Part 3
The room was pitch black. I lay curled up in the foetal position, on a bed that smelt like clean cotton. My eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness however many hours ago.
I still couldn't remember my life. But I knew I wasn't dreaming anymore. There was no way I could think that now. I did, however, remember every detail of my last moments.
Holding a warm little body close to me as I ran, fleeing down to the basement in desperation when the front door was too far away.
*Eve. She was called Eve. The little girl I was trying to save was called Eve, and she was my sister. Where before I could only guess at her relevance and importance to me – and mine to her – I now knew for certain that she was my baby sister. Her hair was a more washed out red, and had looser, wispier curls than mine, but we had the same dark violet eyes.*
Spying the cupboard I was too big to fit in, and shoving the struggling body in there; At that moment the most precious thing in my world. Kissing her forehead, telling her to stay as quiet as she could possibly be, that I'd be back for her before she knew it. Frantically searching the room for a weapon, something to weild in defence; the weights were too heavy, the old fashioned polaroid cameras too light. Making it to the top of the staircase, hoping to find something in the house I could use. He was on me before I could scream.
I started shaking again. It was so vivid. Alex had had to carry me out of that room. I'd collapsed, shortly after my death had returned to me. Persophone had been true to her word; I now knew I was dead, and how I came to be this way. I couldn't bring myself to be annoyed that she hadn't given me back my whole memory. She had, after all, been specific when she'd said she was going to show me my death. Not my life. My death.
I didn't know how long I'd lain here, wrapped around myself. This room had windows, I hazily recalled - Alex had placed me on this bed, then before I could ask he'd set about firmly pulling every curtain shut, until every ounce of light was banished.
Except his own inner light. He'd stayed with me all this time, letting me shake and sob. Sometimes he'd sit next to me on the bed and rub my back, making soothing sounds and promises that I'd feel better soon. He never asked me any questions, or got me to talk to him, for which I was thankful. I couldn't form a coherent sentence if I tried.
After however long, when the shakes had subsided, and the memory wasn't so fresh or vibrant in my mind, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. My mind had been wandering to other thoughts in between flashbacks, which was an improvement from just simply reliving it over and over again nonstop.
I could finally digest all the information I'd gathered. Like that angels existed. And that I had apparently joined their prestigious ranks.
My eyes had become adjusted to Alex's' and my light, which softly illuminated the dark room, like a lamp with a towel thrown over it. It took me a while to realise that there was no ceiling - what I'd thought was just a very detailed mural was actually thick clouds.
*I lay back, watching the clouds roll and twist, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. I was beyond the storm now. I had grieved for my death, for the loss of potential life, of relationships with loved ones. Now I was ready to move forward. My hands were resting on my stomach, as I lay contemplating this new turn of events. I could now think with an open mind, and see that really, I had it better off than most people who died did. If Persephone and Alex's conversation was anything to go by, I was an exception – More than just a spirit, a ghost. I was an Angel. Possibly an Archangel if I'd worked that out right. I'd been able to break Persephone's gaze.
It dawned on me where I'd heard of her before. She was the Goddess Persephone, from Greek mythology. The fair maiden who was tricked into living half the year ruling Underworld. No wonder Alex had asked to speak with her. I recalled her saying something along the lines of 'I of all people, deity or not, would know if she was just a spirit!'. Of course, since she ruled the Underworld, she'd be the one to contact if you had a query about a spirit.
“Alex, what was Persephone doing to me when she first arrived? You know, when I couldn't look away from her eyes?” I was overcome with a new curiosity. I wanted answers, I wanted to know what I was in for. I realized I was eager to find out more. Alex jumped, as my abrupt question broke the long-held silence.
He thought for a moment before answering. “She was drawing your essence into her. While away from the Underworld, she can act as a living gateway to that domain, and so if she'd succeeded in drawing you in, your soul would have traveled straight there.” He watched my face as he spoke, noting every micro expression.*
About Me
Monday, 15 June 2009
Sunday, 14 June 2009
Part 2
"Persephone, don't," I heard Alex snap from a distance. Why was he so far away? Where had he gone? My mind felt like trying to walk through syrup - everything was coming to me in dribs and drabs, taking its time before my brain could register it. Everything but my sight; All I could see was the hollow depths of her black eyes.
"Is that a warning I hear in your voice, Alexander?" I wanted to see him. To check he was still here, and wasn't just leaving me with this woman. He better not be. The was something cold about her, underneath all her outward loveliness. Persephone... Where had I heard that name before?
"No, your grace. I merely request you stop playing with her, as it is imperative that I speak with you in all seriousness. I have important news," He sounded slightly exasperated, as if she liked to make people address her extra politely just for the hell of it. I wanted to be able to pay proper attention to this news he was talking about, the way he bigged it up appealing to my natural nosiness. I didn't like that I couldn't see where he was either. Like an addict in need of a fix, it was suddenly vital that I see his face. "Thank you." He said when I broke free of her trance, and staggered back a few steps, reeling from what felt like my mind being thrown back into my head.
Persephone was eyeing me curiously, her eyes now just a smokey black. "Oh I didn't release her," She said absently, her focus still on me. Finally she turned to Alex, who had come over to steady my now swaying form. "I expect this is what you have come to talk to me about." She waved an elegant hand in my direction.
"Your grace it doesn't make sense. Aurora isn't showing the usual signs. Spirits like her shouldn't be able to effect their surroundings at all as they simply move through them. Yet when I got to her she was attempting to move objects, able to hold on to them. And then.." He trailed off, looking uncertain.
"Go on," She ordered. Her face was neutral, holding no expression.
"Well, then she managed to.. to stop a man from getting to a young girl. Not directly, but her energy called to the people looking for the girl, and they managed to stop him just in time. But Aurora made it happen. She called them there I know it."
"Interesting..." Persephone tapped her nose in thought. "A soul with some tricks up her sleeve."
"But that isn't even possible." Alex sputtered, having gotten himself worked up while describing the scene with the man. He didn't seem angry, just confused and frustrated at his own confusion. Something told me Alex wasn't often caught off guard. "Is it?" He prompted, when she didn't reply.
"Alexander I don't see what you're making such a fuss about, I would have thought you of all people would have known." She smiled kindly to soften her words. "Look at her, for goodness sake! She's glowing!"
"Yes, but-"
"Alexander. She's glowing, just like you." Just like him? But he was some preternaturally gorgeous glowing creature, and I was... me. And I couldn't even remember who I was - Alex had told me my full name, after that girl had called me Rori. "You just told me all the traits. She willed someone to take action, for something or someone to stop that man, and something happened. She could touch objects her hand should have passed through. You tell me what that means."
"Impossible."
"Nothings impossible, Alexander, you're a testament to that." She turned to me, "He's an Angel you know," She winked at me. I decided it was best not to comment on that. My brain already had so much to take in.
"But she's... she's... I've watched her, Persephone. I've watched over her since the day she was born. During her life she never showed signs of incredible goodness, didn't conduct acts of pure kindness," He glanced at me and shrugged, "No offence - you're only human."
"Ah, but here she is. How is that I wonder?" She tilted her head to the side, a smile playing on her lips. "Hmm? Maybe her life was cut off before such acts could be performed?" Her look turned sharp then, and Alex looked momentarily ashamed.
"Perhaps..." He grudgingly conceded.
"Alexander," Her eyes softened, "She is not merely a spirit. I am sure of that. She is too strong for that. She is strong even for your kind. I saw it, when I drew her mind into my own." Talk about devouring someone with your eyes. "I of all people, deity or not, should be able to recognise a simple spirit." She scoffed. Alex didn't reply, as he chewed over what she'd said. I'd given up trying to understand what they were talking about a while back.
"So, what does that make me?" I hesitantly asked, suddenly shy of speaking up in this room of echoes.
"Why, an angel of course!" She proclaimed cheerfully. "Oh Alexander how wonderful would it be if she turned out to be your partner?!" She clasped her hands the her chest in excitement.
"No, no I don't think that's possible-"
"Oh when did you get so pessimistic? Why ever not?" She seemed put out at his lack of enthusiasm in her idea.
"Well typically partners come from Pure Angels," He glanced at me, saw my confusion at the term and briefly explained, "One is considered a Pure Angel when they are born into this life, not through a promising human life cut short by death."
