Verse I: Dreams and Truth
It always began with a dream, a dream he absolutely loved. Jordan was in a kitchen with a rose-and-leaf print on the linoleum and warm sunshine leaking through leaf green and lavender checks. He was sitting in an oak chair with a thyme-leaf imprinted cushion below him and a fork and knife clenched in his fisted hands. A woman swooped from above and placed his favorite meal before him on a petal embroidered edge – chicken and biscuits with a side dish of mashed potatoes. It was his favorite meal made by his mother. He easily sunk his fork into the gravy drowned chicken and brought it to his mouth.
Then everything changed, like when a child made a sandcastle in the bleach sand of the beach, with spiky turrets, squared towers and speared barricades, and only to have it washed away in a single, sweeping motion of the cold-hearted mistress of the sea.
The room was dark, painted black and dark claret. A single futon substituted as the bed with a black sheet, followed by a dark red fleece blanket and a single downy pillow with a silver covering. A girl was lying on the bed, her stomach to the mattress, a book cracked opened. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The book was half-read. A cup of tea was held in one hand, the other poised to turn the page, promising fresh new words and awe. But the girl didn't turn the page nor take a sip of the cooling tea. It was as if everything was in a stand still.
The vanity off to the right of the bed held a small carousel, in the shape of the pentangle. It was made of ebony, the top most zenith of the music box holding a cross. But something was demonic, sacrilege to the carousel. Small unicorns of silver and dragons of ebony dove up and down as the music played, up and down on the ebony poles impaled through the animal's body. Small Christmas lights adorned the fringes of the top, hanging over the edge, casting white light on the hellish creatures below.
The unicorns were strange, deadly, Satan's own, as the creature's had fangs of ivory hanging from open maws and demonic red eyes made of ruby that seemed to pulse as it caught sight of Jordan. Wings that belonged to gargoyles burst from the back side as tails and manes flowed free through a non-existent breeze. The dragons were triple headed, like guards of hell, with ruby eyes that glowed with a strange light. The necks snaked about each other, forked tongues licking the air and ivory fangs gleaming. Wings arched from the back as a tail wrapped around the pole that confined it. Small mirrors behind each creature showed its grotesque reflection with the smallest chips of rubies and emeralds creating roses and vines. Gargoyles stood on the rising top of the carousel, above the creatures, faces frozen in the most grotesque way.
The music was off as well. It was like the music little girls would dance to in the cheap music boxes their mother's got them to amuse them. The little girls would dance to the cheerful tune with their pink leotards, tutus, and swimsuit-like uniforms, and they would twirl around in plastic glass slippers with large red hearts that would light up when they would stomp around, as if they were Cinderella. And the little girls would wear their Barbie tiaras on hair that was French braided and would tap their plastic wand with the cloth star with that annoying sheen and tendrils of ribbon, as if they were the Faerie Queen.
But this music was sadder, darker, as if someone had died. It was a mix of Moonlight Sonata and the ballerina music. The smallest neighs and roars came from the carousel, adding that foreboding feeling to the music. Jordan thought he could hear the faintest of woman and men singing an old hymn, one with out words, it was sad. A single wooden ottoman stood in-between the crevasse of the vanity. The mirror on the vanity was broken, showing a broken image of Jordan. Beside the mirror was a single porcelain doll.
The doll had that pale porcelain skin, unmarred and unblemished. She had beautiful long, thick, full lashes above and below her eyes. The eyes were the queerest color of red, like fresh blood, or the richest of red wine. Long locks of black hair cascaded down the body to the waist in freefall. Wavy and thick, it was the prettiest of widow's lace, or the darkest silk of a funeral dress. Her lips were the color of the freshest blood. Her pale fingered hand was outstretched, wanting to grasp Jordan's larger, tanned ones. The doll wore one of the old female Victorian dresses, high collar in a grey and black pinstripe fashion with the skirt that reached to the ankles. The smallest of buckle-up black boots adorned the doll's feet as she smiled her bloody smile, glassy eyes pinned to Jordan's.
He looked to the girl, still, she hadn't moved. Her arm was still in the forty-five degree angle as it was before and still on the same page. What kind of messed up world was it? Time was in a standstill, the world was bleak, broken and unfixable. Was this like Neverland? Where nothing grew older? He went forward. Perhaps to touch the girl to she if she was tangible?
"This is my world. That was the doll my father sent me when I was ten. He thought I still liked dolls." Eva joined Jordan, gently touching him on the shoulder. "The carousel, it was my mother's. It came from the Victorian age. Perhaps the saddest era of all humanity." She walked up to the doll and held it in her arms, as if it was her child. Jordan joined her, a hand on his shoulder.
