A/N: This is a true story, I went on the bus once, and an old woman was exactly like Lena in this story. I couldn't help but write from her prespective. R&R.
I feel their filthy eyes all over me, touching every piece of my cold body. Damn them. Damn them to hell. I scream for them to stop staring- they won't- those filthy, filthy humans. I tell them how my Mistress, Miss Lemwa burned my hands on the stove when I didn't do what she said. They laugh. Every three minutes, the bus would stop to let on more scum.
Pure, fresh, delicious faces step on and off this bus. They seem shocked by my screaming. They don't understand. They will never experience pain. My pain. A girl sits next to me, young, innocent, tasty. They warn her, but I say to her, "When I was your age my people was slaughtered before my eyes, my mother, my sister, everyone. All at once. Their blood turned the lagoon red. You did it. You. You slaughtered them." The girl turned pale in fright, she stood up swiftly and sat next to an old man instead. I set my eyes on an blonde woman. Directly opposite me. It was her.
I recoil in my seat, my old eyes wide, "You kept me locked up for 240 years!" A burst of laughter came from the woman, looking down at me. "Oh, really?" I frown at her, her deep accent was gone, nontheless it WAS her. I can never forget that smug face. I can never forget those sharp cat eyes.
"You wretched woman! You made me hold fire by every small mistake I made. You didn't kill me only because you'd be alone. I wish I died in the lagoon, rather than live two centuries with you!" She rolled her eyes, "You're crazy." she turned her back to me, as my mouth began moving, cursing her in my long forgotten language.
She chuckled , as another passenger pluck up the courage to speak, "Oh shut up, will you?"
I snap my head back, "You mocking me? You hore!" The woman who spoke understood that insult, she shrieked insults back. I ignore, knotting my hands around my purse, wrinkled, pale, veins popping out from the skin.
I speak to my audience, the scum. "I used to be so beautiful, my charm brought men… lure them in." I turn wildly to the new face next to me, "You think I'm ugly, don't you? Well, as soon as the harvest moon arrives, I'll be good as new…" The scum had lost interest in me now, jabbering about television, fashion and gossip. "This race was once pure, now so sinful, so filthy. My people are dead! They either drowned or ripped apart by the crocodiles… curse those pirates…" I raise my voice, "You're all like those pirates! Like those people who managed to kill us… Miss Lemwa… Turned to dust… dead…." I trail off, tears escaping from my hazel eyes. People scramble off the bus, complaining about the mad woman who spoke of pirates and cats. As old faces leave. New faces enter. Always shocked to the mad woman talking to herself. They kept their distance, yet still listened. "Those people… the reporter… the cameraman… that dog." I say to myself, seeing those filthy faces appear in my mind. I almost forgot those faces once, but not now. I remember, I will always remember.
"As soon as the harvest moon comes, I'll have my revenge." I see familiar surroundings blur past through the bus window. My stop. I shuffle off, my purse tight in my long fingers. My cracked mouth rips open a smile. Until the harvest moon.