|
Entry #482777, added on 01-21-07 @ 6:24 pm EST.
[Entry Access Restriction] None.
Title:
forty-three: prepubescent boyhood girl
|
Lucia’s face twisted into a smirk at my reaction, which, I had to admit, must have been rather amusing to behold. Mouth agape, while still failing in trying to get the last remnants of the ice cream dripping down my arm, I was quite the spectacle. Of course, all Lucia could do was smirk. Honestly, I had not seen the child give a full smile, nor a snicker, giggle, or chirrup. A simple hiccup would have sufficed my curiosity. It was unnerving, to be sure, but that wasn’t the most unnerving item on my list at the moment. The fact that she was here, that she knew where I lived, was baffling enough.
“Myst Beckitt,” she acknowledged me before sitting comfortably down on the couch, as if this was not a strange situation at all. Oh, my bad, of course this isn’t a strange situation. Just earlier, I was informed that I was constituent of a different planet, complete with membership ID, by my laptop, and then I finished up with talking to my dead grandfather in glowing bulb form. My idea of strange has changed drastically in the last week; that is to be certain.
Crossing my arms, allowing the sticky mixture to end up on my shirt, I awaited for her to continue, only to have my hopes dashed. She remained silent, in all of her glory. While enjoying each other’s silence, I gave her a look over. Once again, her vibrant colors seemed to scar my eyes, just as they had the first time that I had witnessed her. That was the first day that this had started. It seemed so long ago, when in all actuality it had only been a few days. Tomorrow would be Friday, the ending of a successfully insane week. Something about that date sparked some memory, but I quickly suppressed in order to keep my mind on the present situation.
“Lucia…” I muttered. Remembering that I didn’t actually know her last name, I just left it at that, my couth absolutely amazing me. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?” Incredibly enough, I didn’t feel fear or anger while looking at her, just a mass of confusion to which I am highly susceptible to. Perhaps it could have been the strange mutterings that where lining my mind, making sure that I couldn’t get a thought of my own out. I remembered the whispers from the last time that I had seen this girl, but for some reason, they were more powerful now. Louder and more prominent. They demanded my attention, and yet there was so much commotion going on, I couldn’t differentiate any of the words. Just to annoy me, Lucia gave me another smirk of amusement. It seemed that she was using her quota of smirks for the day on me. Honestly, I’m touched.
“Annoying little blighters, aren’t they?” she asked, gently flicking one of her exuberantly long hairs. I let out an insignificant laugh, as if to just get the sinking feeling from my stomach to release. It held no power over it, though. Memories of the last few days drifted about in my mind, including one such memory of a dream that I had. The dream with my aunt and my own dear Lucia, who was sitting next to me at this very moment. So, what, was this a death call? Heh, death call. It’s like a booty call, minus the booty, and plus all the doominess. Wonderful, now I am going to be thinking of Lucia when ever hear that phrase again. Brilliant, just brilliant.
“Can’t even figure them… out. Wait, what? You… you hear them too?” I whispered, my voice raising an octave. Wonderful, not only do I have the body of a prepubescent boy, but now I have the voice of one. Just what I always wanted.
Lucia gave a slight shrug and snuggled in deeper in the cushions, avoiding the smudge of ice cream with a critical eye.
“Yes, but a little different. My whispers tell me about you, while yours… well, yours will tell you how magnificent a being I am. It must be yacking you up a storm with all the tales of my glory-ness.” For the first time, I heard Lucia let out a little snicker. I didn’t know if it was quite me, or if she was just being a character of peculiarity, but her words seemed to be making fun of herself. Her colors would only match such a deduction. Heh, deduction, fun word.
“Well, they certainly are six geese a-yacking, but how do you know this? How can you hear them as well?” Rubbing the sides of my temples, even though, most gratefully, I didn’t have a headache, it seemed that this day was just getting longer by the second. Lucia picked up a strand of her hair and began twirling it viciously. Something was bothering her, I could pick it up on her colors, and I could not figure out why the psycho-lunatic cohort of my psycho-lunatic aunt would be the one that was bothered.
“I really can’t stay long, Myst. I only came here to give you a message of warning,” Lucia whispered curiously. Something was seriously up, and I could feel my stomach give an unpleasant heave at the sudden turn of events. What was she going on about? A message, from my aunt? It was a very good thing that I had my colors up, or else my headache was bound to take a turn for the worst.
“Your aunt is getting closer to the Jewel. If she were to obtain it than all of the Unmanifest World would be destroyed, and it would only be some time before she sets out to conquer this world as well. Know this, Myst Beckitt, you are the only one that can stop her. You are the Radura… you must be. For that reason alone, she will be as swift with your death as she was your father’s or your sister’s. Listen carefully, for I cannot visit you here again.” My eyes felt dry after remaining stiff and unblinking while Lucia carried on in her speech. She knew? She knew about the Unmanifest? But how? This was all terribly confusing, as if it wasn’t before. Something slipped into place inside of me and I realized that Lucia was playing the part of spy against my own aunt. She wasn’t here to kill me; she was here to help me understand that my aunt was doing the naughty, as if I didn’t already know. My grandfather’s words of a teacher spun into my head, along with the first whispers that I had heard in accordance to Lucia. She was to be my guide, and she understood everything without me having to break my neck trying to explain.
I felt myself drifting over the couch so as to sit next to her. There was something about this girl that screamed trustworthy, and yet there was more to her. A certain kind of suppressed darkness, that seemed to eat inside her. Perhaps it was the fact that she was somehow connected to my Looney Tunes aunt, but there was something of a battle going on internally. Without stopping her, I allowed her to continue on with her speech. If this was the last time that we would be able to speak uncensored, then I wasn’t going to waste time with questions. Well, that was my goal, but then again, knowing me… I always was a goal breaker.
“You are one of them, aren’t you? You are one of the people of the Light? Like me? Sort of like me, anyway. I think that I am only half, whatever that means…” She quickly cut me off, desperation leaking out from her eyes, voice, and colors.
“Please, Myst, you have to listen. Yeah, I’m sort of like you. I am one of the Unmanifest and the Manifest alike, but there is something different raging on in your body. Everything that you have ever known about life is about to change. Everything is going to get confusing from here on out, and I am sorry about that.” I gave a slight shrug, which caused her colors to burn fiery at my nonchalance about the whole subject. “Myst, you have to take this seriously! I know that you are happy that there is someone else like you, but right now, the badness has to take precedent over goodness.”
“I understand, truly, I do, but… how many are there of us? Honestly, is it just you and me, or are there more?” My voice sped up as I continued talking, much like a puppy with a nummy liver treat. Yummm, gotta love those liver treats.
“You are impossible, did you know that?” she flung her hands up in the air in aggravation. I nodded my head emphatically, causing a little smirk to flash upon her face once more. It was quickly smothered by the severity of the situation that she wished to discuss. She let out sigh and squished around in the chair. “I hate being the blasted messenger,” she groaned. “Listen, Myst, there aren’t many like me, as for you? Well, there is no one like you, hon. You see, technically, you don’t exist.”
|
© Copyright 2007 Sir Bob the Wise (UN: sirbobthewise at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Sir Bob the Wise has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
[ <<-- Previous || Back To Entry List || Next -->> ] |
Log In To Leave Feedback
