In Which Ginny is a Smart Aleck to her English Teacher

To preface this English assignment, I'd like to explain that my teacher is, to put it as nice as possible, completely unprepared to be a High School English teacher. (She's a sub that's taken the job permanently for now since the previous teacher was offered a job somewhere else and the school didn't get a new teacher before school started.) It would appear that she thinks by giving us horribly long assignments and by never answering our questions forthright she can hide this fact. In any case, she gave us approximately 60 vocabulary words to define and write sentences about. I decided I would really give her something to grade and wrote a 4 and a half page story. Now, I know that wasn't too nice of me but I think I'll post it because it was kind of fun to write. Can you find all 61 words? If you can't, then I've done my job correctly. Oh yeah, this story is based on a very weird, very vivid dream of mine.


Ally and Jessica walked through the doorway, mouths agape.

"Though this what you see now is this beautiful manor, you must realize that it has lived through horrible defamation. Conspiring men have spread terrible rumors about this mansion, saying that many deaths have been caused by this house, why I cannot fathom," the real estate agent, Mr. Bostitch, droned on, his voice resonating against the marble foyer.

"Why are you telling this to us?" Jessica blanched.

"He doesn't want me to hear it from someone else and be scared away from buying it, right?" Ally cooly established. "He doesn't need to worry. I'm not scared by superstitious qualms, especially the worries of locals."

Mr. Bostitch looked shocked. "I thought you would be interested in the history of the estate. It is quite notorious for a reason. It's been empty for the last eighty years."

Ally turned around, assessing her surroundings. "You might as well draw up the papers, I'm willing to buy it."

"Let me conjure up the papers," Mr. Bostitch opened the door and began to walk towards the car. "You may look around to make sure this is what you're looking for."

"Sounds perfect," Ally began to ascend the magnificent staircase before her. "Come on, Jessica."

"Are you daft? You have no connections to this town, your nearest relative lives a thousand miles away and this house has a history of inexplicable deaths yet you want to buy it? You haven't even looked at the place all the way! When you asked me to come along I didn't imagine this!" Jessica's dark eyes flashed as she screeched at her sister.

"Stop with your gibberish," Ally seemed unperturbed by Jessica's outburst. "This is exactly what I need. It's secluded and far away from distractions of any kind. I'm including family on this one."

Jessica's response was nearly inaudible. "I know that you're torn up about how it didn't work out with Mark and -"

"Let's go see what's upstairs," Ally evaded the one topic that brought her grief. "I'm hoping that it doesn't need any renovating. I'd hate to have to ameliorate it. I don't have that much time on my hands since my deadline is due in three months."

Jessica took the bait. "Your publishers work you too hard. If only I could get my hands on them, those heathens! Acting as if you're licentious; why, some of those things they want you to put in your books would shock the dead!"

"When you've been in the business as long as I have you're callous to their base ideals. That's why I write. Altec may want me to put in such things but they always see it my way. It's good to know that I'm contributing to better literature, or at least slightly," Ally flinched at the words that tumbled from her mouth, knowing they were pompous. There wasn't much else she could do. She couldn't afford to let her sister choose the topic.

Jessica was still indignant. "And I know for a fact that your books sell twice as much some of the rubbish that Altec publishes. Why must they insist on changing what you do?"

"Only some of it is rubbish, Jess. Most of the other authors are avidly supporting clean books," Ally examined a period tapestry as she spoke. "There isn't one hole! There must be some moth balls around here."

"I can't imagine how an ugly wall hanging can titillate you. If I were you I'd sell it on eBay and buy something nice from Pottery Barn."

"Sometimes I think it's a good thing you're my sister or else I would hate you're guts. You're a valley girl alright, right down to the bleach blonde hair," Ally's words were sharp but there was humor behind them.

"Oh, Ally, you know that my hair is natural. I would never dye my hair, it causes too much damage!"

Ally nodded in reply but her attention towards her sister was dwindling. Around she looked, absorbing every window pane, reveling in each intricate wood carving. Glancing to her left, a peculiar painting caught her eye. It was of a girl, her slovenly hair green and her skin ice blue. Such peculiar features didn't taint the beauty of her golden eyes, filled with sorrow.

"I can almost imagine that this painting is moving. The wind plays with the girl's hair as she blinks tears from her eyes," Ally, still mesmerized, unintentionally spoke aloud.

"That's one picture to burn," Jessica shuddered in response. She glanced at her cell phone. "Three missed calls. They must be from the kids. And look at the time! I've really got to get going or I might miss my plane! ‘Bye, Ally!" She quickly hugged her sister.

"Tell my nephews that I love them. Hopefully I'll see you guys at Christmas."

"I suppose I'm to have nothing but deference in my heart about you moving here but . . . this place really gives me the creeps! Just be safe okay?" Genuine concern crept across Jessica's normally shallow face.

Ally laughed off Jessica's trepidation. "Don't get superstitious on me! It sounds like my neighbors will have an abundant supply of those! I'll be fine, don't you fret or get you cute kids on my case. That's the last I need. I might not be able to resist their little lisps."

"Good. I'll be sure to do it then."

