It was just a joking statement. Something passing of the time. I meant nothing by it. Not really. But I guess whatever, or whoever, controls the universe has a funny, yet sick, sense of humour. I, personally, don't think it is all that funny. By why would I? The hand of Fate is the prankster, and I the victim of its merciless hand.
What did I say to provoke this joke, this twisted punch of karma? Well, firstly, I said it to no one in particular. And secondly, I hardly made a big fuss out of it.
I was injured. In an accident involving a table and a semi-violent encounter that turned from a joke into a limp and a glare; a glare that could not be satiated with simple words of apology, no matter how sincere. After it was determined that the limp was not lessening, and that it was a probability that the limp could mean something far worse, it came to my immediate attention, though rather shamefully, that if I were to be taken in to hospital and placed into a cast and a walking boot, then I could not possibly attend the upcoming dance, which the town had planned as a social event, and which I had been planning for rather obsessively for almost a month. With less than a week and a half to go, I could not possibly miss it.
My tomboyish attitude seemed to disappear with this realization, and while I stood around, testing the ankle and shin, I settled into a state of semi-aggressive thoughts and somewhat dark mutterings. Some of which, apparently, offended the ruling hand of fateful karma, and ended me in this eventful mess. All over a stupid dance. Though at the time, it was definitely worth the oath I swore, in my aggressively dark mood.
"I will go to this dance. No matter what. Even if it kills me."
Well, I suppose with such a contorted eye watching over my oaths and curses, I could not be expected to take them lightly. And by no means did I take them lightly. The thought vaguely flitted through my blackened mind, that my oath may be heard by a foreign divine being, but I brushed it aside, having never really believed in such 'divine beings'. Oh, what a horrid mistake. Had I known then what I know now, then maybe I would have kept my mouth shut and kept my gloomy opinions to myself. Though now is no time to be wasting away time with 'what ifs'.
The first attack happened when I was leaving the emergency room. Thankfully, no cast was needed, though I needed to take it easy. Well, that didn't happen. Honestly, I have no idea what came over me. This sordid being leaps out at me, snarling and hissing, and tries to take a chunk out of my arm. Well, the last thought that flitted through my head was I have to go to the dance. And the next thing I knew the filthy creature was dissipating before my very eyes, my hands still curled around its slimy throat, its eyes bulging as its life was choked from it.
I suppose I was a little shocked, because I said and did nothing. I just dropped my hands and continued walking. Oh, shock is a lovely thing sometimes. It clouds the mind and makes difficult things easier. I didn't know what the dirty thing was, but I knew it was not human. It looked like a little elf creature that had become rabid, violent and highly aggravated. Pointy ears that were floppy and made of a thin membrane, long, thin arms that ended in long fingered hands with sharp claws. No fur or hair, only that same thin membrane of skin. Tattered rags that bore some semblance to clothing clung to a deceptively fragile looking body. Spit flying from its snarling mouth. Yep, most definitely a rabid elf.
Shock wasn't the only thing playing with my mind, I guess, because there I was, walking calmly home after killing a rabid elf, and then thinking about it as 'a rabid elf' with absolutely no doubt in my mind that a rabid elf was indeed what it was. Maybe the doctor had slipped me something when I wasn't looking, maybe I was dreaming. But no, of course I couldn't be dreaming. I couldn't possibly be asleep in my bed, dreaming up this ridiculous charade filled with rabid elves and hospital visits. My imagination wasn't that good.
Maybe I was hysterical too, because I burst out laughing at my own train of thought, and then sobered up as another one of those ridiculous rabid elves leapt from an alleyway and bit me on the arm. Once again, my shockingly insane girly side thought only one thing; dance ... and once again, I came too with a rapidly disappearing rabid elf in my hands. I had been quite a bit more violent this time, and its blood seeped onto my hands. It was blue, I vaguely noticed, and smelt like that cheese that people always crinkle their noses at. Maybe he was a rabid elf made of cheese. Blue cheese. Blue, smelly cheese. But then again, maybe not. Maybe I was still dreaming.
This continued all the way home, and by the time I actually got to my house, I was getting quite irate. Maybe it was a disease, and I was the lone survivor, and all those rabid elves had simply been my neighbours, and I had been assigned the task of being the human to save the world, by killing them all. Assigned by whom though? My head hurt. I was too confused, crazy even. Maybe I was mad. Maybe I was getting the disease. There were too many maybes.
