INCANDESCENCE: Spirit, Hope,The light within, Invisible light

Prologue 

HAPPINESS IS PAIN

From the moment we are born, we learn to mask pain. Cooed and coddled by our mothers, who place band-aids and kisses over our scratches. Being brave like our fathers, who appear to never cry. Medicated by our doctors, when the mask breaks under the intense pressure of pretending. Our surroundings teach us the only acceptable place for pain is in the deep dark corners of our minds. Abandoned, suppressed and out of reach where it can't be a burden to our loved ones.

When we are troubled, we use the pain, or rather the years of suppressing it, as an excuse for doing bad things. Preferentially, to instill sympathy into an audience who have the power to promote us into a better life. It's a key to open doors, a lug wrench to change a tire, a pen to write our thoughts with, pain is a tool; we use it but never do we simply, feel it.

Instead, it's the good times which truly plague us. It's the song on the radio which used to be your favorite, but you can't bear to hear it anymore. The restaurant with the best food you've ever tasted, but you won't step inside again. It's your warmest, comfiest sweater which hides in the back of your closet, while you shiver in a sub-par replacement. Why? Because happiness is to blame. Your broken femur wouldn't have existed if it weren't for your love of climbing trees. You could still wear your favorite sweater if only you could wash out the memories.

The memory of the painful incident on impact is stored away, in some dusty old file cabinet, in a locked room you lost the key to. The only accessible fragment is happiness. Short moments before the tragedy, passive-aggressively polluting our minds with its gentleness while reminding us of our naivety. Haunting us like the friendly ghost you can't bring yourself to hate. We were never trained to resist the seductive charms of happiness, so we accept it with open arms, knowing it brings us to a fatal end.

1.

NEGATIVES

Noun: a photographic image made on film or specially prepared glass that shows the light and shade or color values reversed from the original, and from which positive prints can be made.

I had a good life- one I didn't expect to live to see. For years, I wished to join my parents in heaven, although my grandmother tried her very best to keep me out of it. The ostracism from my peers, who fearfully believed being orphaned was contagious, was almost too much to bear. I became a living example of people's worst fears, therefore, I was easy to ignore. A shadow in a world I no longer belonged to.

Things began to change when I decided to get lost in worlds created by imagination. Living in different generations, universes and classes made me feel alive again. My once-promising academic career made like a slingshot and propelled me higher than before. Like a miracle, I made it, 23 years old, alive and well, the creator of a successful business, living in my own home and in an exclusive relationship for the past 6 years.

I had a good life... or, so I thought.

Like any other day, the morning of October 22nd started with me groggily shutting off my alarm clock. My eyes focusing on the wooden rectangle which displayed 7 am in blue neon. I made my way downstairs, turning my kettle on with my eyes half-opened.

I knew every inch of my loft like the back of my hand. It was cozy and contemporary, the open concept and large ceiling-to-floor windows overlooking the southern New England city made the small space appear larger. My things were neat and simple, a sofa, TV, bookcase and coffee table in the living room, a small table off the kitchen and stools behind the kitchen's peninsula island. Upstairs held my bedroom and en-suite.

Everything had a place, and everything was always in its perspective place. Down to the minute, I knew what I planned to do every day. For nourishment, I ate 1300 calories or fewer: 400 for breakfast, 350 for lunch, 350 for dinner and 200 for snacks.

I exercised in my building's gym, thirty minutes of cardio three times a week, and 30 minutes of strength training twice a week. I was in bed by 11 o'clock every night, getting a perfect 8 hours of sleep before my alarm rang. It was a strict schedule, but it gave me a sense of sanity.

Halfway through my morning routine my phone rang, I dropped my facial cleansing brush and picked it up, knowing exactly who it was.

Hey, I said sleepily. Instead of a voice, I was answered with a loud noise sounding like an air horn.

Hey baby, Leo's voice sounded unusually adenoidal and half dead.

What was that? I asked, slightly panicked, knowing the answer wouldn't be one I would favor.

I'm blowing my nose... baby, I'm sick, he wheezed.

No, you're not allowed to be sick today, I said matter-of-factly.

What do you mean? His voice cracked, and he coughed, I can't control it.

What I mean is, we are opening our brand-new office today, you have a shit ton of interviews to do and I have to manage the building and my own projects, I can't do it all! My palms began to sweat thinking about it.

Kat can help you, he told me simply, we've given her a set of keys, she knows what to do. I could tell he was already annoyed.

Kat is not you, plus, she doesn't like me, I complained.

Fine Jerrie, I'll come to work, most likely infect our potential employees, so we won't be able to hire anyone. Meaning we won't be able to handle all our new accounts, thus putting us out of business. Is this what you want? He ranted, his nose suddenly sounding clearer.

He was undeniably annoyed.

While my anxious reaction was no surprise to him, he couldn't understand it. Years of being a loner had left my social skills at less than favorable. I wasn't much of a social butterfly, to begin with. My brain functioned like Dial-up Internet once a person was in front of me. All I could hear was a horrible screeching sound as I tried to process, one, what they were saying, and two, why they were saying it to me.

I felt pity for those who attempted to get to know me. The remedial task of finding my personality was entangled with layers and layers of security measures. If you somehow navigated passed the palisade, the restricted area behind it was filled with land mines called secrets.

As far as butterflies went, Leo was a Blue Morpho. Bright, colorful and striking all at once, you couldn't help but be attracted to him. Captivating and sociable, he made you feel like the most important person in his world, whether you met him a moment ago or last year. He would be equally alluring without his sculpted by the Romans features. I always knew he would never fully understand people like me; I was but a common moth.

OK, stay home big baby, I chuckled, deciding arguing wouldn't solve anything.

I would have to suck it up. My opportunity to show him and myself I was a capable businesswoman had finally presented itself.

Thanks, Jer, he sighed weakly, you'll be fine, I promise.

Of course, I've survived worse, I resolved, I'll be over later to bring you soup... and behead you.

OK baby I'll see you... wait, WHAT? he tried to shout, making him cough uncontrollably.

Love you, bye, I giggled and hung up the phone.

The story of Leo and I, more than anything, is unorthodox, but we had come far. When we met, he was already in his Junior year of University, I was technically still meant to be in high school. He asked me out within days of our first meeting, but I was reluctant. I had no interest in rich, party-loving frat boys.

Naturally, I rejected him, reciting those exact words. He took the news with a smile, promising to prove his worth to me. Over the ensuing months, he pulled out every romantic stop and organized every grand gesture he could think of- I never took the bait.

His resilience astounded me, regardless of the fact I rejected him in public, he had no sense of embarrassment or disappointment, nor did his persistence falter. As if his very essence was made of a love potion, I began to fall for him, like every other person who had the chance to meet him.

He waited, patiently and attentively, putting in the effort no one else was willing to do, and reluctantly, I opened myself to him. Perfect opposites became perfect partners; one picking up where the other lacked. I often wondered what my life would be like if we hadn't met.

Finishing my morning routine, I slipped on what I called my power dress. A white, V-neck pencil dress, matched with a pair of red suede booties and a black and white blazer. I always believed having the right look enhanced any feeling you wanted to portray, and I needed confidence. Center-parting my hair, I went over it with a flat iron making sure it was pin straight. I lined my eyes with eyeliner and applied a healthy coat of mascara making my hazel brown eyes pop and moisturized my lips with lip balm.

Although I was a nervous wreck, I often appeared to be cold. My voice and face never giving away the immense pressure building up- as long as I was in a professional setting. I knew how to pull myself together or at least pretend I already had. Due to my arctic emotions, conjoined with inadequate social skills, my employees feared me as if I were Miranda Priestly. Whispering cruel jokes about me among themselves and avoiding me at all costs. Though sometimes I was guilty of playing into their beliefs.

One o'clock struck and it was time for me to get back to work interviewing the ambitious hopefuls. I had done well thus far, sticking to the script I'd written for myself in the morning. Still, my batteries were running low and lunch couldn't recharge me.

All the candidates were qualified and skilled, but no one had the unique innovative spirit we needed at the time. I didn't know exactly what Leo looked for in employees, but I was looking for someone different. An idealist, an explorer of minds, able to see a fire where there was a spark, and an explosion where there was a fire. So far, I'd only seen common grammar Nazis with expert knowledge of world literature. It was boring.

I picked up my office phone and pressed one, it rang once before it was picked up.

Yes, Miss Howard? Kat's dull voice answered. She had been surprisingly helpful and pleasant, under Leo's persuasion undoubtedly.

How many are left, I asked with a sigh.

Just one, she said nonchalantly, Should I send him up?

Yes, please and thank you, I said relieved.

Give me a ring if you need anything else, Kat ended, hanging up the phone soon after.

Only one more left, I repeated in my head. I was out of my forte, but I'd made it through. I certainly had no job envy for Leo. I was the happiest alone in my office, connecting with people the best way I knew how- with imagination.

I didn't mind being the brain of the company, I did background work because it was my true talent. I was a wind beneath wings. I could not have cared less about my title so long as we were successful. However, I knew, despite how good I was at my job, the business wouldn't have been anywhere if Leo didn't bring in customers.

A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts.

Come in, I said a little too anxiously, my nerves kicking in for the umpteenth time.

The head of a young man poked through, I have an interview with Leonardo Cordell, his light British accent rang.

Mr. Cordell isn't in the office today, I'm the Editor in Chief, Jerrie Howard, nice to meet you. extending my hand, so he could introduce himself.

Charlie Burh, he stated, stepping into the office to shake my hand.

His hand much bigger than mine, made me feel more nervous. I pulled my hand away, hoping he couldn't feel the sweat forming. He was tall, he would have been a half foot taller than me if weren't in my heels. His dark brown hair was thick but cropped short. He had, what I often romanticized as, cold weather skin, pale and slightly blushed pink, it looks as though a strong wind just brushed his face. He wore a very tailored Navy-blue suit, Burberry, if I wasn't mistaken.

Let me pull up your application, and we'll get started.

I sat back down in my chair trying to sound confident. I heard the office door close, as I pulled up his resume my peripheral sight noticed he had a printed copy in his hand. Feeling uneasy, I began to read off his credentials.

Charlton Liam Burh, 23 years old, from Reading, Berkshire, England, recently graduated from the University of Cambridge, with flying colors I might add, and received an undergraduate degree in English. Your former job was in a Library, I read whilst he nodded in my peripheral vision.

Tell me about yourself, what brings you stateside? I asked curiously. The first unscripted question I'd asked all day.

Well, I've always sort of had a knack for writing. I haven't been able to find my personal style or genre, he stated, With one single idea, I can write anything! I like to think my passion for it is much like the ocean, vast, unexplored and colorful. I wish for nothing more than to help people explore a new world in their imaginations, even if it means my name isn't on it. I like the euphoria of being a part of something bigger than myself, you know?

My face brightened as he continued to speak. It was as though he shared my thoughts. The energy he expelled as he spoke of his love of writing felt familiar, rich and smooth. The same feeling as eating red velvet cake. Absolutely captivating.

As to what brought me here, he continued, um, I'd have to say adventure. You know, new sights, new people a fresh start to maybe give me a jolt of inspiration! When I found your company online, I thought it was brilliant, a company helping writers and idealists dreams come true! It's exactly what I need, he beamed.

I smiled back and nodded pretending to write down notes, I had no idea what to say! I was impressed, to say the least. The more he talked the more captivated I became, the way he spoke and emphasized certain words was pure poetry. He was a storyteller through and through, and it was everything I needed to know. A talent I'd always dreamed of having, but my poetry only resonated well on paper.

My mind was beginning to draw a blank, it had already made up its mind... but I knew Leo would never forgive me if I didn't ask more.

Do you have any questions you'd like to ask about the position? I came up with.

I'd like to know about you? he asked suddenly.

Excuse me? I questioned, shocked.

Tell me about yourself, I'd like to know about my potential employer, he leaned back in his chair whilst simultaneously crossing his legs and interlocking his fingers.

Aren't I supposed to be asking the questions, I replied nervously, more like a statement.

Says who, he smirked.

Says the person who might want to sign your checks, I said more confidently.

Well, well, well, you're a sassy one, who would've thought! He exclaimed, making the edges of my lips curl up involuntarily. All jokes aside, unless you have any more inquiries for me, I honestly would like to ask you some questions, play along, yeah?"

I threw my hands up in surrender, giving him the OK to go ahead. Maybe it wasn't the most professional decision, but I had asked for something less boring; this was certainly it.

SO, he clapped his hands together loudly, startling me a bit, is Jerrie short for something or...

No, it's merely Jerrie, Jerrie Marie Howard, I stated in such a way it became an interview.

And how old are you Miss Howard, he said picking up a pen and the printed resume he brought from my desk.

23, I answered as he scribbled something on the paper. I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or simply having fun. Either way, I found it amusing.

23, fairly young to have a business this well-developed, how did you start it? He looked up from his piece of paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.

Well, I graduated from high school at 16 and went straight into university as an English Literature major. During my freshman year, I was roommates with a girl named Raakel, whose cousin was the campus hotshot, always flashing around in sports cars and throwing wild parties.

Let me guess, your future business partner, Mr. Cordell, Charlie interrupted.

Indeed. One day, he came to our dorm complaining to his cousin about his parents cutting him off until he could raise his grades. Long story short, I helped him edit his essays and studied with him and his grades started to improve. Leo began to tell other students how I helped him, and they came to me, willing to pay for the same results. At first, it was all schoolwork, then students with ideas for stories and others with hidden passions or guys trying to impress girls with poetry came to us as well, thus, Lion Publishing was formed, I ended my story.

Well did his parents ever reinstate his funds, Charlie asked, utterly interested.

Once they realized how well he was doing on his own, they did. They actually invested, which helped propel this into a legitimate business.