You’re the one cultivating evil plants. I’m just here to make sure they don’t turn on you.

Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Current Date: June 22, 2059

Character: Tiberius Daishi
Race: Halfling – Celestian / Demon / Human
Age: 44, physically about 22
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
 

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I don’t know what it is about plants, but I’ve never been comfortable around them. It’s not like I’ve ever killed any—not that I’ve been around that many—and as far as decorative plants are concerned, any that I’ve brought inside have been fake. They look so real, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Live plants? I leave those to Bast. If there are any in the house—I know there are a few—they’re his to take care of. I just don’t want to touch them.

It’s not a life-or-death fear that I might do something that will ruin any of those plants, it’s just a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me uneasy about caring for anything of the sort.

I still tend to the garden. What little of it needs to be tended to because most of the garden is slow-growing shrubs and flowering trees. At most, I have to trim the shrubs just barely and even that is only once every other year or three. I don’t mind cutting the grass as need be and we do have a patch of the yard that is just growing wildflowers, but I also leave it alone. The flowers do their own thing year after year, though we do throw some seeds in now and again if it does look a little patchy but that’s about it.

That patch attracts all sorts of beautiful birds, butterflies and pollinating friends. It’s the one reason I don’t mind the presence of that patch in the yard.

When I stop to think about it, I don’t even really know why I don’t care about the idea of taking care of plants. I do remember watching a movie when I was a kid about this murdering alien-like singing plant that needed to be constantly fed but I don’t know that this is why I’m the way I am. It’s not like I’ve ever been around anyone cultivating things like evil plants if evil plants could even be a thing. I know I don’t have to keep an eye on anyone or ensure that said evil plants don’t turn on that person.

So, I just don’t know.

It’s one of my many quirks, I don’t think Bast minds that much, and if he did, he probably would have told me at this point; I’d try to change for him. I know that’s probably not a healthy thing to say but it’s true enough. I know that left and right everyone says that the person you love more than you love life itself should love you as you are, quirks and all, but I still would be willing to try and overcome this issue with plants if it was a problem for him.

I’m not saying that if it was an all-encompassing fear, say I’d be terrified of heights and it made me so sick to my stomach that it made me physically ill to just be a couple of feet off the ground—which, not the case, I like being high up, I’m just being hypothetical—and it bothered him to the point where we couldn’t be together, then I’d just sort of let us go, if we had to, but I know that won’t happen.

This discomfort around plants isn’t something that’s life-changing for me, I can be around them, I just don’t care for the idea of having to water them and take care of them as they might need. Taking care of myself and Bast as he might need it; it’s plenty on my plate and plants don’t need to be added on to that.

I don’t care what anyone else might say; I mean, I am the way I am, I’m not going to judge someone for wanting to surround themselves with so many plants that green is the dominating colour in their surroundings. They’re free to do what they want and I’m the same. I feel like I’m a pretty simple guy, you could ask Bast.

Let’s be real, I’m more about making sure he’s happy with all he has in life than anything else, so what does it matter that I leave the care of green things to him?

I still remember the first time we really met, it nearly got me in trouble at home; he’d been kept back at school because his tail was being a problem, I walked him home, and walked myself back home after that—several streets down in the opposite direction—and I promptly told my parents that I wanted to sit by him in class because I was sure his tail was misbehaving because he was being kept apart from all the others.

Dad cautioned me against the idea; if I got in trouble because he did, I would have to deal with that as it happened. I was perfectly fine with that, and the rest is sort of history at that point. I had been right about his tail, too. We’ve made it far since that day and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Final Word Count: 850

The fact that the only good thing I did here was an accident, today does not bode well for me.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Tiberius Daishi
Race: Halfling – Celestian / Demon / Human
Age: 41, physically about 22
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
Final Word Count: 768 words
 

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Yesterday, I think that Murphy had it out for me.

Who is Murphy, you might ask? I found out about that through something completely unrelated but some years ago, I learned that there was this thing called Murphy’s Law. The short version of it is that everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Yesterday was completely in tune with that.

I got out of bed and stubbed my toe.

I burned myself while preparing tea.

I cut myself while preparing breakfast.

All little things but they were adding up fast and by the time noon had come around, I was sitting on the couch, I was wrapped loosely in a blanket because I’d done it tighter earlier on and somehow I got actually tangled in the thing and I couldn’t find out how to untangle myself and I was so frustrated I had a brief thought that the thing was trying to strangle me. By that hour, I was fairly decided on not moving from my spot unless I desperately had to, and I had told Bast as much.

The only thing I’d been willing to move for was the bathroom and I’m that type of guy that sort of only goes when he gets up and usually just before going to bed, so I was fine on that count.

Thinking back on yesterday, honestly, I think I gave up just before lunch preparations were done. Somehow, through an actual accident, I discovered an interesting new flavour mix for a bread dough I’d been trying to make to go with dinner. That, in itself, was nice—the new flavour. The fact that it came through an accident and that I’d been happy a shitty day otherwise let me know that the rest of the day was not going to go any better so yeah, by that point, I’d opted to hide out on the couch.

