There were times when all I wanted was to be alone. I would run down the passage and leap into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Then I’d dive, as gracelessly as a drunkard, onto my bed. Sometimes, I remember locking myself in my room just so that I could sit on the floor and sketch random creatures from my imagination into my drawing book. There were times when I told my parents I wanted to be alone, though I’d never tell them it was only so that I could finish reading a novel or magazine article - or even a note that was passed around the class at school that day. I spent endless hours writing in my diary. I really should’ve stopped after Jacqueline came into my life, as a precaution, but instead I only wrote more frequently. I remember wanting to be on my own a lot. I loved it when Kiara had to go up to the shops and leave me home alone and not because it gave me a sense of authority, but simply because there was nobody else around. I suppose it would’ve made sense for me to have been happy in my isolated cell at Silvia’s Pass’ Primary Prison. Of course, that never works out. When you finally get what you want, you no longer want it; at least that’s what it seems like.
I was finally on my own but that was the last thing that I wanted. Even the mysterious bird had disappeared. All I had for comfort was the letter it had brought me on my first day there. Even that did little to improve my mood as it dawned on me that I would never be able to answer it. The beautiful fowl was gone and though I peeked out the sealed window for it every few hours, I knew deep down that it was not anywhere near. It felt as far off as the next galaxy, too far to even dream of seeing.
I was allowed one final phone call as is the custom at prison, I think. The only differentiation between this jail and a regular one was that the phone involved was mine. Without any hesitation, I called Don. My voice sounded so alien; cracked and husky, often hitting high notes only to turn into a crackly pain in my throat. Nevertheless, Don knew who it was and it wasn’t just because of caller ID. I couldn’t tell him where I was or anything else about my predicament as a fearsome guard was at my side listening to my every word. What I did manage to say was that I was alright and that I didn’t know how long I’d be gone for but that I hadn’t run away and I didn’t want my cousin to worry about me. I didn’t mention the fact that I was very worried myself, or that I didn’t actually know how safe I was. It sounded like Don was crying and that made me feel terrible. I had seldom heard him cry before so I knew that he was as terrified as I was, but the relief in his voice when he said he couldn’t believe it was me was unmistakable. I felt a pang of longing to run back to my old life and leave all this otherworldly business behind. It seemed, however, just as impossible as me becoming the queen of England. The phone call was cut off before I’d had the chance to finish what I had been saying and I spent the next minute staring helplessly at the small communication device in my hand.
“Don’t worry, Fauls. We aren’t that cruel,” the guard said later, when he returned my phone to me.
“Oh, no, not at all!” I snapped back. My sarcasm was acid.
“You’ve removed all my contacts and personal files as well as every game and form of entertainment or communication from my cell phone and you’ve blocked all my old contacts just in case I remember one of the numbers or someone tries to call me. – But you’ve given me my phone back. Wow! How I will enjoy dumbly staring at the clear, useless, bloody screen!”
“I do not appreciate that tone, Fauls.”
“As if I care!” I jumped in heatedly.
“At least let me finish what I was saying,” he said coldly.
“Oh, and what would that be?” I snarled.
“As I was saying before you and your witch’s tongue interrupted me,” he began. Then there was a clearing of the throat and, “We are not that cruel, especially considering the fact that you slew one of our associates.”
“It was self-defence!” I screamed, tears streaming down my reddened face.
“Which is exactly why we are being so nice to you and have decided to let you talk to someone else who is in your predicament.”
My eyes must have opened so wide that they looked as round as golf balls.
“I’m getting a cell mate?” I breathed, trying to hide the sound of hopefulness from my croaky voice.
The guard laughed, “Not a chance. We have added a new contact to your cellular communication device.”
“My phone?”
“Yes. This person may call you at any time and you may do the same.”
“Aren’t you worried that we might plot together about a way to escape?” I asked, incredulous. The guard laughed again and I frowned.
“There is no way you could get out.”
