Animals, Humans, Gods and Demon kingdoms. Worlds where none are supposed to meet...but they did. The animal and human world were turned into a big mess. The demons and gods were destroyed. Or so the story goes. But what happens if you happen to be...
WRITER'S NOTE: hello everyone! this next section has no blood or anything in it! i hope everyone is doing well and staying safe!
- cehilmot
"Alluro. I don't really need you to make clothes for me. We can just drop by home and pick out something to wear." I complain.
No response. She just continues to measure me with her tape measure.
"Okay, well if you want to do this then you need to answer my questions."
Still no response. Just cuts out the fabric. How did she manage to carry only one fabric roll up but end up with four different types of fabric? Beats me.
"Why are you making me clothes?"
No response.
"What are you thinking about?"
No response.
"What's your favourite colour?"
No response...just keeps cutting.
"What are your dreams?"
No response just at the sewing machine.
Is she ignoring me? Or is she deaf? God, this sucks so bad. I hate it when she ignores me. It feels like the only person who really understands me just shuts me out of her world. It hurts. I hate it. It's too quiet, like when I'm home alone and I can hear everything. It's scary. Whatever. I'll just keep asking annoying questions until she answers. I know...
"Alluro! Why did you come find me when I went with those people to that warehouse? You know, when I was taken from the street by some animals. I'm not important to you. You clearly don't want me to know much about you, so I guess, I'm not important."
Nothing. She just proceeded to undress me and redress me and undress me again when something didn't fit well. She dashed off to her wardrobe. It was...clean, a little.
She has so many nice pieces of clothing...never mind it's all cut up. Who in the stable mind of Rayloss, cuts up clothing?
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"Alluro? Why are all your clothes cut up?"
Nothing. This is really annoying me. I don't care about her making clothes for me anymore. She is ignoring me. I'm not attention seeking, I just...just want to know her. Understand her. Help her.
"Why aren't you answering my questions?" I pause, "If you won't talk to me, then I'll just ask you a question you will hate."
Why isn't she saying anything? By now, she would be angry or at least annoyed, but she doesn't seem to care. Why?
I take a deep breath, "What happened to your parents? You said that Bruce is your legal guardian. So, what happened to your biological parents?"
She stops. She stops searching for whatever it is she was looking for in her wardrobe. I can see her shoulder sag ever so slightly. Hardly noticeable. She takes inhales deeply and pulls out a box. She opens it to reveal a pair of black denim pants and a green leather jacket. She just stares at what's in her hands, like she remembers a sad memory because of it.
"I don't have to wear it if you don't want me to. Alluro?" I apologise.
She looks up slightly and hands them to me, "Put it on."
I take the clothes hesitantly as she returns to the sewing machine.
I think I hurt her. It wasn't my fault. She wasn't answering so there had to be a trigger word somewhere, I just probably used the wrong ones. They fit perfectly, like she made them for me. Why does she just casually have men's clothing around?
"How do they fit? Not too tight?" She asks distracted.
"They're fine. How did you get these?" I question.
"Nowhere," She says flatly, "If you wanted to know about me you could've just told me. You didn't have to ask questions like that."
I avoid her gaze as she looks up at me. "Here. Put this on. The shirt should fit better and so should this hoodie."
I change as she tidies up. I'm surprised. Seamstress, history geek, cop, mechanic, smart, rude, demanding, quiet, sharp tongued, great at emptying, has condoms in her room, keeps spare clothes in her car and claims to have no family. Don't think I missed anything. Jack of all trade, but master at none, maybe?
[-|| .'___'. ||-]
"I don't have answers to your questions. As for my parents, I don't know. My father left me when I was born. My mother married Bruce and then left when I was seven. Then he married Mary a few years later. Is that it?" She says unbothered.
I sit awkwardly in her car. I didn't expect her parents to do that to her. "Why did your mother leave?"
"Lujane?" She says sarcastically, "Why else do you think she left? Look at me, I'm not normal. Have you ever seen a fox with purple hair? No, I don't know why she left. She just did."
"And you're okay with that? With her just upping and leaving you in the care of Mr Kingsely? Surely you must miss her."
"No. Nothing. I feel nothing for her. Even if she suddenly appeared in my life I wouldn't care. She has nothing to do with me and I have nothing to do with her."
She's hiding something from me, I can feel it deep in my bones. "I would hate my mum for leaving me, but then again she's given up so much for me that I would forgive her. What of your father? Did your mum ever tell you about him?"
"Darius was wealthy and happened to screw my mother by accident. Lujane was filling in for her friend when they met. Love at first sight apparently, who knew? He knows about me. He just doesn't care. Darius probably gets letters from Lujane. It's a thing they do. They write letters to each other. I wrote one to him telling him that Lujane moved off. Not that he cared."
"Wow. That must suck. So, what's your father's last name?"
"I don't know. Why would I need one anyways?" She replies coldly covering up her pain.
We sit in silence as she drives through the suburban streets to the NineFive Racehouse. The long way, so she has time to answer my questions.
"Alluro? What did you mean by you don't know what your name is? Your name is Alluro. The name you're born with." I question hesitantly.
"Just because you call me Alluro doesn't mean it's my given name." A delayed response.
I wonder why she won't tell me her real name. "Hey–"
"If you could have any superpower, what would you have? That's what you were thinking. I would like to be able to make voices stop. I prefer the silence so all voices, internal and external. That is my answer."
What...just...happened? Is she...IS SHE?! No, she couldn't be. Those type of things don't exist. "You're telepathic?!"
She puts a finger to her lips. "You didn't hear anything from me."
She looks over and that's when I notice that there's pain in her eyes. It's so obvious. So much pain, but it's covered up by fear. They slope. They're tired. They have this shade in them. I don't know how to explain it. It's like she sees the world in black and white not full of colour. Maybe that's why she dresses in black and cuts up all the clothes in her wardrobe because she can't see the colours.
"Are they all of your questions?" She asks.
I nod. She turns the car around and drives down the street to the Racehouse.
