Devoured Destiny (Completed, but being rewritten and edited.)

Thought Nineteen. - Humanity in a Nutshell. (Ariels Perspective)

I wake up before anyone else does, at least that's what I assume. The cave is silent and dark. 

I look under the duvet covers at the silk nightgown I am wearing. Sibbul must have dried and clothed me while I was unconscious. I feel a little stiff and my skin is tender where Jones has left bruises.  

Pulling the covers back up to my chin, I close my eyes and try to remember my somewhat normal human life, before all of this. 

As a human I was just an eighteen year old highshool drop-out, with a mother who only bothered to call  my cell phone to 'check up' on me once every other month. 

Mother was always strange, and she always had to do her own thing... but I guess I kind of take after her in that sense. 

I would rarely stay in one town for any longer then four weeks, and if I did stay longer - it meant that there was a good reason. 

I was a starving artist. 

Staying in a cheap, crappy apartment in Toronto at the time. 

I'd always heard that Toronto was over-rated, but I was loving everything that it had to offer. So I ended up staying there for over seven weeks, with my kitten, which I adopted when I moved into the apartment. I had moved in, and literally five minutes later I heard soft and tiny cries coming from my bathroom. I had walked into there not really knowing what to expect, as I have never really been around many animals in my life, and there she was; in my bathtub.

An adorable, all white kitten, sitting in the tub, staring at me with her wide, yellow eyes. 

That was the first time that I had fallen in love.

I called her Monroe, because she has a black speck right above her mouth, that looks like a birth mark. It suited her, and still does. 

Here and there I would sell my paintings and poetry on the streets, and it would cover the cost for a week's groceries and rent. I was an independent woman, I didn't need men, or best friends. Why would I need people calling me to tell me the latest gossip? I just didn't care. 

Plus, I've been moving around since I was born. 

Quite literally. 

My mother never stayed in one place, so even as a young child, I didn't have many friends. I've had 'boyfriends', I mean, when I was twelve I had my first crush and when I was fourteen I played my first game of 'Seven minutes in Heaven' with a guy named Taylor. 

We went to second base.

Come to think of it - I've always had crushes and infatuations, but never the real deal. 

I was an eighteen year old human, whom had gotten very close, several times, but something always happened. Well, who am I kidding? Something always does happen; still. 

There were always interruptions. 

Once, when I had lived in Michigan, in the states, I met a guy names Erik. I had just turned seventeen, and he was nineteen. One night we ran into each other, and he asked me to come along with him to a house party. Of course I agreed, he was hot and I was young and willing to get boozed up. We stayed at the house party for several hours, and eventually we decided to head back to his junky apartment. I had gone there with the hopes of making it far with Erik, but half way into our make out session, a loud, obnoxious noise busted our eardrums, making us jump up and run out into the hallway. 

The fire alarm. 

Some asshole had pulled the fire alarm. 

That time wasn't the only time either. There were maybe six more times, and something incredulous had happened each and every time, stopping myself and whomever I was with from getting any further then tangling tongues. 

I started to think that I would never lose it, and that I should just give up on men, maybe even just give up on people, period.

But I had Monroe. 

Who needed people, when you had a furry friend like Monroe?

Then, one night I had sat on my small, firm mattress, ready to shut my eyes for the night. Monroe was laying on my tummy, cuddled up into a little ball, purring away. I had reached down and grabbed my notepad and pen from the floor, and as if I was being controlled, I started to write. 

The words just flew out of my mind and onto the paper, as I hurriedly scribbled them. 

I remember thinking, 'What does any of this even mean?' , but my hand kept the pen firmly in my grasp and continued to write down the words that so fluently came out. 

After a few paragraphs, my hand allowed me to release the pen, and I closed my eyes with only one thought in my mind. 

Thought One.

And now, here I am. 

In Bat shit Crazyville, where I am destined to lose my 'big V' to one attractive guy, and where I almost did lose it to another very attractive guy, whom also tried to eat me. 

As much as I know how impossible it is, I almost wish for mom to call me with one of her bi-monthly care-free check up calls.

They were basically just to make sure that we were both alive and healthy. 

Right now, though, I would kill for someone to care enough about me to check up and make sure that I'm okay. But I don't have anyone in the human world, and I'm unsure of who I have here. 

Maybe I'll just stay in bed all day, and all night.

Until I can leave this cave. 

I shake my head, no. I'm not going to be the poor, sad girl. 

I'm strong. 

I'm independent.

I'm... turning nineteen soon. 

I guess I should really figure out what it is that I plan on doing. 

Run away?

Go back to being fully human, running around cities trying to sell my artwork? So that my mother can call me six times a year to make sure that I'm not dead?

Run away - with Jones?

I have immense feelings for him, even though he continues to disappoint me and cause me pain. I can't help but think that he honestly doesn't mean to though. 

Or, do I suck it up, and go home to Neven, and face the music?

I love Neven. I can feel that too. It's like his presence never leaves me, even when we aren't together. He gives me the comfort and reassurance of a best friend, and his eyes show the desire and love that he clearly has for me. 

Shit, I should hate them both. 

But I don't, it's like their stupidity makes me love them more. 

I'm obviously not going to be able to forgive them both right away, but I think I just made one decision. I'm staying here, in this land, this dimension. 

Goodbye humanity, for good. 

No more selfish reincarnations of me, and no more pathetic human life. 

I will miss Monroe, though.

I wonder if theres any way to go back to Earth and snatch her from my apartment, and then come back here?

Who could I ask for help?

Not Neven. 

He would claim it too dangerous. 

Jones might go for it. 

But first, I have to find it in me to face him. 

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