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Blue dreams (1)

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I had an accident when I was five. I only know this because they told me. Who, you might ask? Well, if I told you, you may just accuse me of lying. But, deep inside me, it’s true. I don’t remember it. I lost my memory in that accident, and I’ve never been able to remember anything earlier than my five years of age. But, ever since then, I remember a dream, recurring and strange.

White paneled house-my home. The sounds of screaming bleach my ears, blaring out into the strange colored sky. I’m not looking at the terrified people running in the street. I’m only looking at the blue lightening sky, flashing and neon, blinking with dark clouds and insane electric color. Not the regular color of sky, the soft robin’s egg color, but a thrilling eye popping blue, the kind you only see when you look at lightening for too long. It was like the moon had taken over the sky, the silvery blue leaking onto the face of the earth. It was more beautiful than anything else, but the most terrible color I’ve ever seen.

And I see this frightening sky at least once a month. I hear the frantic cries, the frenzied shouting as the neighbors run like demons down the street. I hardly glimpse at the hysteric people running, but that one glance is always enough. I see the chilling terror tattooed in every single person’s eyes, the deathly hand of fear gripping each and every single person. I don’t know what they’re running from. But the sky, oh the sky.

As I looked up into the stormy sky today, I saw flash backs of my dream. I couldn’t think about that now, though. Not here. I always knew that sometime, somewhere, I’d see something similar to it, but I never imagined that I’d see the sky right in front of me. But there it was, a complete eyeful of the bright lightening sky. It looked as if it would swallow the earth whole, as if the green earth below mattered nothing to its jaws of destruction. And here I stood, staring right into the mouth of the storm.

“Wake up.” Commanded the firm voice I’d grown accustomed to.

I wasn’t asleep. I knew I wasn’t asleep.

“I need you. Wake up.” Pleaded a much smoother, feminine voice. She needed me for what? Why couldn’t she have me? I tried to look away from the sky, the electricity stinging my eyes. I tried to look at the woman, but he harder I tried the more I lost myself. Who was I? I was a test tube. Maybe, if I could just stay with the sky, just walk away…

Then I saw nothing at all.



Simple songs floated though my brain, teasing the cells. Birds. I thought. They were singing, whistling their spectacularly easy songs, drifting trough my mind like a whisper of wind. They were singing, not just calling out to one another. No, not singing, telling me something. Chirping out their peas, hoping that I listen. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

I opened my eyes. I blinked, mechanically, letting the world see my glassy eyes for brief seconds at a time. I knew something had changed about them. When I actually looked at my surroundings, I saw something so unexpected that I squeezed them open and shut again. No, I was still in my room. My room, of all places. I’d expected to wake up in my dream, or in the Academy, but not at home. I’d been taken from my home twelve years ago. I’d become a seventeen year old girl in the Academy, I’d known the academy as my home for my whole life.

“Dominick?” I called. No one answered. I looked around at the bright yellow walls. They were decorated with ladybugs and butterflies, just like they had been when I was taken. I was in the small, unfamiliar twin bed made to fit a five year old. “Clara?” I yelled, louder than before.

I was answered by silence. I pulled the covers aside. I was still in my nightclothes, white flannel pants and a matching shirt. It seemed so normal for me to be in the monochromatic clothes, the pale skin and the colorless grey eyes. But something about my eyes today seemed so different. Mechanically getting off of the mattress and making the bed, I began to see the actual differences. My vision was blocked, almost, and my lids felt cold. I could see just pine, but somehow I felt like I wasn’t seeing everything that I should, like some things in the room were missing, not because they weren’t there, but because I couldn’t see them.

After I was finished making the small bed, I looked for a mirror. I needed to see my eyes. This room was so foreign to me, but yet so familiar. It was the one memory I had of this house, this life, this old me. I found a hand mirror in a drawer of the nightstand to the left of the bed. Everything was so miniature in this room.

