Her Word

A story I wrote a while ago for my friend's birthday. The theme is "Outcast".

 

Mary’s Word

 

“Time…I want time, all of eternity for my wings to be open and let me fly! I hate this because as a mortal…there will never truly be time for me. We don’t live forever and our way of life wastes the time that is our lives, not waiting a moment or silencing the world for one second to be a year. I hate being mortal, I can’t live; time is binding me, holding me down with chains that bind my wings, so that I may never spread them and fly outside the reaches of this hell of a thing called time! I want my world back, my heart…my mind!! Mary, please tell me…tell me you can give me time. Tell me; you must tell me. I will hear from no one else! You are my friend, are you not? Tell me; if you are, then please, I beg of you, tell me!!!”

Salias was yelling to her friend, Cecil, though it definitely didn’t fell like it. In truth, Cecil was one of her new friends since Mary, but she could never hope to measure up to the one formerly known as Mary. The town of Lacomonuk knew Mary to be sweet, kind-hearted, thoughtful, generous, cute, intelligent, socialable, friendly, quiet, and the only one who could handle Salias.

Mary was protected and cherished by Salias, while Salias looked to her for guidance and an “escape”. Salias was no ordinary girl of sixteen; she was mean, cold-hearted, truthful, overprotective, out-spoken, anti-social, loud, unique, unpredictable, and yet nothing close to selfish. Only Mary had ever seen or known the real side of Salias, past all the masks she makes for people. [“What are you talking about, Mary! These facial expressions, my masks, are a part of me, a part of who I am! I can’t suddenly throw them away! Don’t you know; I even have a mask for you!!”]

Mary and Salias had been together since Mary was ten years old. Salias had saved her life, when she was on the brink of death. A plague had infected Mary’s country when she was seven years old and a year later, her family and all the townspeople were killed by the plague, leaving Mary all alone in this cold cruel world of war and hate. Some people had found her in the hope of more survivors, but she was the only one. She went from town to town, the plague following her everywhere she went, being there every place she turned. Soon, people came to believe that she was the sign that symbolized the plague was coming. No one dared to take her in.

Finally, after two years of wandering, four people took her in, but their intentions weren’t good at all. The people locked her in a rented house, blocking every entrance and window, setting flames to the place as they cried to her, “Now the plague has no one to follow! The Devil’s daughter is dead!” Mary didn’t scream for their delight to be satisfied further, instead she stood amidst the flames, watching them dance and play around her as she cried silent tears of sorrow. Accepting her death that night, Mary sat down and curled up, awaiting her death to come from the lively flames that danced all around her, though that isn’t what happened.

She fell asleep in the flames and at the strike of dawn, Mary woke up to find herself looking at the house she was to die in the night before. People encircled the remains as the bodies of four people were discovered in the remains, lying on the ground dead. The corpses were those of the very people who had set it aflame and had hoped it would bring her death. Somehow, she had switched places with the four and they died instead. Mary looked around her, wondering to herself, “Who did it?”

Mary searched her surroundings with extreme curiosity, confusion, and anxiety until someone caught her attention. It was a child, apparently, who stood upon the ledge of a roof two houses over from the house that had burned. The child’s attention was obviously situated on Mary, seeing that they only smiled after Mary had looked at them. They wore a dark brown cloak with their hood overshadowing their face; all that could be truly seen was their smile.

From that day on, Mary had a mysterious companion that watched over her from a distance. It wasn’t until after Mary’s sixteenth birthday that the girl finally came face-to-face with her. On a particularly bright and wonderful day, the child appeared before just as they did before. The child was a girl; she had long waist-length brown hair, enchantingly mesmerizing hazel brown eyes, pale white skin like snow, and seemed to be twelve years old. Her hair was held back by a metallic blue ribbon, she had a lot of gold bracelets and armbands on her right arm, she wore the same cloak as before, and she was barefoot. She told Mary that her name was Salias. Mary questioned the girl of their first encounter and she responded, “You created me, so it is my purpose to serve you and protect you from harm. I can’t exist, if you don’t.” The girl’s answer had been abstract as she didn’t even try to explain anything of what she meant, but then, Mary nearly figured out its meaning a few months later.

Someone had invited Mary into their home with the same intentions as the people who tried to burn her alive. In the middle of the night, the person owning the house sneaked into Mary’s room with a newly sharpened dagger in hand. Salias immediately came to Mary’s rescue. Mary woke up in the middle of the struggle and watched in horror. Curled up, sitting up straight against the wall, Mary cried as she prayed and begged that Salias didn’t get hurt.

“Now I got you!!”

The owner had Salias pinned to the ground and in one swift movement, stabbed Salias through the heart. Clearly, the dagger had pierced straight through Salias to the floor, but no blood ran from the wound and Salias was perfectly fine. Salias was smiling upon their foolishness and said tauntingly, “Was that supposed to hurt?”

The owner of the house let go of the dagger and backed away towards the door, and cried, “W-What are you?! Y-You’re not human. Y-You’re some sort of monster!!”

