The Advent

The tides start to turn as destiny takes hold of Asher's path.

 

Chapter 1-The Advent

 

 

 

“They hunt, kill and feed on us. Our blood, flesh, brain-everything they can get their hands on. They love to hate us; it’s in their nature. It’s terrifying; even though they are fiction, they haunt us in our dreams and thoughts. They hide in the deepest, darkest corners of our minds and feast on our inevitable fear. Dangerous and unreal things, from dragons, werewolves, vampires and aliens, to crazy, masked, shape shifting clowns! Well, if you get my drift! There are tons of made-up creatures that were made to scare the heck out of us. But we seem to warp them into reality, changing their fiction based bodies into the creatures behind our doors, in our closets and under our beds. Now sometimes they actually might be real; perhaps, dragons in the medieval times and aliens somewhere in the universe. But always, these things exist somewhere whether it’s in reality or in our minds.” Mrs. Tay queerly spoke those words, trying to put a jolt of contemplation in our brains. She licked her lips nervously and her eyes ascended over each body.

            Class was nearing an end and Mrs. Tay decided for us to mingle on this outlandish subject. The other children had a slight look of interest, as it was a perplexing subject, but the magnificent thought of creatures died away quickly for them. A spark in their brains aluminized itself only to dim itself down into the oblivion of the adolescent mind. Leann and I hung on every word spoken though, for we were absolutely enticed by all of it. All things considered we were well-rounded, but we had a couple semi-oddities attached to our profiles.

            Leann and I were straining our heads left to right as if it assisted us in contemplation; our fingers tapped mutely on the level, archaic desks, making unharmonious beats. Frankly, if we didn’t have some ruckus to create we got all to entirely bored.

So everyone else was quietly at their desks, blank, tired expressions in their weary eyes.

We had just read Frankenstein and Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and thoughts of the disturbing and bizarre were stinging the air and, in some of us, the life of things unknown to our world and mindset were coming alive and dancing naked in the open.

            “So, what do you guys think about ‘mythical creatures’? Any thoughts, questions…anything?!” Mrs. Tay asked, trying to ignite some creative buzz in all the drone’s minds.

Immediately, I stopped making commotion on the desk, and a request to put in my opinion was set in motion. Mrs. Tay always acknowledged that my opinions were one of a strange mind, so most times she loved to call on me to hear my say-or at least I thought.

Mrs. Tay gesticulated with a flick of her wrist in my direction.

I lowered my hand and grinned with ecstasy as I triumphantly could speak, the order of the classroom preserved all the while.

“I believe in creatures; I believe somewhere they have places, but we just can’t see them when they are in our dimension. See, they have hidden civilizations, and elsewhere dimensions. Most of them aren’t really made to be scary, I believe, but that’s just how we sometimes perceive their existence. They are only here to live, as are we. So yeah, creatures unknown to man are awesome!” I genuinely expressed my views on the genre Mrs.Tay had chosen.

As my strongly-worded speech came to an end, I looked up to see if anyone was looking at me queerly. Leann was giggling, which made me snicker a bit. A few others were kind of smiling at me as if to say: Hah! You’re really pretty weird! But it’s ok because it’s funny.

I made a toothy smile and cleared my throat, rearing back in my chair, trying not to laugh and waiting for instructions. My teacher, not at all startled by my chatter, for she was quite used to it at this point, began dictating-only her ‘rightful’ duty. She gave me gratitude for my “special” comment and relayed everyone they need to be more…outgoing like I was. I shoved my property somewhat into its appropriate position, swung it over my shoulder, pushed in my chair and lingered silently behind it. Everyone else hurried to do also, so they could get the real greasy food to engulf for fulfillment when the bell rang. We all mingled and broke true order until the bell sounded.

BING! BING!

