“Inside of what…Inside of me?” Rayna breathed, exasperated by this guys strangeness, and with a fear that he was telling the truth and really did know something about her that even she didn’t know about herself. “You don’t even know my name! You can’t claim to know anything about me at all!”
“Your name is Rayna. You have a blackness inside you. Humans call it depression. But, it is not humans who get this type of ‘depression’…No…Only greenhorns experience this darkness, and it is not what some humans think it is.” Ronan told her, becoming very serious as he spoke.
He finally let his hand slip from Rayna’s arm, leaving a burning mark only she could feel.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’re playing some weird joke on me…it’s totally not funny. There are much easier and more normal ways to meet girls at a new school.”
With that, Rayna began walking hesitantly towards her English class, but stopped short when Ronan whispered, “You’re not one of them, Rayna. You’re different. The dark inside of you isn’t something a doctor can fix, nor does it need fixin’.”
Rayna slowly turned around and met his fierce green eyes. “What are you talking about? I’m already way late for my class, so you’d better spill it.”
“Like I was sayin’ before. You’re what we call a greenhorn. You’re not human, but you’re not completely like me. This darkness inside you isn’t human either.” Ronan never let his eyes shift from hers.
“You’re still not making any sense. Greenhorn? What the heck is that? And you’re acting all weird. So what you’re telling me is that you’re not human…but how can that even be possible? What would that make you? What would that make me?” Rayna’s voice began to tremble. Whatever Ronan was getting at, she was ready for him to stop. This was too much. He was crazy…right?
“No. I’m not human…and neither are you. Well not completely anyway.” A strange smile began to play on Ronan’s face now. “I am fey. You are a greenhorn – a young half-bred who hasn’t learned to master her darkness yet.”
“Ya, okay. You are a fairy and I am a half-fairy. Very funny. I’m leaving.” Rayna tries again to leave but Ronan keeps talking and what he’s saying makes it hard for her to keep moving.
“Never say that! I am not a fairy! I hate that word! I am fey; part of the Aphotic race of faeries. A fairy is a fair a happy little creature – that is nowhere near who I am! Anyway, this darkness inside of you is your Aphotic inheritance. You see, the Aphotics are a dark race of fey. No particularly evil, just sentenced to do the dark biddin’s of the earth, like putting the forests and creatures to sleep before the winter, coverin’ the earth in the shadows of night, and carryin’ the messages that summon Death to the mortal world.”
Ronan stopped here to see how Rayna was taking it. Her mouth was slightly open and she had a look of shock and understanding mixed into her expression. Seeing as how she was at a loss for words, and didn’t seem like she was going to try to walk away on him again, Ronan continued.
“Mortals call your darkness depression, not knowin’ or understandin’ what it really is. You were born with it inside of you, therefore it cannot be depression, somethin’ that comes on later in a mortal life. Now that you are of age, your darkness is tryin’ to come out so you can take your place in the other half of your life, the half you will stay in for as long as you continue to exist.
“Many greenhorns will die by their own doin’ if they are not reached in time. The dark inside of them – that which is inside of you – must be brought out and conquered before it consumes the weak part of your mortal mind, ultimately leadin’ you into destroyin’ yourself.”
Rayna stood staring at him for a while, and Ronan let her, waiting for the hysteric laughter, tear, or arguing that accompany this conversation with all the other greenhorns he’s had to find. He waits longer, but Rayna’s response is slow to come and when it does, it’s not what he’s expecting at all. Quietly, Rayna places the books she’s been grasping in her arms gently on the ground beside her feet. She stands up tall and walks towards him. She stops in front of him a little ways and holds out her arm to him. He looks at the tips of her fingers, ready to grasp his, and then looks back into her pale blue eyes, searching for an explanation and a clue on how to react. She stares back. Her voice is soft and quiet, on the verge of tears, when she answers his unspoken question.
“Then I’ll do what I must to bring it out. Everything you say…it’s everything I feel. My ‘dark days’ are what I call them, and they are visiting me more often than ever. I can’t hold on much longer and I am willing to trust you if it means getting rid of this dark rotting me from the inside.”
Ronan gently reaches for her hand still outstretched towards him. He takes it in his, intertwining his strong fingers into her delicate ones, and catches a glimpse of a small tear falling from her eye lash right before she reaches up and quickly brushes it away.