"Yes but anomalies have been known to occur." She challenged. Alex opened his mouth to retort, then seemed to think better of it and shut it again.
"I'm sorry but what do you mean by 'Partners'?" I made quote marks with my fingers. "You don't mean, like, married-partners, do you?"
Persephone let out a laugh that sounded like bells. "Oh dear child, no not at all. Think of it more as.. Business partners. Archangels have a fated partner, usually but not always," She cast a pointed look at Alex, "They find this partner in another Archangel. One of 'Pure' lineage. This partner will complete them, and as a team they would be at their absolute best when fighting the battle for good." She concluded with an eager nod. "Of course I am not on either side, good or evil. I am a goddess of neutral grounds... Like Switzerland." She seemed pleased with her own analogy of it.
"Whoa, okay, a lot of information there." I raked a hand through my hair again, a habit I had while aggravated or confused. "Seriously, the most complicated dream I have ever had."
She let out a surprised bark of laughter. Instead of incredulity, like Alex, she gave me a look bordering on pity.
"Not this again..." Alex sighed.
"My dear, can you remember anything about your life before this 'dream'?" She copied my gesture of quotation marks in the air.
"I remember getting ready this morning," I said, unsure if that's what she meant.
"Just as I thought. You must have had a traumatic death." She nodded to herself, as if confirming some lone-held suspicion.
"You have no idea." Alex muttered rudely. I glared at him for a second before returning my gaze to her.
"Like in human life, when one experiences something too traumatic to deal with, the mind often blanks it out, erases it. Evasion survival tactics." Her eyes were sympathetic as she explained. "So as you passed on into this life from your last, your death must have been so traumatic that the you that stands before me just blanked it out." She looked at me for a moment, then sat up straight on the edge of her recliner. It instantly morphed into a gold throne, the back reached a good two feet higher than her head. She reached out her arms to me, beckoning me over. "I'm so sorry I have to do this, Aurora."
"Do what?" I asked, anxiety pricking my spine as Alex gently eased me forward towards her. I took the hint, and walked the short distance til I was standing just before the platform. She reached her hands across, so that they hovered either side of my head.
"Show you your death," She said sorrowfully. She placed two fingers on both of my temples. My vision blacked out suddenly, and then I saw.
That's when I died a second time.
"Persephone, don't," I heard Alex snap from a distance. Why was he so far away? Where had he gone? My mind felt like trying to walk through syrup - everything was coming to me in dribs and drabs, taking its time before my brain could register it. Everything but my sight; All I could see was the hollow depths of her black eyes.
"Is that a warning I hear in your voice, Alexander?" I wanted to see him. To check he was still here, and wasn't just leaving me with this woman. He better not be. The was something cold about her, underneath all her outward loveliness. Persephone... Where had I heard that name before?
"No, your grace. I merely request you stop playing with her, as it is imperative that I speak with you in all seriousness. I have important news," He sounded slightly exasperated, as if she liked to make people address her extra politely just for the hell of it. I wanted to be able to pay proper attention to this news he was talking about, the way he bigged it up appealing to my natural nosiness. I didn't like that I couldn't see where he was either. Like an addict in need of a fix, it was suddenly vital that I see his face. "Thank you." He said when I broke free of her trance, and staggered back a few steps, reeling from what felt like my mind being thrown back into my head.
Persephone was eyeing me curiously, her eyes now just a smokey black. "Oh I didn't release her," She said absently, her focus still on me. Finally she turned to Alex, who had come over to steady my now swaying form. "I expect this is what you have come to talk to me about." She waved an elegant hand in my direction.
"Your grace it doesn't make sense. Aurora isn't showing the usual signs. Spirits like her shouldn't be able to effect their surroundings at all as they simply move through them. Yet when I got to her she was attempting to move objects, able to hold on to them. And then.." He trailed off, looking uncertain.
"Go on," She ordered. Her face was neutral, holding no expression.
"Well, then she managed to.. to stop a man from getting to a young girl. Not directly, but her energy called to the people looking for the girl, and they managed to stop him just in time. But Aurora made it happen. She called them there I know it."
"Interesting..." Persephone tapped her nose in thought. "A soul with some tricks up her sleeve."
"But that isn't even possible." Alex sputtered, having gotten himself worked up while describing the scene with the man. He didn't seem angry, just confused and frustrated at his own confusion. Something told me Alex wasn't often caught off guard. "Is it?" He prompted, when she didn't reply.
"Alexander I don't see what you're making such a fuss about, I would have thought you of all people would have known." She smiled kindly to soften her words. "Look at her, for goodness sake! She's glowing!"
"Yes, but-"
"Alexander. She's glowing, just like you." Just like him? But he was some preternaturally gorgeous glowing creature, and I was... me. And I couldn't even remember who I was - Alex had told me my full name, after that girl had called me Rori. "You just told me all the traits. She willed someone to take action, for something or someone to stop that man, and something happened. She could touch objects her hand should have passed through. You tell me what that means."
"Impossible."
"Nothings impossible, Alexander, you're a testament to that." She turned to me, "He's an Angel you know," She winked at me. I decided it was best not to comment on that. My brain already had so much to take in.
"But she's... she's... I've watched her, Persephone. I've watched over her since the day she was born. During her life she never showed signs of incredible goodness, didn't conduct acts of pure kindness," He glanced at me and shrugged, "No offence - you're only human."
"Ah, but here she is. How is that I wonder?" She tilted her head to the side, a smile playing on her lips. "Hmm? Maybe her life was cut off before such acts could be performed?" Her look turned sharp then, and Alex looked momentarily ashamed.
"Perhaps..." He grudgingly conceded.
"Alexander," Her eyes softened, "She is not merely a spirit. I am sure of that. She is too strong for that. She is strong even for your kind. I saw it, when I drew her mind into my own." Talk about devouring someone with your eyes. "I of all people, deity or not, should be able to recognise a simple spirit." She scoffed. Alex didn't reply, as he chewed over what she'd said. I'd given up trying to understand what they were talking about a while back.
"So, what does that make me?" I hesitantly asked, suddenly shy of speaking up in this room of echoes.
"Why, an angel of course!" She proclaimed cheerfully. "Oh Alexander how wonderful would it be if she turned out to be your partner?!" She clasped her hands the her chest in excitement.
"No, no I don't think that's possible-"
"Oh when did you get so pessimistic? Why ever not?" She seemed put out at his lack of enthusiasm in her idea.
"Well typically partners come from Pure Angels," He glanced at me, saw my confusion at the term and briefly explained, "One is considered a Pure Angel when they are born into this life, not through a promising human life cut short by death."
"Yes but anomalies have been known to occur." She challenged. Alex opened his mouth to retort, then seemed to think better of it and shut it again.
"I'm sorry but what do you mean by 'Partners'?" I made quote marks with my fingers. "You don't mean, like, married-partners, do you?"
Persephone let out a laugh that sounded like bells. "Oh dear child, no not at all. Think of it more as.. Business partners. Archangels have a fated partner, usually but not always," She cast a pointed look at Alex, "They find this partner in another Archangel. One of 'Pure' lineage. This partner will complete them, and as a team they would be at their absolute best when fighting the battle for good." She concluded with an eager nod. "Of course I am not on either side, good or evil. I am a goddess of neutral grounds... Like Switzerland." She seemed pleased with her own analogy of it.
"Whoa, okay, a lot of information there." I raked a hand through my hair again, a habit I had while aggravated or confused. "Seriously, the most complicated dream I have ever had."
She let out a surprised bark of laughter. Instead of incredulity, like Alex, she gave me a look bordering on pity.
"Not this again..." Alex sighed.
"My dear, can you remember anything about your life before this 'dream'?" She copied my gesture of quotation marks in the air.
"I remember getting ready this morning," I said, unsure if that's what she meant.
"Just as I thought. You must have had a traumatic death." She nodded to herself, as if confirming some lone-held suspicion.
"You have no idea." Alex muttered rudely. I glared at him for a second before returning my gaze to her.
"Like in human life, when one experiences something too traumatic to deal with, the mind often blanks it out, erases it. Evasion survival tactics." Her eyes were sympathetic as she explained. "So as you passed on into this life from your last, your death must have been so traumatic that the you that stands before me just blanked it out." She looked at me for a moment, then sat up straight on the edge of her recliner. It instantly morphed into a gold throne, the back reached a good two feet higher than her head. She reached out her arms to me, beckoning me over. "I'm so sorry I have to do this, Aurora."
