Anonymous

Part IV - The Poetic Philosopher

Vanessa wasn't quite sure about what to do with this anonymous text; she didn't even know who the person was, and the only clue she had by far was the William Shakespeare cover picture; there weren't any posts on the person's profile either.
His username was Bibliophile, and he didn't have any specific biodata.
Bibliophile didn't have many friends, and the only ones he did were apparently pretty . . .boring. However the most curious thing was that he (or she) was already Nessa's friend; not that she ever recalled anything significant about this person. She didn't even know he was, even after checking out this anonymous guy's entire profile.
So, Nessa decided to clear out her first doubt with her badass reply:
Who da hell r u ?!
The answer wasn't immediate, but it arrived before Vanessa could throw herself on her bed and actually go to sleep.
A broken-hearted dream-chaser. And, of course, an understander of poetry.
Well, it was indeed a strange way to answer the question; but Bibliophile's language itself sounded so poetic - so sophisticated, it was as if he could never write in the ultra modern slang English that teenagers used in their texts these days.
Well, if ur some photocopy of Shakespeare or Charlotte Brontë, then I hate you already! U ruined my school days.

Ha! That simply says you're no admirer of literature.

Yeah, all that medieval shit is boring and insanely difficult to learn.

You might say this today, but you'll learn as you grow older to the world that often the hard language doesn't limit our understanding. Often the inner meaning - the depths of the poem - come to us through more than just reading and understanding poetry. The poet's emotions get into us when we have been through the same emotions before.
Vanessa didn't understand what this guy meant by his last sentence; she could only understand medieval poems when the teacher explained them in the class.
At any case, Nessa's biggest fear was now eliminated; this anonymous person wasn't someone who knew her - wasn't someone from Wiscott's Academy. Apparently from the wisdom in his/her words and the way he was obsessed with poetry and literature - like some expert arts and literature scholar - it sounded as if he was far from her age.
She texted back:
I didn't get that.

Okay. Have you ever been dependent on one person without whom you realise you will have a hard time going ahead in life?

Yea? Maybe. Nessa replied vaguely.

Here, read this poem and tell me what you make out of it, despite the so-said 'difficult language'.
A pair o' snakes hissed over the
Southern wilds of berry creepers
Swam ashore to the sand kissed banks
To the land of sorghum reapers
Till at last by the edge of
The moonlit fortress towers
The younger serpent choked itself
On the dew of blood-red flowers
And reeking of sorrow, took ahead
The other half of one soul
But in the end couldn't continue
For not always one is its whole.
As far as Nessa got it, there were 2 snakes who hissed over wild creepers (as in vines) of berries, swam across some river to the sandy banks and arrived in the place where people harvested sorghum. And then finally by the edge of the fortress towers, one of them choked on the dew of a flower and died, so now the other one had to continue its journey further ahead on its own.
However, the remaining half of one soul (because both the snakes had known to have shared 1 soul) couldn't continue (perhaps died in the end), because it's other half wasn't there anymore. And therefore it couldn't be a whole.
And that was when Vanessa knew exactly what had been meant through the sentences that Bibliophile had said some time back.
Often the inner meaning - the depths of the poem - come to us through more than just reading and understanding poetry. The poet's emotions get into us when we have been through the same emotions before.
The two snakes had been Nessa and Natalie - both who had explored and seen many good things in life together - crossed many an obstacles with each other's support. However when one snake (Natalie Verona) had died, now the other one was unable to go on by herself.
The poet's emotions get into us when we have been through the same emotions before.

Nessa practically threw her fifty-pound backpack at an innocent girl who was coincidentally walking in the corridor at the moment. She was totally pissed, when she discovered that very miraculously Titania Cross had inked all the pages of the chapter in history that was coming for the test day after tomorrow.
And by 'inked', Nessa meant 'splattered some horrible blotting black ink all across the pages so that nothing was visible'.
She practically walked to her next class - physics - growling like a polar bear. Unfortunately she was late for the class too (due to her very unsuccessful efforts of trying to scrub/wash out the ink from her pages, but instead ruining her history book all the more), and ended up sitting with the only person who had an empty seat next to him - and someone Nessa totally felt like smacking in the head at the moment.
Edmund Caliber, Titania's boyfriend!
She slumped onto her chair, almost startling Edmund off his skin. He looked at her funny for a moment, but then Nessa glared back, and her partner stared at his own book.
The physics teacher started talking, without realising that one of the students was emitting bull-fumes from her nostrils in anger, and that her partner looked like he wanted to hide under his own skin.
"Hell. Something must've gone really wrong to piss you off this way." Edmund muttered after some time.
Nessa glared at him icicles again, so he would look over the other side, and then hissed "That bitch of yours! Make sure you warn her to lay her hands off my devices, or else I'll decapitate her and hang her skull at my door as a spoil of the World War 3."
Edmund chuckled lightly despite everything, and said "No offences, but despite how intimidating or gutsy you might be, in the end Titania and her friends always win the game."
"Well, if it's a game, then I'll show the slut how it is played!" Vanessa practically spat out the words, and then concernedly looked around the class to see if she had been too loud.
"What did she do anyway?" Edmund asked tiredly.
Nessa felt stupid immediately after she had pulled out her history textbook and had thwacked it open on the table, revealing the ink-kissed pages. But Edmund Caliber surprisingly looked . . .well, serious, she supposed.
"Okay, maybe my girlfriend has gone a little too far. You know she doesn't really like it when people outshine her."
"I outshine her?" Nessa questioned septically. "I probably have the darkest aura in this school. That girl is simply being absurd."
"Well, Titania just wishes to be on the top of the social pyramid; anyone who tries to mess with her or get to the top instead . . .she's not very kind to those. I suggest you keep a low profile and stay away from her." Edmund Caliber sounded so genuine - and serious, it was like he was advising Nessa about his psychiatrically-unsafe patient and not his bitchy girlfriend.
Stay away from her. If she stayed away from Titania (No. 1, it was like asking the impossible of her), and No. 2, Titania would come and annoy the heck of her anyway.
So Nessa believed that the only way to deal with the times when Titania Cross pissed her off, was to piss Titania even more. And with her heart beating like an angry bull's, there in the middle of a physics class, Vanessa Orville sought her vengeance.
"It's not just the inked pages of my history book. She's taken my journal as well."