It was difficult for Poire to return to class the next morning. ‘Act like nothing is wrong,’ they said, ‘we still do not have enough evidence to close the investigation. You must stay put until then,’ they said.

But how can I stay put in front of my sister’s supposed stalker? she wondered as she stepped into her classroom, greeted by Ivan and his typical smile, the one that used to make her knees weak; the one that now evoked an urge to puke that tugged at her gut. And what of my father? she thought, why had he been so uneasy at the prospect of contacting the police beforehand?

“Is he also hiding things from me?”

“What a lovely question.” The lemur cackled. “Perhaps it was about time for you to ask yourself such a thing.”

“You’re terrible!” Poire snapped as she marched away from the ocean, where the two fish were still swimming, like lost souls trying to find their way.

“Where are you going?” the lemur asked as he quickly ran after her figure.

“I don’t know,” Poire said, “but I have to go somewhere. I cannot stay here. I cannot grow stale any longer. Look at all this rain, I will drown if I remain beneath it, mister lemur.”

The lemur hopped onto her shoulder once more. “Ah,” he said, “but little do you realise you have already drowned, my dear. And it is only now that you begin to swim.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Poire said as she pushed away a branch, then two, from slapping her face. “Whatever, mister lemur. Keep talking nonsense, I’m going to find out about what’s keeping me here.”

The lemur sneered, “please do,” he said in a voice a little too eerie for Poire’s liking.

After a couple of hours, their walk was still without end, that is; until Poire paused. “Don’t you think it strange?” she asked the lemur.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Whatever are you talking about?” he replied with a tilt of his head.

“I haven’t stopped for miles, and despite this, I am not even tired yet.”

“Sometimes, it isn’t about how fast you run or go, that will tire you,” the lemur said. “But hurry on now, girl. The sun has risen, and your ride is waiting.”

“My… my ride?”

“Yes,” he said as he pointed up to a nearby hill, “you will find it over there.”

Figuring she had nothing left to lose; Poire followed his instructions. As she hiked upwards in fields of dirt and dried grass, her limbs got dirty, and by the time she had arrived at her destination – Poire was all but clean.

“This… is supposed to be my ride?” she asked the lemur, bewildered, as a giant beetle whose dark wings shone under the daylight; casually basked in the glory of the few rays he could catch from such a cloudy morning.

The lemur tilted his head. “Is there something wrong with it?” he asked.

“I…” Poire took a step back, “N-no but… it’s not dangerous, is it?” she muttered, “I mean, look at the size of its pincers, it could chop my head off in one go.”

“Nonsense!” The lemur laughed and waved away her thought. “You don’t have head, silly, there is nothing to fear.”

“Right…” Poire mumbled as she approached the giant, “right…”

To her surprise, as she tried to mount him, the beetle did not budge. It seemed content to have two strangers riding on its back. Was he used to this abuse? she wondered, is that why he did not question our arrival?

“Aren’t we heavy?” Poire asked as she observed the lemur, who slid down her shoulder, and went to hang around one of the beetle’s pincers. “Won’t we hurt him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the lemur said as they gently rose into the air, “just know that this is his job, his duty, and that he has given us permission to partake in this fragment of his life.”

Poire wasn’t convinced. Yet, they were already god knows how many feet above the ground now, and it seemed a little too late for her to simply change her mind and jump off. As she watched clouds and black birds pass her by, Poire could merely hope they were not damaging its body by sitting on it, for even if the beetle was many the size of his ancestors – he still remained an insect. And no matter how much he pushed himself to be something he else — he remained fragile no matter the context.

Bits of the beetle’s exoskeleton began to peel as he sped up. His wings buzzed like a million bees. Poire yelped as they disintegrated into specks now lost to the sky before her eyes. She tried to grab them with her fists, keeping a futile hope in her heart that perhaps they could be stitched back onto the beetle afterwards — but the torn bits of the insect escaped from her fingers and nothing more could be done. Will I always be this powerless? She bit her lip. Am I doomed to watch, and follow, without ever doing?