"Do what?" I asked, anxiety pricking my spine as Alex gently eased me forward towards her. I took the hint, and walked the short distance til I was standing just before the platform. She reached her hands across, so that they hovered either side of my head.
"Show you your death," She said sorrowfully. She placed two fingers on both of my temples. My vision blacked out suddenly, and then I saw.
That's when I died a second time.
Saturday, 13 June 2009
CHAPTER TWO
For what felt like both an eternity and two seconds, all I could see was this blinding white light. Everything else melted away, and for one crystal clear moment, I was at peace, knowing my soul was travelling to where it was meant to be. The light wrapped around me, enveloping me in a warm embrace that sent tingles of happiness down my spine. This was where I was meant to be.
I blinked, and we were standing in a glorious, echoing hall. The walls were lined with giant marble pillars that soared up to the ceiling - that reached such heights it was partially hidden by light wispy clouds. I gawped at the magnificence of this chamber, like an over sized empty cathedral. Soft sunlight poured in through large glass windows that lined the walls, pooling in brilliantly lit puddles, highlighting the centre strip of floor.
Electricity ripped through my veins. It jolted me back, reminded me of what had just happened. Alex. He was still gripping my hand. I'd almost forgotten him, in the pure bliss of nothingness I'd experienced in the light. The electricity I felt when he touched me wasn't painful or uncomfortable. It actually felt extremely nice, warming me from the inside out, energizing me. It was only when Alex tilted my chin to look at him, that I could focus, as his second touch intensified the first. He was staring at me strangely, the look on his face similar to one that I might wear while trying to work out a particularly tough math problem. He didn't look as noticeably glowing as before, standing in this room. Probably because everything else had an other-worldly inner light too.
When our eyes met, and even though he had my full attention, he kept his gentle grasp on my chin. His eyes were huge and the purest blue I'd seen. I all at once knew what people meant, when they said you could drown in someones eyes. His were like twin aqua pools, that seemed so deep they could hold the universe in them. They seemed troubled, and a look of urgency passed over his face.
"Aurora, concentrate," He murmured. Our heads were close enough for me to hear his clearly, though I didn't understand why he'd lowered his voice. We were the only people in the room. I could have sworn I still heard a feint echo off his words. Just how high was that ceiling? "Do you have any idea what just happened?"
I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry. I cleared my throat, then tried again, "Um, not exactly." I kept my voice as hushed as his. "Where are we?" I waved my free arm, encompassing the enormous room in the gesture.
"Never mind that now. What did you do?" He dropped his hand from my chin to my shoulder. I didn't miss these intimate actions. Gestures people who knew each other very well and for a long time might use them. I recalled him saying very vaguely about feeling as if he knew me or something along those lines.
"What? I didn't bring us here, if that's what you think."
"No, I know you didn't - I did." He glanced around him. I sensed he was on edge, and anticipating something to happen. "I mean back in the basement."
"Oh. Well I don't know then." I shrugged.
Alex stopped flicking his gaze around the room and settled it back on me. In a flat voice he replied, "That's it. That's your explanation?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.
"Sorry! All I did was try to move some stuff and nothing would happen and the girl couldn't see me. Then that guy came, so I tried to stop him from getting the little girl. Then those two bigger guys stormed the place and sorted him out. Then she saw me and seemed to know who I was - I look exactly like that body, did you see that?" I shuddered. "Creepy. So then I was talking to her and she said I was glowing, and then all of a sudden she couldn't see me anymore, so I came over to you and now here we are." I concluded with a sigh.
"Here we are indeed," He breathed, looking as if he'd been slapped. He started to say something else, paused, then turned and stepped away. Unconsciously he kept a hold of my hand, preserving the contact.
"Weirdest dream I've ever had. And the longest." I muttered, running my free hand through my hair. At that, Alex whipped round, staring at me aghast. He shook the fist holding my hand vigorously.
"This isn't a dream!" He almost hissed. His voice had risen, and feint echos bounced from it. I just looked at him. Of course he would say that. He was part of the dream. "Oh my Gods', is that what you truly believe? No wonder you aren't reacting the way others do."
"Others? Whats that supposed to mean?"
"You're dead, Aurora. That was you body back there. Want to know why no one could see you and you couldn't move stuff? It's because you're a ghost!" A muscle in his cheek was ticking. He looked incredulous. Then he dropped his eyes and his beautiful face grew troubled again. "Or at least you're meant to be.."
"Meant to be... what?"
"A ghost!"
"Oh." I stared dumbfounded at him. He seemed utterly convinced about this, and was getting quite emotional for someone I'd made up in my sleep. I couldn't think of any more to say. A gust of wind blew past my ear, making me jump. Alex dropped my hand and spun me round by my shoulders to face the other way.
Out of nowhere a platform had appeared, hovering a foot above the ground. A woman lay back on a velvet recliner, a bowl of pomegranates at her feet. She was phenomally pretty, with creamy skin and rich chesnut hair tied and coiled up at the back, with the odd loose curl framing her regal face. I couldn't see her eyes as she appeared to be concentrating on wrapping a long curl, that hung from the back of her head over her shoulder, around her finger. She had an aqualine nose, and a full pouting mouth. She was draped in material that was faastened in place with gold rope, that looped under her bust and around her neck, and a gold and saphire broach at the shoulder.
"Alexander I do love your visits," She spoke softly, but the sound traveled well in this room. "I see you brought a friend this time." Her eyes suddenly flashed up to me, fastened on my face. They were dark and endless pits of nothing, like tunnels. I found myself being drawn into them, with a similar sensation to falling. "Hello my dear," I dimly heard her murmmur, "My name's Persephone."
I blinked, and we were standing in a glorious, echoing hall. The walls were lined with giant marble pillars that soared up to the ceiling - that reached such heights it was partially hidden by light wispy clouds. I gawped at the magnificence of this chamber, like an over sized empty cathedral. Soft sunlight poured in through large glass windows that lined the walls, pooling in brilliantly lit puddles, highlighting the centre strip of floor.
Electricity ripped through my veins. It jolted me back, reminded me of what had just happened. Alex. He was still gripping my hand. I'd almost forgotten him, in the pure bliss of nothingness I'd experienced in the light. The electricity I felt when he touched me wasn't painful or uncomfortable. It actually felt extremely nice, warming me from the inside out, energizing me. It was only when Alex tilted my chin to look at him, that I could focus, as his second touch intensified the first. He was staring at me strangely, the look on his face similar to one that I might wear while trying to work out a particularly tough math problem. He didn't look as noticeably glowing as before, standing in this room. Probably because everything else had an other-worldly inner light too.
When our eyes met, and even though he had my full attention, he kept his gentle grasp on my chin. His eyes were huge and the purest blue I'd seen. I all at once knew what people meant, when they said you could drown in someones eyes. His were like twin aqua pools, that seemed so deep they could hold the universe in them. They seemed troubled, and a look of urgency passed over his face.
"Aurora, concentrate," He murmured. Our heads were close enough for me to hear his clearly, though I didn't understand why he'd lowered his voice. We were the only people in the room. I could have sworn I still heard a feint echo off his words. Just how high was that ceiling? "Do you have any idea what just happened?"
I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry. I cleared my throat, then tried again, "Um, not exactly." I kept my voice as hushed as his. "Where are we?" I waved my free arm, encompassing the enormous room in the gesture.
"Never mind that now. What did you do?" He dropped his hand from my chin to my shoulder. I didn't miss these intimate actions. Gestures people who knew each other very well and for a long time might use them. I recalled him saying very vaguely about feeling as if he knew me or something along those lines.
"What? I didn't bring us here, if that's what you think."
"No, I know you didn't - I did." He glanced around him. I sensed he was on edge, and anticipating something to happen. "I mean back in the basement."
"Oh. Well I don't know then." I shrugged.
Alex stopped flicking his gaze around the room and settled it back on me. In a flat voice he replied, "That's it. That's your explanation?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.
"Sorry! All I did was try to move some stuff and nothing would happen and the girl couldn't see me. Then that guy came, so I tried to stop him from getting the little girl. Then those two bigger guys stormed the place and sorted him out. Then she saw me and seemed to know who I was - I look exactly like that body, did you see that?" I shuddered. "Creepy. So then I was talking to her and she said I was glowing, and then all of a sudden she couldn't see me anymore, so I came over to you and now here we are." I concluded with a sigh.