"You shouldn't have seen this!" Eva said on a more serious note. She set the doll down with care and turned back to Jordan. "It's time for you to wake up." She placed a hand to Jordan's forehead. Like a mirror or glass hit by a stone of the smallest size, everything shattered, like the mirror above the vanity. He was falling into a chasm, supported by invisible hands to lead him back to the waking.
Verse II: Love Debased
12:23 A.M. That's what the eighteen-year-old read when he was shaken awake from the dream. He looked over from his futon with the camouflage sheets and covers and looked at the clock. 12:34. Eleven minutes passes since he woke up and tried to get himself back to sleep. He thought of nothing, sang his favorite songs in his head, counted sheep and cows and goats jumping over fences. Nothing worked.
He could go talk to Eva. She wouldn't mind if he woke her up. He had done this ten times before. But who was counting? Eva was, Jordan knew. More than likely after the twelfth time, she would kill him by suffocation by pillows. What a way to go, killed by pillows. Yes, and written on the tombstone would be: Killed by suffocation by pillows, due to a pissed-off team member. Jordan let a small laugh escape as he closed the steel door behind him and walked down to Eva's room.
Without knocking, Jordan pushed the door open and looked around for Eva. Eva's room was the smallest and vandalized with posters of rock groups, racers and pictures. A desk held an old 2014 laptop computer and a TV with one of the old PlayStation 3 sets with a small stack of games from the ancient PlayStation. An old 2009 karaoke/CD player was under the desk, hidden by a towel.
Eva was sleeping somewhere in the thing she called a bed. It was originally a bunk bed, but Eva took the legs off the bottom, added a plywood bottom and added the curtain hangs to the small awning above the lower bunk and added blankets to protect her from the harsh sunbeams of the sun. Above is what Eva called the study room, as it was stacked with books and notebooks. Drawers were imbedded on all sides, so no need for a dresser or wardrobe.
Jordan walked to the blanket curtains and thrust them open. Eva was buried in a cocoon of blankets, sheets and fleeces. Pillows were pell-mell around the small square thing Eva called a bed. Only Eva's mop of black hair could be seen. Jordan shook Eva awake by jousting her shoulders roughly. Eva groaned, grumbled and spoke gibberish as she turned to look at the invader. Jordan leapt back. How the hell could Eva be as scary a Reaver, even when she wasn't angry? Maybe it was that glassy look in her eyes that made her look half-awake, half-dead with that small look of a glare. Or maybe it was that her hair was in disarray and stuck up as if she put her finger in the electrical socket and made her look like the Bride of Frankenstein. Either way, it scared Jordan.
"What do you want?" It came out as a half-snarl, half-yawn. Eva wormed out of her nest of cloth and swung her legs out of her bed and rubbed her eyes with her fingers, standing up. She placed a single hand on her desk and glared at Jordan reproachfully. Jordan sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him for Eva to sit down. Eva slouched to the bed and sat down. Elbows on knees and hands covering her face, she yawned once again. Jordan rubbed the back of his head and let out a nervous laugh.
"Well…I had another nightmare –" Jordan stopped as Eva reached for an extra-fluffy pillow she favored for hitting him with when he woke her up on weekdays. Eva placed the pillow on her thighs and pressed her face in the pillow. She waved one hand for him to continue. "And it scared me…it was about you. You told me about a doll Don gave you and the carousel your mother gave you." Eva looked up from her pillow, pale as freshly poured milk. She gnawed on her lower lip and stood up. She grabbed Jordan by the wrist. With a sadistic yank, she dragged him to the kitchen.
"I'm making you warm milk. You are delusional. I have neither carousel nor a doll. What did eat last night? Not Rick's chicken medley, I hope. I thought that smelled funny." She placed two percent milk in a cooking pan, placing it over the blue flame of the gas oven. "Stan and Koji were up all night, in the bathroom, sick. I am so happy I'm a vegetarian. Maybe you should become one." She poured milk in a flower print mug and turned her back to him, fishing a spoon out of a drawer, pulling a small jar of honey towards her.
"Why milk?" Jordan asked, watching as Eva hovered the golden liquid over the steaming milk. With her free hand she grabbed something else. Was it sugar? She crushed something with the back of the spoon and added it to the honey enriched milk and stirred it with the spoon. She put the milk back in the fridge and honey in the cupboard.