“And you are monitoring our phone calls?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“There is no need to as there is no way either of you could escape, and we have much more important things to do than listen to two delinquents discussing their petty worries,” he said coolly. That was all there was to the matter. There was nothing else that I could pry from his thick, blotchy lips before the cell door was slammed and locked before me and the light of the outside corridor disappeared. I was left in the dimness of my cell, clutching my knees against my chest and crying. What good is it to talk to another prisoner? I will never meet him/her and there is no chance of escape, otherwise they’d definitely be tapping into our conversations. Who would I be talking to anyways? – A real, dedicated killer? How is this supposed to make me feel better? I want to go home!!! I thought desperately. My throat burned painfully and my chest tightened. Another coughing fit was on its way but I was not sure that I could handle it. How much longer would these go on for? I would gladly have written my exams – even the accursed maths paper – instead of suffering at the hands of an unseen foe in an unknown jail.
Darkness swallowed me up like a sneaky predator. Its stomach was hot and sticky and for that reason I was very thankful to be wearing the short, black dress with its skinny spaghetti-straps. What I didn’t understand was why it was so hot. It was nearly July - one of the coldest months of the year. Nothing logical seemed to explain it and, in any event, I had lost all my faith in logistics. I would not have been surprised if 1 plus 1 was equal to 3. Reason was wrong and the “most unlikely” and “irrational” or “illogical” was right. In that cell, illogic reigned over all – winter was hot and humid, the curls in my once frizzy hair were straightening out more and more each day as though some invisible hand had taken hold of my head with an iron, and a single letter had managed to get through a shatterproof window without making a single crack...
The Star Wars soundtrack started playing suddenly, quite out of the blue – or black rather. At first I was confused and angry; the song had interrupted my train of thought and I didn’t like that. Then I saw the light – bright white – and the object it came from. It looked like an oddly shaped, luminous egg sticking out in the coal-blackness of the room. I reached out hesitantly and gulped in a painful breath, lifted the article to my ear and forced my trembling fingers to find the green button. I could hear light breathing on the other end of the line. I knew I should say something but I was too scared. I didn’t know just what kind of criminal it was that had called me and I didn’t want to find out. For a while I just sat there listening to the light breathing on the other end. I wanted if the person on the other end of the line could hear my wheezy breaths and the loud hammering of my heart against my pained rib cage as clearly as I could hear his/her breathing. I contemplated hanging up as I was too scared to make a sound, but then the person spoke. The voice was soft, weak and timid and then I realised that this person was just as scared of me as I was of... her. It was definitely a she. There was a definite femininity in that quivering voice though I couldn’t quite place it. The pitch was not nearly as high as mine though most people don’t have voices as high as mine, so I have been told on countless occasions, but it just struck me as belonging to a female.
“Hello?” it asked gently, nervously I thought.
“Yes?” I managed to croak back. It felt as though my heart was caught in my throat. I felt all constricted and wheezy again, like a boa had curled itself around my throat and was starting a slow-motion process of suffocating me. It pained me to talk and I sensed another coughing fit creeping upon me.
“I thought you might not answer,” the voice said tremblingly. There was a short pause before she spoke again.
“I don’t blame you, really. After all, you know nothing of my crimes – of why I am here. I do want you to realise, though, that I am in the exact same position as you.”
“Well,” I squawked achingly, “you could tell me why you are here, then.”
“It’s rather complicated. I’d rather not,” she answered slowly, the quiver in her voice lessening considerably.
“Are you a boy or a girl?” she asked curiously.
“A girl, can’t you tell?” I replied hoarsely.
“Not really,” she said with a laugh.
“You sound a bit like a boy whose voice is breaking.”
“Thanks,” I snapped sarcastically. She laughed again; a smooth, silky little laugh that made me feel more comfortable.
“Sorry. I’m an extremely forthright person.”
“My voice does sound terrible though, doesn’t it?”
“Well... It doesn’t sound natural.”
“I don’t think it is natural.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it never used to sound like this. Ever since I was captured it has though... And it hurts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I squeaked, feeling my chest begin to tighten again.
“Must be awful,” she answered; her words no longer fearful but crisp and clear. She had very good enunciation.
“I have to go,” I rasped, feeling the coughs working their way up my throat.
“Alright. Can I call you later?” she said with what sounded like sympathy.
“OK,” I managed to say, the feeling of suffocation starting to take hold of me.
“My name is Ace,” the voice said quickly, and I would have answered, but the coughing started then and I hastily ended the call.
After the coughing and pain had subsided, I curled up like a caterpillar and tried to get some rest. I felt tears prickling down my face but tried to convince myself that they were insignificant. Eventually I stopped breathing so heavily and began to relax...
Then I was in a cool, luminous room. The walls looked as though they had been spray-painted with the liquidised contents of a neon light. I wasn’t even sure if it was possible to do that but it didn’t really matter. There were far more interesting things around me than the bright walls – sparkling sapphire chandeliers and torches held in silver torch holders on the walls. They were the kind of torches that always conveniently appeared in mysterious caves in adventure movies – long wooden sticks that were blazing at the tips. These were unlike any burning torches I’d ever seen in movies though. They were lit at the end with something that must’ve been fire, surely, but looked nothing like it. It smelled strongly of peppermint, and had flames the size of my head – flames that were as brilliantly bright as ultra-violet light and as brilliantly purple. The smell and form of them was alluring. I found myself drawn closer and closer to the flames, opening my mouth wide as the tantalising smell grew stronger. I could almost taste the magical peppermint in the air. It was intoxicating; wafting down my gullet and trachea simultaneously, soothing my voice and opening up my windpipe. I could breathe again. My chest was no longer a taut box of pain. I could talk and laugh and sing and it didn’t hurt. The taste and smell of those blazing torches ran silkily through my body and I felt elated. My feet were moving forwards but they weren’t touching the ground. I was flying forwards, closer and closer to the enticing torches of healing. Everything felt wonderful, and then I caught sight of myself. I was reflected in the shimmering crystalline floor, my hair looking long and straight as a ruler and my eyes glowing in the brightness of my surroundings. I looked so strange, so unlike myself and not only because my hair appeared a red-pink colour in the reflection of the walls and flaming torches. I looked so skinny and my hair had lost every single curl. I could no longer call it a frizzy bush of muddy fur. It was long too; so long that I considered renaming myself Rapunzel. I kept walking about, not really knowing my intentions, just floating carelessly about the room. Then, I halted once more. My reflection in the floor struck me as different from before, somehow. I peered closely, bending down so that all I saw was a large reflection of my face... Only it wasn’t my face. Those eyes were frighteningly pale – the very colour of macadamia nuts! I felt faint.
This isn’t me. Perhaps there is no such thing as “me” anymore. Maybe “Daphne” has ceased to exist. How am I to know how long I’m supposed to be in my body for? Maybe I’ve served my purpose on Earth now... Hey, I think I might be dead! No place in the realm of the living looks like this... Does it? Reincarnation? I could’ve come back as somebody else somewhere else – couldn’t I? Who though? And why? Am I someone else? I still think like me... What’s that glowing thing? I thought.
Something was glowing at the far end of the room. It drew me towards it just as the torches had done. I felt enchanted, drifting towards the glowing object thoughtlessly. As though mesmerised, I found myself before it without even realising I had travelled more than a few paces forward. Then I looked upon the glow, it seemed like a weightless orb of electricity bouncing in the air, at least until I blinked. After that, the glow was merely an outline to a tiny figure. It was a little girl, about five or six years old, with dark brown pigtails. She was crying, more like wailing really. I tried to cheer her up but froze when she looked up into my eyes. She was me. It made no sense that I was somebody else - someone skinny with macadamia-coloured eyes – and that she was me. Little Daphne was before me now and she didn’t know that once I had been her. She had the chubby cheeks I remembered hating for everyone had always wanted to pinch them and say how cute I was. Even her childish howls sounded like me – that voice that had barely altered over the years was mine. Her eyes looked like great basins of blue-grey water that were now overflowing. I began to cry too, though I knew not who “I” was anymore. Everything seemed so bizarre and yet natural. I couldn’t help little Daphne, so I walked over to the large see-through door of the room and turned the knob, ready to encounter my fate...
The Star Wars music started again and I bolted upright, confused tears trickling down my face and I reached out for the cell phone and answered it.
“Ace?” I sniffed, trying to shake the remnants of my alarming dream out of my head.
“Hello. Are you alright?” her voice said tenderly.
“Fine, fine,” I said quickly, almost choking on my own salty tears.
“You don’t sound fine.”
“Such a charming thing for you to say!”
