ENCHANTMENT PASSING THROUGH
BY JOANNA SETA
chapter one: FEELING THE RAIN
She folded the salmon coloured gear, placing it carefully underneath the impeccable navy blue uniform, her hands coming to rest on her lap in wild abandon afterwards. Sadness filled the intense blue depths of her eyes, their once bright fire now a weak lingering flame in comparison to what it had been eons ago – void of sanity, even, as they scrutinized the lonesome room.
She had chosen not to turn on the lights of the over orderly space, allowing darkness to settle upon its industrial and geometrical shapes as dusk slowly crept through the stainless glass of the room's only, though large, window.
She welcomed the darkness. It gave the quarter a twisted sense of personality – made it hers in the dark, whereas she had been never able to identify herself with it in light; made her experience a growing rare feeling of belonging.
She heard a gentle rustling of leaves outside her window-- two, three... more rustling sounds. She sat there paralysed, mesmerized – she wouldn't have been able to move for dear breath.
And then it began to rain on the other side of the glass.
And at this time she wished she still had the power of mind to imagine herself as the young child Alice, to see herself being pulled by invisible hands into the crazy, unexpected world of the Other Side of the mirror glass.
But no. Entranced by the smouldering sound of tiny, but violent, droplets against the thin barrier between her and the outside world – between sanity and wilderness – she dared not to tear her gaze from the sheer fury and strength cascading down the glass as if enraged it couldn't get through.
Respect. Fear. Envy. Attraction.
Such were the feelings she experienced, though the rain seemed oblivious to the terror it welled inside her little heart. Even so, her heart tore through her unmoving body with such ferocity that she wondered briefly if its intensity wouldn't succeed in bothering the rain's eerie presence.
But no. The rain raged on, angry – she was sure – for not being able to break into her deathly silent quarters. It respected no one, it feared no one, it envied no one, it was attracted to no one, but nevertheless showered those feelings upon those weaker than it. It was strong. And powerful. And wasted no time in taking away the lives of those who defied it at it might, which it so proudly exhibited.
Just like she did. To everyone. Including herself.
She cast her gaze downwards ashamedly – she hadn't expected that line of thought to stir up so quickly – blonde silk cascading loosely upon her shoulders and down her bare back as two golden locks rolled to shadow her frail porcelain features, as if out of pure habit, and curled around the soft curves of her breasts. She exhaled deeply, not having noticed that she had been drinking in the air for the length of that small observation, closing her eyes in a futile attempt to clear the thundering turmoil of her heart.
A sob caught itself in her throat.
Oh, yes. She did have feelings, for as much as she – and everyone else for that matter – tried to deny them. She fingered the rimmed lapels of the jacket she had been wearing since her late youth with an apologetic sigh.
And maybe – just maybe – she was afraid to die.
Author's notes: I guess I haven't written in a really long time and I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who would rather see me finishing The Eighth Fantasy's first book than start a new story altogether. But I've been terribly obsessed in reading Quiefers and, well, after the first thirty, it's natural I began to grow ideas of my own. So here: this is a stand-alone story with few chapters starring the song Enchantment Passing Through from Elton John and Tim Rice's AIDA. I'm really sorry this chapter is so short, but it's the easiest way for me to update sooner. Hope you enjoyed!