The You in Me: 4 - What fun.

 

CHAPTER 3

The world has always had an unfair power dynamic, even when it was only littered with humans. There’s always someone in whose favour the scales of fate tip just a little more – enough to annoy someone less favoured. The Astherians were no different, owing to their bifurcated society subdivided by classes in pursuit of a constant power struggle. Every breath was an occasion to do better for these souls.

So, it was a surprise to Seraphina when the white aether circle erupted all over the crystal floor and their academy uniforms dissipated into plain white overalls.

“Your class and identities will remain anonymous for this competition in order to bring out fair results. Your abilities will be nullified by the crystal that surrounds you, instead, you shall be provided with human weapons to sustain!” an invisible announcer announced.

Seraphina slapped a hand against her forehead. The Astherians’ fascination with everything human was their only consistent character trait. So much for being a superior species when the crux of their existence was merely being copycats.

“Additionally, the student who chose number one will not be able to see everyone else’s ranks, for fun, of course.” The invisible announcer added.

Seraphina facepalmed, again, as the number clouds over everyone else’s head disappeared for her sight.

‘Hiding identities was a good idea but subduing abilities…’ Seraphina clenched her jaw, ‘I am nothing without the aether.’

Suddenly, the phrase ‘haste makes waste’ made so much sense to her as the number of peering eyes increased on her back. The crowd was dead still, maybe choosing their targets, baited breaths awaited the weapon stands materializing though the crystal walls. Iridescent shelves came forth, housing an array of weapons ranging from a gun, sword, saber, nun-chunk, net, scythes, spatula to a microphone.

“Before you choose a weapon, know that you can only see the chosen number of a person within the same range as yours. So, if you’ve chosen 599 as your number, then, you can only see the numbers of students 590 to 600. Though, as you move up in your ranks, your range may expand.”

As soon as the announcement ceased, whispers and gasps rose amidst the students. Seraphina looked around and sighed in relief as formerly piercing glances tore away from her head and found newer targets to pursue. This was nice. This was easier. This meant her opponent count took a staggering hit from 1199 to a mere 10! This was some good, good, fate! Even though she was standing at the very end of the room, an aeon away from the weapon shelves.

A grin snuck its way to Seraphina’s lips. Upon two and three observations, she gathered that no one in her immediate proximity was within her fighting range, hence, making it a good circle to hide behind.

Now, all she needed was a good weapon which would work well in long as well as short range combat and she’d be set to win!

“On the count of three, run for the weapons!”

Seraphina did not know why she waited for the system to stay loyal to the countdown. Maybe she was distracted by the fact that the they were attempting a jab at fairness. Yes, that should be it. But when the system went, “Zero, one, three!” Seraphina realised that her trust was easily earned.

The crowd rushed like starved cattle let loose on a fresh grass pasture. All they missed were pointy horns to impale Seraphina and lift her into the air like a sad battle prize. If it wasn’t obvious enough, Seraphina had never been the most athletic person in the lot.

But she knew a few mundane tricks like elbowing people in the sides to move forward.

It came up as an unsaid fact that the only way to reach the best weapon was through mortal combat, as the Dreads believed; or a stampede, as the Heroes figured.

Someone pulled the other in a chokehold; another threw a resounding, concussion inducing, kick to the person in front; some girl grabbed two others by their hair; screams erupted within the crystal hall, vibrating through its aether and reaching up to the upper-most section, behind which the Aetherunes Staff sat and giggled.

What fun.

Seraphina avoided a trip and pushed her hair in a bun for safety measures. She crouched low and poked her elbows out, hoping to survive the battlefield like a lucky grandma if she figured the best way to reach the gun shelf.

She winced as she saw two people in an intense punch fight right in front of the gun. Those hefty bruises would require a Class 2 Healer, at least, she thought to herself.

Suddenly, Seraphina doubled over, grappled with pain as someone punched her side. “Freaking hell, are you trying to sell me life insurance? Because I’m almost convinced,” she spat out. Her face fell into a grimace as looked up to see a smirking curly haired ravenette wriggling her wrists, steadying, for another punch.

“I dunno what that is but I’m only trying to win over rank one,” the girl replied with a click of her tongue.

She threw another punch but Seraphina blocked it with a knife-hand-strike. She lunged her foot forward to wrap it around Seraphina’s but the latter found it as an opportunity to grab a hold of the hand she struck and gain a footing. The girl tried to trip Seraphina while simultaneously attempting to choke her, but Seraphina twisted with the grip on her hand and swung her over her shoulder and onto the crystal floor.

