Sleepless

Grey couldn't sleep. She very seldom could. As she and Blue settled for the night she would watch the stars above them, far above the tree tops. She would see them lit one by one and after hours of darkness with only the glimmering diamonds that the stars were on the night sky Grey would see them go out, overshadowed by the great sun. A new day would begin and Grey wouldn't have slept at all.
Some evenings Blue would give her a special drink that would make her drowsy but would also make her dream. And Grey didn't like dreams. Most of the time she turned him down, promising Blue she could sleep just fine without that drink. He never believed her but he let her be. He didn't like her dreams either. Not when she woke up either crying or screaming. Blue didn't know what was the worst. When it was at its worst he would rock her to sleep after a nightmare but none of them were comfortable with that solution. Especially not Grey, she couldn't handle skinship very well. Even so she tolerated Blue with great patience. But sometimes she reacted on impulse, she would flinch or even hit him when he gently put his hand on her shoulder.

Merula 4:3

Chapter 4:3- Odd occurences

Cold dead eyes were staring at me. It were Rogan's. This was a dream, I thought, it must be. Rogan can't be dead. I had to wake up, get away from these empty eyes. But then it weren't just eyes. His face appeared from a thick veil of darkness, his nose, his mouth, his cheeks and chin. His neck. It were all white as paper. Suddenly a red line appeared on his white neck. Involuntarily I reached out and touched it. I looked at my fingers, they were smudged with blood. I looked back at Rogan, the red line on his neck was an open cut gushing out the darkest red of blood. I looked into his eyes, searching for a sign of life but his eyes were dead cold.

I was looking into a pair of green eyes sparkling with life. Mandy, thank god.

-How're you doing? She asked with a wrinkle of concern between her well plucked eyebrows. She was leaning over me. -Having a nighmare?

-You know me too well, I answered her and sat up in my bed.

Mandy put a comforting arm around my back.

-Oh my, you're sweaty. Must have been one hell of a nightmare?

-It was, I sighed deeply and brushed back my black hair.

-Got something to do with what happened yesterday?

I opened my eyes wide. What did she know? Did she know it was me? How did she know?

-I heard you got home early because of a headache? Mandy inquired.

-Ah, yes, I answered relieved and with a tad of guilt. -Who...?

-Your boyfriend informed me.

-Rogan is not my boyfriend, I rolled my eyes by the usual nag.

-I meant Morgan, Mandy blinked her eyes a bit surprised.

-Oh.

I didn't have a better reply. Of course Mandy took advantage of my silence.

-So... you're not gonna loudly deny that Morgan is your boyfriend?

-Well... he isn't.

-Sure darling, now it's too late to deny the awkward silence, she teased me.

Mandy rose from my bed and slipped out of the bedroom. But I wasn't far behind but she had already been stopped on the other side of our bedroom door by none less than Rogan. I stayed behind the door, eavesdropping. Damn my curiosity!

-How's she? Rogan asked with a low voice, he seemed anxious.

-Why don't you ask her yourself? Mandy answered irritated. -She's awake now.

Were they talking about me?! Was Rogan asking about me?

-You coward, Mandy called after Rogan as he left the livingroom.

I decided to remain in the bedroom awhile longer to not make it obvious that I'd just eavesdropped their conversation before I walked into the kitchen to join the rest of the Evaeus family for their saturday morning breakfast. I loved their joint weekend breakfasts. They were like hotel buffees and filled with happiness and laughter. Rogan had learnt to tolerate my existence after awhile, a really long while. Tolerate is not the word, it was more like he put up with it as there was nothing he could do to change our situation. Unless he had money stuffed away to buy me a flat. I had the money but I didn't want to leave because no matter how harsh he treated me I rather fight every day then live alone, that's what I had learnt after moving in to the Evaeus home. It was the opposite to the environment I'd grown up in and I long thought I was a lone wolf, that I could take care of myself and easily live by my own without family and friends. Meeting the Evaeus and sharing their breakfasts and dinners had proved me wrong. I was quickly becoming dependent on their love and warmth. I'd reckon it was all due to Hazel's wonderful cooking. Who knew what spices she used to make the food magical.

After breakfast I borrowed Blake's bicycle to meet up with Morgan. He'd sent me a text to meet up in the library, which was unusual coming from him, even more so as it was before lunchtime which was when he usually woke up during weekends. When I at last had found my way to the library Morgan sat at its steps waiting patiently. His blond hair looked almost white in the sun.

-Took you long enough Ed, were his first words followed by the widest of grins. -How many times did you lose your way?

-Around three or five times.

-And exactly how many times have you been to the library since you moved here?

-More than my two hands fingers combined, I admitted.

-You really have no way of direction, Morgan sighed.

-Well thank god for maps on the phone, I smiled at him and parked Blake's bicycle.

-You used maps?

-Only when I got really lost, I said and sat down by the golden boy. -So what's up? Why meet at the library?

-Don't you remember? We, and by 'we' I mean you, decided that we should have a study session at the library. This weekend. For the upcoming test.

-Really?

I'd completely forgot.

-Then I need to get my books.

-You mean it will take you another 40 minutes to go home, get your stuff and get back before we can actually start.

I had to smile. It would take me approx 40 minutes when really should just take like 20.

-Maybe, I answered devious.

-Then I'm coming with you, saving both us some time.

And that's how we ended up getting back to the flat together. It was the first time I'd invited him in. Not that I really invited him but rather he invited himself. Anyhow, I let him in.

Despite the common breakfast when everyone gathered no one was home now. They had all flown out. Well, not everyone it apparently. Rogan walked out of his bedroom as we entered the flat. He took one look at me and then glared at Morgan intensely. He was not happy by the sight of the golden boy.

-We're just getting some books, I said carefully and slipped out of my shoes real quickly.

I practically run to my bedroom before Rogan could speak. The bedroom I had left this morning had been neat. It was neat no more and my books were all gone underneath the chaos Mandy had left behind her. As I was searching for my books on my knees Morgan positioned himself at the door frame, observing me and the room quietly.

-So this is your room, he said at last.

-That I share with two other girls, yes. I would like to point out that this mess was not created by me.

-Aha.

I could hear on Morgan's voice that he wasn't convinced. I rolled my eyes.

-Are you going to help or should I go through this mess alone for 40 minutes to find my books? I asked him.

-Edi, do you really think I should go through a mess created by girls?

I rolled my eyes again.

-Wait outside then, I said with a grumpy voice.

He disappeared and I rummaged through the room as quickly as I could. Damn Mandy! When I finally found my books I discovered Morgan at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in his hands.

-What are you doing? I asked him and glanced towards Blake and Rogan's bedroom.

-Making myself comfortable. Want one? Morgan raised his cup to me.

-We're supposed to go to the library.

-We might as well stay here, save ourselves some time. Morgan took a sip from the cup.

-No we can't, I hissed.

-What, are you afraid or something? He raised an eyebrow.

-Of course not!

No, I was not afraid. Why should I be? This was my home as much as Rogan's. Why shouldn't I be able to stay home and study?! I put my books on the kitchen table and went straight to the water boiler and filled it with more water. Then I prepared my own cup of tea. I reached for the tea in the cupboard but couldn't get it. Suddenly another hand reached for the tea and I was pushed against the kitchen counter. Morgan put his mouth close to my ear.

-You should use a chair when you get the tea, he teased me and brought down the tea for me.

-I'm not that short, I pouted.

I turned around and saw Rogan staring at us.

-What are you doing? He asked.

I didn't like his tone. I put on a stern face.

-Making tea. Want some?

Rogan furrowed his eyebrows,in irritation no doubt, and turned around and went back to his bedroom. I turned back to Morgan.

-So let's study.

-Oh, he whined.

