Daughter Of The Council

Blurb: In a society where peace and happiness rule, scars are a symbol of honor and rank, only given to those who have rendered service to the Council.
Amora is barely 16, yet she is the Council's chief operative, and one of the youngest and most honored agents in the whole country. Being one of the few orphans raised by the Council members, she's never doubted their motives, until she meets Lucian.
Now, trying to separate the lies from the truth, she must also face many new emotions, suppressed memories, and figure out where her loyalties lie.

Amora stood before the large mirror examining her reflection while she waited. Behind her were the blood red curtains which dominated very room in The Center. The color brought out the green in her eyes and illuminated her blond locks, while also reminding her of why she was there.
It was the Day of Reflection. Everyone was already assembled in The Center's main plaza wearing their best clothes for the event. Amora's dress was not her choice, though, because not there to listen to the country's history as everyone else was.
Her heart began to beat faster in anticipation, but she quickly composed herself. Yes, she was young, but she was also the Council's chief operative. From childhood she had been trained to control her mind, body and emotions, and was thus more mature than most 16 year-olds. There were no threats today. Thus, there was nothing for her to fear.
A click on the speakers above her head made her tune into the words, "It's time".
She glanced into the mirror one last time and strode out the door. She walked up the giant red velvet steps perfectly timing her speed so that all eyes would be on her when she emerged.
She paused at the top of the platform, allowing the crowd to feast their eyes on her. They simultaneously gasped, their glued to her as she began to descend the even larger staircase that led to to the main walk.
Of course, she was beautiful in her pitch black evening gown, but that was not the reason for the assembly's awe and bewilderment. From her elbow to her wrist were large scarred lines: 6 on her left and 5 on her right. Never before had the audience beheld someone so young who was so honored.
Amora kept her eyes trained ahead of her and did not change her expression. Yet, inside her mind she allowed herself to smile and bathe in the glory. It was finally her time to shine. After 16 years of service to the Council and her country, she would finally be acknowledged and respected. And she would finally recieve her 12th scar.
The Council sat in a row of 10 chairs facing the audience. As Amora approached them she knelt and bowed her head in respect.
"Not only is today a day to remember our past, but also a day to embrace our future," one of the members of the Council spoke into the microphone. Amora was glad that the history lesson was already over. She had listened to it for 15 years and was not planning to do so ever again.
Another member of the Council walked up to her while the first was speaking. Her hood covered her eyes, yet Amora recognized her easily by the dark blue dress that peeked out from beneath the cloak. The woman raised Amora from her crouched position and turned her around to face the audience.
"Many great services have been done by the young woman before you," the first Council member continued. "She has devoted her life to serving you, the people of this country, by ridding you of all threats to your peace and happiness. Throughout her career, she has earned each of her scars by an act of unselfish heroism.
There was a dramatic pause where a third Council member drew out a long silver knife and walked to Amora's other side.
"Today, Amora Danica Karr will recieve her 12th and final scar."
Without hesitation, Amora held her right arm out to the third Council member. The crowd drew in a breath as he slowly carved a line into her skin. She didn't even flinch.

___________________________________

The streets were crowded and bustling as everyone filed out of the plaza. Amora had no trouble walking through the crowd, though, because they parted to create a path for her. At first, she felt truly gratified, thinking that they cleared path for her out of respect. Only their further actions allowed doubts to creep into her mind.
When she glanced sideways towards the crowd, they seemed to shrink back farther into themselves. Some held looks of terror in their eyes, while others glared at her with all their might, though their trembling betrayed their true fear.
She hurried on. As she rounded a corner, she noticed a mother pull her child to her sharply. Amora kept her eyes forward, not wavering in stance or determination.
"Mama, is that the killer girl?" she her the child whisper, when she had gotten farther down the alley.
'Killer?'

Amora wondered to herself. 'Why would they call me a killer?'