The loud thump attracted more attention than she was comfortable with and Seraphina couldn’t help the maniacal grin on her face. Her body was moving on instinct, as if some latent muscle memory had decided to resurface in the face of flight or fight. It was way nicer than being beaten to a pulp.

Another student slung an arm around her neck and clenched it for a choke. Seraphina elbowed him, but to no momentary avail. She began clawing her nails into his arm only for him to grab them by his free hand and twist it behind her back. Choking for air, Seraphina haphazardly looked around for some kind of help. Then, she saw it. A sturdy back in proximity.

Seraphina used one leg to propel herself and another to bounce off the sturdy back, using momentum to throw her attacker off balance. She landed behind him, twisted and in a heap. She had a moment to pant and suddenly there was a gun shot.

Oh, this was fun. The best weapon was already grabbed. Seraphina couldn’t lose anymore time. She stepped over the boy and grabbed a hold of the splattered curly haired girl. She slid her hands under her armpits and began circling; as her steps grew wider, the body swayed harder and faster. Like a man-made tornado, Seraphina stormed through the crowds, parting them with partial awe and partial annoyance.

She succeeded halfway through, until someone grabbed the girl’s foot, mid-sway, and flung her off balance. Seraphina fell and the world zoomed around her; left momentarily vulnerable, a sword wielding student raised his arm, ready for slaughter, but was stopped by a bullet being shot into his armed hand.

“No attacking the defenseless. Haven’t you learnt?” the gun wielder snapped.

Seraphina’s hands grappled against the crystal, trying to hinge herself back into reality. The sword fell beside her, clanking, and a hoard of students clamored forth for the taking. Instinct drove her to kick a person’s shin and pull them down so she could stand up. She turned to face her savior but caught no glimpse of him as another body lunged at her.

Seraphina merely stepped away and missed the attack by a finger’s width. She sped towards the weapon shelf, only to be caught again, this time in the middle of already two fighting students.

“Do you even know how to use nun-chunks? Do you even know what they are, you hard boiled egg brain?” the girl shouted, throwing a punch.

“I, for one, pay attention during weapon mastery. Have been doing it for fifty years now, unlike someone who constantly simps for the professor!” the boy scowled, as he stopped the girl’s punch with one hand.

Seraphina was brought into it as the girl interlocked her fingers with the boy’s and they flung a kick each in her direction. Sandwiched, Seraphina stalled the kicks by holding onto their ankles, midway. She hurled a kick at the boy but he was swift to stop it with a mid-way grab of his own. She smirked and using his grasp as a hinge, Seraphina twisted into a jump and knocked her foot into the girl’s jaw.

She faltered, about to fall, when the boy rushed to grab her by the collar. Slanted, scowling, but conscious, the girl gained back her footing. Seraphina barely landed on her two feet when the girl was chucked at her.

“Can you see how she fights better than you? You’re disappointing, Nysa,” the boy taunted.

Nysa growled as she threw punch after punch at Seraphina, haphazardly.

“Who are you? My love rival? How dare you try to hit on my man?!” Nysa screamed as Seraphina tried to block the punches being rained down on her.

“Are you kidding me? You call that your man?!” Seraphina tsked and blocked a punch to her nose. “And you guys literally pulled me in this!” she tsked.

Without a pattern to observe, several of Nysa’s bony fists landed on Seraphina’s gut before she realised the uselessness of Nysa’s feet and kneed her groin.

“Shit,” Nysa jumped into a backflip and swung a kick at the boy’s head. “How dare you try to manipulate me, you dog, Irewin. I bet you’re trying to hit on her!”

Irewin, mostly out of shock, could not avoid the kick and spun a three-sixty on his heel. Though, before Nysa could attack again, he leaped forward, grabbed her by her hair, pulled her back and launched himself at Seraphina like a bullet.

In the blink of an eye, his hands were grabbing her by the shoulders whilst he was suspended over her head and he was able to pull her along in a semi-circle and thrashed her into the floor.

“How dare you turn my girlfriend against me, you bitch, do you like me?” he mocked her.

Seraphina groaned. “There is something wrong with your head, but, thankfully, both of ours is a Class 1 healer’s problem,” she smiled and swooped her foot to make him trip. Irewin jumped but Seraphina was already twirling into another kick as she shot up. The blow struck against his face, hard and he propelled into another person nearby.

