Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.
Warning: May contain mild spoilers.
Warning2: May contain stereotypical wordings which in no way reflect me as a writer/author.
Warning3: So many warnings can cause internal bleeding. O_O
Warning4: Language! :O
Rated T for language and lingo.
Enjoy the chapter. (::
There I was, standing in the midst of a lush green forest, so unfamiliar yet similar to places I'd seen before. Geography like this didn't exist, I was absolutely positive. As I grasped at my confusing surrounding, Zuko continued to advance into the trees and shrubs. I eagerly followed after him. With every step I took, it seemed that he was going farther away from me. Frustration arising in my nervous vocals, I called out his name. I called out "Zuko!" once, twice, and three times, and yet I received no response. I ran in the direction that I had once spotted him walking, and my heart began to pump. Was it possible that in such a new world I was already so lost… literally?
Now that we've reached a logical stopping point in my epic tale of good versus evil, (I'm aware that a plotline truly isn't existent at all at the moment, bear with me my readers.), I'm going to tell you a totally insignificant part I accidentally left out of the text… My apologies for this. However, there is no time for apologies, is there? I must fill in the missing chapters! I must fulfill the needs of my much appreciated fan base! The story absolutely must go on, with the utmost sincere regards of how it is received. Furthermore, I will admit that I sort of left out a vital place in our story that rather creates my whole character image as a person and or back-story, emotions, etc. etc.
You must be asking, 'Oh Claira, sweet, beautiful Claira, how would you do such a thing? Why would you hide the desperate struggles of your lifetime from the grieving media?' Well, my dearest, there is always a perfectly logistic reason for why I would participate in such a foul act. Excu- Reason Numero Uno: I didn't really contemplate the fact that it might have actually been rather important to the story's well being and interest to the reader at heart. Reason Number Two: I'm afraid to admit that I was quite hesitant on how I felt you would… Let us say, experience the story? I am aware that many of you are incredibly judgmental when scanning a writing piece for its qualities, so I couldn't help but worry that you would launch to the amazingly incorrect conclusion of me being a slut. The honorable truth? I am one, but just not that kind. I'm the nice kind, the manipulative, loving, cute sort. (If there truly is a thing.)
Let us return to the back-story of what I was going to tell you. You see, the way I've previously described some things are a tad inaccurate. For example, the blonde hair of my sister. Yes, she has gorgeous blonde hair with natural highlights and excellent texture. However, I was lying about the idea of it, for my hair is just as breath-taking if not more, I do add. My mistake, but there is never too much room for a dramatizing affect to capture readers' interests. By the way, my long golden locks go stunningly with my big, bright blue eyes. I'm beautiful, I'm not going to fib to you about this one. I am completely knowledgeable of those fake stories you might read about "She was oh so ugly and nobody loved her." You fall for that sort of literature like your pudding in its hands, do you not? Be honest, we all do. It's the nature of life, advertising, financial aid. I'm going to let you be informed for just this once- It's all completely fake. Are you aware of the slang for this sort of thing? It's usually titled a "Hollywood Sob Story." (HSS for short.) Famous actors and actresses use it all the time.
Because everyone knows that someone is so down to Earth when a puppy died when they were a mere child. How awful! (No, it really isn't. Sarcasm. Take notice- Someone losing a puppy does not make them a perfect Samaritan with a difficult past.)
On with the topic we are discussing, then. This little detail wasn't the only thing I had left out of the original few chapters. I was never the most unpopular girl in my educational district. Alas, I was rather important on the scale of popularity. Although not super known, I was known just enough to make it around the school with appreciation and respect to some degree. This was just the way I enjoyed it, perfectly so with no interruptions. I was perfect. My grades were perfect, I was gorgeous, and I was incredibly kind. I tucked my flaws away into the deepest and darkness places in my mind, places where nobody could possibly recover them and know of there very existence. And If such a place truly is so, does that mean that someone can simply hide perfections and seem amazing to all viewers? On the contrary, someone could see through my façade.
His name was Mark. He was handsome, funny, and an incredible boyfriend. It went like that. But then, as time went on, it ended like this. This is where that humongous lie I told you enters its way into my story.
After I saw them suck each other's faces for ten minutes or so, I ran like I previously stated. I ran, blah, blah, blah… Instead of going to the field, however, I ended up home. My mother was out working again, as she always was. My father didn't have time for me, he never spoke. We were struggling through this economic depression, as much as it didn't seem. Growing up, I had always been upper middle class, but suddenly everything was changing in such an abrupt manner. Never had I realized that we would fall apart at once point or another, away from each other. Away from something that had once been such an important part of my life. Now it seemed as though it was just a meaningless echo out on an empty corner street. Sick, with no definite purpose rather than to humbly exist. Existence is a strange concept.
Eventually, upon sitting softly and quietly in my bedroom that evening, I began to feel unpleasant. I could identify it as a terrible emotion of rage, jealously, and inferiority. I felt as though I wasn't as evident towards the idea of perfection than I had hoped, than I had been fooled to believe I was. Such an idea, of course, was the truth. However, I misinterpreted it in a way that created a treacherous view of myself. T'was an unrealistic view at that, yet I couldn't sense the false in the confusion of it all. I could only let my pupils pin-point what I contemplated they had the capability to see- I told myself a lie.
