So this is the start of a series that I've been planning for a while, this particular story is not a reader x but I had fun testing out the whole spirit thing. ^-^ The next ones will be mostly reader x s but enjoy this one and tell me who you want me to write about next. Trust me- I've got loads of storylines ready! ;)
The spirit animal's series: Regal Lion
"Il leone è una creatura ancora dignitosa grande. Sono sorprendentemente facile fraintendere..."
You move your hand out in front of you, swaying it slightly as if searching for something in the air. Everything around you is silver and your whole vision pulsates as if you are about to faint; but you don't, you never do. A peaceful feeling of emptiness floods your body, it makes you feel like you are floating- you are floating! No, you're flying! Faster and faster and higher and higher until- the monsters appear… slashing and shrieking… but…
Those soft golden eyes.
"Gah…"
A dull ache spreads across your right side indicating the amount of time you have been on the floor. You keep your head buried in the short fibres of your carpet, groaning, fully aware of the blotchy marks they are leaving on your face. You even tried going to bed earlier last night but the strange and tiresome dreams continue to persist; they're always similar- they always make you feel like you're on top of the world.
They make you feel tired too.
You groan again with your body still shaking and your fingertips buzzing: tired -as If you've had no sleep at all. Perhaps I can slip back into bed and snatch a few minutes more sleep-
*Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!*
Yep, today will be a great day, I'm sure….
One foot in front of the other
That's the first thought that comes to your head as you begin your trek to the school. After checking that the door is locked you stumble down the concrete steps and onto the pavement, brushing some of your hair in front of your face to hide the glowing red mark on your right cheek.
Carpet hurts.
You are so tired that you really do have to think about getting each foot in front of the other.
That sounds like something your dad would've said.
You almost just cry at the thought: your dad passed away about two years ago. It was shortly after your mum left and you were sure he died of a broken heart- you blame her for his death. Although by that time it was as if he were dead already, a long shot away from his usual, bouncy, lovable self. Before she left, your dad would always be in the kitchen, he loved cooking- it was the only thing he would wake up early for! He never acted his age and would make people laugh all the time; you would probably laugh if you were just in the same room as him, he had that effect on people. And his eyes, they were the colour of honey…
How could mum just leave him? She packed her bags, opened the door and left him, left me, left us. Alone, broke, sad. Then… He got ill, it all happened so fast- he was there and then he was gone; he left me too.
And here you are, living with your uncle Rory in a part of town that sees as many police cars as it does rats.
And that was when the dreams started.
Maybe you need some time to clear your head before the catastrophic, frantic, chaos of another day at school. Decided, you turn left down a slightly less shabby street; despite the flaked paint, abundance of junk and general sense of depression- it seems nicer down here. Why?
Then you put your finger on it: trees fill the gaps between buildings.
It's amazing how a bit of greenery can change a whole neighbourhood.
All of a sudden you come across a park, well, kind of… Actually you come across a pond and a set of swings, but you're not used to living the fancy life anyway!
The pond is what draws your attention: it seems the only pure thing against an area of junk and crime, almost… almost beautiful. You walk over to it crouching by its near bank and inspecting the water- how could it be so clear? A mysterious ripple appears on its surface and spreads to each bank; the pond was circular and about eight meters each way.
Without even realising, you had forgotten about the rest of the world and had spent nearly ten minutes sat on the grass; swishing your finger through the water and watching tiny waves glide their way across the shining surface.
Just stay here a minute longer, then wander off to school, you're good with excuses anyway.
You drag your finger through the water one last time but as the ripple starts it brings with it a mysterious sliver light, entrancing... But where is it coming from? You turn and glance behind you for a second but upon looking back at the pond you notice that the light is now an orb glowing at the bottom of the pond about a foot below the surface.
You could reach it.
As if you never made the choice at all, you pivot forward onto your knees and lean over the body of water; carefully, you stretch your arm out. The water is tickling the arm of your tee-shirt as you lean forward eagerly.
Centimetres away.
You see that the light is pulsating- just like the one in your dreams- and your hand- stretched out in front of you, searching for something not in the air, but the water! Suddenly you jerk forwards, losing your balance and flying headlong into the water. Floating… Flying!
Sinking.
You gasp under the water and cover your mouth, choking and struggling. Wasn't the pond only a foot deep? Now you look up and see the surface slipping away, the faint glimmer of sunlight fading, your lungs heavy and tense. Franticly you scream clawing upwards but achieving nothing, then you realise- You screamed underwater, how could you….
You're not underwater
Silver light; it shakes and waves, dappled by contorted shadows that have no origin. You throw your arms backwards to steady yourself but feel nothing there.
"(Name)"
You hear a soft voice, that voice… It is calm but energetic at the same time, a high voice but still male, a strong accent but still easy to understand, a distant voice but still audible.
"Shhh…" It continues gently and you know that it is coming from behind you so turn your head; you gasp and feel as if you're drowning again, as in front of you stands no less than a regal lion. Its body is not bulky but sleek and refined- like that of a cat's- and his fur shines bright amber. His mane- on the other hand- is darker, shaggy and curled, twisting around his face and stopping at his chest which is poised and alert. He stands with his nose high and his eyes closed. Regal lion.
"My name," he chimes "Is Veneziano Vargas."
Your eyes widen.
"And I will keep the bad dreams away."
It is then that he opens his eyes and you feel them strike you like thunder, golden and wide; no, not thunder- honey: they are sweet. But all too soon he begins to fade and the once calm silver, streams downwards like a waterfall around you; but it is you soaring upwards. You desperately want to speak but tears well in your eyes and all you can do- as you move further and further away- is reach out.
So there you lay, sobbing into the grass- completely dry but tears making your skin damp. Today, you had seen what you were sure was Veneziano's spirit. Today, for the first time in two years you saw your dad.
And you never had bad dreams again.
*Phew* intense ^^'
"Il leone è una creatura ancora dignitosa grande. Sono sorprendentemente facile fraintendere..."
"The lion is a grand and dignified creature. But they are also very misunderstood…"
Well, thanks for reading and tell me who I should write about next
(I also love reviews and critiques .)