“No, but I am a creature of dreams.” Salias rose from the floor, not even bothering with the dagger because it passed through her as she got up like someone waving their hand through steam. Trembling wildly in fear, the owner looked on in horror and ran out the door. A solemn expression appeared on Salias’ face as she stared back at the dagger and said, with a clear image of the owner pictured in her mind, “Kill them, they must not escape.” As if alive and to obey her command, the dagger floated in midair and flew out the window. Mary looked at Salias and opened her mouth to say something, but then suddenly a bloodcurdling scream sounded out through the streets below. Mary rushed to the window, while Salias stood motionless in her place. People were gathering around a body in the middle of the street, near the entrance to the house. Straining to look closer and hear better, Mary leaned over the ledge and saw something devastating. The body belonged to none other than the owner of the house she was staying in; they were flat on the ground, dead, with a dagger through their heart and a look of undeniable terror on their face. In the instant that Mary figured out the identity of the deceased body, she realized that it was Salias; Salias was the murderer. Frightened, Mary stared back at Salias, only to find her sitting against the opposite wall, gazing at her with sad helpless eyes. “I-I’m sorry I killed them. Please don’t be scared of me or angry at me for what I’ve done.” It was then that the twelve year old girl cried, right in front of her eyes. Not once, in the last few months that Mary had spent with Salias, had she shown any actual emotion to Mary or anyone else; this was the first time.

Feeling extreme sympathy and sorrow towards Salias, Mary walked over to her and embraced her. Salias still cried, but at least her tears had lessened. Waiting a little while, they packed up their stuff and escaped through the back. The two traveled for one year in the hopes that one village would be kind enough to accept them, and finally, they found one. A rich baroness took a liking to them and gave them an apartment to live in. They lived in peace with the townspeople for three years, until foreigners came from the north. The foreigners recognized them and took this chance to kill them. Six of them had attacked and a few had managed to pierce Mary with three daggers before the townspeople came; one dagger was in her lower abdomen, another was in her shoulder, and the last one was just an inch off the location of her heart. Salias had killed off all the men and now sat at Mary’s side, trying to get her to hold on. By then, Mary had somewhat realized the full extent of her power and what she could do to Salias. Mary knew that what she was about to do had to be done before she died. Gathering up all her strength, Mary rested her hand on Salias’ head and said, “You are like a sister…to me. So my last gift to you…is to make you…mortal. Maybe in my next life…I’ll see-you-again…my Sa-li-a-s.” With those words, Salias became mortal with her first sight being Mary’s hand falling to the ground and all life leaving her body. That day, five months ago, was the day that Mary died and gifted Salias with mortality.

Salias had gone mad; she isolated herself in utter darkness, stealing away only in the dead of night, having frequent break-downs and seizures, becoming as white and dead as a ghost, barely eating or drinking enough that could sustain a normal person. Her long hair grew ‘til it reached the floor, being as brittle as dead vines; her once lively hazel brown eyes were now a dead, menacing, dull brown; she no longer tied her hair, letting it cascade to the floor as it gave a frightening appearance like a demon; she switched her dark brown cloak for a black cloak that looked as if it was meant for a vampire; and her expression was as cold, sinister, terrifying as an ice queen, maybe worse.

Now, before Cecil’s eyes, Salias was breaking down. Break-downs weren’t so harmful for Salias herself, but they were for the people around her. Scared for her own safety, Cecil ran out of the dark apartment, leaving behind Salias…to die. Salias retreated through another door of the room to her bedroom, walking over to her bed and lying down. A single candle burned next to her as she waited for death to fall upon her. Smiling a warm distant smile, Salias closed her eyes and said to a nonexistent Mary, “Mary, you once asked me, “Why didn’t the dagger pierce through?” I didn’t answer you, but now I will. It is because, as you have suspected, I was never human before your death. I was created by you, your dreams, your heart. That night, you begged and prayed that I wouldn’t get hurt. You didn’t need to, but you did and that made me invincible. If you hadn’t prayed, the dagger would’ve actually pierced me, though still no blood would have spilled. It is because you are my creator; I am connected to you by mind and soul. Since you are my creator, only you have the ability to hurt me or kill me. I should’ve died the moment you did, but you made me mortal, gave me life and thus I couldn’t go with you.”

Salias opened her eyes and found Mary standing at her side, smiling down at her as she was surrounded by a heavenly light. Distant and practically expressionless, Salias looked at her and asked, “Mary, why did you make me mortal? You knew I would die a short time after, you knew I would go insane, and you knew I would still be reborn without being a mortal anyway. You created me and you could create me again.” Smiling gently, Mary shook her head and answered, “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Mary glanced over at the candle, its light dimming as it too reached its end. Just then, Salias had a seizure. There was a sharp pain in her heart and she lost her ability to breathe. Not even bothering to look away, Mary stared down at her with deep sorrow. First waiting a little longer before, once again smiling gently, Mary leaned over and whispered, “Now, it is time to let go,” then kissed Salias on the forehead and she died. On her face, Salias wore an expression of profound serenity and content. The flame of the candle distinguished as it burned the last of the wax. This marked Salias’ death.

- - -

A four year old girl stood at her mother’s bedside, watching her newborn sister squirm in her arms. Her mother handed over the baby to the girl’s father, who stood behind the girl with as much joy now as the girl had anxiety. The girl stared up at her father and new little sister, radiating a smile as bright as the sun, then asked curiously, “What will you name her?”

Her father sat down in a chair and answered, “I don’t know, Mary. Ask your mother.”

She turned around to face her mother and said, “Mom?” Her mother smiled at her, then at the baby, thinking of a wonderful name. She turned back to Mary and said to her daughter, “What about Salias?”

The little girl smiled and responded, “I like it!” She hopped over to her father’s side and said to the baby, “My new little sister, Salias! It’s my turn; I’ll protect you. I’m always going to be by your side, never will you be alone…I don’t want you to be alone.”

The parents looked at each other, confused about what Mary meant when she said, “It’s my turn; I’ll protect you.” They decided against it, smiling at their two daughters, never thinking it possible that the two had once known each other in a previous life…          

Reviews

[Juliet]

Woah! This is really good! I don't know if you're going to continue, but I really think you should...