"Here we are indeed," He breathed, looking as if he'd been slapped. He started to say something else, paused, then turned and stepped away. Unconsciously he kept a hold of my hand, preserving the contact.
"Weirdest dream I've ever had. And the longest." I muttered, running my free hand through my hair. At that, Alex whipped round, staring at me aghast. He shook the fist holding my hand vigorously.
"This isn't a dream!" He almost hissed. His voice had risen, and feint echos bounced from it. I just looked at him. Of course he would say that. He was part of the dream. "Oh my Gods', is that what you truly believe? No wonder you aren't reacting the way others do."
"Others? Whats that supposed to mean?"
"You're dead, Aurora. That was you body back there. Want to know why no one could see you and you couldn't move stuff? It's because you're a ghost!" A muscle in his cheek was ticking. He looked incredulous. Then he dropped his eyes and his beautiful face grew troubled again. "Or at least you're meant to be.."
"Meant to be... what?"
"A ghost!"
"Oh." I stared dumbfounded at him. He seemed utterly convinced about this, and was getting quite emotional for someone I'd made up in my sleep. I couldn't think of any more to say. A gust of wind blew past my ear, making me jump. Alex dropped my hand and spun me round by my shoulders to face the other way.
Out of nowhere a platform had appeared, hovering a foot above the ground. A woman lay back on a velvet recliner, a bowl of pomegranates at her feet. She was phenomally pretty, with creamy skin and rich chesnut hair tied and coiled up at the back, with the odd loose curl framing her regal face. I couldn't see her eyes as she appeared to be concentrating on wrapping a long curl, that hung from the back of her head over her shoulder, around her finger. She had an aqualine nose, and a full pouting mouth. She was draped in material that was faastened in place with gold rope, that looped under her bust and around her neck, and a gold and saphire broach at the shoulder.
"Alexander I do love your visits," She spoke softly, but the sound traveled well in this room. "I see you brought a friend this time." Her eyes suddenly flashed up to me, fastened on my face. They were dark and endless pits of nothing, like tunnels. I found myself being drawn into them, with a similar sensation to falling. "Hello my dear," I dimly heard her murmmur, "My name's Persephone."
Friday, 12 June 2009
Part 5
I had to crook my neck back to properly see him, as he hadn't stepped away from where he'd spoken in my ear. He was tall, six foot 3 at the very least, and well built. He actually glowed, the softest hint of light emanating from him from head to toe. My eyes raked over him, absorbing every detail.
They took in the well-worn black leather boots that reached half way up his calf, scuffed a purplish grey the the toe and heels and deeply creased - evidence of being worn constantly. He was wearing trousers that reminded me of Jareth the Goblin Kings', in the film Labyrinth, except not as skin tight and.. revealing. Sloppily tucked into the waist band at the front was a loose, billowy white shirt, with the top buttons undone casually. The sleeves swelled out from just above his elbow, then cinched in at the cuffs on his wrists. His shirt also seemed to flutter slightly in a breeze, just like my dress.
He coughed into his fist, drawing my eyes up from where they'd been lingering a little too long on the slightly exposed chest the undone buttons showed. I blushed, but soon forgot myself when I met his eyes.
"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to startle you," He gave me a gorgeous lop-sided grin, his eyes full of amusement. He had one of the best British accents I'd heard. His voice was deep, and rich with a slightly husky edge to it. The type of voice that was both strong and soft at the same time, and would be perfect for reading aloud poetry or stories.
I quickly gathered my wits and managed to shut my gaping mouth. "Who are you?" I croaked. My voice in comparison to his, still sounded rusty and hoarse, as if I hadn't used it for years. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling extremely inadequate.
"My apologies, I should have introduced myself before. You see I feel I already know you so well, I forgot you have no idea who I am." He looked embarrassed at himself. He paused, looked at me intently for a moment, then decidedly stuck out his hand towards me. "Here, let me help you up."
I eyed his glowing hand for a fraction of a second, before eagerly grabbing it. Electricity zapped through me from my hand where we were touching, and I gasped aloud. He swiftly pulled me up then dropped my hand. I glared up at him accusingly, but saw the same confusion in his eyes - he'd felt it too. "Thanks," I muttered, rubbing my arm. "...So who are you?" I prompted. He was staring into my eyes again, as if searching for something. Recognition, perhaps, as he'd sounded confident he already knew me. Conveniently forgetting my dead body on the other side of the room, I felt suddenly annoyed and disappointed that this was a dream - that I didn't really know him.
"Oh! Of course. Please forgive me, right now my thoughts are all over the place.." A look of torment crossed his face briefly. "My name is Alexander of the Archangels, but please, call me Alex." He smiled warmly at me.
I blinked a few times, as my mind absorbed his introduction. Archangels. Did he mean that in the angelic sense? or was that just the name of his family? I blinked some more. This was one detailed dream. When he seemed to grasp that I was unable to form words, he carried on talking, "I already know your name, of course. Aurora Giancarlo. And interesting name, might I say. Your last name is Italian is it not? And yet you look more Irish than Italian, with your pale skin and red hair." The last sentence sounded as if he was saying it more to himself than to me, musing over my surname. I was a quarter Italian, I suddenly remembered, on my fathers side. I was also Irish from my mothers. How clever, for this man to pick up on that so quickly.
"How do you know all this?" I restrained myself from visibly cringing at my voice. When would it go back to normal? "Where did you even come from?" I couldn't get the right amount of alarm into my voice, that I should have. This stranger, Alex, knew a lot about me, yet the only thing I felt was.. comfort. For the first time since this dream started, I didn't feel anxious or in pain. I felt safe in his presence.
I felt something. I was instantly reminded of the little girl, and the pain I felt from her turmoil. I abruptly spun around, the anxiety and alarm that had dissapeared in the presence of Alex rushing to the forefront. I turned just as a man filled out the doorway at the top of the stairs.
He was short for a man, around five foot eight. He was solidly built, obviously worked out a lot. His black hair was slicked back with gel, and he had thick black eyebrows that dominated his guant face, and looked as if they were pulled down in a permanent scowl. Slimey, came to mind when I looked him over. Sleezy, greasy, creepy.
The hairs rose on the back of my neck, as goosebumps rose on my skin. I could feel all the blood drain from my face. I knew this man. Or had known him. And although I couldn't remember how or from where, my body obviosuly could, as it automatically tensed, adrenaline rushing through me. Gearing me up to flee. What had this man done to make me react this way? What couldn't I remember?
Without meaning to, my eyes slid to the battered body at the bottom of the stairs. No, he couldn't have.. could he? The little girl seemed to think he'd done something, though, also.
"No!" She screamed, her eyes nearly popping out of her head in fear. She kept her arms around my body, but changed her position; lifted on knee up, and shifted further back to the wall.
The man took a step forward, and sneered. "So you are here. I've been looking for you, girlie." His voice was high-tenor, and cold. "You had me worried you'd got out." He stepped forward again.
"Go away!" She cried, her voice piercing. I found I couldn't breathe, that panic was rising in my throat. My eyes kept flicking from the man and the girl. She started shaking when he started slowly down the stairs towards her, seeming to enjoy her obvious trauma, dragging the moment out longer. "Please leave us alone.." she sobbed hysterically.
"Us? Baby, that bitch is dead." He snapped, hatred seeping into every word. He stopped his descent a third of the way down. "Do you know how much trouble she caused me? Do you see this scratch?!" He pointed angrily at his left cheek, turning his head so she could see better, also giving me a better view. Four long scratches stretched from his cheekbone to his jaw, as if someone had clawed him. "The stupid whore thought she could save you. Well I showed her. She won't be trying to stop me again. You're all alone now, baby. You're all mine." He sneered.
"No," I murmured, my mouth bone dry in fear. He moved to carry on down the stairs, a new look of fierce anticipation on his face. "No!" I howled, in time with the girl.
Suddenly I was standing at the bottom of the stairs, between my body and the man. I stared at him, eagerly swaggering down the stairs, frozen in horror. Then with only the need to get him away from her, I raised my arms and screamed at him, willing him to stop, for something to stop him. The edges of my vision went fuzzy, as anger boiled up from within me, joining the fear and reinforcing my will with more conviction. "Don't touch her!"