"Milk helps you fall asleep." She replied, walking over to him and placing the milk in front of Jordan. "It's helped me tons when I was at the boarding school. Drink all of this, and viola, you fall asleep before you hit the pillow." She dropped a sugar cube in the milk and stirred it methodically. Jordan took the cup and gently sipped at it. She stood back up and got herself a cup of decaf coffee from the coffee maker. She dropped two sugar cubes in and took the milk spoon and gently stirred the coffee.
"What was it like at the boarding school? From the way you put it, it seemed like hell." Jordan frowned down at the half filled cup. What else was in there? Peppermint? Brown sugar? Eva drank the coffee, thinking of her answer before speaking. She winced as she added another sugar cube. This was all going to her hips. She stirred the cube in and placed the spoon aside.
"Well, I wasn't well liked because of my parents. They thought I was a snob or a prick. So I became tough. When I was eight, I could take on juniors and seniors. People, you might say, veered away from me. When I was thirteen I was in a gang for a while, but quit after they were planning to get rid of the biology lab. I loved biology, the best in my grade 'til I was fifteen, of course. That's when I ran away and joined you guys." Eva explained, without flinching or even blinking in shame.
"You ever have any boyfriends?" Jordan inquired casually. The mug halted in front of Eva's lips. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she glanced at Jordan through half-closed eyes. She lowered the cup slowly, like the executioner with an axe, stained with traitor's and mutineer's blood. Jordan winced as Eva pondered her answer, gently stirring the cooling coffee.
"Yes." She began slowly. "I was fourteen. I dated him for about six months. I broke it off when I obliviously dropped out." Jordan sighed gratefully and yawned. He was tired, amazingly. Eva drained the last of her coffee and grabbed the two empty mugs, rinsed them and placed the cups in the dishwasher, flicking it on with a press of a button.
"You can sleep on the couch. I'll stay down here. I was going to watch Adult Swim anyways." She instructed. She led Jordan to the multi-colored couch and set him down, pulling a cotton pillow under Jordan's head. She sat on the floor and grabbed the white TV clicker. She turned the TV on and lowered the volume. She spared Jordan one glace before watching the opening theme of Rave Master.
"Did you ever kiss him?" Jordan questioned sleepily, brining a wool blanket up to his chin. Eva gave him a tight, closed look. She turned back to the TV, ignoring Jordan's probing questions of her love life. Each answer was a one-up on the volume. He knew he over pushed his limits when he happened to question Eva a personal inquiry. Affronted, Eva stood up and placed the clicker to his forehead, as if hoping the small infra-red beam would kill him. Her reply was terse, short, and cut like a knife.
Staring up at the white ceiling, he felt the darkness of sleep overcome him. That milk did that work. Milk, and honey and sugar made the perfect insomnia remedy. But what was that peppermint-like taste? Then he remembered. A sleeping adhesive, Jordan realized. Eva really did help him. And how did he help her? With a sigh, he let sleep over take him. And he did not dream.
With the fact that he liked Eva since the beginning of the races seemed to burn and scald him as if he was in boiling water. And the fact that Eva once liked Prince Aikka didn't help. And with the questions he asked, he could understand if Eva hated him. It was love debased.
Verse III: Eva's Solace
Eva always hated soap operas. She hated them for one reason, all the drama, adultery and lies. But her dorm room classmate loved that sort of thing like The Bold and the Beautiful and The Young and the Restless. It wasn't real, none of that was! It seemed like a fantasy to Eva, with three women carrying a single man's children. Like so-and-so having an affair with her brother's brother. It sickened her to no end. She could tolerate homosexuals just fine, she watched Will and Grace and other shows like that. She could handle incest, like in V.C. Andrews books.
But having a love-life with a team mate? She thought that was wrong. What if they dated and broke the hard way? And what if they never recovered? The boy she had dated, he was dating another girl. In the end, when Eva found out, she beat the boy up with anger and betrayal. She was placed in detention for a semester. She veered away from boys after that. Sure, she had a childish crush on Prince Aikka, and she still did, but he was three universes over and probably betrothed since birth.
She brushed a lock of thick black hair away and looked at space, at the stars. There was Andromeda, the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper and Sirius. And maybe that bright orangey-red star was Naurasia? No, it was Venus. Maybe that bluish-black was? Maybe. She leaned back on the ceramic roof, letting the warmth leak into the tank-top she wore over her bra. She wished her mother was with her. She would know what to do. She always did. She knew how to fix a scrapped knee or clean a cut or make a bruise feel better.
