All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Ghost of Serenity-Chapter1
It was raining, hard. Thousands of cold water droplets fell on my head. They soaked though my hair and ran down my ivory cheeks, disguising many tears.
I had never felt rain on my skin, only heard it pound gently on the atmospheric dome inclosing our city.
I loved that sound. It was always constant and reliable, like a soft repeating melody. But when I lay there, curled in the mud, I could no longer hear that comforting tune. In fact, I couldn’t hear anything.
The constant torrent drowned everything in a rushing silence, even the explosions erupting from my city miles away.
I could feel the shock waves reverberate under me as they rolled over the desolate, grey landscape.
I watched helplessly as mushroom clouds of black smoke and fire bolted from cracks of the once thought ‘safe haven’. A place where, for fifteen years, I had lived, died and somehow lived again.
The trials I endured there, the falls I had taken, seemed only small stumbles compared to what had happed on the rainy day. Because the place that had harbored and protected my family and I, was being destroyed.
I didn’t know what to do.
The only future I could foresee was to let the grief and pain consume me, to let my spirit die yet again.
I looked up at the sky, grey and dismal, so full of angry storm clouds that it sagged under the weight.
A loud roll of thunder bellowed from above, and for a moment I wondered if the bleak heavens would crash down on me.
I could imagine the city dome doing much the same thing. Its interface shattering into many pieces, falling hundreds of feet only to smash musically on the streets below.
I was a petite person, but to stand under the domes height you feel truly miniscule. It was like a terrarium and we were the sustained specimens, but not anymore. Our sky had come crashing down and I had survived. I was alone.
Fear and worry tore at my heart as I thought of my family. I prayed dearly that they escaped safely, especially Thain. Sevrin, this world of ash, wouldn’t be worth living in without my brother. I know it sounds terrible to favor only one member of the family, but he and I where very close. Thain was the only person who made me feel welcome when I was first adopted into his family. Please be safe…
My mind drifted in and out of consciousness for a while. I was so tired and eager to escape the thoughts that assailed me, but at the same time afraid to sleep. Afraid of the nightmares that would haunt me and if I would be able to escape them.
Then suddenly, two cold hands gripped my shoulder, hauling me to my feet.
It took a moment to drag my mind out of the haze, but when I did fear was waiting with open arms.
I shrieked instantly recognizing white hospital clothes. It was him, the traitor.
He had come back to finish me off. I failed to establish otherwise, since all logic was drained from my mind.
So, I became hysterical. Screaming and writhing as he tried to secure a grip me.
“Let go, leave me alone!” I cried in terror as his fingers dug into my wrists.
I tried to stand upright, but my dainty, black, boots refused to gain traction in the mud.
I was slipping and he had the upper hand.
Then all at once waves of exhaustion rippled though my limbs and my reflexes slowed considerably.
Although I was fatigued, I blame it on my skirt, the many layers of fabric were weighed down with water and it clung to my legs. The blouse I was wearing, was not so much a hindrance, but a worry. It had bunched uncomfortably around my chest in the rigorous movement and I was painfully aware how the rain affects thin, white clothes.
At that point I was more or less protecting my privacy by slumping languidly to the ground, rather than resisting his hold.
But he wasn’t looking at me.
He just stood there, head bowed with wild black hair obscuring his face.
This was puzzling.
His demeanor was no longer offensive. He had let go of me altogether and showed no signs of wanting to strangle me, though his large hands looked capable enough.
Instead, his strong arms pulled me slowly to his chest, giving me time to refuse. But I didn’t, it was a welcome surrender, being supported by someone warm and solid. My head was pressed against his wet shirt it smelled of clean cotton with a light touch of antiseptic. I could hear the calm heaving of his breath along with the steady drumming of his heart.
What are you doing? I demanded of myself, guilt sinking to the pit of my stomach. How dare you trust this man!
That’s right, how could I trust him? This was the man that betrayed my city and my people. This is the man who held a knife to my throat and ordered me to lead him out of the city. Its because of him that day became so horrible, that I had lost everything.
Anger and disappointment burned in my chest and I tried pulling away again, like a fussy child who couldn’t decide whether to be cradled or put down.
“Please…” he whispered, his breath puffing into clouds, a reminder of the cold air.
I stopped squirming, even breathing for a moment, straining to hear his words above the hissing rain.
Would they be words of anger? Maybe a heartfelt apology or a lament of his innocence? The latter of which I most wanted.
But he said nothing more.
Slowly, he lifted his head, water running off his twisted curls and looking up, I saw that his face was young with a soft olive tan. His brow was furrowed in a grimace, eyes blinked repeatedly as water shimmered off his thick lashes.
Then I saw them and gasped aloud.
He had the most exquisite blue eyes, so deep in color, like a precious sapphire. No comparison to my dull, grey ones.
His glinted and sparkled with joy and kindness, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. But they also were overwhelmed with a deep sense of sadness.
I was aware that my lips where parted in speechless wonderment and that I was staring rudely.
But apparently my amazed expression didn‘t offend him. Perhaps he used to having strange young women gawking at his beautiful irises because he whispered, “Look deeper.”
I didn’t pause to ask what he meant exactly, or why he wanted me to, I just locked my gaze on those mysterious eyes.
I looked past the glittering joy, past the sadness and went even deeper into the indigo layers until I saw a flicker.
At first I took the flicker, that light in the depths, to be hope. But it danced and changed shape so rapidly.
I drew in my breath sharply and stifled a scream.
I saw myself. I was the dancing light. It was my future, reflected in his clear eyes, like a mirror of blue glass.
They flickered before me imitating a reel of film. Scenes of my life to come that would inescapably and inevitably involve him. He was always there, by my side while the sky and earth passed by us, decayed and black. Until the blood moon rose and cast red shadows across the cities and their inhabitants.
My head spun and I began to feel sick.
Who was this man?
I regret to say I passed out right then and was unable to see the remainder of the images.
I could only feel his arms take up my limp body and usher me away from that place, from everything I had ever known.
And that my dear reader, is how my old life came to an end and how a new door had been opened. A door