to land amongst the ground of some place much better than mine.

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[Matt]

Ellea Banks

Dear Diary,

Yesterday, while taking a stroll through the park, I noticed a girl my age making out with a boy (I just don't understand why they must do it in a family friendly place). The thing is, the girl had recently started a relationship with a very friendly boy of whom I had shared environmental conservation club with. All night I laid in bed, contemplating whether or not to tell Zekk of his girlfriend's betrayal. I finally decided that it was none of my business, and fell asleep. Diary, I just don't understand why these girls must bring themselves to this level. What is so fun about kissing, and having sex, with someone you do not share intimate and personal feelings with? What has happened to love in our time? Whenever I am ready for sex, it will most definitely be with someone I lo-

A slip of paper, folded into an airplane, grazed the lap of Ellea Banks and landed on the bench she was sitting on. A look of peculiarity crossed the face of the girl, as she inquisitively gazed in the direction of which the paper plane flew from. From the corner of her eye, Ellea noticed a window closing in a tower high above the ground that seemed out of place along the rest of the street. To the right of that building was the house of Ellea. It was a very simple house, one floor, with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a dining area. It wasn't anything special, really. It was just Ellea's home.

Turning her attention back to the plane, curiosity got the better of the girl, as she carefully unfolded it. Ellea quickly read the letter inside, frowning at the words that were obviously written by someone who was hurting inside. I must write back, she thought, as she reread the letter once more. Tearing out a piece of paper from the back of her diary, Ellea began to write a response to the mysterious individual.

Dear Ashton,

There is no need to feel alone. I know exactly how you feel, though. As the other girls my age are losing their virginity, I sit at home and read a book. I'm not pretty enough to be doing anything like that, and I don't want to. What's the point in doing such acts if you are not in love? It appears as though we are neighbors. It's strange, I don't believe I've ever met an Ashton before. Are you a Kingsley? That is the name of the family that lives in your house, though I am sure you knew this already. Anyway, if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can always come visit. Or if you don't feel comfortable, We can communicate via the paper airplanes. I've never learned how to make one. Perhaps you could teach me one day. I do look forward to hearing back from you, Mr. Ashton.

Until then,

Ellea Channelle Banks

Ellea folded the letter evenly down the middle, creasing it for good measure. She picked up her handbag and casually strolled over to the Kingsley household. With a long breath, Ellea shoved the letter through the mail slot, knocking on the front door. She immediately sprinted to a nearby tree, taking cover behind the large oak, waiting for the door to open so she would know that Ashton received the letter. She waited so she would know that he was aware that he was not alone.

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I had moved back to my bed after letting the plane float out of the window. Sleep was not welcoming yet, but that was logical as I had just woken up. Sleep, exercise and writing were the only things that I could do to pass my time. Except for the odd time when the psychiatrist would stop by and ask to speak to me. Then I could at least see people, even if it scared me. He believed I had more of an issue than my mother. At least I could come to terms with the fact that I wasn't normal. She just couldn't accept that I was this way now. I guess I liked that she was protective because it gave me a reason to not go outside. I could blame it on her and then just ignore the fact that I was the one afraid of being judged. Yeah, it was just better this way.

And on the odd occasion, there would be a knock at the door, followed by a bit of chatter from my mother and the guest. However, as I heard the tap tap tap on the door and then heard no chatter, I began to get suspicious. The mail route wasn't supposed to come by today, and even then we barely got anything. So, it couldn't have been mail? Pushing myself off the bed, I made my way over to the solid door of my room. I pressed my ear against it carefully, only to hear the loud footsteps of my mother as she made her way up the stairs. I could tell that she wasn't in a good mood today. Although, she's always in a bad mood.

I stepped back just in time. My door swung open, revealing my mother. Her hand was slightly raised, clutching a letter tightly. "This appears to be for you." She muttered rather blandly. Her dark brown hair bounced as she spoke. It was still wrapped around her curlers. Her robe was wrapped tightly around her slim frame and her bare feet were positioned so all her weight was on one. Her dark brown eyes, surrounded by lines due to her age, watched me carefully. "Uh, t-thanks." I stutter, my voice just barely coming out. The deep voice is different from what I usually hear, which is my mother or her female friends that she gossips with. Online one deep voice was in the house once, but I could only hear him for an hour before he left. I didn't want to know what they did.

"Why are you getting letters?" She asked, seeming to glare at me. How would I know the answer to that? I didn't even know what it was. "I d-don't know. Can I have i-it please?" She seemed to debate it for a minute before handing the letter to me. I immediately clutched it tightly between my chest and arm. "This better be the last." She seemed to growl before slamming the door closed, locking it and making her way back down the stairs.

