Maybe it should have been different. Maybe if I'd stumbled in some other direction, I'd be dead, or better yet, happy. Maybe if I'd spoken three words before it was too late, I would never have gone through this. So many maybes in my life... I begin to wonder if I've gone crazy and everything I've suffered, I've suffered only in my mind. It's a strange thought. But not the strangest I've had, or seen, or heard. No, never.
My first memory was of a rose. Always, even when I could barely remember my name, I could remember the rose. It was fuzzy, and a strange golden color, not yellow, but gold. I've never seen another like it, and with good reason. That which created me, my 'Mother', I guess, must have created it... though I still don't know why she of all people would create something so beautiful.
There was a period of time where all I could remember was my name. My name that meant fury, which I'd always thought so strange, for I'd never gotten angry, then. Not even childhood tantrums... I didn't have a childhood. There is a year, lost to me even now, where I wandered across the broad back of a country made to be so small by technology. I never went to school. What I knew had been given to me by a computer; and I'd forgotten even that.
The fog of my mind clears with the first sight of the city. Los Angeles... Hardly the kind of place you'd expect to find someone like me, or so thinks the majority of the human population. But that's home, or one of them. I was terrified out of my wits with a backpack, some clothes, a hat, and a name for possessions and starving, as well. I fled from the city... some twist of fate guided my feet, some magnetic pull that dragged me towards the one place I would come to both hate and love... the second of my homes, or maybe the first. It was called the Adamantine Inn, and as I first sat there, I was amazed at what and who I saw.
Eventually, I ventured from my corner table and wandered over to the least intimidating pair of people. I'd barely gotten their names before I felt strangely weak, and was enclosed by darkness. In truth, I fainted, from hunger, but fainting and passing out seems far more dramatic when it's actually happening to you. At any rate, the two people, who were so very kind, got some food for me... It sticks out in my mind as the first time in my life that anyone was nice to me.
After that, I ventured back to L.A., the city that I was both drawn to and repelled by. Luke, I think his name was, one of the ones who'd helped me, had told me about getting a job... and I looked for one, I really did. The first job I ever did for anyone was carry a birthday cake to a little girl's house. Later, I got a job as an assistant cook, and then a waitress, at two places.
Sleeping outside in a cardboard box in the shelter of an overturned dumpster, waking up before the sun rose to cook and wash the dishes of a small, greasy little Chinese restaurant to earn half the minimum wage an hour, and get some food for my troubles, no, that was never very fun. But that's how my schedule began. Next came the waitress job, at a decent paying cafe, though I was tired before I left for my third job... being a waitress can be good or bad, depending on where you work, and my third job had to have been at one of the worst.
I nearly got raped there, once, though at the time I didn't know what was happening. Some noble soul (not the manager, or anyone else that worked there, I'll tell you that) stopped them, and it was a while before I went back. I had to though, because I wanted a place to live, no matter how small it was.
Eventually, I'd saved enough money, and bought (probably illegally) a tiny, one room apartment. I remember every second of that, the slanting rays of the sun, because the only window faced southwest. A small, two-burner stove, two cabinets, and cobwebs were all that was there to meet me. There was also a flowerbox, outside by the fire escape. Home sweet home.
I stayed there for three months. Eventually, I got a minifridge, and a hammock to sleep on, a lamp, a folding table, two folding chairs. It was such a simple life, however hard, and now I can't help but long for it. Get up, go to work, come home, eat, write, sleep. Repeat. I had made friends with the little girl downstairs, and sometimes, she'd wait at my door for me.
When I was coming home from work, at around nine at night, she was on the floor against the wall, dead, and the door to my apartment was open. Some instinct saved me, then, because I fled, down the stairs, out the door. I knew they were chasing me, though I didn't dare look back, running blindly down the streets, followed by some terrifying force I couldn't see or touch. Out of the city and into the forest, where I could barely run. At one point, I tripped, and fell, twisting my ankle. It was horrible.
They were steadily gaining on me, and when they finally caught up, I suppose I was an easy catch. Maybe I was just a little crazy at the point, because I unsheathed my claws and killed at least one of them before they restrained me and beat me up.
I'm not human, and I've never claimed to be. My claws have always been my greatest weapon, four and a half inches of some special alloy, honed to a cutting edge. Dangerous, in a way, I suppose. I remember very little of that night, and only blurred images can be recalled. I don't know how I escaped, and stumbled into what would become my new home, but when I woke up, I was in the rafters some 300 feet above the ground. Heights have never bothered me, thank god. I was confused and jumpy, and as I slipped down the stairs, I came to recognize the place. The Adamantine Inn, and with more than it's usual five people. In truth, it was a bit crowded, though no one bothered me at my little table.
