The Stray

Chapter Three

"Well, while you guys have your... Um, moment, I'm gonna go upstairs. Bye." I proclaim, not looking at them directly.

I slowly step away from them and run up the stairs towards the top floor, which was all mine, and closed the door with a bang. Then, I open my window and stare down at the bottom. Being five stories high doesn't scare me at all. So I jumped down, hearing the wind whistle in my ears, as I land gracefully on the grass my left hand flattened to the soil, while I was in a squatting position.

Being a freak has its perks.

This time, I go towards my bike, which I had hoped was a motorcycle, but I knew Lannie would never buy me one. So I was stuck with this: a banged-up red bicycle which I only used when I deemed necessary. Dragging it along with me, I close my eyes, and concentrate on the voices that now echoed for attention. They were all like pieces of thread, enveloping me tightly, with each move I made.

I pick the weakest link, of which chanted endlessly, "Want what you dream, Open to believe, And seek one's scheme."

I feel everything rush away in a horrifying scream. I hold my breath knowing what's coming next.

The smell of rotting flesh and burning animals toxicate the area. My eyes tear up a bit, the foreboding smell of acid hangs in the air, before everything becomes faster.

Once the smell passes, I shout viciously, "For what's been written, For what is beginning, For what's to come, I see thee in thy's truest of forms!" Everything slows it's speed, and I can hear the sounds of people-things- talking in unheard languages. Opening my eyes, I smile and look at the tall buildings and hovering things that surround me.

No one sees me. For only those who are like me--strange, cat-like travelers--are able to know that i'm there. Watching.

To everyone else, I'm invisible.

Kinda sad that they can't see my beauty. Oh, what a girl like me can do.

I look about, and study the new fashions.

Pretty dull, actually.

Only white and black are worn in this time. I remember a person who looked like a priest, mentioning that God would punish you, if you didn't wear black or white. He preached that it would show how virtuous one is of their people. They're supposed superior race, that no one can behold. At least I'm thankful that they haven't enslaved another race. At least, not yet.

Seriously, who came up with that shit? I'm pretty sure, I'd be a better god than, whatever the hell they're all worshiping. I'm more of a goddess, anyways, just look upon my beauty, and kneel before me.

I walk down the pathway and look at the newsstand that showed the date on this, 'today' across the street. I un braid my hair as I read a few of the lines on the magazines that were meaningless. I realize that it's December 25, 3569.

Oh, how boring. I've been here already. Todays the day when I saw that murder of the president Mr.--ugh, I don't remember.

I look around to see someone in a hoodie, staring at me. Their eyes, bright green, bore into mine before they vanish into thin air. I smile genuinely, for the first time in three years.

I am not alone.