Adrienne den 26. Marz

English 9-1

The obnoxious blaring of high school trumpets blatantly echoed by screaming men and women of all ages waving a myriad of brightly coloured banners in the air entirely drowned out any and all other forms of sound as the parade slowly made its way down the city street. Its usually deserted pathways, the typical sojourn for dirty old men and their paper sack beds, were now packed to burst with wild fans, and it seemed that soon the very asphalt itself would give under the immense pressure of stamping feet and rolling wheels of floats.

Amidst the bleach-blonde women and red-white-and-blue spirit shirts, a young teen struggled hopelessly through the living, swelling mass in a futile attempt to escape the deafening noise. Word had spread to his ears about this fanfare, but never in his life had he expected it to be as garish as it was now. In a sudden burst, he forcefully shoved his way through the last layer of people, many of whom were unexplainably acting in a near animalistic craze. So focused was he on escaping, that he paid no heed to his surroundings, the noise completely enveloping him.

A throbbing pain instantly jarred him back to reality, and the ebony-haired boy found himself flat back on a (temporarily) empty space in the sidewalk. Above him hovered two girls, their straw-coloured waves of hair seeming almost like halos in his dazed state.

They helped him up, one of the girls asking him a question, but he didn’t hear her- not over the persistent ringing in his head. He noticed dully that one of them was carrying a tall, metal pole, attached to it a large sign shouting out her adoration for the parade and its patriotic mumbo-jumbo. Stumbling away (and waving off a few more offers of help from those who were still sober enough to remain in reality), he made his way to a small café, a place he hoped beyond hope would give him some relief from the surrounding ruckus.

As the gentle ring of the doorbell faded, sufficiently notifying the various workers of his presence, he sank into a red leather padded chair. Even through the washed glass windows, the noise prevailed! At least it was a sufficient barrier to muffle the sound, and his head was quickly clearing now that it had been given reprieve from the clamour outside. So wrapped up in his silent rejoicing of peace was he, that he failed to notice a few of the waitresses staring at him.

His hair, dark and matted with sweat from the searing heat of the unrelenting sun, hung down an inch or two below his slim shoulders. The girls were a bit surprised at how thin and drained he looked, but decided not to ask. "May I take your order?" The youngest of the three spoke in a kind voice, but it was the sort that dripped of fake joy and bliss, a voice that would beguile those not observant enough into believing the world was perfect and nothing more needed saying than a simple request for food.

He peered up from behind choppy bangs, forest green eyes flickering briefly in recognition. His mouth fell open on loose hinges, and all traces of his once agile wit left him.

The young girl’s smile faded slightly. He was… familiar.

"Dania?!" His voice was choked, the sudden whirring and buzzing of his brain halting all thought as he realized now the sheer impossibility of this encounter, and his eyes became once again cautious and guarded.

Her grin returned, and with a vengeance, as she let loose a small squeak of disbelieving wonder before pouncing on the boy before her. "Peter! Oh, I thought I’d never see you… ever!"

Tentatively, Peter returned the embrace, his eyes taking on a near effeminate quality as the corners of his lips turned up. "But, how? How can this be? You died… I saw the car…" He fought the urge to simply pass out as his frantic ramblings wilted into denial.

Bright, cerulean eyes dimmed, as memories of a dismal past shadowed them. "I almost did, but… someone saved me. He got me back on my feet, lil’ bro’. I’ll never be able to thank him enough…"

Flashback

Red. Light. Noise. Black.

Black…

Why couldn’t she see? Her senses had left her, deserting her in the emptiness of the endless void that now encompassed her world. She could not feel, nor see, nor smell, nor hear. Calming her thoughts, she slipped slowly farther into dark oblivion.

Pain. Pain! Pain!

White-hot fire raged through Dania’s body as a sense of awareness snuck upon her. Nothing could compare to such agony as this. A million knives, twisted and burning, scalded her flesh and left her nothing more than blood and bones. Oh, how it hurt!

Grey clouds quickly clearing from her vision, Dania peered about through half-closed lids, at her surroundings, taking in all that she could in hopes of deviating all thoughts from the torture of her body. Gradually, she realized a growing pricking sensation was spreading throughout her as other body parts woke to the world around them.

She lay in a small room, wooden paneled walls decorated with only a few black and white photos and a small buck head, its antlers comically disproportionate to the rest. As the rest of her senses returned, she became aware of a heavy, musty odour, the sort of which you always seem to find in old, abandoned homes. The only furniture was a small desk and a bed- upon which she was laying.

