Disclaimer: When I look upon the moon – I hear the crying of the wolf; when I see the midnight rain – I can hear the wolf cry – I see the world changing – I see "paradise". I also see blurry lines and then my room and – oh – it was a dream. A dream, that I actually owned Wolf's Rain – too bad that I must make an alternate story to put its extraordinary characters – I hope the story turns out right.
Lunar Prophecy - The beginning
Between the places of the naturally pink she saw red and it created a unique effect. It was because of this reason she carried on painting her lips with a very thick red lipstick. It made her seem presentable in a unique way and she decided to paint more on her lips. It seemed very agreeable and it wasn't very decisive, the matter of painting the lips, so she was enjoying it. It was against rules wearing makeup – her rules – it protested against the natures of her normality; that was already very sickly to her reflections. She couldn't even put on a desiring pinch and though strawberries on lips are tasteful to others' eyes she really couldn't be satisfied with it. Her features allowed only a thin solubility of the beauty of such things. She seemed to consider herself to be curse to this pale mannequin perfection which some actually envied and desired. She couldn't like it; wouldn't like it – she cannot be happy with this mannequin physique.
She seemed to herself a doll.
She wiped the lipstick off. She was disappointed. She was disgusted. Not only at the attempt to put on the lipstick but because…because she looked like Snow White.
Snow White
When she thought of it, the "it" seemed so surreal that it felt like a grinning Cheshire cat. She was comparing herself Snow White? It was not doubtful that she should. Her white skin of paleness created a snowy mirror and on it laid the smeared red lips as the bloodstained knife. Yes, she could have made a Snow White and that is why a year ago it was a decision of their drama teacher to make her into his Snow White for the school's production. She had declined quite distantly. She may have the paleness, the red lips naturally but the night-grown hair; that is something she didn't have.
She tangled her whitish-purplish-sky-blue trends and somewhat marveled her unnaturally alluring hair.
Then she detested it.
It made her an outcast and also a popular.
She was very nicely split as a mixed personality. Never to be fully normal or fully bizarre – but more bizarre than the normal; it's the paradoxical comedy from destiny.
Cheza then decided to finally get dressed for school.
-w-
' So Cheza what did you do last night?' her best friend asked her quite absently as she actually submitted her eyes to her manga volume and Cheza peered in with curiosity and scanned along with her.
'…study' it was as absent and monotonous as her best friend's way of speaking. She was tempted to say that the lipstick she took from her worked slightly well but as with all makeup she wasn't really bothered due to her awkward complexion but she wasn't really bothered into telling this either.
It seemed as a private moment to where she differentiated herself – again.
' You do that too often.' The best friend finally looks up but Cheza does not follow the leading action and starts whispering some of the manga's dialogues to herself as she also noted the fact that they were particularly fashioned and brilliant.
' I know…but…its ok…I'm cool…' she was doing the lines and speaking in collaboration and now her friend was to be curious and so she stared hoping the eyes could knock the door of Cheza's mind but it was fruitless as Cheza kept on muttering.
' Hey Albino snap out of it.' It was with a sort of a cry and strand pulling that her friend found Cheza's mind managed as she yelled in irritation and pushed the hand aside and looked very irritatingly at her best friend.
' Leera, stop that nonsense…besides…' she spoke more quietly after her annoyance, ' I told you I'm not albino…' it was sadly done with a sigh-sort release as if it were a offensive doing that was to be never done.
Leera, understanding her mistake as Cheza's best friend, got also in a grim mood releasing Cheza's sadness and embraced her – though they were actually seated on opposite chairs, ' Sorry Cheza – I was just joking please don't take it to hear girl.'
' I'm sorry I get a bit upset…' she was explaining quietly with a sense of importance of great invariable delicacy, ' Those girls who don't like me – didn't like me when I was younger teased me frequently by saying I am a foolish, abnormal albino… it really was messed up I wonder if I am really that different.'
' Yes you are.' It was the unnatural nature of the answer that baffled Cheza to a height unnamable and she infinitely stared awaiting the answer that seemed to be the reasonable evidence to why she was so different. It came softly with appreciation, ' You are different for you are beautiful both inwardly and outwardly in a very uncommon fashion. I believe Cheza that you look exactly like a flower – ah yeah a white rose!'
' A flower…' she looked at her hands her tones quizzically soft, ' … a white rose…or something else…'
' You are doing it again.' Leera teased.
' Huh…huh…what doing what?' Cheza seemed too fascinated with her hands and her quest for that suspicion of that "something else" that Leera had to laugh at her alarm.
' I mean that you're daydreaming…it feels you go away somewhere else…' Leera giggled and explained but stopped as she saw Cheza's Sweet wine-eyes look too deep.
' …away…somewhere…somewhere else…but where…?...where will I find you….?' She was focused on nothing.
' …Cheza…' Leera was worriedly shaking her friend who seemed cast out and flung to another dimension.
' …paradise…paradise is waiting…' Cheza spoke too softly and Leera seemed afraid of her behavior had removed her arms – in a moment Cheza's eyes shone bright fantastically and her pink eyes flashed while she seemed to look at a yellow beam of light being channeled by a black structure next to the moon and soon her eyes turn red.