“Sorry.”
“That’s OK.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine really. I’m fine.”
“Your voice sounds a bit better.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you ask them for treatment?”
“Who, the jailers?” I laughed huskily.
“They would give you medication, you know. You’re not imprisoned so that you can die. They obviously want something from you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because it isn’t a normal prison.”
“Surely not,” I yawned.
“Did I wake you?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, but it’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
“It’s just, they make me work during the day so I can’t call then.”
“Oh.”
“What’s your name?”
“Daphne.”
“That’s a nice name...” There was a pause before she probed me cautiously with her crisp voice.
“Why are you here, Daphne?”
“I thought we agreed not to discuss such matters,” I snapped.
“Well, yes, only I didn’t...”
“Look, if you don’t trust me enough to tell me why you’re here then why should I trust you?” I interjected; my voice a little less croaky than before. Shockingly, I thought I could taste the peppermint from my dream.
“I’m sorry, Daphne. It’s not about trust... It’s just that – oh never mind!”
“OK...”
“Wait a minute... Daphne!!! You’re Daphne!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“The last time I checked,” I said. If only in consciousness, I added in my mind.
“I used to send letters to you,” she said.
“I thought Newspaper was in charge of that.”
“He was, but sometimes I’d send instead. Sometimes, when I was working, other people would ask me to send letters too.”
“Like who?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t say,” she said quickly.
“They’re not listening to our conversation. The phone line’s not been tapped into,” I assured her.
“Still, I really can’t say,” Ace answered secretively.
“Fine,” I spat acidly.
“Sorry. I think that you are a noble person, Daphne, and trustworthy too.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I beg to differ.”
“How so?”
“Again, I cannot explain, but believe me, it is not because I have no faith in you.”
“Whatever you say...”
“It’s just that I’ve lost faith in myself,” she finished softly, even coyly.
“And I suppose that you can’t explain that to me either?”
“No. Not now.” It sounded like she was crying, but I didn’t comment.
“Get some rest, Daphne,” she said sadly.
“Right,” I replied indifferently. I could hear sniffs on the other end of the line.
“Maybe you’ll have more confidence in me – and yourself – in the morning.”
“Maybe,” she answered slowly. Then the line went dead and I curled up on the floor and went back to sleep.
I was back in the same mysterious room and the peppermint torches were calling to me, but this time I was prepared. I closed my eyes and walked forward slowly. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen but I was definitely expecting something. Nothing happened though. I opened my eyes and looked around agitatedly. The chamber was buzzing with a creepy sense of quiet. It all seemed overwhelmingly ethereal and serene. The ceiling was shining - a deep magenta - and candles of honey-scented wax adorned the sapphire chandeliers, their flames flickering an unnerving green colour and hissing silent words at me. I was gripped with fear but of what, I knew not. Nothing seemed right and I could feel something approaching me. It was coming closer and closer, soundlessly, effortlessly, and it was weakening me. With every inaudible, invisible step the creature or ghost or person – whatever it was – took, I felt my limbs lose energy and strength. Finally, my legs buckled beneath me and I tumbled onto the crystal floor, which cracked. The chime of thousands of pieces of crystal clinking together was the last thing I heard before it all gave way beneath me and I found myself falling. I was falling at great speed, further and further down into the darkness beneath the vibrant chamber, and I screamed. Then, the fowl flew overhead – that beautiful fowl with gilded wings and a shimmering beak – and it told me not to fear for myself but for Jacqueline. I screamed back at it to help me but it told me that I could help myself. I didn’t understand, but there was no time for thinking about that. I had to find a way to stop my fall. Who knew how far I had to go before I reached the bottom? I reached upwards and outwards searching for something – anything – to grab hold of, but instead of grabbing hold of something, something grabbed hold of me. I was hanging in midair, supported by a single pale hand, and then I saw her – me? Had I really saved myself? Or if it was me who had done the saving, who was it that had been falling and why was I in that person’s body? My saviour pulled me up and then I looked at her more closely and I think I might have screamed again because it was definitely not me there. She was thinner and her hair was longer and darker and straighter, much straighter, and her eyes were macadamia-coloured. The mysterious girl laughed and I recognised the laugh...
I awoke, simultaneously sweaty and shivery, with a pounding heart and a tight network of agitation in my stomach. Without hesitation, I picked up my phone to check the time. It was not yet six o’clock – meaning that Ace was probably still asleep and surely not out delivering messages. Just to be safe, I decided to SMS her instead of calling. This is what I typed:
‘Wat colour r ur eyes?’
Almost instantly I got a response of: ‘Light-ish colour, y?’
I paced up and down my small cell thinking hard. “Light-ish colour”... Hmmm... Sort of cream-brown like a macadamia? I wondered. Then I typed:
‘Very light brown? Unusual – sort of colour of macadamias?’
I sat there, still and breathing hard, waiting for a reply. I didn’t have to wait long for her simple answer of: ‘Guess so... How’d u knw + y???’
‘Help me + I’ll help u,’ I typed.
‘Wat u mean???’
‘Hard to explain’
‘Try me’
‘Do u speak French?’
‘Yes tell me wats goin on!!!’
I released a breath I’d been holding a while, slowly and soothingly. My English teacher would not have been impressed with the grammar and spelling displayed in the electronic communication, but I reminded myself that this way was much quicker and that I had much more important things to worry about than grammar.
‘how old r u?’ I asked quickly.
‘y shud i answer if u told me nothing?’
‘older than me? a lot older right?’
‘well that’s rude!!!’
‘u could’ve escaped yrs ago but nobody remembers u’
‘ur scaring me’
‘u never told me the whole truth – birdie!’
There was a long pause in the messaging after that. I wasn’t sure if I had hit the nail on the head or if I was completely wrong and had both scared and insulted Ace. Then, my phone started ringing – singing Star Wars – and I picked it up and pulled it to my hot ear.
“Ace?” I questioned the little object nervously.
“You’re incredible, Daphne,” she said; only she said it in French.
“Thank you,” I answered in English, feeling a slight prickle of nausea approach as I thought of her voice. How had I not known it when she spoke to me in English?
“I am much older than you, yes. I am no criminal... My so-called crime is that I came here with Jacqueline all those years ago. I wasn’t meant to come - I was only a child, even in my planet’s years – but I was so desperate to come! Jacqueline and I stayed in the same camp... She was horrible and so stuck-up – never did like her much even as a kid. Anyways, I liked it here every bit as much as she did. There were a number of us who did. Everything was wonderful, until Akia and his brother came to the village.”
“You were there when it happened?”
“Of course I was... Well, I was a little more than just present...”
“What do you mean, Ace?” I queried her gently.
“Look, Jacqueline is many things – brave, clever, determined, and proud – but powerful is not one of them. She didn’t know how to harness the natural powers within her here on Earth. On our planet, it’s a different matter. Everyone can master such things easily... Here, you have to find them, and for those who are weaker, it is practically impossible to generate enough energy to source these powers, let alone make use of them.”
“But then how did she change her appearance?”
“She didn’t,” Ace replied.
“Though she’d love to brag about what a good job she made of it, it was I – a mere child – who transformed her. She wouldn’t tell anyone the truth about me, about how strong and capable I was, for shame. I was her servant-girl on Earth and was forever in her shadow – even more so when she became beautiful.”
There was a moment of silence, and then she spoke again.
“No one knew about me... No one, until one day I confided in a human being.”
I held my breath, my mind racing. I heard her sniff. I think Ace was crying; her voice was all quivery and squeaky and she kept sniffing, but I did not dare interrupt her slurred words.
“Jacqueline told me it was the ultimate betrayal. She sacked me and left me to fend for myself while she tried to impress Akia, but even though he didn’t know the truth, he was sorry for me and knew that I had always been a faithful serving girl. He couldn’t comprehend Jacqueline’s change. I asked him if he loved her and he said that she was very fair but he thought it was cruel of her to dismiss me. I didn’t want to betray her further, for fear of some worse punishment, so I told him that I had been disloyal and that she was a fine mistress and that he should, as you would say, ask her out. He listened to me, and of course Jacqueline thought it was her looks that had done it. She never knew it was me. They were never truly happy together. Jacqueline realised that she didn’t love him after all and Akia had certainly never loved her. She demanded that I turn her back as she wanted him to forget her, but I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. Make him forget me, she told me. No ifs or buts to it, I want him to forget that I ever existed.
