Post by Lady Jessie on Sept 30, 2006 3:47:25 GMT -5
NOTE: This story's not actually dramatic, but there was no miscellaneous category! Thus, I decided that "Drama" was the closest to "Misc." and put it here.
They do not know I know. They have no idea.
They do not even know what I know. They are a part of my knowledge. They cannot know what the are. They would not believe me, for a start.
I am alone. Of that I am sure. I do not remember when I became sure, nor how. I am also sure that I cannot tell anyone of my surety. It is not that I do not want to be ridiculed—although I must confess that I do not—it is that there is no one to tell. Those who I had long accepted as my friends and my family, they are not any people. They are no people.
They do not exist.
I suppose now is the time where I ought to be introducing myself. It is a great pity that I cannot tell you. I do not know who I am. Here, I do not exist. Along with my world and my tribe, I do not exist.
But I do exist. I know I exist. I must exist. If I did not exist, I would not be able to write. I am sure that the real me is not here at all, but in another world. I am convinced that this world—my world, my tribe, and everything I know—is all but an illusion.
Now you understand why my tribe would believe me mad.
My tribe—they who do not exist—call me Tala. I am thirteen years old. I have been thirteen years old for years, I feel, however I never grow any older. It is always May, June, July, August. I do not remember there being a winter for the longest time. Not since February. And, as I have already told you, that was years ago.
Wait... I did not. But unless you are an idiot, you must have worked that out. It is never winter and it is never February.
I often have peculiar dreams. Or, rather, two peculiar dreams. Sometimes, I have a normal dream, ridiculous though they are. Mostly, I do not.
One of my dreams involves an old woman. I believe I have had the dream at least a thousand times since I was a mere toddler. The dream never changes. I see myself exactly as I am now. I have always seen the girl in my dream as I am now. When I was but five, I did not know who she was. It was not until I grew older, and closer to my current appearance, that I realised she was me.
As for my dream. I am walking through the forests close to our huts when I come to a small clearing. I see an old woman with short, grey hair. This is foreign to me. Women do not have short hair. The old woman has very dark brown eyes. They are almost black. She stares and I do not move. I never do. I do not believe it is that I cannot—I believe it is just that I do not want to.
After an age, the old woman calls out to me. Her voice is soft and old. It is pleading and yet insistent at once.
"Tala," the old woman calls. "Tala."
"I am here," I reply. "What do you want, old woman?"
The woman wobbles on her feet unsteadily and clutches at her long, wooden staff for support. "Shush," she instructs me. "Do not tell anyone of me."
I nod energetically. I do not speak; she told me not to.
"Tala," she says, wobbling even more erratically than before. She then falls onto the ground, leaning on a rock. "A crystal..."
I blink. "A crystal?" I ask. "What crystal? Tell me, old woman."
"A blue crystal," the old woman replies softly. "You must find it, Tala."
It is then I wake up. I need a blue crystal, and yet where would I find such a thing? The crystals we have in our huts are largely clear, or else very white and pale. None are blue.
Then there is my other dream. It is short. At the start of my dream, I wake up. I do not know where I am. I cannot breathe, but I am not suffocating. I am surrounded by ice. I do not know where the ice comes from. I try to turn my head and see where I am, but I cannot. It is frozen in place. I am cold.
It is then that I close my eyes again. I usually awaken several hours afterwards.
There is much I do not understand. My dreams confuse me. The way it is always May, June, July or August confuses me. No one else sees anything odd. Is there a reason why? Why does this place not exist? Why is it never winter? Why am I thirteen forever? Why do I dream such odd things?
There is one thing I am certain I must do. I must listen to the old woman. She is wise. Her eyes are wise. She knows what I must do. I must find the blue crystal. It will tell me why.
* * *
It is hard to find something without telling anyone about it. I cannot tell them of the crystal, and they will not help unless I tell them of the crystal! It is not fair. I am not wise. There is much I do not know�??such as the location to certain blue crystals I must find.
I try to sneak into the rock man's hut, but he sees me. I must practise my sneaking skills. I do not think there are any blue crystals in his hut. I did not see anything before being chased out. Where are blue crystals? Where are they found? Are they charmed?
Maybe they are charmed so that I cannot find them. It would make sense. But if I cannot find a blue crystal, why would the old woman tell me to find one? It would be silly and useless. I do not think that is the reason.
Maybe the crystal is far away. Maybe it is hidden in a cave with many other crystals. I do not want to walk all the way to the caves.
Maybe I am ignoring something obvious, then. Maybe the crystal is on a necklace, or a bracelet, or the hilt of a sword, and I have just forgotten to look there.
If someone could help me, this would be a lot easier.
* * *
A day later...