I heard a crash from somewhere higher in the house, liek a door being slammed open. But I didn't take my eyes off of him. It was his reaction that got my attention. He abruptly stopped two thirds of the way down, as if he's slammed into a wall, and looked stunned for a second. Then he whipped round, and started yelling expletives at someone behind him. I glanced up, only to see two huge, extremely angry men pounding through the doorway and catch sight of him. They quickly took in the scene behind me, saw the little girl beside herself, sobbing in fear. Their faces turned puce, veins throbbing on the foreheads and necks.
"You sick bastard!" One with redish brown hair bellowed. I realised they weren't here to join in. They were here to stop him. And they looked more than capable, with bulging muscles, both standing at over six feet.
I quickly hurried to the girl, still buzzing furiously with adrenaline. She looked as if she were having a panic attack, her chest heaving withthe effort to get air into her lungs, as she sobbed uncontrollably. I placed my hands on either side of her face, and looked straight into her eyes. "It's alright now, my darling. You're going to be okay. Breathe, my love, try and calm down." My heart strained against the fist gripping it, more painful than ever. Tears filled my eyes, but I didn't look away from hers. She was looking at me again. I could see the look of comprehension dawn on her face.
"Ror-ri?" She choked out, still trying to control her breathing.
"Yes my darling, it's me. I'm here. Please calm down. Everything's going to be fine now, I promise." I stroked her face, shocked I could actually feel her soft baby's skin, damp with tears.
"You're glowing," She said, accusation clear in her voice. I glanced down at myself and saw I'd aquired that same shimmering light Alex had, except it was more vibrant and strong. I laughed at the absurdity of it.
"I-I'm so scared-d, Ror-ri, P-Paul was ab-b-bout to get me," She heaved out, "Wh-why aren't you h-here?"
"I am here, I never left you." I said, all laughter dying in my throat, confused by her question. She could see me. She saw me earlier. What did she mean? "I'll never let him get you." So he was called Paul.
She merely nodded, her chest slowing down. I was aware of the two men dragging Paul back up the stairs away from her, and of a fight starting. I managed to pull her into a tight hug, momentarily feeling her little body's warmth, smelling her sweet baby smell. She was so young - too young for this.
"Aurora," Alex said softly from behind me.
"One second," I called over my shoulder. I pulled back from our embrace, and held her at arms length. My buzz was dying down, my sense of touch fading. I looked her over, checking for injuries. She seemed unharmed, just badly shaken.
"Where are you going?" She asked, slightly frantic.
"Just over there to talk to someone. Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't leave you."
"You're fading," She whispered. "I can b-barely see you Rori."
"Aurora," Alex said again. All of a sudden I knew she couldn't see me anymore. I saw it on her face, where before her eyes had focussed on mine. Now they lost focus, sweeping all over the room, trying to find me. I hadn't moved an inch. "Please, come here." I heard a note of urgency in his voice, so with a sigh I straightened up, and walked back over to him, my eyes still on the girl. She really was tiny.
"What's up?" I said, watching as the redish-brown haired man came back and scooped the girl into his arms. She buried her head into his neck, fresh tears and sobs erupting from her. I could hear him comforting her, shushing her sobs as he rubbed her back and closed his eyes in relief. He then turn to my body on the floor, and his face turned a deep red again. This time tears spilled over, and a look of pure pain crossed his face. I felt a familiar clench in my chest upon seeing his distress. What were these two people to me? That obviously cared enough about me to be moved to tears by my dead body. Why couldn't I remember them?
When Alex didn't speak imediately, I tore my eyes away from them, and met his troubled eyes. He was staring at me intently again. "Alex?" My voice was barely above a whisper.
"Things just got a lot more complicated." He said, and grabbed my hand. Light poured down around us, and suddenly everything was gone.
I had to crook my neck back to properly see him, as he hadn't stepped away from where he'd spoken in my ear. He was tall, six foot 3 at the very least, and well built. He actually glowed, the softest hint of light emanating from him from head to toe. My eyes raked over him, absorbing every detail.
They took in the well-worn black leather boots that reached half way up his calf, scuffed a purplish grey the the toe and heels and deeply creased - evidence of being worn constantly. He was wearing trousers that reminded me of Jareth the Goblin Kings', in the film Labyrinth, except not as skin tight and.. revealing. Sloppily tucked into the waist band at the front was a loose, billowy white shirt, with the top buttons undone casually. The sleeves swelled out from just above his elbow, then cinched in at the cuffs on his wrists. His shirt also seemed to flutter slightly in a breeze, just like my dress.
He coughed into his fist, drawing my eyes up from where they'd been lingering a little too long on the slightly exposed chest the undone buttons showed. I blushed, but soon forgot myself when I met his eyes.
"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to startle you," He gave me a gorgeous lop-sided grin, his eyes full of amusement. He had one of the best British accents I'd heard. His voice was deep, and rich with a slightly husky edge to it. The type of voice that was both strong and soft at the same time, and would be perfect for reading aloud poetry or stories.
I quickly gathered my wits and managed to shut my gaping mouth. "Who are you?" I croaked. My voice in comparison to his, still sounded rusty and hoarse, as if I hadn't used it for years. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling extremely inadequate.
"My apologies, I should have introduced myself before. You see I feel I already know you so well, I forgot you have no idea who I am." He looked embarrassed at himself. He paused, looked at me intently for a moment, then decidedly stuck out his hand towards me. "Here, let me help you up."
I eyed his glowing hand for a fraction of a second, before eagerly grabbing it. Electricity zapped through me from my hand where we were touching, and I gasped aloud. He swiftly pulled me up then dropped my hand. I glared up at him accusingly, but saw the same confusion in his eyes - he'd felt it too. "Thanks," I muttered, rubbing my arm. "...So who are you?" I prompted. He was staring into my eyes again, as if searching for something. Recognition, perhaps, as he'd sounded confident he already knew me. Conveniently forgetting my dead body on the other side of the room, I felt suddenly annoyed and disappointed that this was a dream - that I didn't really know him.
"Oh! Of course. Please forgive me, right now my thoughts are all over the place.." A look of torment crossed his face briefly. "My name is Alexander of the Archangels, but please, call me Alex." He smiled warmly at me.
I blinked a few times, as my mind absorbed his introduction. Archangels. Did he mean that in the angelic sense? or was that just the name of his family? I blinked some more. This was one detailed dream. When he seemed to grasp that I was unable to form words, he carried on talking, "I already know your name, of course. Aurora Giancarlo. And interesting name, might I say. Your last name is Italian is it not? And yet you look more Irish than Italian, with your pale skin and red hair." The last sentence sounded as if he was saying it more to himself than to me, musing over my surname. I was a quarter Italian, I suddenly remembered, on my fathers side. I was also Irish from my mothers. How clever, for this man to pick up on that so quickly.
"How do you know all this?" I restrained myself from visibly cringing at my voice. When would it go back to normal? "Where did you even come from?" I couldn't get the right amount of alarm into my voice, that I should have. This stranger, Alex, knew a lot about me, yet the only thing I felt was.. comfort. For the first time since this dream started, I didn't feel anxious or in pain. I felt safe in his presence.
I felt something. I was instantly reminded of the little girl, and the pain I felt from her turmoil. I abruptly spun around, the anxiety and alarm that had dissapeared in the presence of Alex rushing to the forefront. I turned just as a man filled out the doorway at the top of the stairs.
He was short for a man, around five foot eight. He was solidly built, obviously worked out a lot. His black hair was slicked back with gel, and he had thick black eyebrows that dominated his guant face, and looked as if they were pulled down in a permanent scowl. Slimey, came to mind when I looked him over. Sleezy, greasy, creepy.
The hairs rose on the back of my neck, as goosebumps rose on my skin. I could feel all the blood drain from my face. I knew this man. Or had known him. And although I couldn't remember how or from where, my body obviosuly could, as it automatically tensed, adrenaline rushing through me. Gearing me up to flee. What had this man done to make me react this way? What couldn't I remember?
Without meaning to, my eyes slid to the battered body at the bottom of the stairs. No, he couldn't have.. could he? The little girl seemed to think he'd done something, though, also.
"No!" She screamed, her eyes nearly popping out of her head in fear. She kept her arms around my body, but changed her position; lifted on knee up, and shifted further back to the wall.
