The Anima [completed]

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The future was dark, unknowable, and ever-present; the changing days a constant reminder that the passing of time was inevitable. It nibbled at my side, annoyingly, tauntingly, in the form of agonising growing pains. My limbs were long; my legs broad and strong, disproportionate to my under grown chest. The only reminder of my youth was stubborn cheek fat. But even that was dwarfed by my large feet, indicating I had more growth to look forward. I could not escape it. Yesterday I was seventeen, tomorrow I would be twenty one, the next week I would be forty, and in a year I would be dead from old age, the decaying of my vital organs.

My calloused hands clenched, finger nails digging into my palms as a reminder that I was still alive, that I was still young, with many years ahead of me.

But that could not be said for Lucas Young.

Although the posters around town served as a constant remind that he was 'MISSING, YET TO BE FOUND!' I knew better. No one that young, that handsome, that talented, and most importantly, that stupid, comes back after a year of no contact with the human world. It had been exactly a year since the first flyer was stabled to the power lines. While his image had remained the same; that god-awful school photo which showed him to be a smiling blonde Asian boy, everyone else changed.

The band had found a new guitarist barely a week following the disappearance. He wasn't nearly as talented as Lucas the prodigy, but he sported the same belched blonde hair; the underlying tinge of copper. They began to perform monthly at the church, a perfect parody of themselves; preaching kindness when they had none, preaching forgiveness when they had given none.

Amber Rose, Lucas' on again off again girlfriend, had found a new man; some elite soccer player who transferred from Greece and had impeccable thick eyelashes that the girls envied him for. She was no longer the frail, skinny, and sick girl that Lucas' dangerous habits had made her. Following rehabilitation for heroine, she had taken up hocky and developed into quite a character. In fact, she no longer glared at me down the hallways of the school like she had done whenever she caught me talking to Lucas. She smiled and laughed with her new friends, occasionally lifting up a hand in a half wave in my direction. I could not return her kindness. Whilst I was happy she had moved on, I couldn't get past the thought that she was happier without him, like she was glad he was gone.

The rest of the school year also moved on, happy to forget the trouble making young boy who didn't know any better. The teachers stopped talking about him, the counsellors stopped any more meetings with the student body about our mental health, and the principal seemed to visibly relax for he no longer had to deal with the constant threat of Lucas' harmless pranks.

Lucas' own stepmother seemed relieved to have the pressure of a troublesome child off of her shoulders. It was known around town that Lucas had trouble at home. But what I knew, and I only knew, was that his stepmother beat him whenever she was drunk. A perk of being the girl next door. And she was drunk for all waking hours of the day.

My younger sister, Virgo, barley ten, had grown three inches. Her dark hair fell nearly to her waist. Her brown eyes had enlarged, her waist shrunk and her cheeks filled to the point that she almost looked like a woman. She had picked up a new hobby; stargazing, and was obsessed with constellations. Our parents couldn't be more pleased that one of their two daughters had taken after them.

Self-proclaimed and self-taught scientists, they researched the cosmos and the secrets it held. The disappearance of Lucas' served to fuel their theories of alien abduction as they dug their greedy and insensitive fingers into every piece of evidence the police had managed to scavenge. I begged them to let it go, to accept that the boy next door was gone for good, and would never come back to eat Thursday dinners with us.

I knew what they knew; on one Friday night exactly one year ago, Lucas played at the schools annual showcase. It was his first solo guitar performance and it was breathtaking. Even those in the room who had no knowledge of music basked in the atmosphere of sheer and pure ecstasy that flowed from him and his guitar. It was almost as if the very drugs he had injected into himself flowed from his fingers, into the guitar, and then out into the audience, encasing us all in a suspended trance. As his song ended, he paused on the stage, awaiting the applause that never came from the shocked palms of the town's people, too stunned to move from their seats. He bowed and left the stage without hearing a single hand clap. Then he stalked out of the auditorium and into the backfield, still clutching his electric guitar, and was never seen again. The police believe he was involved in a drug gang, maybe made some bad deals, and had gotten himself killed.

Perhaps only one woman remained the same. Mrs Aali from down the street continued baking her honey Baklava, the smell drifting to my home each Sunday as it she whisked the sweet sugar and baked the delicate treats.

And even as much as I tried to resist time, to beat it back with my will, it had consumed me too. If Lucas' were alive, he would return to see a tall young woman of seventeen. Dark curly hair cut short, skin tanned under the oppressive summer heat, and eyes dark, furrowed as if in constant thought. My body was hardened by the physical training I had induced upon myself, muscles bulking my previously thin frame and callous' spotting the laboured parts of my body. A thin scar drew through the end of my eyebrow; the result of a poor dodge of a knuckle ring. I had continued to sing, but my taste in music was not as bright as it had once been. Sad songs made me happy. They made me remember. They made sure I wouldn't forget.

Hello everyone! This is the exert of my new story 'The Anima'. Please vote or comment if you are interested or intrigued in the direction of this story.

Updates will be posted weekly :)

Thank you for reading

xx

Charli.

Lucas: