The Problem With Reading And Writing Leading To A Strong Vocabulary Is That You Tend To Know The Vibe

She sighed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I shrugged. “Just trying to lighten the mood, Sara. You look tense.”

She growled - growled! - at me. “Look, we only have 5 more minutes before this thing explodes. Or…whatever it’s going to do. I’d rather not find out. Pass me that paper.”

I pantomimed zipping my lips, and sat back, watching her frantically scribble on the paper, trying to figure out the right code to shut off the machine.

3 minutes went by. I couldn’t help myself. “Need help yet?”

Sara was practically shaking with nerves. “I can’t figure it out! I’ve tried everything!”

I leaned forward and gently took the paper out of her hands. She tried to snatch it back and I tossed it in the trash.

She threw up her hands in frustration. “Fine! You try then!” She glanced at the timer.

A minute and a half.

I grinned as I leaned around her and pressed a few buttons. The timer started counting down faster.

I winced. “Whoops.”

Sara groaned and slumped down with her head in her hands.

I rolled my eyes and pressed a few more buttons, making the machine stop counting completely. She slowly looked up. “Wha- How? I mean, thank you, but…”

I gave her a mock bow. “If you had listened to me before, I could have told you that I had two codes to try. Got one out of the genius’ brother and the other out of the maker himself. Didn’t know which was the right one, but I was about 75% sure one of them would work.”

Sara blushed sheepishly. “I- sorry. I should have listened to you.”

I shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, you were only off by one number.”

She hugged me. “Thanks. Now what do we do?”

I grinned mischievously, and grabbed a bat from the corner of the garage.

Writing Prompt #2782

"Would you stop trying to help?" She snapped. "You're getting in the way. I just need to do things my way right now."

"Oh. Yeah. I'll just...sit here and be eye candy. That's all I'm good for."

"Oh. Yeah, it was tricky. Thankfully, I'm very smart. What do you think?"

"Unfortunately, I'm impressed."

“How could you?” “I can expla-“ “No, I don’t mean morally. Logistically how could you even pull something like this off?”

He shrugged as much as was possible, what with all the ropes holding him in place against the pole.

"Honestly, I'm good with either one."

The villian stopped her pacing. "Huh?"

He shrugged again. "I dunno, I'm kinda done with all this hero stuff. They ask me to do things that keep me up at night. If I'm dead, they can't make me do stuff anymore!"

She paused, staring at him in fascination. "That is...slightly morbid."

"And," he continued. "Let's be objectively honest. You're a gorgeous person."

The villian couldn't help her blush, though she crossed her arms and turned away to hide it, resuming her pacing.

The hero watched her for a few more minutes before he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Did you...did you really want to kiss me - or kill me - or was that just messing with my head? I can never tell with you."

She ignored him and walked away, out of his sight line. He could hear her rummaging through what he assumed were her possessions. Several minutes later, the villian walked back into view, carrying a backpack that was obviously stuffed.

One eyebrow raised as the hero asked, "Going somewhere?"

She raised her eyebrows right back. "Yeah, to my sister's place. If you don't want to do this little dance anymore, it takes all the fun out of it."

"Now, I didn't say that-"

"So," she interrupted. "Wanna come with me?"

Writing Prompt #2848

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Kiss you. Kill you. I'm not sure yet."

I watched through half closed eyes as my wife “snuck” back into the bedroom, discarding her clothes and changing back into her pajamas before she slid into bed with me.

I hid a smile as I stirred, making her freeze. 

I mumbled, “Hey, baby. Did you get up?”

Her voice was pinched and high as she squeaked, “No! Just the bathroom!”

The snicker almost escaped, but I covered it by rolling back over. I fell asleep, only to wake up the next morning to find a note on the kitchen table.

“Sorry I missed you! My job needs me to travel for a few days. There's a convention in Springdale. Love you!”

I laughed out loud as I made my coffee. There wasn’t a convention center in Springdale. There wasn’t even a hotel.

A week later, she was late to my birthday party. 

A loose term, considering it was the two of us and a cake I picked up from the store. Oh, and some takeout! Didn’t want to cook.