To be continued...
By J.L.Frick

The Sapphire Brothers

Kapella's scarp: Meeting with the dream

He grabbed the thief's scarf and when the moon appeared from behind the clouds stood they gazing at each other for the first time. The thief's hair spread in the wind, it was long and red like a flaming wildfire. His heart beat faster, it wasn't a dream. She was real.

It couldn't be true, she wanted to disappear through the ground, he couldn't be true. He was a dream, a profetia too impossible to be true, he didn't really exist! Her breath quickened. Her cheeks flushed, everything she'd dreamt about him. No. NO!

She throw herself backwards, away from him. He didn't exist, he couldn't exist!

He didn't try to catch her, they would still meet again. His destiny had caught up with him, all the times he had seen her in his dreams and visions. He knew what it meant and he had tried not to think about her, tried to not fall for her. But now he was here and his feelings couldn't be stopped, it was already to late.

As they had finished packing a group of people appeared from nowhere. They stopped away from the camp and one man dressed in uniform walked up to them. He observed each of the members before he walked up to Lespan and deeply bowing delivered a scroll. Lespan read through it quickly.

-We are apparently welcomed to stay at the royal family Kapella's residence during our visit in the city Kapella.

-Hello, but have you seen any castle around here, any less a city?! Thirsty exclaimed.

-Do you except the invitation? The guard asked Lespan while ignoring Thirsty's snide comment.

Lespan looked at his friends, they were all tired and worn out.

-Yes.

They were let into the throne room which was surprisingly large. In the back stood two thrones, both carved from boulders with the same sandy colour as the plain. They closed in and bowed infront of the king who were seated in one of the thrones. Beside him sat a young woman with the same red hair as the king.

-This is my daughter, Kapella Mardina, the king said.

-Is it after you they named the scarp? Thirsty asked.

-No, it's after a myth about a woman who threw herself down the scarp to save her country and lover, Mardina emphasised the last part. -Her lover named their daughter with the same name and so it countinued.

The king cleared his throat.

-I have asked you to come because...

-I'd like my scarf back, thank you, the princess interrupted.

Lespan took a step forward and handed her the scarf. Mardina took it and gave Lespan a beautiful necklace.

-We're even, she said and looked bored at him.

-So you had the neckalce afterall?

-No, some petty thieves that took it.

Mardina turned her back on him and returned to her throne. Lespan went bakc to his friends.

-As I was about to say, the king seemed fairly unaffected by the intrusion, I have asked you to come here. I am honored to even meet the Sapphire Warriors during my lifetime, that you even do us the great honor of staying here in our country and at our residence is unimaginable.

Yes, his name is really Thirsty.^^ This is one of my stories that I consider as the first "book"-stories I've ever written. Mind you, I didn't even came as far as the first chapter but it was the first story I thought that this could be a book and for a really long time I thought this was going to be my first book.

I begun to write it approximately 8 years ago. It begun as project with my friends, we created one character each and I was the one to write the story. My charater was Lespan, he's a very quiet guy with very serious thoughts in his mind. Thirsty was created by one of my friends. He, Thisrty, if I remember correctly, acts more on impulses and is full of humour. When my friend thought of the name she just thought of what sounded okay to her and in the end it became Thirsty. I think it suits him, I think of him as a character that is thirsty of life, knowledge and warmth.

Ok, so I'm going to try to explain the scene above. The group that camps on the plain are Lespan, who's sort of their leader as he is levelheaded compared to the others, then there is Thirsty and Rasty. Those three lads are the Sapphire Brothers or Warriors, whatever you like, and they are famous and all. In the group there's also Marka. They are going to the city Kapella but don't know where it is. So they've walked on the plain till they came to a scarp, Kapella's scarp. During their trip Marka looses her necklace and they think they're being ambushed by thieves. And so one night when Lespan guards Mardina appear. They are each others fates and both have had dreams and vision about each other and their future. And as Lespan's future isn't that bright (he dies) Mardina is terrified when she actually meets him, she always thought they were just dreams. The same goes for Lespan. When he meet Mardina he knows he's going to die. It's very sad.

So I don't think I need to explain anything else... Hopefully not but if you have questions ask away!

//J.L.Frick

Under the Walnut Tree

Under the walnut tree

It all started when I received my grandmother’s will. Or rather, discovered her hidden history.

She died in peace in her apartment in outer London, in which she had always lived in, at least as long as I can remember. My mom was brought up with her two older brothers in that small apartment by grandma and grandpa. Grandma must have lived there since her marriage to grandpa in the early fifties. I can’t believe that she didn’t move when grandpa died, but she resisted that she would remain there. That hopeless old lady. But I suppose she loved that apartment filled with happy memories. Many nights, when mum worked late, I would stay at grandma and grandpa’s. Grandma used to show me the old secretaire with all its corners and tiny draws and hidings which grandpa had given to grandma as a wedding gift. It was made out of beautiful walnut, it had a warm brown tone and looked at home in grandma’s living room. It always was my grandmother’s pride in her humble home, and I have to confess it also was one of the reasons she didn’t want to move when grandpa died. It was too heavy to move and she couldn’t take it with her if she moved to a retirement home, so she promptly shooed away mum and my arguments about such “silly homes”. So she stayed behind in her lonely apartment till the day she passed away, and left her favorite walnut secretaire to me, her favorite granddaughter.

In the middle of my apartment stood the secretaire, still proud and handsome, not a day older. Had it been a man I would have married him. But it was a heavy, immovable desk and it didn’t fit my modern apartment. It stuck out, aesthetically and physically. My tiny apartment was a two-room apartment and the living room was the middle room, to get to the kitchen or the bedroom or the hall or the bathroom located in the hall, you have to move through the living room, where this much adored childhood object was strategically displayed for everyone to see or trip over.

When the movers came carrying the desk, panting after the many stairs to my apartment on the tenth floor with no elevators, I readily showed them into my tiny apartment and in a rushed thought of relieving the men of their burden pointed out the living room. But where else could I put it? The bedroom contained the bed and an armchair where all my clothes were carefully scattered, the hall was narrow and had closets on the right side which contained my clothes and it was therefore necessary to be able to open them and the kitchen was tinier than the closets combined. The living room was the only room able to obtain the old secretaire and even in there it was in the way. I kept walking into it and ended up with blue and yellow bruises on both legs and hips. By the end of the first week of our co-habitation I sat down by grandma’s beloved secretaire and reconsidered my love for the furniture. I started to poke into its many drawers and tried to find all of its hidings that granny once had showed me. The secretaire had been emptied before I got it, by my mum and uncles. It was only the secretaire that I had inherited. All its drawers had been cleaned out properly, not even a fluff of dust left for me to observe. Grandma and I had counted the many drawers several times, there should be 17 drawers in different sizes, whereof 3 hidden ones. But I could only find 2 of the hidden ones. I recounted all the drawers and still got it to 16, 2 hidden. Where was the 17^th?

This is when I called my dear mother. But she had never heard of the 17^th drawer. She only knew there were 16. She asked me if I hadn’t imagined it and I hang up on her. My mum and I don’t get along. So I continued the search of the 17^th drawer without any clues to where it was and without any help. Two hours later and in light of the setting sun, embracing my living room with golden arms, I gave up and sat down to eat my dinner on the window seat. In the golden light I watched the secretaire while munching on some bread which I swallowed down with rich red wine. Suddenly I got an idea. I got down on the rug and crawled underneath the desk so I could see its bottom. The maker’s initials where painted in black, F.D. I searched the corners and found the hidden button and pushed it. The hidden pocket opened up and I curiously stuck my hand right in to it. It was narrow and my not so small hand got almost stuck trying to reach all the way in. Then I felt it, that rough piece of paper from a lost time. I pulled it out and in my hand it was small, not larger than small cell phone, not the iphone type though. The paper was folded and when I turned it around I saw that it was a letter. On the front it was addressed with beautiful curly letters, the ones my grandma always tried to teach me without hope, to:

To Edith Hope

Edith Hope was my grandma, though I had only known her as grandma. Hope was her maiden name and when she married Herbert Grace, my grandpa, she of course changed her surname to Grace. So this letter was written before my grandma got married. I could feel my heart race, equally curious of the content of the letters as me. With careful fingers I opened it up. It contained no letter, only a photo of a young man in his twenties standing beside a huge walnut tree. The photo was in black and white, so it must have been really old. On the back side there was a short message:

Under the walnut tree, I will always be waiting.

