HELLO WORLD~
Ysh here writing/typing a fic involving the Pevensie and a character of mine simply because I do what I want. Lol. I should probably insert the part where I started rereading the books and I'm so in love with it...AGAIN. And now, on with story. D
Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia.
AND NOW YOU KNOW
Part One: THE END IS WHERE WE BEGIN
My brother is obsessed with something. I can feel it in every part of my bones. He has been locked up inside his room for days now and I am starting to worry. Something smells fishy. He has failed to come down for dinner for the last five days. My mom and dad think he is merely undergoing his "teenage" phase. Yeah right. I am two years older than him and I have never undergone a "teenage" phase.
Should I be concerned?
"Mark, may I come in?" I say, knocking on the poster-covered door that will eventually lead me to my younger brother's room. That is, if he will unlock the door. I stand there waiting for him to get at the door which is, by the way, full of "Off Limits" signs or "Enter at Your Own Risk." Heck, I helped him buy those stuff. That ungrateful brat!
I let out a dramatic sigh as my patience starts running out. After a few more minutes, I decide that it is fruitless. Mark will not open this door.
I am about to give up when I hear a soft click followed by a creak. I turn around to face my younger brother looking quite haggard and dirty. How long has he been there? Four days? Five days? When was the last time he took a bath?
His green eyes look exhausted as it scans the empty corridor which contains the doors to our rooms. Finally, his attention snaps back at me. He motions for me to come nearer without bothering to open his mouth. I am about to say something witty at him but he interrupts by placing a finger on his lips. Once again, he gestures at me to come nearer. Rolling my eyes, I oblige.
As soon as I am inside his room, he closes the door behind me without creating much noise at all.
"Well?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and giving him a petulant look.
He smiles at me instead of saying something. That smile scares me. It is the epitome of trouble. In fact, that smile is the prelude of an imminent doom. I raise an eyebrow at his peculiar smile. "What?" I ask, impatiently.
He rubs his hands together. "I discovered something," he says, sounding triumphant and jolly. Whatever he discovered, it makes him really eager.
"Have you discovered that one can survived being locked up in his room for a week?" I sneer.
He frowns at me. "Oh come on. It didn't take that long," he protests. I merely shrug. His grasp on the time element has completely deserted him. But my subtle condescension is left ignored by his zeal.
"Hal, focus," he snaps at me.
I scoff at him. Hal is my nickname which he exclusively uses to irk me or to try to make a point. In fact, it is the name my family calls me. I know it is a guy's name but I am used to being called Hal instead of Halaine. I kind of despise my real name.
"Well, just get on with your freaky discovery. I'm hungry and I want to have my dinner," I tell him.
He clears his throat and places his hands behind him...the usual pose when an old man lectures a child. "As you may have noticed, I have been hooked by C.S. Lewis's books..."
"Narnia?" I ask, cutting him off.
He scowls at me. I know that he hates being interrupted, but I cannot help it.
"Well, go on," I usher.
"Do you have anything else to say?" he asks me.
I shake my head from side to side, like the good girl I am.
"Better. As I was saying, I have been quite engrossed with those seven books for some time now, right?"
I remain silent.
"Right?" he asks once more.
"Uh. Is that question directed to me? Or is it rhetorical?"
He sighs melodramatically. "Fine. Let's skip the intro."
I smile, proud of myself. You see, my brother tends to get boring when it comes to his speeches. I will do everything I can just to obstruct him from starting one. Once he starts, there will be no turning back.
"In the first book, it is mentioned there that a person can travel through time and space with the help of a ring...well, two rings, to be exact."
I do not need to listen to the rest of his story. "We're at it again," I mumble.
There are some things you might need to know about me and my brother. You see, when we were younger, my brother and I fell in love with a book. Obviously, the book is entitled The Chronicles of Narnia. We may not want to admit it but we got really obsessed with the series up to the extent where we would start making up stories how we could go to Narnia. Usually, we would hide ourselves in huge wardrobes believing that at any moment we would be transported somewhere far away from here.
But we grew up. He is fourteen years old and I am sixteen years old. We know that things like Narnia do not exist in the real world. It is just a part of our childhood. I hope it stays that way.
Mark stares incredulously at me. "What do you mean 'We're at it again?'" he says, mimicking my voice. I roll my eyes at the poor imitation.
"Let me guess, you'll start blabbering about new worlds and dimensions through wardrobes or subways or...or...paintings..."
Mark glares at me. "You forgot about the rings," he snaps.
I stick my tongue at him. "I was about to say that, thank you very much," I say, impertinently.
"May I continue with what I am saying?" he asks.
"Oh please, do proceed, Mr. Einstein," I mock.
He shrugs off the insult and continues. "Remember how Polly and Diggory got in Narnia? They used rings. One is yellow and the other is green. Remember that or are you too old for that?"
