Sunset Shimmer took a deep breath, her hands clutching tightly to the chain-link fence in front of her. Her heart raced. A bead of sweat ran down the right side of her face. She had never done this before.
She was terrified. She was excited. And she hated it.
Ever since Sunset and her friends acquired their mysterious powers, she had noticed a definite change within herself. Her power allowed her to see the thoughts, feelings, or memories of those she came in physical contact. Except, this power came with a price.
“Shake it off,” she muttered to herself. “Be cool. Be collected. Shove all those feelings aside for, like, three minutes.”
She let go of the fence and leaned her back against it. She looked to the sky, breathing in the fiery red and golden rays that painted the wide canvas above her. She could feel the watch on her wrist ticking each second away.
‘He should be here by now,’ she thought. ‘No, maybe I’m just feeling impatient.’
Her gaze moved down to the horizon and she examined the far-off blanket of city that unraveled around her in every direction. From the cars that casually puttered away, their headlights flickering to life, to the various people walking the street, finding their way home.
Home.
She paused at that word, the meaning of that word spinning in her mind, generating new purpose and questioning it. Of course, this world of humans and technology is her home. Her new home. But there was also another place, far away from here. It’s easy to think of home as something singular. But…
She looked down to the concrete ground of the school roof, examining her tennis shoes. Was she too informally dressed? She’s wearing what she’d wear any other day of the week. Well, except for her most comfortable socks and bra. Sometimes you just need to have a comfy day.
‘This is a terrible idea,’ she thought to herself. ‘I should just head home. There’s no way-’
And then the door to the roof clicked open. Sunset’s head raised as the door creaked ever so slightly open. Her eyes focused and standing in the doorway was a familiar figure. There he was. He was tall and lanky, almost as if his body decided to grow upward and give a metabolism of a giant, but forget the strength. He had short, messy brown hair and a pale blue skin tone as he stepped into the light. In his hand, he held a letter.
Her letter.
Her heart skipped a beat. She blinked in disbelief.
“You came,” she said, her voice betraying her attempt to conceal surprise. “And you got my letter.”
“Yeah,” he said, the door closing behind him with a dull thud. “It was the only thing in my locker. I couldn’t miss it.”
Sunset blushed, holding her right arm at the elbow with her left. She suddenly realized she had no idea what she was doing with her hands. Was this normal? Is this casual? Well she couldn’t just let them hang there.
‘Oh god this is stupid, just act natural.’
“I’m guessing you read it then, huh?” she asked, turning away to the fence.
“Yeah,” he said his voice trailing off. “I guess I’m just… confused.”
“Confused?” Sunset asked, her head perking.
She could hear him uncurl the note. She heard the words read aloud to her.
"I'm not the best at putting my feelings into words... Meet me on the roof after school. I want to tell you something. If I don't, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Please don't leave me waiting…" he read slowly.
A dense silence hung between them, the words hanging in the air like a thick fog. She felt something hitch in her chest.
“What did you think it meant?” Sunset asked.
“I… I don’t know,” he said. “We haven’t even talked before.”
“Well, sort of,” she said. “But- um.”
“But?” he asked, taking a few steps closer.
“It’s not important,” she said. “I wanted to...” However her words caught in her throat. She suddenly felt a chill run through her body as he stepped nearer. She began to make out the lines of his face more succinctly. There was a handsomeness to his curious expression, but also something else. A timidness. A caution. She supposed that was to be expected. After all, she had lured him here.
“Well, if it’s not important, then I probably should-”
“No!” she said. “I wanted to talk to you. It’s important. Just… well. I think it’s important.”
He took another few steps forward.
“What is it?” he asked gently, curiously.
“I-I wanted to spend more time with you,” she said. “That’s weird. That came out weird.” Sunset stammered and turned putting her hands on the fence. “I’ve never really done this before. And I’m screwing it all up. I just-”
“Hey,” he said, cutting off her words. She turned and there he was, standing beside her. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sunset let loose a breath that she held in her chest, and she felt somewhat more at ease, even if the chill hadn’t dissipated just yet.
“I hate these fences,” she said. “They’ve always felt so confining to me.”
“Yeah,” he added, looking to the barrier in front of them. “Aren’t they new?”
“Not really,” she said. “Just nobody notices them, because they don’t come up here much.”
“Right,” he said, his voice hinting he wasn’t sure what else he should add.
Sunset nodded and began to regain control of her thoughts.
“My name’s Sunset,” she said. “I’ve been seeing you around a lot recently. And… well. I just had to talk to you.”
“Really?” he said. “Are we in the same class together?”
“Yeah, chemistry,” she said. “I sit in the back.”
“God, I hate Mrs. Worther,” he said, placing his hands on the chain fence. “She’s been here forever. She should just retire already.”
Sunset smirked, but shook her head.
“You’d be surprised how much she cares about all of the students here,” she added.
“Well, she’s terrible at showing it.”
“To that I think we can agree,” she chuckled.
A wind blew and it felt as if the world around them grew warmer, more comforting. She took a deep breath, knowing that her opportunity to say what she wanted to was closing.
“I’ve always liked this place,” he said, “I used to come up here for lunch all the time. It was the only place I could get some quiet.”
“Same for me. I always come up here for lunch to get away,” she said.
Sunset looked to the teen beside her, examining his t-shirt and jeans. The band on the shirt he wore was a bit outdated by her tastes, but was well kept.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Sunset asked firmly.
The young man paused, placing a hand on his head, his expression contorting. His mind reveled in thought before his posture relaxed.
“I’m actually coming back to school this weekend. I volunteered to help the librarian move books from some of the old classrooms. Er, well. It’s more like, it’ll pay off my overdue fines.”
“The only things that are inevitable in life are death and library fines,” Sunset joked.
The young man laughed, looking off into the distance. “Isn’t that the truth?”
Sunset smiled and then turned to him. It was time. She felt courage begin to well in the pit of her stomach. This had to be done.
She’d hate herself if she didn’t at least try.
“I’m going to do something… crazy,” she said to him. “W-would you want to join me?”
He turned to her, his face unsure, cautious once more.
“Sure,” he said slowly.
“Alright,” she said.
She placed her hands on the fence and latched a foot in one of the holes. She pulled herself up, then latched another foot, and another. She scaled the fence up, and clutched her hands tightly to the top bar.
“What are you doing, Sunset?” he asked. His eyes widened and he backpedaled in surprise.
“What’s life without a little bit of an adrenaline rush?” she said. A breeze came up and her clothes rustled around her, she looked down to the boy, whose expression only grew darker.
She held tightly to the chain fence as she eased herself down. One foot, then another. She felt her breath hitch once again. The world felt cold. Unforgiving. Painful.
“Sunset, come back on this side,” he said. “You could get hurt.”
“Oh, come on,” she coaxed. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
He opened his mouth, but he paused. His expression grew taut. His breath gave way. He placed a hand to his temple, as if seized by some sort of migraine.
Sunset paused, feeling her feet touch the edge of the final foot of roof. Her knuckles grew white from holding onto the fence.
‘Don’t look down,’ she thought to herself. ‘Then you’ll chicken out.’
“You know what could happen,” he said firmly.
“Tell me,” Sunset said, her voice ever so inviting. “Join me.”
He paused, his body straightening, but the pain in his head never relenting.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Everest?” she asked.
He paused, standing opposite of Sunset on the fence, looking into her eyes.
“I never told you my name,” Everest said.
Sunset smiled faintly and nodded.
“You’re right,” she said. “Why do you think I know that?”
He paused.
“You said yourself… We’re in the same classes.”
Sunset looked up into his glossy eyes coyly.
“I lied.”
“What?” he asked blankly.
“Tell me, Everest Miller, if we both have lunch on the roof, why have we never seen each other?”
He took a step back.
“Different periods...” he mumbled.
“See, what’s strange to me, is that Mrs. Worther retired last year,” Sunset continued. “And she sure seemed to know a whole lot about you. A whole lot. Why do you think you were so memorable to her?”
He looked around at the roof, taking one step away from Sunset.
“There wasn’t a fence on this roof...”
“That’s right,” Sunset continued.
She felt her foot slip. She gasped as she felt her body weight transfer to her arms, but she regained her balance and continued on.
“This fence was installed five years ago.”
“What are you doing to me?!” Everest screamed, turning to her. “This is wrong! This is all wrong!”
“Do you know why the fences were put up, Everest?”
The boy fell silent. He fell to his knees.
“Don’t do this,” he pleaded.
“I need you to say it,” she said.
“I can’t. It hurts.”
Sunset took a deep breath.
“I didn’t write that note, Everest. You did.”
An explosion of feelings crashed through the air, pulsing, breathing outward from Everest. A freezing chill. Sunset exhaled, leaving cloudy wisps in the air.
“What did you do on the roof, Everest?” Sunset asked.
The boy began to shake, his body, trembling. He looked up to Sunset, his eyes cloudy and dull.
“I just wanted to stop hurting, Sunset. Every single day it just felt like it was getting worse and worse...”
“The bullying?” she asked. “Why didn’t you ask for help? The teachers-”
“Wouldn’t do anything,” he said. “I just wanted to reach out to someone. Anyone.”
Sunset could feel her fingers freezing to the fence she clung to for dear life. One slip up and she would be finding a new home. As long as she held tight enough, she would belong here.
“But nobody came.”
“It hurt so much,” he said. “So I...”
He paused. And then, it grew warmer. And warmer. Everest stood up.
“I remember everything,” he said.
Sunset pulled herself up and over the fence faster than she dreamed she could. Everest stood still, looking off into the distance.
“Now… what do I do?” he asked.
“I’ve got to be honest,” Sunset continued. “This is my first time too. I suppose… it’s time for you to go home.”
He turned to her and nodded.
“I suppose it’s not right… staying here. Holding onto the past,” he paused, looking to the ground. “I guess. Sometimes holding onto that pain… just made me feel alive. So I wanted to keep hurting.”
The words weighed heavily in the air. Sunset’s mind turned, crunched, trying to find the right combination of words that felt correct. Or even more important, authentic.
“But now, you can find a new home. A home where you don’t have to hurt anymore. Where things can finally be better.”
He looked off to the distance and nodded gently.
“I suppose I won’t know until I try.”
At that, a breeze came up, and he began to fade away. Tiny speck by tiny speck, he blew away, like spores in the wind, twisting and turning on whatever path they’re pushed on.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice trailing, drifting.
And then, he was gone. And there Sunset stood on the roof, feeling the warm summer air around her and feeling a new sense of peace overcome her surroundings. She sighed, and stepped forward, a new fire in her chest. A new path in front of her.
Her power allowed her to see the thoughts, feelings, or memories of those she came in physical contact. However, some feelings and memories don’t have a physical form to contain them. They live and breathe in the air, incorporeal to us. These memories can persist within our world, and survive long after their physical form leaves.
She couldn’t help but feel somewhat surprised at what she had accomplished that day. Sunset wondered if there was a name for those who can feel these memories and help them find their true home. She’d find her answer one day in a movie that her friends took her to.
A whisperer.
Author's Note
