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Letters to Emmy

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1/12/2011 15:52:05   
Terraminator
Member

Letters to Emmy


"Dear Emmy"


19th of Rosa, Snowfall

It’s cold in the forest; much colder than the place I come from. So cold it’s like ice. We rarely get ice in my homelands. We only get falling leaves and dew. Sometimes the little ones go out really early to chase the winged ones and lick up the morning water off the grass blades. It’s fun to watch, so I do. From my hut I see them running about, chasing each other, watching the sunrise up from the hills surrounding our village. It’s so warm there. When you live in such a place, it’s hard to get used to an area so chilly. One time, Mama told me it gets so cold up north that little white pebbles fall from the sky. I know she was right now, since I live up in the north, the ice regions. But she was also wrong in a way; they are not pebbles, they’re much too soft to be pebbles. I asked a man at the market what they were when I first came to this forest. For a moment he looked at me weird then said, “It’s snow!” Snow. But I still didn’t know what snow was. So I asked him. Another odd look I got from that man, but he still answered back. “Snow is rain that is frozen up in the sky. It falls down is little bits of the ice the raindrops formed. When the full ice comes down, it’s called hail.”

I wanted to know what hail looks like. I wished I did. Now I realize that was a mistake. My first hailstorm was terrible! Big, fist-sized balls of ice came shooting out of the sky. They hurt when they hit your head. After that, I promised myself never to wish for hail again. Even though it’s tough getting through winters here in the forest, it’s not all that bad. I made a few friends at the market. Their names are Cesia and Onyx. Cesia told me she came from the mountains. You can see the outlines of them through the snow and fog if you try really hard. When she asked me where I was from, I told her, “The Summer.” She just laughed at that. I don’t see why, though. That’s the first name I thought of…you see, my village has no name. We never needed one, because no one ever asked. Mostly because no one that left ever came back. Mama told me and Emmy it was because the big bad bears at the edge of the prairies got them, but we were never sure. For long nights we whispered about it. Emmy always thought it was because they found true love and went off together with their mates to never be seen again. Eugh. I told her it was because they were tired of the same old place, same old people, same old routine. So they left our place, in search of a new one where they could get a fresh start. Begin a new life. “Eugh!” she said to me, “That’s so not it! True love is what they left for!” I miss Emmy.

Onyx is from many places. She’s sort of like me, I guess. Her places have no names. But she remembers what they are. She came from a prairie once, and a desert and a jungle. And you know what she said? She told us there were elves in the jungles! And trolls in the deserts! Dwarves in the prairies! When she said that, both Cesia and me wanted to go so badly! Cesia wanted to know more about the trolls in the deserts. Onyx said they were colorful, green and purple and black. They are aggressive, they almost killed her. But she made a deal with them. She would trade some of her magical health potions if they would spare her life. Then Onyx smiled. “They weren’t really magic, you see. They were just cactus milk I brought on the way!” We all got a good laugh at that. She said she left before they found out. “I’m sure they were delighted when they discovered your secret, Onyx!” Cesia guffawed. She couldn’t stop laughing! I literally had to yell over her voice to get Onyx to hear me. “What about the elves?” The elves, she said, were the most beautiful creatures she had ever seen. Their hair was almost as colorful as the trolls’ stone-hard skin. Some had red-heads, some snow white, some chestnut colored, and some blond like mine. “They are very musical,” she told me. “The play the flute, lute, drums, and hums!” Onyx is good with rhymes. “Some of them are very kind, but others not so kind. One of them, oh, one of them is just terrible! She never stops complaining! She thinks the whole world loathes her! Her mother said her name is…hmm…Anisa! That’s it!” Her face took on an annoyed look. I could just imagine that girl. Even her name sounded frustrating. Onyx also said they lived among the Nymphs. Nymphs are beautiful, more beautiful than the elves. Or at least, that’s what Onyx told me. She said they live in air and water both, and can transform into creatures of the sea. They sound magnificent.

I loved hearing stories from the elders back at home. They told tales of adventure and myths about the stars and how Luna and Sola met to create our world. They told of our ancestors, the Valayng who roamed the land in fear of Garrak, who had slain the rest of man-kind and was searching for the Valayng so that they may be wiped from the face of our Ola. It was exciting to even be sitting in front of our Tellers. They were the wise ones, the eldest members of the village who knew all the secrets. Emmy and I always dreamt of becoming one when we got older. Now I guess I’ll never know if I will.

It was almost night after we’d finished hearing the story of Luna and Sola, and how they left Ola in search of a new world where violence was not in existence. If Ola did not fix its ways, then Luna and Sola would take another world and leave Ola defenseless. I’d heard it a thousand times before, but the way the Tellers spoke it gets you in a trance. I saw the hut in the distance. I was pretty sure I also saw Emmy sitting out on the first step of the entrance door. That’s when the hands flashed, masks appeared. And time slowed down as they pulled her off the steps, carried her down the street, and I ran to save her. What they wanted with her, nobody will know now. They died before anyone could ask. Before I could kill them myself. Because they took my Emmy from me, and I would never forgive anyone for that. So that’s why I left our place, me and Emmy’s. I travel through the prairies and deserts and jungles to the forest. I know I wanted to believe Onyx and her stories, but I know that tales are never truth. There are no trolls, no Nymphs, no elves, and no dwarves because they took my Emmy. Nothing can be truth without faith. My faith died long ago, the moment her life flashed out of her beautiful, beautiful emerald eyes. Her smooth face, her golden hair. When she feel into her last sleep is when my faith died. Mama told me to move on, so I did. Even though I couldn’t let my mind move forward, I let my body. Separated my body from hers, but not my mind. This is why I’m writing you this note, so that our minds can never separate, but our bodies can. When I finally sleep as you did, and I let my mind and body go, we can finally be together. Heart, and mind, and body, and soul. Finally.



