I wonder what will happen today. I hope Zach is in a better mood. I mean it was weird… Grace thought to herself. Adjusting her grey cardigan as she paused. Letting a couple of cars go before crossing. All of them were a bit off. Perhaps they just- Her thoughts cut off by the familiar shrill known as Ciera. Ciera seemed to be attracted to the quiet, detailed world Grace crafted. Something that was always a bit strange, as everyone else thought she was weird. For she spoke very little words to those she wished to have no interactions with. To this people labeled her as a snob
“Wait!” Ciera yelled, cursing at a car that had as much patience as she. “Grace James, I know that you can hear me!”
“You really don’t though.”
“You know, I bet if you stopped ignoring people, you’d be more popular.”
“There is no need for others though,” Grace turned towards Ciera with a mischievous smile “if you feel the need for others...” Pausing, turning around just as quickly as she had before. “-then please leave.” Quickening her pace, hoping that she’d lose the girl. Though her luck didn’t fair as well.
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
“And what is that?”
“You’re trying to keep them boys to yourself. Do you understand how many people would die to go on the adventures you go on?”
“Am not. And it’s not as fun as you make it sound.”
“Liar. I want to hear more. I don’t care if that means I follow you home today. My afternoon has seemingly cleared up suddenly.”
Grace would give a shake of her head, scowling at the ground. What she did wasn’t easy. It was supposed to be easy according to Mrs. Peplon, her English teacher. Her favorite teacher, who always supported Grace with her work. Advising when it was time to focus on something else. Or even helping the girl get out of a writer’s block. Even when Grace got annoyed with her constant nagging that writing isn't all the girl should learn to do. Insisting she at least try to talk to a couple of kids in her class. The girl always wondered back, creating a psuedo-family bond with the older teacher. “I can’t today. Not even if I wanted to. The boys…are keeping to themselves.”
“Aren’t you the author?”
“I suppose. Most of the time I just feel like a transcriber.”
“Seriously Grace?! You’re the author. You tell them that they need to spill.”
“Oh yeah, if I tried that I would just get even more frustrated. They are rebellious like that.” Thinking of the four boys. And how they had ended with explaining how things were working in 1915. Supposedly, that was the time they were from. A new era that required a bit of research to actually understand some of the terms they used. Pulling herself from her thoughts, Grace would look back up. “Spring break has just started. Give me a week?”
“As your unofficial editor I shall allow it. However, don’t give me excuses next time.”
“Alright, you’re taking the role a little bit too seriously. See you in a week Ciera.” Grace said as they reached the point where their paths split. Ciera adjusted her long raven hair, her eyes sparkling as the girl was still so oblivious. Not knowing that her life was about to tip out of balance. You and I will see each other again sooner than that. Just be safe until then. Ciera would turn to the side. Pulling out her pen, writing out the words: Door to Grimvail. To which she slipped silently through.
Grace shoved her headphones into her ears. Unaware of what was happening behind her. Playing soothing music to get into the right head space before she got home. An exercise she had been doing since grade-school. In a way, she was pleased that Ciera wasn’t like everyone else. Everyone else that she had come to trust believed she was a dreamer. It was just unfair that they refused to acknowledge that she might just be more creative than the others. No, Ciera never thought that way. Never invading her thoughts and trying to change who she was. She listened. In a world classified as listeners and tellers Ciera was no doubt a listener. Wait. What? Listeners or tellers. Ha, maybe they are right, and I am losing my mind. The girl stopped, concentrating as the wind picked up. Her blonde-silvery hair moving with the breeze. Feeling a shudder pass through her body, and the familiar scrawl of text passing through her mind.
Active Mind Engaged: Error 317
Grace let out an annoyed sound. Why could she never get what she wanted? You’re too passive. Show your authority. Otherwise nothing will ever change for you, dear Grace. Okay, Grace recognized that wasn’t her subconscious. No, it felt like someone tapped into her thoughts, instructing her on how to get over this. Shut up! Leave me alone! She snapped, opening her purple eyes. Thinking that it was an ugly eggplant color, and the cause to most of her problems in life. The first thing I am going to ask sensei to teach me next is how to keep my thoughts to myself. Then maybe I will actually get somewhere with this. She decided that it would be best if she just kept her thoughts silent. This way she could avoid getting a headache.
The girl’s home was located on the edge of the forest. A forest to which her parents had found youthful creativity while everyone else passed with a frightened expression. The previous owner had seemed to be quite pleased to be rid of it. Having found records that a family by a similar last name: Jemsa, had owned this property for around four hundred years. Records showing that it was usually the first child who got passed down this property. A thought that excited the young couple even more when finalizing their decision. Thinking they would continue this tradition with their own child. The one thing that had at least been true.
Though her parents would only give birth to one child, Grace. Having previously experienced two miscarriages before her birth. Causing them to become resentful because they had wanted to give birth to a male child first. Giving up that dream, they gave Grace everything she had ever wanted. Which was essentially nothing but pens and notebooks. At least until they felt her to be old enough to be trusted with a laptop. With her music and a way to transcribe her thoughts, the girl could go anywhere. Escaping the loneliness that covered the house like a thick fog.