The writing on the front of the envelope was neat and almost elegant, at least compared to mine. I finally revealed the words, which I began to carefully read. It shocked me. Somebody had discovered my letter, that somebody being my neighbor. I had never met the girl before, so it was surprising to see how friendly her tone of writing was. I slowed down as I read her name. Ellea Channelle Banks. The beautiful name was then written out on a new page by my hand. She was my neighbor if she was a Banks child. I had heard my mother say the name once. And now she was the one who was willing to hear my thoughts. So, I wrote.

Miss Ellea Banks,

It is an honor to make your acquaintance, although through the form of words only. Perhaps one day we will meet, but for now I think it is for the best like this. The word you spoke of in your response, love, is one that I've rarely heard. However, I do see your point. But I'm sure it's not due to beauty as you believe it is. I have never laid eyes upon you before but I'm sure that you are beautiful as everybody is beautiful in their own way. Well, most are. I cannot explain the shock that I faced earlier when I received your letter, but it has definitely been the highlight of a day that was looking to be bad. I appreciate your response and your friendly words. I will look forward to a response as well Miss Banks, but do not feel obligated to.

- Ashton Kingsley

I finished with my name, placing the pencil back down on the table. Then, once again, I folded it up and sent it out the window, aiming it towards the house next door this time. Hopefully it would reach the girl again and she could read my words again. And suddenly, everything seemed to be...good. I could finally speak and I finally had somebody to open up to. And if timed correctly, my mother would be out to work soon. That meant I could get the letter without worrying about my mother's curious eyes reading it. If only I could get the door to stay unlocked...

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[Matt]

Ellea Banks

After making sure that the door opened and the letter had fallen safely into the hands of a member of Ashton's household, Ellea Banks casually strolled back to her quaint little house with a large smile plastered upon her too small lips. She continued on with her daily ritual of heading straight to a mirror after being out in public. Ellea wanted to see how horrible she looked to the other citizens of her small district. She felt as though her hair was too frizzy, that her eyes were too far about, that her nose was slightly too large. The teenager admitted to herself that she looked good, but it was not good enough. It would never be good enough until Ellea Banks had achieved perfection.

Ellea smoothed out her long skirt with a floral design etched into the fabric. A strapless white shirt had completed this outfit, with a hidden corset underneath. The girl felt ashamed of letting her belly hang out the way it did. She discouraged herself for not excercising enough, for not dieting enough, for eating that slice of cake. In order to achieve beauty, Ellea Banks would need to be willing to make sacrifices. And Ellea would do anything for the chance to be beautiful.

As Ellea began to walk back into her bedroom, a flash of white flew outside of her window. Another letter! Ashton had written back! With a grin, Ellea bolted out the door, running in order to catch the paper plane before somebody else could. Ellea picked up the letter after it had landed neatly on her front lawn. Before reading it, however, Ellea had decided to go back to her room in order to memorize each and every fold the plane had. She was going to reverse engineer it, in order to impress the boy that lived in the large tower next to her house.

Ellea's eyes scanned the words, as a smile took form on the girl's lips. He called me beautiful. Her mind had con tinued to chant this phrase. The smile then changed into a frown. He was obviously just being friendly. He said it himself that he had never laid eyes on me. Who is he to know that I am beautiful? For all he knows, I could be a filthy, dirty old hag with a crooked nose, covered in warts and wrinkles. Even still, Ellea had appreciated his kind words, even if he truly did not mean them. Taking out a clean sheet of paper, Ellea had began to write yet another response.

Dear Ashton [Your Middle Name Would Go Here, If I Knew It] Kinglsey,

I would like to start off by thanking you for being so kind to me in these letters. Calling me beautiful was really great of you, even though you could never have truly meant it. How can you judge my appearance if you have never laid eyes on me? Let us disregard that for now. I am glad that I was able to brighten a day with a mere letter. Do you find it funny how the simplest of things, such as the written word, can mean so much to a person? It's truly extraordinary how the minor things can truly make an impact. In all honesty, it does hurt that you said you would not like to meet me in person, but I do understand. At least we have these letters to converse with each other. I will send you a picture of myself, folded inside this letter, so you can have an idea of what I look like. I look forward to hearing back from you.