I looked in the mirror at my eyes and saw my worst nightmare. Literally, too. My eyes were the intense color of lightening blue. It was a shock against my usually colorless features, a stimulating color that made my heart stutter, skip a beat, and then stutter some more. Could this be happening? I dropped the mirror, in spite of myself. It clattered to the ground and shattered, breaking off in a kaleidoscope of striking blue. “Clara?” I called, with more vengeance.

The wooden door opened a few moments later, but the dark haired woman I had been se familiar with was not standing in the doorway. I didn’t recognize the woman standing there. She had a kindly, smiling face, but this isn’t what made me scream.

She had the same eyes I now did.

“Who are you?” I shouted, backing away.

“Oh, Lydia. Lydia, Lydia, Lydia. I’m your mother.” The woman said, taking a step into the room. I backed away.

“My name is not Lydia. And you are not my mother.” I said, putting as much venom in my voice as I could muster.

“Dominick warned me that you might have forgotten.” She muttered. She was about to plow on, but I stopped her.

“You know Dominick? Where is he? How did I get here?” I asked.

The dark haired woman had lost her smile, and her short black hair bobbed as she shook her head. “Yes, I know Dominick. Not personally, but he gave you back to me. He said to tell you one thing, and that was to wake up. Seeing as you’re awake, you’d better know the truth.” She said.

“The truth?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re name is Lydia.” She said.

“No” I said vehemently “it’s not.” She was lying to me. “My name is Rose. It’s always been Rose.”

“That’s your middle name. Lydia Rose Orton. Daughter of Jade and Bruce Orton. You were in an accident when you were five-“

I cut her off. “I know my life. I lost my memory. They took me away, the doctors did. And I lived there. For my whole life. And now I’m here.”

“That’s what you’ve been told?” the woman, apparently called Jade, asked. “You weren’t taken by the doctors. I gave you to them.” She admitted.

“What? And you claim to be my mother? What kind of heartless woman are you?” I took a step back.

“It’s not that I didn’t love you, because I did. That accident changed you, Lydia. You talked to people who weren’t there, played with imaginary toys. I left you alone in the park for about two minutes and you came back to me covered in scratches and bruises telling me that the faeries did it to you. You kept trying to tell me that when the man, Dominick, appeared out of thin air. He said he could help you. He told me he knew about the accident, he knew what had happened to you. He said he could fix you. It wasn’t the doctors that I gave you to, it was that man. It was the doctors that experimented with you afterward.”

I stared at her in silence. “You never even came back for me. You never contacted me. I had nothing from you. Why should I believe anything you say?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Because, I’m your mother.” She answered, putting her hand on her hip.

“I have no mother.” I said, and pushed passed her. I ran down the stairs, hoping that they’d lead to a living room next to the front door. There was only an empty hallway.

“Lydia!” I heard the woman sternly call.

I bolted down the hallway, running up to the first window I saw. I opened it and vaulted out, a skill I had learned how to expertly do over and over again. I was thankful that this window was close to the ground. My feet expertly touched down, and I ran. I ran out into the street and followed it until I couldn’t anymore. I slunk down the nearest alley and sat down, breathing hard.

I looked around my dark surroundings, hoping to see something I could use to my advantage. When I looked towards the end of the alley, I saw something so beautiful that it looked unreal. The faerie was backed all the way up against the concrete wall, trembling in fear but emanating off an extreme light.

She was looking at me in awe. “You can see me.” She said. “You’re one of Dominick’s children. With blue eyes. How can you see me?” She asked in a shaky voice.

I knew that all people who were raised in the Academy alongside me had had grey eyes just like me. No one had had green or brown or blue eyes. And somehow I knew that every single person there had to have had their eye color changed to get the Sight. But I didn’t have my old eyes anymore. “Because I know that you’re there. With or without my eyes.” I answered.

She loosened up. She stopped trembling, but she didn’t come any closer. “My name is Opaline. You can call me Opal.” She said.

“I don’t know what my name is.” I said as a matter of introducing myself. “But they call me Rose.” I looked at her fragile face and small body. “Can you show me my home?” I asked.

