Don't forget: There are 5 other Parts to read! Look to the links on the left and enjoy! -m
It was the day after Ravigie noticed the magic written on the palms of my hands. I had bidden my time the rest of that day; I wanted her to let me out of her sight for just a few seconds.
While I waited, I sat cross-legged in the dry, dry, dry dirt in front of our house. There had still been no rain. I licked my cracking lips and wished I hadn't. It almost made it worse to moisten them with the tip of my tongue. Grimacing, I pressed my mouth into a thin line and tried not to think about how dry it was.
A dot appeared on the road about a mile away, and as the minutes passed the dot grew into a blob, then a thing with legs, and finally, a person. A small person. It was one of the children who had thrown things at me when I was trapped in the coop. I sneered at him when he was close enough to see my face. I believe he knew the danger he was in almost immediately.
He stopped when he was ten feet away and stared at me. Then: "I...Ravigie?"
I shrugged and began to pick at my toenails. They were lined with fine dark dirt that I flicked at the boy while he stood there.
"I need Ravigie," he said again, sounding not-so-brave.
"Everyone needs Ravigie," I said and flicked more dirt in his direction.
The boy drew a sharp breath. Obviously whatever his mother had told him to do was more important than his fear of me, because an instant after his breath he was trying to walk around me, into the house. I laughed at him and shut the door by flinging my hand towards it and thinking, "Shut!" loudly in my head. It worked.
The door slammed loudly. Though I heard Ravigie yell in protest from the back garden, I was too much enjoying the look on the boy's face to stop. The whole village would hear about how the girl with the demon's eyes shut a door without even touching it.
I grinned. "Oh, that's not all I can do," I said, standing to my feet. The electricity was tingling in my fingertips. A grayish-blue smoke appeared around my hands, which I closed into fists. This was the shadow that I could see at the edges of my vision. Although the stuff around my hands was lighter in color than the shadows chasing me. I lifted my hands, pointing my palms at the boy's chest, thinking that he would never taunt me again.
And then Ravigie took both of my hands in hers. She was standing behind me, and so she had to reach very far forward to wrap her fingers around my wrists, but then again, maybe I only felt far away. The magic was suddenly extinguished.
"What do you need, boy?" Ravigie asked.
"W-water," he said, still staring at me.
"I don't have any," Ravigie said.
"Neither does anyone else," the boy said. He sighed and looked very, very sad. "Nevermind." He didn't even give me another scared glance before turning around and walking away.
I pulled my wrists from Ravigie's grips and turned to face her, wordlessly.
She eyed me and I could have sworn I was about to get slapped across the face. But instead she said, "His mother just had a baby. They named her Gianna."
I thought of the babies I had known. They were generally cute and smelly. Then I considered the boy, what he had asked for, and his demeanor when he left. "Gianna needs water?"
"Everyone needs water. Without water, we would all die."
"Is Gianna going to die?" I asked.
Ravigie shrugged her thin shoulders. The sallow hollows of her cheeks were proof of the things she was giving up so I could eat and drink goat's milk. "Unless something saves her," she said as she walked back to the garden. Just before she rounded the corner, though, she glanced back at my hands where the shadows and electricity were hiding.
28 January 2012
11 November 2011
Tristessa's Story, Part 5
Follow Tristessa through her mother's disappearance, bullying, and the mysterious appearance of the shadow-man in Parts 1, 2, 3 and 4. Satisfaction guaranteed! -m
I couldn't stop thinking about Ambreel-the-shadow-man, as I called him in my head. I began to imagine conversations with him while I was doing my chores. And then I imagined that he brought friends with him, children I might have known while living between the stone buildings in my life with my mother.
I loved imagining the children. They were sweet and helpful and aided me in sweeping the floor and cleaning out the chicken coop, and they talked about nice things like hot baths and clean toes and dresses that fit instead of hanging on my skin and bones. Every day I thought of them, they grew clearer in my mind, even gaining personalities and quirks. I loved the feeling of creating something so useful, and I relished the feeling of electric power I had whenever I was talking to them.
Ambreel was a gentleman and walked with me around the perimeter of the house after Ravigie decided I was allowed to venture there.
"How are you today, Ambreel?" I asked.
"I'm just fine, Tristessa Dellatierre," he said, using my first and last names, which I had almost forgotten existed.
Thinking of that, I asked, "Do you know my other names? I know there are others."
Ambreel shrugged his shadowed shoulders and I felt electricity tickle my palms. "I am in your imagination, Tristessa. You'll have to remember your other names for yourself."
"Thank you, Ambreel," I said. Turning the corner, I almost ran into Ravigie.
"Who are you talking to?" she asked forcefully. The smoke fled to the corners of my vision and the power stopped tingling in my fingers.
"Nobody," I said truthfully. I was talking to shadows and my own imagination.
Ravigie sniffed as though smelling the air and kept her nostrils wide. "You're lying," she said. "I can feel his magic. Where is he hiding?" she added, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards her. I had to stand on my tiptoes so that her vise grip wouldn't break my arm off.
"Who?" I asked as innocently as I could manage.
