My next few weeks were spent awaiting Corlinaphen. I knew that she would be back because she had shared with me in our short talk that she would be coming to visit the museum with her parents twice every week. It was good because it meant I could get to know her better. I could observe and decide if she was entirely worthy. Yes, she had the appearence of a Terabithian queen, but I wasn't sure if her personality fit the bill.
When she would come to the museum, I noticed with joy that she was drawn to the warrior artifacts. It pleased me to know that she was a fighter. We could take out the Scrougures and Hairy vultures together as a powerful duo. I could see it now. Oh, my Leslie. Forgive me for my mental disloyalty to you. I must move on to an extent, but you will always be my first fair maiden. Always.
I smiled slightly as I watched my little Nymphet queen explore my own personal hell of a museum. She seemed as drawn to this place as I was, yet she didn't have the deep connection to it that brought intense agony along with the lure. I could tell that she didn't yet understand the sacredness of the art here. I had spotted her getting lectured by her stern parents for touching the objects surrounding her. "But, some of these are made of cardboard!" She ignorantly exclaimed. Oh, but didn't she see that that was what made them art? It was taking something so simple and crafting it into beauty that should never be tarnished. She would learn.
It didn't take long for me to realize that though she carried many Leslie-like traits, she could also be an insufferable little brat. She would moan and groan about how she didn't want to leave when her parents would tell her it was time and she had even thrown a screaming fit when she was told that she had to keep an eye on a toddler child who I assumed correctly was her younger sister. I could see Corlinaphen's distaste and frustration with the world around her and I foolishly justified her childish antics with the excuse that she was simply too wise and burdened with a unique and artistic mindset to keep her satisfied with society. She was simply beyond life's solid customs.
I'm not sure when exactly I decided that she was the one. Maybe it was the way she wandered like a spy around the museum, as though she were on an imaginary mission. Or perhaps it was her innocence and grace as she stood along a platform, head held high like a royal beauty. Nevertheless, I was already stringing together my plans to take her. First and foremost, I had to gain not only her trust; but her parents. It wouldn't be too hard. There was an art club I had set up every friday at the church for tormented souls and free spirited innocents that mirrored myself and my Leslie. They were my Terabithian warriors of the outer world. They, like myself and Corlinaphen, didn't belong in the ordinary world. All I had to do was capture my Queen's eye for art and convince her parents it was a good idea and then she would be mine. It would be all too easy if I did my job.
"Beep! Beep! Beep!" I heard a familiar male voice, snapping me out of my trance. He stood six feet tall, black hair slicked back and in a snazzy black blazer that had a very poetic' vibe. I rolled my eyes at my childhood bully and my artistic rival. Scott Hoager. He not only grew to outshine me in art, having several of his works placed in the museum, but he also had several art magazine articals written about his talent.
"Scott." I nodded, my dark eyes cold. Scott, slapped me on the shoulder.
"Aarons! You still work here?" He spoke in a friendly tone, as though I would actually have grown past my eternal hatred for him. To me, he was another monster in my world and he had drawn the line when he insulted the Queen after her death. He had apologized many times for saying it, telling me it was all because he couldn't deal with the trauma and mixed emotions he was feeling back then; but I knew I would never be able to forgive him.
I guess you're the fastest kid in the class now, huh? I remember his words like it was yesterday and they still made me sick. I didn't give a damn if he was only a kid. I didn't give a rats ass if he was sorry. Those insensitive words would never stop haunting me.
"Obviously." I said icely. I could see that Colinaphen was being dragged away by her parents and my chance of progressing my capture further was gone for the day.
"Aw, man. I know you'll get something put in here one day." Scott encouraged, but I ignored him. "You were always a good drawer"
I sighed heavilly, correcting him. "Artist. It's artist. Not drawer."
Scott grinned, ever so friendly, but I could sense that he felt the tension. "Oh, yeah. Right. Well, I'm gonna head out. I was just gonna show some pals my new sculptor. I'll see ya around?"
"Sure." I said, nodding curtly. I didn't care to speak with him further. He nodded in return, wordlessly leaving my side.
I left work that day, fuel in my bones. I needed my Queen fast. I needed her to help destroy all of the Scrougre's in my life.
