Beneath The Waves

(15) All The World's A Stage

Chapter 15

The souls of humans sustain Sirens, as the life force is rich in energy and, if extracted from a human who has low levels of hope or happiness, it is cool enough for Sirens to consume. Sirens are cold-blooded creatures, and cannot cope with high amounts of heat, either from the sun or their food sources. They keep their victims locked in prisons in charmed caves or islands...

Frankie sighed, closing the book and staring across at the sterile white wall of the hospital. She’d read the same passage hundreds of times, in different books and on different pages, and even though they were never phrased quite the same way, they all said the same thing. She wasn’t getting anymore answers.

“Fire,” she mumbled to herself. “Would fire work?”

Mike’s life support machine gave a soft bleep, like it often did. Frankie ignored it, but set down her book to go over to her brother.

“You wouldn’t believe the crazy stuff I found out this week,” she told him softly, brushing back his hair. “Or maybe you would. You never had trouble believing that kind of stuff.”

Mike had never been as book-crazy as Frankie or her mother, but he’d always enjoyed it when either one of them told him stories. He would listen in quiet awe, if it was a good one with plenty of action, his big blue eyes round with eagerness. He especially liked the ones Frankie made up for him, even though they often had elements of horror in them, which sometimes freaked them out. When he was younger, he used to get nightmares, but he never wanted the stories to stop.

“I wish I could tell you a story now,” Frankie murmured sadly. “I feel like my imagination’s packed up and gone to Vegas. Wonder if it’s having fun?” She gave her bracelet a soft tug, and it jingled quietly. “Maybe I’ll tell you about real life instead. My friend Ryan’s really nice. I think he’d like you.” She’d never seen Ryan around kids, but she had a feeling he was good with them, like he was with most people.

She gave her brother’s hand a soft squeeze. “Maybe you’d like a poem instead?” she said softly, wishing she could do more for him. She knew a poem wasn’t really what he’d want – he’d want to run around outside, kick a football about, soak up the sunshine, see his friends. He wouldn’t want to hear poems in this quiet, white-washed, sterile room.

But it was all she could give him. She patted his hand and began to recite softly. “All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts...”

As usual, Mike didn’t respond to her poetry, but she liked to think it calmed him, just as it had before. She carried on reciting quietly, messing up a few of the lines but making up a couple of words to make it fit, until the door squeaked open.

“Then a soldier, full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard... Uh.” She broke off and smiled at the pretty nurse that came in. “Hi.”

“Don’t stop, lass. I do love poetry. Shakespeare, isn’t it?” The nurse smiled back widely, her glossy red lips stretching.

Frankie smiled and nodded, reading a little of the energy bubbling off the woman. It reminded her of candyfloss; pink, fluffy and sweet. Her future was a bright one.

“Mike’s your brother, isn’t he?” the nurse checked, plumping his pillows a little as she checked his monitor.

“That’s right.” The nurse was engaged, and a glittering diamond ring winked from her finger. Her wedding would be in a couple of months, an outdoor one, and the sun would shine and everything would run smoothly...