I'd spotted a boy, someone my age, or about, fiddling with a bunch of gadgets and giving the other patrons weird looks. I remember that so well, and yet who said "Hi" first, I don't remember at all. He went out side, and for some reason, I couldn't say why, I followed. We exchanged names... His was Zazie. Zazie the Beast. An odd name, I suppose, but no odder than mine. Tall, with pale blonde hair, and violet eyes... He seemed like the kind of reckless person one could trust, or that was my impression. He'd probably laugh if he heard it.
It was startling, though, how nice he was to me... or maybe I was too naive to understand niceness and politeness, but he went and got ice for my ankle, and was angry, to a point, when I told him about the people who'd chased me. There it was: my first friend.
I saw him again, after that, and was talking to him when someone else stumbled in... her name was Allegra, and she ignored me, but seemed to know Zazie. I'm not sure if I can write honestly about her, since she took a good part in ruining my life, but she always seemed such a bitch. Cold and cruel to anyone but those she needed things from. Still, she'd had it rough, maybe moreso than I... so maybe I'm the selfish bitch and not her. Later that night, one of the people who had chased and attacked me tried to do it again.
Bam. The first time that Zazie saved my life. Then Allegra collapsed... a battle ensued, where everybody tried to kill Midvalley, and I was half killed by two chairs. No, really. After that, everyone was beat up and no one wanted to move... so everybody fell asleep. I don't remember waking up. But I remember what happened just after.
They came for me. Right there, in from of Zazie, Allegra, and someone else I don't know. And the next few weeks were a hell I'm not going to try and describe right now. Suffice it to say that they left me mostly dead, clawed to tiny bits, and bleeding. I remember wondering if anyone would come for me, finally losing hope, collapsed in a ring of boulders half in and half out of the lake. Wondering what it would be like to die, knowing what I knew.
Someone did come, though. Picked me right up, and I know I thought it was one of them, come to finish my off... I struggled a little, thought once I realized who had saved me once again, I stopped. Laying on the couch, confused, sad, weary, that's when it started. I could never have known better. I can't be put to blame... It wasn't my fault.
The next time I saw Zazie, he was getting drunk and high, sickened with an emotion that I didn't know then, one that would eventually take over my heart and mind. I realize now that all I ever was to him was a friend... but those few moments, the thing that had been born inside me grew.
Until all hell broke loose. Even as I curse his name, whatever it was, I can't help but pity him and his fate. Still, he stabbed Zazie for shooting him... Allegra turned into a giant bird and carried him away, with Nick following behind. I remember the look she gave me... even then, she thought I was trying to 'steal' Zazie from her. She left me there to deal with the evil man myself, which was hard, because, though I had one of my friend's guns, it only had three bullets left. He lifted me by my neck, and I shot those three final bullets. Energy gathered in his palm, ready to destroy my body, and the world.
For a third time Zazie saved my life. He used his ability to control animals to bring up some kind of monster, which took most of the blow. I stumbled into the inn and collapsed, and Midvalley ended up saving my life a second time, for which I am still thankful.
That period of time was dull and unhappy, the next still unhappier. I'd clipped my other rose earing to Zazie's sleeve as Allegra took him away, a goodbye present, I though at the time. I neevr saw it again, nor was it mentioned. I still don't know what that means. The next time I saw Zazie, Allegra was pregnant with his kid, and maybe that's what killed me.
I did something I had meant to do ever since the Mimics told me about what I was. I worked with Aural, my sister's lover, to find a safe place to do it... and I killed myself. It was to save the world, he said, to save the people and trees and animals. It was to save the world to him... to me, it was to save only one.
I was revived, and nearly kidnapped, and saved again by Zazie... who I'd thought dead. There was a time, right after that, where I thought about telling him I loved him. But I couldn't. I couldn't ruin his life like that... no matter how much he gets angry and shoots at things, he's still a good person, and my telling him that would hurt him, quite possibly more than anything else I could do. So I didn't tell him.
I haven't seen him since. I've left the inn, and moved back into my apartment... and yet it all seems so dull and pointless now, instead of simple and good. Maybe I shouldn't have first run from the city. Maybe I should have told Zazie I loved him before Allegra did. Maybe it's supposed to be this way, and maybe I'm not supposed to be happy. I've had three people that I've considered my friends... and all of them are gone. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe I've finally figured out how to dream. But I'm not happy.
