The Journey of a Goddess

Chapter One: The Worst Part About Being 12

Father believes that ballet is a ridiculous perfection. What he doesn't understand is that it's everything any God wants to be. Precise, sharp, and graceful. It's an art that we won't ever see. Mother on the other hand thinks it's wonderful, but she also doesn't want me to work myself dead. Which is a dumb worry, mainly because to be as great as she thinks I am, I might have to. I'm a music God, so I can also do things like play many instruments and sing. Singing something I keep to myself, along with my flute. Father hates that I do because 1.); he believes that a music God shouldn't hide the very thing that makes her one. And 2.) he thinks I'm way too damn good to hide something like that from the world. But I'm not like Reginald or Marceius. They're stars in this world. Some humans don't even know they're Gods. But I have to be something other than if I want to prove I'm nothing like what I was born from. So when I turned four, my mother signed me up for a dance class in Europe, and I've been doing that ever since. But Father thinks there's much more in the world for me. He says that Europe isn't the home for talent. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't convince my mother to take me to the Americas. To Ardoni homes, the Americas are nothing but a fairy tale. It is across an ocean after all. Some parents call it heaven and some call it hell. All I know is that it's bad enough for my mother to ban me from going there.

School isn't any better. I'm well liked, which is nice enough as it is. But it's like a different language is splattered on pieces of paper. The only thing anyone ever says is if the human kids can learn it, so can I. But that's never any help. We have different minds, different hearts, different...everything. Why on earth would we be compared to each other? But I digress. Last month was the first day of the new school year, other than my first of kindergarten, or my first ballet class or music lesson, it's the time of year that gives my father panic attacks. He doesn't always love letting me be independent, but Mum grounds him at least a little bit.

Sometimes I hear my uncles speaking poorly in public schools, especially the one I go to. Now I see why, I suppose. My school is mostly humans and humans can be as judgy as Sendarian grandmas if they choose to be. When I first got there, everyone looked at me like I was one the apes from those science movies, now they just treat me like a zoo animal lthey can gawk at or a complete outsider. And worst of all, I'm not the only one that suffers such a fate. Mother told me there's about 60 Ardoni in the entire school, funny that I've never met any of them. One day, I was in the bathroom by the cafeteria (which is disgusting by the way) fixing my split bangs (the weather inside my school is so humid it makes thin hair frizzy) when two girls came in being very very loud. On any other day I'd ignore them, but they were way more interested in me then I was in them. "Hey, you're that new girl aren't you?" one of them said. She had really curly hair and was one of those valley girls that everyone talks about. "No, I've been here for a month or so." I know that's still a bit new, but the last thing I wanted to do was agree with them. They both laughed even though I wasn't at all amused. "You're funny, new girl," the first one said. "You going to the track meet tonight?" Humans care a little too much about sports. Or maybe I don't care enough. "No."
"What? Why? Boys'll be there." for some reason they thought boys would be a good enough bribe. The boys here are mostly okay, but when they're not they're terrible. Last week I saw some human boy named Daniel McCain shoved pixie dust up his nose. Just, ugh. "I don't care." no matter how many times I tried to be direct, they didn't get the hint. "Just try it out for once. You're always alone." on any other day I would have left, but they had a point. I am always alone. Not because I want to be, but because it's way too hard to make friends in this world. Being in a completely different hemisphere makes it worse. But who am I to complain? My family's been through worse. With a huge sigh, I gave in. "fine." I said. "I'll go." Later I found out their names were Rebbecca and Kylie, known troublemakers, and certified failures when it came to academics. But it's whatever.
When I showed up to the game or meet or whatever, I couldn't find Rebbecca or Kylie, when I did, they were flirting with some 8th grader and completely shunned me. They only brought me so they could say they did. It was so annoying. For the entire 3-hour meet, I was leaning against the wire fence, hoping they give up on that boy and come talk to me. When I rolled my eyes, they landed on something strange, a Voltarian boy walking by. Even though it's the 21st century, and no Ardoni is really keen on being prejudiced towards the Voltaris anymore, they had been a country practicing isolationism since my father was alive. So, seeing a Voltaris, especially a child was really weird. The boy had a 50s haircut, was dressed like JD from the Heathers but without the trenchcoat, and had a huge scar under his ear near his jaw. I hadn't noticed how long I was staring at him until our eyes met, but it wasn't for long before Kylie grabbed my shoulders from behind, startling me enough to turn around and yelp. "Zari! C'mon, I want you to meet someone." I don't know how she learned my nickname. "Oh- Okay," that boy they were speaking to was a complete mess. He was acting older than he was and thought we were a bunch of toddlers because we're one year younger than him. The only thing I could think about during that whole conversation was the Voltarian boy I saw. He doesn't go to our school, obviously, so my mind was trying to figure out what he could have been doing there.

When I got home, I slumped down next to my mother who was sewing something that belonged to Father. "That was a long day you had, wasn't it." oh yeah, I forgot my mum knows everything. Being the Goddess of Knowledge must be some kind of burden. "I hate middle school." I sighed. Mother giggled under her breath. "Why can't I go to an Ataraxian school like any other Ardoni?"
"Your father doesn't want to shove you into his past." I scoffed. Father's past is a heavy one, but I never get to hear about it. Just then I remembered the Voltarian boy I saw, Mum knows everything. Surely she'd tell me, right? "Who was that Voltarian boy?" I asked. All she did was smile at me. Those annoying smiles that say she wants me to figure that out myself. Wrong. My mother's no help. "I do not have to say everything I know, darling." I love Mum, but she's wrong. She should.

Later that night, I could barely sleep. The only thing I could think of was that boy. To rid myself of this mystery I tried sketching what he looked like- or what I recalled. Now that I'm saying this it sounds creepy. But if I was obsessed, you all would know. Just saying.