Three

The First:   Its Arrival     

 

 

            The summer was hot. The schoolyard baked. It sat there near the swings, under the slide. It sat there and It cried and It shook.

            "What are you doing here?" I asked It. "What's wrong?"

            It did not answer me. It did not look at me. It just cried and shook. I felt sorry for It; I wanted to help It. I wanted to stop the shaking and I wanted to stop the crying. But I knew my mum would soon be there, to pick me up, to take me home and feed me. To make sure I would never become so sad that all I could do was cry and shake beneath the slide next to the swings in the schoolyard on a hot summers day.

 

            That night I dreamt of It and in my dream It spoke to me.

            Gemma. You are not made for this world. You are better than them, better than all of them. Come with me, let me take you home.

            I tried to answer back but I could not speak for it felt that my mouth was stuffed with cotton candy.

            When I woke, I had wet the bed.

 

            I approached It the next day. It was in the same place, beside the swings under the slide, Its flesh speckled red from the hot summers sun.

            "I do not want to go with you." I said. "I want to help you but I will not go with you."

            "Stupid girl!" It spat. "She wants to stay here in this world where her mother doesn't love her and father hates her and the boys hit her and the girls bite her. She wants to stay here in this horrible world."

            I looked at It, It cried and It shook ever harder.   

            "You are not happy." I said. "Why would I go with you if you are not happy?"

            "The girl wants me to be happy? Such a stupid girl! Happiness is weak. Power is strong. The girl has so much power; she could be so useful. Stupid, stupid girl!"

            I ran away form It then because I knew I could never make It happy, I could never make It happy if all It wanted was my power.

 

            That was seven years ago. I had not seen It since. I had not seen It until now. Now It stood before me and It no longer cried and It no longer shook.

            Girl. Come. We have work to do.















The Second      
The Ocean

She built an ocean in her basement. It wan't a literal ocean, but it served its purpose. 3 failed marriages, 2 dead parents, 1 anorexic cat, she figured it was time to build her ocean. 

It wasn't hard, the basement was small. The main problem was getting all the water. She would take the Mini to the beach and back three times a week. Living in the middle of the city made it hard. When all the water was obtained, time to get the animals. A whale, a porpoise, a dugong, that would be enough. She stole them from the local aquarium in the middle of the night.

Three years after her mother killed herself the ocean was complete.

The cat wasn't impressed. The cat just wanted a normal home with a normal owner. This was why the cat refused to eat. 

The woman's doctor calls by to ask why she had missed her last two appointments. He finds her sitting on the floor of the living room, stroking her skeleton of a cat.

"Do you want to see my ocean?" She says.

He agrees, follows her to the basement. He finds a bathtub filled with stagnant water. It's putrid and bacterial.

"Let's go for a swim." She says. "It'll be fun."

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