Yours truly, Fred Dauncy.

Always be waiting? Was he still there? He must be awfully old and skinny by now. But when was the photo taken and when and where had he met grandma? Because this wasn’t grandpa, that was for sure. I’d seen photos of grandpa when he was younger and he didn’t look this handsome, and his name sure wasn’t Fred Dauncy. Who was this kid!

Working up a temper I sat down by my laptop and hit some buttons furiously till I found some satisfying answers. And I booked a train ticket to travel up north.

-Honey, isn’t this a bit rash. So what if grandma had an affair before she got married… My mum’s tired voice tried to speak some sense into me over the phone. –It probably was just a flirt.

-Saying that you’ll be waiting forever isn’t exactly a flirt! It’s a bloody romance.

I angrily steered the rented car through the winding woods of beeches , it rained and my sight was reduced. Bloody spring weather!

-But it’s in the history, grandma’s dead, so it doesn’t mean anything…

-It’s my family history, I wanna know.

-Oh, dear. Mum sighed deeply. –Fine, you do what you want to do. Drive safely, you hear me, Kelly?

-Yees.

I pressed off the call and took my eyes from the road one second to look for some chocolate in my handbag. The next second I hit something hard, I stepped on the brakes and my head hit the steering wheel. Slowly I raised my head and saw the backside of a deer jumping away through the woods.

-Damn! I wrinkled my eyebrows and picked up my phone to call the police to report the accident.

And they told me to stay put, that they would send a hunter to put the animal down. After that I tried to find any chocolate in my handbag that I could wolf down . Without any success I gave up and left the car to scrutinize the damage made. It wasn’t pretty but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. And it had stopped raining though the wind was pretty harsh, even in the forest. I looked around, the deer couldn’t have got far, perhaps I could find it. I scouted into the forest but couldn’t see the animal. I walked deeper but saw no deer. Suddenly I came to a clearing and in front of me was a huge walnut tree. I dig in my pockets and found the little photo and held it up to compare. It was the same walnut tree, except for the man in the photo and a bench in front of the real tree, it was new. I put away the photo and walked up to the bench. On its back it stood with the same squiggly letters, “under the walnut tree, I always will be waiting”. Except there was no one waiting. Well, what could I expect, the man should be old dotard by now or even dead like grandma. I sat down on the bench with a little sad sigh, I really had hoped that he was still here waiting for grandma to come. I know, it wasn’t logic but it would be a sweet romantic story. I wasn’t really mad about grandma being in love before she met grandpa, but I wanted to know who she was before she got married. I never got to ask her about her life, how it was back then with wars and all. Now that knowledge was lost. This Fred Dauncy had seemed like my last chance to get to know my dear grandma.

Some branches broke and a stranger stood before me in the clearing. The sun shone down on the two of us in the clearing and I think the spring birds begun to sing. It was him.

-Fred Dauncy?

The man smiled.

-Not really, he’s my grandpa. Do we really look so alike? The man answered and stepped forward and reached for my hand. –Adrian Dauncy, the police sent me to shot a deer. And you are?

-Oh, yes, Kelly Grace.

Adrian smiled pleasantly and his brown eyes glimmered. His hand felt warm like the sun.

-Do you always present yourself with your surname first? He said, still smiling.

I wrinkled my eyebrows.

-What do you mean?

-Like the Japanese. Kelly Grace, Grace Kelly.

I looked dumbly at him.

-My name is Kelly Grace.

-I know, I’m just teasing you. Or paying you a compliment. Anyway, I suppose you’re then one who hit the deer.

-Er, yes. But it was rather the deer who hit me.

Adrian laughed and walked off.

-Well I have to find the bugger anyway so…

And he disappeared among the trees. And so did the sun and rain begun to drop again from the grey sky. I run back to my car for shelter and behind it stood a dark green pick-up parked, probably his.

After checking in and finding my room, I instantly undressed and threw myself into a tub filled with warm water and pleasant perfume hanging in the air. I had finally found those little bits of chocolates that had hid themselves cleverly in my handbag and I devoured them pretty quickly while enjoying the warm bath. The grey spring weather was depressing and cold, but the bath refreshed my spirit and so had the meeting with Fred Dauncy’s grandson. So, he was still alive. All I had to do now was to find him. Tomorrow, I thought, put another chocolate in my mouth and sunk deeper into the warm water.

I woke up a lot earlier than I usually would. I wondered why I had woken up. And I remembered my dream. Under the walnut tree, he was waiting. Always had been waiting.

I sat up quickly and put on my boots and went out. The forest was just around the corner and I walked right into it with decisive steps. It didn’t rain but the fog from tonight’s chilly weather was thick. It was almost like raindrops hanging in the air. My hair curled by the wet but I didn’t mind, it was already a mess after last evening’s bath and then I had went straight to bed without brushing it. It was still chilly and I thought that I should have dressed a little more warmer than just rushing out in nightgown and, though in wool, rather thin cardigan. I was glad it was early since I must have been a strange sight, but no one would wonder around in the forest at this hour.

I must have walked for about twenty minutes in the woods when I finally saw the thick trunk. I came from the left this time. And then I saw the bench in front of the walnut tree. On it was an old man, the old dotard that had been grandma’s love once upon a time, before grandpa. He looked the same as in the photo, but of course older. He had grey hair, wrinkles, glasses and he seemed smaller than in the photo. I think I broke a branch because slowly he turned his head to the left. I could see his eyes turn wider when he saw me.

-Edith, he whispered.

I couldn’t help but smile and a tear trickled down my cheek. I brushed it aside and walked up to Fred Dauncy. He stretched forward his hand and I took it and sat down beside him.

-No, sir, I’m Edith’s granddaughter Kelly.

-You look so much like her, my child, I’m sorry if I scared you.

-You didn’t, I smiled sweetly at him.

-But why are you here, dear child.

-I’m here because of a photograph you left in my grandmother’s secretaire, the one made of walnut. She left me it to me when she passed away and I found it.

-I see, so she’s gone.

-I’m afraid so, sir.

I took up the photo and handed it to him. He looked at it and his eyes teared.

-When and where did you meet my grandma? I know you two met before she married grandpa, before she changed her surname from Hope to Grace.

-We stayed at the same country house during the Blitz. I came a year before her and was used to the country but Edith, she was younger and very afraid when she came. So I took her to my favorite place, the big walnut tree with its steady branches which you could easily climb as a child. Edith and I became very good friends and we adored each other a lot. But when I was old enough, I joined the army and took part in the war and I lost all contact with Edith. One summer after the war I returned to the country house and the walnut tree and I took that photo as a memory of those years.

Fred pointed with his old wrinkled finger and smiled at me.

-I settled down in this area and begun to make all kinds of furniture. When I found Edith again she was getting married and she looked happy, so I thought that at least I should give her a gift. I made a secretaire out of walnut and sent it to her fiancé and said it was a gift from an old friend of Edith’s and hoped that they would appreciate it. I left that photo well hidden.

Fred shook his head with a little smile.

-You made that secretaire? I asked and remembered the initials F.D.

-Yes, just so she would remember our happy time together. The photo was to remind her that I would always be her friend. Do you think she knew?

He looked weakly at me and I felt my cheeks wet.

-Oh yes, she remembered you, all her life. That secretaire was the center of her home, it was her pride. She often showed me all its drawers to me as a child, she taught me to love it. But not did you wait for her all your life, did you?

I looked afraid at him, and he laughed heartily.

-No, no, I married and got three children and now I have seven grandchildren.