Then everything exited.
She breathed and panted. She was cast out to this sight that she wasn't familiar with.
' …Cheza…are…are…you…alright…?' Leera felt disbelief and fear and soon she got her friend's face and noticed that everyone in the class (which was without supervision) was looking at Cheza. They had seen the flash.
Cheza broke out of the suspension and heard the mutters and whispers.
What was happening to her? Insanity: in the form of paradise?
That was too dangerous.
-w-
' What happened?' it was sunset – they were up on the roof and she seemed distant and Leera noticed and it couldn't be more conspicuous than it already was. Cheza looking out endlessly at the farewell-sky of intense pinks, oranges, reds and tinges of purplish-blue – that signaled the start of the lullaby – the epitome of night. Was she night? With her purplish-blue-white strands – her hair was its own sky and she permitted no beautiful stars. Was she a dismal layer? One to remain in the oblivions of both night and day, what would happen? If she could correct it she would, she wished it would be simpler as the red lipstick with the ease wiping giving it riddance but as the sky it was difficult. Pinks, oranges and reds are easy to remove as the blood, veins and flesh of a mortal body but the purple, white and blue were the very soul of the sky and thus must never be effaced.
I wonder what my blues, purples and whites are. Cheza thought intently with a conscious focus, Aside from my hair of course, this albino origin of mine that unnerves me to fear and diabolical calculations; is this real? My life – is it meant to be real? Like this, can it be like this – as lonesome as a lonesome wolf without a pack – wandering around to search for his paradise – wolf? Paradise? What is this? What am I saying? Who are you – the same voice that sometimes talks to me? You are there aren't you – in that place called paradise – what is this stupid thing called paradise? Why are you so willing to seek it endlessly? I hate you for making me think about this useless chimera. – ' I don't know, exactly, I have a very hypnotic daydream. Correction, daydreams that make me wander off entirely into my own planet. I'm sorry I scared you today – it really won't happen again. I can guarantee it.'
' No.' it was the denial that made Cheza's distant face become closer to Leera's, ' You can't guarantee it.'
' What happened to the days when you use to trust me?' it was rudely said by the other which was never normal to her. It was a certain devastation that supplied it. Trust no longer stood between them then…what was there?
' They are still around.' She looked away now to the sunset's orchestra and couldn't imagine of her prior negligence to it but Cheza grew in her rooted impatience, but it was delicate nervousness rather than full vehemence, ' But you were never good at lying. You are always still trying to be honest to yourself and honest to everyone else. Continue it and I might have to call you Miss goody-two-shoes.'
She just sighed as Cheza knew she should sigh due to the honesty of detection. She couldn't run amok forever in the misty roads of parallel answers until one day you tread to the clear path with no parallel; only truth. Universally walking and very potent in its alliance with destiny – you must surrender. And surrender she had fruitfully.
' But,' Leera could see the tension and finally spoke out her opinions about it, ' I think you aren't Miss goody-two-shoes. I think you are just honest. But that "just" seems to carry and help wield itself as a weight of height over that tower or pillar of respect that you carry. It really makes you good. So I'm not sorry that you can't lie and even if you managed I know it has good reasons just like the way you were lying about that episode. God, I'm impressed, it was skilled.'
' You, you didn't know before,' Cheza realized a flicker of a sudden concealed confession that was being let free by its master, ' You didn't know I was lying were you Leera? You just found out a few seconds ago, when you answered me? How?'
' It's a secret.' Leera smiled as she closed her eyes and Cheza pushed her noise with her middle finger as if she was trying to trigger a door to that secrecy. She kept doing it for several minutes straight and all Leera did was look at the finger pressing against her noise back and forth as if it were hammer on her noise instead of the fleshy finger and her noise was turning pinkish and she wasn't enjoying it – ' I'm not telling.'
' Oh c'mon.' she pushed Leera's noise very happily as Leera brushed her finger of several times, it was getting disturbingly massive and Leera loathed it, ' Tell me, Tell me, Tell me.' With each command a slightly harder push was given to Leera's over-irritated noise.
' Ok, Ok, Ok – now stop!' Leera protested and surrendered but the torture made it sadistically pleasurable to Cheza who kept on pushing Leera's noise as it was button and she was the cute cartoon character DeeDee, of Dexter's Laboratory, who enjoyed destroying her brother's inventions. The noise is the perfect invention for reaching someone's tolerance point and breaking it, or as Cheza thought until Leera finally told her to cease that silly thing or else she would tickle Cheza until she would puff out as those fish.
Realizing the danger Cheza withdrew.
' Well?' Cheza was the princess of patience though her words were not the usual annoyance.
' You can never lie when you get the view of the sunset. It magnifies your innocence as if its calling out to you.' Leera studied the fluidity of flashed colors of nature's skills – the sunset was the masterpiece all artists crave for.
' Calling out to me – who is calling out to me? Why can't I seem to get away from the call? Someone somewhere is definitely calling me…' Cheza was murmuring with a soft hued shade that overpowered herself and Leera. Her friend must question.
' Cheza?'
' I feel the gravity.'
Author's Note: If you are interested tell me. If you are disgusted tell me. If you are disappointed tell me. Whatever is it you feel: just tell me :)