But the warm embrace of solace took care of Eva. The warm breeze of the peak of summer and oncoming of fall caressed Eva and brought warmth to the very marrow of her bones. She closed her eyes and brought her arms above her head. The breezes brought comfort and almost sleep to Eva as a shooting star streaked across the bluish-black sky with the dots of silver, bronze and gold that was known stars. Below the awnings of the house came the twinkles of wind chimes and glass.
Notebook pages fluttered around as the wind picked up the papery cardboard covers. Pens and pencils rolled in the breeze as Eva looked at drawings of engines, racers and guns. Some pictures fluttered from the notebooks. Eva looked and scooped the notebooks and pictures up. She placed them under an alcove of the roof, where the attic overrode the lower part of the roof. This was her secret place, where no-one else bothered her. Eva pushed the pens and pencils beside the notebooks and swung herself down, into the window that led inside her room.
With a groan she went to her bed and began to fold the blankets and stack the pillows neatly. Next time Jordan interrupted her sleep, she would strangle him. 4:56, the clock read when Eva looked at it. Maybe she'd go downstairs, get another cup of coffee, maybe a large, extra sticky cinnamon roll and sit down in front of the rising autumn sun, reading her newest book, Alice in Wonderland. Ah, the tales of the girl who created her own world, who was sucked into the politics of the Queen of Hearts and the White Rabbit.
The sun was barely over the zenith of the mountains as she stumbled down into the kitchen. She opened the black-and-white checks of the kitchen curtains and opened the small window, smelling the crisp breeze. Ah, the promise of a nice, warm, balmy day. She poured water into the coffee machine and added the coffee mix. She grabbed an alabaster plate and opened a small bread box, which held the sticky buns she and Stan made last night. It was still slightly warm. With her book tucked under her arm, plate in her right and a mug waiting to be filled with coffee in her left, this was the reason she loved summer mornings.
Placing the book and plate aside, she poured herself a cup of black coffee, enriched with sugar cubes and honey. Eva sat at the table and began to read her book, fingering the cup in her hand. It was hot to the touch and warmed her slightly chilled fingers. The sticky bun was filled with sugar, fat and calories, but Eva didn't care. She'd burn that all away later. Maybe she would race Stan and Koji.
Sipping coffee, eating a sticky bun and reading continued as Rick came in and ate his peanut butter toast on rye with black coffee. He sat beside her and looked outside at how the sun struck the green of the leaves, creating haloes of light around the fringes of the leaves. This was the solace she liked, having the sharp sent of coffee in her nose, and a family member by her side.
"Sleep well?" The twenty-four-year-old inquired in a conversional tone. Eva looked up from her book and shrugged her shoulders carelessly. Plucking a napkin from a wire basket, she shoved it in the book and snapped it shut and pierced Rick with a mock-angry glare. She pointed her spoon at him, still dripping the brown liquid that was coffee and began to shake it.
"You are a horrible cook. Stan and Koji stayed up all night. And Jordan came in last night! He had a nightmare because of you and your Cajun cooking!" Eva barked at him with mock severity. "I had to give the poor dear milk to get him to fall asleep." She dropped her spoon on a napkin and looked at Rick for a response. All she received was a delicately raise eyebrow and the quirk of a smile.
"Didn't you eat any, Eva?" Rick inquired. Eva gave him a dirty glance and scooped her cup and plate in her hands. A steady stream of pressurized water spurt from the nozzle as Eva rid the plate of sugar, cream and pieces of bread and the cup of unsalvageable drops of coffee. She put the nozzle back in the base and sat on the precipice of the sink, eye brows raised sardonically.
"I'm a vegetarian, Rick. You're the reason why I'm one." Eva replied shortly, opening the dishwasher and grabbing a handful of forks, knives and spoons. Rick laughed at her vindictive answer and watched as the female unloaded cutlery and plates from the washer. Such was the way of every morning. A friendly banter over coffee and breakfast sweets.
Verse VI: Under a Dark Sky
Night fell and the waning moon rose like a crooked smile. Jordan felt that the moon was mocking him, laughing at his misery and failure. The stars were flashing and twinkling, as if they were laughing at him. Leaves shuddered in the breeze, laughing in mirth at him. Laughing at his failure, laughing at a love debased. Jordan finished picking up the remainder of weeds from the garden and tossed them in a bucket. Punishment for breaking a window with dirty underwear, bunny slippers and a robe. All who belonged to Jordan.
