Author: Pickingupthepieces PM
The story of a young magician struggling with poverty. A/N: I wrote this about two years ago, so it's not as polished as usual. Still, R&R!Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Drama - Words: 660 - Published: 12-06-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2977387
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
She is undercover. She hates everything about it, even the 'honour'. She knows that the 'honour' is really something made up by the authorities to fool the poor people into thinking that they can fit in with the rich if they do the dirty work for them. Yet, she lets it go. The time for rebelling will come soon, but it is not now.
She hates the skin-coloured pads she has to wear on her face to smoothen the sharp angles. She hates the brown contacts used to mask her cold grey eyes, making her seem more like an innocent twelve-year-old student. Above all, she hates being one.
Although she wouldn't linger too much on innocent.
She takes a deep breath, adjusts her skin pads and steps into the room. Her demeanour becomes one of a nervous schoolgirl. "I am good at this," she murmurs softly to herself. Maybe she will become an actor when she returns to the Underground. After all, magicians need entertainment, too.
"Um, Mrs Greene? I, um, was wondering, um, if you, um, could…" she breaks off, realising that the woman has not noticed her. Rather than call her attention and waste a brilliant opportunity, however, she swiftly moves behind a curtain to try to get a closer look. It is almost ten metres away from her hiding spot, but her years of being on the run as a child with her sister trying to evade the possible separation that could ensue after being taken in by an orphanage (and everyone has heard the horror stories) have taught her how to be quiet.
"Aaron, I love you. But you can't return. Not as a- a"
Mrs Greene breaks into sobs.
She relaxes. It is just Mrs Greene with her boyfriend. Well, since she is there, she might as well stay and listen. As she has learned in the past few months, the key to popularity in this school of fickle and narrow-minded pupils is gossip. After all, the more she fits in, the greater the success of her operation. And, of course, the higher her salary. She hopes that maybe it will be enough to keep her sister from the fringes of starvation for at least a month.
"I'm not leaving, Gloria!" replies Mrs Greene's boyfriend, whose name, apparently, is Aaron.
She taps impatiently before remembering herself, wishing that the price of money didn't have to be a sappy love story. She is almost glad when her messagR beeps. The few strains of relief disappear as fast as they appeared when she comprehends what she sees before her eyes.
'She's dead', the screen reads, and there is no mistaking whom the messageR message refers to. Her sister, her only family, is now dead.
Her emotions change from shock to grief to anger. They were supposed to feed her and give her free medical services, which was the only reason she even agreed to doing this undercover assignment. She shakes her head. How could she have been so naïve? Of course they hadn't done all that. Why would they waste their precious time and resources on her? She drops down to the ground, sick to her stomach.
"Look, I can pretend to be human. It's no big deal!"
"Aaron, people will notice. Besides, you're- you're dead."
She gets to her feet immediately. Aaron is a ghost? Her first thought is to report it to the agency. Then she remembers all that has happened. Without thinking, she runs forward and clamps her mouth on Aaron's.
Mrs Greene- Gloria- shrieks, pale as a ghost, unable to speak.
"You just kissed- you can't do that. It's against the law. He's an emeir, a ghost. That's taking advantage of death! You'll- you're going to die.
"I know," I whisper.
Her screams fill my ears as I dissolve, fading into nothing.