Tomorrow never comes

I stare at the wreckage of the temple of Azar. No doubt the clean up crew were having a frightening time wading though the centuries old curses…

Hopefully Azar won't curse me…

"Oh, she'll understand." Ah, the moment of truth; I turn to face Mother. I think the mirrors were starting to crack...

"Um, Arella…"
"Daughter. I do understand you had a good time?" I almost blush. Almost.

"You… could say that."

"You sure are beautiful, Raven…" I feel myself blush. He was so close

"Um… really…?" His hand brushed my hair away.

"Yes. Beautiful as an exotic flower." I blush harder. Azarath… Met…

His hand touches my cheek. "Uh…" He leaned forward…

Dear Azar…

"Yes, I suppose so." She looked out of the window. "Who was the boy, anyways?"

"Just a… boy." She nods, I start to burn…

"And what did he do?"

"Why do you ask?" I try being evasive. Mother glanced at me. One of those glances that made me feel transparent.

"How long has it been since you meditated?"
"This is starting to feel like an interrogation."

"Only if you want it too." She said pleasantly, sitting down "Sit down." I sat down.

She sighed "Raven." I nod. "I always knew there will be an occasion like this… you are a teenage girl, after all…"

"Twelve."

"What?"
"I'm Twelve." She smiled.

"And quite adventurous, it seems."

"……Your point being?" She relaxed some more.

"Tell me, Raven, why do you meditate?"

I drone, "To keep my emotions in check."

"And why do need to keep your emotions in check?" I was getting annoyed; I wanted to damage that wise, peaceful smile of hers.

"To keep Father from coming." The smile shirks a bit at the reference to Trigon as Father.

"…Yes." She pauses. "And I doubt you have been doing it well… always stay on your guard, Raven; today, tomorrow, forever.

I smile bitterly. "Tomorrow never comes." She rises.

"Maybe so Raven, but there is a time and place for everything… and this is neither the time nor place." I sigh and concede. But deep inside, I feel I wasn't the person for it…

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

What can I say? No one understands me? I am not meant for love? Or something else, equally clinched?

"……" I place the book in the box. With equal measures of reverence and malice.

"……" my hand hovers over the lid. What to say? What is there to say?

"……"
"……" I close the lid, slowly. Silence was as good as anything.

The lid closes, but not before I catch one last glimpse of the book's cover.

The Chronicles of Rorek.

"……" Now was neither the time nor place.

Tomorrow…

Tomorrow never comes.