-Yes, that’s right. I met your grandson…

-Adrian.

-Yes! I thought he was you.

Fred laughed and I could understand why grandma had loved him. His whole being shined and the air felt warm.

-He remind me of a young me. Just like you remind me of Edith, the same spirit and joy. You have her eyes, like blue forget-me-nots.

-I don’t look like Grace Kelly then? I muttered.

-You’re even prettier, the old man said with a voice of velvet.

He turned his eyes to the blue sky and the bird sung their morning tune. I took his hand and he squeezed it gently and looked into my blue eyes before he closed his own walnut brown eyes. We sat there and listened to the world awakening.

-But I always waited under the walnut tree, if you would return to me. And now you have, Edith, now you are here with me.

The funeral was held a few days later and I sat in the back of the church, crying more than I had ever done before in my life. I searched my handbag for chocolates to soothe me but as always my handbag kept them for itself. I needed to get another handbag, one that didn’t steal my chocolates, especially not when I needed them the most. I had bought a new black dress to wear for the funeral and I had bought some forget-me-not to put on Fred Dauncy’s grave. Afterwards I wondered into the forest and my feet took me to the walnut tree. On the bench sat Fred’s twin and grandson Adrian, dressed in black and with his head in the palm of his hands. When I sat down beside him he lifted his head and looked into his walnut brown eyes filled with tears.

-Oh. Grace Kelly, he said with a sad smirk. –I saw you at the funeral.

-Yes.

-Why are you here?

-To put flowers by the tree, I answered and held up the forget-me-nots.

-His favorite flowers. How did you know?

-I didn’t, I just thought… that they would be a token of love from my grandmother.

-Oh, so your grandma knew my grandpa.

-Yes, a long time ago, during the war.

-Your grandma was Edith Hope? Adrian turned to watch me.

-Yes, how…?

-He told me all about it, about the secretaire and the photo. You see, he had a photo of this tree, in it he and a girl sat on its branches, and as a child I asked him who that pretty girl was and he put me in his knee and told me a story that begun with “Once upon a time under the walnut tree I met a girl with eyes like forget-me-nots and her name was Edith Hope”. He used to walk here every morning and sometimes I followed him. When he got older I made him this bench, I carved the words on its back for him. So, you are Edith’s granddaughter Grace Kelly?

-Kelly Grace, yes.

Adrian smiled at me.

-Do you know who has the secretaire now? I would like to see it.

-Well, you have to follow me all the way home then.

In the middle of my apartment stood the secretaire, still proud and handsome, not a day older. The secretaire was the heart of my apartment, it stood firmly and looked beautiful in the evening sun. It’s corners were smooth and it turned the living room alive with its warm walnut colours. Behind it sat my husband, writing down the history of his grandfather and my grandmother’s life. Behind him, I sat in the window seat with my feet placed on his warm back, drinking some red wine and eating chocolate. On top of the secretaire was three photos, a young Fred Dauncy in front of the walnut tree, Edith and Fred climbing the walnut tree and the third was my and Adrian’s wedding photo. Under the walnut tree.

So what do you think? No sci-fi or fantasty, just a plain old love story (which I realised, as I skimmed through it, has some language problems^^). It's not really a coincidence that the grandma's named Edith, same as Edith Sword in Merula. I love that name. I wrote this short story a year ago for a competion but in the end I didn't send it.

Pub scene

-Blue, Grey whispered and poked him with her elbow.

He looked confused at her but she nodded to the other side of the bar. Leaning against the bar stood a middle-aged man with a foxy appearance. His clothes were in perfect shape despite the horrid weather and on the bar lay his top hat in the same beige colour as his suit. On the chair beside him lay big heap of dark clothe, supposingly the cape that had covered the man from the heavy rain. His shoes were somewhat smudgy but no one would look at his shoes as he distracted them with his dramaticly waving hands demonstrating something.

-He looks familiar, Grey said quietly across the table.

Blue wrinkled his eyebrows and looked closer at the man by the bar. He couldn't find anything familiar about him at all. That was until he mentioned the Land of the Silver Trees.

-Oh sure, it rains there as it does everywhere in this world but the rain is like silver when it falls among the silver trees. It's a beautiful land and silver trees everywhere! The man at the bar told the other guests of his adventures. -And you know what? The war hasn't reached it yet! In fact, their land is so unspoiled I don't think the war has even touched it.

-Not touched it?! What's this fairyland you talk of? There isn't one part of the world the war hasn't touched and destroyed at some point in our bloody history! A man exclaimed.

-Surely they've taken part of the war somehow?

-Taken part of, yes, you're right, their men has fought in our wars. Did you know some of this war's finest assassins and mercenaries actually come from the Silver Trees?

-Like who?

-Oh, you'd be suprised. The man with the beige suit waited to prolong the suspense. -Are you familiar with Grey and Blue?

-I heard their working for the our army now.

-Does this mean they're on our side?

-Stupid! They're mercenaries, they get paid to fight on our side.

-Blue, we need to leave, Grey said.

-But he knows us, if he sees us...

-Now!

But the man dressed in beige wasn't done yet.

-And.... the Shadow.

That sent the pub buzzing. Many men draw their breaths. The Shadow was well known and feared. An assassin that moved through the shadows, at least so was the myth. How could you kill a man who hid in the shadows?

Grey stopped and stood completely still. Sure she had heard about the Shadow before but never had she heard about him being from the Land of the Silver Trees. Maybe this Shadow was the man she was looking for?

I'm sorry for not posting anything lately (and with lately I mean months, SORRY!). To be honest the Merula-story wasn't going the in the direction I had hoped for so I had to stop and think. So I've been doing some thinking and I've come up with nothing. Oh well, not nothing just not anything good enough. So Merula is for now put on hold.

This scene above is from a story I've been working on for the last month, although the characters and the basic plot were created years ago. So the main characters are Grey and Blue, which of course aren't their real names as they work as mercenaries in a foreign country in a time of bitter war. Their true intent with their work is to find a certain man... and kill him.

I'm not revealing why in case I'll post something later on. Hope you enjoyed this little bit, although is was only a draft, it still has a lot of work to be done.

//J.L.Frick

Merula 4:2

Chapter 4:2 -Odd occurrences

Morgan led me out of the classroom. My legs were shaking and my mind was fuzzy with thoughts. What has just happened? Was it just my imagination or had I...? Was it my fault that the lamp exploded? How did I do that? What if someone got hurt? But I had wanted for someone to get hurt. I had wanted to hurt Rogan. What if I killed him? I met Rogan's brown eyes among the students. He stared furiously at me as always. My knees gave in. I had almost killed him. For what? For a little attention from the teacher.

I could hear the other students discuss this strange occurrence. Were they afraid? Terrified, like me? Did they know, did they suspect me? I could feel their cold stares, their vicious grins and hear their mean laughter. They knew., didn't they? My heart beat faster and harder. I felt caged. I couldn't stand their stares. I had to get out of there.

-Edi, are you alright?

I could hardly distinguish Morgan's voice, my racing pulse filled my ears. I think I nodded weakly to his question. I tried to stand and Morgan helped me up.

-Out... I need..., I tried to convey to him.

-I'll help you, he answered and led me through the buzzing bunch of students.

I don't remember how but Morgan managed to take me to the nurse.

-She's in shock, a little rest and she'll be fine. Don't give her anything to eat or drink before she has recovered from the shock, alright? The nurse instructed Morgan after she'd examined me.

-Yes, ma'am, Morgan said and saluted.

I know he did it to make me smile but I couldn't smile.

-You know, you're pale as snow, Morgan told me.

-I think I need to go home.

-I'll follow you.

-No thanks. Don't use me as an excuse to get out of class.

-I'm not, Morgan tried to look innocent with his light blue eyes and held up his hands in surrender.