I nod my head. Of course I still remember that. "And so?"
"And remember how they buried those rings somewhere in England?"
I shrug. "We're not in England so you cannot simply tell me that you found..."
"Well, I found it," he butts in.
I give him a suspicious and wary look. "Yeah right..."
Mark shakes his head. "No. I'm serious, I found it."
A moment of silence passes between us. We stare at each other. My mind is blank as his words sink in to my brain. Suddenly, I let out a sardonic laugh. I keep on laughing until my stomach hurts. I grab my sides as I feel myself tearing up for laughing too hard.
I see Mark's dark, grave look but that does not stop me from my guffaws.
"I'm serious, Hal."
"Those rings are from England. In fact, it's from a fictional book. Let me repeat, a fictional book. You know, something that comes from a person's imagination and mind. Those rings do not exist," I say.
Suddenly, he lounges at me. I think he is going to hit me but instead, he covers my mouth with his hand. A look of fury and annoyance flicker on his face. "Not too loud," he hisses.
I rip his hands off my mouth and glare at him. "What has gotten into your head, Mark?" I almost yell, angry and baffled at the same time. To be honest, I am very disappointed and irked by my brother's foolishness. How can Narnia be real?
Mark looks exasperated and desperate. He shakes his head from side to side and whines. "I'm telling you the truth. I found the rings," he says.
"How did you know that those are the real rings? Have you tried it already?"
I should have known that I will regret that question sooner or later.
You see, my brother seldom smirks. In fact, he always has a serious expression on or a poker face. He only smiles whenever he is so sure of himself or if he knows he is correct. At this moment, his smile tells me he feels both.
"What's that?" I ask
His smile only widens. Without saying another word, he quickly moves towards his closet and rummages through his clothes. Shirts and pants fly everywhere as he digs deeper to the pile of mess. I peer from his shoulder as I wait in abated breath. What if he is being truthful the whole time. I know that my brother is never the type to make up stories so why should he start making one now?
"Mark..." I mutter, sighing. My stomach growls at me.
"Wait. It's here somewhere," he says.
I shake my head. "I don't know what has gotten into you, Mark, but I hope you're on to something. I know you and you're not like the others."
Suddenly, as if I have pressed a switch, Mark freezes. His whole posture seems to have changed in just a blink of an eye. I see his jaw becoming tensed.
Oops. I think I should have not said that.
"I should be asking you the same question," he says.
Oh God why...
He turns around but avoids my eyes. "We've been dreaming for this day, Hal. We have known that it will come sooner or later."
I bit my lower lip. I try hard not to tell him that we were kids back then when we said those things. Kids always run wild with their imagination. And now that we're older, I'm sure we have learned from our childish, stupid dream.
Apparently, Mark hasn't.
"Mark, don't be so melodramatic," I joke, lightly punching him at his arm.
He shakes his head from side to side. "I'm your bestest buddy, right?"
I laugh. What's with all this drama about? "You know what, you're just hungry," I tell him.
"Nah, you go ahead."
I cock my head to one side. "Aren't you hungry?"
"No, I'm not."
"Are you sure?"
He nods.
"Are you REALLY REALLY sure?"
"Just get out," he mumbles.
I cringe at such rambunctious and alien words. Mark never kicks me out of his room. And I never kick him out of mine either. Thoroughly enraged by his irritation, I stomp out of the room without saying another word.
How I loathe my brother...
:
Another dinner with no brother around...Great.
Mom and Dad do not need to ask where my brother is. They already know that he doesn't want to eat with us, yet again. I wonder how he survived the many days confined in his own room. I never see him sneak out of his room to steal a bite. It is summer and yet he has no intentions of having fun outside.
Unless Mark goes somewhere every day...somewhere magical and somewhere no one knows exists.
I snap myself out of my thoughts, knowing too well that I might get a bit sentimental if I continue to wallow on the subject. I merely swallow my food without tasting it. I am too upset with my brother's peculiar actions.
Well, if he is just trolling you, he should have given up by now.
I roll my eyes at my inner voice. I never like listening to my psyche.
"So how's Mark?" mom asks.
I shrug, poking the piece of roll with my fork.
She cocks her head to one side. "But I just heard the two of you talking inside his room..."
Instinctively, I slam both hands on top of the table. That immediately shut my mom up. Evidently, I'm still pissed by Mark's rudeness and strangeness. He is so sensitive. He's girlier than I am.
"I take that you don't want to talk about it," Dad muses.
I shoot him a glare.
"Oooookay," mom says.
Both my parents become silent and it stays that way the whole dinner time.
Later that night, I find myself in the solace of my insomnia. I toss and turn, searching for a comfortable spot on my bed in the hopes that it might lull me to sleep. My pillows are battered by my fists until they are as flat as a paper but still my scumbag brain is forcing me to wake up. Whenever I find myself almost drifting off to lala land, I find myself awaken by a different thought: Mark.