She ran in the door. “Sorry, sorry! Got held up at the… office.” She hung up her coat and hat, coming over and kissing me deeply. 

I paused, pulling away slightly. “Love, do you smell something?”

She shook her head, confused. “No. What’s wrong? What do you smell?”

I hid my grin. “It almost smells like…blood. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

Her eyes went huge as she squeaked, “No! I’m fine! Must be…dirt! Tripped outside!”

I took a huge bite of cake. “Ah. My mistake. Hey, I was thinking of taking up a new hobby. What do you think about me becoming an assassin?”

I watched gleefully as she spit out a huge gulp of water, a true spit take. Finally, I am unable to hold in my excitement, laughing as she coughs and wipes her mouth.

Then she glared at me. “How long have you known?!”

I felt almost guilty when I said, “12 years.”

The look on her face was worth every second of it.

Your spouse (erroneously) thinks they’ve done a good job hiding the fact that they’re an assassin for hire from you. You’ve known for years now, but find just how awful they are at hiding it endearing, and don’t want to spoil it for them.

I frown. "You have a therapist?"

He scoffs. "I kill people for a living. Of course I have a therapist! Pamela is completely qualified, if that's what you're worried about."

My brow furrows. "So...you want me, your public nemesis number 1, to come to your home, chill in your guest room, and chat with your therapist?"

He rolls his eyes. "That's not...actually, yeah. That's pretty accurate."

"Why?"

"I need someone around that I'm not paying to keep me company."

I think that was supposed to be a joke, but his delivery was a bit to dry, too forced. Is he...lonely? I shake my head. "But why are you offering that to me? What if I say no?"

He growls. "I just offered you mercy. Your life. And your questioning me? I threatened your life and you actually asked me to.... I don't think you're okay." He folds his arms as if to say, I win. Give it your best shot. The prick even raises his eyebrows to taunt me. Jerk.

I grit my teeth. "So you just want me to sit around your house all day? Where's the fun in that?"

He rubs a hand on his temples. "What part of 'talk to my therapist' did you not understand? I'm serious. We've been fighting over this kingdom for years, and you've always put up a fight."

I know when I've lost a fight, and this is no different. I have a feeling that even if I sit down and refuse to move, he would knock me out and take me back anyway.

I sigh. "Fine, I'll meet Pamela. She better be a good listener."

Under the mask, I think I can see a smile. "She is."

And I know I must have imagined it, but later, I could swear that he mumbled under his breath, "And so am I."

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

"Sorry, can't help you," the council says, the head mage waving his hand. Everything fades away, and I find myself in the archmage's cottage.

I kick and throw some stuff out of irritation for awhile, shouting at the ceiling. But when I kick the bed, the end post falls off, revealing a hollow hole inside.

I reach in, and find a small journal. Curious, I sit down on the bed and open it up.

"Dear reader, if you are reading this, it means I have FINALLY found a way out!!! Bless you, for you are most likely the one to thank for this turn of events.

"You see, I (an archmage, for 200 years), was never supposed to be. I cannot do magic to save my life, as you have most likely found out firsthand. I am not even sure how I ended up with the position, as I never dueled the previous archmage. The council simply appeared one day and declared it so. And so here I am, writing this book to tell you how I have managed for two centuries without magic."

My eyes are huge as they scan the pages. A few pages in, I discover that the previous arachmage, while unable to do much magic, was quite accomplished at potion work.

Anytime someone came to him needing something, or he was called upon to solve a problem, or banish a beast, he found or made a potion of some kind to suit the problem.

The book is filled with potions recipes, words to speak over them, infusions to add to objects.

"All this time," I marvel. "Maybe the council knew what they were doing after all. It wasn't magic the archmage was performing.

"It was science."

You are a terrible mage, yet through pure, dumb luck you managed to defeat an archmage in a duel, thus taking their place according to ancient tradition. Many mages protest against giving such a prestigious position to a clearly unqualified candidate, including yourself.

The prophetess gave me a look. “That’s disgusting.”