Nysa instantly went for an underhook, a chin for a chin or some poetic revenge, but Seraphina evaded with backward bend. The punch, instead, landed under the chin of the person who was right behind Seraphina, ready to attack. He was a big, burly, giant of a man with an ill proportioned head to body ratio.

Nysa’s eyes widened at the sudden enraged scream the man let out. She instinctively reached out for Seraphina’s hand and pulled her towards herself, away from the raging madman.

“Shut the hell up!” Irewin erupted like a volcano of his own, charging at the man with a whirlwind kick. But he was blocked with that man’s knife-hand-strike and sent flying back into the girls.

“You’re almost as annoying as he is,” Nysa spat at Irewin, eyeing the raging man.

“Oh please! That’s so you when things are not going your way!” Irewin retorted.

“Can we focus on the matter at hand? Please?!” Seraphina exhaled in exasperation as she somehow found herself standing in between the two.

“Of course,” the couple looked snapped in unison.

“I’ll go first,” Irewin announced and ran before confirmation. His long legs worked like swords, urging blow after blow on the big man’s hands. Bruised enough, the big man kneed him in the gut and shot Irewin high into the ceiling.

Unconcerned, Nysa instantly went for his gut with a flurry of her own punches. The big man doubled over, momentarily, and Seraphina saw it as an opportunity to lunge forward. She grabbed his arm and used Nysa’s back as a stepping stool to snake her way onto the big man’s shoulders. She wrapped her thighs around his thick neck and elbowed his nape with vigor.

The big man shook himself, violently, to dislodge Seraphina but Nysa’s punches kept him occupied momentarily. Though, he instantly figured to throw himself on his back in order to crush Seraphina instead.

As he toppled backwards, Nysa dashed as several jumps back, her jaw hung in awe with what she was about to witness – probably a skull being cracked open in front of her very own eyes.

Seraphina’s breath hitched, awaiting her demise. ‘A hard crash against this crystal floor and being buried under the size of this giant man’s sweaty back…what a lame way to die. Mother would be so asham—Oh heaven, I cannot die! I still need to put away that skeleton in my bathtub!’ she thought to herself.

Before Seraphina could attack or even break her skull, someone else had already taken action and lodged themselves in between the floor and that hulk of a man. Seraphina slipped onto the floor, on her own accord, chest heaving as she saw a girl grinning menacingly at her. Her ruby hair covered her face for she was leaning slightly forward, her elbow stuck right against the big man’s spine.

“How much do you consider your life’s worth?” the girl wheezed, raised her head and pushed the big man to fall face-first into the crystal floor, “Because I just saved yours.”

“Thank you,” is all Seraphina could say. Her savior was beautiful; her eyes, big and glimmering like the ocean under the summer sun and the soft curves of her nose, lips and cheeks made it impossible to believe that she could survive even the sight of blood. Over her arched brows were embedded two dark crystals, at the ends, making Seraphina gasp in shock.

That girl was a true Astherian. One who had mastered Two Ancient Runes which would fulfil her purpose. A true S-Class aetherfolk.

Seraphina was saved twice even before she could reach the weapon stand.

The weapon stand.

Ah.

Seraphina looked around as soon as she realised the silence around her, only to witness all the student body passed out on the crystal floor. The only ones standing were the redhead, Nysa, Irewin limping and lodged on Nysa’s shoulder and him.

The You in Me: 2 - A New World.

 

C H A P T E R   O N E

“Seraphina! Wake up or you will be late! If you’re late, you’ll never get a good education. If education eludes you, you’ll never get a job! Joblessness will make you ugly and take you off the marriage mart! If you’re jobless and a maiden—well, then, that is a nutshell for ruination! And ruination is neither beautiful nor sustainable in the long run! So, WAKE UP. RIGHT THIS INSTANT.”

Wake up, Seraphina did; rising like a corpse from a grave, clawing its way out of the dirt it was buried in. She threw away her blankets and stood up on her two feet like the independent teenager she was. Her arms stretched out and a yawn escaped her lips before she could call out, “I’m up, mother, all awake and avoiding ruination!”

