Worlds Colliding

rooted grounds and foundations

decided / adjective

(of a quality) definite; unquestionable.

She picks up her bag and roams around in it until she finds a small object in her hand, an old, falling apart book with a black bird on it. The dark silhouette forever imprinted in her mind. Her fingers slide gently against the faded out green cover as she closes her eyes, her energy picking the page. It leads to the same poem again, but only one part grabs her attention.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.*

No, no mortal has ever ventured so far with their dreams as I have, but then again, I was not a mere mortal, a flesh of their flesh. I could be killed, yet my dreams and energy always soar far, right until they reach the purpose, a goal that I share with all of my kin.

Until the raven is nevermore.

Something in my mind snaps and I manage to jump back to reality. Mmm, let's finish with these dark themes, for now. The past week has been stressful enough, filled with way too many unwelcome surprises.

Currently, I'm in the park, sitting on a bench; bare feet, cross-legged, expensive heels laying somewhere on the ground. I wiggle my toes and shift my body a bit, eyes wandering to an impressive pond in front of me, enjoying the sun on my bare arms and face. It feels good to finally rest, leaving the unnecessary tension behind; feeling the world around me and the atoms swirling. As if lazy bees drunk on the sun and drops of nectar; blissful moments, almost sensual in their heated core. 

Suddenly I sigh frustrated because regrettably, the idyllic peace doesn't last as long as I would want it to, a dark shadow shielding the sun, a true mountain man. My gaze shifts and wanders up to him.

Did you get them?

He hands me a paper bag with some coffee and bagels while the other hand holds a pair of ordinary-looking red sneakers. He holds them by the pristine white shoelaces; as if the object that he was touching was strangely repelling to him. My eyebrows lift as I grab on to everything.

They're just shoes, Ramsey. Straight from the store.

I got odd stares at the cash register.

His face scrunches up as he stands there, covering the scenery. At almost 6′4, and impressive body weight, he was easily feared off. I liked that about him, he didn't let others waste his time, a thing that we got in common.

But you survived, now sit down, you're blocking the light.

He moves to the other side of the bench and as he sits, the wood under him creaks and moans. My body slides unwillingly his way, and I silently wonder if the steel on the sides might bend. Thankfully, it stays in place, so I let myself relax again.

Boss?

My head shifts slightly as the feeling of vitamin D slowly soaking into my pores, plays with my senses.

Yes?

Is she trouble for us?

I put a hand over my eyes and squint at him, there was no need to ask, knowing exactly who he meant.

That's the million-dollar question, Ramsey. A question as to of yet, I still don't have an answer to. She's definitely not normal, with all the abilities that she seems to have and that still lie under the surface, not discovered but that want to get out. Desperately. The energy that she produces is remarkable, the current and sparks flying wherever she goes, trouble appearing to follow her every tiny step. It's both fascinating and potentially very dangerous.