“Oh, Snow, nobody is ever happy. There’s no such thing as a picture-perfect life.” Evie came to an abrupt stop and let out a few curse words. “Oh my god, the photos. I left them on the table.” She darted through people and jumped over curbs.
Luxor supressed the urge to burst out laughing, Evie and running was a foreign sight. She stepped forward, and made her way over to Evie who had found the folder just where she left it when a deep pinch stabbed her side. She let out a yelp, clasping onto a power pole. Closing her eyes, she attempted to breathe through the pain, her stomach churning. With her other arm, she rubbed her fingers to minimise the nausea and impending expulsion of the cupcake. After counting to ten, the pain had subsided slightly and she opened her eyes. She flitted her attention back to the Blazin’ Bakery. Castor and Theo exited the bakery, followed by the woman. She gave them a short, curt nod before going into opposite directions.
Luxor joined Evie who was head banging to the music blaring through her phone. "You are never going to believe what I just saw," she shouted over the music.
Evie paused the song. "Satan eating soul food?"
"Your weirdness is off the Richter scale."
"You missed the joke, because he eats souls, get it?" She rolled her eyes. “Otherwise known as Castor and Theo.”
"I don't think he eats souls, but anyway that's beside the point," Luxor said. "You could be on the right track with the gruesome twosome. They came out of the bakery not long after we did."
"No fudgen way, are you sure?"
"Without a doubt. And not only that, they seemed tight with the woman."
Evie slapped her thigh. "Well that confirms it, there's a Tardis in there. There was nowhere to hide, I checked,” she said. “Imagine they go to another dimension, then I'll be totally jealous."
"This is serious, something weird is happening," Luxor said all too eager to leave.
She kicked a rock against the tin rubbish bin in a not too subtlety way to tell Evie she was leaving and headed to the direction of the creek desperate to leave this madness behind.
By the time Luxor returned to The Chalet she was exhausted beyond belief and ready to collapse mentally and physically. But the moment of truth awaited her. It had been waiting for her for days but obstacles like hurting herself in P.E. had her being pre-occupied.
Luxor crossed her legs in the middle of the bed and paused, cherishing the pouch and whatever it contained. It might not even be for her, but her instincts boomed, saying yes. Her hands trembled from anticipation, and as much as she wanted to rip it open, she didn't want to rush it either. Luxor finally held the same thing her mother did, the closest hand to hand she would ever get. Swallowing hard, she gently grasped the soft, velvet pouch. With precise movement, she carefully, untied the drawstring, and pried open the purple bag.
Two contents tumbled out. Luxor leaned forward and waved her hands over the blanket, and spread them apart.
A letter?
On instinctively her eyes roamed on a piece of jewellery, and she picked up the necklace dangling on a silver chain. Entwining the chain around her fingers, the pale blue, baby pink and sea green gems had streaks of silvery white shimmery patterns throughout them. Holding them up in the air, they twinkled as they clinked against each other. Their colours were enchanting and glossy. Never in her life had she seen anything so exquisite.
Luxor hopped into bed with her mind filled to capacity with everything that had been revealed today. Her eyelids drooped and laying down on her side Luxor fisted the gems, she held them close to her chest. She desperately needed to rest, even for a few moments.
Finally, she succumbed to the darkness.
Luxor returned to the forest in a dark vortex, ready to play the same game, but immediately she sensed something was amiss.
She squared her shoulders and held her nerve as she moved on forward. An outline appeared, tall and imposing, draped in a long black cloak. She could hardly make out his features as he was illuminated, yet he revealed himself, but only an iota. Black strands of hair emerged and peeked out from under the hood, and piercing blue irises shone with a tinge of aqua flickering in them. It was all he revealed, but enough for now.
Luxor gasped and held her breath, disturbed at the two similarities she shared with the hooded man. Positive he had conjured up an illusion to scramble her mind, she tried to erase him from her mind. It was a useless.