With a doozy sight, she swayed left and right as she wobbled her way into the bathroom and felt up the blue marbled walls for the toothbrush stand. Her fingers met the familiar grooves of her toothbrush and her half-opened eyes could see a red blob in her hand, through the mirror in front, as she directed the thing under the tap. The stream of water broke into a million droplets upon meeting her coarse toothbrush bristles. She applied the toothpaste on it and shoved it into her mouth.

Birds chirped outside her bathroom window, probably communicating their daily schedule to the morning sun. The wind seemed to add a few inputs of her own as it made the tree leaves rustle in communication.

A lazy smile smeared itself on her mouth as a green trail of toothpaste foam ran down the side of her lips and onto her chin.

Mornings were supposed to be silent and beautiful like this. Easy and hopeful.

She forced her eyes open to rinse off her mouth only to spot a person in the mirror, standing right behind her. Masked, clothed in academy armour, weapon at the ready.

He swung his sword before Seraphina could even fathom a thought and it impaled her back. Swiftly. Mercilessly. Her body jerked forward and toothpaste burst out of her mouth along with blood. The mint-blood concoction smeared itself on the mirror as she witnessed her white tee-shirt grow a red blob stain, spreading by the second.

Seraphina, impaled like a kebab, groaned.

“Mother is gonna be so mad about this,” she whispered, rather hoarsely to the man in the mirror. Her hands wrapped around the sharp blade in an attempt to push the sword out through her back. She succeeded in a jiffy.

“You seemed to have dropped this, I believe,” she held the sword in her bloody hands and turned to face the man.

His teeth chattered in the confines of his clenched jaw, betraying the otherwise stoicism of his stance.

“You wound me, quite literally,” Seraphina spat, shoving the sword in the young hero’s chest. He hadn’t bothered to keep his identity a secret so his white and gold academy uniform betrayed the anonymity. The golden badge on his breast pocket gleamed under the window’s sunlight, reading: CLASS 1.

“Tsk.” As the bloody sword hit his chest, his wits returned to him. The boy swung a punch to her right. Seraphina’s scarlet eyes tinged gold for a second, as she predicted his move, and swung a knife-hand-strike to his right. The blow pierced through his golden cuff and struck right against his bone.

CRACK.

“That’s gotta need a Class B healer, poor soul,” Seraphina feigned concern as she coughed out more blood.

“Or I’ll just consume you,” the boy rasped and swung his sword-wielding left hand with the aim of slicing her neck off. Azure aether circles enveloped the blade of his sword, offering him a power-up.

Seraphina’s eyes twinkled.

Her toothbrush encircled with a black whirlwind of its size met the sword’s blade before her neck. The boy ground his teeth and forced the blade forward but the toothbrush sliced through it with ease; as the horror of his hard-earned sword being bested by a mere toothbrush settled into his heart, Seraphina threw a jab under his chin.

He fell to the tiled floor along with his sword blades thumping beside each other in a pool of her blood.

“I’d leave you alive,” Seraphina smiled, “But if I don’t do a few bad things in a day… I’ll perish.” She stabbed her fingers through his armour and the black aether circle around them allowed them to pierce through his flesh and bones. They met the softness of his heart and felt it beating erratically as her fingers wrapped around it. Five layers of aether circles appeared around her arm; his chest glowed in a faint golden light which when spiraled around her arm, turned darker with every aether circle they hit.

The darkest being right over her own heart as she consumed his aether and left the once youthful boy as a corpse of his ill made decisions.

A memory erupted in her head; it was of the boy when he was young, blonde hair swaying like the golden wheat he was surrounded with. His blue eyes dazzled with ambition under the scorching sun as he swung his sword, over and over, at the scarecrow.

“Come eat lunch, sweetie!” a woman’s voice called him.

“Right after I’m done! When I’m in the academy, you’ll have to eat all the meals by yourself,” the boy replied with a shout. A smile brandished his face.

“Of course, my son, of course. You’ll be a great hero one day but not unless you eat your meals!”

The boy gasped in realisation and dropped his sword, his footsteps raced away as the memory did from Seraphina’s head. She detached her hand from his slowly dissolving body and the aether circles disappeared.

“Ach,” she spat the mint-blood concoction again and stood up. She pulled up her tee-shirt to check the bloody gash on her torso. It seemed to be closing up at a good enough pace. Satisfied, Seraphina passed the dead guy one last glance before turning her back to him. “Making me feel bad for nothing so early in the morning, you are,” she whispered as she washed her bloody hand in the sink.