I dreamed about the wise old woman last night. I told her that I did not know where the crystal was, and she paused, deviating from how the dream has always gone. Then she spoke again.
"Tala," she said commandingly. "Tala, do what is good."
"Old woman!" I cry. "That does not help!"
"Do what is needed," the old woman rephrases, before the dream returns to its normal course.
Do what is needed. What is needed?
* * *
Several days later...
I asked my friend to help me. I believe that I need my friend's help. I am not doing so well in my search for the crystal on my own.
I did not tell Ferra about the old woman or my dream. She did not even ask me what I needed the crystal for. The old woman is very wise indeed.
It took us nearly a week of searching caves, fields and huts before we came to a large, blue crystal. It was not a normal crystal. It was not merely blue, it was light. It must have absorbed every trace of light in the dark tunnel and reflected it back at us.
I turn to Ferra. "This is a special crystal," I announce, while she continues to stare at the rock.
"It is," Ferra agrees.
I sigh. "I do not know what this crystal does," I tell my old friend, "but it is charmed. It is charmed to help me."
Ferra stares. "Can it help me, too?" she asks innocently. I shrug.
"I do not know," I shrug. "This might be goodbye, Ferra." I place my hand against the crystal, just briefly. It is the temperature of ice. It is cold. It is cold everywhere, as a matter of fact...
* * *
A dark-haired short girl was looking down at Tala as she awoke. She had been lying down, and was very cold.
"Who are you?" Tala asked pointedly.
The dark-haired girl smiled. "Did you have an interesting dream, too?" she asked.
"So I was right," Tala said aloud.
"Do you remember, Tala? Do you remember your old life?"
Tala blinked several times before memory flooded back to her. She grinned.
"Mari!" she exclaimed. "How is everyone? Did they have strange dreams, too?"
"We think it might have had something to do with the drug administered before suspension," she informed Tala. "Everyone appears to have had the same dream so far."
"What, of being a primitive tribe?"
Mari blinked. "No," she said, "of ice-skating with a hippopotamus. You're something of an oddity."
"Ice-skating with a..."
"Yes," Mari smiled. "Now, um, I have to tend to lots of other people now. Remember?"
"Yes. Go ahead," Tala told her friend, "I'll just sit here and think about the past three thousand years."
Mari left her friend, and Tala quickly walked to a mirror in the white room.
Her reflection told her that she wasn't very old by the standards of the day: only seventy. In her tribe, however, it would have been ancient.
Tala then realised something else. The short grey hair, the dark brown eyes... it was all unmistakable.
Tala was the old woman.
They do not know I know. They have no idea.
They do not even know what I know. They are a part of my knowledge. They cannot know what the are. They would not believe me, for a start.
I am alone. Of that I am sure. I do not remember when I became sure, nor how. I am also sure that I cannot tell anyone of my surety. It is not that I do not want to be ridiculed—although I must confess that I do not—it is that there is no one to tell. Those who I had long accepted as my friends and my family, they are not any people. They are no people.
They do not exist.
I suppose now is the time where I ought to be introducing myself. It is a great pity that I cannot tell you. I do not know who I am. Here, I do not exist. Along with my world and my tribe, I do not exist.
But I do exist. I know I exist. I must exist. If I did not exist, I would not be able to write. I am sure that the real me is not here at all, but in another world. I am convinced that this world—my world, my tribe, and everything I know—is all but an illusion.
Now you understand why my tribe would believe me mad.
My tribe—they who do not exist—call me Tala. I am thirteen years old. I have been thirteen years old for years, I feel, however I never grow any older. It is always May, June, July, August. I do not remember there being a winter for the longest time. Not since February. And, as I have already told you, that was years ago.
Wait... I did not. But unless you are an idiot, you must have worked that out. It is never winter and it is never February.
I often have peculiar dreams. Or, rather, two peculiar dreams. Sometimes, I have a normal dream, ridiculous though they are. Mostly, I do not.
One of my dreams involves an old woman. I believe I have had the dream at least a thousand times since I was a mere toddler. The dream never changes. I see myself exactly as I am now. I have always seen the girl in my dream as I am now. When I was but five, I did not know who she was. It was not until I grew older, and closer to my current appearance, that I realised she was me.
As for my dream. I am walking through the forests close to our huts when I come to a small clearing. I see an old woman with short, grey hair. This is foreign to me. Women do not have short hair. The old woman has very dark brown eyes. They are almost black. She stares and I do not move. I never do. I do not believe it is that I cannot—I believe it is just that I do not want to.
After an age, the old woman calls out to me. Her voice is soft and old. It is pleading and yet insistent at once.
"Tala," the old woman calls. "Tala."
"I am here," I reply. "What do you want, old woman?"
The woman wobbles on her feet unsteadily and clutches at her long, wooden staff for support. "Shush," she instructs me. "Do not tell anyone of me."