Mr. and Mrs. James were hard-working business people. Neglecting their child, leaving her with their servants, saying that they couldn’t afford the luxuries of raising her themselves. Though everyone knew the reason. Not one servant wasn’t aware of what was going on. For every time Mr. and Mrs. James were on the property nothing was quiet. They screamed and yelled while Grace hid. Feeling herself to be a burden. Which is when one of the new nanny’s had introduced the girl to books. Teaching her to read and write. Saying that whenever she was sad Grace could use this as an escape. At least for a little while. Being an intelligent girl, Grace’s parents never worried about her grades. Or frankly anything that was going to happen to her in the future. A reason why the girl tended to keep to herself. No reason for other people to witness the discourse her estranged family was in. Grace tallied the days trying to figure out when they were going to tell her they were going through with a divorce. Thinking though Grace would still be allowed to live on the property as they had signed everything over to the young girl.
A thought that crossed her mind often is what magic enraptured people to stay in this town. Or even in this house for such a long time. The potential outside of Aurion was vast. Was one really living if they had decided in such a place as this? Such cramped and negative energy. Once Grace got the property, she’d hire a shaman to cleanse the area. Or perhaps she would learn how to do it herself. As in her spare time she trained to be a Priestess. Something that she had discovered when reading. Being intrigued by the magical air that they held. Relating themselves to what the pasts would call a “miko”. Apparently, some land that had existed much like hers in an area of the east. It was called Japan, a land where happy peaceful people lived. Though they had been destroyed before the Great Transformation, basically a global massacre. Eliminating the ones known as rebels and their believers.
Grace stopped and looked up at her house. It was moderate to her, being two stories high with a two-car garage attached. There was a smaller building nearby, housing an indoor pool as well as a tennis court. Behind the house was an outdoor pool. Medium sized hedges lined the drive way before being stopped by a black-iron gate. With a weird insignia in the middle that served as a lock: જેમ્સ. Though it only took a touch of her palm to command the giant gate to open. The maintenance of the lawn and garden was overlooked by the man she nicknamed Smudge. Smudge always had a smudge of dirt on his face. A look that she carried from childhood. Grace also liked to entertain the idea of him courting Shrill. Shrill was the head maid, who always seemed to carry an annoying shrill to her voice. Grace thought this was a reason her parents had chosen her. For her voice seemed more annoying than their constant bickering. The girl could never think of why everyone put more effort into this place than the shrine located in the forest a few feet in. A shrine that she had been told that she was prohibited from. Her purple eyes glanced over to the path, marked by a paved trail of stones, looking at the two Buddhist guardians stationed in-front of the stone steps leading to the torii gate. Grace remembered when they had first made their appearance.
She had been about seven-years old at the time. Decided that while everyone was busy with their chores she would sneak off. Going to the enchanting steps that always seemed to pull the girl forward with a magnetized force. Carefully, she made the ascent, there wasn’t anymore than seven steps. And everything had gone smoothly until her small hand touched the torii gate. A shock going through her tiny frame, flashes of images racing across her head. Though nothing made sense since she was so young. Before she could make anything of it, she was pulled back causing her to blink. “Young lady, you’re not supposed to be here.” From his voice, she could tell this was Smudge.“W-what was that-“ She asked, not recognizing her own voice.“You saw something?” Her younger self nodded, and Smudge grew serious. “Don’t tell anyone anything. You’ll just mess up the path of things.”“I won’t tell.” She murmured, too afraid of what his words meant. “Good, now be a good little girl and run along. I heard that Cook made fresh cookies this afternoon.” Smudge said, setting her down before disappearing. Something that always boggled her mind. Though the girl would say nothing, however she had never forgotten about that day. v
“Ah, Miss Grace you’re home. Perfect. They want to see you.” Smudge said, pulling her back to reality. They? Oh, he probably means her parents had returned home. Her smile changed into a soft frown. Now she would have to wait even longer to see them. For if her parents had come back that meant that today was the day. All that tallying over. “Your parents said to tell you the ceremony starts at dusk.” This was something she never understood. What the heck was this ceremony. Her parents had written a letter explaining it, but she really hadn’t cared. Tossing the letter in the waste bin before carrying about her day. If she remembered this was the day, they would have her take on the family business. However, since they had rejected her up until now then she felt like she had every right to dismiss this. “Of course, thank you.” Grace said, her voice tight as she nodded her head in acknowledgement. Hopefully the boys won’t be too cross about this. The thought crossing her head before she had time to think about it any further. Don’t be crazy now, these guys are only fictional. They don’t exist in my reality. Hopefully this inheritance doesn’t involve sitting in one of those cubicles all day. No, she couldn’t stand that. Grace entered the mansion silently. Scurrying up the marble steps before they could realize she had returned. Her parents were more like ghosts anyways. Ghosts that filled the halls with moans and pains. Thankfully she had gotten to her room before she was able to hear if the fighting had begun. Her room, the only room they didn’t enter. Her oasis, as it had books thrown about. The large windows surrounded by see through lace curtains. Throwing her bag on the floor, as she plopped down on her fluffy bed. This better be worth my time. Thinking crossly to herself before gazing out towards the open land.
