The excitement in her voice was obvious to me, even more so than the fact that she was trying her hardest to hide it. Her doe eyes were wide in her round face, as if she had found some hidden secret she found remarkable, a life changing miracle. They shone through the darkness of my bedroom, their bright green almost black.
“C’mon silly, before mommy and daddy wake up!” I scrambled out of my bed, rubbing the sleep from my scrunched up eyes. I was grumpy. It wasn’t like I didn’t have an excuse though. Anyone would be if they’d just been woken up in the middle of the night to play with their sister. The air was cool, but comfortable in my fleecy pajamas. I slipped my feet into my fuzzy slippers, only to have her say, “No, no, don’t bring those. You’ll only make noise.” I grudgingly took my feet out. They would be cold on all the hardwood floors. I looked at her own feet, to see them in fuzzy socks.
I pointed at her feet and with an accusation in my quiet voice, “Hey! You have socks on! That’s not fair. I want socks.” She sighed.
“Fine. Just hurry up. Mommy and daddy might wake up.” I smiled in triumph and dashed over to my dresser, pulling out the drawer with a loud sound from the metal handle hitting the wood. Rifling through the drawer, I grinned when I found my favorite pair- blue with little dogs on them. Perfect for an adventure. I pulled them on with another wide grin and turned towards my sister.
“Ready!” She grumbled for a moment, but soon forgot when a smile peeked from beneath the frown. She didn’t really care about the wait- she was too excited for anything to spoil the fun. I followed her out of the cracked door, making more sound trying to tip-toe in my slippery socks than I would have walking normally. We made our way down the hallway without waking our older brother or parents, and I followed, becoming just as excited as my sister when we reached the front door. “Wait- where are we going? We aren’t allowed outside by ourselves.”
My sister turned and gave me a devilish smile. “You’ll see.” The heavy door opened with a long creak, as it trying in vain to wake our parents in order to warn them. Terrified at the thought of discovery, we hurried out in a rush of backward glances and small slips on the slick floor.
The surprise my pudgy sister had for me was stupid. I was expecting something great, something magic. It’s natural when someone wakes you up in the middle of the night to expect something magic, right? I wanted fairies. Maybe even just fireflies. Not some stupid bug she’d caught outside her window and left outside. Especially not when I had to sneak out at night, and get my feet all cold in the dewy grass. My socks were soaking wet. Those poor little doggies.
I was storming off in disgust from the spider in a jar when the glitter from the thick hedge separating our yard from our neighbor’s caught my eye. Upon closer inspection, I found nothing out of the norm. But where was it coming from?
I motioned my sister over, who, being hurt from my lack of interest, pretended not to care. She was lousy at not caring. Having given up her grudge after a few seconds, she quickly came over and thrust her hand into the bristly plant, trying to grab whatever it was reflecting the moonlight so brightly. “Hey!” Without thinking my voice rang out through the quiet night. I slapped my mouth harder than I meant to, trying to stifle the words.
“You’re gonna wake everyone up!” My sister’s whine rebuking me was even louder than I had been. I shushed her quietly, the hand over my mouth now just a single finger. She rolled her eyes at me and muttered, “You were louder.”
I didn’t bother to correct her, but instead looked past her into the bush. The glitter didn’t seem to come from anywhere specific. I parted the long twigs and leaves blocking parts of the shine, but still couldn’t see anything. “Hey, I wanna seee!” My sister pushed past me, shoving her hands into the depths of the thorny branches. It almost seemed that the branches curled back, shrank back into the opening she had created through half of the bush. I helped her, pushing them out to the sides and holding them there. The glimmer was growing steadily brighter, though I could still see no definite source. I stepped towards the bush, into it, and continued moving through it without ever reaching the other side. I turned back towards my sister, still standing outside the world of sharp needled leaves who stared at me with a funny looking expression of befuddlement.
I grinned. “Now this, this is an adventure. You coming?” I didn’t wait for a response, but turned and continued. The air around me became dusty, musty, heavy in some odd way. Not a weight, , but heavy with emotion- that feeling that experience when you enter a place in which a something bad has happened. It barely smelled of earth or plant- more like grime and metallic filth. Dirty. Trepidation sent my nerve endings afire. A chill washed over my skin. It was a beautiful feeling.
I could feel my sister behind me, could hear her huffing and puffing her way through the branches to reach me. It really wasn’t that far. The ground was soft, almost like a forest floor, but as I continued, it became soft in a different way; almost as if we were walking on a carpet. I came to an abrupt halt when I walked through a door frame. I was a bit surprised at its sudden appearance, but thought it fitting for an adventure. I waited a moment, looked behind me to see Rachel slowly making her way over from the dark tunnel. When she finally reached me, we both stepped into a dimly lit room.
