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Beautiful Creatures. chapter 2
(Opal's Rebirth.)Another clap of thunder had me scurrying beneath the blanket. I settled down and thought that, unlike Doug, I had not asked to be saved.Again my mind took another path down memory lane. I felt the recollection as if it was just happening, the hairs on my body stood to attention. There was a man in my father's study, the door was locked and I peeked through a crack in the wood.It was the loud arguing that had shaken me from the sweet, lullaby of sleep and I had tiptoed to the source of the disturbance. The walls of the study were lined with agricultural books and lately, my father had added some hardcover historical books to the shelves. Two half-filled glasses of brandy and an open bottle of liquor was on the wooden desk. There was the stench of fear in the atmosphere and my father was mopping at his face with a handkerchief. The light shone and cast shadows on the walls and the man took out a gun and aimed it at my father's chest. I felt faint but it all happened s
Beautiful Creatures. chapter 3
(Catching The Past.)As we drove down the highway I remember when there were more houses than trees and skinny, one lanes that horses had to squeeze by on as dust flew up into the carriages. I watched the world and watched it change before my very eyes. I saw war, peace, then war again, boats, cars being made, and then the invention of planes. Telephones, computers, microwaves, humans got really smart. Ball gowns became skimpy dresses, jeans emerged, ballroom music replaced by rock and roll, then pop music and yet this continuous change in the quest for a better way of living brought us down roads of destruction. I looked out the car window as Doug drove, trees became only decoration on the lawns of expensive, show houses.Finally, after half an hour, we started to enter the heart of Mala. Mala is a small island folded neatly at the edge of the world, at least that was how tourists described it. The land creased the borders of a sea frothing at the mouth, appearing like beer trapped in
Beautiful Creatures. Chapter 4
(Moonstruck.)Now I know who and what I am.I just don't know what I was born to do. My name is Moonstruck. I am a teenager of fifteen years old, a dancer and sometimes a babysitter. What I am, is a Werewolf.Not those types of mixed blood, half human breed, but one hundred percent, pure blood, where my Mother and Father are wolves.I live in Mala with our pack, we have lived here for generations. I dreamed of leaving Mala one day to go to College, or just travel the world. However, dreams like that had to be put in a mortar and crushed like parched corn grains with a pestle, to become the powdered food we call asham. No sugar was added to my asham, no sweetness to my dreams. I tasted my dreams and choked on them, because being next in line to lead our pack, there was no way I could leave Mala. I had to crush my dreams, but I didn't want to.I was cutting across the cornfields, dodging obstacles, led to safety by my wolf's vision. Looking back I saw the Vampire still circling the ho
Beautiful Creatures. Chapter 5
(Buttercup.)I lived in a place where majestic trees reached up to the clouds and leaves covered them all the way to the trunks, like fur covering an animal so that you are unable to see the colour of the skin beneath it. To see the trunks and branches, one had to part the leaves with their hand. The leaves went down to the pebbled-covered ground, where there was no dirt, no soil. The pebbles crunched under your feet, a smooth, pink source of minerals that nourishes the land. They had the cracking sound of many eggshells breaking. Yet they never break nor burst, they bend, twisted then bounced back into oval shapes, once your feet have lifted off them.These pebbles held the magic of Fairyland together and could only be crushed once it was wet, and then dried to a powder. It never rained in Fairyland, but the rivers from the natural world would run underground, bridge the gap between the supernatural world and the natural world, and flow through Fairyland. The water took many paths an
Beautiful Creatures. Chapter 6
(The Eye.)Now I can say it is time to begin at the beginning.Who am I?I am the narrator, the one in whom all secrets are kept. You can call me... The Eye.The earth was new, unsoiled like money that had just left the press. The trees had dropped their fruits to the ground and Raytard had gone out to collect the harvest. One by one he picked up the juicy fruits and giving into temptation he sunk his teeth into one. The sweet, pulp was yellow and the juice ran down his fingers, he licked away all traces of it. He was staring at the hills over a herd of dinosaurs. They were big animals, with huge muscles, some even weighing more than two elephants put together. They were as gentle as a bird that pecked seeds from the palm of your hands, it was a time when all animals were submissive. Raytard along with all the first intelligent life forms created had the built-in genetics to subdue everything created beneath them.As usual, Raytard was thinking of Siri, the one he loved. He threw the
Beautiful Creatures. Chapter 7
(Saint and Isabella.)Sometimes when the heart is crying you will see no tears, just the cracking within like wood set ablaze in a bonfire, or the cracking of ice over a frozen lake as spring arises. That's how Isdabella felt, the first time her heart broke.Isabella had met Saint on one of her walks around the city. It was a pleasant day. The type of day where the sun and wind playfully rivalled in the atmosphere, none overpowering the other, but settling down into a cooperative flow. Isabella had let her hair unwind and drop below her shoulders. She had spent hours with a hot comb to get those curls just right, heating the hot comb over the coal and feeling the heat of it wrinkle her scalp as it curled each golden strand. Curls were the beauty standards and she tortured her straight hair until it twisted to conform to what was now socially acceptable for a respectable woman of her era.She should have worn a hat to protect her curls and the milky white of her skin, but she had not
Beautiful Creatures. Chapter 8
(The Proposal.)Isdabella and Saint were having a lovely dinner. He wanted to tell her that he was not human. He had been through the ditches of world war one, watched his fellow soldiers blown to pieces, his uniform heavy with the weight of depression and mud. He had lived for many decades and seen unexplainable things and yet he had never felt such fear as the fear of losing her. Saint looked out the window above her head, a cloud dropped low between the cleavage of the twin peak mountains. It touched the tree tops and blew like a puff of cotton on a cotton tree. He would tell her, but not today, not on the evening when they were planning to deceive her Father and get married. His eyes then shifted to an old couple twirling on the dance floor, they were caught up in the rapture of love. Another set of lovers were sitting across from his table, a waitress serving them. The woman was young and beautiful, with the gap tooth, and virgin smile of a toddler. The atmosphere was filled with
Beautiful Creatures. Chapter 9
(The Secrets We Keep.)"My love, I am going to the study to take care of some business ventures.""Sure darling."Isdabella replied looking out the window. She was already living in the evening to come.Saint stood and went to his study, where he would read those history books that were like comics to him. He had lived in the past eras, so he found it funny how wrong the human account of written history was. He would leave Terry and Isdabella alone to do what women did best, decorate and plan how to spend even more of his money.It was dark when Saint emerged from his man cave and he was not sure he was in the same house. In wonderment, he looked around the large living room. Vases of flowers had taken up every available surface, bright ribbons were hung around the room, and the long dinner table was loaded with trays of juice pitchers, cups, cooked and baked goodies. Candles burned in every corner from the candle holders. He was in another dimension, the dimension of females only. He