The inside looked untouched. Dust coated everything with a thin layer of itself. But to my surprise, everything was beautiful. I had always loved older things, I guess you can say vintage. I always loved taking pictures with a polaroid camera, and I always typed my stories on a type-writer. And someday, when I'm a famous and well renounced author, my fans will be envious of my fascination with the older things in life and they too will start becoming more fascinated with them. But this house wasn't vintage. This house was ancient. The chandelere that hung from the ceiling was covered in a webbed twine with small creatures awaiting more prey for them to stun and drink the life out of. Thats the message the house gave to me. I could feel my problems being drained away as I stood mesmerized by this remarkable beauty. I wanted more now. I paced around looking and admiring the objects around the room. I noted a small box embellished with jewels and gold roses, but I wouldn't dare open it. In fact, I didn't dare touch anything at all. The thought of my imperfect touch on one of these pefections, would be a total damnation to a hell of an even worse kind. Now I had been wishing I had actually unpacked and brought my camera. Just that, this house, in all its beauty, would be a subject of many different thoughts. Untouched, and undisturbed. I walked up the stairs, only to enter a corridor full of paintings. Now I had really regretted not bringing a camera. Each painting held its own place of value on the wall it rests upon. One of the ocean, and one of the sky. One of Hades, and one of a meadow. The four elements. The fith painting was the most astonishing, probably because you couldn't see it, which would make you believe that it was far too beautiful for a virgin's eyes, or that it was too hideous. Either way, the cloth draped over it was calling out to be unhooked, beseeching that I reveal the art beneath. My hand trembled as I reached out to just quickly glance underneath the silken curtain. My fingertips grew cold as I barely touched the curtain, causing it to fall to the floor. I stood in awe at the swift sound it made as it hit the floor. And that's when my head brought itself back down to Earth.
There was something wrong with this house, something missing. I notcied how I could only hear my own breaths, panting at my discovery. I looked around, taking a step back. The wood made no sound beneath my feet, it was just there. I huddled my arms to myself, suddenly freezing. I looked around once more, and not even the thin drapes that hung above the windows were moving, so, obviously that couldn't mean I was cold because the house was drafty. My mind wandered prefusly, reminding myself that nothing bad was going to happen. But not even my conscience was prepared for my meraculous conclusion. I looked back to the ground where the silk curtain lay, and my eyes traced their way back up to the painting the silk was protecting.
I became numb. I stared at the painting tentively, not blinking. There were two boys, young, around sixteen. They were both incredibly pale, and they both wore old-fashioned garments. One had a broad face, with black eyes and even blacker hair,cropped short, but he was still mind-blowingly stunning. The other boy, was a picture of perfection. His face was perfectly round in the right spots and his features were all symmetrical. He too had white skin upon longer, more rustled,onyx hair, but he was different.Not only was he mind-blowingly stunning, he was breath-takingly gorgeous. Because, his eyes were a penetrating emerald. .
A feeling of anxiousness went through me, making me stand stiff where my feet were planted. I then knew what the house was missing. This house was hollow, it signed no trace of any human contact, as though it were only built to be there. A house never intended to be lived in, but to be conscience of.
This house was lacking life.
I closed the front door of the giant beauty behind me, taking a much needed breath of air that had life to it. I stumbled down the steps, still drunk off of the experience inside. I began to walk thinking to myself, "What the hell...that wasn't real.." shaking my head in disbelief often.
I heard wake coming from the river around the corner of the row of trees I was in. I stepped out and the sun greeted me by blinding me. I squinted and stared around, taking in every detail around me.
Ecspeacailly the most unexpected.
I peered off into the distance towards the river, where a boy sat kicking his feet in the water. He looked around my age, sixteen or fifteen. I stared at him restlessly, my breaths becoming more patched. I didn't intend on gasping for air after I had forgotten to breathe, and I most certainly did not intend on him hearing me. He froze in his place and the splashing of the water came to a pause. Just as the water stoped flowing between his feet, my blood stopped flowing to my heart,putting me in an immobilized state-of-mind. He turned quickly towards me and his stare was deathening.
A figmant in my view,
Skin as white as ice,
Hair as black as ash.
With a stare that could kill if he held you,
Within the grasp of his penetrating emerald eyes.
I vered in the opposite direction of his glare, and started to run. I couldn't control the tears from overflowing from my eyes like a leaky faucet.
As I ran through the town centre, my face red from the shock and my eyes wet from the reaction, I swear I could here people whisper. Only, these whispers were as loud as screams, shouting right next to my ear, deafening me with their words.
"Newcomer."
I didn't at least once desire to question what had happend today. Nor did I try to make an explanation. When I arrived home I went straight to my room, totally ignoring Brandi and Ike's greeting. I flicked on my light and brought out my charcoal kit. Thankfully, Brandi wasn't totally stupid. Shes the one who finished unpacking for me while I was out on my walk. My thoughts stuttered themselves as I tried my damndest not to replay what had happend.
I soon found myself out of my mind, randomly drawing on the paper with no conscience mind of it. I let my emotions go, and took a deep breath, and just let my body take over. I felt myself reaching out for a new colour, and then going back to my drawing. When I finally became aware enough to stop, I didn't want to believe that what I had just drawn was really there.
Against white paper,
layed a pair of glaring,
hate-filled,emerald green eyes.
My mind came back and I balled the paper up and threw it across the room. I sat there as a stone. I could feel nothing, no blood in my face. I didn't even want to imagine how white I was right now. I arose from my seat staggered, and turned off the light. I layed in my bed and stared at the ceiling.
I wanted to believe that the green tint the light from the moon made the leaves outside my window play against my walls was just a figmant of my imagination.
Green was now a colour of my imagination.