Mesmerised by his appearance, for the first time she was able to see him as she moved forward on her own accord. The closer she came, the more her surroundings changed. The forest transformed from a thriving green, to a yellowish brown, the tree limbs wilting and curling. Luxor sniffed the air and halted. Instead of pine and nature, sulphur burnt her nostrils and she gagged.
“Don’t be scared my child, I’m not here to hurt you.” He crouched forth and he too closed the distance. His voice was like honey that dripped from the nectar of the sweetest flower.
“Y-you spoke.” She said calmly, with any unease evacuating.
“Thanks to you, I’m able to communicate with you, my dear offspring, whenever I please.” The hooded man beckoned with his finger, the act more of an order than a suggestion. “Come to me.”
No, this can’t be my father. He’s lying, trying to break me.
Luxor stayed rooted in place and fisted her chiffon dress into bunches. She dared to disobey him and wouldn’t submit, and aide the darkness in her imagination.
“This is a dream, a recurring dream, he can’t do anything to me,” she said to herself although she didn’t quite believe it. His imposing figure injected fear, regardless of the circumstances.
The man tsked and shook his head. He glided forward without a sound, his movements easy and effortless. In a few short strides he reached her, and circled around.
“Stubborn girl,” his lips curling into a chilling yet dazzling smile. He circled Luxor once more as if to size her up. “Just like your mother. But all the more fun to break.”
The mere mention of her mother sent a spear to heart, and she clutched her chest. She attempted to conjure up what she looked like. What was she like? What was her name? And how would Luxor's life have turned out if she had lived? Luxor knew the man hurt her mother, his words proved it. Had her mother had enough she escaped? He sure made it seem that way. What other reason could there be that he wasn’t in her life? If he wanted to play the disappearing father act why bother coming back now.
“What do you want?”
“You of course.” His silken voice cooed, in a serene and calming tone which soothed her like a lullaby.
“Why? To torture?” Luxor whispered, too calmly. Subconsciously she knew the answer, but this was the first time he was able to respond. He paused before letting out a contented sigh. “Answer me.”
“Because you are mine,” he growled, his voice deep as stone. He spread out his arms, and a luminous white light beamed out eradicating any colour.
Luxor snapped out of her daze and let out a shiver as she tried her hardest to hold back the tremors. Again, she felt like his puppet when he used his hypnotisms. Scooting backwards, charcoal ash burned up her back and the souls of her feet. Luxor reclined back and held her one hand against her eyes to shield them from the glow, whilst pressing a palm down onto the ground. She hissed. A sliver of wood pierced her skin and partially embedded under the skin. She winced as she plucked the splinter out.
The light intensified, Luxor’s retinas feeling as if they’d burst from the exposure. Sealing her eyelids closed she rolled onto her knees and held her arms out as she scrambled forth, tripping over her feet. Her heart thundered behind her ribs and she bolted forward, until she collided into a tree trunk, bringing on a twinge of pain. She held her arm and spun around with no sense of direction, praying to eat and every god for the night terror to cease.
The solid surface of the forest trembled, and cracks spread out like vines, the wildlife scurrying to safety. Violet lightning strikes penetrated through the sky, swiping the t
ree tops and branches with an almighty thwack. The heavy pressure caused leaves to rain down, merging into ash as they fell .
Luxor dared a glance and lay in a heap and curled up into a ball to protect herself. Every bit of bare skin was pecked away by the vicious crows, as her skin being was ripped, trickling blood out.
The onslaught of being crushed by nature was a certainty. They continue to fall.
Hard. Fast. And furious. Piece after piece after...
Luxor let out an agonised scream as she bounced about on a soft surface, her head colliding with a softness she immediately recognised as her pillow. The room was dark with not even a sliver of light to outline her furniture.
“What time is it?” She wondered aloud in a daze. A headache pounded at her temples and she had no recollection of falling asleep.