"I'll find some way to retaliate, mark my words!"

"Ms. Turner, I have the documents for you," Mr. Bostitch interrupted the sisters' banter.
"Oh, where do I sign?" Ally turned to the document.

"See you in ten months then, ‘kay, Ally?"

"I'll try my best! Good-bye, Jessica!" Ally continued to examine the painting with increasing interest. An unintelligible sound behind her drew her attention away and to a figure behind her.
"What are you doing here?" Ally found herself befuddled by a man with a strange, glowing pallor. "I just bought this place an hour ago. If you wanted to buy it, I think you're too late."

The man sadly smiled. "That may have been when my trouble began. I should've known better than to buy this house."

Ally was taken aback. "What do you mean? I just bought it, you can't own this house too," once again she shuddered at her effrontery.

"It isn't too late, you know. You can leave this house now and find happiness."

"I'm not afraid of this house," scoffed Ally.

"You should be. This formidable place is worthy of fear." The man rested his head against the wall with the painting in an act of lethargy.

"You just want me to leave so you can have this house!" She accused.

"What must I do conciliatory? I am a person with probity but whatever I say won't sway you. You cleave to this silly notion that I lie for the sheer fun of it," if the man had more energy his inflection could have been called contentious. "It's an abomination to tell falsehoods."

"My, aren't you adamant? Forgive me," her voice held the intimation of sarcasm. "Were you a puritan preacher in a former life?"

"No, I was a lawyer. Naught could get past me when I was the plaintiff. By the end of the cases I knew the depositions better than the witnesses," a ghost of a laugh fell from his lips.
"That's quite a difference in occupations."

He gave her a sudden look of comprehension, worry on his brow. "I've kept you too long already. You must leave this place. If ever there were a place that was anarchy to your body and soul, it would be this place."

Ally groaned and turned away, ready to keep on looking through the house. "I'm going to keep on going. This is my house. I payed for it and I'm only going to leave to get my things." She turned the corner to find more people, all of them with the same sickly glow.

"Who is this, Michael?" A gaunt older man with graying hair and a stern face spoke to the man behind Ally.

"The new owner," the man, who Ally supposed was Michael, replied.

"Good," a strange smile spread across the man's long features. "It will be good to have this place inhabited again."

"Do you all live here? The real estate agent never said anything like this," Ally was very puzzled and she slightly quailed as a shiver ran up her spine. "It's strange to see a place so immaculate with this many people living together. How much are you paying the maid?" She uneasily smiled.

"Oh, this one is funny. The last few weren't any livelier than us. I think we'll find her very entertaining," the older man laughed weakly. "It'll be good to have some fresh blood about the place."

"If you'd excuse me, Father, I'd like to speak to her, alone," Michael inclined his head towards the empty passageway behind them.

Ally looked once more at the lethargic people and walked down the hallway.

"What can I say to convince you to leave?" Michael's voice was no longer angry but pleading.
"Don't try to beguile me, I'm not inept when it comes to making my own decisions!"

"This place is afflicted with ghosts!" Michael exclaimed, the silvery color around his face showing his rage. "In this house alone there are well over a hundred ghosts, making it one of the largest ghost factions in the world! To stay here is to live in an abyss of the undead! Will you still stay?"

Ally's interest was piqued. "I was wondering why there was such a prodigious amount of people here. I suppose I better leave now."

A smile beamed from Michael. "I knew you'd eventually see my way."

"Well, I must get my things so I can move in."

"You'll be tantalizing death! It won't be long before you can't reprieve your own end." His smile fell as his voice fell below a whisper.

"We'll see," Ally replied. "We'll see."

Hera: Chapter One: Woes of a Reluctant Bride (Part Three)

Hera felt someone grab her wrist and glanced to see who had done so. Surprise danced across her face; her father had actually decided to attend? It had been millennia since she had seen Chronos, in fact, the last time she had seen him he had thrown her up out of the pit of his stomach. Hera had assumed that he had disappeared forever, acutely embarrassed that his youngest son had defeated him. Hera noticed that her mother, Rhea, was standing next to him. They must have reconciled. Hera wondered if her father remembered it had been Rhea’s deceit that had caused his downfall.

Chronos began to speak, projecting so the whole hall could hear. Instantly quiet engulfed the room as the occupants respectfully listened.

“Zeus, Ruler of the Gods, King of Mortals, Supreme Father of All, thou hast conquered much so thou deserves much. For thy accomplishments I give thee a reward very dear to mine heart.”

Hera couldn’t help but give a small, unheard laugh. She had been much closer to his stomach than his heart.

“I give thee my daughter, the eternally beautiful Hera and thy own fair sister, to produce thee legitimate heirs,” Chronos finished his diminutive speech by painfully thrusting Hera towards Zeus.

She stumbled and fell, her cheeks burning from irritation and chagrin. Glowering at the cheering crowd and her self-satisfied parents, she gracefully rose and held on to Zeus’s arm; secretly shuddering as she played the part of a love struck newly wed.