The man took a step forward, and sneered. "So you are here. I've been looking for you, girlie." His voice was high-tenor, and cold. "You had me worried you'd got out." He stepped forward again.
"Go away!" She cried, her voice piercing. I found I couldn't breathe, that panic was rising in my throat. My eyes kept flicking from the man and the girl. She started shaking when he started slowly down the stairs towards her, seeming to enjoy her obvious trauma, dragging the moment out longer. "Please leave us alone.." she sobbed hysterically.
"Us? Baby, that bitch is dead." He snapped, hatred seeping into every word. He stopped his descent a third of the way down. "Do you know how much trouble she caused me? Do you see this scratch?!" He pointed angrily at his left cheek, turning his head so she could see better, also giving me a better view. Four long scratches stretched from his cheekbone to his jaw, as if someone had clawed him. "The stupid whore thought she could save you. Well I showed her. She won't be trying to stop me again. You're all alone now, baby. You're all mine." He sneered.
"No," I murmured, my mouth bone dry in fear. He moved to carry on down the stairs, a new look of fierce anticipation on his face. "No!" I howled, in time with the girl.
Suddenly I was standing at the bottom of the stairs, between my body and the man. I stared at him, eagerly swaggering down the stairs, frozen in horror. Then with only the need to get him away from her, I raised my arms and screamed at him, willing him to stop, for something to stop him. The edges of my vision went fuzzy, as anger boiled up from within me, joining the fear and reinforcing my will with more conviction. "Don't touch her!"
I heard a crash from somewhere higher in the house, liek a door being slammed open. But I didn't take my eyes off of him. It was his reaction that got my attention. He abruptly stopped two thirds of the way down, as if he's slammed into a wall, and looked stunned for a second. Then he whipped round, and started yelling expletives at someone behind him. I glanced up, only to see two huge, extremely angry men pounding through the doorway and catch sight of him. They quickly took in the scene behind me, saw the little girl beside herself, sobbing in fear. Their faces turned puce, veins throbbing on the foreheads and necks.
"You sick bastard!" One with redish brown hair bellowed. I realised they weren't here to join in. They were here to stop him. And they looked more than capable, with bulging muscles, both standing at over six feet.
I quickly hurried to the girl, still buzzing furiously with adrenaline. She looked as if she were having a panic attack, her chest heaving withthe effort to get air into her lungs, as she sobbed uncontrollably. I placed my hands on either side of her face, and looked straight into her eyes. "It's alright now, my darling. You're going to be okay. Breathe, my love, try and calm down." My heart strained against the fist gripping it, more painful than ever. Tears filled my eyes, but I didn't look away from hers. She was looking at me again. I could see the look of comprehension dawn on her face.
"Ror-ri?" She choked out, still trying to control her breathing.
"Yes my darling, it's me. I'm here. Please calm down. Everything's going to be fine now, I promise." I stroked her face, shocked I could actually feel her soft baby's skin, damp with tears.
"You're glowing," She said, accusation clear in her voice. I glanced down at myself and saw I'd aquired that same shimmering light Alex had, except it was more vibrant and strong. I laughed at the absurdity of it.
"I-I'm so scared-d, Ror-ri, P-Paul was ab-b-bout to get me," She heaved out, "Wh-why aren't you h-here?"
"I am here, I never left you." I said, all laughter dying in my throat, confused by her question. She could see me. She saw me earlier. What did she mean? "I'll never let him get you." So he was called Paul.
She merely nodded, her chest slowing down. I was aware of the two men dragging Paul back up the stairs away from her, and of a fight starting. I managed to pull her into a tight hug, momentarily feeling her little body's warmth, smelling her sweet baby smell. She was so young - too young for this.
"Aurora," Alex said softly from behind me.
"One second," I called over my shoulder. I pulled back from our embrace, and held her at arms length. My buzz was dying down, my sense of touch fading. I looked her over, checking for injuries. She seemed unharmed, just badly shaken.
"Where are you going?" She asked, slightly frantic.
"Just over there to talk to someone. Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't leave you."
"You're fading," She whispered. "I can b-barely see you Rori."
"Aurora," Alex said again. All of a sudden I knew she couldn't see me anymore. I saw it on her face, where before her eyes had focussed on mine. Now they lost focus, sweeping all over the room, trying to find me. I hadn't moved an inch. "Please, come here." I heard a note of urgency in his voice, so with a sigh I straightened up, and walked back over to him, my eyes still on the girl. She really was tiny.
"What's up?" I said, watching as the redish-brown haired man came back and scooped the girl into his arms. She buried her head into his neck, fresh tears and sobs erupting from her. I could hear him comforting her, shushing her sobs as he rubbed her back and closed his eyes in relief. He then turn to my body on the floor, and his face turned a deep red again. This time tears spilled over, and a look of pure pain crossed his face. I felt a familiar clench in my chest upon seeing his distress. What were these two people to me? That obviously cared enough about me to be moved to tears by my dead body. Why couldn't I remember them?
When Alex didn't speak imediately, I tore my eyes away from them, and met his troubled eyes. He was staring at me intently again. "Alex?" My voice was barely above a whisper.
"Things just got a lot more complicated." He said, and grabbed my hand. Light poured down around us, and suddenly everything was gone.
Part 4
For a second, she looked straight at me. I held my breath, waiting for her to realise that the person she cradled was a complete replica of myself. To twig that I was both lying in her arms, and crouching beside her.
But her watery eyes quickly swept over the rest of the room, overlooking me as if I didn't exist before she turned back and her shoulders started to shake. I rocked back onto my heels, my breath coming out in a sigh, holding my hand to my chest as if she'd burnt it. I'd definitely done something then, to trigger that response.
I watched as she hid her face in the chaos of my hair. It was such a shock of fiery red hair, compared to my deathly pale pallor and white dress. It was the only colour on me except for the blood. It made the girls own strawberry locks look blond in comparison. With morbid curiosity, I shifted over to the left, to get a better look of my face. My eyes were still open. I stared into the dull depths, as lifeless as the rest of my body, half expecting them to blink or close. After a moment I shook my head to dispel the slightly creepy image of the dead body suddenly springing up, alert.
I quickly straightened up and took a few steps back. My legs started pacing of their own accord, as I went over what happened in my head. She'd definitely felt something where I'd touched her. What was stranger was I could have sworn she saw me, but then she'd acted as if no one else was there, as if I was no more a part of this basement than the boxes or floor. Maybe if I tried again, putting even more force into it..
I stopped pacing and turn towards her. She'd stopped crying now, stroking the back of her hand across my cheek with tears still on her own. I pulled back my shoulders, preparing myself for round two of trying-to-effect-my-surroundings-and-move-something, feeling as if I should be cracking my knuckles and loosening up. She shivered, and I realised it must be freezing down here, with the cement floor and brick walls. She was dressed in pink shorts and a white vest and jelly shoes. Dressed for a nice day out at the beach. She looked so vulnerable, bent over my body with a look on her face beyond her years; a look of deep mourning. I hesitated, then decided to practice on the cameras again. I didn't want to end up hurting her.
It took me more effort than I'd thought necessary to turn my back to her, and walk 6 steps to the other side of the room. For some reason, even though I knew she was still there - I could hear her sniffling - it irked me not to have her in my sight. I stood before the photography equipment, and focused on the digital camera on the side again. Taking a deep breath, I gripped the camera with both hands, and after spreading my feet for a better stance, tugged with all my might. Nothing happened. Again.
Letting out a frustrated squeak, I put even more force into it. I had my feet pressed right up to the counter, leaning away from it at a sharp forty degree angle. The only thing stopping me from falling backwards was the camera, which stubbornly refused to budge even an inch, and which I, just as stubbornly, refused to let go of.
"You won't be able to move it," A husky voice said very close to my ear. I shrieked in surprise, abruptly letting go of the camera and landing flat on my back, my hair billowing over my face. I scrambled up so I was leaning back on my arms, and shoved my hair back irritably. My irritation quickly evaporated when I got a look at the person belonging to the voice. My mouth dropped open in awe.
For a second, she looked straight at me. I held my breath, waiting for her to realise that the person she cradled was a complete replica of myself. To twig that I was both lying in her arms, and crouching beside her.
But her watery eyes quickly swept over the rest of the room, overlooking me as if I didn't exist before she turned back and her shoulders started to shake. I rocked back onto my heels, my breath coming out in a sigh, holding my hand to my chest as if she'd burnt it. I'd definitely done something then, to trigger that response.
