The Name of the Game is Denial

This is it, she thinks, this is the end. They sit together and wallow in their abandonment while shadows begin to creep across the bland white outstretch of sky that lay before their eyes. Two people who should’ve never found one another, the strangest couple of all. She is cool and composed, hiding her inner anxiety well from the man whom she truly loves, the man that understand her.1

She was once the best there was, you got her in a hand and you had just won the game, but ever since the war had begun she had been forgotten, she no longer held a grand title full of importance. 2

He was cold and forbidding but the look in his eyes when he glances over at her says what’s truly in his heart, her liking for him is all wrong for they come from separate worlds. “I should go, they…they’re waiting.” He shrugs; his tone normal with a hint of disappointment, another evening of conversation comes to an end, as always. She nods, “So should I, they’ll be angry with me if I’m not back soon.”3

After a hug that makes her heart speed up in a cheesy love story type way they walk their separate ways, one goes North and the other South, both of them preparing for the thoughtful trek home.4

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Everything had been abandoned, once popular and high-classed the cities were in great shape but now they lay crumbled and ruined, old and musty with curiously disturbing odors. She enters the kingdom cautiously around the same time he walks into his own city which is miles away. She climbs the stairs of a black and white majestic castle, one of the only structures still solidly standing.6

A humble little three of clubs walks up to her, too embarrassed to look up and meet her curious gaze. He hands her a small yellow slip before scurrying away. With a glance she sighs, requests from the queen were once joyful things, a chance to see a lovely old friend but now, since the war began these requests were tedious and somewhat dreadful. She begins to think about seeing the queen. She would be escorted in properly and would be placed on a golden stool in front of a couple dozen of cards; all will be dressed primly in respectable black suits and ties to match their names. Grasping the golden handle she takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, entering humbly.7

She was wearing a graceful, sweeping red gown which was hemmed with black lace with a single black and white heart embroidered on the chest. The queen’s face changed in that single moment, a broad smile spread across it as she spoke excitedly, “Everyone, look, the Ace of Spades has arrived.” 8

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Dolefully he climbs the rustic brown spiral staircase leading to the main room. He thinks of her, and how she was actually a generally prominent figure in the Card’s kingdom while he was just a soldier boy, a dog of the military. His commanding general waited impatiently on the other side of the solid white door that he was now facing. Instead of opening the door he stares out the small, crumbling window.10

5 mocking birds sit on the roof of building A. One flies away. 4 mocking birds. 3, 2, 1, he continues to watch until the last, lonely mocking bird has flies from it’s carefully crafted nest. Only then does he grasp the door’s white knob, twists it, and thrusts the door open. “Nice of you to finally join us comrade, coming on time is usually a good thing to do around here.” The general grunts, running a calloused hand through his abnormally sleek hair. The general, a tall man with a salt and pepper mustache, began to speak as he took a seat next to one of his fellow soldiers.11

Their general began a proud, pompous tone, “The Cards are becoming too...extravagant. I’ve been talking to our higher ups and we agree that this war must end, we must end to rule that the Cards have over this place.” His eyes went wide but he quickly painted a blank expression onto his face, knowing he could never share any of this information with Ace. Instead he opts to handle this more peacefully, to tear the war down from the inside out; after all, it was his own people who had started it in the first place.12

He raises a brown-clad hand, “Sir, we are not alone in this war. Or have you forgotten? The Salad is in this too it’s three sided and if we take down the Cards then we’ll have no allies to help us get rid of the Salad.” The general raises an eyebrow suspiciously, “Then what do you propose we do?” He bites his lip, not knowing the question’s answer.13

“Speak with the queen.” He spoke with confidence even though deep within his stomach anxiety and fear bubbled obnoxiously. The general, who was the only man not dressed in brown, guffaws, “Speak with the queen?! The Queen of Hearts! What a proposition! She shot us down months ago, said we were on our own! I believe you though comrade, eventually both of us will fall under the mighty fist of the Salad, for they have the Chips on their side. Despite all of this orders are orders; we execute our new ambush tonight, with no mercy comrades. We are the Frappenese, and we are survivors!”14