Zeus held Hera close and tore off her transparent veil, exposing her blushing face. The crowd cheered louder, some yelling obscene comments as he passionately kissed her, finally ending the wedding ceremony. Hera sighed, a sigh of relief rather than a sigh of joy as it appeared; thanking the stars nestled in her hair that she would be able to enjoy some peace soon.

Hours passed in the giant hall and Hera kicked herself for her stupidity. She couldn’t leave until her new husband was ready to leave. Zeus was a god of pleasure and there was plenty of wine and goddesses to go around. Forgotten in the corner, Hera watched on, feeding angry thoughts to herself so she wouldn’t burst into tears. Not even three hours had passed and Zeus was already letting his eyes and arms wander.

Zeus suddenly stood before her, staggering slightly. “To bed, my wife!” He proclaimed in a slurring voice, loud enough for the mortals on earth to hear. Hera’s face flushed as she followed him out of the hall, mortified.

Members of the banquet followed the couple, singing, laughing and shouting. Not a soul walked in a straight line and several times Hera glanced back to see who was stepping on her gown. Each time it was a different person as the crowd reeled forward drunkenly.

Finally reaching the bedroom that they would share, Zeus swept Hera into his arms and carried her into the chamber. Stumbling to the bed, he threw her down and went to close the door.

Hera braced herself. Soon the dreaded moment would come when he . . .

A loud snore interrupted her train of thought. Next to her on the extravagant bed laid her drunken husband, fast asleep.

All at once Hera found herself rather confused. Should she be laughing or crying? Unexpectedly she had found herself free from an unwanted task but a small singsong voice in her head wouldn’t leave it at that.

You wanted attention. As much as you loathed the idea, you wanted him to notice you. You wanted him to realize that you were better than the other lady friends he’s had. You wanted him to feel badly for neglecting you. Hera shook her head. She didn’t want anything from him. It would be better to have lived inside her father’s belly for the rest of her life as long as it meant Zeus was never born.

The singing and shouting outside the bedroom had begun to cease. Hera supposed that the guests had fallen asleep as Zeus had. She didn’t mind; the raucous laughter had been a painful reminder that everyone had a good time except for her.

Alone, in the silent dark, Hera couldn’t hold herself together any longer. Tears streamed down her face as she loosened the stars from her hair; releasing the ringlets that now cascaded around her face. She curled up and shivered in her silky, thin wedding gown.

What would become of her? With no hope how could she go on? How could she pretend to love Zeus when she knew that he would continue to do as he pleased, without a second thought about her? What would become of her?

Hera: Chapter One: Woes of a Reluctant Bride (Part Dos)

Chara tiptoed out of the chamber, leaving Hera to her own devices.

Hera sobbed uncontrollably, knowing that in a few short moments her life would be changed eternally. As a god she would live forever, as would her husband. Bound in a marriage for which she felt no love for her companion, there was no way out; not even death. As Chara had said, the mortal she loved, the man who was infinitely better than her younger brother, Zeus, would die in a few short years. All she could do was merely stand by and watch.

These melancholy thoughts brought a fresh wave of tears. Hera smiled ruefully. Her wedding would be the most rainy day the mortals ever had. They would more than likely take the rain as a blessing or gift rather than the product of a tragic doom as it really was.

But even if they knew, would they care? The mortals loved her soon-to-be husband and even enjoyed the tales of his affairs with random nymphs as long as Zeus had to shape-shift once or twice. Hera would receive no sympathy for her grievances; that much she was sure of, not from the mortals and most certainly not from her fellow gods.

After several more minutes of weeping, Hera wiped her tears away. Soon the ceremony would begin and although her heart was being broken, Hera still had her pride. It would never do to have the whole population of Mount Olympus see her with red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose. She was one of the most gorgeous goddesses but she knew that crying did nothing for her complexion.

Breathing in and out slowly, Hera had reached the giant hall of clouds. Peeking in, she saw many gods, nymphs and even a few satyrs. Wine flowed freely, even though no union had been formed yet, and it showed. Grimacing, Hera shielded her eyes from a drunk, giggling nymph and a rather touchy-feely satyr who was intoxicated in more way than one. Hera frowned but couldn’t blame them; with such draperies and music one could have mistaken it for a bedroom, minus the hordes of shrieking people.

After scanning the crowds for some time, Hera finally spotted Zeus. Standing in the middle of the crowd, his laugh booming, Hera admitted to herself that she could have to marry worse. He had clearly inherited the family’s good looks and his mere presence was as electrifying as his thunderbolts.

“Hera?” Chara’s voice shook Hera from her musings. “Finally we can begin the ceremony!”

Protesting mutely, Hera was dragged to Zeus’s feet.

New Story! Hera: Woes of a Reluctant Bride (Part Uno)

So . . . for the record, Planets is officially on hiatus. I have ran into some technical difficulties that I'll be able to sort out soon but I just realized that I might want to finish the whole story before I finish posting it. The story is just at a point that I can't post one part and change my mind about it or else, apart from being totally confusing to the reader, I will make it harder for myself to remember which idea I chose! (Does that make any sense?) Poor Kendle has heard way too much about Planets but can't be helped, she's my very helpful springboard. You can just ask her if I change my mind frequently. (Her answer would be a definite YES!)