The bell shrieked a hollow chime that buzzed through my ears. The noise was like a blast from heaven for all. Though it seemed also like a tiny ringing noise that would send a herd of raved monkeys stampeding, the inevitable being as it was. The kids pushed and shoved to get out of their giant prison cells and in the halls. If only it ended there; then they kicked and screamed for their stomach’s sake-just like wild animals. Who knew humans, of all creatures, could be so violent and untamable. Most would try to disregard their behavior, as if the evidence were intangible. I got out of the door unharmed, took myself out of the stampede and waited by the classroom door for Leann. My shoe slapped the floor with a solid beat as I grazed over faces, killing time. I scuffed my shoe’s apex as I tried to see if I could conjure up the sight of Leann emerging from the tangled mess. I finally caught sight of her; she was in a jumble of people flooding the door, but being pushed in the process. The kids made it seem as though the back walls of the classroom were quickly rising in, and their escape time needed to be in mere seconds. Seeing the last kid or so loitering was the only thing that made me sure this wasn’t so. She finally stumbled over and we started on our walk toward our “personal” lunch table.

The halls everywhere were filled with laughing; though at moments I was sure it was squawking or something of that sort. Every now and then I made a sideway glance expecting a bird or horse, only to find a kid with a different odd sense to them like the one I carried. We paced around the giant, blatantly unattended planters and  the old blue poles, walking the hallways silently. I was sure at any time the dangling greens would just pluck me right up and that would be it, but it never turned out to be so…yet.

The air was more smoggy than known and the sky was clouded with puffy white lumps for clouds that, no matter how I contorted my face, could not be molded into something of a fantasy. The halls were always the same: blue doors jutting out from old, tan painted colored buildings’, and scowling teachers and kids wandering hither and thither. It was easily known the age of the school by the chipping of the paint, the squeaks of the appliances, and the way the walls produced blood by one greeting.

I began to take in what had had Leann up three hours earlier each day. She was wearing a aquamarine shirt with a miniature ninja on it that jocularly stated, “If I told you I was a ninja, I’d have to kill you” with a dark blue pair of jeans and a classy pair of Geoff Rowley’s. Leann kept eyes upon her and her spontaneity was at a high. Having her as a best friend was a thing I could find myself smiling warmly about. She had hair the length of a Rupunzel’s it seemed, and the color of steaming, hollow coffee. She also included soft, melting chocolate colored eyes, a warm, welcoming smile and with the figure of a slim, envied runner.

My apparel, that had taken me about ten minutes to acquire, included: a black and green striped shirt with two chunky black buttons on the corners and a dark bow draping off the left side; snug black jeans, and one of my most prized possessions: my DD66 Vans. I had on my assortment of accessories, ranging from NOTW bracelets to a shimmering circular locket that had a black diamond in the middle. My black and white checkered belt, with an alike star on the clasp in the middle, was hung to the side and sloping down my leg.

I was a Japxican: Japanese and Mexican, though both ethnicities muddled themselves together so much so that I’d have to convey to you them for you to comprehend it. I had eyes like sweet tea , long hair with colors of the rainbow, more specifically red, black and brown all at once; a clash of wondrous colors. I included fairly tan skin and a short, regular figure that when you put together Mexican and Japanese, could be expected. I wasn’t much too look at, but I had quite a mouth on me-it was clever and witty at any given time, protests were something unheard of.  My smarts were of a reasonable amount; soccer and wrestling was something I was into and I was somewhat of a social butterfly.

Home life was so-so, not as though it was rich in happiness, but a downpour of drab wasn’t there either.  School was as it should have been: full of everyone we knew in books and saw in silver. And all-in-all, everything else was mediocre, nothing special to it.

I had three things I’d fly to the moon for: God, writing and wrestling; and my mind was almost always on one of those things.

I  suddenly shook my head, descending from my thinking stage as we spotted our table. I had a tendency to jump out of reality when I was in deep contemplation, and that wasn’t exactly a high point in my personality.

Among the array of tables, we had lottery-style picked ours and then named it for ourselves-and by lottery-style I’m not insisting in any way it was a rigged choice.

It was a dingy, red table, though by a quick glance you could tell it wasn’t as if we picked the worst possible. Other tables surrounded it, along with trash strewn everywhere, and rambunctious kids, doing anything to their likings. I  did something unheard of by chucking loose trash into it’s ordained place, proceeding we graced the table with our presence.

