|Who opened the doors?
Author: Sysi PM
You can't understand the present without the past and that applies also to her and her young life, which he seemed to shatter.Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Romance - Words: 3,521 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 05-07-06 - Status: Complete - id: 2168981
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Who opened the doors?
She was alone, sitting on a bench in a park. She had lifted her hand in front of her face and she was looking it intensely. The whole night she had been there sitting all alone in her own misery and worries. Now the night was behind her back and morning was coming – at least the sky was becoming lighter and lighter, predicting the sunrise. Some birds were singing faintly with off-tune voices.
She had remembered how years ago, when she had been but a 13-year-old child, one evening had changed her whole life. She had hurt somebody – maybe the youngest one of her sisters. Her mother had been furious, she had been crying silvery tears while cursing her and yelling that they weren't her real parents that they couldn't be, because their child would never be such a monster. Her father had hit her hard and told her to get away. They had slammed the door shut in front of her young face. She had been left alone.
She had had no idea what to do. She was a monster, yes, that was true, but... Why wouldn't she have been their child? She hadn't understood. Somehow she had managed to survive one night on the streets. When the morning had come, she had gone back to her home believing her parents wouldn't be mad anymore and everything would be like it had been before. Her mother had screamed and tried to stab her with a kitchen knife. Her father had cursed and shouted to her that she should stay away from their home. She had understood that they were serious.
She had tried not to cry, but instantly when she had got out of their sight the tears had started flooding from her eyes. She had decided to die. To jump from a bridge. It had been an early Sunday morning. People had been asleep and there hadn't been many cars under the bridge. She had run to the bridge and climbed on the railing. Looking down she had seen a darkgrey asphalt. She had wondered if she would really die like this. Was it sure that she would die when she hit the asphalt?
She had intended to find out, to pray one last time (or maybe she should curse her parents?) and jump down. She had hesitated a little, made an attempt to calm down and not to shed tears. Finally she had inhaled deeply like a diver, who intends to stay under the surface of water longer than ever before, and prepared to jump. Because of a sudden quirk of fate, or God, or whatever, she had glanced around before jumping. On her left side, still quite far away, she had seen a boy that she estimated to be a couple of years older than her. Boy's hair had been reddish brown and his clothes had looked odd and slightly arhaic.
She had frowned a little. Was the boy going to stop her? She had shouted to him that it would be no use, he would never reach her in time, that she would have already jumped to her fate before the boy would have run even half of the distance between them. The boy's face hadn't betrayed any emotion. There had been a brownish shade in the boy's skin and his large eyes looked kind of spooky. They seemed to look both inside and outside at the same time without seeing anything and still noticing everything that was happening around the boy. She couldn't have prevented herself from shivering while looking at the boy, who had walked in a weird way, like a fox: placing one foot exactly in front of the other one. In the thin layer of snow that was covering the ground had been left a completely straight line of foot prints. The boy had been wearing a confusing looking jacket which had been both dark red and crimson colored at the same time. He had also had pitch black trousers with reddish brown stripes. She had never seen anybody wear clothes like that boy's.
The boy had said that he was in pain. It had taken her a moment to realize that the boy was talking to her. His voice had been calm and had reflected hardly any emotions. She had looked at him and wondered – no, hoped – that he could help her, because in truth she hadn't wanted to die at all. Never in this way. He had ceased walking and glanced at her without a word. She had stared back at him. Come with me then, the boy had said. Hesitantly she had leered at him and told him she was a beast, told him she had hurt people, her very own sister, too. He had just caught her eyes with his own and she had understood that he knew and probably, maybe, wanted her to come with him because of that.
She had jumped off the railing and gone to the boy. She had asked where he would take her. She had seen an almost unvisible smile on his nearly colorless lips while he had answered that first everywhere in the world and then straight to the Hell. She had warned the boy that there were things she wouldn't do. He had nodded and smiled in a manner that had made her a little nervous. That smile had been half amused, half pitying and a bit malicious. But she had gone with the boy.
And now when she was thinking about it, she understood that he had been right. She had done everything he had ever asked – killed people, robbed them, taken care of the boy, fullfilled even his tiniest wishes – and he had taken her everywhere. She shook her head. But now he had left her behind and she was in Hell. She had to be, or why else would the world be so ugly and horrible? With him everything had been beautiful and just. Now she wasn't able to find anything that would not be cruel, terrible and harsh. She didn't have anything else but self-disgust anymore, which was tearing her apart with its sharp, silvery claws.
-:- -:- -:-
"I take it you are enjoying this?" inquired one of the figures that were keeping a little distance at the girl sitting on a bench. They were standing on a small hill where grew trees and next to them was an old and partly rusty fountain. The man, who had broken the silence, had long white hair with a tint of grey. He pushed his locks behind his ears, when they flowed on his face in the still air. Next to him was standing quietly a young boy fingers hidden inside the wide sleeves of his red jacket. He was roughly estimating maybe seventeen, maybe a couple of months less or more. Both of the figures were staring at the girl, who was examining her hand, and read her thoughts.