In any case, I have a story, already finished thank heavens, that I wrote last year during English. It's a bit odd but I kind of like how it turned out. Just as a little background, last year in English we were spending a lot of time on Greek Mythology. I noticed that one of the Gods, Hera (Zeus's wife), got a bad wrap. Basically, everyone hated her because she was jealous of the women that her husband would go have affairs with! I felt that her side of the story should be heard so I commenced to write it. I tried to keep it as close to myth as possible but I have taken some liberties with it.

Well, enjoy!

Hera

“Aren’t you excited? Within a few hours you’ll be married!” Chara exclaimed as she straightened her cousin’s veil. “And to the god Zeus no less!”

Hera sighed sadly. “Are you so wiling to get rid of me?”

“No! I am happy for you! This is an important time. Aren’t you excited or at least halfway happy?”

“He tricked me. I never really had a choice in the matter. How could I know that he would disguise himself as such a harmless looking cuckoo? And then he . . .” she broke off, anger and shame in her eyes then after a moment she resumed her lament. “He doesn’t love me anyways. You’ve heard of his escapades, as have I. You know he will never be a faithful husband.”

“He loves you, I’m sure. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s love in his eyes,” Chara tried to reassure her distraught cousin while straightening the hem of Hera’s silver gown.

“Rather lust I would say,” Hera snorted, her eyes glistening with tears. “I know I’m beautiful but now it seems to have landed me into a rather unwanted predicament,” a curl escaped her massive up-do. She viciously brushed it aside.

Chara carefully pinned the offending curl up with a sparkling star. “Now it can’t be as bad as you make it sound. He is very powerful; he is the god of the heavens, after all. Why are you so against this marriage in the first place?”

“You just don’t understand, Chara. I wanted to make a name for myself before I became tied down. Do you realize that I still don’t have power over anything? Even you are the Goddess over something.”

“Kittens,” Chara proudly announced. “I’m the Goddess of Kittens.”

“Now I’ll be stuck with something because I’m his wife,” Hera moaned.

“You’ll be the queen of all the gods!” Dina said brightly but just received a sob in return
.
“Is it too much to ask for that I love the one I marry, and he love me?” Hera’s voice was no more than a whisper for that is all she could muster with tears coursing down her face.

“Oh, I know,” Chara’s caring voice took on a much different tone. “You’re still weepy over that mortal, what’s-his-name.”
“Takis,” Hera replied, her face in her hands. “His name is Takis.”

“Come on, Hera, you know that it wouldn’t have ever worked out, even if Zeus hadn’t decided to marry you. He was a mortal! Within a few years he will be with Hades as the Fates dictate.” She was sewing another star on Hera’s cloud veil but Hera pushed her aside.

“Leave me,” her voice was filed with despair. “Please, Chara. Leave me.”

. . . . . . I FINISHED IT!!!