His darkened skeleton laid cold and brazen by her feet as Seraphina whined, “And what am I supposed to do with this mess?! Mum will have my life!” she grimaced at the mirror in front of her and the blood underneath her feet. She splashed water on the soiled mirror and used her bare hands to wipe it down and clean it up.

“Such an inconvenience,” she tsked. Seraphina bent over to pick the skeleton by its head and winced. Her blood trailed down its bones, dripping back onto the floor, which made her stomp twice in annoyance.

“Sera! Are you ready yet? The breakfast is getting cold! If you eat cold breakfast, you’ll end up not liking it! If you do not like breakfast, you’ll start skipping it! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and if you skip it, you will grow weaker! If you grow weak on the inside, you’ll be prone to diseases and get sick a lot! Which would mean big chunks of medicines until the day you die!”

Her mother’s voice came closer with every syllable she uttered and Seraphina’s heart thundered faster with every footstep drawing closer.

She shoved the skeleton in her bathtub and drew the curtain. She stripped off her bloodied clothes and threw them onto the floor to absorb some blood or maybe use them as a mop to wipe the floor clean.

A chill ran down her spine as she splashed water on the bloodstains around her stomach and legs, clad only in her underwear. It didn’t seem to work.

“I am coming, mum, my- uh, my drain is clogged! Um, just a second!”

She twisted her shower knob and stood underneath it with an open mouth, gargling and showering at the same time.

“You’re still showering?! Girl, I-, oh my, did you not even iron your uniform? Seraphina! An un-ironed uniform means you’re disrespecting yourself and the authorities! I raised you better than this! Oh, my goodness, she’s eighteen and I’m still doing everything for her!”

Wet and relatively cleaner, Seraphina poked her wet head out of the bathroom door and grinned. “That’s why you’re the best mum and I love you,” she winked as her mother rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Not a braincell in sight around here!” her short mother scoffed, swung the uniform over her shoulder and stomped out of her daughter’s room.

Seraphina heaved a sigh of relief.

The running water had helped the blood drain faster and the gash over her stomach seemed to have healed itself.

“Almost traumatised my mother today, I did,” Seraphina whispered as she picked up the broken sword and stashed it along with the skeleton.

After a quick shower and lazy mirror wipe, she paraded into her room and dressed into her well-ironed, curtsy mother, black and gold academy uniform. The fabric felt soft to touch but when clad, it doubled up as a basic need armour.

Seraphina’s mother had no idea of who she was or what her academy truly entailed of and she would like to keep it that way. To her mother, Seraphina was an ordinary eighteen-year-old trying to graduate from a private academy with good grades in order to have sustainable future options which was professional for motherlingo: good marriage, stable income and a good number of babies to help with increasing the human population.

Seraphina walked up to the full-length mirror beside her wardrobe and adjusted the black ribbon around her neck for it happened to be covering the golden badge on her breast-pocket, which read: Aetherunes, CLASS S.

The Aetherunes Academy was a secluded dream for common folk and a hellscape for the gifted. Every normal human wanted to be part of the world’s most elite circle but every soul with aether running through their bloodstream knew that it was not a place capable enough to sustain. Though forced by their own circumstances, humanity constantly strived to be better in secrecy.

“Ah, you look so neat!” Lisbeth, commented as her daughter walked down the stairs. Her slender fingers tapped against each other in a show of excitement, “Come along, have your breakfast. Where’s your bag? I do not see a bag! Seraphina, do you not know what happens to kids who do not bring their books and notebooks! Education eludes them! you cannot be that person, now, can you? Only if you want to end up jobless, ugly and a maiden! No one wants that, do they now? So, BRING YOUR BAG RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

“Geez, I haven’t been issued the new term syllabus, mum, they’ll give it to me today. I don’t need a bag to go empty handed, right?” Seraphina explained as she took a seat in front of a table laden with food. Her stomach grumbled and the insatiable appetite of a demon resurfaced.

Only for it to be hindered by her mother’s whack on her head.

“Ouch! That hurt!” cried the girl (who was stabbed minutes prior and did not bat an eye lash) almost teary eyed as the boiled egg slipped out of her grip and onto the table.

“Did you wash your hands? Of course you did not! You know what happens to dirty kids, don’t you? Sickness. Medicines. Death! And where do you plan on keeping your lunchbox?! Nu-uh, no, don’t you make that face! Of course you are taking a lunchbox! Do you want to perish without lunch? Don’t you know what happens to kids who do not eat? Sickness. Medicines. Death!”

