04: Confused Soul

101 7 1
                                    

So, I'm sitting in a chair that I (out of my conscious will) made appear, because I don't want to stain the beautiful silk dress with the mud. The least of my problems, I know. Adrian, still in his ghostly form, sits across from me, his stare empty. The suitcase sits at my feet, sunken into the mud. It's a small trunk, adorned with black leather, bronze clasps, and a wooden handle engraved with swirly designs in great detail. How my subconscious creates such beautiful patterns is a mystery.

I don't really know what I'm doing, sitting here. I feel like I'm back on the bench with no purpose, no goal. I need one. With Adrian staring right at me, I'm reminded again of the fact that inaction is never the right course to take.

I remember when selecting a course to take meant filling out a blue form that would decide my classes for the next year. Adrian and I always did ours alongside each other, careful to choose the exact same schedule. We chose hilarious classes that didn't really match our taste, such as Floral Design 1, Ballroom Dancing, and Concepts of Technology and Engineering (otherwise known as Woodshop). I remember taking the paper home for my parents to sign...

No, I don't.

I don't remember my parents, at all. The mention of the word brings up fuzzy memories in my mind, but I can't piece them together. In fact, I don't remember much of anything. School is a fast blur; my only recollections are with Adrian. Actually, all of my memories are with Adrian. There are some side-characters, such as teachers, but I don't even remember their names or what they look like.

"Ah, Cleo. Such a confused soul. I pity you." It is Jax's voice, ringing loud and clear.

Wait, how does he know what I am thinking? How did I miss this before? Actually, he did mention that he controlled me for a small period of time, but I have no idea what that mus mean. I guess now that I have a name for the man, I'm starting to see him more like me.

"I won't take your pity." Even though I whisper them, my words echo around me, shrouding myself in a cloak of denial. Jax doesn't respond, and I'm kind of glad. I don't want to deal with him right now.

I weave my fingers through my hair. It's thick, knotted, and overall unmanageable. Maybe that'll be the style for this new universe. Messy hair. I'll have to set bigger trends than hairstyles, I think solemnly to myself.

That fact is still shocking. I don't have parents, teachers, pets, anything or anyone, except for Adrian. And he isn't even here. Maybe the first thing I should try to do is to bring him back, but I wouldn't know where to start.

I decide to get up and explore some more, despite the fact that there really isn't anything to see. When I pick up the suitcase, it feels weightless. Nevertheless, I get the idea to turn it into something more portable.

One.

Two.

Three.

It transforms into a cross-body bag, and I sling it on. When I peek inside, I see the same thing as I did before on a smaller scale. The train tracks, Adrian and I, the ever-present mud.

Epic.

I begin to walk around the tracks again with Adrian following in suit. I look back every so often, only to see his ghostly face staring past me without expression. The soles of my feet are covered in mud. The stickiness is quite uncomfortable, but I don't pay it much attention.

Suddenly, I am scared. Scared beyond reason. Scared that someone is following me, that someone is chasing me. Scared that someone has an insight to what I'll do next. I'm afraid to look over my shoulder.

I am reminded of the ancient Greek myth about Orpheus and Eurydice that Adrian and I read together. Orpheus, a talented musician, falls in love with a woodland nymph Eurydice, and they quickly marry. Orpheus warns Eurydice to stay away from the forest, as it is dangerous, but she can't help but be constantly drawn to it.

One day, while Orpheus is distracted with his flute, she sneaks off into the woods. In the forest she meets a satyr who frightens her. Remembering Orpheus' warning, she runs away from him, but she accidently steps on a poisonous snake who bites and kills her. Orpheus is overcome with grief. He decides to go into the underworld to bargain with Hades, the god of the dead, to bring his wife back.

When he finally meets Hades, he tries to charm him with his beautiful music. But the old god isn't fooled. He doesn't give in. But his wife, Persephone, is drawn by the beautiful melody and convinces Hades to barter with Orpheus.

Orpheus is allowed to have his wife back, but there is a catch. He must walk all the way back to the exit of the underworld with Eurydice following behind, but he can not turn to look at her. If he does, she will disappear. Orpheus agrees, but on the way back, he grows more and more anxious. Eventually, he can't take it anymore. After calling her name several times with her not responding, he turns around, and she vanishes.

I feel like Orpheus. Hopeless, lost, confused. Wanting to look behind me and yet so afraid to at the same time. After thinking of the myth-that is all a figment of my imagination, apparently-I can't help but turn around. I regret it more than Orpheus ever will.

Adrian has not disappeared. As soon as I turn, he morphs into a vicious creature that is beyond my control. He is still in a ghost-like form, but he has grown to a massive height. A look of evil is plastered on his face instead of an impassive one. He hovers above the ground, and air swirls all around him like he's in the center of a tornado. The train tracks start peeling off the ground as if they are pieces of sellotape that have lost their stickiness. Wind is picking up around me and my hair is flying in all different directions.

"Run." Jax voice fills the air around me.

I listen. Picking up my long dress, I sprint as fast as I can. I'm tripping over my own feet, my heart racing from exertion and panic. I can feel it hammer against my chest, practically ripping through my skin. Adrian continues to chase me. The dress is too thick and flowing to run in, so I tear the shimmery fabric at my knees, leaving a jagged pattern along the hem. I throw the remaining fabric at Adrian, and it's sucked in by the whirlwind of air. I will never see it again.

Debris is still flying relentlessly. I duck as I wooden board flies at my head from the train tracks. A bit of the nail still scratched my temple, and I felt blood trickle down the side of my face. I try to pick up speed, but I have to look back every so often to gauge the distance between Adrian and I, which slows me down some. Every time I look behind me, my stomach jumps into my throat. Adrian is a monster. Like the ones that hide under your bed or in your closet. The kind of monster that taps into your most trivial fears and exploits them. The kind of monster that knows just where to hit you. The kind of monster that eats away your heart by tricking your mind.

My legs are becoming sore. They weigh me down like led. I don't know how much longer I can run before I'm caught. I trip over my own feet, tumbling to the ground. I tuck in my legs and roll like a bowling ball for a few feet. Adrian lunges at me, his hand like claws and his motives like a devil's. I flip over to a back-bend position without thinking, and he misses me by an inch. I scramble to me feet, trying to advance farther and farther away. I ignore the pain searing in my legs and focus on the fear that clouds my brain, hoping that it will propel me forward.

How can this happen? Why does this happen? Who else has ran from their own subconscious? Their own mind? Maybe the creator of Frankenstein did. I would not know. I don't remember reading the book. Oh, that's right. I don't remember much of anything. Actually, the fact that I remember the name of the book itself is shocking. The purse that I created from the suitcase bangs against my side. I keep running, short of breath.

An idea hits me. I could use my powers to my advantage here. I speed up as I try to think of something, anything. I could just make him disappear. That would solve my problems. But then I'll be all alone, I think to myself. But my inner voice reasons with me. If you don't send him away, you'll be dead. I still feel guilty when I begin the process.

One.

Two.

Three.

I turn around. The wind stops flying, the panic in the air is gone. And so is Adrian. Am I relieved? Not really. I miss him, sadly. Now I'm by myself, with my only companion being the ever-so-indescribable Jax.

How ironic it is that I'm lonesome in my own universe.

Adrian (The Write Awards 2013)Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora