“Now you look like a pirate! There’s nothing cooler than that,” he exclaimed with a grin of satisfaction.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I watch him walk away. I had never known genuine kindness until this moment. Any nice thing London had done for me I knew was a lie.
I spent the rest of the day on that bench. I watched everyone as they walked by and noticed how the adults would not as much as glance at me. To them I was probably a vagrant and I could not fault them for that. I’m sure I looked anything but dashing after my sprint through the woods. I reached up and ran my hands through my hair. No, it ’s not yours. It never was. I cringe at that thought. So many things attached to me were not mine but it had never crossed my mind until I found that damn journal.
Leaning back in the bench I search my memory, I couldn’t remember who she had gotten my hair from, though I ’m sure she had made a very intricate entry about it.
I still damn myself for my curiosity. I should’ve known better than to touch anything that London created yet I had found myself so drawn to the numbers on the journal. They were just too familiar for me not to open it and see.
Looking down at my arm I made sure that I couldn’ t see the numbers. Even though it had been a bright, warm day, I kept my hooded jacket on and my sleeves rolled down. I had enough reminders moving inside of me to let me know that I wasn’ t like the ones walking around me, I didn’ t need another.
I sighed.
The longer I sat here the longer I realized I was alone now. I had nowhere to sleep, no one to talk to, and no mother. I was what I had once read in a book referred to as an orphan. In my situation that should be the better thing for me but I had just left London and so I missed her still.
My insides ticked louder the longer I sat lost in silence. I stood and prepared to move. I couldn’t be found out for what I was and now I didn’t have the one person who made me to care for me in her own twisted way.
Oh stop it. You wanted to escape and you did. Now live as normal of a life as you can. I smiled slightly. Sometimes I wondered if the voice inside me were really my own thoughts or if they were the thoughts of the man or woman she had harvested part of my brain from. I knew it was only half because the other half had to be what she put throughout most of us. Little cogs and wheels, screws and pins; we only looked human on the outside but on the inside we were something much more intricate.
It didn’t matter anymore though. Out of all of us, because I knew deep down inside me there had to be more than just me and the Other, I was the one that looked the most passable as a real man. She had harvested most of my skin from the same person so that there were little to no discolorations noticeable on me. I clenched my fists angrily.
How dare she? How dare she destroy other lives to make us? What were we that were more important than a real live breathing human? Sighing, I unclench my hands and begin to walk quickly. That was London; creator extraordinaire who gave no pity or thought for anything other than what she wanted to accomplish.
I walked until my legs started to stiffen. The sun had gone down some time ago and night had fallen with a cool, crisp breeze as its acquaintance. I found myself in a small park with benches lining most of its sides and decided it would be a good idea to rest until I felt ready to move on. Leaning back I crossed my arms over my chest and closed my eye. It felt nice to sit and feel the breeze go around me like an embrace I had never known before. I sat there and let ticking inside of me grow louder and stronger, blocking out the sounds of the night.
I could feel my body going into its recharging mode and for the first time since I had been “ born”, I actually felt safe as I felt myself slip further and further away.
Suddenly my eye snapped open and I felt my makeshift heart start to beat erratically. I could hear the sound of chains creaking close by and any feeling of safety immediately left me. How could she have found me so quickly? It had not been a full day and already London was here to drag me back to hell.
Shakily, I got to my feet and started to slowly head in the direction of the chains. There would be no point in trying to escape now with my legs still feeling tight. Taking a deep breath I continued as bravely as I could toward the horrible sound until I found myself in a small clearing. There she was on a swing. I knew what that was only because I remembered coloring it in a book she had once given to me when she had been kinder. It was ironic now how she chose this way to come drag me back to torment.
The closer I got the more I realized that something was very different about her. She seemed smaller somehow and there were paintings on her arms. She had a hood over her head and her hair had seemed to grow longer in the few hours since I had seen her. Even her skin color had changed; pale small hands gripped the chain as the strong, small legs swung her higher and higher in the air.
I got as close as I dared.
What had she done to herself in the time since I had seen her last? Had she decided to make an experiment of herself?
London slowly turned her head to the side, which was still shrouded by the long hair and the hood. I wasn’t sure if she had noticed I was there until she gave one more powerful kick and the swing circled over the top of the swing set. Landing on one knee, she looked up at me with dead, dangerous eyes.
Those eyes.
They weren’ t familiar yet they held such an animalistic, dead gleam to them.
This wasn’t London.
What I was staring into the face of was something much, much worse.
Three
Instinctively I backed away and choked back a scream.
She got to her feet in front of me and stuck her hands in her pockets. The moonlight made her look so pale, fragile, and young. Her eyes were captivating, one being ice blue and the other a green I could only have seen in a dream; under the watchful eye of the moon they were given such a magnificent glow to them that for just a moment I felt myself lost in them. I couldn’t let my guard down though, because I knew I just knew she was dangerous by the way she dismounted the swing.
She stared at me for a moment with a great deal of curiosity before speaking.