It was humongous. The walls were decorated in mirrors and masks, almost
like a circus I’d once been to a long, long time ago. But these mirrors weren’t silly. These weren’t mirrors that made you all fat or all thin; these mirrors were all different shapes and sizes from one another. They were old and covered in dust, and some of them were covered up with white cloths. I couldn’t see myself in them... couldn’t quite make out what looked out of them at all. It was all blurry and vague.
The masks were colorful, but had gruesome expressions plastered onto them, frozen in grimaces and wicked grins. They were worn, and some of the paint was chipped off. I couldn’t suppress a shiver that danced its way up my spine, delicate and piercing. I felt it all the way in my stomach. The room itself was filled with randomly placed curtains and mismatched furniture. Huge armrests took the corners and wall, bookcases filled the middle, not in lines like you would see in a library- these were all random, facing no specific direction, just put there, filled with books, and forgotten. Dust was painted across everything, a thick layer that made you cough whenever you moved anything.
“Ahh, angels. I see you’ve returned to me then? It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for you to come back for quite a while.” I turned to see an elderly man looking down at us kindly. No, not an elderly man. In fact, he looked quite young. No, just spry. He moved as smooth as water. A second glance made me question his kindly look; it seemed that a hint of malice hid behind the gleam in his eyes. Or were they twinkling? I shook my head. Stop judging him by how he looks. Doesn’t mommy always say something about that? I couldn’t remember. I put out my hand.
“I’m Mia.” The man looked confused. Angry? He gently pushed my hand away.
“No you aren’t.” His voice held just the right amount of befuddlement to hide the challenging anger behind it. He thrust a gnarled pointer finger at me. “You’re Elizabeth.” He turned the finger on my shy sister, who still stood behind me. No doubt she was making herself as small as possible. “And you’re Margaret.”
I didn’t really know what to say. I had never had anyone tell me my name before. Especially when they were wrong. “No, sir, I’m sorry. You must have us confused with someone else. I’m Mia. This is my sister, Rachel.” I held out my hand again. Poor old man.
He turned away, not noticing the hand, or just not acknowledging it. Slightly miffed, I followed him. “What’s your name?” He didn’t answer, but instead continued weaving his way through the towering bookcases, large volumes precariously balancing in stacks swaying with our movement. He weaved in and out of the structures like a memorized and well-known labyrinth. We followed him.
We had no inkling of where he was going, or if the room even led to anywhere. But it was an adventure. Behind each bookcase was another mass of others, of red and gold objects piled up along the sides. I paid not attention to our surroundings, the thick texts coating the walls around me, but the man in front of me. With each step, I could hear bells softly jingling from the depths of his large worn teal overcoat. He almost sounded as if he was muttering to himself, but it could have been a low hum. Whatever it was, it was deep, almost a growl, and rhythmic. I was enchanted by it, and knew my way through the bookcases only by following the soft noise. When it abruptly stopped with a louder peal, I rushed forward. I could hear Rachel still puffing behind me.
The man came to an abrupt stop, and I rushed up to him. He looked at the wall opposite us, and pointed up to a painting. Two little girls, perhaps a little younger than Rachel and me, stared back at us, archaic little dresses held up by two perfectly folded hands. Neither of them smiled, and their eyes were much smaller than ours. They kind of looked like us with green eyes and dark hair, but… sadder in a way. Grim.
“Are those Elizabeth and Margaret?” Rachel’s voice seemed to wake the man up, who’d been staring at the picture with an intense look of something like sadness. But his brow had been furrowed.
“Yes, yes. Well, no- they’re you. Yes, they’re you.” He seemed a bit confused, but looked down at us now, excitement in his squinted eyes. I glanced back at Rachel. She looked uncertain, and a little afraid. I didn’t understand why she was being so silly. He was just an old man who couldn’t remember our names.
“No, remember, my name is Mia, and she’s Rachel. Those are different little girls. Sorry mister.” He whirled to me, sadness gone.
“Lies aren’t good for you, Elizabeth. It would be wise for you to stop playing this ridiculous game.”
I didn’t say anything. Rachel and I exchanged a glance. This guy was a little kooky. I decided to play along; obviously, our real names were making him upset.
This is way back from June- I've always had trouble writing from a child's perspective (weird since I'm just a teenager). Not sure if I should continue- thoughts? Even a sentence or two is helpful!
Thanks!
-Coral-