I shrugged, unable to keep the smug grin off my face. “But it worked. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. And, I got a date!”

She groaned. “Priorities, Isabel, priorities!”

I frowned. “I’m sorry, was “get Isabel a man” not number one?”

“No!”

I laugh. “Teasing, Anna! Chill out. He’s cute!”

Anna groaned again. “Please, just call it off. Fight him, win, everything is solved.”

She rubbed her temples as I shook my head apologetically. 

“Sorry,” I said. I really was a bit sorry. I liked Anna. Truthfully, I had gone to the meeting place with every intention of ending everything. But he was just so sweet, and when we started talking, we couldn’t stop. Masks came off, and one thing led to another and then we were kissing. 

When I relayed the details of the meeting to Anna, she could only shake her head.

“I hope you’re happy,” she grumbled. “Messing with prophecies and fate. It’s a nasty business, and you never know how it’ll turn out.”

I didn’t respond, knowing my words would only hurt. I turned and left the room, hiding my face.

Anna was my best friend, and I didn’t want her to see the hurt she had caused me. 

I would go on my date tonight with the former villain, and hopefully Anna would still be here when I got back. 

No one, not even my best friend, could tell me what to do.

"I said you were destined to lock fists with the villain! Not lips!" "Well it worked, didn't it?"

I groan as the well-meaning hero handcuffs me. For the third time this week.

“I’m telling you, all she wanted to do was say goodbye!”

The hero scoffs, tossing her hair. “Uh huh. Then would you care to explain why there was someone who was supposed to be dead marching down Main Street, terrorizing the locals?”

I try to rub my forehead, forgetting about the handcuffs, wincing with pain when they pinch my skin. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know things would get this out of hand. I’m just trying to help! You’ve got to stop arresting me for that!”

The hero gets a serious look in her eyes. “Okay, let’s get a few things straight. First, I’m not arresting you. I’m detaining you, for the main purpose of protecting you from some very angry locals. Second, I know you’re trying to help, which is the main reason you haven’t been actually arrested yet. Third, I want to help you! We’ve been over this before!”

I roll my eyes, wincing at the ache behind them. Raising the dead comes with a price.

The hero sighs and starts digging around in her backpack. “You forgot aspirin again, didn’t you?” She helps me swallow it before she continues talking. “If you would just talk to me before you go rushing off next time. I could have told you that in this particular case, the woman you raised was arrested twice in the last five years of her life. I would have told you it wasn’t a good idea, that she might try to seek revenge.”

I shrug, as well as I can with my hands behind my back. “The dead can be unpredictable. At least Shelly got to say goodbye to her sister. They’re twins, you know.”

“You’ve got to leave,” the hero whispers. She doesn’t meet my eyes. “It’s too hard here. You keep raising people that turn on you. Everyone else - and I mean everyone - wants to stop you for good. Take away your powers. You know that you can’t stay here anymore. I’m the only one who backed you this time.”

I stare for a minute. “Wha- leave? Like…for good? I’d need to- to pack…”

She wordlessly pulls a second backpack from inside hers. I’d never understood how she fit so much inside that thing. I recognize it as my own backpack, and it looks full.

“I just needed you to listen to me,” she says quietly, unlocking the cuffs. 

I rub the feeling back into my wrists as she hands me my backpack. I peek inside.

“There’s water, food, aspirin, a few changes of clothes, and some money in there.” The hero says, zipping up her own backpack. “I stuck a few other things in there too. There should be a map somewhere. Your best bet is probably the river town a few days from here. Good luck.”

I stare at her as she starts to walk away. I find my voice. “Wait.”

She turns.

“Won’t they be mad at you for letting me go? Again?”

She nods without a sound.

“Thank you,” I whisper, still shocked at her kindness.

She starts to walk away again, saying over her shoulder, “You’re welcome.”

“Wait.”

She pauses.

“Aren’t you coming?”

You’re a necromancer, but only ever use your magic for good, like letting the dead and living alike get closure, or raising fallen enemies to hand them over to the proper authorities. Only problem is that heroes usually think that you’re one of the bad guys.

I stared at him in horror. My best friend, my companion since childhood, knelt before me, holding out his sword.

“What have you done?” I whispered.

Kyle stood grimly, sheathing his sword. “What needed doing.”

I stomped my foot like a petulant child, my eyes filling with tears. “How could you?!”

Kyle looked away and didn’t answer.

I grabbed his hand. “That oath can’t be undone! Ever! You’re stuck!”

He refused to meet my eyes, gently extracting his hands from mine. “I know.”

The tears spilled over. “This isn’t what I wanted, Kyle.”

He winced. “I know.”

I kicked his shin in frustration. Not my smartest idea, as he was fully clad in armor. I hopped in pain for a moment. Kyle failed to hide his smile, but quickly schooled his expression.

I regained my footing and swiped the tears from my eyes. I stood straight and faced him. 

“I am mad at you.” I declared with my arms crossed.

Kyle nodded and bowed his head. “I would expect nothing less, Lady Isabelle.”

I stared for a moment, shaken at hearing my formal title come from his lips. He had never called me that before, not once. He barely called me my given name at all. 

I shook my head slowly, saddened. “Is- Is this what it is to be like now? Why? Why did you do it, Kyle?”

He looked away again. “You will be protected.”

I growled. “I can protect myself!”

He shook his head and met my eyes. “Not from this.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “From what?!”

His voice was barely a whisper. “There is…a plot. Stirring in the village. And if it’s here, it’s all over the kingdom. The people will rise and try to overthrow the rulers. The royal family, down to the children, the dukes, duchesses, their children. Anyone holding a title. Women and children alike. I can’t let you be a part of that…massacre.”

I was speechless for a few minutes, pacing back and forth in anger. “And you couldn’t just, I don’t know, TELL ME?!”

He shook his head, laughing. “Would you have listened? I know you, Lady Isabelle.”

“Stop calling me that!”

Kyle shrugged. “You wouldn’t have listened, and you know it! This was the only way. We are both bound by the oath now, until death.”

I started walking away in disgust, not caring if he followed me. A moment later, I heard his footsteps join mine, crunching a few feet behind me.

“You know,” I said quietly, looking straight ahead as I walked. “I may not have listened to you. But that was not the oath I wanted.”

Kyle didn’t say a word.

I continued. “I meant every word I said. I assume you did too, so I truly do not know why I am telling you this, but every word I said was true. You have been my best friend since that day you found me in the stables. My companion, the only person I could talk to as an equal.”

He stumbled behind me. I paused my steps until I heard him resume walking, but I did not turn my head.

“I truly love you.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I always have. Did you not ever wonder? At my feelings, at your own? Am I…incorrect in assuming you ever felt the same way about me?” 

I held my breath, unsure of the answer, unsure if I would even receive one, or one I even wanted to hear.

Kyle didn’t speak for a long moment. We were almost down the mountain when I finally heard him exhale and begin to speak. Neither of us looked at the other.

“Thank you for your honesty. Truly. I have always…tried to protect you and help you in whatever way I could.”

I couldn’t help groaning. “Just tell me the truth!” I turned to look at him. “I thought you always told me the truth, even when it was hard! Was I wrong about any of it? All of it? Tell me now! Just tell me! If there was ever a time for your honest truth, it’s RIGHT NOW!”

Kyle finally lost his composure. “Of course I did, Belle! I knew everything. Your feelings for me, mine for you, and most importantly, how bad it would be if we ever acted on them in any way.”

I blinked slowly, tears spilling again. Surprisingly, there are tears in Kyle’s eyes too. I opened my mouth, then shut it and turned away.

“Thank you,” I said stiffly, walking over to my horse. I started undoing his tether as Kyle walked up behind me.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Lady Isabelle.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I am sorry though.” Kyle boosted me into my saddle without waiting for the request. 

I looked over at him from atop my horse, quiet as he mounted his own. 

Finally, I spoke one last time. “I just want to say one more thing, and then we will put this whole matter behind us, assuming our new roles to each other, understood?” 

I hated taking my official tone with him, but Kyle just nodded calmly, waiting for my words.

“I will never forget what you have done. I have wished for years to take an oath with you before me, but it was not that one, and now it never will be. That decision will haunt me for the rest of my life, having been taken away from me without my consent. But as it stands now, I will be forced to move on, and you will be forced to watch as I marry another and bear children that should have been yours. I never cared about your status, or mine, for that matter. I would have left with you the moment you breathed a word of it. Thank you for protecting me. Should the moment arrive that we are to flee, I will go with my household, you behind me. Until then, I think it best that we keep our distance.”

I turned my horse in the direction of my house and urged my horse on, not looking back at him.

I didn’t want him to see the tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I pledge to you my life-"

"wh-what?"

"As your protector and knight"

"wait stop. No-"

"to serve you-"

"please stop. Not like this"

"and stand behind you"

"No- stand with me n-not-"

"I pledge to you my loyalty and from this moment on. I shall honor and protect, put your liege before my own-"

"stop. I bid you to take it back!"

"From now my life is yours and I shall serve you with honor"

"This is no oath I ever desire from you!"

"I shall become the sword that will protect you"

"There must be another way-"

"I will aid you to the top"

"There's no height I will reside upon without you by my side!"

"I am your loyal servant"

"No- you're the only one who isn't. You're my companion, my love, the only one by my side. Don't do this, please"

"who will reside behind you until my bones turn to dust and my heart sets to a stop"

"N-no.....please"

*turned out longer than intended, but I tried*

"Wait, so what do I do?"

Death turns and starts walking away. "Doesn't matter to me. I can't help you, sorry!"

With a huff of irritation, I find my way home. Strangely, I can't open the door; my hand passes right through the doorknob. But, when I try to go through it, all I get is a nasty bruise.

"Strange," I mutter to myself, inspecting the door. "Didn't expect that."

I end up waiting at the door of my former home for a few hours before my twin brother gets home. He parks his car and comes up, pulling out his keys.

As he unlocks the door, I slip in behind him. "Thanks," I say, even though I know he can't hear me.

He stops and tilts his head to the side for a second before shaking his head and setting his things down.

I freeze. Did he just hear me?

"Luke?" I try. "Can you- Can you hear me?"

He makes no movement that he did, and I deflate. Now what?

Upon further exploration, I discover that I can only touch things that belonged to me while I was alive. Books of mine? Yes. The TV remote that Luke bought? No. The crossword puzzle book that was a gift from Mom for both of us? Somehow works? The house that Luke bought and had let me live in for a few months? Apparently that was also a no.

With no idea what else to do, I sat down and started reading a book.

A few hours later, a loud crash sounds from the kitchen. I jump up, and find Luke making dinner (and dropping a pan on the floor). I'm about to turn around and leave, knowing he's okay, when I realize that there are tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Dang it," he whispers, picking up the pan. "Why is everything going wrong today?"

Right on cue, his phone rings. He answers it and sits down to talk to the caller.

"Hey, Mom. ... No, just making dinner. ... Yes, I'm fine. ... I have not been crying! ... Fine, okay, yes, I was." His voice wobbles a bit at the end of the sentence and he swipes a hand over his eyes.

"He was my twin, Mom. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I swallow. However I was feeling, it was a hundred times worse for my family. I reach out as Luke continues talking to Mom, and put my hand on his shoulder.

Luke pauses again, glancing around the room before finishing his sentence.

"Luke?" I try again. "I'm okay. I'm here for you."

Luke looks up and smiles sadly. "I know, Mom. He's still with us."

I take my hand off his shoulder and step back, shocked.

Over the next week, I slowly piece together the ends and outs of my nonexistent afterlife. Luke cannot see or hear me on a regular basis. Only when he needs me does he ever hear anything. I eventually decide that he can't hear the words, only feel the sentiment.

And so, I go with Luke wherever he goes. I am with him when he meets a woman, and I nudge him in her direction. I am with him when he proposes, calming his nerves. Same on his wedding day, and when each of his three children are born.

I comfort him when our mother dies, happy and contented. When Death comes to take her, Luke is fully unaware of the conversation that happens in the room.

Death looks surprised to see me. "I expected you to be gone by now."

I roll my eyes. "I don't know where you thought I would go. You couldn't take me, remember? I had to figure it out myself."

My mother steps out of the shadows, her eyes fixed on Death. "You're here for me, I assume?"

"Mom?" My voice cracks.

She turns and her eyes widen at the sight of me. She dashes forward and hugs me tightly. "What are you doing here? I hoped to see you, I just didn't think it would be so soon!"

I gently pull myself out of the embrace, tears forming in my eyes. "I can't go with you. I've been here all this time, watching over Luke and you, because I can't go on."

My mother looks shocked. "But why?"

I shrug. "I wasn't supposed to die that day. There's no place for me."

My mother is crying. "You know we always loved you, right? We tried to make you happy."

Death clears his throat. "Touching, but we really ought to get going."

"No!" Mom shouts. "Why? Why can't he come too?"

Death sighed. "He wasn't supposed to die that day, he told the truth. There must have been something he left unfinished."

I shake my head. "I don't know what it is, Mom. I've tried. I'll be okay. I'll look after Luke and his family. Maybe I'll see you again someday."

Death takes her, glancing over his shoulder at me with a nod. I return it, waving at my mother as she disappears.

The years pass. Eventually, I start helping Luke's children, whispering in their ears when they fight, filling them with remorse. Calling out for them to be careful crossing the street, narrowly avoiding a car. Guiding them away from the meaner kids, and leading them to their new nest friends.

When my twin brother dies, the scene with Death repeats itself. This time it's harder to let go.

Death and I explain the problem to Luke, but he doesn't accept it, shouting at us. Even when I promise to look out for his kids, all he can do is scream, tears rolling down his cheeks.

I walk away first, sobbing.

Many years later, Luke's daughter gives birth to twins. I immediately fall in love with them. Over the years, I help them over and over again, as I had been doing for ages.

Then came the fateful day. Death appeared out of nowhere as I was watching the 17 year old twins at a school dance.

Death sits down next to me. "Well, your time is just about done."

"What?!" My jaw drops. "Really? You're going to take me this time? Why?"

Death sighs. "You'll see."

I scan the crowd, looking for the twins. I find Kaleb easily, but not Kylie.

A few seconds later, a scream erupts from the back of the room. The crowd parts for teachers rushing through, revealing Kylie, lying on the floor.

Death stands.

"No!" I shout, grabbing at him. "I'll stay! You can't take her!"

Death pulls free of my grasping hands. "It's already too late." He points a long, pale finger, and I see Kylie's spirit in the corner, looking around confused.

I run up to her, followed closely by Death.

"Am I...dead?" She asks, unsure.

"Please," I whisper, standing in front of her. "Don't take her."

"Wait, I know you!" Kylie exclaims. "Grandpa Luke's brother! But you've been dead for like eighty years!"

Death shakes his head at me. "I'm not taking her. I'm taking you. She will stay."

Kylie looks even more confused now. "But...I'm dead, aren't I? How can I stay?

I draw in a breath. "Kylie, I've spent my time helping my family. They, I guess you, could sometimes hear me, like a little voice in their heads. You can probably do the same."

Death reaches for my hand.

I scramble back. "No, wait! Kylie, I thought this would be forever. I wasn't supposed to die young. Neither were you! Maybe that's why this is happening. You have to live first, do something worthwhile before you can pass on."

Death succeeds in grabbing my hand this time and starts to pull me away.

"You'll be okay, Kylie!" I shout back to her. "We'll be waiting for you!"

Death and I leave Kylie behind, looking bewildered.

We step through a dark veil, and when we emerge on the other side I see the most wonderful sight I'd ever seen.

My family.

Death looks at you, baffled. “You’re not supposed to be dead.” You raise a brow. “I’m not?” “Nope,” Death says. “Huh… that’s never happened before.” Confused, you ask, “Do I get to go to an afterlife now?” Death shrugs. “You can’t, because you’re not officially dead.”