“I worked a long time on harnessing enough power to do that. The human that I had confided in was my only support in that trying time. Finally, I was ready. I drained myself of so much energy that day, and the whole sky blackened even though it was not long after noon. The trees bowed down to fearsome winds and a tropical depression started but I did not stop. I thought only of Akia and Jacqueline. Make him forget her, I thought. Make it like she never walked the Earth. That is exactly what happened. Every year for periods she could make new friends and court new fellows, but after a few weeks or months they would forget her or she would become invisible, and she’d move on to new lands and new people and new lovers. The problem was that Akia never completely forgot her. My works had left a trace and though he did not have the sight which you have, he could remember her. This trace had its awful symptoms – longing for that which he could not have, which he could not see, which he was doomed to never see again, and immunity. He was immune to any illness, and as Ambrose was in that area as well, the same happened to him. Neither could die unless they were murdered, and they would never age and never lose interest in Jacqueline. You know all too well what’s become of her.”
“So, you’re here because you caused all this?” I asked in disbelief.
“They don’t know that, Daphne. In my entire life, and I’ve lived for many centuries now, I have only ever told to people. I am here because I am one of them,” Ace whispered.
“What do you mean ‘one of them’?”
“My powers are very strong, Daphne. They grow stronger all the time, but still I cannot undo what I have done. This all has an effect on me to. I am one of the people that only the likes of you or Jacqueline or Ambrose or Akia can see. I am one of the ‘unseen’, as we are known. Another awful side-effect is that my powers have begun to leak, so now everywhere I go I leave a mark – even here. Even on you, all the way in your cell, I have left a mark.”
“But, Ace, what does that mean?” I asked, thinking of my straightening, darkening hair and how I never seemed to feel cold anymore.
“It means that you are becoming one of us.”
“One of the unseen?!” I almost shrieked.
“I am sorry, Daphne, but it’s most likely to have started happening already. Soon, you will no longer look like yourself at all. I am not even sure that you will look human – most likely you will look like a human of my powers’ devise.”
“Like Jacqueline?” I gasped.
“Yes,” she sniffed sadly.
“But, Ace, does that mean that no one will remember me when I get home – if I get home?”
“Oh, you will get home, Daphne. I’ve got it all planned out. I will tell you soon, but yes it is very possible that you will not be remembered.”
“What about Roberto? I gave him the sight, didn’t I?” I cried desperately.
“Indeed you did, but nothing is permanent or certain, Daphne. Now that my powers are leaking, we can be sure of nothing anymore.”
“But he will remember me, he has to!”
“I don’t know, Daphne. I’m sorry. I wish that I could help.”
“You’re the bird aren’t you, Ace? You use your powers to transform into the delivery bird and run errands for Ambrose all day, don’t you?”
“Yes, and speak in French while I’m about it.” She paused.
“What?”
“I have a letter for you. Meant to fly over yesterday but Ambrose was watching me like a hawk...”
“Another letter for me?”
“Yes, and I hope that if the sender has forgotten you, it will be able to jog his memory when next you meet,” Ace, the mystical fowl and prisoner said.
“You said we were going to escape. How?” I asked croakily, my voice-box hurting again.
“I can’t tell you now, but I will as soon as I can,” Ace said soothingly.
“Don’t worry, Daphne. Even if you are becoming one of the unseen, it’s all going to be fine.”
“How can it? The only person that I was ever able to confide in will probably have forgotten that I even exist by the time I get back home.”
I felt myself overcome with emotions, my head felt heavy and tears began to slide down my face. Ace’s breathing could be heard on the other end of the line; jerky and tearful too. Then the line went dead. I saw Ace arrive, in bird-form, outside my window with the letter and then it landed in my hand. I curled up with it pulled tightly against my chest like a comforting teddy-bear and sobbed painfully. My throat felt like it was on fire and my vision was too blurred from tears to make out much of my dark surroundings.
Sometimes I wished I was alone but sometimes I would give anything to know that I was not, to know that someone out there remembered me and cared. Unlike in children’s fairytales though, often your wishes are not granted.
(5636 Words)
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