9/22/2017 0 Comments Voice in the Darkness - Part 2
September 9, 2058
Enough of remembering, she thought, though she couldn’t be sure whether it was the Stellarian or not. It’s almost time to decide. The cool, cramped room held little furniture. One twin-sized bed, a wooden table with a few drawers, and a metal chair were all that Halley needed here. The cement floor was always too cold. A tap sounded on the metal door. “It’s James.” “Come in,” Halley replied, sitting on the made bed. He crept in quietly, closed the door behind him, and sat on the chair. “Have you decided what you’ll do?” he asked her. His eyes widened as he stared behind her. Though she couldn’t see it, she could imagine the silvery thing hovering around her. She shifted on the bed. “No, I haven’t.” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, staring between his feet. “Well, it’s time. Can I tell you what I’ve seen?” He meant his visions. “Fine.” “It was in a dream last night. There’s not enough food in the stores for everyone to survive much longer.” “How much longer?” Halley asked quietly, fearing the answer. “Two weeks.” James stared at her. “And with how greedy people are being lately, you don’t have much time to choo—” “I know that, James!” she hollered. She had stood up, and was now towering over him. “Gosh, I know!” Her heart pounded, and she crossed her arms and began pacing the tiny floor. “Please,” James stood up, turned her towards him, his hands clutching her sweater-clad arms below her shoulders. “Remember everything that you’ve told me? You know that this is right.” Halley was thrust into a vision. Young James sat in front of her, as pale as the ghost hovering behind him. He made no move to cover the dark bruises that stood out on his skin. "What happened?" Halley asked gently. James stared at the cement floor of the bunker and it his lip. The Spirit whispered eagerly in his ears. "It's okay," she said quietly, trying to ignore the thing floating behind him. It laughed silently at her grim expression, daring her to lose her temper. But she simply reached out her hand, gently touching his bruised arm. He tensed at the pain, but sighed, hesitantly making up his mind. "I got into a fight with the other boys," his young voice began, shaking. "I got mad because they said you were an old witch." He finally glanced up at her, his expression mixed with anger and remorse. She sighed at the comment, but sternly she asked, "did you hurt them?" James looked back down and nodded. "I'm sorry. I don't-- I'm sorry..." His words were choked away, and his shoulders shook as he began to sob. "I forgive you," Halley said, breathing a sigh of relief and pulling him close. "I'm glad you told me." The spirit, who had slowly become angry, was now fleeing down the hall in terror. She held him to her chest as he cried, kissing his soft, warm head and rubbing his back. They were finally alone. That's my boy. “You taught me to tell the truth,” James said as the vision faded. “You taught me to do the right thing when I knew what it was in my heart.” His gray eyes locked with hers as he came into focus. “James,” Halley sighed, pulling his tall frame towards her into a hug, “that was quite unexpected.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I think you needed to see it.” Halley blinked a warm tear from her eye, still holding James. As she thought about the moment when she would have to confront the rest of the town, to use her powers, she felt herself growing warm with fear, her heart pounding. She pulled back from him and looked him in the eye. “Go with me,” she pleaded. “Always.” September 10, 2058 The shuffle of footsteps echoed on the gray walls as people slowly made their way to their posts. They were going to keep trying to grow food in unnatural and “innovative” ways, or guard the bunker door, or teach the children everything they could remember about the world seventeen years ago. It was a normal day, where most everyone grumbled about their useless work. It was amazing that it had stayed this unchaotic. But there was no doubt that Falcon Gulf would never be the same, no matter how hard they tried. Halley peered around the corner, into the wide hall. The ceiling was taller there, and a low platform jutted out from the side. She eyed it hesitantly. “Go,” James whispered behind her. “There are plenty of people here to listen to you.” Her palms became warm and damp as she held them in her sweater’s pockets. The hall was like a two-way street, flowing past the stage, but the traffic wasn’t heavy. It would be easy to get to the platform, and she couldn’t let that flow turn into a trickle. Too many of the disgruntled workers trailed silver spirits behind them. Halley took a breath and closed her eyes. The image of Father Moon came into her mind, of the young Star reminding her of her responsibility. A Stellarian must always be humble and obedient. She stepped out into the stream, James close behind her. Her heart quickened as they approached that platform behind the other workers. The silvery figures seemed to stare at her as though they knew exactly what she had planned. She took her hands out of her pockets and felt cool air dry them. Her leg rose to lift her onto the stage, and James got up to stand next to her. They turned towards the floor. The river of people slowed to an ocean of eyes looking up at her, indignant and confused. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs, her legs beginning to finally feel like they wouldn’t keep her up. They trembled as the spirits whispered intently in the audience’s ears, and they began to walk away, resuming their daily routine. “Wait,” James said, his voice strong. Halley sighed in sudden relief, but she didn’t turn her head to look at him. “We have something to say.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn to her. She took a shaky breath. She must have looked stiff as cardboard. “Yes, and it’s very important,” Halley began, hating the sound of her voice. It echoed off the walls. But she now had all the workers’ attention. “The message seventeen years ago was misinterpreted. There is no danger above ground.” Someone near the stage huffed at her. “Ha! That’s ridiculous. What do you know?” He wore something like a janitor’s jumpsuit and carried a bucket of cleaning supplies. He ran a large hand through his thin, gray hair and shook his head. “I know much more than you think,” Halley insisted, looking down at the Stellarian crouching over him. “I see things that you don’t.” Half of the people began wandering away. “Please, don’t go,” she said louder. Some of them glanced back, but most of them refused to acknowledge her. She anxiously played with her clammy fingers, searching for the next words to say before she lost more of her audience. “What Ms. Tanner meant to say is that the danger is actually right here,” James spoke up. “At the end of two weeks, none of us will have any food left.” “What?” A dark-skinned woman called. “Only the pantry workers know about the stores, and I am one!” she thrust a thumb at herself. “We have plenty of food!” “You don’t understand,” Halley began, a thrill of confidence running through her. “James can see the future.” Murmurs of “whatever” and “yeah, right” sighed through the hall as the workers began to trickle out, shaking their heads at the crazy people on the stage. “Listen to me!” Halley cried desperately, her hands clasped pleadingly in front of her. “It’s not just the food! You can’t see it, but the Ahdritian Stellarians—they’re on you all the time!” She watched as the spirits, all synchronized and horrified, clasped their webby hands over the people’s ears like a parent protecting their child from bad language. “They whisper lies in your ears that sound like your own thoughts, and the only way to fight back is to resist what they say!” “Well, just to humor you, ma’am,” a middle-aged man replied slowly, “how would we even know what thoughts are those… Stellawhatevers talking to us?” “Well…” Halley looked over to James, who waited expectantly for her reply. She turned back to the man on the floor and said, “they enjoy tempting you to take the easy way out.” “And what’s wrong with that?” he asked, crossing his arms. “The more you give in to it, the more you are under its influence,” she explained, trying to ignore his attitude. It only made her tremble more. “And none of the Ahdritian Stellarians want you to work hard and do the right thing.” “Oh, the ‘right thing,’” the man made air quotes and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry to say, lady, but you’re on the wrong side of history.” The silver figure cackled as he turned and walked away. Halley watched, breathing heavily, as the little crowd dwindled. She turned to James, whose expression was pained, his posture defeated. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking down to the ground. “I thought we could do it.” She stretched her arms around his manly shoulders, his arms hanging down helplessly beside him. Though he was tall and wide, he still had the scent of a little boy coming back from a romp in the dirt. But everything here smelled like dirt. Her lungs filled with the too-familiar smell, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forbidding tears to escape. She exhaled. “I forgive you, James. You were right.” “I just wish I could see more,” he replied, pulling back and looking into her eyes. “If only I could see the best way to get them to listen. To get them to change.” She looked back at the little boy in a man’s body and sighed, smiling forlornly. “They are the ones who choose to change.” “Hey!” A young, female voice cut through the quietness. She gazed up at them with bright blue, innocent eyes. “I believe you!” “Really?” Halley blinked. “But… what were you even doing out here? You’re supposed to be in school!” She stepped off the platform to meet the little girl. “Oh,” she sighed, and looked down abashedly. “Well, I didn’t want to go today. School is boring.” Halley sighed and crouched down so that she was eye to eye with the little girl. “What’s your name?” “Kristie.” “Kristie, do you really believe me?” “Yes.” “Then listen,” Halley began, a spark of hope glinting in her heart, “Go back to school for the rest of the day, and then I’ll meet you and tell you how you can help us. Okay?” “But I don’t like school!” She faltered. “But neither do the Ahdr—the bad Stellarians. They don’t want you to learn about the world.” She sighed. “They don’t want you to know about its danger, and they don’t want you to know about its beauty. But I,” Halley put her hand over her heart, “I want you to be safe and happy in the world. So can you do that for me?” She looked hopefully at Kristie as she nodded a little bit. “Go on,” Halley said, waving the little girl away, watching her bounce off down the hall. Halley, smiling hopefully, turned to look up at James, still on the stage. His arms were crossed. “It’s a good start,” she said positively, looking at his stern face. “Oh, I know,” he sighed as he stepped down. “You don’t seem okay with that, though.” Her smile faded. He hesitated. She knew him too well. “Come on. Let’s just go to our stations.” He sighed and moved past her. “James, what’s wrong?” Halley asked. “This is promising.” “A little girl?” “Yes, a little girl,” she insisted. “She is better than no one.” “Sure, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem like enough.” Halley set a hand on his back. “Let’s just wait and see, James.”
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Lily Calicois an aspiring composer, writer, artist and musician. Archives
March 2018
CategoriesAll Arty Thoughts Book Reviews Monthly Updates Music Narrative Writing Notes To Self Poetry Writing Rambling About Writing Stories Theological |