“When you feel my heat, look into my eyes – it’s where my demons hide, it’s where my demons hide. Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside – it’s where my demons hide, it’ where my demons hide.” – Imagine Dragons
There are the good days, full of happiness and content, and then there are the “dark days,” as Rayna calls them. Days where nothing is right on the inside. She can pull herself together for her friends, laugh at there not-so-funny jokes, and give them all her smiles. She can come home to her family, love them and enjoy their company. But it is all a mask; a clever trick of the light that she has been able to pull off since she was a little child.
Rayna has walked the earth for eighteen years with that same happy glow on the outside, but with a blackness on the inside. No one sees it, no one knows. Her dark days come when she’s least expecting them, making her mask ever stronger for the coming attacks. She wants help; she wants someone to see through her shell and into her being, but no one can and she’s afraid to look for the help she so desperately needs. She doesn’t want to be “that girl” who needs medication to be happy, or be shamed for her harmful thoughts of prematurely calling on death.
It’s Monday, and another dark day for her. They seem to be coming more often as of late. She gets up, pulls on the mask, and prepares for another long day of school and struggles no one will ever see. She walks down the crowded halls, smiling at every passer-by until she reaches her locker. That’s when she sees him, a boy with pale skin and knowing eyes. She’s sure she has never seen him around before. Suddenly she hears her best friend Chelsea’s harsh voice in her ear,
“What do you mean?” she answers, a little startled at Chelsea’s silent approach.
“The new kid you were just staring at. I’ve heard his name is Ronan. Just moved here from Ireland – I think. I thought he would be cool, but I’ve talked to him and he’s a total jerk! Totally a waste of breath! Oh well, what can you do? Anyway, better get to class. See you at lunch!” and with that, Chelsea makes her way into the science lab.
Chelsea was always bursting with energy and told it how she saw it. She could be a bit overpowering at times, but that’s just what Rayna needed. She felt like she could hide behind Chelsea’s huge presence if her mask was ever to waver.
Rayna realized the bell was about to ring and the only way to get to her English class was to pass by the new kid who was still staring. She collected her books from her locker, and clutching them tightly to her, made her way to class, trying desperately not to make eye contact with the new guy – Ronan. There was something about his eyes that she didn’t quite like…a knowing gaze she had never had to face before.
She was almost to him. She could make it, no big deal. That’s when his arm reached out and caught hers. The books in her grasp went tumbling to the floor after her hold was loosened in her shock. The bell had rung and the halls were clear; there was no one to save her if she should need them. She searched herself and found the courage to look into his face. Once her pale blue eyes meet his fierce green ones, he started speaking to her. Rayna had expected his voice to be as fierce and demanding as his eyes. Instead she was surprised to find it calm and controlled, laden with that becoming Irish accent.
Then she realized what he was saying.
“I see what it is like on the inside. You don’t need to hide it from me. I’m Ronan. Sorry for freaking you out with my staring…that’s one of my habits I can’t seem to break because I can’t seem to realize when it’s happnin’. I can help you. I know what’s really going on inside.”
As the night creeps in, the day creatures seek shelter and the air becomes still. All around there is a stillness that never occurs in the sunlight. But that will change shortly. For a new life is about to bloom; the life of the night.
The air stirs ever so slightly, there is movement in the skies. Clouds heavy with a cold burden cover the rays of the silver moon. A breeze gently whispers to the night creature, “The time is now. The night is here. Enjoy yourselves with quiet cheer.” A snowflake falls and a laugh rings clear through the blackness. The temperature drops and now the snow is falling in a flurry like madness.
Another laugh and a rush of air. Could there be someone there? The still of night, a silent pleasure; breath stealing cold, going on as if forever. The night is conquered by a cold new world – even colder than the night’s black cover.
Winter has arrived on those heavy clouds. Round he goes to spread his snow and his shiver. If you hear that laughter breaking through the quiet of the night, go back to the warm of your room. Leave a white candle on your window sill and close it behind the curtains, but pray, do not light it. Lay down you head in the warmth of your bed and pray Winter wont find his way in.
When you wake at the rays of daybreak, go gently to your window sill. If, when you pull back your curtains, you see the spikes of frost on the glass, you know Winter was at ease. He saw the sad, cold candle and left a kiss for you on your window to let you know he has seen your lonely white offering.