After half an hour in the flat I was thinking that staying in school would have been better than dealing with my crazy head. It ached terribly and made it impossible to think straight. I couldn't figure out what had happened or how it happened. Worst of all was the guilt. I had almost killed Rogan. I could have killed him. Every turn I took in my head I kept coming back to how I almost killed him. I could see him dead before me. His chocolate brown eyes were motionless and cold, his body stiff and strange-looking. Tears kept coming every time I saw him lifeless and tears aren't a good cure for a headache. My head grew heavier. I tried to sleep it off, I even took a pill despite my fear of pills but nothing would rid me from my headache. It was worse than ever before. I could hardly see straight.

That's when Rogan returned home. I was in the kitchen, forcing myself to swallow another pill as he first one hadn't worked. I heard the door close and I could hear from the motion that it was him. I hoped he would silently vanish into his room. Fate wanted otherwise. He walked straight into the kitchen.

-How can you skip school just because a light bulb broke? His voice had its usual edge in it.

-It exploded, I said weakly.

-Have you always been this lazy? If you was going to stay home you could've at least cleaned up after you.

No matter how guilt-ridden I had felt when I was alone with my aching head another part of me still hated Rogan sincerely. How could he just walk in and start complaining?

-Could you stop spreading your things around the flat? Rogan said irritated.

-What do you mean? I asked tiredly.

-It's such a mess! You know this isn't your home. You just live here.

It had been a long day to begin with. This was the shot in Sarajevo. I could feel my tears creeping up in the corners of my eyes. I turned around so he wouldn't see my tears and tried to find my stuff in the general mess of the flat. I couldn't see any of my things which made the situation even worse. I was wrongly accused. I swallowed and turned around with a sassy smile.

-Could you be so kind to point out where my stuff are exactly as I can't seem to recognise them. At all.

Rogan's eyes flashed and I could hear him grit his teeth before he searched the living room with his eyes.

-Those earphones...

-Your little brothers.

-That sweater...

-Mandy's.

-That book.

-Blake's, jeez Rogan, do you think I would ever read something about some football player? I sighed.

And Rogan grit this teeth once more.

-That scarf, he tried again.

-Adeline's. Can I leave now?

I needed a nap or at least a break from Rogan. My head was killing me.

-Ah, those notes are yours.

Rogan proudly held up some sheets with a victorious and vicious grin. I lost it. He was so desperately looking for things to bring me down and I couldn't take it anymore.

-Those are YOUR fucking notes, Rogan! Leave me alone!

I stormed into my room which wasn't my room and shut the door that wasn't mine either before my knees gave in for the second time this day. I was torn between guilt and hatred. But with each breath I took my anger grew. I didn't even want to let it go, I didn't want to settle down and relax. My body shivered in anger.

And so did the room. It quivered around me and the light bulbs flickered anxiously. The room filled with tension. It was as if my surroundings came alive nourished by my anger. I wanted to believe that it was my splitting headache that made me delusional but when the old heater's water begun to boil I could no longer hide from truth. It was me, I was making the room quiver and lights flicker and the heater boil with fury. Terrified I opened the door and rushed out. Right into Rogan's arms.

-What! He said irritated and glared down at me. But he didn't push me away.

-Something's wrong... with the room, I said weakly, I couldn't tell him that I thought it was my doing.

He pushed me behind his back and slowly approached the bedroom. He pushed it open with his foot and took a quick look inside.

-There's nothing, he said at last.

-Well, I knew you wouldn't..., I begun to defend.

-Oh, I believe you. I felt it too. The whole flat sort of vibrated in anger.

I stared at him with large eyes and Rogan raised an eyebrow.

-I don't have any other way to describe it, sorry if it doesn't suit you.

-No, no, it's just that's exactly how I felt too. I thought my headache was playing with me.

-You have headaches? Rogan asked astounded.

I glared at him, who's fault did he think it was?

-Yes, like any other human being.

-Sorry, I meant it more like “you have headaches as well”, I also have headaches. More than usually. Since you came.

-That's probably because you go around and irritate yourself on my existence and fight every second breath you take.

-Not true.

No? was what I wanted to ask but I kept it to myself and sighed. Deeply. My hands was shaking nervously and I knew that if I didn't find a chair soon enough my legs would crumble too. I walked slowly into the kitchen, the furthest room away from my bedroom except from the bathroom but I didn't want to sit in there and wait for my legs to stand on their own. Rogan followed me quietly, watching me as I with shaky hands pulled out a chair.

-You want something to eat? There's soup from yesterday, Rogan said gently.

It surprised the both of us.

-Yes thank you.

I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and my stomach was growling. Rogan reheated the soup and sat it down in front of me together with a glass of water. Then he sat down opposite me.

-How's your head? He asked.

I blinked at him. Was he asking me how I was feeling? This was not like him. First he gave me food and now he asked me about my health. I couldn't hate him at the moment.

-It's better, it's just a small nibbling now. I suppose the second pill really helped.

-You took two pills? You don't even like pills.

-Well, that's how bad my headache was, making me resort to unimaginable resolutions. But my headache's almost gone now so it's worth it.

-How long have you have headaches?

-Since I met you. But it's only natural since we fight all the time.

There was no disagreeing with that. All we did was fight and most of the time the reasons for our quarrels were silly or non-existent. Maybe now was the time for peace.

-Do you think...? I started humbly to build a bridge between us.

-No.

Was he rejecting my stretched out hand for peace?

-I haven't even finished my sentence, how can you just say no? I questioned him. -Do you know what I was going to say?

-No, I won't make a truce with you.

How did he know? Could he read minds?

-What are your reasons? I said and tried to act resolute.

-Do I need a reason?

-Of course...

-You're a bother.

-Hah, how can..., I hardly knew what to say, I was so stunned.

-You wanted a reason, Rogan shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the kitchen.

To be continued...

By J.L.Frick

Merula 4:1

Chapter 4:1 -Odd occurrences

I was late for my piano lesson. I run around the last corner and immediately backed around it again. I don’t know how I succeeded to run into Rogan again. What was he doing outside the piano room this time of the day? The last few weeks had been nothing but endless fights and quarrels with Rogan. After a day in school my head ached terribly and not even after school could I avoid the cause of my headache. Nowadays not even a good night's sleep could rid me of this throbbing headache. I was tired. The two things that kept me going was Morgan's smile that never seemed to end and playing the piano. Last week miss Helen had given me a beautiful piece that I'd almost mastered after a lot of alone practice during breaks. Every time I played it I imagined three little girls dancing ballet around me and the black piano. They were smiling brightly and laughing while doing their pirouettes. For the moment playing the piano was the only thing that made me really happy.

I peeked around the corner. Nope, Rogan was still there and it didn’t look like he was going to move. Oh well I couldn’t hide forever and I was already late for my lesson. As boldly as I could I stepped out from my hiding place and with my head held high I ignored Rogan and walked into the piano room. I would have succeeded except… Rogan grabbed my wrist and with a firm grip that I knew would leave tiny bruises he kept me from entering the room.

-What are you doing here? He asked coldly.

-I have a lesson, miss Helen is expecting me.

-You play?

He sounded honestly surprised.

-Yeah, I answered and hoped that I sounded at least a tenth unaffected by his question as I wished I was. But in reality I was burning with curiosity and anger. Why did he bother to know if I played piano or not? What did it matter to him?

-Which days do you play?

-Why do you wonder? I glared at him.

His grip got firmer as a result.

-Tell me, he said through his teeth.

-Let me go first, I said, I wasn't going to let him win.

For a moment I didn't think he would release me but he did. Instead of holding me back he blocked the entrance of the room. He wouldn't let me escape that easy.

-I play Tuesdays and Thursdays, I said and tried to enter the room. I must have been stupid to really believe that he would let it go that easily.

-Mornings or afternoons? Rogan asked.

-What time is it now, Rogan? I crooked one eyebrow.

He ignored the sarcasm and kept asking questions.

