View from a Stand Keeper(A Star Trek Side Story)

View from a Stand Keeper( A Star Trek Side Story)

She always appears at same time of day at exactly 11:50 a.m. She doesn't say much, not like I expect her too. I've heard Vulcans were really to themselves, but something about her doesn't fit the bill. 

Pointy ears? Check.  

Diagonal eyebrows? Check.  

Dark hair? Also check.  

The only thing that doesn't seem right is her voice whenever she does make a sound. It's scratchy, like she has a sore throat. It changes pitch constantly, like when she came by and someone asked her about a certain physics theory. When she spoke to the kid, her voice would fluctuate. While in a soft volume, its pitch changed when she said certain letters. It was like a radio searching for frequencies. It started to make my ears hurt after a while, after struggling for quite a bit, she apologized and silently left the stand.  

She didn't appear for a couple days and I became worried. Where did my little spectator go? Even though I didn't know her, I was used to her brooding around the stand. Seeing her there became almost a routine. I was planning on closing early to search for her, but I didn't have too. She walked smoothly over to the stack of books that I had on display. I sighed silently in relief, well not silent enough because her head perked up and she looked over at me.  

She couldn't have been any more than eighteen. Her once long hair was chopped off into a poorly executed crop cut and had thin strands of hair standing every which way. Her dark eyes softly glowed with curiosity, studying me. Then that glow dulled and was replaced with exhaustion and sorrow as she turned back to the books. While her face was completely blank, I could tell that something was bothering her. I watched as her long thin hands gently ran over the leather cover of an old journal. Her head tilted ever so slightly as she held the journal in her hands and studied it.  

She walked over to me."How much for this journal?" She said softly, her pitch hiking up on the last two words.  

"About 10.50, you interested in buying it?" I replied sitting down on the wooden stool behind the table.

She nodded and pulled out a twenty. I took the bill, gave her the change left behind and held it out in front of her. She seemed hesitant to take the money from my hand but eventually she took the change in one swift motion. As she carefully folded the bill with the coins inside, I noticed the end of a line of fresh stitches on the back of one of her hands.  

"Hey, did you hurt yourself?" The words flew out of my mouth automatically and I clamped my hand over my mouth. Stupid! You don't just ask that out of the blue when it's obviously none of your business. Her head tilted up to face me, lines of uneasiness formed at the ends of her eyes as her right eyebrow arched in skepticism.  

"I apologize miss that was uncalled for. It's none of my business I shouldn't have asked." I said and gave the journal to her.  

She blinked and tilted her head slightly. "Then for what purpose did you question me?" Her pitch rose and fell again as she spoke.  

I laughed nervously, Lord what did I get myself into. She's actually talking; this is a bit of a shock.  

"I don't always think before I speak, it's a bad habit that needs fixing." I said nervously.  

Her eyebrow rose even higher."Seems illogical to develop such a habit, have you attempted to eliminate it in the past?"  

"N-no miss I haven't unfortunately."  

"I sincerely suggest you develop a way of controlling that habit." She responded in a voice that had a slight hint of frost in it. She tugged on her sleeves and slipped away into the crowd.  

I didn't see her for two weeks after that.  

"Did you hear about the vulcan girl who went bat-shit crazy?"  

"I did! What do you think made her snap?" 

"I heard it was something about Vulcan blowing up last Saturday that pushed her over the edge." 

"Well is she dead? What happened to her?" 

"I heard she ran off into the forest the night after Vulcan blew up."

I couldn't believe it; I didn't want to believe it. She couldn't have gone crazy. Her apartment was being searched, just across from my stand. I walked over to see what was being cleaned out by the officers. Books, Stray papers, some articles of clothing, and the journal that she had bought just two weeks ago were carried out of the building. It tumbled off of the pile of books as they stacked all of the books into the cart. I picked up the journal; it looked like it had never been used. The cover didn't have any blemishes. I opened the cover and saw something scrawled in the cover. Being that it was written in her native language, I couldn't read it. I flipped through the pages, each covered in black ink on the front and back. I reached the back cover and saw something written on the inner cover. It was in English, but was obviously written in a hurry.  

"It is gone. My home, destroyed. I am losing control of myself; I can feel it slipping away." 

I exhaled a breath that I didn't know I was holding and continued to read.  

"I cannot lose control, I cannot.  

It is highly illogical.......is it? I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew I knew .... 

I  

. 

. 

. 

FUCKING 

. 

. 

KNEW!!!!"  

That last sentence made me jump. Just imagining her blank porcelain face twisted in rage and sadness. Just picturing tears streaming from her dark eyes down her thin cheeks, it broke my heart. What did she mean by her knowing?  

Did she know that her world would be destroyed?  

I went to one of my buddy's house for him to translate her journal. He looked at me over his glasses with a look that said "You must be crazy if you want me to translate this all in one day." It cost me two bottles of vodka, a bottle of scotch, and five shot glasses, but I was able to convince him to translate it.  

I don't remember all of what was in that journal, but I do remember it saying that she had been having nightmares. While surreal, they showed the destruction of Vulcan. She constantly denied it in her journal, saying it was complete nonsense. She went on to say that she had been carrying a phaser on her at all times. She had been becoming paranoid and doubtful about herself. I remember the chill that went down my spine when I figured out that she was planning to kill herself if she lost control. She had been going by an alias while she was on earth.

She never mentioned her actual name, but she said that alias over and over, saying that she was sick of that name but she couldn't let it go. 

I know her now as Cassie.