Now you may be calm, for the silent Winter has gone and left you with a unique little gift. Ice frozen sharp from the lips and cold heart of a well please Winter night.
© Lindsay Amber
The question is: If you could have personally witnessed one event in history, what would you want to have seen?
The Day is November 17th and the year is 1558. I am decked out in the most extravagant gown I could find, standing along the edge of a red carpet that has been stretched along the center of the polished tile floor. The high ceilings of the Westminster Abbey in London rise high above my head, reminding me how small I really am. The crowd has gathered outside of the Abbey, but I have the privilege to be standing inside with a handful of others, witnessing in person this amazing historic event. I am waiting with some apprehension for Elizabeth I to walk down that red carpet and take her seat upon a gold throne that waits at the end. Today Elizabeth I of London will be crowned queen of both London and Ireland. Today is her coronation, and that is the historic event I have chosen to see.
In a sleepy English town in the early 1900’s, there lived a little girl balancing between the ages of six and seven. The little girl’s name was Tally. She was a wild little thing who very soon became out-of-place in her quiet English town. She would run though the forests, jump over streams, roll down all the hills, and play marbles in the streets, but ever time she was at the height of her game, gentleman, ladies, farmers, or maids would chase her off for causing “too much excitement.” Tally’s parents soon began to get complaints of their daughter “stirring up the air.” With many hours spent together discussing ways to keep their daughter out of the people’s way, Tally’s parents made the decision to get her a pet.
“Not a rat,” said Tally’s father, “she will surly lose the thing in our pantry.”
“Indeed she shall. Not a cat either,” agreed Tally’s mother, “they are much too delicate, she will soon lose interest.”
“Much too delicate. I should hate to think of a dog,” informed Tally’s father, “the poor brute will be run to exhaustion.”
“And not a pretty, little song bird,” Tally’s mother told her father, “she should be expected to get into too much mischief with a pet who can fly.”
Tally’s parents were unable to come to an agreement on which pet would be best for Tally. It’s not that Tally was cruel. On the contrary, Tally loved animals of all shapes and sizes and would never wish to harm a single hair on any of their heads. It’s just that she had too much spirit for an ordinary pet to handle.
The morning after Tally’s parents had their discussion, they all took a trip to town together. Tally soon ran ahead after her ball while her mother and father noticed an old man standing on the street corner with a sign that read “RETIRED CIRCUS ELEPHANT FOR SALE TO GOOD HOME! ALL OFFERS CONSIDERED.” The parents exchanged a look. That was it! If no ordinary pet would do for Tally, it would have to be an extraordinary pet!
Seeing as no one seemed interested in the man’s sign, Tally’s parents took their chance. Before they knew it they had bought an elephant. They gave the old gentleman his dues and he informed them that with the father’s help, he would have him delivered late this afternoon. The father gratefully agreed and followed the man to wherever the elephant was being kept. Tally’s mother quickly rushed her home and made Tally play the piano for her until father arrived – which was a task in itself just to get Tally to stay still!
When Tally and her mother heard a knock on the door, Tally’s mother allowed her to go receive it. When little Tally opened the great door, she saw her father grinning wildly while a huge, solemn-looking elephant stood beside him! Tally was delighted! She ran all around the elephant and coaxed it out into the center of the garden so they had more room to play. Reluctantly at first, the elephant followed Tally to the garden. There in the daffodils, Tally bestowed the elephant with the name “Rumba” and they became instant companions.
Within a week of Rumba’s arrival, the two were inseparable. Never has Tally again bothered a neighbor or a towns folk with her rowdiness, for only her laughter and Rumba’s trumpet echo through their garden.
© Lindsay Amber
Classic books are totally different from the literature of today. Classics are usually written with a different dialog than we would normally hear being used today. They can be a little hard to make out at first, but practice makes perfect. I personally love the different dialogs the classics are written in, especially the types used in Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. I believe classic books are very important to the literary world, and I hope you enjoy this list of my top eleven classic books I made, which I think everyone who loves reading should get a chance to read. Even if you don’t care to read, you should give them a try. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!
1. Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
2. Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne.
3. Dracula by Bram Stoker.
4. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.
5. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.
6. The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolken.
7. The Lord of the Rings (trilogy) by J.R.R Tolken.
8. Peter Pan by J.M Berrie.
9. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain.
10. The tragedy of Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.
11. The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway.