The Destiny of an Iris

November 24, 2009
By MENTALxXxGRL BRONZE, Pueblo West, Colorado
MENTALxXxGRL BRONZE, Pueblo West, Colorado
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
The noblest pleasure is the joy of understanding.-
Leonardo da Vinci

Iris blinked rapidly, as her eyes adjusted to the light. She tried to stretch only to find that her arms were tied behind her, in an amazingly tight hold. Her hair was in her eyes; wet and matted. She looked around. She was in a small room; She could barely see, but from what she could grasp, it looked small, tidy, and creepy. She lifted her head up, and then groaned at the pain in her neck. The room reeked of expensive cologne. It smelled so strongly she wanted to gag. 'Where am I' she thought. "That my dear." A voice said from behind her. She jumped; Startled. "Is hardly appropriate to ask, at the time." Iris tried to locate the source of the voice. She looked around but only saw darkness. It was obviously a man... Or a woman who was loaded up on T. The voice was harsh, but had a sweet undertone. "Who's there?" She asked shakily. "You don't remember? Well now my feelings are hurt." The voice spoke again. Slow footsteps approached her. She felt heat radiating from a figure behind her. 'Maybe if I can channel his energy, I can break the rope.' she thought to herself. "Iris. You know I can hear you right?" Her breath was shaky. 'He can read my mind?' The footsteps walked to the side of her, and then to the front. She looked up slowly; Afraid of what she would see. A man was standing before her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she drew in a sharp gasp at his sight. He was perfect. His skin was smooth, and pale; Features hard, and defined. His hair was black. So black it looked as if there were purple and blue streaks. He was easily six foot or more; Way taller then her five foot five. His eyes were a dark emerald green. Gentle, but hidden behind the emeralds, she could see pain and anger.. And betrayal. Iris sucked in air, and tried to slow her heart beat. "Who are you?" she asked, weakly. "Iris. You have to be joking... You don't remember?" she shook her head slowly. The man sighed, and started to pace. "I should have expected this. Of course you don't remember. It was so long ago.." he mumbled to himself. "What are you talking about?" she asked harshly; More confident then before. The man just shook his head. Iris could barely remember anything, but she remembered one very important person.... "Where's James?" she asked. The man stopped mumbling and pacing, to look at her. "James?" Iris nodded. "My brother. Where is he?" The man chuckled. "So you remember your brother, but not me?" The man shook his head once more. "Where is he?" she asked again with force. The man glared at her. "Your brother is fine. I did nothing to him, if that's what you're thinking." he snapped. Iris flinched at his words. The man smiled. "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to shout." Iris just stared. 'Sure..' she thought. "I didn't!" he yelled. 'Man. You have some conflicting emotions..' she thought. The man just smirked. "You're funny." he muttered. "You can read my mind." Iris stated. The man nodded. "Yes. Yes. You're not the only special one, dear." She frowned. "I know that." she snapped. The man just stared at her. A door in the corner opened then; Letting in more light. Iris squinted as another person walked in. Whoever it was shut the door behind them, thankfully. It was a woman. She was tall, and extremely skinny. She had short blond hair. Her eyes were a soft blue. Her skin looked flawless. She could be a model. "Ah. I see our little guest has woken up." the woman exclaimed. Her eyes were smoldering with anger; as her mouth curved into a strained smile. The man glared at her. "Naomi. What do you want?" she shot a look at him. "I just wanted to tell you that Anastasia is ready." Naomi walked out of the room briskly after glaring at the man one more time. Iris raised an eyebrow at him. "My sister." he said glumly. "Anastasia?" she asked. "Um. No one. I must go." he said quietly. He walked out of the same door Naomi did, and left. Iris was left on the small room; Still tied up, still confused.. And now worried sick about James. Her brother. Her pride and joy..