-Are both lessons in the morning?

-Yes.

Where were he going with these questions?

-And those are the only times you play the piano?

What did he mean? What did he want to know?

I sighed.

-What are you doing Rogan? Figuring out a stalking scheme?

-You are so full of yourself. I want to know when you are here so I don't happen trip over you in surprise.

I wrinkled my forehead. What did he mean?

-I also play piano, he said unaffected.

-No way, I said less unaffected.

My eyes must have been wide as the sky with surprise.

-When do you play? I haven't seen you here at all.

That wasn't true, I had seen him repeatedly the last few days hanging around the piano room but he had never been inside.

-Afternoons, Fridays.

So what was he doing here all the other times?

-So there is no way we could run into each other then, I stated.

-But you only play during those times, Rogan asked again. -No other times?

I suppose I had to tell him if it was avoiding me he wanted to do. Ouch, that hurt.

-No.

This time it was Rogan's chocolate brown eyes that widened in surprise.

-No?

-No. I'm allowed to play here whenever the room is empty. Miss Helen even gave me a key if the room would be closed.

It must have been first time Rogan didn't have anything to respond.

-Jealous? I teased him.

Before he could defend himself miss Helen turned up in the hallway.

-Oh Edi, you're here now. I was just grabbing some coffee, she said and held up her cup. -Oh, Rogan, what are you doing here?

Miss Helen threw her blond hair dramatically over her shoulder.

-We're playing I Giorni by Einaudi Ludovico. Do you want to play together, you two?

-What?! I probably jumped in surprise but how could miss Helen even suggest it?

-Oh, I've heard the rumours of you two, always fighting whenever you get the chance. Everybody else thinks you two hate each other but I think it's the opposite.

-It's not the opposite! I protested . -I actually hate him!

-Oh, ok then, miss Helen shrugged her shoulders. -My fault. Should we start? See you on Friday, Rogan.

Miss Helen walked into the classroom leaving me and Rogan alone. He still didn't say anything. What was he thinking?

-Well, now you know. So just avoid me, will you, I said and closed the door with a flare of drama.

-How's your head? Morgan asked and knocked gently on my forehead as I sat down beside him.

It was the first lesson of the day, biology, and the teacher was late as always. Morgan had already prepared himself for a long nap. He had built a small hill of biology books which he'd covered with his jacket. Had this been front row the teacher would have sent him to the headmaster before he'd even laid down his head on his home made cushion. But as always we were seated in the far back and the biology teacher had bad eyesight so Morgan wouldn't get caught. I still couldn't understand what he was doing in this class. Hadn't the teachers noticed that he didn't really follow the speed the rest of the class was rushing off in.

-It hurts, thank you very much, I said sarcastic and then smiled at him.

-Oh, it'll pass.

-You think? I've had this one for at least a month now.

Morgan wrinkled his forehead and observed me.

-That long, huh? Maybe you should stop quarrelling with your boyfriend, Morgan teased me.

Morgan was very well aware of the situation between me and Rogan. He actually knew most of my secrets already. It was as if I had been waiting my whole life for a friend like this and then handed him the thick book that my imaginary diary was. The worst part is that I never thought twice before revealing every little detail of my life. I sort of naïvely trusted him not to pass on my secrets to anyone. So far he hadn't told a single soul.

-You know, I actually think he's stalking me just so he can fight with me.

-Based on what?

-I run into him this morning, a long time before the school starts, outside the piano room. For a first, what did he do there at that time? Secondly, he kept asking me questions about when I play and so on. And as an explanation he tells me he plays piano as well!

-You play piano?

-What? Haven't I told you that?

How many surprises did I have to take this morning?

-Maybe I wasn't listening, Morgan smiled playfully.

-You never do, I smiled back at him.

The teacher finally arrived and the lesson could begin. Biology was one of my favourite subjects, it was easy which made it fun. Unlike chemistry that I had to struggle to understand at all. The downside of the biology lessons was that the teacher had bad eyesight which practically made me invisible seated in the back as I was. So no matter how long I held up my hand the teacher couldn't see me. He did see Rogan, who was seated up in the front. Rogan was practically answering the questions before the teacher even asked them. It was silly, I know, but that was the sort of thing I got jealous of. Today especially since I'd been studying real hard for the upcoming test and I had prepared questions about this topic. I didn't want to wait until the lesson ended to be able to ask my questions just because Rogan was monopolizing the teacher. I stretched my arm a bit further, waving it discreetly from side to side, hoping that the teacher would notice the motion. But no.

Frustrated I tried to hold back, I didn't want to yell across the classroom. The fluorescent lamp hanging just above me begun to flicker. It always begun to flicker around this time, it was old and needed to be replaced. The teacher laughed, probably because of something Rogan said. I gritted my teeth. Then it happened. All of the lamps in the classroom begun to flicker. The students wake up from their half coma distracted by the flickering lights.

-Oh, these damn old lamps, the teacher cursed making the class laugh.

-I'll turn them off, Rogan said and walked to the switch.

But before he could turn them off on of the lamps exploded and the students screeched.

-Ah, we better end this lesson, the teacher said and the students rushed out of the classroom.

It was only me and Morgan left in the classroom.

-Are you alright? Morgan asked me.

He didn't seem disturbed by the flickering lights or that lamp just exploded out of nowhere.

-I'm fine, I said weakly, I couldn't grip the reality.

-Let's get out then, it'd be strange if we were the only ones left.

To be continued...

By J.L.Frick

Edith Sword

So once in awhile I sketch my characters. Hope you can read my handwriting, it's not many people who can. Sometimes even I can't read what I've written.
If you have any questions about the characters, the story or the grey society they live in just ask away.

The Sun God (idea)

-Are you trying to fool me into believing that you're the Sun God?
-Yes!... Well, not fool you, he put on a disturbed face. -But... I am the Sun God.
He throws his arms around as if to prove it. She looks at him suspiciously.
-I don't believe you, she says.
His wide smile fades away, he looks sad.
-Why not? (dog eyes)
-Well, everybody knows the Sun God shines like the sun and not even one insy bit of you shine. If you were bold perhaps your head would shine, but in comparison to the Sun God...
-But I do shine! It's just that I can't shine all the time and especially not when I'm visiting ordinary people. They'd go nuts if I showed up shining all over the place. They would think the sun was crushing into the planet or something. And you'd probably get blind as well.
-Well if you ain't shining I won't believe you.
He sits down, loosing fate in how to convince her. Then he shines up.
-There is a place on my body that always shines.
He starts taking off his gloves. A bright yellow light fills the room. She is amazed.
-I don't know why it's only the hands, a mistake I suppose, but it came in handy now anyway. Hah! Did you hear, come in handy. God, I'm funny. Hah! I did it again, GOD I'm funny, you know?
He puts his gloves back on.
-So now you know who I am.
She's too amazed and doesn't utter one word at all.
-Now that I think of it, I don't know you, he says.
She gets herself together and respond to his question.
-Oh, what a surprise, you don't know me, she says dryly.
-Well, I don't recognise you either. Don't think I've ever seen you. Who are you?
-I'm... What a stupid question, how could you know me? she questions him upset.
-I know everybody, he answer completely honest.
-Impossible.
-Not at all. I see the lot of you everyday. I know everyone from the time they were born until the day they die. But not you.
She turns away, ignoring the question hanging in the air. She can feel his eyes looking at her.
-Well I don't visit the temples that often, she says as an excuse.
-That I don't care for, go if you like, I'll see you anyway. Except you.
He looks around and sees a black coat hanging on a hook on the wall.
-Is that your by any chance? he asks.
She follows his outstretched finger and realise it's her coat he's pointing at.
-No, she answers shortly and puts it away.
-You're one of those anti-people, he realises and stares at her with fear.
She sighs deeply.
-Not exactly, she says glum.
He rise his eyebrows questiongly.
-It's complicated, she says even more sullen.


