“Panna? Please let me–” He took a step toward the girl in the doorway.
“NO! Get away!” Almost in a state of panic, Panna yelled out and thrust out a hand and shoved the man away from her doorstep and slammed the door.
The man had been shoved back by her shove to nearly the end of her walkway- a strangely far distance even for such an abrupt and hard push. He tried to take a step toward the door, but found his legs oddly heavy and unable to move forward. In his mind’s eye, he could see her angry eyes flashing as she shoved him out of her doorway; the power behind them were blazed into his own eyes, like the residue of a bright light suddenly shone into his eyes but gone, leaving just the red glow behind his eyelids.
Once more, he tried to take a step closer to Panna’s front door, this time using his own powers to add force to his step. He still couldn’t move. The barrier– or whatever Panna had put up unconsciously from keeping him approaching– was strong, stronger than he had expected.
Shrugging, the man gazed once more at the house, then he turned around and disappeared.
---
Inside, Panna shuddered, curled up in a small ball on her favorite armchair. A thousand questions were bouncing around within her head. Who was that man? Why did he try to get in her house? How did he know her name? Was he a stalker? Why did he mention Araeil? Why did he answer ‘yes’ when she asked him if she knew him? After all, she didn’t know who he was. Did she?
In the midst of her thoughts, she felt a slight pop from the direction of the door and heard the bell-like tone again. Disturbed from her thoughts, she looked up.
Nothing.
Wondering if the man had left, she crept up the stairs and peeked out of her window. There was no one there. Glancing up and down the street revealed nothing. He was gone.
Relief poured into Panna like water released from a dam. She sat down on her bed abruptly, and a few moments later, she felt calmer than she had for as long as she could remember. Still slightly unruffled by the events a few minutes earlier, Panna still felt far less disturbed than she thought she would be.
When the phone rang, Panna felt a quick tightening in her chest, but ran to get it anyway. Picking up the receiver, she said softly, “Hello?”
A familiar voice came on the other end, and she stiffened, remembering the one thing she had forgotten to do this morning: go to work.
“Panna, girlie! Where have you been? You’re late for work!” The sharp voice of her boss pierced the quiet of her house like a hot knife through butter. Any tension left in Panna’s body disappeared as she apologized profusely to her boss.
“Don’t apologize to me, girlie! The kids are waiting for you, now hurry up and get your lazy butt down here!” Then there was a click, and Panna was left holding the receiver, feeling slightly chagrined at her forgetfulness.
Rushing through the house, she brushed the other half of her hair, stuffed her shoes on, and jumped into her car, and already, her mind was erasing the events of the morning.
...word count..2616
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
It was the same dream again.
Every night, she dreamt the same dream, over and over again. The dreams had begun soon after her seventeenth birthday. Night after night, the same dream invaded her sleep and forced her to experience it, over and over again, like a TV series that decided to create a season of reruns.
It had gotten so that the images from the dream were ingrained deep into her mind, so that even during the day, if she ever found herself staring off into space, the dream would suddenly appear in her mind’s eye, replaying itself once again.
Every night, it came. It began with the same unknown man, standing on the same, unidentified cliff overhanging the ocean. The sky was a pure, deep blue, reflecting the dark ocean waters below. She watched from behind a bunch of trees and bushes on a nearby island. Surprisingly, the distance between her and the man on the top of the cliff did not take away any of the detail; she could see the piercing grey pupils of his eyes glaring over the ocean. He was wearing a dark brown robe, and her trained eyes could see that he was no commoner, for the cloth his clothes were made of were of the finest silk. However, his hands were strong, and when he opened his hand up against the sky, she could see calluses; he was a man who worked for a living.
She had already had this dream enough times to know what would happen. How he would cast some sort of spell that would create and explosion of light from the center of the staff he was holding, and how the light would spread and crash through her, rushing towards the ends of the world. She had watched it travel until it was just a thin line on the edge of the ocean when she first had the dream. And then, after the light had faded, the man would turn to go, as he always did in her dream. He would make his way back down the cliff and towards the mainland, and, as always, five young girls rushed up to meet him.
The girls would plead with the man, who seemed to be their father, to let them play in the waters. He would let them, and she could almost hear the girls’ laughter as they ran towards the water and dived in, signaling for their individual servants to follow suit. It was a high dive off of the cliff, but the girls seemed as if they were born for the water, and they dived in as if the water was their home. The girls swam into the great depths of the sea, as if they had no cares in the world, and she wanted to scream at them. To tell them to get out of the water, to get away.
But like every time, she could not find her voice. The girls would swim, and suddenly, their servants would transform, lengthening into long, serpentine creatures who swallowed the girls whole and began swimming off into the distance as fast as they could. She sat, helpless, watching as the man whirled around in surprise and fear, as he heard the cries for help from the girls, struggling within their captors. Five of the man’s bodyguards materialized and dove into the water, their long, sleek bodies rushing towards the girls struggling within the monsters carryin them. The creatures seemed to have turned into vessels of some sort, with windows through which each girl peered out. The bodyguards finally reached the creatures and a fearsome battled ensued.
She looked away. What happened was always the same. The bodyguards would inflict much damage, and it seemed as if some of the girls had been injured, as well. But in the end, the creatures had reached the end of the ocean and vanished. Apparently, the bodyguards could not follow into the other world in which the creatures had escaped to. They would return, emptyhanded to their despairing master.
The vividness of the dream always startled her. Every time she had the dream, she would notice something different or new; since nothing changed, she stopped paying attention to what happened with the man and the girls and instead took note of her surroundings. Each leaf, each ant to walk by; nothing escaped her notice after a while.
Soon, she knew, the world would vanish, and she would once again return to the deep, dreamless sleep she so longed for. All that would remain of the dream would be wisps of the vivid images that played through her head.
But something was not right, this time.
She heard a rustling in the bushes to her left. The leaves quivered slightly. She froze in place and cocked her ear towards the sound. That’s when she saw the eyes. Burning, orange eyes, glaring at her from behind the shield of leaves. The eyes flashed, and she felt her insides turn; if she was not already on her knees, she would have fallen, for her legs suddenly had no power.
Then she heard it. The deep booming within her head.
Good afternoon, first daughter Araeil. It is time for you to awaken from your dream. WAKE UP! The voice boomed deep within her head, and it seemed that her very bones were buzzing.
WAKE UP!
And the last thing she could remember before everything blacked out was herself wondering, who was Araeil?
~-~
The light filtering in through the layered blinds of the window was no longer the light warm hues of the morning; instead, the glaring bright whiteness of a sun that was approaching noon seemed to race past the bits of dust floating in the air and strike full force on Panna’s face. She groaned and rolled over, grabbing the edge of her blanket and pulling it over her head to block out the intrusive sun. It was just too early; there was no reason she should be awake at this time of the time, especially since it was the summer. And besides, the dream she just had was just about to get interesting for the first time since she first had it. The noise of the seabirds from her dream was still fresh in her mind, as well as the strange voice in her head that had told her – no wait, had told Araeil – to wake up.
What was that about, anyway? That had never come up in her dream before. Why would it pop up? What were these dreams, anyway? Just some sick manifestation of her mind, replaying itself over and over again? If so, why the same exact thing? What did the man represent? The girls? The creatures? And now, Panna reflected, what was that voice? What were those eyes? And really, who was Araeil?
Panna suddenly stopped her speculation, senses returning to the real world in an instant. There was something missing; it had been bothering her ever since she had woken up, but now she realized what it was.
It was too quiet.
She sat up, tousled hair falling into her face. Where was everyone? Usually she could hear her uncle bustling about in the kitchen preparing his coffee or reading the newspaper. Today, it was just silence. Panna glanced at the window; it was morning, but not so late that her uncle would have already left for work.
Panna headed downstairs, her bare feet padding along silently on the cool wooden floors. She peeked into the kitchen, but everything was undisturbed. It was as if her uncle had not even woken up yet. She ran upstairs and knocked on his door, and after getting no response, she tried opening the door and found it unlocked. She glanced inside, but he wasn’t there, though his sheets were folded carefully.