“So, whatcha up to?” I inquired to Leann, breaking the ice for what I knew would be a short conversation.

“Nothing much really, just eating lunch, at you know-lunch time! Hah! Go figure! Eating lunch at lunch time!” Leann chuckled sarcastically, but well-intentioned.

“The irony of it all!” I proclaimed, laughing at our twisted sense of humors.

Leann looked as though she was to retaliate lightly, but her jaw snapped shut again without a syllable from it.

Leann and I had been inseparable for what seemed like forever. I’m not talking about the teenage drama book best friends that said they’d be eternally soul buds and had even undergone a blood pact; but true, real friends-as if we were glued together and had decided to make the best of the situation, and that’s how the present day had come to be like so. We had been best friends at the end of the last school year, and had spent our free hours with the glue reattached. We were now back in the school and our awesome friendship bonds still held us together-no glue included. Though, Leann and I had the sort of friendship that only we could understand-and even that statement was part of it. Say that to anyone else and you’d get a raise of the brow and a slight out press of air; but say that to Leann or me and we’d snicker and nod comprehensively.

“So in Spanish today Mrs. Rodney let us listen to her “Killing Us Softly” soundtrack while we made our family tree during class,” I told my friends.

“Was it good?” Samantha Spina asked.

“It was okay,” I shrugged, envying Samantha’s beauty, like always.

“Here, I got you a pretzel,” Briana Durocher sauntered to the table and handed it to me.

“Oh my gosh, thanks girl!” I grinned happily; I was always game for free food.

Briana and I always had a pretzel and blue Powerade whenever I could afford it. I munched on my pretzel delightfully, bouncing with the delicious joy of calories. Briana, Samantha and I were close but we rarely did things outside of school for some odd reason that I pondered every now and again.

“Remember we’re dissecting frogs in Mr. Rozzi’s class today!” Crystal Kim wrinkled her nose in disgust, the thought of frog guts burning the brain.

“Ew!” Stephanie Chen and I fake gagged in unison.

“Gross! Our class already did that! You have to cut its heart out and the whole room smells so badly!” Kelsea Rasmussen shrieked.

“Nah uh!” I laughed.

“Totally!” She snickered.

I was an open book to the whole process of dissection and the horrors I would undergo while under the process of slicing frogs with knives and pinning their legs to metal plates and plastic, waxy paper. My mind had yet to be scarred by dead animals sitting in front of me, odors rising and diluting my nostrils.

We talked a little more and then silence reappeared the caked the table with its eerie body. 

Lunch for others may have been filled with curious affairs, but for my companions and me it was simple: sit there, and possibly eat. Leann opened her brown bag and began munching on a classic combination in white bread. I, on the other hand, never really contented my stomach, but usually drew or looked at my binder or something other than what I should have been.

“Yeah, so….” I mumbled just trying to converse and pass my boredom. As sad as it was, lunch was the class that gave me dreams more than any other.

I fiddled with my hair and glanced around the lunch quad. The lecture from my teacher was still buzzing in my brain and was weighing down my thoughts. I had a very vivid imagination, so  mentioning anything fictional was like giving me an ounce of energy: my brain, even if I didn’t show it, got incredibly hyper. I continued to gaze around to see if I spotted another to converse with-not talking, or listening for even that matter drove me off the edge.