Iris sat there in the chair, her vision still blurred, her arms still tied. She started to fall unconscious, when a rumbling sound from her stomach made her jump. 'When is that guy gonna come back? I'm hungry..' she whined inside her head. Everything was so strange. She didn't remember much. When had she been "captured"? Where was James? Why was she supposed to remember the man? She knew they had never met. She surely would've remembered that face. Iris sighed. Was she just left here to wonder? Did the man just do this for his sick amusement? Why was Naomi so angry at her? These questions buzzed around her mind. Stinging over and over again. She longed for the answers she did not have. The door opened then; This time the light, not as blinding. It was Naomi. Her eyes still ruthless, and this time her mouth snarling. "What?" Iris asked; Trying to sound big, but feeling very small. "You!" Naomi shouted. "It was you!" "What?" she repeated again. "Oh don't play dumb. You know what you did. Jonathan believes you don't remember, but you can't fool me!" Iris just stared. She had no idea what this scary blond was talking about, and frankly, she didn't want to know. Naomi struck her across the face. Tears started to form in her eyes; Both Naomi's and Iris'. "My mother died, because of you! Everyone thought you were so precious, and important.. More important then my mother." "I-I.. I don't remember. W-What do you mean?" Iris stuttered. Naomi let out a piercing shriek of agony then. Tears streamed down her face. "I've been waiting years to find you. To get my revenge, and you don't even remember!" A tall woman came rushing in. She was dark, and had long black hair pulled into a braid. She threw her arms around Naomi, and shook her. "Naomi! Stop!" Naomi kept sobbing, and shook her head. "It was her!" she shouted. The woman just shook her head. "No. Not her. She had nothing to do with it. She was only a baby when it happened." Naomi shot a look at Iris. Her cheek was bleeding, and she was struggling to hold back tears. "She should not have been born." she growled. The woman led Naomi out the room. "Jonathan!" she called. Iris heard footsteps run over. There was a minute or two or whispering, when finally Jonathan walked in. He ran over to Iris, and stroked her good cheek. "What were they talking about?" Iris asked, her voice breaking, and tears finally overflowing; Streaming down her face, the left side dripping red. "Shh, love. Shh." Jonathan tried to calm her down, but the tears kept falling. He rushed around to the back of the chair and untied her. She jerked her arms back, put her head in her hands. Jonathan lifted her chin up, and looked into her eyes. "Forget about her. I'll take you to Fiona. She'll take care of you." He took her hand and helped her up. Her legs felt very stiff, and she toppled over. Jonathan chuckled, and picked her up in his arms. She normally objected to anyone doing that, but right now she had no other option. Iris closed her eyes, as Jonathan carried her to another room. Her lay her on a bed. She opened her eyes, and saw Jonathan and the woman who took Naomi away standing over her. The woman tsked. "Naomi got her pretty bad." "Yes. Make sure Jarret keeps her away." he strode out of the room, and shut the door behind him. The woman just smiled at Iris. "What was Naomi talking about?" she asked weakly. The woman sighed, and sat down on the bed next to her. "Well, my dear. That is a long story." Iris nodded. She could that the woman didn't want to talk about it. She remembered Jonathan saying her name was Fiona. She would get her to cough the story up sooner or later...

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This article has 3 comments.

DEMON said...
on Dec. 23 2009 at 5:02 pm
"The Destiny of an Iris" is beyond description! I often express my opinion about Teen Ink writers' work, but this story cannot be held in neat, little boxes called words. Excellent. RAZE or RANT about the infamous work of DEMON in...


Wisps of smoke danced into the wintry air from my lips, creating ornate designs that could never be replicated. I carefully tilted the corners of my lips into a smile that I meant to be wry. Of course, it's difficult to articulate emotions that I can't feel, but I find that irony is relatively simple to demonstrate. I inhaled the toxic vapors of the cigarette casually. Its sinister, black cancer couldn't cripple a seventeen-year-old boy with no lungs, let alone a heart.

I glanced in the direction of the horizon, and flinched. The sun was dying flamboyantly, casting its radiant colors across the sky. Its last waves of light caressed my cold, pale skin. I wanted to snarl rebelliously as I felt its warmth slide against me deviously.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

My muscles went rigid, and I had to focus madly on controlling my shaking hands. I would know that voice, that beautiful, disastrous voice, in the realms beyond that of Earth. I grated my teeth, reeling in the disturbing sensations that she unknowingly always aroused in me.

I cocked my body towards her arrogantly, and lifted my mouth into a crooked crescent moon. I felt my eyes flashing, but I worked vehemently to fixate an arctic, hard tone into the dark of my indigo irises.

“I find the sunset lifeless and meaningless, actually,” I countered flatly, and a beat too late.

She laughed merrily, and I struggled within myself as my mind and body became entranced by the beautiful movement of her laughter as the colors of the sun played about her.

