|Bird that couldn't land
Author: Sysi PM
Young woman sitting in a plane, her brothers trying to sleep and their parents waiting with sinking hearts for news. They hate each other because they're siblings or maybe despite it.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Words: 3,322 - Reviews: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 02-12-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2318829
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Set in the same universe as "Babysitter from Hell" – even the protagonist is same, though at this point he is still using the name his parents gave him.
...Wanna guess which one of the twins is going to become a murderer and which is going to die? My friend says his personality is same than later, so it shouldn't be impossible (I disagree!) to recognise one of them as Celémenta from BfH. Don't be afraid to send a guess (and preferably some reasons for your choice).
Bird that couldn't land
Somehow she managed to sit still. And to wait.
Well, all of them were sitting and waiting, so it really was not that incredible. A young child was crying somewhere and a boy asked his mother why this was happening and why it was happening to them of all people. The boy's mother promised that everything would surely end well and nobody would get hurt.
What else could a mother say to her child? Still, for some reason, she just knew that they – or at least she – would die. Maybe that would be better...
Better? Who she thought she was going to fool? Although she was sitting on her seat, looking perfectly calm, her face with light make-up serene... she was still fuming with rage, hatred – or just sheer frustration. She could not do anything! Nothing! She could not raise her hand and reach her brother through the wall of airplane, through the clouds and through the distance between them. She could not strangle him. Strangle that disgusting, filthy, dirty, hideous creature that everybody thought was her brother.
Calm down. You are going to die. That is a fact, so don't try to convince yourself to believe otherwise. You have done nothing remarkable, Denyell dear, so nobody will remember you after your early death. And your brother is going to mock you behind his funeral veil while they are sprinkling your ashes to that meadow where the graveyard is.
You can't hurt him anymore. You can't tell the world that he was as admirable as a handful of dried orange peels. You can never write your autobiography, Denyell. You can never reveal what you really thought about those monsters you had to call "family" and "relatives".
Denyell, a weathervane, a willow branch, a fury. Had anybody ever thought anything else of her? Maybe Dara, that piece of filth. He had always been annoying, irritating – and mocking. A sin for which he deserved to die.
...A sin? Why a sin? Why had she used that word again? Where had she heard that word before? Where? And what it even meant? Nothing good, that she knew, but what exactly was its meaning?
"You there, mister, listen to me!" Denyell hissed with a commending tone. She grabbed the man's arms and her fingernails dug into the man's skin. It was a quick deed, done almost without any coherent thought behind it. A petition for the fate.
"Please stay calm, miss, do --"
"-- not panic, I know", Denyell replied with a sardonic smile. She winced when she realized it. She was acting like her brother! She took a deep breath and forced a peaceful smile to her lips with a sheer strength of will. She hoped that the expression would convince the man that she was not hysterical.
"Listen to me, please. You have no reason not to listen, right? Where could you go and whatever could you do that would help any?" she tried to reason with her fellow passenger that still looked at her suspiciously. "I want to tell you my life story, so you can write it down or tell it to someone else when you get safely back to your home."
"My dear girl, of course I can listen, but I am not a storyteller nor am I a novelist..."
"That is hardly important. I don't care about it at all. Think about feelings, emotions... Think about opinions, they can't be allowed to die with me!"
"But you are not going to die, miss. We are going to make a safe – though uncomfortable – emergency landing on some field and soon we will be rescued from there", the man assured her with a smile that obviously took more effort than a smile usually would.
"That is rubbish and you know it", Denyell snapped. "I am not an angel, but I can still tell that the time of my death is nearing. I will die soon. If not during the emergency landing, then in the wounds I will get.
"Do not 'girl' me. I'm not addressing you as an 'old man', am I? Start listening now." The last word was said with impatience and desperation.
"All right all right, I'm listening. Tell what troubles you, young stranger."
"My name is Denyell Eliz. I live with my family in a town called Keetta. My family consists of my father Emylias Serah, my mother Poewerian Eliz and my younger brothers Darymae and Darmaen – they are twins. The past two months I have been visiting a friend of mine who lives in Southern Africa and right now I'm on my way back home.
"I'm studying to become custom service person, so I would most likely work as a tourist guide or a cashier. That does not matter now, though, like my childhood, which is also completely irrelevant. I have always been fairly independent and my parents usually described me to their friends like this: 'She is intelligent and inventive. She will possibly become a biochemist.' I mean, they did when I was a toddler.
"And I heard from my friends that their parents had told them not to hang out with me, because 'she is a bit too... wild. It's not all that bad, but must she always do those pranks?' In other words, I was a quite difficult child – and I'm probably still. You could say that I am a rebellious teenager – although I'm too old for that teen part, huh? No, don't be polite and say that I don't look that old. There is nothing wrong with maturity and, in most cases, growing up emphasizes the demon's beauty."