This was a game of hide-and-seek. Eva always hides in the darkest corners and the highest trees and the deepest ocean. And as the seeker, Jordan can never find or reach her as if she wasn't meant to be touched. He hated this doggerel of his life. He hated this round of hide-and-seek. He hated that he wasn't the one hiding. Even as a child he hated being the seeker, they would always run away from him as if he was sick, or smelly or mean.
But the one he was trying to find was there, swinging gently back and forth on the swing made of rope and a single piece of fire cherry. Her bare feet made pretty and intricate designs on the dirt ground below the cherry tree in bloom. She had an angry look on her face, was it Jordan's fault? Dirt rose up from the ground as she stamped her feet on the ground, standing up. Jordan picked up the bucket and tossed the weeds in a garbage bag.
Eva was still there, looking blankly at the stars. Her jaw was set in a way he had never seen before. Perhaps he should turn around, talk to her tomorrow? Hope and pray to every god and goddess that she would forgive him. He massaged his temples with his fingers and looked back up. Eva was gone. To her room most likely, her haven that he often intruded upon. With a determined fist in the air, Jordan walked into the house, trash bag over his shoulders.
He was outside Eva's room, debating his options. With an indomitable half-grin, half-grimace he opened the door and winced. She didn't throw anything at him. The most strangest of tunes came from a pentangle Jordan recognized the carousel from his dream. But in real life, it seemed more Godly-like and more religious. The unicorns had beautiful gold and ruby saddles and bridles and the dragons had the cutest collars around thick necks. The gargoyles were angels and the lights casted a heavenly glow on the creatures.
"You're mother is still alive, isn't she?" Eva posed quietly, staring at Jordan intently. Jordan nodded and stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. Eva motioned for Jordan to sit beside her on the floor. Jordan crouched to the floor and watched as the creatures went up and down. Eva laid on the floor, stomach to the ground, and face on open hands.
"Yeah. She is." Jordan replied. Eva gave him a small smile and traced one of the three headed dragons lovingly. "She used to make the greatest chili and chicken and biscuits! You'd love it! If you weren't a vegetarian. I mean she does make nice stir fries…and vegetable and noodle soup." He finished weakly. Eva laughed outright and gently punched his arm. Shaking in mirth Eva stood up and took Jordan with her. She pointed to a picture in frame.
"That's my mom. She knew everything. She was going to teach me to race and all sorts of things. She did teach me all those things. Even though she's dead. She taught me all but one lesson." She grinned at Jordan mischievously and sat on the desk. Jordan gulped. "Guess which one that is." Jordan closed his eyes in puzzlement and tapped his forehead.
"Which lesson was that?" Jordan questioned. There was that damn smile again! As if she knew all his secrets. She beckoned Jordan to come closer with her pointer finger. Jordan took that step forward. Bemused he looked at Eva. She leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to Jordan's. Soft, warm, and tasted of chocolate. It was a chaste kiss, but enough to put Jordan in a state of shock.
"Love. You taught me that lesson." Eva replied evenly. Jordan glanced at the seventeen-year-old and leaned down for another kiss. He liked her kisses.
Fin.
Hmm…I think my first one was better, or maybe I'm wrong. If you don't know what a Reaver is, rent the movie Serenity and you'll see. But what do you think? R&R.
Special Thanks to:
atemswhitetigermew: Do you have any idea how hard your name is to write? T.T I'm sorry if I made it a cliffy, it's one of those Goosebumps endings were you can choose the ending. You just need either 1) imagination or 2) insanity. I'm glad you like this and I hope you don't burn me for this one. And, no, I really don't have a problem with you being a atems x Sasuke fan…I don't even know what it is, for Goddess's sake!
Lumiere: I'm glad you like Let Us Dance, I really couldn't add anymore chapters, it was a one chapter only, because adding another would mess it up. And I'm lazy and have no ideas to add to it. I am, however, writing a much larger Oban story.
Yu-Gi-Ah2.0: I'm glad you like it. This is a Molly x Jordan. It was an extreme challenge for me to write this. I had to rewrite this three times before I was over all pleased with it. This was a one time thing, all the others Molly x Aikka, Jordan x Molly is to Goddamn hard to write.
Eiki-chan: I'm once again glad you think this is perfection, it makes me feel all tingly inside. I'm brilliant? My friends call it insanity. Ah, each to themselves. I hope you like this story…it was rather hard for me to write. It was such a challenge.
Didgi Girl: Once again I am glade you like it and think it's beautiful. It's rather amazing what science can do these days, I mean it might be possible to send a virtual bite O.o.
I'm not really an Jordan x Molly fan...this is freakin' 1000 and some shorter than the others! So what does that say? XD
Lost Jerusalem, Alice