"Don't toy with me, child. I know his scent and I've heard you talking to him this past sennight. I will not be lied to. Now where is he?"
"He's nowhere," I said. The feeling was gone in my left arm and my calves were burning from standing so tall. "I just pretend to talk to him."
Ravigie looked at me with horror in her eyes. Without another word she dropped my arm to grab my hand. It stung as blood flowed back into the veins. The old woman held my hand up, holding her thumb in the center of my palm and pressing hard.
"Ow," I said. "What are you doing?"
"You're marked," Ravigie said, giving back my hand. I rubbed it and held it safe against my stomach.
"I don't understand," I said, knowing that she meant she could see the designs on my palms.
Ravigie looked at me shrewdly. "Don't use that magic to do anything stupid," she said. Just when I was about to ask another question, she walked away. Like she had told me not to forget to milk the goat. Like what she had just said was the simplest thing.
I cleared my throat and swallowed, letting her leave without a fight. When she was back in the house, I looked down at my hands. Magic? As I looked up again, my eyes drifted over the form of the brown paper package, which was still on the kitchen table. It made me think of the courier who had looked at me with fear, backing away before I had even had time to say hello.
Resolution flooded my mind. If I had magic, then I had power. And if I had power...no one could stop me.
I couldn't stop thinking about Ambreel-the-shadow-man, as I called him in my head. I began to imagine conversations with him while I was doing my chores. And then I imagined that he brought friends with him, children I might have known while living between the stone buildings in my life with my mother.
I loved imagining the children. They were sweet and helpful and aided me in sweeping the floor and cleaning out the chicken coop, and they talked about nice things like hot baths and clean toes and dresses that fit instead of hanging on my skin and bones. Every day I thought of them, they grew clearer in my mind, even gaining personalities and quirks. I loved the feeling of creating something so useful, and I relished the feeling of electric power I had whenever I was talking to them.
Ambreel was a gentleman and walked with me around the perimeter of the house after Ravigie decided I was allowed to venture there.
"How are you today, Ambreel?" I asked.
"I'm just fine, Tristessa Dellatierre," he said, using my first and last names, which I had almost forgotten existed.
Thinking of that, I asked, "Do you know my other names? I know there are others."
Ambreel shrugged his shadowed shoulders and I felt electricity tickle my palms. "I am in your imagination, Tristessa. You'll have to remember your other names for yourself."
"Thank you, Ambreel," I said. Turning the corner, I almost ran into Ravigie.
"Who are you talking to?" she asked forcefully. The smoke fled to the corners of my vision and the power stopped tingling in my fingers.
"Nobody," I said truthfully. I was talking to shadows and my own imagination.
Ravigie sniffed as though smelling the air and kept her nostrils wide. "You're lying," she said. "I can feel his magic. Where is he hiding?" she added, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards her. I had to stand on my tiptoes so that her vise grip wouldn't break my arm off.
"Who?" I asked as innocently as I could manage.
"Don't toy with me, child. I know his scent and I've heard you talking to him this past sennight. I will not be lied to. Now where is he?"
"He's nowhere," I said. The feeling was gone in my left arm and my calves were burning from standing so tall. "I just pretend to talk to him."
Ravigie looked at me with horror in her eyes. Without another word she dropped my arm to grab my hand. It stung as blood flowed back into the veins. The old woman held my hand up, holding her thumb in the center of my palm and pressing hard.
"Ow," I said. "What are you doing?"
"You're marked," Ravigie said, giving back my hand. I rubbed it and held it safe against my stomach.
"I don't understand," I said, knowing that she meant she could see the designs on my palms.
Ravigie looked at me shrewdly. "Don't use that magic to do anything stupid," she said. Just when I was about to ask another question, she walked away. Like she had told me not to forget to milk the goat. Like what she had just said was the simplest thing.
I cleared my throat and swallowed, letting her leave without a fight. When she was back in the house, I looked down at my hands. Magic? As I looked up again, my eyes drifted over the form of the brown paper package, which was still on the kitchen table. It made me think of the courier who had looked at me with fear, backing away before I had even had time to say hello.
Resolution flooded my mind. If I had magic, then I had power. And if I had power...no one could stop me.
Tristessa's Story, Part 4
Check out Parts 1, 2, and 3 of Tristessa's narrative to get caught up on her journey. -m
The package on the table taunted me. I could hear it: "Triiiiiisteesssssssaaaa.... I'm waiting for yooooouuuuu. Just waitiiiiing. Open me....open meeeeee..."
In any other circumstance, those words would be creepy, even terrifying. But instead of being worried, I was strangely comforted. I was not the only peculiar thing in the village. If I could hear the voice of a brown paper package, then surely there were stranger things than me. For the first time in months, I could feel my spirit lifting.
And then I realized that the shadows on the edge of my vision were not normal things.
The realization came one night when I snuck out of the house. Ravigie was sleeping. I still wasn't supposed to go any further than the front stoop, but being outside at night was the only freedom I had left. And with the package taunting me, outside was the only place that the voice stopped whispering in my ear.