Together.



< Message edited by xFiaannax -- 1/12/2011 18:00:14 >
DF MQ  Post #: 1
1/12/2011 17:53:59   
Terraminator
Member

"Goodnight"


14th of Loivia, Summer

It’s been a while since I left home, and this is my second letter to you. I don’t know how to write one really, so this is the best you’ll get. I try to get Cesia to teach me, but she always says she’s busy. I know she’s not because whenever I ask where she is, they tell me she’s with some boy. It makes me frustrated when she ignores me, but I don’t mind most of the time. Onyx teaches me sometimes, but she says I won’t listen. She says I’m too hard to teach, so she makes excuses to leave. When I can’t play with them, or learn, I like to sit up in the trees and watch the animals that live there. Sometimes I go up to the hill in the summer and write in a journal I made from bark and oak leaves. And sometimes, I write letters to you. Lately, I’ve been busy working for a man named John at the market, and helping carry water to the well. Remember how I told you about the cold and the hail and the snow? Well it’s the opposite of all that in the summer time. The heat beats down on you then, and it’s even harder to do work. That’s why I like fall and spring best. They’re in between seasons.

There’s an old lady that lives by us, and she gives all the little children a scare. You see, she hasn’t been seen outside her little cottage in decades they say. Some stories the elders tell us to frighten us say that she eats boys and girls for breakfast. I pretend not to be scared, but I really am. She lives so close…what if she eats me for breakfast, Emmy? That reminds me of the story Mama once told us. Do you remember it? It was about the two twins that went into the forest to find berries, but instead they found a house made of candy and sweets! They were foolish and went inside when their parents told them not to, for a witch who ate children lived there! They fooled her, though, and cooked her instead, when she fattened up the brother to eat him, and made the sister work in the kitchen. If I found a candy house, Emmy, I would be smart enough not to go inside. I know you would too.

Yesterday John got a shipment of fish we had to put in buckets. This made me think of Mama, because I know how much she loves fish. It was bass I think, and John let us eat one afterward. I told him I wanted to learn to fish someday, so he said he’ll take me soon. He gave me a fishing rod and said that’s used to catch the things. I figure he’s just telling me all this stuff to trick me into thinking he’ll really teach me, but he’s actually “busy” and won’t be able to. I hate when people lie to me, Emmy. I wish you were here because I know you’d never lie.

Onyx told me a story during my break today. It was the evening time, so the fire-bugs and mosquitoes were buzzing around me and Cesia’s heads while we listened. Onyx told us a story about a beautiful white rose that grew by a waterfall, long ago. She said this rose had the most pure petals of any flower, and whoever ground those petals up in their tea would become immortal. But no one wanted to find that flower, for the forest surrounding it was full of monsters and poisonous thorns that would kill a man as soon as he touched them. So, many people spoke of the flower, but none were brave enough to search for it. This went on for a long time, until Nyla the great journeyed there and sought out the enchanted flower. When he took it in his tea and drank it, a bright light surrounded his skin, and he was sent to the Gods to drink and eat and feast with them forever. It was a nice story, but Cesia didn’t like it. She’s like you, Emmy. She thought he should have fallen in love.

“Why did he not share the rose with others,” she asked, “Wasn’t it a greedy thing to do? Keep the flower for himself and live forever?” I told her it was the fact that he was brave and courageous enough to travel to it that made him worthy. “But how come he didn’t die, like any other man would? And why is his name sound girly?” Cesia annoys me sometimes, Emmy. She never wants to stop complaining, and her questions remain unanswered even when we answer them. Onyx hushed her and brought us back home because it was getting darker out. She brought Cesia home first, then walked back with me. We both went to our room and she tucked me in. I like when she does that because it reminds me of home.

Do you remember what day it is soon? It’s going to be my birthday, and I will be a year older. That means you are now ten years of age, right? I remember your last birthday that I went to. I remember the day you were born, and I stood beside Mama’s bed. It was a hard thing to watch, but she looked happy when she held you. She let me hold you too. Our father wasn’t there, he left a couple days before you were born, so you wouldn’t know his face. I do though, but I don’t remember it as a kind, loving one like I should. It was hard, like a rock, and cold. His eyes were green like mine, but his hair was like yours. You had his dimples, Emmy. I only saw him smile once, I think. But I remember them being there, and I saw them on your face whenever I saw you. You were always smiling. Thinking of you makes me cry sometimes…

Now I should go, because it’s almost midnight and I hear people walking outside my door. I promise to write to you again as soon as I can. Until then, I’ll keep my promise I made to you before they took you away. Goodnight, Emmy.


< Message edited by xFiaannax -- 1/12/2011 18:00:48 >
DF MQ  Post #: 2
Page:   [1]
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