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- I don't expect you to comprehend my bad and messed up writing. -
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Sunday, January 22, 2006
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she looked up into her face. smooth as water, long and serene, with bright blue eyes glaring out at her.
"Why? Why do you want me? What can I do for you? I have no powers. I have no strengths. I have nothing."
You lie!" she said very softly. She closed her eyes. "You have a power that no other human being posesses."
Marcona snorted. "Right. and what might that power be?"
There was a little pause. Marcona heard the water gurgling slowly through the winding stone-banked river that wound through the back of tusila's haven. It was a slow, smooth, meditative sound. calming. relaxing. soothing.
Tusila opened her eyes very slowly and tightened her grip upon her gold mace.
"The power to help me" she whispered finally, a soft, caressing tone in her silky voice. She took three long strides towards Marcona, her blue robes billowing out behind her, rippling like the ocean waves. "Marcona, do you never wonder how I have always known your name? Before the day we first met, I knew of your name. In fact, I knew everything about you. Do you never wonder?"
The slow gurgling of the river that filled her brain became softer, temporarily.
"Everything about me? Sorry, but I don't find that very credible. As for my name, well, it takes no magician to shove it out of me. I told it to you the first time I met you, I remember." Marcona laughed scornfully.
"Do not lie, girl!" Tusila shreiked. Then in a softer voice, she said, "Ah. But I recognize that defiance. That scornful voice. That spite. Yes, yes. I know those qualities as well as I know myself." Her thin lips curled into a sneer. "Watch."
She raised her golden mace in the air, and with a graceful twitch , slammed the mace onto the ground. the room was immediately filled with a blinding blue light, which was amplified as it reflected off of the river and blue gems that encrusted every wall of the chamber. from the tip of Tusila's maize erupted a silvery figure. A small, blond girl with fiery blue eyes and a defiant stance hovered above the maize.It was Marcona, two years back. Another silvery figure erupted from the tip of the mace - a short, bony, woman in a black skirt suit. She was pale and tired looking, with listless yellow hair pulled into a bun, and thin, lined lips smothered in bright red lipstick. She wore wire rimmed ovular glasses, and a small golden pin attached to her collar that said: VICE PRINCIPLE
Linda Hanglen
"Marcona, what were you -
"I swear I didn't do it!" Marcona had cried, little sparks of fury flying from each little hair end.
"Marcona don't even..." the vice principal grumbled. "This is the last time. It has happened time and again, and this time" the woman attempted to pull her face into an ' I'm sorry but it's going to have to be this way' look, failed, and resorted to looking at Marcona with forlorn yet menacing pleasure through her small black eyes. "and this time, I'm going to have to take action." She slowly advanced on Marcona.
Step by step, her eyes bulging slightly.
Step by step, until she could see the tiny beads of moisture atop Linda Hanglen's thin upper lip. And step by step her anger grew.
It burned. It boiled. It frothed and steamed and raged. Little rivulets of steam drifted up to her eyes, and turned them black-bluE, and with rage she eyed the evil, ugly old hag before her. Anger frothed and flowed through her shoulders, up her arms, to her hands, and the woman's bony throat, by the force of the angry heat, flew straight into Marcona's burning hands, but then, the throat had vanished.
Her angry waves crashed back into her soul, knocking her neatly off her little feet onto the hard stone floor.....stone? the office floor was that awful froot loopy-ish carpet, not stone.....Marcona glanced into Hanglen's beady black eyes in surprise only to find....
that they had turned blue. bright blue. fiery blue. oddly familiar blue.
"Who are you?"
A pause. Water gurgling. Slow, smooth, soothing, relaxing, calming...
"Dear, dear Marcona. It has been long. So long. Too long."
and she flicked the mace, diminishing all hovering pictures, as Marcona looked up at her. In utter bewilderment, still. So you knew my name. Oh joy, you're a stalker too.
Look at me, my child, do you not see?
We are one and the same
We share heart
We share Soul
We share all but name.
Look at me child, do not you see?
I am you
Your past
I am you
Your present
I am you
Your future.
And you are me.
Look at me, child, do you not see?
I share passage to your soul
Your mind, and your heart
I share passage to your every part.
Look at me child, do you not see?
Do you not see now
How you are my key?
The key to my past
The key to my mind
The key to my life
Just waiting to unwind
Look at me, child, do you not see?
You show me the way
I can fall and not pray.
I learn from your mistakes and not my own.
For you are none other than my clone.
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3 Comments:
wow, this is good!
um ruthie you helped start me thinking about this with all the cloning talk, and then my brain just started creating this scene, so i wrote it down.
oh. so I'm the inspiration for this?? wow... hey for once in my life I don't feel so...unimportant....
go to my blog for further details.
I do believe I am insignificant, unimportant, and abandoned.
and it really makes you feel like shit.
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