“What are you?” she asked in a soft voice. I hadn’t expected a voice so sweet to come from something that so closely resembled a monster.
“I... I don’t know really,” I replied answering as truthfully as I could.
“Hmph.” She stood there and took me in. I could tell she was looking at every detail of my being and for some reason, I almost felt as if though she could see inside of me.
Closing her eyes she lifted her head slightly and took a deep breath. The moonlight glistened on a scar on her face as she did it, but I still couldn’t help thinking that she was absolutely beautiful.
“Not human,” she said as she lowered her head and trained her eyes on me again. “Not alive, but not dead and definitely not undead,’ she said with a small grin. “I don’t think we’ll be hurting each other this evening. I’m Finnegan.”
She stepped closer and held out her hand. I stared at it for a moment unsure of what she wanted to do until she let out an impatient sigh and came over, taking my hand and putting it in hers, shaking it up and down.
“What are you so scared of? You seem awfully jumpy,” she said shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
“My mother.”
She stared at me for a moment almost as if she were considering what I said to be false. For someone else to have such a fear of their mother must seem unheard of but she didn’t know the pains I had suffered at her hands. The nights of torment where I would wake screaming in agony because London had either decided to tear off a piece of me for one of her new experiments or make little adjustments as she called them.
Finnegan searched my face for any signs of deception and I could feel myself starting to get angry. How could she not believe me? Had she not known similar torments as I’ ve had? She must’ve because she too bore scars. She scratched her artfully, colored arm and raised an eyebrow almost as if to question w
hat I had just said.
“Yes.”
She looked away for a moment then back at me. Again I had the feeling that she was trying to look inside of me. I wondered what she would think if she saw that most of me was nothing more than used pieces of scrap. Her eyes drifted down to my hands and lingered there for a moment. I looked down and saw that the moonlight made the scarring on my hands more prominent too so I shoved them in my pockets.
“Do you have a name?”
“Three two five seven,” I replied.
Her reaction almost caused me to laugh out loud. The look of confusion was so apparent on her face.
“You don’ t look like a number,” she said with a shrug.
“It’ s all I ’ve been known by,” I reply looking away.
“Is it okay if I make a suggestion?” I nodded as she tilted her head slightly to the side and she glanced up at the sky again. I saw her purse her lips as she searched the heavens but for what I wasn’ t sure until she spoke again. She pointed to a cluster of stars and my eyes followed. “ Do you see that pattern? I know that it’ s hard to see especially with just one eye but I think your name should mean something great,” she said with a smile as she glanced back at me. “That set of stars is named Caelum, and it means ‘ chisel’, you know like an engraver’ s tool,” she said glancing at my arm where I was hiding my numbers. I think that should be your name,” she said looking into my eye purposefully.
“Caelum,” I repeat thoughtfully. This was another being that was doing a random act of kindness for me, how could I refuse? Mother had never given me a name before. Honestly I don’t think it was ever a thought in her head. Maybe if she did she would’ ve assumed it would make me real to her. That’s not love. As it stood the only reason I had only thought of myself as three two five seven because of the journal I found. And here was Finnegan, a complete stranger, putting so much effort into naming me when London couldn’t be bothered enough to care. “Thank you. My name is Caelum.”
“Good. Now that we’ve been introduced, I suggest you get out of this park. Strange things happen here after dark if you can’t tell,” she said with a laugh. “It was nice to meet you and I hope that maybe one day we can be friends.”
Before I had a chance to reply she had turned and ran off faster than anything I had ever seen move and was gone into the night. As I stood there I thought of the last thing she said to me. I never had a friend before and I found myself hoping that maybe one day she would be the friend I never had as she had so generously offered.
A twig snapping broke me from my thoughts. I didn’ t turn toward the noise, but instead walked quickly in the direction which she had ran since I knew it had to be the other side of the park, Another twig snapped and then another. It was almost as if the sounds were getting closer the faster I walked. I still refused to look.
The pace behind me quickened as soon as my own did. I knew I couldn’ t run because I was in enough pain trying to walk as fast as I was already. Maybe unlike death at the hands of London, whatever this was following me now would make it quick and with little pain as possible.
I could almost feel its breath on the back of my neck when to my left something came running quickly out of the darkness letting out a guttural cry. I closed my eyes and crouched down as it quickly tackled what was behind me to the ground.
“I told you to leave,” the voice growled angrily.
Turning, I saw what I assumed to be Finnegan’s small figure as she was now hiding herself partially behind the body that she had so badly crippled with her one blow.
“Leave before this place is crawling. Now,” she shouted at me.
I stood and bit my lip. Fighting away the pain of my cramped and tightened legs I ran as quickly as I could while I heard the familiar sound of tearing flesh behind me.
Maybe I shouldn’ t be friends with her after all, I thought as I fought against the pain. Another flesh ripper was not something I wanted to anything of or be anywhere near. My fear would always over take any emotion I could ever hope to learn if I stayed near Finnegan for too long. I would just carry on with the gift of the name she gave me and try to never think of her again.