Planets: Chapter Eight: Slowly but Surely

Chapter Eight: Slowly but Surely
“Kelsi, you have been behaving quite well for the past couple weeks, I think it’s time for us to progress further into your training.”
Kelsi’s smirk was self assured, not unlike the chilly smile of Mistress. She had worked hard the last two weeks and had gained confidence and assurance along with knowledge. She laughed at how afraid she had been before and scoffed at the notion that Mistress was “creepy.” Mistress was powerful, the picture of a well-meaning mentor. Kelsi could only dream of that she would someday be as intelligent and influential as Mistress.
“As you have learned, you are magical. As a mintis of royal blood, however small the percentage of royal blood may be, you are able to harness you magic to do more than household chores as the peasant mintis do.”
Kelsi’s eyes lit up and she almost exclaimed with joy but she resisted the impulse and composed herself.
“Magic is a very hard thing to control, it’s often flighty. It will take a lot of self-control to use your magic. One wrong move and it could destroy you.”
“I’m up to the challenge!” Kelsi stood up, her hair falling out of it’s up-do and into her face in her vigor.
“Really? I’m not quite so sure that you are,” Mistress’s questioning voice stung Kelsi. She quietly sat back down, her face burning as scarlet as the ribbons weaving through her hair.
“I know that you are confident in your ability, Kelsi, and I’m pleased to note that you’re assured. Unfortunately vim is not enough by itself. There are several things you still need to know. One especially important thing that is connected to magic is a familiar.
“Familiars are special creatures that every magical royal mintis has. These animals protect their mintis and help channel their magic. Most Familiars stay as one creature form their whole life but can change forms when their mintis goes through a drastic life changing experience. Not surprisingly Familiars can’t die until their mintis passes on.”
“Do you have a Familiar?” Kelsi asked Mistress, her even tone masking her eagerness to learn. Perkiness was something Mistress abhorred and Kelsi had been working hard on curbing her detestable emotions.
“Yes,” Mistress replied and Kelsi saw a black widow scurry from behind Mistress’s ear down across her neck to her arm where it placed itself on her finger, looking like a lethal ring. Mistress stroked it with one finger. “May I continue with my lecture?”
“Yes,” Kelsi looked down, shamefaced. How could she have been so rude? She knew that Mistress hated interruptions.
“You will get your own Familiar in time. Familiar’s come to mintis when they have reached a point in their magic where they need the Familiar’s protection. It should come soon for you. The more powerful the magic, the more protection is needed. Do you have any questions? You must understand this. It is vital to your training,” Mistress paused as Kelsi gathered her thoughts.
“It all makes sense but I don’t understand why I can’t already start to do magic now. You have taught me so much and you say that I have much potential. Why can’t I start right now, today?”
Mistress gave Kelsi a tight-lipped smile. “If you think you are ready than we will see what you can do.”
Kelsi felt like squealing with joy but simply smiled back at Mistress.
“Stand up,” Mistress ordered.
Kelsi obeyed and waited silently for instructions.
“We will need to go to a different room, it’s two crowded in here. The last thing we need is an unintentional injury to occur,” Mistress grasped Kelsi’s arm and they appeared in an empty room, devoid of any hangings, furnishings or decorations of any kind. Kelsi was shocked that such a room existed in Mistress’s lavish castle. The room was still made of high quality materials such as the onyx tiles that paved the floor but the extravagance that was common among the other rooms wasn’t found here.
There aren’t any doorways or windows. The thought slightly frightened Kelsi as she realized there was no way out. She was trapped.
“Here we are, this shall do nicely,” Mistress looked around the room approvingly, admiring the echo of her voice in the large empty room. “We shall begin your lesson now. Channel your emotions, namely anger, to create magic. I want you to start by crating a bird. Imagine the bird’s every detail, you don’t want to wind up with a half-formed bird,” Mistress finished instructing then looked at Kelsi expectantly.
Feeling rather self conscious, Kelsi breathed in deeply and focused on her anger. Why has it taken Mistress so long to teach me magic? She felt the self-righteous anger bubble up. Does she think I’m stupid? How dare she! Why won’t she just believe in me? Why does she have to be so condescending?
That’s enough, Kelsi,” Mistress interrupted Kelsi’s fuming thoughts.
Kelsi looked up, startled. Could Mistress read her mind?
“You have built up enough anger for this task, now focus your energy on creating the bird.”
She is so controlling. Kelsi thought one more angry notion than began to imagine a bird.
The bird was a sparrow, soft brow feathers speckled with charcoal covering it’s fragile body. It’s beak and small twig-like legs a golden brown and when it opened it’s minute beak the sweetest heart-breaking melody was released. Kelsi had watched many a sparrow back at the orphanage and knew exactly how the small bird should fly. Focusing the energy she had just built up, she pushed it towards the bird, willing the tiny bird to fly out of her mind and into the room. Within seconds the sparrow was there, gliding around the room. Kelsi gave a little sigh of relief then braced herself up against the wall, feeling drained. The bird may have been small but the amount of energy and concentration it had taken to create it had been unbelievable. She scrutinized the little creature, admiring her work. The sparrow had landed, and, shiny, beady eyes bright, had begun to scratch the tiled floor looking for bugs. It was perfect, except she hadn’t imagined the silver feathers at it’s temples. She frowned. Strange.
“Excellent,” Mistress’s expression was one of pure boredom. “Now kill it.”
Kelsi lifted her hand and without thinking twice, projected an electrical orb towards the innocent sparrow. A grievous cry came from the bird’s frail body on contact with the orb. It’s shiny eyes dulled and it’s winds became rigid. The little bird died.
Mistress looked more joyous about this accomplishment than the last. “Let us go now,” her eyes gleaming, she touched Kelsi’s shoulder and transported.
Kelsi sat down at her desk, unfazed that she just killed the bird she had crated. She reflected on the whole experience, coldly noting that it took more energy to create the bird than destroy it.
She sauntered out of the room without saying a word to Mistress who was already rummaging through parchments. Kelsi felt invigorated from her first magic lesson. Everything had gone perfectly and she thought proudly of her sparrow, it’s sweet music ecstatic. Even it’s death had been beautiful at the blue tinged energy hit it’s speckled body and it mournfully shrieked.
She smiled, unaware that her eyes were filled with a frightening hunger. Mistress may have though that she had appeased Kelsi’s want for magic power but she had only made it stronger. Now Kelsi was determined more than ever. She would be a powerful sorceress, even if it killed her. Kelsi was hit with a wave of determination. She was going to be the most powerful sorceress, second only to Mistress. Hopefully that day would come soon.

Time Traveler

Before you lynch me for posting a short story instead of Planets, I just want to explain myself. This story hasn't been taking time away from Planets, it's part of an assignment for school. It actually is based on a story I wrote for a state wide test, I liked the concept so much that I lengthened it to the format it's currently in. Comments and questions are always appreciated.