“Depends.” She answered. “Where you were born to or the Academy?”

“The Academy. I just woke up in the house I was born to. And I have no desire to go back.”

“I can show you, Rosa. But you’ll owe me a favor.” She said, letting a devilish smile creep over her teeth. I considered. Faeries were sneaky tricksters. If I gave in to Opaline’s offer, what kind of mess would I get myself into?

“Okay, I’ll do it.” I replied after a while.

“Make a deal.” She said, her eyes flaring. She stuck out her delicate hand. I offered my left hand to her, about to take it when suddenly Opal’s eyes widened and she backed up.

“Stop!” Yelled a male voice.

“Just make the deal. Shake my hand.” Opal whispered under her breath, looking behind us. I turned to look just as she grabbed my outstretched hand. I saw the brown haired boy bound down the alley, pulling out a bow and arrow. As soon as I felt the stinging skin of the faerie, I turned back to look at her just as the boys arrow struck home. She crumpled to the ground, wooden point sticking gruesomely out her bleeding chest. I turned around quickly to face to boy.

“Who are you? How dare you to intrude on my deal!” I flustered, angry. “She was going to show me how to get home!” I said, utterly disappointed.

“Have you ever made a deal with a faerie, child?” He asked, his voice becoming serious. You’d be her slave. She’d work you until you died. You’d never be free. I saved you from that.”

“Thanks.” I said, staring into his light green eyes.

“You’re still mad.” He said.

“I wanted to go home.” I announced, very rudely.

“To the Academy?” He asked.

“How do you know that’s where I’m from?” I said.

He looked me up and down; eyeing my plain pajama’s and tied back hair. “Just a guess.” He teased. I pursed my lips. “I used to live there too. I know the sleepwear. I know the hair styles. I know who you are.” He reluctantly said. “You sure you want to go back?” He asked.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, incredulous that he wasn’t trying to get back home, too.

“Fine. I’ll take you to the Academy. And I’ll come back every single night until you realize that you don’t want to stay there anymore.” He said, looking at me with promising eyes.

“Why? I never wanted to leave before! What will change about it now?” I asked, spitting out my words.

“Because, Rose,” he said, saying my name. “You have eyes now.” He said, and touched my temple. “I always thought that I’d be the only one they would abandon.” He muttered, looking at my eyes.

I smacked his elbow. “Don’t touch me.” I said.

“Sorry.” He lowered his arm. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way out of the alley. I watched his take about three steps before I spoke up.

“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked. This green-eyed boy knew her name, knew what she was, and she had no idea that he had even existed before this moment. What if this boy was going to suddenly turn hairy as soon as the moon shone its face? What if he led her away and sucked her blood? What if he was some sort of demon, sent in the form of a human?

He lifted up his shirt to show his muscled chest. But his abs weren’t the only thing present on his stomach, a black inked tattoo flashed out at me. I opened my mouth to speak, but then swallowed my words. That was enough proof for me.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“What’s you name?” I asked, before I nodded.

He smiled. “Of course, how could I forget? Madison. Oliver Madison.” He said, sticking out his hand. I didn’t shake.

“Last time I tried to shake someone’s hand they were shot through with an arrow.” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

Oliver laughed, and then turned around. “Coming?” He asked over his shoulder. I nodded. He was going to take me home. Home!



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This article has 3 comments. Post your own!

Libby L. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 4, 2009 at 4:35 am:
No worries, I'll expand it and make it a little bit more sensical :D Thank you though!
 
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Schubster said...
Aug. 3, 2009 at 1:51 pm:
cool story :) kept me interested the entire time. You should think about expanding it though....I want to know if Rose wants to stay at the academy! lol, again, awesome job.
 
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kiwi12 said...
Aug. 1, 2009 at 7:51 pm:
Very good, it kept me reading! I don't understand the ending though. Who is Oliver? What's with the tattoo? What's really her home? I want more!!
 
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