In a single, horrifying rush, she realized the whole reality of the calamity, and, unashamed, she wept, knowing that no one was here and no one would ever find her.

All these thoughts, however, were banished with the small, almost inaudible click of a door. She had to resist the urge to leap up and shout, for that would certainly only cause more agony in her body already riddled with it.

As the shuffle of boots, muffled from behind another wall, neared her, she held her breath and closed her eyes, her body involuntarily stiffening in apprehension. After a few minutes, she felt rough, calloused hands peel back the covering of her legs, exposing them to the sharp air of the outside. She sucked in her breath at the shock, but all this did was inform her "carer" of her consciousness.

"Aa, so yer awake? It’s been a while since yeh last seen sky, eh? But don’t you a’worry. Ah’ve been takin’ a’good care o’ you."

A large mug, filled to the brim with a warm liquid, was pressed up against her mouth, and Dania readily gulped down the offering – as bitter-tasting as it was - forgetting for a brief moment that she was not supposed to trust strangers and, in fact, should abhor them to the very core until she was sure of their intent. Still, these feelings did not appertain to her sudden, and quite forceful, dehydration. The need for water was so overpowering, that all other thoughts were shunned, and she focused soley on the life-giving warmth of the man’s offering.

"Yeh sleep now. If yeh want anythin’, just call. Ah’ll be ‘round nearby."

Opening her eyes, she caught her first glimpse of her supposed rescuer. His skin was rough and weatherworn, a gray, wispy beard drooping down past his chin. A large leather hat sat lopsided upon his head, and gray eyes shone with kindness. He wore a simple brown shirt marred with grass stains and the various wears and tears of natural living. Her line of sight failed her when she tried to see more, but suddenly that did not matter. His kind eyes were soon lulling her back into a deep sleep, but this time devoid of the pain of the waking world.

The weeks after blew by as quickly as the leaves of trees in autumn fall. Slowly, but steadily, she gained strength and had soon befriended the small man. Monte, for that was his name, kept her busy when her injuries prevented her from movement. He taught her about nature and the purity of life. He taught her to appreciate what had been given, and she realized just how lucky she was. A month had passed, and she had nearly forgotten all of her past life, her time with Monte so all-consuming.

However, after a month, thoughts of home stole her mind, slowly invading her mind, and she felt a twinge of longing pulling at her soul. It had been a year, now, and the want for home was almost unbearable. Monte was not blind of this, and simply nodded, his eyes sad.

"Ah’ve kept yeh from home far too long, haven’t Ah?"

Dania could only stare at the floor, a blush quickly painting her face a burning pink. How could she answer a question such as that?

However, she had no need to answer, for Monte did for himself. "Yes, Ah believe I did. Ah bet yeh would love to go back now." He smiled, a mellow tone stealing his normally bright cheer. She was suddenly aware of wrinkles around his eyes that had never been there before. "It is time fer yeh to go."

"Well… yes." She could not lie. The fierce longing would not allow her.

They had hugged, each clasping the other in a grip that spoke volumes, more so than what words could ever do, and stood underneath the sun for hours. He had given her a gift, a small stone that his own daughter had once treasured. She accepted it with much regret and awe, and had felt it necessary to respond with her own gift of parting.

However, she had nothing to give, and nearly burst into tears on the spot.

"Now, now. Don’t yeh worry ‘bout me. There’s no need ta give me anythin’, n’ don’t yeh be thinkin’ yeh have to." He smiled and laughed, filling Dania with a feeling of such belonging that she could not help but smile in return.

From there, he led her back to the city, and they bid each other a bittersweet farewell.

End Flashback

"I got a job, after that… I guess I just stopped wanting to live, but now… Oh Peter! I can’t believe you’re here. I thought- no, I knew- that everyone had given up on me, had taken me for dead."

"But you’re alive!" Peter’s face was shinning, and he began to wonder if the two blondes he had run into really were angels- leading him to his sister. "I lost it, too, just to know. I kind of closed myself off from everything and everyone- it seemed I could find the bad in everything."

There was a silence then, but not thick- simply comfortable and peaceful, full of memories and revelations.

Dania laughed once again, a bright joyous sound that left Peter remembering the horns of the parade- how beautiful they now sounded! To think that only her laugh could change him like this.

They walked out together, hand in hand, and listened to the clear ringing of silver trumpets as it faded away into the distance.