Time Traveler

By Ginny Romney

"I should have listened to Steve," I say aloud, my truthful words echoing into the cold, dank cell. "It's too late now and I have to face the impending doom, now or never." I peer through my long, brown hair as my mind drifts back to a time that seems ages ago; a time that in reality happened a mere week ago.
I was sitting on my atrocious teal couch, an apparent cast off of my mother's seeing as I would never purchase a couch of such a hideous hue. My apartment was warm and toasty, mostly from the blazing fireplace in the middle of the room but also from the on-going argument between Steve and I.
"I'm telling you, Leslie, you're going to wind up hurting someone, this is not a good idea!" Steve exclaimed, pounding his fist into the poor ugly arm of the couch.
I replied just as passionately. "I don't see what you have against it! This vaccine will save hundreds, no millions of lives!"
"Time travel is so risky and even if you save the smallpox victims have you though of what all these extra people will do? Like you said, the vaccine will save thousands of lives but who can really tell how much longer they'll live? With so many extra people living there could be an increase in famine, additional diseases and crime. In actuality more people could die because of the vaccine."
I wasn't convinced. Stubborn fool that I was, I just laughed at him. "Now you're just looking for things to worry about. I've made up my mind and there's no way you can change it!"
Steve heaved a giant sigh. "I better be on my way then if you're sure there's no way I can talk you out of this one," he stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of his khaki slacks. "Good luck on your trip, Les, I hope everything will go how you planned. ‘Bye," he promptly left, grabbing his coat and scarf without saying a word.
"See you later!" I called after him as he slammed the front door and walked out into the frigid winter air. I shivered from the cold blast of air that Steve had let in and the excitement of my oncoming adventure. Nothing could dampen my spirits, not even Steve. I knew he meant well but his often pessimistic attitude left a bit to be desired.
What I would give to have his negative self her now. I smile, knowing that he would just lecture me, telling me what I could have done to stay out of this mess but even his scolding voice would be welcome. Nothing could be worse than the villagers that frequently stand outside my cell, yelling and screaming as they hold flaming torches. They are out there now, calling me names and telling me that it won't be long before I'm with my supposed maker, the Devil.
Shortly after Steve left I gathered my supplies for my journey. I was leaving early in the morning and I didn't want to be searching for misplaced shoes and missing bags. Everything, from the sterilized needles that were the foundation of my mission to the three changes of clothing for myself, lay next to the door, waiting for the rush of the upcoming day.
The next morning went as smoothly as I had planned. Traffic was going to be light since most time traveling took place later in the day. My family was there to see me off, even my Great Aunt Lena who always said that I would never amount to much.
I interrupt my own musings as a tear slides down my cheek. My family had been so supportive and almost as positive as I had been. They wouldn't have a clue about what happened to me. Maybe it's just as well, Aunt Lena would be ecstatic to know she was right. I'm not going to amount to anything. I'm just a blip in history, a character with noble notions but nothing more than that. I know I have grown a lot since last week because I've excepted the fact that I'm not anyone special. If only I'd learned that sooner.
After I arrived at my destination, early 18th Century England, I began my quest. Admiring the lush countryside, my first couple of days were joyful. I was still enthusiastic and thrilled the difference I would make. It was absolutely bliss until day three, that's when the bad luck struck.
It had drizzled a few times since I had arrived but on Wednesday it POURED. My sneakers soaked and my provisions ruined, I found it hard to laugh it off as I had before. Luckily wasn't far from a village. The welcoming that I received wasn't far from hostile.
"Mama who is that lady?" A child no older than seven asked her mother.
"Just gather the eggs," the woman replied as she nervously continued her work.
"Excuse me," I approached her. "Please, may I vaccinate you and your child? It won't take long, I promise. It may save your life."
The woman just looked at me, horrified. Tucking the last egg into her skirt, she hastily grabbed her child and fled into the run-down hut before her.
I sighed, sad for her but not discouraged, or at least not yet.
What if I had given up then? I wish I had, for if I had I would be home right now, watching Steve gloat. It would be worth the chagrin, just to be safe, warm and carefree.
I plodded along, approaching villagers as I had before. Very few of them actually took me up on my offer and those that did ran away once they saw the needle.
I had been through several tiny villages before I finally reached the whole cause of my mission. This town was only slightly larger than other villages I had gone through but, if my research was correct, in a few short months it would be completely annihilated by smallpox.
As before not many people heeded my frantic warnings.