Even from that spot, I didn’t end up being safe from Murphy.

I bit my tongue while chewing on a bite of lunch.

The mug of soup I was carefully—so, so carefully—holding onto actually broke. The handle, more than the mug itself, so thankfully I didn’t end up burned but the floor was a mess and I felt like crying, by that point. I’m not really one for crying, not so much. I might get frustrated by things but crying? Not really my thing but man, by that point, I was just so done.

I tried helping when Bast picked up the mess, but the first piece of the broken mug handle I picked up—carefully, mind you—I cut myself with. I don’t even know how it happened.

All I know is that I seriously considered just hiding out in the VR room without it being on for a while but somehow, I felt like I might just end up suffocating in that room because it totally would have been in tune with Murphy’s grand ideas yesterday. That room is secure, it’s sealed. It’s set up in such a way that if you just secure the door but don’t turn anything on? It’s like a sensory deprivation room. You can’t see anything, your eyes can’t even adjust to the darkness of the room. You can’t hear anything except the beat of your own heart. The temperature in the room is so perfectly balanced to your own when it’s not active that it’s just like you’re floating in absolute darkness.

So I’m sure it’s not that hard to understand that yes, I felt as though it was possible that I was going to end up somehow suffocating in there.

In the long run, I ended up moving from the living room to the bedroom. Curtains closed, door mostly closed. Low, quiet music from my parents because that’s the most soothing thing ever, and I just stayed flopped on that bed until dinner time. We tried again with food and, thankfully, to a point, I managed to eat without too many issues. It was cold food, so no chances of burning myself, it was all finger food, so little chances of choking on it. The only issue that so happened was one sip of water going down the wrong pipe.

I wanted to soak in a long, steaming bath but I was afraid I’d drown by that point, so I opted to just going back into the bedroom.

So far today, things have been going better. I still want my bath and I will get it but, otherwise, I’m all right. I’d like for yesterday to not repeat itself if I can help it, though.

I don’t know what I just got myself into, but I hope I’ll have fun.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Tiberius Daishi
Race: Halfling – Celestian / Demon / Human
Age: 39, physically about 22
Final Word Count: 664 words
 

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I still remember our first visit to the haunted house. It certainly didn’t turn out to be our last, though I was so uncertain when he first mentioned it. I had no idea what I was getting into but, as he looked like he really wanted to go, I let myself be swayed into going and I just was hoping to have fun.

It was a quiet summer day, we both were fresh seventeen and I think that we thought we could take on the whole world, so long as we were together. The exterior of the place didn’t look so bad, it even looked quaint and I thought I was going to have a blast in there.

I’m not going to lie, it was terrifying. At least, that first visit was terrifying. Since I didn’t know what to expect, though I’d seen a few movies and even a handful of documentaries about fairs and mirror houses and rigged games. All in all, I thought I was ready for what was going to happen but I wasn’t, I really wasn’t. For one thing, I’d confused mirror houses and haunted houses together, though perhaps my brain had merged the two together into something less… whatever it was we stepped into.

When I came out of there, I was shaken but for reasons that I never really discussed. I was so certain that I’d seen glimpses of those imaginary friends I’d had for a year while I was younger. Those friends who hadn’t really been friends. Those friends who had bullied me to no end. Some of the ghostly figures I saw while we were in there—animatronics, during our first visit, though it changed later on—looked just so much like these people that I knew hadn’t been real that it had terrified me. I spent a whole week being unable to sleep more than a few moments here and a few moments there. It wasn’t fun.

I think it took almost four years before we went back a second time. By then, Morgen and Timoteus had changed things around; they’d made the place their own more than what it had been at first. Most animatronics were gone, replaced by holograms and things that were more up to date as far as our little corner of the world was concerned. I didn’t get as terrified that time around, though I was almost in tears at the idea of going back.

Eventually, I did break down and cry about it. Before we got to the place for our second visit. Probably a week or so before the day we decided we’d go. I told him about everything, I told him things I’d never even told my parents. I told him about the imaginary friends I’d had, how they’d all been bullies, their behaviours, their looks and how some of the animatronics had reminded me of them, everything. I don’t think I spared any details.

I slept so long after that particular bit of information-spew that I’m sure some folks could have been worried because I never sleep that long otherwise.

We did go back, we’ve gone back now and then since. None of the faces in the holograms or in the new setup reminded me of my past; reminded me of the horrors I’d lived through for a whole year and I can’t put into words just how glad I am for that. It’s just so rare that I refuse him anything, it’s not in my nature and he’s never asked me anything that I felt uncomfortable with, but if our second visit had been anything like our first, I would have had to refuse subsequent visits, I don’t think I could have managed to handle them at all and I don’t like feeling broken, so I wouldn’t have forced myself to it.

I don’t know why I never told anyone about the imaginary friends thing. I guess there hadn’t been a need for it.

Sometimes, I even sleep.