“I wonder where he is,” Panna shrugged. He must have had some meeting for work early that morning he had to go to and had forgotten to tell her about. Though the neat bedroom was still a mystery– her uncle was not usually inclined to clean up after himself.
Feeling a call from her stomache, Panna went back to the kitchen and made herself a strawberry jelly sandwich. Sitting at the breakfast table, she just stared off at the patterns created from the shadows of the leaves outside filtering in.
Suddenly, she thought she heard a bell-like tone. She looked up and around, but nothing was around. There was once again silence.
Panna was not used to such silence. When her uncle was home, even though there was just the two of them, he usually made enough noise for at least an entire family. He loved to laugh, and his rumbling laughter would always be making the walls shake. Now, even the birds outside the window seemed to want to perpetuate the silence.
Trying to break the quiet, Panna started humming. It wasn’t any particular melody, just notes coming off the top of her mind and finding a place on her lips. As she hummed, different melodies reminiscent of more familiar songs would appear, only to change and fade into something else completely different and unique. Her humming seemed to have a strange effect on her uncle; whenever she began to hum, he would stop whatever he was doing and just gaze at her, a sad, lonely and yearning gaze. Once, she had looked directly into her eyes while she was humming, and what she saw within them just cut her short. She had the utmost feeling of pain when his eyes met hers, though she could not explain why it would affect her so. But ever since, she had avoided his eyes whenever music was on or around; she even stopped humming for a while. Every time she began, the aching feeling would return, and she just felt trapped.
Ding Dong.
The doorbell. Panna stopped her humming abruptly and got up. She passed a mirror on her way to the door and made a grimace at the state of her hair– it definitely needed combing. Seeing a brush on a side table, she snatched it up and began getting the tangles out of her hair.
Upon reaching the door, her hair had been half-smoothed, with only a portion still looking like a bird had decided to nest within it. Tugging the brush out, she set it aside and opened the door.
“Good morning,” a man stood outside her door. The sun was behind his head, so she could not discern his features well. He was tall, though, even though he was standing on the lower ledge, he was still taller than she was.
“Erm, good morning,” she replied.
There was no reply. He just stood, staring down upon her. She could see his eyes now, the piercing blue-green gazing so steadily back into her own brown ones. But the rest of his face still seemed to be hidden in shadow. Or was it just his eyes were shining and the rest of his face just couldn’t be seen in comparison to his eyes’ brightness?
“Can I help you?” she began.
“Araeil.” He said one word.
Panna stiffened. What had he said? Araeil?
“Do I know you?” Panna asked slowly.
He smiled this time, revealing a row of shiny, smooth white teeth. “Yes,” he said simply.
“What?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course not! I have no idea who you are, and I don’t want strangers on my doorstep. You may leave now!” Panna finally found her courage again.
“Ah, I see now,” he murmered, smile suddenly gone, “They made a block. Smart. But it’s cracking.”
“What are you talking about? Leave, now!” Panna demanded.
He looked at her, eyes soft. “I’m sorry. Panna, is it?” Her name bounced in his mouth like some stiff, old morsel of food. “I can’t leave right now. Won’t you let me in? It is a bit too conspicuous for my liking to be standing on your doorsetp trying to explain things.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. How had he known her name? Panna was not a common name, and there was nothing nearby that would give him any information other than her last name, which was printed on the mailbox at the front of the yard.
..word count..2052
Every night, she dreamt the same dream, over and over again. The dreams had begun soon after her seventeenth birthday. Night after night, the same dream invaded her sleep and forced her to experience it, over and over again, like a TV series that decided to create a season of reruns.
It had gotten so that the images from the dream were ingrained deep into her mind, so that even during the day, if she ever found herself staring off into space, the dream would suddenly appear in her mind’s eye, replaying itself once again.
Every night, it came. It began with the same unknown man, standing on the same, unidentified cliff overhanging the ocean. The sky was a pure, deep blue, reflecting the dark ocean waters below. She watched from behind a bunch of trees and bushes on a nearby island. Surprisingly, the distance between her and the man on the top of the cliff did not take away any of the detail; she could see the piercing grey pupils of his eyes glaring over the ocean. He was wearing a dark brown robe, and her trained eyes could see that he was no commoner, for the cloth his clothes were made of were of the finest silk. However, his hands were strong, and when he opened his hand up against the sky, she could see calluses; he was a man who worked for a living.
She had already had this dream enough times to know what would happen. How he would cast some sort of spell that would create and explosion of light from the center of the staff he was holding, and how the light would spread and crash through her, rushing towards the ends of the world. She had watched it travel until it was just a thin line on the edge of the ocean when she first had the dream. And then, after the light had faded, the man would turn to go, as he always did in her dream. He would make his way back down the cliff and towards the mainland, and, as always, five young girls rushed up to meet him.
The girls would plead with the man, who seemed to be their father, to let them play in the waters. He would let them, and she could almost hear the girls’ laughter as they ran towards the water and dived in, signaling for their individual servants to follow suit. It was a high dive off of the cliff, but the girls seemed as if they were born for the water, and they dived in as if the water was their home. The girls swam into the great depths of the sea, as if they had no cares in the world, and she wanted to scream at them. To tell them to get out of the water, to get away.
But like every time, she could not find her voice. The girls would swim, and suddenly, their servants would transform, lengthening into long, serpentine creatures who swallowed the girls whole and began swimming off into the distance as fast as they could. She sat, helpless, watching as the man whirled around in surprise and fear, as he heard the cries for help from the girls, struggling within their captors. Five of the man’s bodyguards materialized and dove into the water, their long, sleek bodies rushing towards the girls struggling within the monsters carryin them. The creatures seemed to have turned into vessels of some sort, with windows through which each girl peered out. The bodyguards finally reached the creatures and a fearsome battled ensued.
She looked away. What happened was always the same. The bodyguards would inflict much damage, and it seemed as if some of the girls had been injured, as well. But in the end, the creatures had reached the end of the ocean and vanished. Apparently, the bodyguards could not follow into the other world in which the creatures had escaped to. They would return, emptyhanded to their despairing master.
The vividness of the dream always startled her. Every time she had the dream, she would notice something different or new; since nothing changed, she stopped paying attention to what happened with the man and the girls and instead took note of her surroundings. Each leaf, each ant to walk by; nothing escaped her notice after a while.
Soon, she knew, the world would vanish, and she would once again return to the deep, dreamless sleep she so longed for. All that would remain of the dream would be wisps of the vivid images that played through her head.
But something was not right, this time.
She heard a rustling in the bushes to her left. The leaves quivered slightly. She froze in place and cocked her ear towards the sound. That’s when she saw the eyes. Burning, orange eyes, glaring at her from behind the shield of leaves. The eyes flashed, and she felt her insides turn; if she was not already on her knees, she would have fallen, for her legs suddenly had no power.
Then she heard it. The deep booming within her head.
Good afternoon, first daughter Araeil. It is time for you to awaken from your dream. WAKE UP! The voice boomed deep within her head, and it seemed that her very bones were buzzing.
WAKE UP!
And the last thing she could remember before everything blacked out was herself wondering, who was Araeil?
~-~
The light filtering in through the layered blinds of the window was no longer the light warm hues of the morning; instead, the glaring bright whiteness of a sun that was approaching noon seemed to race past the bits of dust floating in the air and strike full force on Panna’s face. She groaned and rolled over, grabbing the edge of her blanket and pulling it over her head to block out the intrusive sun. It was just too early; there was no reason she should be awake at this time of the time, especially since it was the summer. And besides, the dream she just had was just about to get interesting for the first time since she first had it. The noise of the seabirds from her dream was still fresh in her mind, as well as the strange voice in her head that had told her – no wait, had told Araeil – to wake up.
What was that about, anyway? That had never come up in her dream before. Why would it pop up? What were these dreams, anyway? Just some sick manifestation of her mind, replaying itself over and over again? If so, why the same exact thing? What did the man represent? The girls? The creatures? And now, Panna reflected, what was that voice? What were those eyes? And really, who was Araeil?
Panna suddenly stopped her speculation, senses returning to the real world in an instant. There was something missing; it had been bothering her ever since she had woken up, but now she realized what it was.
It was too quiet.
She sat up, tousled hair falling into her face. Where was everyone? Usually she could hear her uncle bustling about in the kitchen preparing his coffee or reading the newspaper. Today, it was just silence. Panna glanced at the window; it was morning, but not so late that her uncle would have already left for work.
Panna headed downstairs, her bare feet padding along silently on the cool wooden floors. She peeked into the kitchen, but everything was undisturbed. It was as if her uncle had not even woken up yet. She ran upstairs and knocked on his door, and after getting no response, she tried opening the door and found it unlocked. She glanced inside, but he wasn’t there, though his sheets were folded carefully.
“I wonder where he is,” Panna shrugged. He must have had some meeting for work early that morning he had to go to and had forgotten to tell her about. Though the neat bedroom was still a mystery– her uncle was not usually inclined to clean up after himself.
Feeling a call from her stomache, Panna went back to the kitchen and made herself a strawberry jelly sandwich. Sitting at the breakfast table, she just stared off at the patterns created from the shadows of the leaves outside filtering in.
Suddenly, she thought she heard a bell-like tone. She looked up and around, but nothing was around. There was once again silence.
Panna was not used to such silence. When her uncle was home, even though there was just the two of them, he usually made enough noise for at least an entire family. He loved to laugh, and his rumbling laughter would always be making the walls shake. Now, even the birds outside the window seemed to want to perpetuate the silence.
Trying to break the quiet, Panna started humming. It wasn’t any particular melody, just notes coming off the top of her mind and finding a place on her lips. As she hummed, different melodies reminiscent of more familiar songs would appear, only to change and fade into something else completely different and unique. Her humming seemed to have a strange effect on her uncle; whenever she began to hum, he would stop whatever he was doing and just gaze at her, a sad, lonely and yearning gaze. Once, she had looked directly into her eyes while she was humming, and what she saw within them just cut her short. She had the utmost feeling of pain when his eyes met hers, though she could not explain why it would affect her so. But ever since, she had avoided his eyes whenever music was on or around; she even stopped humming for a while. Every time she began, the aching feeling would return, and she just felt trapped.
Ding Dong.
The doorbell. Panna stopped her humming abruptly and got up. She passed a mirror on her way to the door and made a grimace at the state of her hair– it definitely needed combing. Seeing a brush on a side table, she snatched it up and began getting the tangles out of her hair.
Upon reaching the door, her hair had been half-smoothed, with only a portion still looking like a bird had decided to nest within it. Tugging the brush out, she set it aside and opened the door.
“Good morning,” a man stood outside her door. The sun was behind his head, so she could not discern his features well. He was tall, though, even though he was standing on the lower ledge, he was still taller than she was.
“Erm, good morning,” she replied.
There was no reply. He just stood, staring down upon her. She could see his eyes now, the piercing blue-green gazing so steadily back into her own brown ones. But the rest of his face still seemed to be hidden in shadow. Or was it just his eyes were shining and the rest of his face just couldn’t be seen in comparison to his eyes’ brightness?
“Can I help you?” she began.
“Araeil.” He said one word.
Panna stiffened. What had he said? Araeil?
“Do I know you?” Panna asked slowly.
He smiled this time, revealing a row of shiny, smooth white teeth. “Yes,” he said simply.
“What?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course not! I have no idea who you are, and I don’t want strangers on my doorstep. You may leave now!” Panna finally found her courage again.
“Ah, I see now,” he murmered, smile suddenly gone, “They made a block. Smart. But it’s cracking.”
“What are you talking about? Leave, now!” Panna demanded.
He looked at her, eyes soft. “I’m sorry. Panna, is it?” Her name bounced in his mouth like some stiff, old morsel of food. “I can’t leave right now. Won’t you let me in? It is a bit too conspicuous for my liking to be standing on your doorsetp trying to explain things.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. How had he known her name? Panna was not a common name, and there was nothing nearby that would give him any information other than her last name, which was printed on the mailbox at the front of the yard.
..word count..2052
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