No, never that.
My first memory was of a rose. Always, even when I could barely remember my name, I could remember the rose. It was fuzzy, and a strange golden color, not yellow, but gold. I've never seen another like it, and with good reason. That which created me, my 'Mother', I guess, must have created it... though I still don't know why she of all people would create something so beautiful.
There was a period of time where all I could remember was my name. My name that meant fury, which I'd always thought so strange, for I'd never gotten angry, then. Not even childhood tantrums... I didn't have a childhood. There is a year, lost to me even now, where I wandered across the broad back of a country made to be so small by technology. I never went to school. What I knew had been given to me by a computer; and I'd forgotten even that.
The fog of my mind clears with the first sight of the city. Los Angeles... Hardly the kind of place you'd expect to find someone like me, or so thinks the majority of the human population. But that's home, or one of them. I was terrified out of my wits with a backpack, some clothes, a hat, and a name for possessions and starving, as well. I fled from the city... some twist of fate guided my feet, some magnetic pull that dragged me towards the one place I would come to both hate and love... the second of my homes, or maybe the first. It was called the Adamantine Inn, and as I first sat there, I was amazed at what and who I saw.
Eventually, I ventured from my corner table and wandered over to the least intimidating pair of people. I'd barely gotten their names before I felt strangely weak, and was enclosed by darkness. In truth, I fainted, from hunger, but fainting and passing out seems far more dramatic when it's actually happening to you. At any rate, the two people, who were so very kind, got some food for me... It sticks out in my mind as the first time in my life that anyone was nice to me.
After that, I ventured back to L.A., the city that I was both drawn to and repelled by. Luke, I think his name was, one of the ones who'd helped me, had told me about getting a job... and I looked for one, I really did. The first job I ever did for anyone was carry a birthday cake to a little girl's house. Later, I got a job as an assistant cook, and then a waitress, at two places.
Sleeping outside in a cardboard box in the shelter of an overturned dumpster, waking up before the sun rose to cook and wash the dishes of a small, greasy little Chinese restaurant to earn half the minimum wage an hour, and get some food for my troubles, no, that was never very fun. But that's how my schedule began. Next came the waitress job, at a decent paying cafe, though I was tired before I left for my third job... being a waitress can be good or bad, depending on where you work, and my third job had to have been at one of the worst.
I nearly got raped there, once, though at the time I didn't know what was happening. Some noble soul (not the manager, or anyone else that worked there, I'll tell you that) stopped them, and it was a while before I went back. I had to though, because I wanted a place to live, no matter how small it was.
Eventually, I'd saved enough money, and bought (probably illegally) a tiny, one room apartment. I remember every second of that, the slanting rays of the sun, because the only window faced southwest. A small, two-burner stove, two cabinets, and cobwebs were all that was there to meet me. There was also a flowerbox, outside by the fire escape. Home sweet home.
I stayed there for three months. Eventually, I got a minifridge, and a hammock to sleep on, a lamp, a folding table, two folding chairs. It was such a simple life, however hard, and now I can't help but long for it. Get up, go to work, come home, eat, write, sleep. Repeat. I had made friends with the little girl downstairs, and sometimes, she'd wait at my door for me.
When I was coming home from work, at around nine at night, she was on the floor against the wall, dead, and the door to my apartment was open. Some instinct saved me, then, because I fled, down the stairs, out the door. I knew they were chasing me, though I didn't dare look back, running blindly down the streets, followed by some terrifying force I couldn't see or touch. Out of the city and into the forest, where I could barely run. At one point, I tripped, and fell, twisting my ankle. It was horrible.
They were steadily gaining on me, and when they finally caught up, I suppose I was an easy catch. Maybe I was just a little crazy at the point, because I unsheathed my claws and killed at least one of them before they restrained me and beat me up.
I'm not human, and I've never claimed to be. My claws have always been my greatest weapon, four and a half inches of some special alloy, honed to a cutting edge. Dangerous, in a way, I suppose. I remember very little of that night, and only blurred images can be recalled. I don't know how I escaped, and stumbled into what would become my new home, but when I woke up, I was in the rafters some 300 feet above the ground. Heights have never bothered me, thank god. I was confused and jumpy, and as I slipped down the stairs, I came to recognize the place. The Adamantine Inn, and with more than it's usual five people. In truth, it was a bit crowded, though no one bothered me at my little table.