I think an explanation is in order. This little thing you've just read is just a draft of an idea to a story, which I thought I should share as I found it funny. Don't expect more of this story in particualr but I might post other short stories like this, stories that makes me smile. Also this is a way for me to practice other writing techniques and see how they fit me or the story. As usual, if you have any questions feel free to comment.

//J.L.Frick

Life, short stories

Not love but a tiny feeling of possession

I've found someone. Someone that I like, not love because I don't love. I've realised it now that I'm not a person who loves, not another person at least. Sure I love my parents and my friends but I don't love love. I can fall in love, I can feel the sensation of a spring crush but I don't fall deeply in love as if I can't live without that person. Passion, one might call it. I don't feel that for another person.

But now I've found someone. Someone who think alike, who have the same interest as me, who have the same experience as me and who I think I could enjoy being with maybe for the rest of my life. No, I don't love him, I've just met him. So I just slightly like him. And it's not "just" met him, it's more like I've met him once or twice each week for about two-three months.

Now comes the silly part of the story. I still don't have his number. And if I don't get it soon I won't be able to contact him for about three-four months. My plan is to ask him directly but the right moment never occurs. I could ask another person who I know has his number but that just doesn't feel right, it feels silly, childish and embarrassing. Like shouting "I love you!" on a crowded street. But then again why should it be embarrassing? I do like this person and I want to keep in touch over the summer. I'll just think I'll keep it as a last resort.

Then it's this tiny, tiny feeling of guilt. I like him, but it's not even a crush. If it was a crush one would (normally, not that anything is normal in this world) go around thinking about that person all the time. I don't. But whenever I know that soon I'll see him I'm happy. Does that count as a crush? In my mind it doesn't. But (there's a lot of buts) I think, no I have feeling we would get along really well together. So far we have. We have many things in common, not that it should matter if you're really in love but I'm not as I've already explained so it does matter to me! This makes me feel slightly possessive or connected and I don't won't to let go of him. To put it simply: he's mine but I don't love him. That's why I'm feeling guilty. Not that he is mine... I don't even has his number!

This is a bloody trap set up by fate!

By J.L.Frick

Merula 3:3

Chapter 3:3- Headaches and stalkers

I was stuck. Somewhere dark. Suddenly a flickering light exposing the surrounding. A light bulb hung slightly ahead of me. It stopped flickering and spread a steady light in the darkness. There was someone else there. I could just hint the profile of a person standing in front of me. The person opened its eyes. They were dark brown. The person’s mouth was stiff. Then the lamp started to flicker again and I couldn’t see the person’s eyes. The light bulb turned black and then light again. The person’s eyes weren’t brown anymore. Now they were light blue, piercing through me. The person smiled. Then the light bulbs started to flicker again and after every flicker the person’s eyes changed colour. Brown. Blue. Brown. Blue. The lamp begun to swing from side to side like a pendulum clock while its flickering increased. I could hardly see the person in front of me but I knew the eyes stared at me. I could feel a cold breath on my neck and cold fingers moving up my back leaving icy kisses on my skin. Then warmth spread from my toes through my veins to my heart. It was like a fire growing with each breath. But strangely it didn’t warm my back. It was still ice cold. It was like I was torn between ice and fire. As if I couldn’t chose between them. Or maybe I was both. All of a sudden the light bulb ceased moving and begun to glow, lighter and brighter until it lit up everything. Then it exploded. Leaving me in complete darkness again, feeling nothing at all. Neither warm nor cold.

I woke up with a hideous headache. I sat up in my chirring camp bed and massaged my temples. Mandy, who’d got used to the new wake-up-time real quickly, was already up and stood in front of the mirror, trying to fix her usual film star-look. She met my eyes in the mirror.

-Are you ok? How’s your headache nowadays? Any better? She asked.
-It just got worse, I answered while continuing to massage my temples.
Actually after Saturday’s incident I’d forgot all about my headache. Or rather it had vanished so I didn’t have to think about it. But now it was back again.
-Oh. Why?
-Bad dream. A lot of flickering lights, I tried to smile at her.
Mandy returned the smile.
-Well I’ve switched the light bulb in the bathroom so no need to have anymore nightmares about that one at least. Breakfast?
Mandy fastened the last hairpin in her perfect red-brown wave of hair. Then she poke Adeline with her foot and rushed out of the room to avoid the burst of little volcano Adeline. I too escaped quickly from the bedroom before I got hit by a pillow or in worst case a fat book.
The kitchen was as usually buzzing with life despite the early morning. Everyone was up. Hazel and Owen, the twins, Blake. Yes, even Rogan was up, looking grumpy as usual.
-Morning ladies, Hazel welcomed us and smiled brightly as always. –Edi, are you alright? You look down.
-Just a headache, I mumbled and sat down at the table.
-Oh. You want a pill? Hazel smiled comfortingly at me with her head slightly tilted.
-No thank you.
Owen put down his morning paper briefly and looked at me through his ancient glasses.
-I heard you got into a new class.
-Yes, sir.
Mandy’s father felt like a person you should address as sir.
-Which one? He asked and rustled with his paper impatiently, longing to get back to his reading.
-5…
-Oh, that a year higher, isn’t it? Hazel asked.
-Wow, are you smart? One of the twins asked.
-Can you solve this problem for me then? The other twin asked and put his math homework in front of me.
-…A, I completed my sentence and the family immediately silenced, very much aware that it was Rogan’s class.
-Oh, Hazel said again, this time with a lot more effort into it.
Rogan wasn’t late to response to the striking silence, he had a flare for drama. He rose from his chair and walked out of the kitchen with decisive steps. At least he didn’t slam the door.
-That can’t be good, Blake said chewing on his sandwich.
-Blake, why would you say that? Hazel chided him.
-Well, Rogan obviously has a problem with Edith, whether we like it or not. If it isn’t solved it will only grow worse and if they’re in the same class it will probably escalate faster. By the way, I’m going to look at some flats today with some mates so I will be late.
Blake disappeared from kitchen before anyone could stop him.
-And there goes our only chance for a truce, Mandy said dramatic and the twins giggled while Hazel stared upset at her.
-What’s with my kids? Hazel sighed and turned away to the stove.

The bus ride to school was fun. Of course I’m not serious. The bus seemed to have major difficulties with its engine. At every red light it broke down and its engine made strange choking noises. Five stops away from school it stopped working completely and all of the passengers had to get off to wait for a replacement bus. Mandy and I decided to walk the rest of the way. Good thing we’d taken the early bus. School wasn’t that far away anyway so we’d be there on time.

We weren’t the only ones deciding to take a walk. Walking a few meters ahead of us was Rogan.
-Whoaho little brother! Mandy called after her brother. –Wait up Rogan!
-What are you doing? I silently asked Mandy. –Are you looking for troubles?
-Actually, I thought we could solve them on our way to school. Blake is right, this problem Rogan has with you will only escalate if it isn’t taken care of.
-So you will play peacemaker?
-Why not? Rogan! Can you hear me little brother?
Oh he could hear us. He glared back at the two of us and walked even faster to avoid us.
-So much for peacemaking, I rolled my eyes.
-Another day then.
-Another bus breaking down more likely.
-That is actually more likely, Mandy agreed with me and sighed.
First lesson of the day was math. I lay down my head on the desk waiting for the minutes to tick away so the class could begin. Suddenly a blond boy dropped down in the seat beside me. He smiled at me and reached out his hand. I took it hesitantly.
-Morgan.
-Edi. Eh, are you in the wrong classroom?
-Nope, this is the one.
-Are you sure?
-Yep, definitely. But are you in the right one?
-What? Yes, of course I am.
-You weren’t in this class last week.
-Well no. I switched this week.
-Ah then you’re the new one the school’s been whispering about.
-I suppose so.
He reached out his hand again. I took it again hesitantly.
-Morgan Kimmel, he said with a bright smile.
-Edith Sword.
I couldn’t help but smile back at him.
-So what did you do to end up in the back? Morgan asked.
-Do you have to do anything?
-Well, no one ever sits here voluntarily.
-I do.
-Great! So do I.
He had the widest smile I’d ever seen.
-Not that there is much of a choice. These were the only available seats left, I said to him.
-Ah, you’re right, he said and laughed.
I laughed too. Laughing is catching.
Suddenly a cold chill run down my spine and I saw Rogan staring furiously at Morgan, not at me for once. Morgan followed my gaze and looked at Rogan. His smile changed to a grin.
-Seems I’m treading dangerous ground. He’s your boyfriend?
-No! Definitely not.
Morgan met my eyes with his innocent blue.
-I was only asking.

-Well I was only answering, firmly, I said dryly and glared at Rogan.

-I guess you don’t like him that much.
-Correct.
-Same here, Morgan said.
I looked at him with surprise. Had I found the only other person in school besides me who didn’t like Rogan? Morgan smiled at me and I carefully smiled back at him. Now I didn’t hesitate.
-My enemy’s enemy is my friend, I said and offered my hand which he immediately grabbed.
We then stared back at Rogan together in our newly formed union against Rogan.
-So are you any good at math? Morgan asked me as mr Stone appeared right on time for class.
-As it happens, a genius actually, I answered.
-Great! I suck.
What did he do in mr Stone’s class then, I thought but never asked.
He really did suck at math. When I wasn’t taking notes I explained them in detail for Morgan.

To be continued...
By J.L.Frick

Merula 3:2

Chapter 3:2 -Headaches and stalkers

Finally a new week and a new class. Don’t ask me how I survived the weekend. After the hallway incident and the exploding light bulbs I did my best to avoid Rogan and it seemed like he did the same because I didn’t see him at all. The few times I did see him and our eyes met, because our eyes always meet no matter what, he was the first to turn his head away and walk in the opposite direction. The tension in the flat was gone, now it was mostly awkward and that wasn’t so hard to survive. So I survived just fine.
Mr Stone met me at the school’s gate. I should have known.
-Congratulation miss Sword, you are now one of my pupils. Let me tell you from the start that I do not allow any slugs in my class. Just so we’re clear.
He handed me my new schedule and walked away.
Even though I had arrived early I was almost late to my first class. I’ve said it before, my sense of direction is bad. But I found the classroom at last. Somewhat nervous I opened the door and stopped in the doorway. The students all looked at me with bored faces.
-What? One of the boys asked.
-Excuse me, but is this class 5A?
-Yeah. Who’re you?
-I’m…
I didn’t get to finish my sentence as I was interrupted by a cough coming from behind.
-You’re in the way, a familiar voice told.
I was paralysed, fate couldn’t be this cruel could it? Slowly I turned around, hoping the voice belonged to someone else. It didn’t. It was Rogan.
-What are you doing here? Are you stalking me? He asked with cold eyes.
-I…, I didn’t know what to respond.
I was obviously stalking him according to fate’s wishes.
-Move, will you.
He shoved me out of his way and I was left there with my mouth wide open. Then I was further pushed inside the classroom by mr Stone.
-Everyone, this is miss Edith Sword. She’s your new classmate. Be nice, mr Stone said with a bored voice as he introduced me. –Miss Sword, take an available seat so the class can begin.
Mr Stone pushed me in the direction of the only two available seats left in the classroom. Here comes the good news, they were far away from Rogan and they were in the back of the classroom, my favourite spot. So I happily, except for the tiny detail of sharing the same classroom with Rogan, let myself be shoved to the back. Of course I understood that the back seats were the least popular for those who are keen on studying and that it is often the troublemakers of a class that ends up here. This class didn’t seem to have any troublemakers. I guess mr Stone allow them in his elite class, But now he had me. It is not my fault that he judged me by my looks. That is his own stupid fault. He was going to regret it someday. Until then I was going to be invisible.

Already after the first lesson was I in trouble. A blond girl who’d stared furiously at me in class dragged me to the toilets and pushed me to the wall.
-Don’t think for a second that just because he talked to you that he cares about you, she said and waved her platinum paled hair.
Who was she talking about?
-He is mine, she emphasised every word.
Ah, now the piece fell into order. She was talking about Rogan.
-So you’re the stalker, I said to her.
-What stalker? She said surprised.
-Lindy right?
-Yeah.
-He’s all yours, I said and patted her shoulder as I left the toilets.
When she returned to the classroom she looked confused at me. I must have been the first not to want Rogan.

Lunch. Oh, lunch. I never thought I could feel this starved. The morning classes had been hell. Which was actually great as I’d never felt this challenged before. And I’m sure I would appreciate the challenge a lot more after lunch or maybe after a few days when I had sorted out the mess all this new knowledge had created in my head. On a empty stomach everything in my head was spinning and made no sense at all. Right now, standing in line in the canteen waiting for food to fill my craving stomach, the afternoon classes felt like Mount Everest towering over me ominous. When I reached the salad bar and was filling my plate with various greens my phone rang. I pulled it up from my front pocket and viewed the display. A number I didn’t recognise. I still answered.
-Hello? I asked and put the phone between the chin and shoulder.
-Edith Sword? A male voice asked.
-Yes.
-Meet me in the library.
He had a very familiar voice.
-I’m sorry but I’m in school and I don’t have time to meet a stranger who doesn’t even tell his name. Where did you get my number?
The caller hung up on me.
-Rude, I mumbled and continued to the warm foods.
My phone squeaked. I’d go a message from the same number.
“Meet me in the library. Rogan”
Ah, that’s why I recognised the voice. Why couldn’t he just have said so? I continued to fill my plate and was just about to find a free seat when my phone squeaked again.
“Now. Rogan”
I sighed. I really didn’t want to see him at all, especially not on an empty stomach. Couldn’t this wait? My stomach growled but that didn’t stop my curiosity from growing. What could be so important for him to skip lunch and meet up with me, his least favourite person on earth? I hesitated. That’s when the third message came.
“Right now. Rogan”
I looked around in the canteen and sighed. There were no available seats left, the cafeteria was filled to the brim. Oh well, I might as well feed my curiosity if I wasn’t going to eat anything else. I smuggled out some crisp bread and set off to the school library. On my way there I saved Rogan’s number under the name Impatient ass and nibbled on my piece of bread.
I found him in the furthest hid away corner there were in the library.
-What? I asked straight away.
-I advise you not to mention to anyone that you stay with my family.
I sniggered, was this it?
-What? Why not? Is there a special girl you don’t want to get the wrong idea of us living together?
Rogan furrowed his forehead.
-No…
I didn’t let him finish.
-Then are you embarrassed because the girl you kissed on impulse is now living with your family?
I had been waiting to get this question out of me for a long time. If you could call a week a long time.
-It’s not that.
-You are afraid of rumours. You vain person.
I left before he could stop me. Once again he had managed to piss me off. And for this I had missed lunch. The afternoon didn’t look promising.

-Soo, how was school today? Mandy popped up in the bathroom as I was brushing my teeth.
-Fine.
-I heard you got into a new class.
-Yes.
-Which one? She asked curious.
-Rogan’s, I muttered.
-Oh, her smile disappeared and was replaced with compassion. –I see. Will it be hard on you?
I looked her straight in the eye.
-Piece of pancake, I said dryly and Mandy smiled.
-He’ll probably test you.
-He already has.
The bathroom lamp flickered.
-You know, I think he likes to quarrel, Mandy continued.
-Tell me about it. What is it with this lamp? I said slightly irritated and glared at it as it kept flickering like a butterfly.
-It’s probably loose. Anyhow don’t let him get to you.
The lamp popped and died, leaving me and Mandy in complete darkness.
-Loose did you say? I’ll say it’s dead.
Mandy laughed.
-I’ll get another one.

To be continued...
By J.L.Frick