The Orb

It was flying. Where was it? What is it? It was just flying. Nobody knew about it. Nobody ever saw it. I just soared through the air, undetected. There were old myths about it. 'Nobody has ever seen it. It must be because the ones that have, are dead.' Everyone doubted the myths. They thought the idea was ludicrous. But I know the truth.

One night, I was just sitting in my room, trying to draw. It was hopeless. But I kept on trying. Suddenly I hear a loud bang from outside. The sound knocked everything off my desk, including the paper I was drawing on. I thought it was my brother, playing with some Illegal fireworks again. I didn't know how wrong I was. I walked outside, ready to shout, and there I saw it. A small, round object, sitting where our old willow had been. I walk up to it, wondering what it was. I didn't want to touch it, just in case.But my curiosity got the better of me. I picked it up. I examined it. I seemed to have a somewhat reddish greenish glow. It was quite warm.

I carried it into my room, and set it down on the table. I examined it more closely. There seemed to be many tiny holes in it, leading all the way through. I picked up my things off the floor, got myself a pen and a piece of paper, then started jotting down every single feature. I was so... intrigued by it.after finishing two pages worth of writing, I got a new page, and drew. I didn't know what I was drawing, but I did. What did I draw? I drew the thing. I drew it flying through the sky. I drew it's adventures to different places. I drew its feelings. I drew it all. I kept having to grab a new page as the last had absolutely no space on it at all. I could draw for hours. Days. Months. Years, even. Yet I couldn't. It felt like the wrong place, and time. 

I stacked my drawings and my written information into a nice pile and found a folder to put everything in. I picked the thing up again. I felt its curvature. Its weight. Its heat. I was half tempted to show my Mother, but i had to keep this secret. Nobody could know about it. It was mine. I placed it snugly in my pocket, and asked my mother for dinner. She gave it to me (steak, sausages and salad), and I carried the plate back into my bedroom. I had to think. What was it really? Why was I compelled to draw so much about it?

I felt, awkward. Like, I had never felt this emotion before. I didn't want anyone to take it away. But, it was so strange. What should I do with it? I measured it. I measured it completely. I opened my computer to search for a wood-worker who could build something small in a short amount of time. I wanted him to make a small stand. I didn't tell him what it was for, but I gave him all my measurements to make the sitting place for the thing. I sent him the money. I wanted it quick, so I have him a bit extra. While I waited, I sat there and stared at it. For ages. It felt like time had stopped.

It was a hour later, when the door bell rang. I took my eyes of it and ran to the front door to meet the carpenter. He gave me my stand. Then he asked what it was for. I said I couldn't tell him. That it was a secret. I thanked him, then closed the door. I ran back to my room, and placed the stand on my desk. Once I found the best place, I put the thing on the stand. I walked out of the room again to gather a bigger pencil case full of more pencils. I also gathered two large suitcases worth of paper, then brought everything back into my room.

 I drew again. I didn't know how much time passed. I drew page after page, pencil after pencil. I had no idea where I was getting all my ideas from, but I knew all the same. The thing. It compelled me to draw. It was teaching me. It was giving me knowledge. It was telling me about itself. What it was. Where it had been. Why it was here. It was all in my drawing. After a few hours, maybe days, I must've passed out.When I woke up, it was gone. I was sure I locked my door and my window. It was just gone. I searched for it in my cupboard. My drawers. It was nowhere in my room to be found. I had to spread the search. I unlocked my door and stepped out. I wasn't in my house. I Looked around I was outside. I turned around and looked at my room. All I saw was the open door and the interior of the room. What had the thing done. It abandoned me in a forest. I scrambled back into my room before the door shut itself. I thought I was mad. I looked out the window. All I saw the forest.