“You amuse me, Darian. How can you have such a pessimistic view of the world? The sun will not be lifeless until it disappears beneath the horizon, and the night falls. It’ll rise tomorrow, though,” she said.

I dared not think of her name. I hated the way my soul-if I had a soul-thrilled when her voice lingered over my name. It reminded me of music. I had to close my mind defiantly as I thought of music. I wanted nothing that resembled passion.

“That’s an inane notion that foolish women entertain. You want poetry, and ridiculous vows of forever. You aren’t difficult to read. If you want that sunset to mean something, then you want unrequited love. It doesn’t work like that,” I growled unmercifully, angry at her for unleashing the flood of feelings upon me.

DEMON said...
on Dec. 23 2009 at 4:59 pm

Her lovely green eyes shifted into hard emeralds.

“What do you know about me, Dare? And what’s so wrong with having dreams? And why are you talking to me like that? I was simply commenting on the sunset.” She tossed her red curls, clearly miffed.

I lifted my chin, and blew smoke in her face. It was easier on me when she was angry. I don’t know why she bothered with me. Why she was brave enough to confront me. Why she didn’t follow the laws of the superficial high school we both attended. Why she didn’t stay away from me, like everyone else.

“You’ll die from that smoking, Darian.” She glared at me. We’d had this argument a lot. I lifted my eyebrows, and turned away from her, signaling that the conversation was over.

She didn’t obey, and I sighed.

“You know, Dare, you could let yourself feel. You could understand it.” Her voice was soft, a whisper in the darkening air. She was air. My air.

I reviled the potency of the emotions I could feel pulsing through me. I ran a hand through my black hair nervously, my body skidding with strange, unfamiliar energy. I didn’t want to answer her. Why didn’t she leave?

I made a fatal mistake when I looked at her. Every nerve inside of me screamed, as though my body and internal organs were recharging hurriedly in the rare moment of my awakening.

I think I felt my heart beat hesitantly.

My voice seemed like that of a stranger. It had a rich, deep tone to it. It had color.

“Understand what?”

Something in my expression changed the way she was looking at me. It may have mirrored the arrangement of my own features. She became vulnerable in that instant.

“Kiss me.” She whispered brokenly.

Surprise jolted keenly through me. God, I wished I was numb again. Everything felt electric-too intense and too vivid. Emotions scattered across my being, a mutinous invasion of the raging war against myself. I was defenseless and an easy prey to her request. I breathed jaggedly, and there was a husky vibe to it. Want. I recognized it more clearly as it bloomed vibrantly through me.

And she was waiting. For me.

I destroyed the walls I had so warily built as I leaned towards her. She lifted a creamy hand and laid it tenderly against my cheek, the expectation making her bold. I moaned, and closed my eyes. My own hands loosened, and reached for her face greedily

Something hot-burning-ignited against my skin. I wrenched myself away, dazed by the unpleasant sensation. Had a spark traveled through our bodies? That’s when I noticed the cigarette kindling like a faint ember beside my marred hand. It had burnt me. The throbbing pain brought a wave of consciousness through me. Reality. And I stared at her face, inches from mine, and something clicked inside of me. Gears that began humming smoothly, like a tuned clock. I pulled back, and tossed her hand away like it stung. I grimaced as the vitals within me slowly resumed their state of nothingness, and shook my head to clear it of its nonsensical ideas.

She watched the change take possession of me, and tears began to collect in her eyes.

I found that I could care less.

I grinned at her, and mocked, “I taste of cigarettes, Clara.”

She got up shockingly to her feet, and backed away as if understanding for the first time what I was. Tears stained her nondescript face.

I smiled, that careful replication of a smile, and said acidly, “Did I humor your silly fantasies well?”

Her face crumpled entirely, and she pivoted away and ran sobbing from my scathing ridicule.

The sun died, and all was dark.

on Dec. 21 2009 at 11:28 am
...PensiveGurl... PLATINUM, Aurora, Colorado
20 articles 0 photos 268 comments

Favorite Quote:
You get ideas from daydreaming. You get ideas from being bored. You get ideas all the time. The only difference between writers and other people is we notice when we're doing it- Neil Gaiman.
Who are you to be who you are?-Le'Na Pernell

I hope you write more on this! This was super good! >.<

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