"Please," I begged a young mother who was several years younger than I. "Think of your children! Think of their future!"
She looked at me fearfully, eyes bright with terror. "May God have mercy on your soul," she whispered to me before she took off.
I was stunned. She thought me a witch? No one could seriously believe I was a witch, that was just unfathomable. I sat down on a wooden fence, my head reeling with unbelief.
Several men approached me, their eyes full of hate.
"This is the one!" A burly man roared. "This is the witch that threatened my family with her instruments from the Devil!"
More people had gathered around, drawn in by the yelling of their fellow neighbors. Darkness began to cloak the sky, casting ominous shadows on the faces of the angry mob.
Understandably, I began to panic, realizing the dire consequences to come. "Please, let me go!" I shook free of the red bearded man that had accused me of witchcraft. "I have just come to help!" I can save your children from the smallpox epidemic! Just let me vaccinate them, it will only help them!" My pleas were drowned out by the furious townspeople.
"Don't listen to her, she will take the souls of your children!"
"She was sent to kill our crops!"
"Why? Why are we being punished so?"
"How can we keep her from cursing us? We haven't done any wrong. We are a God fearing people!"
"Burn her!" The shout came from multiple people. It grew louder and louder until everyone was shouting it.
"No!" A dark-haired man bellowed loud enough to silence the crowd. My heart rose. Maybe someone understood that I was just trying to help. "We must give her a trial first."
My heart sank. I was as good as dead.
What if Steve had come to save me? The thought is ridiculous but it keeps praying on my mind, even now that all hope has been lost. Imagination gone wild, I can't help but visualize him, pulling up in a time machine, as picturesque as a knight on a white steed. I haven't been aware of it, but just yesterday I realized that I love him. He isn't just the boy from next door, he's the man who has always been my intellectual equal, the only person that corrects me when I'm wrong. Now he'll never know it, but it's just as well. I was always just the little girl with the braided hair and the skinned knees. We were best friends but that's where it ended, at least on his side.
"Order!" The black robed judge yelled, his grimy white wig askew. The room grew no quieter; it still rung with the shouting of angry souls.
"Burn her! Kill her!" I covered my ears, trying to block out the crowd's blood thirsty chanting.
"Silence! We haven't even heard the case so there can be no verdict . . . yet. May the witness please take the stand."
The young mother that I had spoken to before took the stand. Face pale and thin body shaking, she frightfully waited for the rook to become silent. "She tried to gouge me children with her silver instrument of the Devil! An' when I snatched them up and ran from her she cursed me, telling me I would die and me children would die with me, of smallpox!" The delicate girl's voice quivered and her eyes were brimming with tears. "I've done no wrong. I don't want my children to die."
I found myself touched by her frank testimonial, even though I knew it was untrue. I knew there was no hope for me but I still clung to my innocent plea.
Witness upon witness testified against me, some frightened and pathetic, some furious and vengeful. I cringed each time a new villager took the stand, wishing I could free myself from this terrible mess I had gotten myself into. Finally, I was called to the stand.
"I was just trying to save you. I meant no harm, I swear. This vaccine would save you, not kill you. I'm sorry, just let me go and I'll never come back, I promise. Please, just let me go!" I pleaded, not ashamed of the tears that fell from my eyes.
"Lies!" Spat the large red-bearded accuser. "You hear her voice, you see her clothing, she can only be a witch! She babbles on of this "vaccine" that will save us but it will really steal your soul! She wishes to take our souls to her master, the Devil!"
"No!" I cry, fearing the loss of the little sympathy I had just won. "That's not true! Just let me leave in peace., I beg of you!"
The room was filled with a terrible ruckus once again.
"Can we take a witch's word?" He said, malice emanating from his countenance. "If we let her go she may comeback disguised as another person. Or worse yet, she may bring more demons and witches with her the second time around!"
"The only true way we can save ourselves is if we kill her!" Screamed a portly good wife, her face flushed and eyes bulging.
"I have made my decision," the judge stood up, banging his gavel across the stand. "The witch dies."
Cheers were heard as two men clamped their rough hands onto my arms and led me back to my cell. Tears fell down my sorrowful eyes. How could everyone hate me so?
I sadly smile now, knowing my moments still alive are very short. The villagers have spent the last few days building a pyre for me and they scream to me that I will be where I belong today. I accept that I will die for death doesn't scare me anymore. There's no sense in crying anymore, I have cried enough and not a thing has changed.
The lock has just turned; they have come to burn me. None of what I did mattered, it was all for naught. For as the flames lick my body I will be forgotten. As the smoke climbs on high I will disappear. When my shrieks fill the air my memory will die. I shall be no more.