I nod energetically. I do not speak; she told me not to.
"Tala," she says, wobbling even more erratically than before. She then falls onto the ground, leaning on a rock. "A crystal..."
I blink. "A crystal?" I ask. "What crystal? Tell me, old woman."
"A blue crystal," the old woman replies softly. "You must find it, Tala."
It is then I wake up. I need a blue crystal, and yet where would I find such a thing? The crystals we have in our huts are largely clear, or else very white and pale. None are blue.
Then there is my other dream. It is short. At the start of my dream, I wake up. I do not know where I am. I cannot breathe, but I am not suffocating. I am surrounded by ice. I do not know where the ice comes from. I try to turn my head and see where I am, but I cannot. It is frozen in place. I am cold.
It is then that I close my eyes again. I usually awaken several hours afterwards.
There is much I do not understand. My dreams confuse me. The way it is always May, June, July or August confuses me. No one else sees anything odd. Is there a reason why? Why does this place not exist? Why is it never winter? Why am I thirteen forever? Why do I dream such odd things?
There is one thing I am certain I must do. I must listen to the old woman. She is wise. Her eyes are wise. She knows what I must do. I must find the blue crystal. It will tell me why.
* * *
It is hard to find something without telling anyone about it. I cannot tell them of the crystal, and they will not help unless I tell them of the crystal! It is not fair. I am not wise. There is much I do not know�??such as the location to certain blue crystals I must find.
I try to sneak into the rock man's hut, but he sees me. I must practise my sneaking skills. I do not think there are any blue crystals in his hut. I did not see anything before being chased out. Where are blue crystals? Where are they found? Are they charmed?
Maybe they are charmed so that I cannot find them. It would make sense. But if I cannot find a blue crystal, why would the old woman tell me to find one? It would be silly and useless. I do not think that is the reason.
Maybe the crystal is far away. Maybe it is hidden in a cave with many other crystals. I do not want to walk all the way to the caves.
Maybe I am ignoring something obvious, then. Maybe the crystal is on a necklace, or a bracelet, or the hilt of a sword, and I have just forgotten to look there.
If someone could help me, this would be a lot easier.
* * *
A day later...
I dreamed about the wise old woman last night. I told her that I did not know where the crystal was, and she paused, deviating from how the dream has always gone. Then she spoke again.
"Tala," she said commandingly. "Tala, do what is good."
"Old woman!" I cry. "That does not help!"
"Do what is needed," the old woman rephrases, before the dream returns to its normal course.
Do what is needed. What is needed?
* * *
Several days later...
I asked my friend to help me. I believe that I need my friend's help. I am not doing so well in my search for the crystal on my own.
I did not tell Ferra about the old woman or my dream. She did not even ask me what I needed the crystal for. The old woman is very wise indeed.
It took us nearly a week of searching caves, fields and huts before we came to a large, blue crystal. It was not a normal crystal. It was not merely blue, it was light. It must have absorbed every trace of light in the dark tunnel and reflected it back at us.
I turn to Ferra. "This is a special crystal," I announce, while she continues to stare at the rock.
"It is," Ferra agrees.
I sigh. "I do not know what this crystal does," I tell my old friend, "but it is charmed. It is charmed to help me."
Ferra stares. "Can it help me, too?" she asks innocently. I shrug.
"I do not know," I shrug. "This might be goodbye, Ferra." I place my hand against the crystal, just briefly. It is the temperature of ice. It is cold. It is cold everywhere, as a matter of fact...
* * *
A dark-haired short girl was looking down at Tala as she awoke. She had been lying down, and was very cold.
"Who are you?" Tala asked pointedly.
The dark-haired girl smiled. "Did you have an interesting dream, too?" she asked.
"So I was right," Tala said aloud.
"Do you remember, Tala? Do you remember your old life?"
Tala blinked several times before memory flooded back to her. She grinned.
"Mari!" she exclaimed. "How is everyone? Did they have strange dreams, too?"
"We think it might have had something to do with the drug administered before suspension," she informed Tala. "Everyone appears to have had the same dream so far."
"What, of being a primitive tribe?"
Mari blinked. "No," she said, "of ice-skating with a hippopotamus. You're something of an oddity."
"Ice-skating with a..."
"Yes," Mari smiled. "Now, um, I have to tend to lots of other people now. Remember?"
"Yes. Go ahead," Tala told her friend, "I'll just sit here and think about the past three thousand years."
Mari left her friend, and Tala quickly walked to a mirror in the white room.
Her reflection told her that she wasn't very old by the standards of the day: only seventy. In her tribe, however, it would have been ancient.
Tala then realised something else. The short grey hair, the dark brown eyes... it was all unmistakable.
Tala was the old woman.