A Teaspoon Of Stardust

To Die A Noble

" From childhood's hour I have not been. As others were, I have not see. As others saw, I could not awaken. My heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved, I loved alone.

- Edgar Allan Poe

My first thought would have been that it was Evangeline that had just talked, when in fact the girl was neither my nightmare nor was she speaking to me.

Rebecca's figure was displayed like an old movie reel projected on the wooden walls that was the home of termites, and as the scenes clicked by, fuzzy and unclear like a memory fighting its way to the surface of your mind, I questioned just what exactly my old childhood friend was doing in the Clock Tower of a witch.

In all honesty, I did not expect her there. I did not care for her, really. But above all, I was confused. Here is what I knew: 1. Evangeline was showing me something of Rebecca, something that was now halted and frozen in picture. 2. This had to have been awhile ago, because Rebecca was wearing her heavy winter coat her mother had bought for her birthday. 3. Rebecca was not speaking to me when she asked whether I missed her, despite my initial observation.

A dreadful feeling filled the pit of my stomach, but remembering Marie's words - Prove her wrong - I clutched my belly and inched my way over to the wall where the invisible projector was shining it's light amongst the wall. I didn't only just want to look brave in front of her, but something was attracting me to it. I was like the other half of a magnet waiting desperately to be reunited and I couldn't quite figure out why.

As I drew closer to the wall, the light that danced in the air turned out to be not light at all, but tiny glimmers of misty water. Different colors were dyed into the miniscule dew drops, resembling so much the light that shoots through the atmosphere in the ceiling of a movie theatre; transparent, yet colorfully present. I reached my fingers out in a tremble of a touch, hovering over the suspicious substance to test it's reality. Was this even real?

The tip of my middle finger was the first to absorb the smallest of a feeling, and my hand recoiled immediately on contact. A blistery rage shot through the affected finger up into my hand and arm stinging everything along the way in one angry attack. I shrieked and sucked in a breath at the indescribable pain that a drop of colored water had caused and before I could do anything else, the picture on the wall began to move again.

This time, someone else was portrayed.

"I did, actually." Luke steps forward slowly.

Rebecca grins, and I feel my heart drop at her next words. "I'm glad you asked me Luke. Good you got whoever the last girl was out of your head."

Last girl? Luke has other girls? I panicked and felt my breathing quicken.

They stood in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke up awkwardly, shifting in his place.

"You're very pretty." Luke says quietly, referring to Rebecca who was standing in front of him, shivering in the cold March rain despite the obnoxious jacket she wore.

"Yes." She agrees and steps closer to him. It's the dead of night, and they stood in a damp parking lot somewhere. "You don't know what to say, do you?"

Luke stutters and clenched his fist. I almost smile at the habit I've memorized, but the situation in front of me begs me to squint my eyes and concentrate. "I don't know."

"Why are you here, anyway? Rumor has it you were after Murry. Though she wouldn't tell me herself." Bec- Rebecca mutters and kicks the heels of her ballerina flats together. Her makeup is running a bit in the corners of her eyes and her dark hair is soaked and stringy, falling in short pieces on her shoulders.