My legs started to tighten faster on me the longer I ran. Eventually they gave out as I knew would happen and I stumbled to the ground. I hit the edge of the pavement hard and somehow on the way down I was able to save my face from smashing into the ground. I could only imagine how much more of monster I would look like if I had damaged my face with London around to fix it.
The wind was knocked out of me so I laid there for a moment. Little things like losing my breath made me wonder if the lungs she had harvested for me were full and not altered, but I never did linger on those thoughts for too long.
Pushing my hands against the ground, I got to my knees then slowly to my feet. For a moment I stood there and wiggled my arms, hands, and legs, bent my knees, and swiveled my neck back and forth to make sure nothing had been damaged upon impact. Nothing seemed to be out of place or badly bruised. I attempted to take a step forward and my legs refused to budge; it felt as if they had locked. I tried again, and again neither leg would listen to my mental command.
A wave of franticness washed over me. I wasn’t yet completely out of the park of mysterious and dangerous monsters and here I stood with stiff legs that would not carry me to safety. But I had just been able to bend my knees and move my legs no more than ten seconds ago? Was that the last bit of comfort they would allow me away from this place? How could I have so foolishly wasted such a precious moment in vanity?
The longer I stood with my legs frozen the more desperate and frustrated I became. The only way to be able to get them to work again would be to just stand there and hope that nothing that posed a threat would come to me.
The agony of standing for as long as I had seemed to drag on for hours. I watched as the sky became light lavender with rays of orange lighting up the morning sky like a supernova. I lifted my hand to shield my eye from the brightness of the sun rising and watched in wonder as dawn was upon the world as if a match had been stricken in the darkness slowly illuminating everything that it could. I had only really seen this slightly through the boarded windows in my room but seeing it in all its glory was something much more different. In some ways I felt like a newborn baby seeing the world for the first time. I could hear the animals as they rose from their slumber begin to scurry back and forth. I heard the sounds of birds chirping around me but one distinct sound caught my attention in particular. I strained to listen to the sound as it quickened and knew what it was. If I had the ability to cry a tear would’ve slowly crept down my face I was sure. And then it flew past me and hovered for just a few moments; it was a sparrow. My face began to slowly melt into a smile as I watched it dance a few feet from me as it went from flower to flower. If only I could touch it for just one moment, I thought to myself.
I raised a hand and it fluttered a little further away from me giving me a curious look. Just one small touch; I craned my hand toward its small body. It backed away again but this time I was closer than I had been a moment ago. I looked down and reached for the bird again. I became ecstatic as my leg moved a small step closer. They were starting to unstiffen and move ever so slightly.
“Thank you,” I whispered as I watched it fly busily away from me.
Not wanting to take the chance I stood in the spot the bird had left me for another hour. I counted the ticks inside of me with my eyes closed, not caring if anyone that went by me thought me strange. I wouldn’t lose another precious moment to move forward.
I lowered my face away from the sun and after I had counted 3,600 ticks I decided to try again and this time my legs moved effortlessly. Opening my eye I smiled and looked down at them as I took my first few steps. I decided to move slowly as I did not want my legs to lock up on me again, but after a few moments of taking small steps, I began to walk as normally as I had before. For now I was okay.
The humans bustled around me busily. As
I walked down the hard, gray pavement I watched everyone I could without being obvious. Some were dressed more importantly than others some were dressed like me. The ones that wore similar clothes to the only things I had managed to steal for myself looked more carefree than the others. I couldn’t tell anyone’ s age by looking at them but everyone seemed different and special in their own way. I wondered if they all knew how lucky they were to have been born in the same bodies they had their whole lives and never have to worry about withering away at any given moment.
That’s not something I think any of them considered and I wanted so badly to tell them all but I knew I had to keep to myself. Just because a child and a monstrous misfit had been kind to me, it didn’t mean that the rest of the world would be so accepting. Some of the last bedtime stories London had told me were of the wars that they waged against each other. Honestly I felt that I feared no one as much as her, but now that I was out in the world I wondered if I should fear them as well.
As I approached a crossroads I winced with slight pain. Maybe it was because my legs had the chance to recharge, but the cuts on my feet from her netting were starting to hurt me more now. Adjust the weight of the leg that hurts the most and you’ll be okay.
I had to agree with that thought. I waited for the others around me to move and I started to walk with a slight shuffle which alleviated my hurt more than I thought it would. I liked having these helpful thoughts, even if they weren’t my own.
One thing I did know that came from inside of me and not from my borrowed mind was that I needed to find a place to live. I closed off any other thoughts that might be able to sway me from my new mission and shuffled along as quickly as I could. I crossed more roads than I had ever thought possible before I found something I would think could be suitable for something like me.
I stood in front of what appeared to be an abandoned three story fabric factory. Most of the windows looked like they had been broken and there was a colorful smattering of words on parts of the building. The closer I walked the more I noticed the doors. They were large pieces of wood hammered shut over the entranceway with the words DO NOT ENTER painted across them.
Unwound (The Symphony of Brass and Bone) Page 3