“Only those who attempt the absurd will achieve the impossible. I think it’s in my basement…let me go upstairs and check. – M.C. Escher
Printed on an extra-large laminated poster, the quote is the center-piece of her bedroom. It’s the first thing she sees when she wakes up in the morning and the last thing she stares at in bed at night. “The first part describes me so well, don’t you think? The latter’s just gibberish.” She will tell anyone who would listen.
She is special, gifted with a power that if anyone got a taste, they will immediately become so envious they’d turn green. For now, only I know about it. Not for long though. Tomorrow is her eighteenth birthday.
Standing on the branch of the tree outside her bedroom, I watch her go to bed smiling with the faintest idea of what is awaiting for her. I grin and whisper, “Sleep for now, my darling for tomorrow is the start of a new chapter.”
At 7:00, a tune begins blaring from the radio. She sits up and stretches. There’s a knock on the door. “Happy birthday, sweetie,” her mother enters the room with a wide smile and a plate – on the plate is a muffin. She gazes at the muffin disappointingly. “Don’t worry, there’s a cake.” She arches her brow, “Tonight, I promise. For now, you finish your muffin and head to school.”
“Thanks, mom.” She thanks her mother with a smile and a hug.
Outside the window, I wait patiently for the first sign will present itself very soon.
As her mother leaves the room, she places the plate on the nightstand, gives the quote a quick glance before getting out of bed. “Happy Birthday to me.” She mutters as she picks up the plate.
Outside, something is happening. I can feel it. It’s here.
In the bedroom, she grips the comforter tight as her head feels like it’s about to split open. The plate in her hand shatters as it collides with the floor. She wants to scream but no sound makes it out of her lips.
Outside, I close my eyes and wait for the image to come to my mind. An ox, a reaching hand, and marbles. I have never been more confused but signs are signs. They are nothing more than bits and pieces of a larger puzzle.
“Are you okay, honey?” Her mother rushes into the room and sees the shattered plate and muffin on the floor. “What happened?”
She shakes her head, “I don’t know. I think I feel a little sick.”
Her mother feels her head, “Are you sure? You don’t have a fever. Do you want to stay home today?”
She shakes her head, “No, I think a couple of aspirin and I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, if you feel worse, just call.” She nods.
I find her a few hours later in the reading room at the local library, she has skip her morning classes, probably trying to find out what happened this morning. A curious mind. He has chosen well. I sit down across from her. She doesn’t see me. No one does. I’m not meant to be seen until I am ready to be seen.
I shut my eyes, entering her mind, while searching in mine for where I have seen these signs before. Then it comes to me. Of course, why didn’t I think of this?
“I heard you’ve been looking for me.” I shout into the dark room. The signs have brought me to a mansion at the edge of the cemetery. This was once my home, when I was human. The ox, reaching hand, and marbles were a few of the paintings that used to hang the walls of this room in addition to the woman with the phonograph in her hand. “Very smart, giving a human girl psychic abilities just to lure me back. What are you trying to do? Trying to create another version of me?”
“Not another version, a better version.” A voice booms. “It is time for you to go and for her to step in.” I turn and find her standing not far behind me, a blank look on her face.
“What’s going on? You can’t do this. You can’t go back on your word. You can’t replace me. I did everything you asked.”
“That is true but you violated the deal when you went inside her head.”
Violent tornado-force wind blows the door open. She stands perfectly still while my feet are struggling to stay put. “You can’t do this,” I plead, “You can’t!”
A response for MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Writing Prompt