After rounding a final corner and heading down a dark alley, Amora arrived at her home. She pushed the old looking screen open and shut it behind her. Of course, this was not her real home; it was only the entrance.
Inside the small, square space, there was just enough room to stand. She voiced her name aloud to activate the portal. The sound of air rushing past her ears was the only assurance she had that she had dropped at least a full story below ground. She followed the metallic hallway for a short distance and when she hit a dead end, she pressed her hand against the wall , causing it to disappear. Inside the next passageway, she stepped onto a hover board, which was kept aloft by magnets.
She leaned forward on the board, accelerating to top speed, yet still navigating the halls with ease. Another dead end greeted her; this time it was a real wall. She leaped off the board with perfect timing, landing on the platform as her board whizzed backwards to its original spot. The next hall she walked down was very short, ending in another wall which quickly dissolved at her touch.
Inside this room, she had spent a great deal of time. Although she did not remember her childhood, she knew that in the past few years the Council had given her all of her important assignments in this room. Now, though, was not time for a new assignment. Now was her time to listen to the Council, while they discussed her future.
She advanced to the small platform in the center of the room. Above her in 10 circularly seated chairs the Council sat, staring at her intently. Their familiar faces held no pity, no happiness, no praise, and no hatred. Instead, their hooded eyes held a permanent look of haughty determination. As always, she adopted the same look, awaiting their words.
"Amora, you know what we have been deliberating, I am sure." One council member said.
"Yes," she simply responded.
"Then you understand the gravity of our decision?"
"Of course. I await your command."
There was a puase. Amora made eye contact with the Council member who sat directly in front of her. She turned slowly in a circle doing the same with each other member. Finally, one member rose from her seat.
She approached Amora, pulled a black cloak from underneath her red one, and placed it on Amora's shoulders. Amora allowed a look of surprise to enter her face. She ran her finger along the edge of the soft fabric and pulled the hood over her eyes.
In her ear, the Council woman whispered "You are ready."
"I am? Are you sure?"
"Do you doubt our decision?" A male Council member boomed from above.
"No. I do not doubt you who are far wiser than me. It is just that I fell my young age prevents me from running a country on my own." Amora was also worried about the people's reaction. They had not been so accepting of her earlier. Yet, she would never reveal her weakness of wanting to please the people to the Council.
"You will never be alone. We will guide you in everything. It is only when we pass on that you will gain complete control." Yet another Council member assured her. With all of them so far above her, she could not discern exactly which member was which, but it did not matter exactly who spoke, because the Council always acted as of one mind.
Nothing else was said to Amora, other than a final dismissal. Before exiting, she bowed and thanked them sincerely. Then, she turned down a long hall and headed toward her room.

___________________________________

 

Alien

Like a curse or a deadly disease, it never left her. Everyday, it never failed. There was no escaping it because, inevitably, she had no control over it.

Late at night, when she came home, she would lock herself in the bathroom. She knew the water would trigger it, like water always did. She didn't glance in the mirror as she stepped out of her sweaty clothes.  Carefully, she piled the clothes on the counter, even though she knew it was pointless. 

As usual, she took a single quick look in the mirror before shutting the shower curtain. Her routine was like a ritual which began with that simple look.  She never stared too long though. She had leaned lng ago not to become too attatched to her reflection.

Her hands moved to the faucets, turning on the war, paunding stream of water. Standing beneath the water with eyes closed, she waited for it to begin. Sometimes she was strong enough to keep her eyes shut when it happened. She knew it was not one of those days, but she tried.

She felt the change happening after only seconds. A soft tingle started to prickle through her nerves. Soon, it had overtaken her body. She could no longer manage to keep her eyes closed.

 As her eyelids pulled themselves open, she turned the temperatureof the water up in anticipation.The hot water counteracted the burning feeling beneath her skin, making the whole process more bearable. Still, her whole body ached and her mind blurred. 

She held her hands in front of her, out of the reach of the water. She knew it would only be a matter of seconds. The pain was already lowering, her mind clearing.

No matter how many times she saw it, it still amazed her. The color was draining from her hands, olive tan to white. She was disappearing before her own eyes, as the color was being peeled quickly from her entire body. A glance at her feet revealec that she was almost completely blank, erased.

Finally, she found the courage to shut her eyes again. For the next minute, she willed here eyes to be shut as she waited for it to be over. She didn't wash anything. It was pointless to cleanse a body as clean and new as hers always was. 

She turned the shower off blindly, stepped out, and grabbed her towel off the hook on the side wall. She dried herself without looking and stood up. Then, before wrapping herself up, she stared into the mirrror.

As always, unfamiliar eyes stared back at her. Luckily she at least looked normal by human standards. There was only one time when she hadn't looked human, and she hoped it would never happen again. She stared closely at her new body, studying its shape, examining it for flaws which it never seemed to have. She wrapped herself up and looked away. 

She walked out of the bathroom without taking her old clothes. They would have disappeared by then anyway, and wouldn't have fit her new shape. She laid her towel on the only chair in the small apartment and slipped beneath her warm covers. 

She fell asleep quickly and soundly, knowing in the morning she would wake up fully clothed, with her hair done perfectly, and in the same situation as she always had been.

Tears

Her bare feet softly made their way through the grassy meadow. Warm earth beneath her toes, she walked on. She hadn't found it yet, but she knew she would.

Drowning In Herself

Extracted

Rebirthed

 The world is spinning. I can feel my hands holding my head. I must be in pain, but I am too stunned to actually feel it.

"Have you had enough yet?!" a voice screams in my ear. My senses are quickly returning. I feel someone release my hair and push me forward into the ground. My own hands release my head as well, but my reflexes are too slow to keep my nose from connecting with the gravel.

"Just give it up already! Huh? You know you're too weak to keep doing this." The voice is deep. A man. Probably younger, only in his late 20s or early 30s. But I wont lift my head to look at him. Not yet.

Blood gushes and pools on the road, which I can now see is newly repaved. My fingers are tingling, but the rest of my body is calming. I take a deep breath.

"I wonder what you're thinking now. Contemplating how terrible your death will be?" His hot breath tickles the side of my face. "Or are you willing to finally give in? Give me what I need." I feel his rough hand under my chin. He tries to pull my eyes up to meet his. Its too early. I push his hand away and turn my eyes back to the ground. He doesnt see them.

"Fine. Have it your way." He cocks his gun and I feel it on my temple. Cold, like his fingers. "I'll count to three." Perfect.

"One..." My hands stop tingling.

"Two..." My eyes burn.

"Three." He goes for the trigger, but he doesnt make it. My hand is on the gun first. Then his arms are behind his back and Im on top of him. His face is pressed to the ground, the gun pressed to his temple. I still haven't seen his face and he hasnt seen mine.

"Who are you?!" His deep voice is shaking, full of fear and his words are panicked.

"Doesn't matter." The words roll off my tongue in a weird way. I'm not used to this voice yet. And by the looks of the situation, I wont have much time to get used to it. "I'm going to give you three seconds. Who are you and why are you here?" Even in this new voice I am strong, commanding, powerful.

"I am Leimiah Kurnis..."

"You!"I spit, pressing the gun even farther into his skill. "The world will be better off without you."

"No! Don't kill me. I haven't done anything deserving of death."

"Not yet you haven't. And I'm not going to give you the chance."

With my right hand I pull one of my best friends from my pocket, a small yellow pill. I press a button and the electronic pill begins to beep slowly. Soon the pace quickens. I shove it inside Leimiah's mouth and hear one last beep as he disappears.

Finally, I pull a piece of paper with detailed instructions from my pocket and fold it in my hand. I put another pill into my mouth and wait for the tingling to start and the world to dissolve around me.

 

Broken

The chill of the wind is too much. I pull my hood on, zip my jacket, and shove my hands into my pockets. Then I keep walking.

It was just too much. 

I close my eyes. It doesn't help.

I couldn't take the pain. I couldn't do it.

I try to shove her words out of mind, but the same question resurfaces again and again.

Why did you do it? 

I scream in my mind because I know she isn't here. She can't hear me and she never will again.

Why did you leave me? 

There's nothing I can do to clear my thoughts. Her voice, her words haunt me. I picture them on the paper, but I hear them in her voice and feel them in my body.

The wind gains strength, pushing me even further into my thoughts. I push back, fighting to forget with every step. Finally, I break into a run. Not thinking at all, just moving. My eyes, legs, lungs, and heart burn simultaneously in a rhythm that can only be related to my anger, my saddness, and my escape. My symphony.

I slow down; come to a full stop in front of the house. Everything inside me is on fire., consumed physically and emotionally. I lean my head into the door, not ready to go back inside. I'm not ready to do what I need to do. I don't want to plunge into this all over again. But I have to.

You are strong. Stronger than me. Stronger than I ever could be. 

But I dont want to be strong.

Why do I have to be the strong one?

I put my hand on the handle, open the door, and walk inside, leaving the wind to howl to itself.

Impressum

Texte: Juniper Lee
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 07.04.2012

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