Monday, April 18, 2005

   Chapter 2: Falamarana (part 2)
Forcing herself back into her memory, she recollected that she was pulled out of the fire by a boy—Blues. She remembered a sea of violet, and darkness, and anger. His arms were comforting.... holding her from the black abyss from which she could never return.
She opened her eyes again and examined her fingers. They were human. Pushing herself up, she ran her fingers through her tangled hair. Her whole body was the same as it had been before the fire.
Her blue-green eyes reached the anklet that her grandmother had put on her when she was a baby. It was made of beautiful silver, with tiny jewels of many different colors embedded into it. One huge, violet stone was encrusted in the front. It was a handbreadth wide, and had no lock to take it off. Her grandmother said that she would find it in time.
Ava. She could barely remember her—the time she had spent with her grandmother felt like a long, wonderful dream. The single most vivid image she had left in her mind was her eyes. Ava had terrible, fantastic blue eyes that were filled with sky. She had showed her how to read the four poems engraved in it, but never told her what they meant.
But there was no time now; she had to find out where she was. The redhead slipped out of bed, bracing herself for the cold floor beneath her bare feet. To her surprise, the wood was comfortably warm, as if a heat panel was put underneath.
She made her way to the lone mirror, and faced her own reflection.
She was a tall, twelve-year-old girl, with unruly, thick, orange-red hair that came down to her hips because she had never cut it. Her arms were flecked with scars, some that she had since before she could remember; others that she got from climbing mountains—her favorite pastime. She was still wearing the remnants of the pajamas she had on from the night the kidnapper had taken her.
Staring into the mirror, she spotted something else. A folded-up robe lay at the foot of the white bed. It was light violet in color and made of a silken material. She hesitated, but felt embarrassed walking around in her dirty, torn pajamas. With a quick check that the door was locked, she changed into it. Its color made her hair look still redder as it fell over her ankles in graceful curves.
Feeling very comfortable in her new clothes, she unlocked the wooden door, opened it, and entered a hallway. Well, a kidnapper wouldn’t leave the door open, she thought, stilling some of her fears.
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