I'd been outside before, on other nights, but this night felt different from the moment my right heel touched the other side of the threshold. I shivered and cleared my throat as my stomach tightened. Something was wrong. Adrenaline beating like drums in my veins, I looked inside, back into the shadows.
Dark smoke poured into my peripheral vision, clouding things until the only thing I could see clearly was the package on the table. Something like the sound of feet scrunching on gravel happened behind me, and I turned back around to face the outdoors. The smoke followed me, taking on the shape of a young man.
The darkness poured first into his shoes, then up to his knees and waist. It was only a nanosecond but it felt like I watched for hours as this person was formed out of the night. When he spoke, I heard my name. "Tristessa."
"Who are you?"
His face was clearer now; I could even see that he had a sort of a nose and broad shoulders on top of a rather lanky frame. "I'm...a shadow."
"I can see that. Is it parts of you I've been seeing?"
"Parts of me?"
"Sometimes there are dark things over here," I said as I motioned with my hands near my temples. "Like shadows." The smoke was making me feel light-headed, though, and I accidentally scratched myself on the forehead.
The man shook his head slowly, and then nodded. "It's possible. Ravigie can sense when I am near, so why wouldn't you see parts of me?"
"What's your name?" I asked. His skin was solid now, and was taking on a tint like the men from Italia. "Why can Ravigie sense you?" I added as an afterthought.
"Ambreel," he said after a moment's hesitation. And then, without warning: poof. The smoke that had poured into the smoke-man Ambreel seemed to shrink, like it was inhaling. With one great explosion, the smoke exhaled and Ambreel disappeared.
My hair was blown back and tears were pulled from my eyes. I held my breath. In a moment it was over, and the shadows were gone, leaving only the blank darkness of the night. I grinned, unexpectantly feeling powerful. My nerves were jumping in my fingertips and my blood was pumping hot through my chest, though it felt different from normal adrenaline.
I stretched my hands, looking in wonder at my palms. They even looked different. What had that smoke done to me? Tiny swirling designs played on my skin like a kaleidoscope. I turned my hands over and looked at the backs of my fingers. Smoke curled around them like tattoos of vines, then sunk into my skin with tiny electrical shocks.
For the first time in almost a year, I didn't miss my mother.
The package on the table taunted me. I could hear it: "Triiiiiisteesssssssaaaa.... I'm waiting for yooooouuuuu. Just waitiiiiing. Open me....open meeeeee..."
In any other circumstance, those words would be creepy, even terrifying. But instead of being worried, I was strangely comforted. I was not the only peculiar thing in the village. If I could hear the voice of a brown paper package, then surely there were stranger things than me. For the first time in months, I could feel my spirit lifting.
And then I realized that the shadows on the edge of my vision were not normal things.
The realization came one night when I snuck out of the house. Ravigie was sleeping. I still wasn't supposed to go any further than the front stoop, but being outside at night was the only freedom I had left. And with the package taunting me, outside was the only place that the voice stopped whispering in my ear.
I'd been outside before, on other nights, but this night felt different from the moment my right heel touched the other side of the threshold. I shivered and cleared my throat as my stomach tightened. Something was wrong. Adrenaline beating like drums in my veins, I looked inside, back into the shadows.
Dark smoke poured into my peripheral vision, clouding things until the only thing I could see clearly was the package on the table. Something like the sound of feet scrunching on gravel happened behind me, and I turned back around to face the outdoors. The smoke followed me, taking on the shape of a young man.
The darkness poured first into his shoes, then up to his knees and waist. It was only a nanosecond but it felt like I watched for hours as this person was formed out of the night. When he spoke, I heard my name. "Tristessa."
"Who are you?"
His face was clearer now; I could even see that he had a sort of a nose and broad shoulders on top of a rather lanky frame. "I'm...a shadow."
"I can see that. Is it parts of you I've been seeing?"
"Parts of me?"
"Sometimes there are dark things over here," I said as I motioned with my hands near my temples. "Like shadows." The smoke was making me feel light-headed, though, and I accidentally scratched myself on the forehead.
The man shook his head slowly, and then nodded. "It's possible. Ravigie can sense when I am near, so why wouldn't you see parts of me?"
"What's your name?" I asked. His skin was solid now, and was taking on a tint like the men from Italia. "Why can Ravigie sense you?" I added as an afterthought.
"Ambreel," he said after a moment's hesitation. And then, without warning: poof. The smoke that had poured into the smoke-man Ambreel seemed to shrink, like it was inhaling. With one great explosion, the smoke exhaled and Ambreel disappeared.
My hair was blown back and tears were pulled from my eyes. I held my breath. In a moment it was over, and the shadows were gone, leaving only the blank darkness of the night. I grinned, unexpectantly feeling powerful. My nerves were jumping in my fingertips and my blood was pumping hot through my chest, though it felt different from normal adrenaline.
I stretched my hands, looking in wonder at my palms. They even looked different. What had that smoke done to me? Tiny swirling designs played on my skin like a kaleidoscope. I turned my hands over and looked at the backs of my fingers. Smoke curled around them like tattoos of vines, then sunk into my skin with tiny electrical shocks.
For the first time in almost a year, I didn't miss my mother.
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