Chapter 2: How what is, came to be. (Among other things)
I crept silently, like a lioness stalking her prey, poised, ready to fight. My eyes locked on my prey. I glided, ready to pounce gracefully.
Instead of pouncing gracefully, I jumped - rather like a one-legged frog - and landed flat on my face, staring up at the frown of my mother. Damn, I cursed my human father for giving me his clumsy ways - I certainly didn't get my balance problems from my mother.
I know that at almost one-hundred years old, I shouldn't be afraid of my mother, but I am. I'm not really that afraid of my mother. I mean, she doesn't secretly beat me or anything, but I wanted to ask her a question. A pivitol one, yet I just couldn't.
I am such a wuss, I thought.
The truth is that I'm bored. All I do every day (or night- it's hard to tell with no sun) is tell people what door to take to the afterlife. It's boring. No, more than boring.
It's mind numbing. So mind-numbingly boring, I would rather watch paint dry. There's only so many times you can read 'Pride and Prejudice' before you no longer have to read it, because you know all the words by heart. That's what I fill my spare time with: reading. It helps pass the hours of my lonely existence.
That's the other problem; I'm lonely. The only people I interact with are the dead. That CANNOT be healthy.
I digressed, sorry. So, I land in front of my mother after practically flying through the air like a demented...animal-thing. You get the idea!
"Bella, what are you doing?" asks my mother, kindly, yet concerned. I think she worries I have mental health problems.
"Nothing," I say as the dark guilt crawls over me again, coupled with its lover, shame.
"Bell's, what's wrong...You can talk to me. You know that, right?" she asks, her soft, hesitant tone of voice filling me with more shame.
"Yeah, I know. I'm fine, just..uh...nothing. I have to go...eat." And with that lame excuse, I swiftly made my exit.
I am such a wuss, I think again.
X&X&X&X&X&X&X&X& (time lapse)
"Bella."
Great, I think sarcastically, now she's worried about me.
I run to my mother's room, and hide - get this brilliant idea - under her bed. I was under pressure! My and I both have beds, even though we don't sleep. Why? They're extremely comfy, and the ones that move are extremly fun.
"Bells...? Bella, I saw you come in here!" I heard her move around the room a bit, looking for me before she stopped and sat on the bed.
"You know, this reminds me of when you were small. You would always run and hide when you were scared. Or upset. So, what's wrong sweetie?"
I crawled out from under the bed, with a frown glued to my face.
"It's nothing" I mumbled pathetically.
My mother - who is extremely strong although very petite - pulled me into a hug and murmered, "I'm not buying it. Tell me what's wrong."
"I'm just...I dunno..restless? I can't help but think that maybe...there's more...for me." I sighed and folded my arms, thinking about how stupid that just sounded.
"I'm sorry, honey. I should have noticed sooner. I've just been so busy, and there's a war on..." my mother trailed off. I got it, I really did, and I wasn't mad.
She has to do what she has to do. I just sometimes wish she'd more of a mother, and less an ominous spirit, representing the unknown. It gets old after a while,
especially when you feel like just lazing on the sofa with some ice-cream and a chick flick with your mom.
"It's okay Mom, I get it, I do. I shouldn't have brought this up. I just had one stupid errant thought!" After all, it was that desire that made me want to ask, that persuaded me to ask...then chickened out when it got tough. Personally, I blame the guilt.
"What thought?" I groaned and buried my head in my hands.
"Nothing"
"No, tell me"
"I was just thinking a change of scenery..maybe."
"Ah."
After a minute of my usually bubbly mother being solemnly silent, I raised my head in concern. She had a thoughtful look on her face. She also looked slightly pained.
It was then I knew two things. First, she had figured me out completely. Second, I caused that look of pain, and I instantly felt regret for hurting my almost childlike mother.
"Just forget it Mom, it was a stupid thought and-"
She cut me off and said, "I think we'd better call Maria." And got up to get the phone.
Maria - like the nun from 'the sound of music', or the Blondie song - gets stuff for us. My books, our furniture, even our cable! She's part of a really old family, whose heritage dates back to sometime in the twelfth century. Every eldest female possesses 'the gift'.
Basically, they can cross over, but do not die, just get extremely freaked out. 'The gift' was discovered by my mother sometime in the thirteenth century and an aliance was formed. For money and the like, they helped my mother, and later us, out. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but my mother has a tendency to accidentally...kill things after being in the human world for a littlewhile. We have to watch that.
As a small child, I begged my mother endlessly to hear the story of how Maria's VERY great grandmother and she met. Elizabeth (the very great grandmother) fainted, and got the shock of her life when she ended up in a gloomy forest, and then Death's personal quarters because she was alive, yet in the Realm of Death. (I don't even pretend to understand it completely) After much concentration, Eliza managed to get herself home. It happened several more times, and she found my mother so helpful, they formed a frienship. They became the best of friends, my mother finally having a companion with a pulse and Eliza having someone to confide in and share humerous stories of how her four older brothers terrorized her - out of love, of course.
"Why are you calling Maria?" We only bother her at the end of each month with a list for her.
"To see about getting you set up."
"Set up? With what?"
"Well, we need to get you a home and enrolled in a school if you're going to Earth for a while."
Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z&Z (end)
AN I'm sorry this is so late, it was awful of me, but I kind of lost my way, and got really impatient wanting to 'get to the good stuff'. Sorry, I hope you all forgive me, if not, hopefully this chapter makes up for it. As always, thanks for reading and an even BIGGER thanks for reviewing.
Also, Marie, you rock you awesome hobo you.