The End

Planets: Chapter Seven: Futile Search

You guys should know the drill by now. Here's a new chapter, I hope you enjoy it. Comments, speculations, and questions are always appreiciated. Thanks!

Chapter Seven: Futile Search

“Dragons are temperamental creatures, full of very strong emotions. One of the strongest is the most important emotion, anger. Anger is what drives us, it is what empowers us. This is why dragons are our most formidable ally.”
Kelsi looked up from her notes. “What about love or joy? Aren’t those strong emotions?”
Mistress laughed a quiet laugh that made the hairs on the back of Kelsi’s neck stand up. “Strong? Those feeble “emotions”? Those are mere child’s feelings, not worthy of being in the same sentence as power. “Love” and “joy” will never be able to compare with anger and hate just as the weak will never be able to measure up to the mighty.”
Kelsi wiggled her nose, slightly confused. Love, the one thing she ached for, was considered weak? She defiantly had lots to learn.
“You must banish all your hunger for love, Kelsi. Do not try to deny it; I know your desires better than you do yourself. All this wishing and hoping and crying over love is weak and I won’t tolerate it any longer. Nor will I put up with this “confusion” that plagues you. Even if you are puzzled about something you must not let is how. You have potential to be a great leader, Kelsi, and leaders do not show weak emotions like confusion and fear. They only emulate strength and power. You must root out these inferior human tendencies that were planted into your head while you were on Nesserum. Essentially everything you learned on Nesserum must be discarded, forgotten. Their human ways have done much damage within you but in time we can change that.”
Kelsi listened, clearly fascinated. Mistress was practically commanding her to become an emotionless stone. How long would that take her? She scribbled down some of what Mistress had just said and roughly sketched a very detailed drawing of a dragon. Gazing at the dragon’s sharp teeth and spines, Kelsi winced. She defiantly wouldn’t want to get on a dragon’s bad side, especially if their temper was as legendary as Mistress had said it was. Just by looking into its wide, penetrating eyes she could tell that they weren’t friendly.
“You did get that last part,” Mistress said, her tone straight and commanding. “You may leave now; lunch will be waiting for you in your room.”
Kelsi silently nodded her thanks and left the room, letting out her breath as she walked swiftly down the empty hallways. Though she knew that Mistress was helping her it didn’t keep the prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Try as she might, Mistress still scared her terribly.
The past few weeks had been very much the same, lessons with Mistress for the better part of the day then the rest to herself, generally to do as she pleased unless Mistress said otherwise. Though in retrospect it sounded rather boring, Kelsi found everything she had learned enthralling. She clung to every word Mistress said, finally fitting together the pieces of her perplexing life. Even in her spare time she sought after information, taking books from her desk and reading them feverishly. The scrolls written in a different language were still unintelligible but she had got out the distorted star charts and studied them. She even went as far as sneaking out of her room at night to find the constellations in the darkened sky. Mistress probably knew about her midnight escapades but asking permission would be giving Mistress more power. Mistress already had so much power over her; Kelsi felt she had to fight back in some small way.
Walking down the cryptic corridors, Kelsi smiled as she realized that she now knew her way around the enormous estate. Actually, she knew her way around some of the estate. There were parts of the building that Kelsi had never explored because she was too afraid of what Mistress would say or do. Yet again Kelsi felt another wave of resentment surge through her. She was grateful for all that Mistress had given her but was it worth the fear and imprisonment? The question frequently flew through Kelsi’s mind, agitating her even more.
Kelsi heaved the heavy plank door open, breathing easier now that she was in her own room. Her room was tranquil and she found it a sort of haven from Mistress, even though she knew there wasn’t anything keeping Mistress from entering.
A tray sat on Kelsi’s desk, slowly steaming and smelling delicious. She sat down and examined the food, realizing that even though she didn’t recognize much of it she would hungrily consume it anyways. Munching on some sort of wheat bread, she gazed out the window and admired the fire colored leaves. It was probably mid-autumn so Kelsi estimated that she had been at this estate for about a month, though it felt like she had been here for years. Disappointed, Kelsi noted that she hadn’t learned about “the others” that had taken Lorna captive. The majority of the new information that Kelsi had acquired was history of the sister planets and trivia about the magical creatures that Mistress promised Kelsi soon would interact with. Actual magic wasn’t something had learned about . . . yet. In time Mistress would teach her, but for now she would have to be content with the rare snatches she had seen. She had only seen Mistress do it once or twice and that time Caleb opened the door.
Caleb. That was someone Kelsi hadn’t thought about for a while. She blew on a spoonful of stew as she tried to remember the last time she had seen him.
It was the day after I had seen the bandages on his hands, Kelsi thought, shocked that it had been so long ago. She had assumed that he was gone because he was getting treatment for his injured hands. Now I’m not so sure. What was it that Mistress said when I asked after him? Something about how he was paying for him mistakes. When I asked her what that meant she changed the subject and started to talk about the evil’s of faeries. Is Caleb okay? Kelsi began to worry. He had always been nice to her, what mistakes could he have possibly made? Maybe I should look for him. That’s ridiculous! She chided herself instantly. Mistress would be furious if she found out. But he would do the same for me, I know he would.
Kelsi stood up and brushed the crumbs off her skirt with resolution. She snuck out of her room quietly, tiptoeing down half of the hallway before she nearly burst into peals of laughter. Mistress would suspect her of being up to something if she acted so suspicious. She began to walk regularly, opening every door she came to. After an hour Kelsi began to feel discouraged.
Who am I kidding? I’m never going to find him, this place is huge! I should just go back to my room. She began to turn around until she heard a noise in the next corridor. She tried one of the doors but found it was locked.
“Is anyone there?” She asked and softly knocked.
“Kelsi?” A familiar, cold voice sounded from behind her.
She whipped around. “Mistress, you must be the person I heard!”
“What are you doing here?” Mistress brushed past Kelsi, checking the locked door. A slight look of relief flitted across her face for a mere second.
“I’m just looking for the . . . library!” Kelsi replied a little too brightly.
“The library?”
“You mentioned a library before and it sounded rather intriguing.” Kelsi nearly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed Mistress was taking the bait.
“Why didn’t you just ask me where it is?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. I just thought I’d read up a bit more on dragons. They’re just such fascinating creatures! I mean, how many animals that colossal actually fly? Not many! And the fact that they’re so intelligent, it’s just so amazing!” In her relief Kelsi found herself babbling.
“I’ll show you where the library is,” Mistress began to lead the way.
Kelsi began to follow but looked back reluctantly. She knew she heard something and it wasn’t Mistress. Something was behind that locked door, something that Kelsi wasn’t supposed to know about and that made it all the more interesting. It made it more vital that she figure out what it was.