"Why are you torturing her like this? Why won't you just send her away to Hell?" whitehaired man asked trying to tie his flowing hair. The other figure didn't say a word. "You are cruel, aren't you?" Not even a muscle on his face twitched.
-:- -:- -:-
She was still sitting on the bench. She could heard water rippling somewhere. Might be the fountain, she thought. It wasn't far away from the trees, or so she recalled after a moment of wondering. Maybe it wasn't there anymore, maybe it had been moved to some more joyful place, maybe it had been torn down. How could have she even known something like that? She let out a deep sigh.
Everything had changed after the redhaired boy had come to her life. The whole world, or more likely her way to see it. Hard to say. She didn't feel like remembering the boy. It always made her sad and bitter and angry and frustrated. She had realized she had fallen in love only after he had left for good. It wasn't fair at all. To fall in love with a boy like him, when the world was full of guys who were handsome and nice. It was downright cruel. As cruel as I was killing on his orders, she thought gritting her teeth together and trying not to cry.
The boy had never told her his name, so she had decided to call him "Dvennie". It had just occured to her and sounded adorable. Most probably she had just hoped him to get angry about it. He had never shown any emotions, his features had always, always, always been completely empty of emotions. It had been both appealing and frightening at the same time. Like the fact that he had talked to her only when wanting something. Only when coming to her and telling her that he wanted fresh food, beautiful food. And every time she had gone and found some young, innocent, pretty person for him to eat.
Dvennie hadn't ever let her to watch him while he was eating. To tell the truth she hadn't even wanted to know how Dvennie exactly ate. It would have surely been horrible to look at, even though Dvennie were definitely too beautiful to be horrible. It's possible for only ugly people to be horrible, beauties are always shocking or tragic – or frightening. But any being as beautiful as Dvennie would never, ever, be simply horrible.
-:- -:- -:-
"Wow, she really seems to be either blind or plainly stupid", the blond man marked with a hint of surprise in his tone. "Shouldn't you blush after such an overwhelming flattery, Dvennie?" Not even the sarcasm easily heard in the voice when it said the name managed to made the youngster react.
-:- -:- -:-
A sigh full of pain escaped her lips. It had been a long time. Loads of water had streamed in world's rivers since she had last seen Dvennie. Adorable, quiet, meditative, heartbreakingly beautiful Dvennie, who had all the time seemed to look everywhere and nowhere with his weird eyes in which seemed to blaze two torches.
Once they had been in a hotel room. The hotel had been fancy and expensive, that she had known for sure. She had had no idea why they had been let in and take a room, when both of them had been clearly underaged. Dvennie had surely seen to it somehow, in the end he had been the one doing all the talking. Their room had been frighteningly large or it had at least felt like that. Dvennie had instantly walked to one of the comfy beds and collapsed on it like a delicate flower. She had first thought that he had died and she had panicked. She had dashed to the bed and shaken his cold, stiff body with all her strenght. There hadn't seemed to be even a spark of life in his motionless figure. She had cried out his name and screamed. Untill Dvennie had opened his eyes and said he was tired beyond all words and wanted to rest. She had fainted of relief.
When she had regained her conciousness, she had found herself lying on the other bed. Her head had been sore and she had whimpered faintly. She had glanced around while getting up after a moment of hesitating. Dvennie was nowhere in sight. The other bed was empty and only a small wrinkle in its bedcover was marking the exact place where Dvennie had slumped. She had been so shocked she had thought she would break into tiny pieces. But how about Dvennie, what in the world had happened to him? It wasn't unusual for him to disappear for varying periods. Sometimes he came back the following day, sometimes she didn't hear a word of him in weeks. But she couldn't make herself to believe that he would have just walked out of the door and left her there lying around unconcious.
Calm down, a familiar and still yet strange voice had demanded. No emotion had dared to sound in the voice that had come from behind her. She had turned around and seen Dvennie standing on the floor, an open window behind his back, next to her bed. She had asked worriedly if he was all right. That time there had been a clear expression on his face – it had said with capital letters: how dare you even question that?
She had smiled relieved and happily. And almost choked when she had felt Dvennie's fingers touching gently her neck. He had whispered that she was finally awake. She had been scared, first time she had been afraid of Dvennie. Somehow he didn't seem be like himself, he didn't act like he usually did. He had thrown his arms around her. She had told him that she didn't feel well, that she still had a light headache from fainting, and she had asked Dvennie to let go of her. He hadn't shown any signs that he had even heard her words. Scared to death she had repeated his name over and over again and begged him not to do anything to her. She had almost missed his nearly unaudible whisper that had informed her that he would give her a special gift, an only gift he could ever give her.
He had pressed against her and carefully kissed her. Dvennie's lips had felt cold and chapped. She had looked at his eyes feeling miserable and getting more and more scared when his nose touched her cheek. She had stared at his weird and beautiful eyes and seen a lighted torch in both of them. She had watched the wild dance of flames amazed and with delight, forgetting completely who and where she was. She had only stared into the fire and realized that Dvennie had no pupils or irises in his eyes. There were just two torches blazing brightly and between them, a gateway. She hadn't seen any smoke rising from the flames. She had tried to struggle closer, to touch the gateway, to open it. However Dvennie had backed away from her and rosen his hand in a repressive gesture. She had seen the gateway to move further away and fade into the darkness. The light of the torches only had still shone through his eyes, looking like two small reddish sparks. She had reached to Dvennie in order to pull him closer, to pull those small lights closer.