"Well, one can look it in that angle, too", the man agreed politely. "I have never thought about it much, myself."
"I'm sure of that", Denyell responded, with unintended cruelty, and jumped then back to the previous topic. "I got along with my brothers relatively well when I was young. They were always in good terms – honestly, they were practically joined at the hip. However, approximately half a decade ago they grew apart in mere months. I did not really pay attention to it; it was their business, not mine."
Sewerry Dalt listened to the girl's story with mixed feelings. She spoke about her life without a trace of self-pity, though she sounded a little angry.
He had been surprised when the girl – more like a young woman – had suddenly whirled around on her seat and grabbed his arm in a painfully tight grip. She had demanded him to hear her story and completely dismissed all his objections.
The girl had also said she was going to die. That was possible, there tended to be casualties in emergency landings, and Sewerry had no doubt that it would be so now, too.
If they were characters from a film, the girl would tell him something really important and, depending on that piece of information, would have to save somebody's life or maybe avenge somebody's death. Or do both. And if this was a film, the script would state that the girl died before she could tell everything she knew or wanted to say, Sewerry thought, chuckling inwardly. He did not really want to think about the danger they both were in.
But because all this was really happening, the girl was likely just hysteric and for some strange medical reason it manifested as an urge to tell one's whole life story to the person who happened to be nearest. Of course Sewerry had nothing against listening what the girl wanted to tell to him. Like she had said earlier – he could not go anywhere or do anything useful. So listening was a very good alternative.
----- ----- -----
"Hello? Oh, hi Mom. How are you feeling today?" Arye asked, voice carefully blank of emotions in order to make clear that he could not care less and was asking just out of courtesy. Dara could imagine how their mother's eyes flamed with annoyance. "Mom?"
Dara raised his brows in a curious gesture, wondering what their mother had said that had made his twin brother address her with such a rare tone. It had been confused and, only maybe, a bit alarmed. Showing such a rare patience, Dara waited even two minutes before he rose to his feet from the couch he had been sitting on and walked heels making a clacking sound against the floor behind his brother. He pressed his chin on his shoulder, which allowed him to eavesdrop the conversation.
"Yes, Mom, thanks for the piece of information, but I have to end the call now. Dara starts to get anxious and you know what a nuisance he then is. Goodbye." The amount of force Arye used to press the hang up button nearly broke the phone.
Dara grabbed his twin's shoulders to make sure that he could not escape. He almost purred when he listed all the things he could do to humiliate his brother in school if he did not instantly tell what the conversation had been about and why their mother had bothered to call them instead of just sending an email.
Arye snorted saying that he reminded a spoiled princess and pushed him away. To Dara's delight, he told shortly that their mother had been worried of something but hadn't had time to tell exactly what it was. Dara had no doubt that it was something serious. Their parents hardly ever called them from work.
Dara looked at his brother for a long moment before a mischievous smile found his lips. Arye stared back at him and shrugged when the silence seemed only to continue.
"Comb your hair, Arye. I know that the phone call woke you up, but it's absolutely no reason to look like a sole survivor of a nuclear explosion", Dara remarked offering a comb to his brother.
"In that case – and so I would not scar your sensitive eyes with my tangled oh-so-long-and-flowy two inches long hair – could you please tell me how you, with your ridiculously long locks that reach your waist, can look perfect at this hour? Especially as you just came from your room where I assume you were sleeping..."
"Well, in truth, I was just going to go to bed... I came home ten minutes ago... And you won't tell our parents about it!" Dara half commanded half requested, with his violet eyes half opened and sparking threateningly. Arye did not even bother to respond. Of course he would not tell their parents.
He had told them never before either. He was not interested in knowing where and how his brother spent the time he was supposed to be sleeping peacefully in his room and gathering energy for the next school day.
"How about going back to bed?" Arye --- starting to trudge towards his room. He did realize just when he was about to press the button that would open the door that his brother was standing behind him and tugging his arm. He glanced back at him. "Yes? Was there something else?"
"Arye, let's not go to bed yet. Let's converse. Parents are not home, so nobody is going to notice if we stay up late. The morning will come soon. I promise I will leave you alone then, okay? Pretty please?"
Arye stared at the door of his room pondering the different solutions to the problem that was his twin brother. He knew why Dara did not want to sleep. Why he always tried to stay up as late as humanly possible. Why he always escaped to somewhere where people were partying and laughing when the night came. But on the other hand, the school would start in four hours and he had slept only a couple of hours on that night before the phone call from his mother had woken him up.
"Not now, Dara. I just have to rest at least few hours. I'll call mother after school and ask what possessed her to call us in the middle of the night." Arye turned his head more to get a good look of his brother. "Sweet dreams."
He could feel his brother's disappointed gaze on his back when he stepped in his room and let the door glide closed behind his back. It was understandable that Dara would want to avoid sleeping so ferociously. It must have been horrible to go to bed every evening, knowing already that he would have nightmares. Dara had not first told him anything about them, Arye had not even known that Dara's dreams were plagued by nightmares.
He had learnt about it when he had gone to wake up his brother one morning. When he had entered Dara's room he had thought him to be already awake since he had seemed to be moving on his bed like intending to get up. Then, walking closer, he had realized that his brother was squirming and wriggling, sweat glistering on his brow. Dara had also been biting his lower lip so forcefully that there had been drops of blood on his jaw. What had amazed Arye was the fact that his twin brother had not cried out, not even once.
Surprised, Arye had thought it to be just a random nightmare and he had tried to get his brother to wake up. He had first called his name several times, but since it had seemed to have little effect, he had decided to shake his twin until he opened his eyes. Dara had grabbed his arm with one hand and tugged him closer. Arye had called his brother's name again, thinking that he was starting to stir, only to end up yelping in sudden pain and fright when his brother's nails had scratched his face and neck.
He had tried to push his brother away and keep his hands as far from his face as possible. Unfortunately his brother was his equal in strength so wrestling his hands farther from his face had proved to be a difficult task. His brother had seemed to keep being asleep, even while he was clawing Arye's face and neck the best he could.
Grimacing in pain, Arye had yelled him to stop. His breath had hitched in fear when he had felt a nail breaking skin close to his left eye.
Suddenly, Dara had opened his eyes. Apparently Arye's shouts had finally brought him back to wakefulness.
Arye still remembered, and he believed that he would always remember, how they had stared at each other with wide eyes. He himself shocked beyond belief, hurt, face full of bloody tears; Dara face damp with sweat, eyes dark with fear, still as a statue.
Then the spell had broken and Dara had pulled his hands back like they had been on fire. Arye had stepped back a few steps and gently touched his face to define whether he needed to visit a hospital or if simple band-aids would be enough.
"Arye...", Dara had mumbled, shamefacedly, hiding his hands that had a little blood on them in his blanket.
"At least you are now awake. The school starts soon", Arye had stated after a pause. He had really not managed to come up with anything better. "I'll disinfect these while you are showering and getting appropriately dressed for school. You won't have time to eat breakfast, though."
"Wait!" The desperate yelp had escaped Dara's lips when Arye had turned to go. "Don't... Don't tell anybody. Please?" he had pleaded quietly.
"Explain everything to me after school."
After the school Dara had really told him everything regarding his nightmares except their contents. Dara had never been keen on telling him what exactly he did see in his nightmares and after asking gazillion times Arye had given up.
Dara had told him that first he had seen nightmares only occasionally – maybe just a bit more frequently than normal demons – but then they had gotten more and more common until he had seen them nearly every night. And then he could not even remember when he had slept peacefully, without nightmares constantly waking him up. That was why he had started sneaking out and running from one party to another. And when he was actually sleeping he took as many sleeping pills as he could without committing suicide. The nightmares weren't as bad then.
Arye told himself to stop thinking about his brother. He just had to fall asleep now, so he would be awake during the lessons. Especially since he had a biology test on the first lesson. However, the subject was easy and he was good at it, so if he only could get a few hours of rest he knew he would get the best grade on his class – again.
Arye turned his head sleepily. He was trying to focus his gaze at the ceiling and blinked his eyes. He glanced at the digital clock on the wall on his left side. It was a good time to get up. He would have enough time before school to actually have breakfast and call his mother to ask about her reasons for calling them in the middle of the night.
After getting up, yawning, showering, getting dressed, combing his hair to prevent his brother's complaints and making a sandwich he found the phone where he had left it three hours before and dialed his mother's number. Hopefully she was already awake.
"Hello? Who is it? Arye?" His mother's voice sounded exhausted.
"You had something to tell us?"
"Have you watched the news, dear?"
"No, I just woke up. I have a biology test today and I have tried to rest before it."
"I'm sure you will do just fine. You are so clever", his mother replied absentmindedly. There was a pause and Arye suspected that his mother was trying to decide how to break the news.
"What was it you wanted to inform us about? I'll soon be late for school and I have to drag Dara away from his bed before going...", he prompted.
"Has he been staying with those awful friends of his again?! I have said million times --"
"Mom, back to the topic!" Arye snapped as irritably as a teenager could without sounding downright angry.
"Yes, yes of course", his mother mumbled before falling silent. She is about to drop the bomb, Arye mused to himself. Well, I'm waiting...
"Denyell's plane had to do an emergency landing and they had not published the names of the survivors yet and... All the immediate family members were informed as soon as they got the list of the passengers", his mother explained, talking quickly, and Arye was sure that she was not breathing.
"Where are you? On the airport?"
"I'm with your father in the city nearest to the accident place, in Tearawi. We have been waiting for any news for over six hours."
"Call me when you hear something. Meanwhile, I and Dara are going to continue our lives."
Arye hung up and went to wake his brother up for school.