I poured myself a glass of water, and drank it, and then turned around to find pretty much an army of bigger rabid elves staring at me.
"Oh for the love of all that is holy!" I screamed at them all and then I blacked out again. They were all dead when I came to, their blue blood ruining my kitchen. I gasped; my favourite plates were all smashed; I liked those plates!! I gently ran a finger over the sharp edge and sniffed. The seemingly ever-present shock made me quite emotional to see these plates broken.
Why did I care about plates!? Something was happening. Something big. Something bad. Hey, maybe this was the apocalypse. Maybe I was just going crazy. Should I call someone? Should I turn myself in to the local asylum as a crazed killer? I answered my own question almost immediately; they wouldn't believe me. No one would. Rabid elves? Me killing them? Well, maybe they had heard crazier stories, possibly about just ordinary elves that attacked random people for the fun of it. I could understand why rabid elves would do it, but sane elves; that would just be crazy! Insane, unbelievable. Ridiculous, even. Whoever heard of ordinary elves that had killing sprees? Elves were nice. Only rabid ones would be so mean. Meanies. I didn't like rabid elves.
This crazed behaviour continued for almost three days, and I eventually lost count of the amount of times I encountered my rabid enemies. Or how many I killed. They just seemed to always appear. I came to grow accustomed to them, and I lost sleep. Rather, I gave it up. How could I sleep? Rabid elves were attacking me. Instead, I stayed up late, pondering my unluckiness. I was thinking pretty hard. For a long, long time. Then it hit me! It was a rock. It bounced off my head and I continued my thinking. I didn't really have any epiphanies. But I did fall asleep. And nothing happened, obviously, because I woke up the next morning.
That's when it hit me. This time, it was an epiphany. Sort of. I've never really had one, so I don't really know what they're like, but if an epiphany is like being hit in the head with a rock and suddenly realizing you're being punished by swearing an oath you couldn't keep, then yeah, I had an epiphany. If not, then I just had a random that made everything click into place like the giant jigsaw puzzle of my life finally coming together into one entire picture that made sense. Take your pick, but it was a pretty momentous moment.
Then I forgot what I was thinking about.
It took me pretty much the entire day to remember. Being punished. For swearing an oath. Then I remembered, and I ran out into my backyard, climbed the drainpipes, clambered onto the roof, and screamed to the heavens, "I take it back! I take back my oath!"
To my surprise, someone actually answered. Betty. My neighbour. She asked me if I was alright. I spoke to her for a moment, then she went back inside. When I turned back, there was a freaky looking old woman sitting next to me. She grinned as I yelped.
"Hello, oath-maker. So you wish to take back your oath?" I nodded vaguely. I was thinking about how her orange hair looked like a carrot. Then I started thinking about how carrots tasted yummy, and how bunnies ate them. Then I was thinking about bunnies, and by the time I tuned back in, my mind had gone far, far away, all the way to street signs. The woman was glaring at me, and I started, "Hmm? Oh sorry, what were you saying?"
She scowled, "Your thought patterns are ridiculous! Oath?? Or had you forgotten?" I jumped in the realization that she may just disappear and leave me with this rabid elf problem.
"Uh, yeah. Oath … hmm … oh yeah! I take back my oath about the dance! I don't want to go anymore. I won't go, and I don't want it to kill me! I take it back … can I take it back … please?"
The woman cackled, "Oh, of course I won't take it back! You made your oath, besides, there is only a day left to go!"
I gaped, "A day? But … but …"
She gave a wicked grin, "I slowed your time perception. I was going to make you miss the dance, but maybe I won't. Maybe I will let you go, after all. Decisions, decisions."
I almost hugged her. Then figured she'd probably be incorporeal. I grinned at her, relieved. She cackled, and began to fade, "But then again … you did kill my little minions. I'll have to make you pay for that one. Sorry, oath-maker."
Then she was gone. I scowled. And clenched my fists. My tomboy side was back. This time, I wouldn't go to the dance because I was secretly a girly girl who wanted to find a prince charming and live happily ever after. No, this time, I would go because I swore it. Because I stick to my promises.
Even if it kills me.
Okay, first attempt at some sort of Humour, hopefully it works out ... if not ... it was worth a shot :) I am kinda crazy tired at the moment and that makes me kinda insane ... Hope you enjoy :D
Please Review :) It would be much appreciated :)