Her enunciation of, ‘Sickness, medicines and death,’ was as dramatic as fifth graders acting out the mutual death scene of Romeo and Juliet.

“Of course not, I wanna live with mum for a long, long, time,” Seraphina smiled and wrapped her hands around her mother’s waist. It felt squishy and comfortable as she rubbed her cheek against her mother’s belly.

“You’re eighteen and you act like a toddler, tsk, find your bag and keep a lunchbox! Make haste!”

“Yes, mum!” Seraphina saluted and ran back upstairs. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be bullied on her first day.

 

The You in Me: 1 - The choice in between being kind or looking away.

 

P R O L O U G E

“We’re all made of stardust, what makes them better than us?” Seraphina asked as she followed her mother’s trail, diligently avoiding any missteps on the path into wilderness.

“If every human sat back to ponder on that, we would be even more jobless than we already are,” Lisbeth replied as she hiked higher up the mountain, combating thickets with tender hands and observant eyes.

“I wouldn’t say we’re all that jobless,” Seraphina huffed, a frown easing onto her brows. The lush overgrowth darkened their paths ahead and the only light soothing their insecurity was the lantern in Lisbeth’s hand, swinging to-and-fro.

“That’s because humans as a species are inherently stubborn and would never concede their pride. Their territory, they would, but not the pride.”

“Ha!” Seraphina exclaimed, avoiding the outgrown roots with a small skip in her step, “That’s why we are here, in the thick of the night, because you are too prideful to accept Mr. Henrick’s accusations!” a cheeky smile graced her face as her mother’s arrogant shoulders slumped just enough to prove her point.

“We are here to help old Mr. Henrick. Not because he offended me with the baseless accusations of feeding him the wrong medicine. He’s a patient and so, we must be patient with him. If humans abandon their patience and kindness, we’re no better than those who invaded us. Remember, haste makes waste.”

Lisbeth crouched under a low hanging branch and turned to hold out a hand for her daughter. Under the fluorescent glow of the lantern, her brown locks blazed gold. Seraphina rolled her eyes at her mother’s holier-than-thou smile but held onto Lisbeth’s hand as she crouched under the branch and was swiftly pulled to the other side.

“Look at you, still being so prideful,” Seraphina scrunched her nose with the reply.

Lisbeth let go of her daughter’s hand as they neared the hill-top. Her steps grew smaller and gentler as she placed them precisely over flat stones or muddy patches lining their path, “Be careful of the Panicum maximum,” she pointed at the guinea grass, “There’s already limited grazing pastures. No need for us to ruin more.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I always am,” Seraphina sang, “We must protect the limited resources left for human survival.”

“Ruin one life and it always comes back to you,” Lisbeth sang back and the duo broke into laughter. Upon reaching the hill-top, Lisbeth inhaled fresh gusts of carbon dioxide as if it were early morning air; regardless of its major constituents, the air was still more pure up there than on the ground they came from.

“I love being in the midst of nature,” Lisbeth commented as she raised her lantern to illuminate the trees around.

“Being raised in a bunker surely makes you considerate,” Seraphina snorted as she squinted her eyes in the opposite direction of light. “I think I found it,” she pointed at a lush tree with long broad leaves and a silhouette of round fruits hanging in the center.

Lisbeth raised her lantern to Seraphina’s side and rolled her eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You understand that using basic observation skills is not a privilege. It is a right and you can exercise it, my daughter; that is the Annona Muricata, not even close to what we’re looking for. Don’t you see the literal spikes on its fruit?” Lisbeth worded out her exasperation.

In the light, Seraphina’s brown hair seemed haywire, each strand in strong opposition of sticking to the other. They framed her head like a crown of hay, giving way to a large forehead and sunken grey eyes. She raised her glasses closer to her eyes and replied, “Well it is not my fault that we are trespassing on government grounds with barely a light source to survive. I’m not the one with fifty years of experience in illegal activities, mother!”

“Thirty-seven!” Lisbeth corrected and turned Seraphina’s chin to the opposite side, “And that is what we are looking for. Carcia Papaya, its leaves are used to increase potential platelet count of a patient suffering from Dengue fever. Pick out the fresh ones; we’ll make a juice out of them for Mr. Henrick.”