 
Timeline/World: Atheria – 3rd Generation
Characters: Tiberius Daishi
Race: Halfling – Celestian / Demon / Human
Age: 39, physically about 22
Final Word Count: 619 words
 

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I know I’m not the only one who’s had imaginary friends.

I can’t be.

There wouldn’t be books, stories and even some documentaries about it if it was such an unusual thing. I just wish my imaginary friends had been nicer. I don’t know why they were the way they were. I don’t know if it was because of Cris’s behaviour or if it was just my imagination; it’s pretty hard to tell, in the long run.

The thing is that my imaginary friends were bullies. I should have told my parents about it but at the same time, to me, they were real but they weren’t and telling my parents about something that wasn’t real wouldn’t have helped much, would it have?

One thing I am pretty glad for is that these imaginary friends didn’t stay with me very long. In the span of a year, they had come, multiplied and then gone. I started with just the one and it wasn’t such a bad friend, it was playful but it had mood swings. Then, before I knew it, I had four. Not a single one of them was really nice, not in the way I imagined friends were supposed to be. Two of them constantly picked on me and one seemingly refused to sleep while the fourth only slept during the day and stayed awake at night.

Needless to say, my nights were short during that year.

I still mostly managed to sleep but it was through sheer exhaustion most of the time. Not that these imaginary friends of mine bothered me all of the time, on some days, I wouldn’t even catch a single glimpse of any of them (and was I ever glad) but on other days, they were all over the place and they wouldn’t leave me alone.

I know I cried myself to sleep a few times and I went to my fathers, just completely exhausted, crawling into bed with them long after I’d grown out of wanting to sleep in their room with them, simply because these so-called friends of mine wouldn’t leave me alone but they miraculously never went into my parents’ room.

There are times when I was sure I saw them disappear into Cris’s room but I never dared to ask her if she was seeing them. I didn’t want her to pick on me, not while I had these jerks already doing just fine of a job of that on their own.

By the end of that year, one by one, they began to fade away. The jerk that would never sleep went first. The one who slept during the day but stayed awake at night went second. The third one left without even so much as a wave goodbye and for a month or two, I was left with the first one that had ever popped up. It was easier then; it was quieter, calmer. I could almost handle having the one imaginary friend but in the end, it left just like the others.

I’ve never really talked to anyone about this whole thing. At times, I think I imagined it and how long it took for these things to leave but I don’t think I did. I read up a lot on it a few years back, mostly because I found old scribbles I’d done of things back then and I found so many that showed all four together and I couldn’t have just imagined them all, not in the way something comes and goes from the mind. These felt so real.

I’ll never know in the end and I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I have no need for imaginary friends, after all. Not anymore.

Stop giggling!

Timeline/World: Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Tiberius Daishi
Race: Halfling – Celestian / Demon / Human
Age: 37, physically about 22
Final Word Count: 528 words

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Alcohol is a rare occurrence at home unless we’re using it in a recipe that calls for it. I don’t know why I’m just not fond of the whole thing, it’s not like I ever woke up with a hangover of anything, I just never really cared for alcohol for as long as I can remember and that’s just that.

Now and again though, more like once in a blue moon, there’s something in Mokai’s shop front that catches my eye and I’ll bring it home for us to try. Up until now, none of what I brought up turned out to be a success, it wasn’t bad, it tasted okay most of the time but the alcohol still was stronger in taste than the subtle under-flavouring it was boasting so I was more than fine with shelving them until I could find recipes to use them in.

A little while ago, the one bottle I got, more for the looks and the fact that I knew Bast would likely squee over it was a bottle of Unicorn Tears. Playfully lame in a way but the contents were pretty interesting to the eye, a sort of just glimmery something in there. I think it’s gin but I haven’t even given it to him yet and I’m not sure if we’ll open it or not, I really did just get it to add to his adorably ever-growing collection of unicorn things.

Last night though, in the window as I was walking back home from the market, I saw a bottle that claimed to be a cherry liqueur. Now, I know that usually, or maybe not I could be wrong, most liqueurs are dessert things, they’re supposed to be sweet. I couldn’t help it, I’d been preparing to make a black forest gateau for dessert that night, a rare treat honestly, and the idea of cherry liqueur was interesting. So into my bags, the bottle went before I was back home.

That was hours ago, of course, dinner was prepared and had, dessert was had as well as a couple of small glasses of the cherry stuff and so far it’s not actually so bad, I can taste the cherry and just a bare hint of the alcohol that makes it what it is. Every time I look back at the bottle, I notice it seems to be a little emptier but when I look at my glass, the amount never really changes so I’m sort of wondering and the giggling that’s been ongoing for a while now isn’t helping.

I mean, I don’t feel bad. I honestly feel a little floaty and maybe a little fuzzy; I guess that should be a sign? I don’t really care right now, it’s an interesting feeling. Not one I want to be feeling every day of my life but right now it’s just a nice way to end a quiet little day, good food and delicious dessert and just, yeah. I like this liqueur, going to have to see about maybe keeping a bottle around for special occasions. Maybe. I don’t know. That depends on the giggles, I think. Probably?