Ascent of Pelago: Chapter One
Pelago had long, fire red hair and eyes black as coal. When she sung, it was the shattering melody of thunderstorms and earthquakes. When she danced, the flowers would bow down in her name. When she spoke, the rain would go silent.
Everything was silent nowadays, from the solid teeth of the dead, to the sun, to the foraging animals who ate a good few human bones. As far as she could tell, she was the only one left, and felt nothing. Father was dead. Mother was dead. Lover one was dead. Lover two was dead. Friends, enemies, and frenemies, all dead.
For a period, she questioned why she felt nothing. In psychology class in her freshman (her only) year of college, they talked about the five stages of grief, the Kubler-Ross Model. In her many notebooks that she collected, she wrote the stages down.
1. Denial (No denying the corpses on the ground, and voiceless mouths, and maggots, and the stench, that too.)
2. Anger (She was angry, but it dulled down)
3. Bargaining (Who was she to bargain with? God? The Dead Dalai Lama? Vishnu, Shiva, Those Wiccan Deities? Herself?)
4. Depression (She was depressed, but that too, dulled down.)
5. Acceptance (Acceptance, now that was crazy.)
Early on, there were some odd days, with wild happiness- “I'M FREE! I'M FREE! NO ONE TO PLEASE, NO ONE TO ARGUE WITH!” Those came and went. She would go to the open marts and loot the rotten food, forage for weapons to keep the animals at bay, and go on her merry route. Mostly, days involved crying, which turned to months, which turned into half a year.
January 2- it was freezing cold. She dragged around a shopping cart and a tent for emergencies, and wandered for the sake of wandering. Winter was spent on the rich part of an empty hotel, warm with down comforters. There were few bodies on the that floor, and it had all the amenities, including large jugs of water. There was no point going outside, after all, until one day, she spied the walking figure of a human outside of the hotel, white hair blowing. It was a casual gait, and the person's figure was blinding, white clothes unmarred by dirt. He was crossing the street. She could not see the face from so high up.
Pelago's heart sprinted a mile long race as she ran down the flights of stairs to get a glimpse of the figure, so eager for company, disregarding whether or not this person was a possible threat. Flinging herself out the doors, she found him standing outside, and gasped.
He was not an old man like the white hair suggested, which was shoulder length and untied. Instead, he appeared to be about her age, slender, and a bit taller than her father, who was a tall man indeed. His eyes were an eerie sky blue, face faintly handsome and red from the cold, and he wore a dress shirt and similarly white pants.
“I-Uh- I um, oh god oh god oh god-”
Clearly she had lost the ability to speak coherently after six months of solitude. She was almost in tears, and the young man opened his mouth, voice not unlike a church bell, the kind rung in ceremonies. Almost too clear, when she considered it- too solid.
“You are the only human left, Pelago Jane.”
She cried now.
“Are you an angel?”
He hesitated.
“I was supposed to tell you that, as the missions stated, but it appears that you aren't a believer.”
“W-what... what are you talking about, oh god oh god are you going to kill me?”
“I will do nothing of the sort. I was sent here by my superiors. Your preservation is precious to us, but I am higher than lying and pretending to be some sort of fool deity to impregnate you with some higher power.”
She could not speak.
“I am to remain with you for three human cycles. We will extend your life. Tell me all you can about Earth history. We would like to hear it.”
Her knees wobbled underneath her. Pelago sobbed and sobbed. The stranger's tone changed to one of trained, rehearsed sympathy.
“I know this is difficult for you.”
“Like hell you do.”
His eyes blinked in surprise. “No, you are right. I do not know how difficult this is for you. This is difficult for me as well. Three human cycles is a long time to waste, and I doubt they will return for me-”
She slugged him in the jaw, and red blood escaped his nose. He laughed, a noise that was surprisingly without spite, a noise one would usually get after telling a mild joke.
“We shall be here for a while, Pelago.”
Previous
No comments:
Post a Comment