Sorry for the wait,but I haven't been in a writing mood for quite some time.Sea of Masks chapter to follow,but I'm "not promisin' nothin'".
OKay,this is kinda old,dates back to the late 2006,before I had written my One-shots.I've got to say,this is one of my favourite texts,but don't blame me if it sounds crappy.It was written at 3 am in the backseat of a car from England to France.And I was tired.And next to dead with boredom.
P.S:Thanks to my devoted reviewers!
A group of young children are playing in a square outside an immense castle made of what seems to be white marble. Other people are in the square, mostly for the market there today, there are several stalls selling fruit, vegetables and, attracting the most attention, a large array of crystals in all shapes, colours and sizes. From great sculptures in real height to tiny pendants and charms.
One of the children, a boy, calls a name, which makes another, not playing but sat to one side, look up. He brushes pale hair out of his eyes as the boy says,
"Jareth, what're you doing? Reading, no doubt. You're just so boring!"
He laughs and the other children follow suit, including some of the girls who sit and play their own games.
The boy called Jareth blushes and looks back down, his hair falling in front of his face again. He wasn't reading, but examining something he held in his hands.
The boy, clearly the leader of the group, walks over to him and snatches it away, and holds it up. Jareth's trying to grab it back, but to no avail.The thing that he had was a crystal, perfectly round and clear, like a ball.
"Awww does ickle Jarret want his crystal back?" he mocks
"Stop it, give it back!" cries Jareth, but they were laughing again.
"Want to play with the girlies, Jareth?" The girls have smaller crystals in their laps, mostly pale pastel colours and shaped like dolls or statuettes.
"No!!" says Jareth miserably, his bottom lip quivering and mismatched eyes shining with tears.
The children taunt him further, saying over and over "Jareth plays the girl games!" and "Jareth likes crystals!"
Despite the humiliation, he hardens and narrows his eyes at the boy. Instantly, the crystal flashes and the frightened boy drops it. When it touches the ground, the crystal changes into something white, an owl, then there's a barn owl screeching and tearing at the boy. He screams and holds his arms up to protect his face, the other children are shouting too. Amid it, Jareth is speechless. He did that. He doesn't know how but knows that he did. Blinks and the owl vanishes as soon as it appeared. He looks down; there's the crystal, he picks it up and looks at the boy.
Blood.
His arms are torn, blood streaming from the cuts, and his face is nonetheless scratched. He's crying, not able to move his arms for fear of the pain flaring up again. He winces pitifully, the salt in his tears stinging the scratches on his cheeks.
The children are shouting still, but now in anger.
Jareth, scared, runs from the crowd of adults now trying to help the boy. He ducks to avoid the low hanging branches from the trees on the outskirts of town, and stops when he's out of earshot. Slumping to the ground, he stares, stonyfaced, at a small bird nest in a pine tree. How he can tell this to his parents, he doesn't know.