Woman can never truly hold trust within themselves, it's a known fact. You've felt it before as a female, can it hold just to a male? Certainly not. Biology is a selfish monster, it holds no boundaries for the less fortunate, it holds every boundary for least fortunate. And yet, it still proposes to remain simple. It relates to karma: A bitch who steals the hearts of all men and women, for past actions. Relying on the past is something it withers its judgment alike, and so forth. It's the believed that so much can snap backwards, darken the curse in such a manner that hope can cease to exist.
This is my story. It happened so quickly it was not comprehendible by normalcy. However, I was not normal. And so, the following day, I arrived to school in brand new beauty, a beauty that could turn men to stone. (Metaphorically, of course.) I was someone new, someone higher than all the others. My grades began to fall steadily, yet I felt no consistent fear. All that seemed to have importance was my imagine, and my reputation. I became the leader, simply to have the satisfaction of others following me. Those who ruled before me bowed their heads as I was a great honor to bow to. I strode through the halls as they were my own, my possessions. Every single student belonged to me- I was reigning victorious.
This existed as so for a lengthening time, now it being almost the time of merriness. And suddenly, I broke down. I had already lost my goodness, my purity. I was the queen, a terrible person. I traded all my old friendships based off trust into fear driven slavery, a form of popularity influenced sociality. It hurt me, the pain was my drug. I sobbed, on the ground, and I ran, this time to the field, and suddenly, there he was, Zuko. I craved starting over, I revealed my true self to him, the innocence I once was.
Back to the present, I followed Zuko, although it felt as though I was following something that wasn't there. He was distant, and he simply was silent. This was my conclusion, I feared losing him and being stranded forever inside the dark wood, yet I feared following him. He didn't seem to me like the type that desired to be followed. I called out his name once more- There was no reply. I sped my pace, jogging ahead, and yet it was obvious to me that I lone in the forest. I cried out in terror and fright, and to no avail, I was done for. But I'd been through the toughest of times, and my sobs were short lived. I began to trudge ahead in the darkness, before I eventually found a direction to trust.
With eventual success, I realized that I had just been following Zuko the entire time. As light entered my eyes, Zuko leaned softly against a tree, his hood still on. A sigh of relief flooded through me, and he just smirked a smile that I couldn't comprehend. He spoke no words to me as we made our way clearing through wood, this time with me by his side. I couldn't risk going through my personal navigational issues once more. The air was warm, soft against my skin. In the middle of December, I pondered whether this was a dream or a nightmare.
It was odd to me, being in an unpleasing place with a stranger that offered no direction. This world was nothing like my own, it was dark and silent and frightening. I could view every single star in the sky, all the familiar constellations. It was obvious to me now that electricity was not entirely evident in this world, that they had not discovered what we had. There were behind my universe. The creepiest part, however, was that as I stared into the glowing hue of the moon, something that I'd imagined would make me feel familiar, was so such thing. In fact, I could swear to depict a woman's face in its grin- The man on the moon was a fault in this dimension.
Suddenly, sounds shot from their values in the distance- We were arriving. I wasn't quite positive where, but I could feel our journey coming to a halt. Voices sounded in the air, and Zuko glanced slightly towards my way. I felt my stomach do a summersault for no apparent reason. What was it about this dark boy that caused me to develop anxiety like this? I figured that it was simply the fact he was incredibly freaky looking. We came to a village, and swiftly, before I could walk any farther, Zuko threw his arm in front of me. He clearly didn't appreciate the public having the ability to find my existence.
"Stay here," he pleaded with me, almost in a sinister yet caring way. It gave me chills, and so I softly nodded in response. He slipped away into the darkness, and my heart pounded in my chest. Zuko was a strong man- not a boy, I could notice this. It shook me to see seventeen year-olds like him so mature. The males at this exact age were boys, not men. I was unused to the feeling. Before I could exhale, a cloak was wrapped around my shoulders and a hood was lifted over my head. "Shh." I heard him whisper, and we silently walked into the darkness of the village. Like his name, it all seemed so… so, Asian themed. The décor of the houses reminded me of Japanese tea shops, and the writing were all either Japanese of Chinese. Statues and depictions that hung for décor were painted in a form that was certainly not American. And yet, Zuko had an abundance of American accent and slang.
We passed by homes of elders and children all together, and I could see through several windows the Asian-styled furnishings and carpentry. Several children slept soundly in their beds, they did not look like Asians. In fact, only some did. Others, like Zuko, were pure American faces. I had nothing against Asia, or Asians. In fact, I was ever so fascinated with their ways of life. However, I could have never expected them to be so connected to another world. There were no blondes, and no pure red-heads. Freckles didn't exist on their faces, and the darkest their skin color got was to a Latin-American bronze. We came to the porch of a home just like all the others, except slightly larger. Its roof had the kind of circular shingles you would find in china, with several layers. It's windows and doors were of black frames. They were clear enough to show light and shadow from inside, yet you could not depict any details. It was something I'd seen in a Hibachi restaurant as a child.