I watched as she hid her face in the chaos of my hair. It was such a shock of fiery red hair, compared to my deathly pale pallor and white dress. It was the only colour on me except for the blood. It made the girls own strawberry locks look blond in comparison. With morbid curiosity, I shifted over to the left, to get a better look of my face. My eyes were still open. I stared into the dull depths, as lifeless as the rest of my body, half expecting them to blink or close. After a moment I shook my head to dispel the slightly creepy image of the dead body suddenly springing up, alert.
I quickly straightened up and took a few steps back. My legs started pacing of their own accord, as I went over what happened in my head. She'd definitely felt something where I'd touched her. What was stranger was I could have sworn she saw me, but then she'd acted as if no one else was there, as if I was no more a part of this basement than the boxes or floor. Maybe if I tried again, putting even more force into it..
I stopped pacing and turn towards her. She'd stopped crying now, stroking the back of her hand across my cheek with tears still on her own. I pulled back my shoulders, preparing myself for round two of trying-to-effect-my-surroundings-and-move-something, feeling as if I should be cracking my knuckles and loosening up. She shivered, and I realised it must be freezing down here, with the cement floor and brick walls. She was dressed in pink shorts and a white vest and jelly shoes. Dressed for a nice day out at the beach. She looked so vulnerable, bent over my body with a look on her face beyond her years; a look of deep mourning. I hesitated, then decided to practice on the cameras again. I didn't want to end up hurting her.
It took me more effort than I'd thought necessary to turn my back to her, and walk 6 steps to the other side of the room. For some reason, even though I knew she was still there - I could hear her sniffling - it irked me not to have her in my sight. I stood before the photography equipment, and focused on the digital camera on the side again. Taking a deep breath, I gripped the camera with both hands, and after spreading my feet for a better stance, tugged with all my might. Nothing happened. Again.
Letting out a frustrated squeak, I put even more force into it. I had my feet pressed right up to the counter, leaning away from it at a sharp forty degree angle. The only thing stopping me from falling backwards was the camera, which stubbornly refused to budge even an inch, and which I, just as stubbornly, refused to let go of.
"You won't be able to move it," A husky voice said very close to my ear. I shrieked in surprise, abruptly letting go of the camera and landing flat on my back, my hair billowing over my face. I scrambled up so I was leaning back on my arms, and shoved my hair back irritably. My irritation quickly evaporated when I got a look at the person belonging to the voice. My mouth dropped open in awe.
Thursday, 11 June 2009
Part 3
A sudden cry from behind me shocked me out of my verging on hysterical state. Pain ripped through my chest, the first real feeling I'd had since the no-feeling began. It felt as if someone had punched through my chest and was gripping my heart. This wasn't right. You're not meant to feel pain in dreams.
“Rori?” A little girl called out nervously. Something squeezed my heart tighter. I whirled round, having assumed I was alone in the room – not exactly being able to call my dead body company. The door to the cupboard under the stairs creaked open hesitantly.
A tiny girl, who could not be more than five years old, hesitantly peeked out from the cupboard she'd evidently been hiding in. She had milky white skin, with dark eyes that stood out in contrast and strawberry blond curls wisping around her face and shoulders.
A deep ache from within me yearned to reach out and smooth away the creases on the her forehead. I watched with wide eyes, still reeling from the shock of being caught unaware, as she crept out, and caught sight of something. My eyes flickered to where she was now staring, frozen into place in horror. I automatically grimaced as I was met with the sight of my mangled body at the bottom of the stairs.
“Rori!” Her shriek caused the fist around my heart to clench, tears to spring to my eyes. I took a step forward unconsciously, one arm wrapped around my chest, holding myself together. The girl threw herself across the room and on the floor by my body, pausing only to take in all the obvious injuries, then cradled my lifeless head. “Wake up Rori,” She pleaded, shaking one of my shoulders gently. “Please wake up.”
I stepped closer still, crouching down near her, “She's not alive,” My voice sounded rusty from disuse. “I'm so sorry, I-”
“Rori, wake up!” She interrupted. Every word brought more pain, more anguish. I could now see that the instinct telling me I was needed, was for this little girl. I couldn't leave her like this. “Rori please... Wake up... Please Rori...” She was choking back sobs, mumbling into the chaotic red curls spilling over on to her lap from my head.
“Sweetheart,” I tried again, my heart breaking for her – quite literally if the fist locked around it was anything to go by. I reached out hesitantly and placed my hand on her back, to try and guide her away from the.. corpse. I gave a shudder at the word. Like with the camera and paper, I couldn't seem to move her. This was getting old, this lack of effect I had on my surroundings.
Frustration tingeing my desire to move her away from all the blood and gore, I applied more force than before. “Please, come with me..” I grunted from the effort I was putting in to simply move her. All of a sudden she paused mid-sob, and froze. I automatically froze too, before whipping my hand away. She twisted her head and glanced behind her, lifting one hand and reaching behind her to briefly tough her back where my hand had been. My eyes widened.
A sudden cry from behind me shocked me out of my verging on hysterical state. Pain ripped through my chest, the first real feeling I'd had since the no-feeling began. It felt as if someone had punched through my chest and was gripping my heart. This wasn't right. You're not meant to feel pain in dreams.
“Rori?” A little girl called out nervously. Something squeezed my heart tighter. I whirled round, having assumed I was alone in the room – not exactly being able to call my dead body company. The door to the cupboard under the stairs creaked open hesitantly.
A tiny girl, who could not be more than five years old, hesitantly peeked out from the cupboard she'd evidently been hiding in. She had milky white skin, with dark eyes that stood out in contrast and strawberry blond curls wisping around her face and shoulders.
A deep ache from within me yearned to reach out and smooth away the creases on the her forehead. I watched with wide eyes, still reeling from the shock of being caught unaware, as she crept out, and caught sight of something. My eyes flickered to where she was now staring, frozen into place in horror. I automatically grimaced as I was met with the sight of my mangled body at the bottom of the stairs.
“Rori!” Her shriek caused the fist around my heart to clench, tears to spring to my eyes. I took a step forward unconsciously, one arm wrapped around my chest, holding myself together. The girl threw herself across the room and on the floor by my body, pausing only to take in all the obvious injuries, then cradled my lifeless head. “Wake up Rori,” She pleaded, shaking one of my shoulders gently. “Please wake up.”
I stepped closer still, crouching down near her, “She's not alive,” My voice sounded rusty from disuse. “I'm so sorry, I-”
“Rori, wake up!” She interrupted. Every word brought more pain, more anguish. I could now see that the instinct telling me I was needed, was for this little girl. I couldn't leave her like this. “Rori please... Wake up... Please Rori...” She was choking back sobs, mumbling into the chaotic red curls spilling over on to her lap from my head.
“Sweetheart,” I tried again, my heart breaking for her – quite literally if the fist locked around it was anything to go by. I reached out hesitantly and placed my hand on her back, to try and guide her away from the.. corpse. I gave a shudder at the word. Like with the camera and paper, I couldn't seem to move her. This was getting old, this lack of effect I had on my surroundings.
Frustration tingeing my desire to move her away from all the blood and gore, I applied more force than before. “Please, come with me..” I grunted from the effort I was putting in to simply move her. All of a sudden she paused mid-sob, and froze. I automatically froze too, before whipping my hand away. She twisted her head and glanced behind her, lifting one hand and reaching behind her to briefly tough her back where my hand had been. My eyes widened.
Part 2
I decided to distract myself by concentrating on figuring out where I was. I had no immediate memory of anything, apart from getting ready this morning in what I assumed was my bedroom. Everything after that was blank. Often dreams didn't make sense, just like this.
Studying my surroundings, I saw I was in some sort of basement - this explained the lack of windows or air. The walls were bare brick, apart from one side which looked as if someone had started to plaster it then given up. The other three were stacked with old moving-in boxes, a washing and drying machine, and some bookcases.
There was a treadmill and some weights near the washing machine, looking like the only objects in the room that were well-used but weren't covered in a layer of dust. On top of an old cardboard box sat a collection of Polaroid cameras and lenses. They looked well taken care of, like their owner had just momentarily placed them there. Like their owner might be coming back for them soon. The narrow staircase that ran along the half-plastered wall had no door at the top of it, and a small cupboard under it.