She rubbed the bottom of her palms over her eyes to properly wake up. She yelped and bit her bottom lip tasting blood. Kneeling on the bed she moved about, inch by inch and carefully so she wouldn’t...
Thump.
Luxor tumbled out of bed landing on her knees on the hard floorboards. Holding her arm to the side she felt the edge of her bed side table and hoisted up on her feet. She cried out from her scorched souls and it took all of her strength not to fall again.
“I can’t be still there. I’m awake. This is my room.” Her entire body ached just as it did in the night terror.
Luxor sucked up the pain which covered every part of her body and attempted to orient herself. The clattering of the balcony doors indicated her location. Limping forward she pinched the skin on her arms, over and over and over again, tears accumulating where the crows attacked. She hoped she would snap out of whatever predicament she was in. Every-time she had a night terror the after affects lingered on. But now for this long.
Hot, salty tears trailed down Luxor’s cheek and entered her mouth. She wiped them away with the back off her hand and was about to conceded defeat and ride out this latest torture.
Her father couldn’t be that cruel. Could he?
A shrill screeched on the glass piercing Luxor’s eardrums. She faltered in her step and became ramrod straight, a chill pinching every vertebra on her spine. An ethereal humming clouded the room, embracing her in such positive energy she wanted to bathe in it. The whole world fell away as a whirlwind of air burst in, a breeze from the balcony kissing her skin. She let out a contended sigh, skimming her cheeks. Mercifully, a mist lifted from her eyes, opening up the world again. Luxor tilted her head and the barn zoomed into focus and she could have bear hugged it. As if a sheet had fallen, the agony she had experienced in and out of the night terror eradicated. No scorch marks on the souls of her hands and feet nor scratches from trees and branches collapsing or even when the crows had attacked.
Luxor walked to the glass and the deep smell of sulphur had her staggering back. She puffed out her cheeks to prevent herself from gagging. She sucked up her courage curious to find out the source of the sound, positive she hadn’t hallucinated it. An ache lingered on her eardrum which transmitted a slight echo proved it.
At first glance, nothing appeared out of the ordinary and she couldn’t see anything. She moved her head in all directions until her eyes roamed over a ripple which glint and reflected off the glass. On closer inspection, she noticed the difference.
Four deep grooves embedded themselves into the glass, thin and gnarled. Luxor hesitated and crouched down, her arm outstretched and a few centimetres away from the glass. Her foot scrapped against a glass bowl, and she looked just in time to see the tuna mornay tumble down the gap of the balcony and smash below.
Kitty.
Luxor thread her fingers through her hair and scouted into the distance. She was foggy headed, and the night terror had left a part of her mind numb and not in a capacity to deal with anything. Her consciousness had been deprived of any emotions, her very existence which made her a human, human had been resorted to nothing.
“Snap out of it,” Luxor said, slapping her cheeks. “Be strong, be strong.”
She counted to ten, and then backwards, leaving a pause between each number. Slowly, her alertness began to sharpen, but only enough so she didn’t feel as vegetated as before. She turned to leave and from the corner of her eye a flutter caught her attention, looking over she found not one but two feathers on the balcony ledge.
Her wispy baby pink one, identical to the ones hanging on her dream catcher, joined with a sleek, jade feather, longer and silkier. Ugly black specks sprinkled on along the middle like ashes, but even they couldn’t detract from the allure.
Luxor reached out to them, bewitched by their beauty, and held them in her hands. A searing pain hit automatically and yelped, her hand recoiling. Luxor dashed to the bathroom and lathered her hands up with soap until all residue had been removed.
The day had barely begun when Luxor snuck out of the back door and got to The Hive just as it opened. She headed straight to the back corner and nestled herself into the striped tan and brown couch. After another horrendous night terror and the events in which followed, she needed distance to clear her mind. And an escape from her haunted bedroom. She fumbled around the room and threw on a pair of jeans, plain red t-shirt, and a hooded jacket.