On the sides of the doors, there were Japanese letters inscribed. I could not identify the meaning, but I was sure they were Japanese. I pointed to them in curiosity.
"Is this Japanese? What does it mean?" I pondered, and Zuko lifted one brow in my direction. He seemed confused with my terminology. I had forgotten that their world was not our world. He most likely had no absolute recollection of what Japan even was, much less the coding 'Japanese'.
"'Japanese' is not a familiar term for me- My apologies. However, I can tell you the meaning." His finger trailed over the letters, which went downward. "The spirit is as true as the body or mind. We cannot understand it, yet it understands us." He whispered, almost as though it meant something incredibly important to him. I nodded in comprehension.
"Is that like, some kind of family crest motto or whatever?" I asked, my curiously reigning on. He grinned, and shook his head. What, no Shakespearian times for these people? Had they not reached the time of great literature and the plagues? I supposed not.
"No," He chuckled, smiling slightly from under the shadow of his hood. This was the first time in the few hours we'd known each other that he had even shown the smallest bit of happiness. "It's a prayer to the spirits, blessing the family inside for the centuries." He told me, and I almost burst out laughing. I held back the laughter, and attempted to act serious. It wasn't that I wanted to offensive, it was simply that the culture that I had grown up into hadn't supported such an idea since ancient times.
"What do you find humorous?" He whispered, clearly not offended, yet curious. His attitude was strange, almost as though he wasn't paying attention to me, but something beyond me. Or perhaps, above me. Although his eyes stared directly into mine, I knew the truth was that he could not see me, but something else. He was looking at something that I couldn't provide, something that did not complete my being. I shrugged, softly.
"It's a strange idea, you know, spirits and all in my world. I mean, everything about this- your place is sort of weird to me," I looked into the sky, and then back to my feet. "It's, well, it hasn't really been an idea since ancient times. We don't really believe in spirits that much, and we have a bit more… um, technology. And we're a little bit more advanced." I told him, shyly. He quite easily nodded, and turned his attention back to the Japanese styled door.
Knocking on the white glass, the door slid open, and a figure of whom I did not recognize took us in. To Zuko, she smiled, almost flirtatious. And then, her gaze followed to mine. I could sense she was clearly uninterested in who I was, by her bored expression. The girl wore long dark Asian styled clothes, a dress with a few ropes or belts it seemed around it. Her hair felt to her elbows in long, black locks, straight as pin. It was luscious and it was shining in the moonlight. Part of it on each side was pulled into two side buns, and she had an Asian outlook. Her eyes were small, with long and dark edges, and her skin was pale and flawless.
"Hello, Mai." Zuko solemnly grinned, and they leaned towards each other. Typical, even boys in this universe went for the quiet and to be seen-not-heard ones. It aggravated me so. I closed my eyes for the meeting of the lips, and when they didn't let go, I cleared my throat in a rude yet satisfying way.
"Sorry to interrupt your, err, episode, but I thought we were here for a reason… Zuko?" I quizzed, leaning against the door frame with my arms crossed. Mai turned from her boyfriend, finally, and faced me. Her eyes made their way from my head to my toes, in a strange and creepy way. Not like a rapist or a hungry teenage boy would, but more in a suspicious and silent way. She took me in for a long time, before deciding to speak.
"What is your name?" She finally spoke, in a rather deep but captivating voice. It was attractive to listen to, sweet to the ear. It was rather obvious that this was one of the many traits. I almost felt envious, and then I remembered something: I didn't want to have absolutely no personality like she did. I almost giggled to myself at the thought. This woman was not my favorite of the many I would meet along the way.
"Claira," I answered in the purest, most casual tone possible for me to use. "I'm seventeen years old, and I'm from New Jersey." I smirked, ready for her to throw more questions. I wanted to show who I was. I craved the response, the emotion involved.
"Ah," She muttered, obviously unbothered- Or so her appearance said. "Why is your hair yellow? What happened to it?" She inquired, and I felt myself chuckling silently. I grinned at her for a short moment, until I looked at my hair, and slowly began my highly anticipated answer.
"My hair is not yellow, it's a color we call 'blonde.' A lot of girls in my universe have it, and blonde hair and blue eyes are common together." I educated her in the ways. She nodded, and Zuko nodded. Now, we were even it seemed. "Where will I sleep tonight?" I asked Zuko, and he froze. I wondered if he had ever considered this point. Mai thought too, it seemed.
"She can sleep in my room, I suppose." Mai reasoned, and for a moment, I felt a sense of appreciation towards her. A smile shown lightly upon my lips, in grateful manners. Zuko everlastingly appeared perplexed, obviously not having the idea of where Mai herself would spend the night. I also felt rather concerned, and the slightest guilty, knowing now that I had taken the room away from Mai. She shook her head at my expression. "I can sleep with you tonight, right Zuko?" She pleaded. He reluctantly agreed.
Minutes later, I was laying in the strange feather bed, which was unusually low to the ground. But the thought didn't last long, for soon sleep engulfed me into the darkness.