I ventured over to the cameras, backed up to the wall opposite the scene at the bottom of the stairs. Resolutely keeping my eyes on the equipment, and not glancing towards the eye-catching pools of red growing gradually larger, I turned my back on the body. I could sense menace radiating from every corner of this room. It looked like any other basement, but there was something.. I couldn't put my finger on it. Something was wrong with this room, though – besides the dead body that looked like my identical twin. My instincts were warring with each other: Part of me screamed to get out, get away from this room, while the other told me I needed to stay.
While they battled, I decided to preoccupy my mind with the cameras. Whoever left them out wouldn't mind if I took a peak at some of their pictures, otherwise they would have hidden them away out of sight. I could see through a hole in the box they were laying on that there were tons of developed pictures stacked inside. A digital camera lay alongside the box, separate from the older, more technical equipment. It looked as if it had been used recently, taken from the pile on top of the box of photos then quickly placed beside them before they left. I reached forward, my curiosity pushing me on. When my hands enclosed around the rough plastic case, I couldn't feel the texture. I couldn't really feel it at all, except that it was solid. Moving to pick it up, I found it wouldn't move. Tugging again, with more strength this time, it didn't even budge. I gave up, glaring at the black box, perplexed as to why I couldn't left it. This was a dream though, I reminded myself. Maybe I wasn't meant to see the pictures yet.
There was some paper shoved down behind the cardboard box, catching my eye as it looked freshly printed out, and not faded like the rest of the junk down here. Again, I gripped the edge with my hand, thinking just to swiftly tug it out. Again, nothing happened.
The non-feeling that had suffused me felt almost claustrophobic to me now. Like being rolled up in cotton wool, in body and mind. I felt trapped, the two instincts suddenly spiking, becoming more urgent as they fought each other. I desperately wanted to feel the textures, the smooth plastic of the camera, the friction of the rubber grip, to feel something besides this nothing that had blanketed me.
I decided to distract myself by concentrating on figuring out where I was. I had no immediate memory of anything, apart from getting ready this morning in what I assumed was my bedroom. Everything after that was blank. Often dreams didn't make sense, just like this.
Studying my surroundings, I saw I was in some sort of basement - this explained the lack of windows or air. The walls were bare brick, apart from one side which looked as if someone had started to plaster it then given up. The other three were stacked with old moving-in boxes, a washing and drying machine, and some bookcases.
There was a treadmill and some weights near the washing machine, looking like the only objects in the room that were well-used but weren't covered in a layer of dust. On top of an old cardboard box sat a collection of Polaroid cameras and lenses. They looked well taken care of, like their owner had just momentarily placed them there. Like their owner might be coming back for them soon. The narrow staircase that ran along the half-plastered wall had no door at the top of it, and a small cupboard under it.
I ventured over to the cameras, backed up to the wall opposite the scene at the bottom of the stairs. Resolutely keeping my eyes on the equipment, and not glancing towards the eye-catching pools of red growing gradually larger, I turned my back on the body. I could sense menace radiating from every corner of this room. It looked like any other basement, but there was something.. I couldn't put my finger on it. Something was wrong with this room, though – besides the dead body that looked like my identical twin. My instincts were warring with each other: Part of me screamed to get out, get away from this room, while the other told me I needed to stay.
While they battled, I decided to preoccupy my mind with the cameras. Whoever left them out wouldn't mind if I took a peak at some of their pictures, otherwise they would have hidden them away out of sight. I could see through a hole in the box they were laying on that there were tons of developed pictures stacked inside. A digital camera lay alongside the box, separate from the older, more technical equipment. It looked as if it had been used recently, taken from the pile on top of the box of photos then quickly placed beside them before they left. I reached forward, my curiosity pushing me on. When my hands enclosed around the rough plastic case, I couldn't feel the texture. I couldn't really feel it at all, except that it was solid. Moving to pick it up, I found it wouldn't move. Tugging again, with more strength this time, it didn't even budge. I gave up, glaring at the black box, perplexed as to why I couldn't left it. This was a dream though, I reminded myself. Maybe I wasn't meant to see the pictures yet.
There was some paper shoved down behind the cardboard box, catching my eye as it looked freshly printed out, and not faded like the rest of the junk down here. Again, I gripped the edge with my hand, thinking just to swiftly tug it out. Again, nothing happened.
The non-feeling that had suffused me felt almost claustrophobic to me now. Like being rolled up in cotton wool, in body and mind. I felt trapped, the two instincts suddenly spiking, becoming more urgent as they fought each other. I desperately wanted to feel the textures, the smooth plastic of the camera, the friction of the rubber grip, to feel something besides this nothing that had blanketed me.
CHAPTER ONE
Part 1
It was a different sensation to feeling numb. Standing there, looking down at my body. The pain was gone, all feeling was gone. I felt a shudder of horror ripple down my spine. My stomach twisted in knots, as realization dawned on me. No, I wasn't numb.
I was dead.
But also apparently still here.
Checking myself over, purposely avoiding looking at the body, I saw I looked exactly the same as this morning, if not better. The thin yellow rope-belt I'd hastily wrapped around my waist this morning to cinch in the floaty dress now looked like spun gold. My loose white sun dress was pristine, and seemed to be fluttering gently in a soft breeze. This wouldn't have bothered me if I hadn't been inside, with no windows, and no wind.
Looking across the rough cement floor to where my body apparently lay at the bottom of the stairs, I swallowed the rising ball of fear in my throat and jerkily moved forward to inspect. This version of me was in the same outfit, except there was blood seeping through the white fabric of my dress. My left arm was bent under and behind my body, with my right flung across my color bones, almost as if to reach my shoulder. There was a large crimson stain spreading under my arm, over my ribs..
Tearing my eyes upwards, I looked over my face. Large purplish black bruises covered the side of my forehead and left temple, and more were appearing along one side of my jaw and around my neck that was crooked at a sickening angle. Blood trickled from my split bottom lip, pooling at the corner of my mouth then sliding across my left cheek to the ground.
Unable to take in what I was seeing, and to carry on my inspection, I stumbled away from my body. Shuddering, I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling the need to physically hold myself together. This was just a bad dream, I told myself. A particularly vivid, and horrific nightmare. After the climax of seeing my body's injuries, I'm going to wake up in a minute, and be normal again. Alive.
It was a different sensation to feeling numb. Standing there, looking down at my body. The pain was gone, all feeling was gone. I felt a shudder of horror ripple down my spine. My stomach twisted in knots, as realization dawned on me. No, I wasn't numb.
I was dead.
But also apparently still here.
Checking myself over, purposely avoiding looking at the body, I saw I looked exactly the same as this morning, if not better. The thin yellow rope-belt I'd hastily wrapped around my waist this morning to cinch in the floaty dress now looked like spun gold. My loose white sun dress was pristine, and seemed to be fluttering gently in a soft breeze. This wouldn't have bothered me if I hadn't been inside, with no windows, and no wind.
Looking across the rough cement floor to where my body apparently lay at the bottom of the stairs, I swallowed the rising ball of fear in my throat and jerkily moved forward to inspect. This version of me was in the same outfit, except there was blood seeping through the white fabric of my dress. My left arm was bent under and behind my body, with my right flung across my color bones, almost as if to reach my shoulder. There was a large crimson stain spreading under my arm, over my ribs..
Tearing my eyes upwards, I looked over my face. Large purplish black bruises covered the side of my forehead and left temple, and more were appearing along one side of my jaw and around my neck that was crooked at a sickening angle. Blood trickled from my split bottom lip, pooling at the corner of my mouth then sliding across my left cheek to the ground.
Unable to take in what I was seeing, and to carry on my inspection, I stumbled away from my body. Shuddering, I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling the need to physically hold myself together. This was just a bad dream, I told myself. A particularly vivid, and horrific nightmare. After the climax of seeing my body's injuries, I'm going to wake up in a minute, and be normal again. Alive.
Introduction
Okay so this blog will be for a story I'm working on. I find I write quite a lot on here in this format, so am going to see if this will help solve some of my writers block.
Also now school and exams are finished, I'm going to try and put more effort and focus into this while I can.
I'd apreciate any feedback, including constructive criticism.
Thank you :)
Also now school and exams are finished, I'm going to try and put more effort and focus into this while I can.
I'd apreciate any feedback, including constructive criticism.
Thank you :)
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