He frowns deeply while the other soldiers stood up around him and cheered, pumping their fists into the air exuberantly. It was then that he found himself thinking of her, he tried to think of solutions, ways he could get out of this ambush but nothing came to mind. This is it, he thinks, this is the end. 15

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“Ace, darling I’ve sent for you because of one vital reason. The Frappenese plan to invade, we don’t know when or how big of an army they’ve created but an attack has been planned.” Her friend’s face was serious, well, as serious as the queen could try and be. “What does this have to do with me?”17

The council turns their eyes towards her, watching her every move. She did the same, recognizing each and every one of them. The Kings of Diamonds, Clubs, Spades, and Hearts sat formally in their seats, two with red ties and two with black. Accompanying them were the Jacks, Queens, Sevens and Tens. The other three Aces, her beloved siblings, had been sadly killed during this brutal war. She stood uncomfortably in her black suit; the white tie fitted loosely around her neck was dotted with the spade symbol which matched the ridiculously high heels she wore.18

“That is an excellent question.” The queen smiles with a hint of giddiness in her voice. The queen of Hearts dramatically points to Ace and stifles a giggle, after all, she finds many things to be funny, “You will organize our attack against them, we’re going to hit them with all we’ve got.”19

“Is that wise?” Ace’s tone was skeptical, although she loved her friend and leader she also feared that some things just shouldn’t be messed with. “They are kind of well, allied with the Salad and the Salad’s allied with the Chips, the three of them can easily take out whole kingdom down.” Ace shruggs, thinking of him as she spoke. “Coffee-worshipping bastards.” The queen mutters crossly, crossing her arms across her chest. A smile broke across Ace’s face, “Be nice.” She teases, the rest of the council not understanding the joke between the two old friends.20

“That’s no fun.” The queen pouts jokingly before bursting into a fit of giggles. Ace let out a few laughs of her own, not wanting to seem uptight even though her stomach was filled with intoxicatingly beautiful butterflies. The anxiety boiled within her for deep within her heart she knew it would come. The final battle was on its way.21

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The lights begin to dim; in his brown uniform he marches alongside his fellow soldiers. He hadn’t chosen this path, it was a path chosen for him from the very beginning, a path that he had never wanted to take. He knew a battle had already started, they all knew. Around them the white-washed sky turns into a hazy orange-red color as bombs go off all around them, light and dark green clad soldiers mixed with men in orange and yellow jumpsuits storm the ground, their guns point out directly in front of them, aimed to kill as if they’d shoot the first person who comes into their line of sight whether they’re the enemy or not. 23

The world around him becomes fatally distant; it fades out of his mind and becomes more like a dream than actual reality. His comrades become swirls of green, orange, and brown. The sky becomes a misty haze that blends in with everything until all that’s left is a bunch of colors. 24

The shapes around him evaporate as he marches, marches straight into the line of fire, straight to his death.25

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“I have no feelings for him. Not one single feeling, we are friends and that’s all we’ll ever be. Friends, friends…” She paces back and forth beneath a deep crimson sky, standing on luscious green grass that’s been stained with blood over and over again. She denied it all, her secret love for him, his forbidden glances in her direction, everything.27

Everything was wrong. The war, their love, the state of abandonment that they all had to miserably share, everything. She watched from a safe distance in her snazzy black suit as the battle died down, the sound of bombs crashing into the innocent earth was fading as was the noise of gunfire in the distance. The queen was hidden, locked safely away behind closed doors as her kingdom regained its reign once again. Even with the Salad and Chips on their side the Frappenese were still being dominated over by the Cards. She didn’t understand how or why, she only knew that the other side was losing. Badly. 28

She stopps pacing and freezes in place just like the rest of the world. Immediately she senes that something is wrong, out of place. The air becomes cold, the shadows stop moving and the sound of battle dies completely, not a single thing could be heard. No guns, no explosions, no birds singing their sad little death songs. It all...stopped. Then she hears one single cry, the cry of a man and the instant she hears it time begins again. Guns fire, widows wail, soldiers shout commands in scared, frantic voices. But that single cry, she knows, is different. It is a cry that pierces her heavy heart sharply, as if someone drove a knife into the center of her chest, splitting it right in two.29

The cry belongs to him, the one man whom she felt so strongly about that she was willing to lie to herself about said feelings. They say there are seven stages of grief, but she ignors all but one. Denial. Denial fills her mind as she pushes her way past aggravated men and terrified women. It is denial that she feels in the deepest crevices of her broken heart as she punches out the Salad’s general, who had gotten in her way. Denial coursed through her veins when she saw it, saw him.30

She bends down beside him; shivering when feeling the frozen blood-soaked grass pressing against her knees. “Ace.” His weak smile brings tears to her eyes, seeing his face pale and blood seeping through the breast pocket of his uniform. “No, no, don’t say it like that.” She shakes her head, her fingers dramatically intertwined with his. “Like what?” He asks in a charming tone while smirking, ignoring the throbbing pain caused by the shrapnel logged within him. He puts on a brave face just for her, and wears his fake, foolish bravery proudly. 31

“Like this is the last time you’ll ever say my name.”32

She whispers, masking her fear she refuses to let any tears come pouring from her eyes. This hits him unusually hard, harder than a ton of bricks and definitely more painful than when the bullet had hit him. He knows that his body’s getting weaker, that there are people all around them yet no one will come and help. He’ll just be another casualty, forgotten like all the rest.33

“Ace, there I said it again.” He croaks hoarsely, smiling at the look of annoyance in her watery eyes which she rolls when she hears his response. “They can fix you; patch you up good as new.” She smiles, he loves her smile and seeing it one last time is all he needs to die a happy man. “No, it’s my time. No one escapes it.” He shakes his head faintly, grasping her hand as tightly as he can, as if he loosened his grip then she’d slip away. “You can’t leave, this can’t be the end.”34

“This isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning.” He smiles, grateful and amazed that she hasn’t been injured of shot yet seeing as she was kneeled down in a war zone. His vision was suddenly obscured as she bent her head down; her lips met his for a single moment and for the both of them it felt as if time had stopped again. Their first kiss would be their only kiss. She pulls away and stares into his glazed over eyes. “I love you.” He whispers, using the last of his energy he takes one last slow breath, his chest rises heavily then quickly falls, never to rise again.35

Only then was it that she shed a tear, one single tear which landed on him, staining his uniform. Just one small, wet drop over his heart. She didn’t utter a sound, not a wail or cry. She simply held his lifeless hand and fought off the denial that was slowly creeping into her aching heart. “I love you too.” She whispers, finally admitting out loud her feelings for him.36

A trumpet blew in the distance and it was then that she notices the guns had stopped firing, the widows had stopped wailing, the bombs no longer exploded and the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. Someone had one, someone had lost. The war may not have ended, but the battle certainly did. Slowly and dolefully she lies down beside him and stares up into the sky above her.37

“It’s over. The end has finally come.” She whispers, but suddenly a phrase enters her mind, it spreads throughout her body, tickling her skin and mending her torn apart heart. This isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning. 38

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In the late hours of the night a man thrusts his key into the lock hole and turns, he thrusts the door open and throws his briefcase onto the hard wood floor. He loosens his tie and kicks of his shoes, exhausted after a long day at work. His hand fumbles for the light switch on the wall, he reaches it and his thumb skillfully flips the switch, lighting the once dark apartment.40

The man looks up curiously, his eyes widen in awe at the sight he sees. He’d played poker the night before with some friends and the poker table was set up just outside the kitchen, as usual. The Bowl of salad he’d left on the table from the night before had been knocked to the ground, lettuce was splayed across the floor, the clear plastic bowl was turned over on a spilled bag of Doritos and the Doritos had also been spilled and were mixed in with rotting pieces of lettuce and tomato.41

The playing cards which he had shuffled into as neat little stack earlier in the morning were now torn and splayed across the table mercilessly and were covered in knocked over coffee.42

Empty Starbucks frappuccino cups littered the floor near the poker table’s legs, oozing chilled brown coffee all over. The bewildered man let out a heavy sigh and muttered, “Eh, I’ll clean this up tomorrow.” And with that last statement he flipped off the lights, collapsed onto the couch, and closed his weary eyes. As his he drifted to sleep a single, familiar phrase penetrated his mind. This isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning.43

Bewildered, he flips over onto his back and rearranges the pillows comfortably, squinting his eyes in the darkness he asks skeptically to no one in particular, “The beginning of what?”44