The Life in Our Heads | COMPLETED

Part 1

A scarecrow with a body of a skeleton had bones of straw bundles, and its head was that of a creepily grinning jack-o-lantern, as it clumsily staggered its way down the festive street. The creature was of such a colossal height, people swore that if the scarecrow had reached their lanky fingers towards the sky, it could graze the stratosphere. But the scarecrow was so fragile, the air could probably steal away one of its fingers. Following the intimidating and gangly being, another form of imagination paraded their way through the yelling and praising crowd.

Lions with the height of a light post, and a mane thick enough to dive into, roared louder than their audience. Elephants whose feet broke into the asphalt ground with their every step, as their floppy ears gusted the air, terrorized and banished any silence that dared to enter the parade. And giraffes that could climb above buildings with a lift of a leg, skipped four street blocks with only eight steps. They all gracefully glided down the road. The audience slowly backed away from the massive animals as their faces drooped with awe. A faint blue fog, of which the creatures were created from, followed the majestic animals.

Foot soldiers, costumed in red jackets decorated with golden frilly shoulder pads and white trousers, marched alongside the street curb with their matching black boots. The soldiers were flawlessly in sync to each other. The lead soldier blew their own whistle in a rhythmic beat to maintain an orderly pace. Because the foot soldiers could only reach the height of the street curb, the citizens had to knell down to truly admire how regal they all were.

Her spirit sang for the stunning forms of imaginations that strode past her longing eyes. Goosebumps covered her skin in delicate, yet rapid waves. Avail was a 'Watcher'. In this world, Watchers were the people who did not possess any form of creation capabilities. All they could do is simply watch the imaginations pass by. 'Manifestors', however, created the imaginations everyone witnessed, just like today. They were the ones that gave this world a life like no other.

"I'm so glad I was brought to this world. What's here is better than before." Avail was twirling with her friend, Fido, who was a fish created by a Manifestor. Any being that is created by a Manifestor are recognized as being 'manifested'.

Fido had rich and saturated royal blue skin. His skin was highlighted with irregular and nearly blinding yellow stripes, with a short triangular tailfin to match. And whenever the sunlight kissed his scales just right, a gleaming deep green and purple iridescent sheen would appear.

He swam in the air gleefully as Avail danced with the upbeat music of the parade, carelessly twirling her flaring dress. The two had been friends since Avail had arrived to this world, four years ago. Fido was the reason why she was there in the first place.

"Really? That's hard to believe honestly." Avail had another campion, who she met about a year after being in this world. His name was Cameron, and he was an unchanging pessimist.

Cameron's skin was of smooth ebony, complemented with dimly lit hazel spheres that were his eyes. Avail swore his eyes mimicked the flame of a candle. His hair was just as short as hers, never growing past his ear lobes. Except his locks were considerably looser, and his jet black curls wispily intermingled. He held a height of about 5'10, which could've appeared as a lot compared to Avail, whose height was maxed out at 5'3.

"What now, Cameron? What has you so down?" Avail asked, already used to his negative tendencies.

"We're Watchers. All we can do is stand and look. Stand and praise. Stand and worship! But that's boring, and incredibly unfulfilling. I want to manifest...just like them." Cameron's voice lowered into depression, as he turned his attention to a group of Manifestors that were creating tiny beings to entertain the younger children. This stopped Avail mid-step in her dance number.

"Cameron, you're not thinking of..."

"No, of course not. I'm not that desperate." He shook his head of taboo idea, like a dog out of water.

Even though this world is divided into two groups already, the Manifestors and Watchers, there are two more groups that are rarely mentioned, but still holds an infamous presence, nonetheless.

One of those groups are called 'Takers'. This group operates a foul business that sells Watchers the gift of creating. But the gift is merely a knock-off, and it comes with a great price. Unlike Manifestors, Watchers who unrightfully receive said gift must train that artificial ability to gain its devotion. But if the ability rejects its owner, it will take over their owner's imagination and create its own manifestations. Those creations are and always have been abominations. After such occurrence, those Watchers then become 'Takens', the second unmentioned group.

This occurrence has proven to be devastating time and time again; a Taken viciously over-running another Manifestor's land and their creations. This, in turn, pasted a terrifying name to what Manifestors are capable of.

"Cameron, please don't. That kind of power is horrifying! And if something happens..." Avail's heart clenched at the visual image of Cameron as a Taken.

"I know...I know but, I researched that if a Watcher is determined enough, they can control that ability. What if I..."

He stopped mid-sentence. Avail was glowering towards him, eyes darkened to nearly black. She had a death-stare that could reap an entire field of life.

"I'm sorry. Don't look at me like that." Cameron looked as if shame had drenched him. Guilt weighted his gaze towards the ground.

"Cameron, this will be our last time discussing this, so hear me," Avail stepped closer, to gain her friend's complete undivided attention. "Becoming a Taken, is just another way of selling your soul."

Cameron was stunned by her harshness. It was clear that he had never thought of it in that sense, but she was correct. Having your soul taken over, but still present in its person, is another way of handing off all rights to it.

Avail had continued walking down the sidewalk, ditching her paralyzed friend. Fido glumly swam in the mid-air, tailing her.

"You know; I just don't get it." Cameron had lagged behind Avail, still weary of facing her, but not weary enough to speak. "You are a Watcher, correct?" He had questioned something that he had known about her since the moment they met.

"Mmmhmm!" She hummed while toying with Fido as he floated in mid-air, flipping boisterously as if he were actually in water.

"Okay...then how in the world do you have a manifestation as a familiar? Only Manifestors have familiars." Cameron quizzed her, but Avail continued striding gleefully, unfazed.

"Well, I wouldn't deem Fido as my 'familiar'. He was abandoned, and decided to befriend me. Right, Fido?" He wiggled his tail fin, signaling a strong 'Yes'.

"That's a hell of a loop-hole. But if that's the case, how is he still, well...alive? Familiars can't live on without the constant imagination of their Manifestors." Cameron pressed, causing Avail to stop, sighing in frustration.

"Look, I don't know, okay? I've asked this little guy many, many, times if I'm a Manifestor. His answers seem to be a reminder of much I'm not a Manifestor." Avail returned to walking, letting Fido swim around her head sporadically.

"Still..."