There are new words now that excuse everybody. Give me the good old days of heroes and villains. the people you can bravo or hiss. There was a truth to them that all the slick credulity of today cannot touch.
Bette Davis (1908 - 1989), The Lonely Life, 1962
Chapter Ten
The next few hours were spent in a pleasant sort of lucid-madness, a madness I could identify, but enjoy at the same time. I wondered, and hoped, that it wasn't anything permanent. Being mad is an enjoyable past time, but it gets scary quickly enough.
Every single one of my memories became razor-sharp. I felt like I could fit everything into my mind, that everything, everywhere, had a place into which it fit, and suddenly all the moral quandaries and the fears and doubts and trying-to-be's melted away like candle wax. Everything made so much sense.
Unfortunately, I felt myself coming back to the world of the mundane, slowly, slowly. I figured madness was a lot more holy than bland sanity could ever be.
I remembered, in this slow waking-up, a random memory, a memory that was sad and happy at the same time. I couldn't have been more than three or four years old. I was out in the driveway, blowing bubbles. I blew them one at a time, fascinated at the reflections. It was a world of color, complete and beautiful, warped and strange. But when it came time for the bubble to die, the colors went black and white, or sepia. The rebellious air broke the delicate membrane in its desperate ploy to get free, and it shattered each little world.
So I tried to save them. I caught them on my bubble wand, keeping them close, trying to make them last, but the more I did this, the quicker they popped. The harder I tried to hold on and save, the quicker they came to an end, but when they flew free, up, and away…
I frowned, looking up as the door swung open. It was Raven. She started to talk, but it was cotton in my ears. I nodded numbly, and eventually she realized I wasn't listening. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Fucking drama queens." She muttered irritably, and moved away, down the hallway, leaving the door ajar.
Apparently, my status had changed.
Author's Note: Yeah, sorry for the delay and the short chapter. I promise more soon! Just been doin' my homework and dealing with not-so-enjoyable people every day. Exhausting.