He must be really hungry right now.
I shake my head. Stop worrying about him, Hal. He's old enough too after himself.
And to know better that fiction books are not real.
Thanks, inner voice, for reminding me.
I sigh. This is no good. Mark may be an idiot but he's no liar. Maybe I'm starting to sound like an old woman. Just the very thought of it disgusts me. I slowly roll out of my bed making as little noise as I can.
In the midst of my quiet exit, I stub my toe at my wardrobe. A string of curses spills out of my mouth as my toe throb painfully.
Note to self: Move wardrobe further away from the door.
Half limping and hopping, I step out of my room and stride across the dark corridor. The good thing with having our rooms only across each other's is that I do not have to endure the eerie darkness of the empty hallway in the middle of the night.
Too scared to wait in the dark, I open the door to Mark's room without bothering to knock. I'm certain that he won't kill me...just yet. "Hello?" I say, bracing myself for the worse.
No one answers.
Baffled, I step inside the quiet room and call out for my younger brother, but to no avail, I receive no response. I close the door behind me, leaving behind the darkness. I am surprise his curtains are not drawn. It's a good thing his whole room is lighted up because of the moon light. It helps me locate his bed quickly.
Silently, I approach his bed.
"Mark?"
Still, the silence mocks me.
"Mark?" I repeat.
Standing over his bed, I scrutinize the bump under his covers. There are no signs of movements which I find very odd.
Leaning forward, I call out his name despite of the dread that keeps on creeping to me.
A part of me knows that he is not there anymore but another part of me chooses to ignore that feeling.
Finally, I pull the covers away only to find a pile of pillows in the middle of an empty bed. A cry of despair and disbelief escapes my lips. This is not good. I immediately run out of the room and straight to the kitchen, hoping that Mark is down there somewhere, sneaking in a few snacks.
I switch on the lights and find it empty, too. I groan and run back to his room without bothering to turn off the lights in the kitchen.
WHERE THE HECK IS THAT KID?
A string of curses flies out of my mouth as I rummage through his things. He is searching for something inside his closet. Maybe I can find something that might give me a hint to where he is.
Of course you know where he is, my conscience tells me.
Shush, inner voice. I don't want to listen to you right now.
I lay my hand on Mark's pair of old, unwashed jeans. Even if I question its sanitary, I ram my hand inside its pockets. It is empty. I throw the horrible thing away and continue with my search. I check every pocket of every shirt or pants I can get. All were empty.
He did say he found a ring not rings.
I groan out in frustration. Maybe he used the ring to get to Narnia.
Listen to yourself, Hal.
I roll my eyes. I hate you, inner voice. When will you ever shut up?
Defeated, I throw myself to his bed. I let out a long, tired sigh and close my eyes. To be perfectly honest, I have no idea if I should believe Mark, right now. Obviously, he's nowhere in sight. Maybe he is in Narnia right now, laughing at me. Or he is just trolling me. Either way, he's gone and I don't know where the heck he is. Mom and dad are going to kill him...and probably I'll be dragged along with him.
I am in deep trouble. What if Mark's stuck in a shady business? It's almost midnight and he's missing.
Ring. Ring. Narnia. Narnia. Get the picture?
Irked beyond words, I jump out of my bed and start walking back and forth. Can it be true? Can Narnia be real? Then, does that mean Lucy lived? Edmund? Peter? Susan? ASLAN?!
Just the thought of it makes me ridiculously giddy. That will be so cool...and frightening. If Narnia is real, then there is a very vast possibility that Hogwarts also exists.
Listen to yourself. You're sounding more and more foolish and delusional.
"You better show up, Mark, or I'm going to kill you," I mutter under my breath.
As I am about to leave the room, something shiny catches my attention. I stop on my tracks and squint my eyes a little to get a better look. Yes, it is definitely very shiny. I step back and slowly approach the half-concealed object that has successfully caught my attention. The unknown, glistening thing is half-covered with Mark's shirt. I carefully lift the shirt off the object and a gasp instantly spills out of my lips.
There, lying innocently on top of a pile of shirt, is the shiniest, most beautiful ring I have ever seen. Just the sight of it makes my fingers itch. I want to touch it to check if it's even real. It's too surreal.
No. Do you remember what killed the cat?
Yes, yes. Curiosity killed the cat. Of course. How can I forget?
It is then that I realize my hands are slowly inching towards the yellow ring. I hastily withdraw my hands.
Remember what happened to Polly?
Yes, yes. She got herself transported in another dimension.
Good.
But I'm not a cat and I don't even give a damn.
Without warning, I grab the ring and let myself in for a ride. I guess I have nothing to lose.
You do know that you need the green ring to get to Narnia, right?
Oops...
I'm so sorry for the abrupt ending. After all, this is just an experiment. Just tell me what you think. D