He had vanished.
-:- -:- -:-
"Damn you, Dvennie!" one of the figures hissed. "Don't you understand what you have done?! We had a deal! You promised you would never, ever, despite the circumtances, embrace a mortal!" The other figure kept silent, like he was outside the conversation. "Dvennie! Whether you like it or not, we are going to discuss this!"
"We also agreed that I have my right to choose my play things among the mortals. It was the price you had to pay for the immortality I gave you", the figure that hadn't yet said a word spoke with emotionless voice. "She's one of them."
"Why on Earth did you them make her immortal?!"
"You read it from her thoughts." The voice didn't quiver. "I wanted to give her a gift. Immortality is the only thing I can give to a mortal."
"You are destroying her! She blames herself for everything that has happened and you made her immortal. Now she can't even die and find the peace from herself in that way. The only way for you to make up for your mistake is to go back to her and stay with her eternally."
"The eternity would be quite short time", the figure said. He was fingering his sleeves nervouslya and looked ashamed. "I'm in love with her." The other figure's hair zapped completely straight. They stuck out in every imaginable direction and did a magnificent job at reflecting his shock.
"You– You aren't supposed to even be capable of loving anything!" the blond man stuttered. His face had become almost as white as his hair. "Damn you, Dvennie, don't joke like that!" The expression on his face told clearly that he hoped more than anything that Dvennie would admit kidding him. However the boy with reddish brown hair stayed quiet and a slight blush crept to his face.
"That did it, we are going!" the whitehaired man roared and grabbed the boy's arm quite harshly. "Dvennie, promise me for the sake of your own well-being that you will never try to find that girl again, that you won't ever even think about her again. The last thing I want is an apocalypse during this century."
"I love her, she loves me. We would have been so happy together, wouldn't we?" the boy asked with a muffled voice. The blond man's eyes narrowed.
"If she ever found out what you are, she would truely hate you from the bottom of her little heart to the end of days. I told you already: don't think about her. Never again."
The boy let his head fall. He could feel strange pressure in his eyes. He shivered like a leaf that has fallen too early from a birch tree and cried out with a desperate tone: "Jijani! Jijani!"
The whitehaired man saw tears glittering in the boy's eyes and the light of the torches lingering.
-:- -:- -:-
Surprised she lifted her gaze up from her wrist. The tone was unfamiliar, but the word wasn't. Jijani. Dvennie had always called her with that name. It wasn't the name her parents had given her, definitely wasn't, but sounded nice – almost as nice as Dvennie. She got up from the bench and started running towards the peak of the hill crowned with trees, where the voice had come from. Her breathing soon become short gasps and she started panting. The sound of water was becoming louder and louder the nearer she got. The fountain hadn't been taken apart, no, it was still here and worked. And Dvennie was here, too, he was somewhere here, waiting for her.
After getting on the top of the hill she instantly saw Dvennie close to the trees. There was somebody with him though, a tall man who was pressing a handkerchief on Dvennie's face. Dvennie wasn't struggling, he wasn't fighting at all but was standing still, unordinarily hunched. Frightened she yelled his name as loud as she could as she ran towards them intending to help Dvennie. The unfamiliar man turned his head in order to see her and the gaze of his shockingly green eyes seemed to hit her so hard that the air escaped her lungs. Dvennie didn't react. The man was shouting something angrily at her, something with an odd language, words she didn't understand. Every single syllable seemed to pierce the air.
It reminded her of her past, of her father, who was cursing her. She ran as fast as she ever could and pulled Dvennie away from the man's grasp yelling that Dvennie was hers, her own, and that the man should never touch Dvennie or else he would face painful death. The whitehaired man's laughter was mocking everything she tried to do, mocking her very existence. His eyes were gleaming with rage and he hissed that Dvennie wasn't something a mere girl could own, that Dvennie wouldn't belong to anybody before the whole world collapsed. She was trembling with fury and she punched the man. The man lost his balance for a moment.
-:- -:- -:-
The boy with reddish brown locks looked their fight through his teary eyes.
"My dear Life, my dear Jijani", he sighed quietly. The torches in his eyes had already died down. Even though the girl and the man fighting didn't notice it, the light of the rising sun wasn't pure yellow but a reddish, fiery gold. "Oh my dear world." The gateway in his eyes was wide open and shadowy figures were walking through it. One respectable-looking man turned his head and seemed to look right through the boy's eyes.
"Everest, what's happening? What is this all about?" he asked. The boy sighed again and stroked calmly his red sleeves.
"It's the first cry of doom", the boy answered with a hint of smile on his pale lips. He seemed to find his big words amusing. He looked at the grass growing around his feet. "The irony in it. My brother and my beloved are fighting over me, even though they should know that no immortal shall never reach me."
The sun was shining brightly and its rays were darkred gold. It seemed to know that it would never announce the coming of new day again.