Your Friend,

Ellea Chanelle Banks

Ellea rummaged through her drawers before finding a photograph of Ellea Banks, smiling and happy on a nice sunny day a few weeks prior. With precise folding, Ellea constructed a makeshift airplane for Ashton. Ellea slid the picture into the airplane, before rushing out the door and to the front porch of the Kingsley household. Through the mail slot the paper plane went, as Ellea Banks grinned. She had made a new friend.

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Careful planning was required to keep the door unlocked. For most, it would be done through a simple request. However, in the case of my mother, I needed to be more creative and inventive. The pad of paper sat in front of me on the soft cherry wood desk. I could see a slight reflection of my charred face. Rough ridges were sprawled across my face, massacring any facial details that I might have previously possessed. My eyes sit in their sockets, which are slightly sunken back, whilst the chocolate brown orbs were pointed back at me. It took a bit for me to actually register that the one beautiful thing in that reflection did actually belong to me. My eyes were not scarred like the rest of my face or my thoughts. No, I was lucky to still have them.

The sound of footsteps gets louder. Perfect. My mother has returned to say something else surely. Now would be the only chance to receive another letter from Ellea. If only I could keep the door unlocked or opene- "Ashton, I'll be out all night. He's your food.". My mother's voice was calm and still, as if it didn't bother her at all that she kept her only son locked up in a room day in and day out. I took the small tray of food from her hands, carefully laying it down on my bed. It was the usual. A rough looking loaf of bread that had probably expired last week, a mushy pile of carrots and peas and a small piece of cooked chicken. It usually varied each and every night to a small degree though. Different vegetables or different meat. But it was such a small difference that I just grew to not care.

"T-thanks Mom. Hope you have fun." I utter quietly, trying not to look her in the eyes. She stood there for a bit longer, her weight shifting on to the other foot as she chewed on her cheek. Then she quietly turned around, making her way towards the door. That's when I made my move. Slowly but accurately, I snatched the fork from my plate. And just as she shut the door closed, I jammed it into the hole in the lock, hoping that it would be deep enough to stop the bolt from locking. This was the only thing I could think of and I just hoped it might work. Otherwise, I'd be hopping out the window to get it. My mom would kill me if I received another and she intercepted it, surely. And while it pained me to say that, it was true.

I listened to her as she made her way back down the stairs. It only took a few moments for the door to open and then close again, announcing her leave. I stood by the door for a few more moments, listening for any sound that could mean she returned. Then I proceeded with turning the door knob for the first time in a while. A cold burst of air splashed across my face. It felt soothing. I let the door swing back on the hinges, allowing me a full view of my staircase. It hadn't changed since I saw it last many years ago. Making my way to the top of it, I felt a new feeling inside me. Joy. It was good to see my house once again. Finally. I let out a small laugh at how stupid that sounded and then made my way down the stairs. With each step, I saw more and more of my home, my smile growing larger and larger.

But the biggest shock was when I stepped down onto the main floor and heard the mail slot open. I jumped back behind the wall, only to see a paper airplane fly into the room. She responded. I smile again, making my way slowly to the paper. I quickly snatched it up off the ground, made my way back up the stairs and then plopped down on my bed, being careful not to drop the food. But now that I had access to the kitchen, I could get anything I wanted. I really doubted that I could be any happier. It was different, feeling this way. But I liked it. And I had only started feeling it since I received the first response from Ellea Banks.

My fingers pull the airplane apart carefully, my eyes noticing the extra paper right away. I pulled it out and observed the picture. She's young. That was the first thought that popped into my head. Although, I guess she hinted at that in the letter. Still, it made it even worse that I found her absolutely breath taking. The only people I could ever look at often enough were myself and my mother, which means that I've only ever seen unattractive people. This girl was beautiful though. I slipped the photo behind the letter, wishing to read her words once again. And after seeing her name signed in her elegant writing once more, I prepared myself to write another letter.

Miss Ellea Banks,

My name is Ashton Oliver Kingsley. I apologize that I had not said it before. As for being beautiful, I can truly say now that my words were correct. Beauty isn't always on the outside, but it appears that you are beautiful in both areas. You have to understand that when I say we cannot meet, it is against my will. It is just safer this way. I have to ask why you bother to respond. I can't be very interesting and I'm sure there are others who would be better to spend your time on. You see, I've never been one who communicates well. Especially to people as stunning as you. Unfortunately, I have run out of time to write. I will await for your response patiently.

Sincerely,
Ashton Kingsley

Just like before, I made the letter into an airplane and then made my way to my window. And with a swift flick of the wrist, the plane was sent back over to Ellea.

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[Matt]

Ellea Banks

trolololol

I steal Nofo's ideas for a living.

And this is a WIP <3