The Day

For those you don't believe,
In anything Unbelievable,

Prologue
I am unimportant, which is reason enough to be intrigued. My name is Hero (that's not even short for anything.). I'm just about eighteen. I grew up in a small community. I've accomplished nothing of interest. Other than my tendency to have fun over stupid things, like sleep depravation and make up my own words, I'm pretty normal.

"Hero, if you miss the bus, I'm not driving you! Get up now!" that would be my mother yelling.

"I'm up, I'm up!"

My mom, wouldn't leave me at home if I missed the bus, she'd drive me, but then I'd have to sit next to hear a listen to her scold me for staying up late to watch a dvd. It was really good though! I wanted to finish it.

Oh well. I might as well get up. I have to leave in twenty minutes. What shall I wear? My striped jeans and my yellow sweater, I think that would work. That'd look fine, but I don't want to look in the mirror and see. I can't stand my mirror! I hate looking at it. I mean I'm not ugly, just fat. Usually I can handle that. But there are days when I want to cry. My Dad doesn't get it. He actually has the talent to make a person feel fatter as evident when he tries to encourage you to loose weight, I better give an example, "Hero my girl, I don't believe you don't even care about this," or "You have no will power," and my personal favourite "You're twice the size that I was when I was your age" Sigh. If I can live with who and what I am, why can't he accept that?

At the Prefect world I don't have this problem.

Where's the prefect world? I shouldn't have brought that up. I don't know if people could stand it. It's hidden; it's hidden so well that I couldn't see it for my whole life, till recently. I found it in an hour of self-denial; funny how you find the important things at a time you can't handle them. I was fighting for who I was, who I could remain to be. That comes later. I think I can tell you the path, but promise not to tell a word of this to a soul.

Chapter One The Path

That hour when I was just with myself, I noticed across from me was this grain of light on the floor. It was smaller than a single grain of rice. I went over to pick it up and as I touched it, I felt intense pain. It burned my hand, right through. I mean it burned a hole through my hand. But after it burned the hole it didn't hurt so badly. It was okay. I was shocked. What was that grain? Where was the grain? It vanished, and I never saw it again. So here I was alone with a hole in my hand the shape of a prefect sphere. I was so freaked I started to shake, (as if you wouldn't). I blacked out, and when I wake up, that's when I found the path.

Instead of being in my house I was outside, there was no one around me; I was in a field all alone, by myself. The field was filled with flowers, but it wasn't pretty, quite the opposite actually, the flowers were black, and red, all of them, except for one, way in the distance I could see it there, it was gorgeous. It was a creamy yellow. Amidst all the black and red it was like a beacon. I ran to it and I sat down right beside it. I went to pluck it, but it told me not too. Well I figured that this was a dream so I went to pluck it again. The moment I plucked it all the ugly flowers turned uglier. I looked down at the yellow flower it had turned to ashes. The sphere in my hand was searing in pain. I screamed, I screamed so loud that all the flowers around me turned to ash.

The field turned to ash, the ground turned to ash! I was falling into the ash; I was sinking into the ash. I gave up. I just let myself sink into the ash. I took a final look at the sky. It had turned a brown orange, and the clouds looked like steel. I close it all out, and I close my eyes. I feel the ash slowly envelope around me, and I sink more and more. I know somehow that this not a dream, but a reality more than I have ever known. I feel so much regret as I continue to sink.

I open my eyes not to ash but to water, I'm in water! I'm drowning. I swim up to the surface. I break through I breath in the air. I swim towards a piece of driftwood, and grab on. I look around me; there is nothing but water all around me on every side. I focus my attention on the wood; there is a bug on it, a butterfly.

"Hello. How did you get out here little bug?" I ask it,

"I got here the same way you did through the ashes to this wasteland of water." The bug answered back.

Somehow I knew that the bug would answer me back, so it didn't bother me.

"Oh . . . How do we leave this place? I don't even know why I'm here, do you know why I'm here?" I ask pleadingly

"You know why you are here. You just don't know it yet. I am the greeter to the Prefect World. You still have a long way to tread, but you are closer then you think. You must stay here until you are called, do not leave the water. You will know when you are called. You mustn't leave, or else you will be lost to the unreality forever. Wait, be patient!" The bug says as it flies away.

I am left alone again. For hours I am left alone. The water chills, and soon I can't feel my legs, I look to my right and there is land there. I swim towards it. Soon I am crawling and not swimming. The soft sand bends to me as I fall onto the beach. Exhausted I turn over and look at the water wasteland. I only get a glimpse of it as it recedes into the distance. I can't see it. It's gone! This is not a beach it's a desert. The water is gone. I had left the water. I was lost, and alone.

Chapter Two The Unreality

I wept. Why did I bother to weep? I had nothing now, not even hope. I got up and looked at these strange new surroundings, the ground was crimson and the sky yellow, no blue or green anywhere. I get up walk aimlessly in the direction where I last saw the water. It's eerie, because, there are no sounds, at all. Absolute silence, not even my own thoughts, or breath penetrate the silence.

At last I hear a sound it is a harp. The most beautiful sound I have ever heard. I walk in a trance towards the sound. Finally after what must have been hours I see it. No one is there though. It was playing on its own, but there are skeletons on every side of it. I look at the harp; it seems to be calling me, like a mother calling for her child. I take no heed of the skeletons and I walk towards it. I unconscientiously let my hands play the harp, and the tune changes, even more beautiful than before. The sphere in my hand widens and soon it there is only a faint outline of the palm of my hand and my fingers. I get nervous for a moment or two, and then I think again I must be asleep because this can't be real, until my hand disappears completely and my forearm starts to disappear as well.

I finally take notice of the skeletons, but they are no longer just bones. They begin to regain their flesh from the inside out as I fade into non-existence. The Muscles of one of the skeleton form around his mouth and it speaks to me.

"Finally. I have been waiting 400 years for someone to come. Someone with no patience and lacks self control I believe that someone is you." he laughs manically.

Another of the skeletons is now able to speak and as my entire arm and shoulder is gone.

"Foolish girl. Stop playing the harp and leave this place..." she is cut off as another skeleton rips off her jawbone.

I don't want to stop playing though. The song is so beautiful and it feels so good to just dissolve away not care about anything, just drift quietly away. Then the skeleton that warned me comes up and kicks me in the leg. The pain is horrible and I stop playing. Immediately the skeletons collapse and become white bones again and my dissolving body returns to its old form, except for my hand, which still bares the hole in my palm. I turn to the Harp and it has turned into a horrible vacuum, which starts to pull me in. I run away as hard as I can until I have no energy left and I fall into a heap, not on gritty desert sand but on nothing and I close my eyes.

Chapter Three Where the Stars are Formed

I wait until my breath regulates and slows down before I venture to open my eyes. I slowly lift open my heavy eyelids to see this new environment I have fallen into. Space. Every childhood dream of drifting in space among the planets and stars seems to have come true. This must be the Perfect World, the place the butterfly referred too. Only I don't feel like I have been called to this place like the butterfly said I would be. I feel like my being here is an accident. Some joke the cosmos is playing on me. To bring me to this peace and not have it be the perfect world.

I float quickly further into space than any man has ever seen or thought to look until I come to a place where I see distant stars up close. They are not the gaseous masses we are taught about in school. They are people robed in clothes of pure light. I am in awe of them. I am caught off guard when a star speaks.

"Are you here to name me?" a new star asks.

"I don't know. I'm not sure why I am here. Is the Perfect World?" I timidly ponder aloud.

"No. This is not that place. Most go through the water wasteland to get there. No one has come this way before, though it is possible. Would you name me though."? The star says contentedly.

"Why don't you name yourself? What name would you choose?" I enquire.

"I would never name myself!" The star says in an offended way "It is not a star's right to name themselves. Travellers must name us. And we have so few that come this far".

I think silently for a few moments. I have never thought of the names of stars before... It has to be something majestic and grand that inspires poems and songs.

"I name you Vox, since you spoke to me. Vox is Latin for voice." I simply say.

"Traveller you named me well. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Now I will use my voice to give you some wisdom. You deny who you really are because you are afraid of what awaits someone like you. A person who believes that magic happens in real life. Even if that magic is the perfect song that matches your mood. You feel the constant fight to be who the world expects you to be. But please be the Hero of your life. For I was the one who whispered in your mother's ear when she bore you "Name her Hero. For she shall be a woman who is the Hero of her own life." though your mother will never remember this that is how you were named. Now all that I can say to you is that to reach the Perfect World you have to go back from where you came. Go through this door." Vox spoke softly "And remember, those who name stars can see anything."

I look towards the wooden door. Floating in space just ahead of me. I walk towards it and open it up to a beautifully warm sunny room. My room.

Chapter Four The Perfect World

I look around and I think about what Vox said. I have named a star. I can see anything. I rush to the window and I see a butterfly come to my open window and it lands on the windowsill.

"No one has gotten here on the path you tread. I never thought I would see you here Hero. I am glad to have been surprised. Now remember, everyone must find the perfect world on their own. If you think they can handle this, tell them your tale. Only not many people will want to hear that the Perfect World is the one we live in." The Butterfly trills off.

"But Butterfly, I will tell them, and make them see the magic here. Even if I have to pull them from this dark and dreary life and then throw them onto the path. The Darkness that fights over us cannot win. I will be what I have been named, a Hero. If it's only for one person that I fight. Then I have won a battle." I spit out.

The Butterfly looks at me disbelievingly and flies off. I slam down the window and look around my room. What does it matter if I scream this tale to everyone? No one will ever believe an 18 year old. Suddenly my hand flares up in pain and I look down at it. The hole in my palm is still here. I rush downstairs to where my mom was cooking in the kitchen.

"Look at my hand!" I yell.

"Yes, you have 4 fingers and one thumb." my mom jokes at me as she looks down at my hand.

"Can't you see the hole?" I ask madly.

"Hole? No dear there is nothing there. Could you run and get some sage from the garden?" she asks while looking quizzically at me.

I walk in the backyard, vaguely amused by the sparkling trail of a bird in flight. Why couldn't she see it? Its clearly here. I look down at my hand again and the hole widens and I can see Vox where my flesh should have been. The star winks at me while pointing towards a large black cloud that rushes at me. I know I have to fight before that cloud overtakes us all.

The End