I'd spotted a boy, someone my age, or about, fiddling with a bunch of gadgets and giving the other patrons weird looks. I remember that so well, and yet who said "Hi" first, I don't remember at all. He went out side, and for some reason, I couldn't say why, I followed. We exchanged names... His was Zazie. Zazie the Beast. An odd name, I suppose, but no odder than mine. Tall, with pale blonde hair, and violet eyes... He seemed like the kind of reckless person one could trust, or that was my impression. He'd probably laugh if he heard it.
It was startling, though, how nice he was to me... or maybe I was too naive to understand niceness and politeness, but he went and got ice for my ankle, and was angry, to a point, when I told him about the people who'd chased me. There it was: my first friend.
I saw him again, after that, and was talking to him when someone else stumbled in... her name was Allegra, and she ignored me, but seemed to know Zazie. I'm not sure if I can write honestly about her, since she took a good part in ruining my life, but she always seemed such a bitch. Cold and cruel to anyone but those she needed things from. Still, she'd had it rough, maybe moreso than I... so maybe I'm the selfish bitch and not her. Later that night, one of the people who had chased and attacked me tried to do it again.
Bam. The first time that Zazie saved my life. Then Allegra collapsed... a battle ensued, where everybody tried to kill Midvalley, and I was half killed by two chairs. No, really. After that, everyone was beat up and no one wanted to move... so everybody fell asleep. I don't remember waking up. But I remember what happened just after.
They came for me. Right there, in from of Zazie, Allegra, and someone else I don't know. And the next few weeks were a hell I'm not going to try and describe right now. Suffice it to say that they left me mostly dead, clawed to tiny bits, and bleeding. I remember wondering if anyone would come for me, finally losing hope, collapsed in a ring of boulders half in and half out of the lake. Wondering what it would be like to die, knowing what I knew.
Someone did come, though. Picked me right up, and I know I thought it was one of them, come to finish my off... I struggled a little, thought once I realized who had saved me once again, I stopped. Laying on the couch, confused, sad, weary, that's when it started. I could never have known better. I can't be put to blame... It wasn't my fault.
The next time I saw Zazie, he was getting drunk and high, sickened with an emotion that I didn't know then, one that would eventually take over my heart and mind. I realize now that all I ever was to him was a friend... but those few moments, the thing that had been born inside me grew.
Until all hell broke loose. Even as I curse his name, whatever it was, I can't help but pity him and his fate. Still, he stabbed Zazie for shooting him... Allegra turned into a giant bird and carried him away, with Nick following behind. I remember the look she gave me... even then, she thought I was trying to 'steal' Zazie from her. She left me there to deal with the evil man myself, which was hard, because, though I had one of my friend's guns, it only had three bullets left. He lifted me by my neck, and I shot those three final bullets. Energy gathered in his palm, ready to destroy my body, and the world.
For a third time Zazie saved my life. He used his ability to control animals to bring up some kind of monster, which took most of the blow. I stumbled into the inn and collapsed, and Midvalley ended up saving my life a second time, for which I am still thankful.
That period of time was dull and unhappy, the next still unhappier. I'd clipped my other rose earing to Zazie's sleeve as Allegra took him away, a goodbye present, I though at the time. I neevr saw it again, nor was it mentioned. I still don't know what that means. The next time I saw Zazie, Allegra was pregnant with his kid, and maybe that's what killed me.
I did something I had meant to do ever since the Mimics told me about what I was. I worked with Aural, my sister's lover, to find a safe place to do it... and I killed myself. It was to save the world, he said, to save the people and trees and animals. It was to save the world to him... to me, it was to save only one.
I was revived, and nearly kidnapped, and saved again by Zazie... who I'd thought dead. There was a time, right after that, where I thought about telling him I loved him. But I couldn't. I couldn't ruin his life like that... no matter how much he gets angry and shoots at things, he's still a good person, and my telling him that would hurt him, quite possibly more than anything else I could do. So I didn't tell him.
I haven't seen him since. I've left the inn, and moved back into my apartment... and yet it all seems so dull and pointless now, instead of simple and good. Maybe I shouldn't have first run from the city. Maybe I should have told Zazie I loved him before Allegra did. Maybe it's supposed to be this way, and maybe I'm not supposed to be happy. I've had three people that I've considered my friends... and all of them are gone. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe I've finally figured out how to dream. But I'm not happy.
No, never that.