Suddenly, my eyes stopped at the corner of the annex outside the lunch quad, on the black top by the hoops and green. I saw Mrs. Tay and a man that looked as though he were at a funeral conversing in what, from my approach, appeared to be some kind of an argument. Mrs. Tay peered around; I was guessing to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. At that, I giggled to myself, thinking only of my deviousness, and continued to creep in on it. I elbowed Tay, pointed to the scene with a head nod and we watched the scene with awe. Mrs. Tay was glaring and was on the verge of shouting, but continued in a low-toned voice, probably so nothing they expressed was audible-even for the sly deviants. I could tell that blood was beginning to sizzle as Mrs.Tay was scowling and shaking her fists in the air-because when Mrs. Tay shakes her fists it means someone is in trouble. But the man in the suit had motions of pure placidity, and looked like those men who gloated of eating nails for breakfast. He had dark shades on, so I couldn’t see his exact expression, though I pictured it something of a sturdy stare. Mrs.Tay looked so infiltrated by his reactions-or more, lack thereof-and I swore I could so intently picture a brawl breaking out. I began clicking my jaw out of nervous habit and was eager to watch and listen. But, suddenly, a kid jumped in my way and began to humanize to the hooligans around him. He started babbling and roars erupted, but mine was one of a growl.

“Kid, move! Now! Please?” I squawked, not meaning to sound so hostile, but eager to continue my cunning gaze.

The kid looked at me and pointed at himself questioningly. I nodded and made motions for him to move, with a glare that could’ve shattered glass-just in case he wasn’t willing to comply. Obediently, he hopped out of my way and into somebody else’s.

“Thank you!” I called to him inattentively, my eyes flickering to find the squabble.

All I could catch was a furious and death defying look from Mrs. Tay and the expressionless look of what I could see of the man in the suit, before he turned and walked silently away. After a moment, she too romped away, her only ability to transmit her emotions being a light screech. I quickly turned and began doing the same I shouldn’t have been before anyone could see I saw it all go down. Lea and I looked at each other and shrugged in befuddlement, unaware of the events that would transpire not too far off.

                                      ***

 

            The bushes quivered and the tiny, berry-stocked leaves shook in the slight breeze that chilled the atmosphere as I walked home alone-like usual. Practice had just let out, the face telling 5:30 p.m., and I trekked homeward bound, which was still just about too far away. Just beyond Veneto Dr. and Daisy Ln., past all the cloned houses, the second to last one was my residence. I sauntered on the grubby sidewalk, rows of houses on one side of me, and the street on the other, cars whizzing by every now and again. I had a compulsion to kick at the sidewalk, the only thing keeping me being my prized possessions.

            A slow, steady wind blew around me, making a slight wispy noise that ghosted itself through my ears. Twigs and tiny greenery rolled into the path in front of me from the surrounding shrubs. The houses seemed to gape at me with their stretched, glinting eye-shaped window and their wide, scowl-shaped doors. I kept replaying the dispute with Mrs. Tay in my mind. The outlandish discussion we had could’ve played part in it all...

“Pffft. Nawww, probably not,” I claimed, talking noticeably to myself.

Well, my clue-box was empty as to what her secret altercation had consisted of-oh, if only I had heard the words in the feud!

For now I decided to stick the whole ordeal in a safe corner of my mind, where I could contemplate on it more later. I loved taking the leisurely walk home when the temperature was just right and the landscape was beautiful. The flowers on the trees near me were blossoming and the breeze was a warm ease on the grass. It looked like a sea of green glimmering glass shining in the sunlight; I wanted to stick my hands in the trees to shake some flowers out so the memory could last forever, or as long as the uprooted beauty could.

I shrugged, ah, what the heck? Why not.

I strode over to the nearest tree, glancing around to find no one in sight. I Lowered myself to shrub height, the weight of my bag practically flipped me on the concrete. I quaked the tree gently, as not to take out all the beauty. The flowers scurried out on the air, falling and drifting from their homes. Suddenly, as air created a path, dead, decaying flowers lay strewn on the concrete beside my prizes.

My knuckle’s skin dissipated as I scooped a flower off the ground. It was hollow and melancholy in my grasp. I impulsively felt the need to dramatize it, and a picture of me screaming and clenching the flower and its pieces flying off into the wind formed inside my odd brain.

The sullen flower-it seemed as if it was crying of the horrendous murders. I poked the petals a bit and the flower seemed to sag. The beauty of the flower was no more as the flower seemed to have passed on. My breaths were short as the flower began to disintegrate in my hands. It breathed its last breath and then became nothing but dust particles in the air. I gaped at the air as tiny white dots float away-what once was the flower. I shot my gaze to the ground, and sure enough all the other flowers disappeared from sight and floated away as the smallest components of life.

It was a hideously remarkable scene-to say the very least.

My first impression of this all was that it was a dream, but there was no unicorns around or dream guys to chat with me-so I knew this just wasn’t my sleepy conscious .

The flowers had gone beyond death and were now nothing…literally. The pit of my stomach moaned and began to sink-either the earth had raised up, or my stomach had hit the floor with a seemingly audible heavy thud. My body felt numb, my head began to churn with unusable explanations and my heart was filled with uncanny emotions. My breath began to turn to soft wheezing as I shook the tree and nothing came out. I wobbled it violently, not concerned if a flower lost its sweetness, as long as there was some to lose.

“Knock it off! You crazy kids keep ruining the trees! Stop it!”

I twirled around to see a chubby, pink-cheeked, red head lady on her porch shake in disapproval, make noises of the same turn, then waddle back around and slam her door.

I took no heed of her verbal bashing, and continued to shake the shrubbery, despite the leaves descending from the trunk. I sunk low to the ground, holding tenaciously to the tree bark and letting my head rest on my shoulder. I held fast, not shaking it now, but holding it while I caught my breath-a thing which I previously did not know I had gone on a chase for.

What in the world was that!? What’s happening? Who is doing this?! It can’t be a prank because no one could pull that off… who would want to do that anyway?!

My backpack clanked against my ankles as I stood to deracinate myself from my spot on the sidewalk. As the bush shook when I hoisted myself up with it’s assistance, one flower trickled down. The flower…its pink radiated and generated a sense of placidity in me. It left the concrete with my joyous grin.

“There is still one…just one.” I exclaimed, admiring the lone flower.

It beamed in the sunlight. Its petals were strong and sturdy, and middle was a blossoming yellow. Hastily, I got a pencil case out of my backpack and gently placed the magnificent flower in it. I came upon the next tree and put my pencil case down, breathing deeply for fear that the only result that would come from this was the prior one. I carefully placed my hands around the next tree, feeling the smooth bark under my fingertips. I gently shook the tree and waited in anxiousness. Dust flowed from the tree and the feeling of sadness waved over me again…but then suddenly two healthy looking flowers merrily fluttered to the ground. I picked them up and smoothed my hands over their enchanting features. The flowers seemed to mourn for their fellow dead flowers but also seemed to boast over being triumphant.

“Humph. Only the strongest survive…,” I whispered to the living flowers, and I was still remorseful for the other dead victims of vicious nature.

Though, I had a feeling in the pit of my heart; this was something bigger than nature.

 

 

“Hmm…what happened today? What was going on? Garr!” I paced around the room in anguish, recalling the events with the flowers.

I was frustrated because I had no idea what had caused that horrendous incident to occur. I bit my lip as I paced around the room, kicking at the carpet and clenching my fists. I might as well have had a pipe in my mouth and stroking my chin-I somewhat felt obligated to.

This situation needs deep contemplation…right?

I had the living flowers in a bowl full of cool water on the desk-even though I had taken them off the root, they were still astonishingly beautiful. They were flourishing and the essence of human sprightliness. I had a sense that, even though they were merely flowers, they were ecstatic to be alive. It was curious to even me how I managed to conjure up the feelings of things, when I could barely figure my own emotions straight. Thoughts of the flower’s cadavers made my mouth arch down, my brows furrowed. The flashing memory of the flowers disappearing into the thin air lingered in my head. Thoughts of death and bafflement made me shiver, the notion running themselves through my brain and down my spine. Dying, and disintegrating into thin air…no one really remembering who you were-seeing as you were the same as everyone else-just floating away…becoming nothing and never being recollected.

“Erg! Why does baffle me so? Oh, good word choice…no, blah! It’s just a couple flowers. Why am I thinking about it so much? I mean, I know I love nature and all…but man, what has gotten in to me. I seriously need a chill-pill.” I exclaimed to myself with an exasperated sigh.

I scooped a flower out of the bowl and plopped on the bed. I held the extraordinary plant in the palm of my hand. The water drizzled off it and swam down my arm. The water was refreshing to the touch. I held the blossoming beauty over my head and watched the flower from above, letting the water jump from it and leap onto my face. The cooling, clear liquid ran down my nose and I crossed my eyes watching, it spill down the center of my face. Just the sight of the living flowers and luscious water soothed my perplexed mind. I always loved when I could enhance the radiance of an object and exaggerate it. I was a poet, so I was very much into detail. I adored writing poetry and it got my pain out so I decided to write some poetry. I placed the flower into the bowl-which provoked the water, making it lap over the side of the bowl, soaking a slab of my desk. The swirl of the water seemed to put me in a trance; I began watching the water circulate throughout the bowl, not acknowledging it dribble down my desk. I tilted my head with the water, watching the water go around and around.

            I blinked, breaking the hypnosis, quite confused of why it had enticed me in to begin with. I sat down and rummaged through my desk for some paper and anything to write with. Once I got my materials I got my inspiration-the death of the nature-and began. As white became black, an odd smile arranged itself on my face-as the black became sanity, emotions flowed to the depths of me.

            I mulled over the poem afterward, smiling victoriously from the impressiveness it. Then, shifting my self-generosity, I wrinkled my nose, figuring it was horrible and I could do better. I mumbled in Spanish and, yet again, let out a sturdy sigh, a bit of the peculiarity relieving itself from its pummel on my wits.

            So, then my brain was replenished and all was well in my little world for the time being. Now, I had to push the flowers out for the moment, I didn’t want to feel the odd uncertainty anymore…but I still didn’t their memory to cease in intangible existence!

            However, a thought still bewildered me, why was I so upset about flowers, what was changing in me?

            In frustration and utter fatigue I plopped on the bed, sprawling across it and making the whole bed unruly.  As if he were a ripple in a pond,  wriggling lump under the covers signaled me that my precious dog had gotten in the bed and I had disturbed him. I searched blindly for his head under the covers, and when I found it, I stroked it, kissing the puppy. My dog lying there beside me somehow eased my tension a bit, maybe the thought of loneliness dissipating was a relief. I turned on my CD player and had TFK playing low on it-I figure music is a  necessity when judging straight took place. I inhaled deeply, and as if I hadn’t had air in hours, I took long soothing breaths. It was still all so chaotic!

            “Wait a second…I wonder if this has happened to anyone else! Has it?” I asked myself dumbly.

            Okay Asher, who else is that crazy in the world that they have flowers spontaneously combusting right in front of them?!

            I laughed, side-tracked-the phrase ‘spontaneously combust’ always grabbed a giggle from me.

But if I asked someone they might think I was crazy.

Pillar was quaintly encouraging me though:

“There is one thing,

you’ve been meaning,

to talk about but don’t know what to say,

and that one thing,

you’ve been feeling,

chances are that someone feels the same.”

“Good song, good song…seems like a sign from God to me,” I murmured to the CD player, the morality filled melodies chiming still.

            In spite of God’s apparent indication, I was still hesitant. Confiding in a person, then having to counseling with ‘high mental insanity’ on my portfolio was the very last thing I sought after. I situated my hands on my head, ruffling my hair but also massaging my head-trying to release the some of my relatively uncalled for tension. I was exhausted though, so I let my hands fall to my face, covering my eyes. Without hesitation, I closed them, eager to drift off to a land consisting of only my imagination. Black surrounded me, a calming black though, not the type created to frighten. Little streaks of electrical, colorful lights floated in and out of the eternal darkness. It was a comforting sight-mellow yet bursting with energy.

            “I guess I’ll know I’m really crazy if I start naming the flowers…” I snorted sleepily, attempting reassurance that I was still reasonably sane.

            I continued to watch the enchanting rays of beauty as they lifted me up and gently tossed me into the world of dreams.

 

 

Reviews

[Beth Wilcox]

I loved thiis.. I can't wait to read more.