Seraphina nodded at her obvious error in observation, for surely, the papaya tree bore round fruits instead of prickly ones. “It might need a little bit of climbing,” she pointed out, comparing their cumulative short heights with the tree’s.

She grabbed the lantern from her mother’s hand and opened up her backpack. Lisbeth grabbed a fistful of chalk from a paper bag and rubbed it across her palms. On the count of three, Lisbeth grabbed a hold of the tree’s slender trunk and mounted it with the ease of an expert. Though, just as she was about to pluck a leaf, from the gained extra height, Lisbeth spotted a fire on the lower end.

“Sera! I think there’s a fire across,” she informed as her hands hastily plucked the leaves and threw them to Seraphina.

“Why then, jump and run, mother?!” Seraphina whisper-shouted as she haphazardly picked up the leaves.

Lisbeth’s eyes did not move away from the smokeless flames which flared up her beloved trees; two silhouettes struggled in the midst of it.

“No, there’s people there…we must help them!”

“Are you kidding me? We are trespassing, mother, we cannot be caught up in it!!”

“Seraphina! I raised you better than that!” Lisbeth snapped as she jumped down with a subtle thump and forced the last bunch of leaves in her backpack.

“Even if we save them, the system will have our heads!” Seraphina snapped as she zipped up her backpack.

“We all have a choice and we must all choose kindness. If we do not, then we are no better than them.”

Lisbeth looked her daughter in the eye. Against the lantern, the grey of her eyes twinkled like a star. It brought a smile to Lisbeth’s face.

“You go home, wash the leaves, crush them and juice them. I’ll see what I can do to help. Run, now.”  

So, Seraphina ran.

 

ill timed — 1

All Good Things Take Time — Chapter 1

All Good Things take time: if and when one is earnest enough to invest their last shred of Hope and a progressively receding Will-to-survive into a fresh brew of dire discomfiture. One must hold on in pursuit of 'A Better Tomorrow,' a strange concoction of raging optimism garnishing your dish of Hope 'n Will with a smidge of Patience on the side. 

A big nom leads to All Good Things!

Unfortunately for little Orielle, the ingredient list seemed out of bounds in the confines of the huge trashcan from the open mouth of which her stocking covered legs dangled in a to-and-fro motion. Her immediate, dare I say, respite… consisted of a week's worth of lunch, more abundantly rotting spinach, eggs and bananas, swarming over her dull brown hair. The stench emanated from the aforementioned participants lingered around her with constancy, bordering memory…or far worse, nostalgia.

Through her dull eyes she could see the yellow plastic of the half open trash can, delightedly beaming under the presence of harsh sunlight. 

"Yellow is a happy color, my students! Color the sun yellow so that your drawings will be a happy place!" Ms. Prisms, her art teacher, had once said. The memory evaded Orielle's brain, along with an afterthought, 'So, is the trashcan my happy place?' that was not strong enough to reach her lips. It sure was peaceful though, inside the trashcan, away from people. 

Her little feet rocked to a beat of their own before strange giddy hands found their way to her buckled black shoes and unstrapped them with a swish. She squeaked an unpromising protest. 

There were laughs.

The voices brought familiarity she despised, a hiraeth she did not long for. Her thumbnails greeted her index finger with sharp caresses, teeth digging into the flesh of her cheeks as her brown eyes blew wide in fear, panicked irises, stomach rumbling, feet freezing and heart racing against time itself. 

"Guys! Look! Orbin's in the trash again and she got no shoes!"

"Ha! Wait till Mr. Smod catches her and makes a spectacle of her beating!"

Her breath hitched, she sunk her teeth harder, dug her thumbnails faster into her fingers, succumbing into herself. Her shoulders curling inwards as she tried to make herself smaller, further seeking refuge in the burial hosted by rotting food.

"Do not make haste; there is something better I can do!"

A snip, a tear, and Orielle could suddenly feel the sunlight attack her bare feet like hungry leeches to a fresh body. The yellow trash can felt like a happy jail. It protected her with the dregs that resided in it. 

"Look! Orbin has got holes in her socks! Torn socks! What rags!"

"I know, let's call her Orag! Or O'binrag! Oh! I know an even better! Binrag!"

And they laughed again. 

And she felt miserable again.

Oh! It was a cycle, a dreadful one, but it would soon end for the better. 

After all, All Good Things Take Time.

Unless you lose all sense of it.