“Morning, darling,” Inez greeted in her usual cheery way, despite the time of day. As if she sensed her mood, she replaced the usual latte with a double espresso and a few pieces of raspberry laden raisin toast with a note beside it. Luxor took a long sip, it tasted bitter but she needed something strong to wake her up. Reading the note, it simply said, “Enjoy” with a smiley face.
From her pocket Luxor retrieved the yellowed rectangular scrap piece of paper which once was a large envelope, and laid it in front of her and smoothed it out. She wanted to read the letter when she was fully awake and clear headed, and only a coffee had the capacity to do that.
My darling Luxor Lily, (You’re a girl, I know it. Dreams are powerful)
If you're reading this, it means my greatest fear has come true and I haven't made it. I'm giving this bag to your Aunt Meredith to pass on to you when she thinks you're all grown up and mature enough to handle the truth.
Please don't be angry with her. She's only doing what I want. I know she will love you as her own, and you are lucky to have a beautiful person to look out for you.
I hope you're getting everything you dream of. Are you happy?
My baby girl, how do I say goodbye to you when I'll never have the chance to say hello? That is what is destroying me the most. I've only had 3 months to connect with you when it should have been a lifetime.
I wish I could have met you or seen what you looked like, but I am not strong enough. I wonder if you have white blonde hair and brown eyes like me, or black hair, and intense blue eyes that almost look aqua, just like your father. Or maybe both. Regardless I don't doubt you will be a beautiful spirit and soul.
You're a real active baby always kicking and can't wait to get out. I would spend all day rubbing my stomach and talking to you. You would love it when I played classical music and would move even more as if you loved it too.
You're really special. And I'm not just saying that because I am your mother. There's something about you that makes you unique, and I'm willing to bet great things are in store for you.
You're probably wondering about you father. He will come to find you, I promise you that, but I fear when that happens. I was young and reckless when I met him, he was the most enigmatic person I had ever met, strong and always looking out for me. I did love him, but he ended up not being the person I thought he was. I'm lucky I had help, otherwise who knows what would have happened to us.
You were always my one and only priority, from the moment I felt you, I knew your life was more precious than mine. All I wanted was to keep you safe. I would walk through hell again if it meant not one person would hurt a single hair on your head.
Trust your instincts my precious baby girl, they are never wrong. Remember people aren't always
what they seem, but I trust you will follow the right path.
I've enclosed a necklace so you can think of me when it's with you, wear it and keep it close to your heart.
I can't wait to see you my precious Luxor, but I hope it's not for a very long time. Then we can be together.
Love mummy –xoxoxoxoxo-
Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes and she wiped them with the back of her arm, and pressure weighed down on her chest as if she was about to combust.
She’s dead.
Luxor held the gems in her hand and reread the letter three times, turning the envelope over, hoping to see more writing, but there wasn’t. The writing was barely legible, mere scribbles written on a slant as if she was in a rush. She was loved, her mother loved her enough to want nothing but to make sure she was happy. Luxor had sentimental information, but nothing that would help with her assignment. There was no expectation or hope, so she wasn't disappointed.
How is this going to help me?
Two items that meant everything but nothing at the same time. At least she knew she was a mixture of her mother and father. But her eyes didn't change until after the accident. What were the chances of her having a distinct colour? Would her eyes eventually have changed?
Nothing made sense in the letter, and she tried to decipher the words. Her mother had written she only had three months to connect with her? Didn't she realise she was pregnant until she was nearly due? That would be highly unlikely, at six months’ pregnant women were as big as a house, weren’t they? And why did she fear her father? Was he abusive? Why was she running from him?
Luxor gripped her hair and at the fact this created more questions. She pulled out a pen from the inside of her jacket and turned Inez’s note over. She needed to purge although she didn’t know to who. She tapped the pen against the tabletop and positioned it on the paper.
Dear Mumma,
I need you and I’m lost. Only you can help me. Who am I?
Unveiled: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone Page 25