Ebony Wings: Chapter 11

'''Chapter 11 '''

'''Theresa '''

“I never liked pistachios.” Theresa complained.

Christopher peeled open one of the nuts easily and threw it into his mouth. “Stop your complaining.”

Theresa sighed. “It’s embarrassing to say that the reason that I don’t like it is because I can’t break it open.”

“Seriously?” She nodded.

“Here.” He reached for the nut in her hands and positioned his index fingers on the top shells of the nut. “You dig your nails in here and pull it apart, like this.” He peeled the nut open.

“Thanks.” She put the nut in her mouth.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Both of them were sitting cross-legged on Christopher’s bed (because she didn’t want to make her own bed dirty and he was a guy, they don’t care about cleanliness), opposite of each other with a bag of Pistachios between them.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“So watcha wanna do now?” He asked.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“How about a game?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“What kind?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“It’s an old game I used to play when I meet new people. We take turns stating a fact about ourselves. You lose when you run out of facts.” She explained.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Alright, shoot. You first.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Okay… Well what’s your favourite colour?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Blue.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“I thought it would be black.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">He smirked. “You would think wouldn’t you? My turn; favourite fruit?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Pears. My turn, hobbies?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Reading mostly.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“You’re not Dyslexic?” She raised an eyebrow.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Nope, is there significance to that?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Yes, most demigods are dyslexic and ADHD. Dyslexia is because our minds are hardwired for Ancient Greek while the ADHD is our battlefield reflexes. We usually have both or one or the other.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Well I have ADHD, so that counts for something. Are you Dyslexic or ADHD?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Dyslexic yeah but not ADHD.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“So we’re opposites. That’s cool.” He swallowed another nut. “Okay my turn. Boyfriends, how many?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“One, ended soon after it began.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Can I ask why?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“We got attacked by monsters on our first date. He freaked out on me and I’ve been boyfriendless ever since.” She sighed. “Now you asked two questions, so I can ask two questions now.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“You girls and your constant changing of rules.” He complained. “Go ahead.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Okay, number of girlfriend and the amount of girls you’ve kissed.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“1 and 0”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“You had a girlfriend but never kissed her?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Yeah, it was a relationship in the sense that I liked her and she liked me. It wasn’t anything serious or anything.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“I’m sorry to hear that.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“It’s okay. Worked out for the best, she got adopted and the last time I saw her she was attending a college in San Francisco; while I’m here eating nuts when a girl that probably doesn’t have a natural hair colour.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Hey! My hair is naturally blond. It’s just so light that it’s white.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Sure.” He feigned interest. “My turn, tell me about your dad.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Why do you what to know about my dad?” She frowned at him.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Well…I guess it’s because I’ve never had one.” He answered truthfully.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Oh. I’m sorry.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“It’s okay; I mean you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“No it’s okay.” Theresa shifted, trying not to make her discomfort obvious. “My dad was a painter, William Oecila. I think you already know that. He thought me everything I know, to paint, to love, to smile. He never talked about the past or my mom; he moved forward and preserved the past with his paintings, leaving his own memories for future ones; that’s what he always said.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“He…was a gentleman. Always treated a woman with respect, not the I-want-to-get-in-your-pants kind mind you, he was the old-school 80s kind of gentleman and-” She paused. “I don’t know what else to say really.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“It’s fine.” Christopher dug into the bag of pistachios but came up empty. “Well it’s your turn to ask now.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Okay.” Theresa thought about it. “Tell me about the orphanage you were in? What was it like?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Well it wasn’t easy. We didn’t have TVs or games or anything like that. We only had necessities; old Aaira made it that way so that we weren’t depended on technology. She taught us to be street smart, to take care of ourselves. She let us fight our fights; the bullies would pick on the weak. The weak had to either get strong or continued to get bullied; those of us who were strong defended the weak.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Like you?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">He nodded. “I was weak once, there was this kid who always protected me. One day he was adopted and I had to get strong on my own. My first weapons were always words; I made a bully cry when I scolded him really badly. If words failed then it would go to fists.” He winced as if reliving a bad memory. “Now that I think about it and with what Chiron told me, Aaira was training us to be demigods in her own way.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“It was hard huh?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Yeah, but I wouldn’t change it if I had the chance.” He crumpled the bag and threw it in the bin. “When I was 14, I ran. I didn’t have a reason to be there anymore, the friends I made had been adopted. Spent two years on my own, until Aaira found me again and pulled me back into the orphanage.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Do you have a picture of her?” He nodded.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Christopher reached into his back and rummaged through it a bit.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“You should really unpack.” She muttered.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">He scowled at her and held out the frame. “Here.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">The woman in the photo was short and petite, her face was wrinkled with time but her almond-coloured eyes remained sharp and focused. Her hair was tied up in a bun, completely void of its previous colour.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">A young Christopher stood beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and smiling.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“You were close huh?” She hand the photo back to him.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“The closest thing I’ve had to a mother my whole life.” He set the photo on his bedside table. “So do you want to continue playing the game?”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Not really.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“I can agree with you on that.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Theresa turned to the clock that was hanging on the wall. It was almost 7 o’clock. “It’s almost dinnertime, you should get going.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Not really hungry to be honest.”

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Me neither.” Theresa hugged her legs. The curtains had been drawn so she wouldn’t be able to see the currently setting sun and the blackness that was crawling over the sky and blanketing it with darkness.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Despite only knowing Christopher for a day, she was more comfortable with him than anybody else. Looking at him now, she could see his soul. It was still manifesting as two black wings on his back.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Even though his soul was menacing, Theresa knew he was a good guy. He had defended her twice so far; and the first time he had barely known her.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">The thought that he wanted to get into her pants did cross her mind at some point, but he didn’t seem to be the kind of guy. He flirted sometimes but it was just teasing and for fun.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">They stared at each other for a long time. He looked so vulnerable, she hated that. In the short time she knew him Christopher was loud, sarcastic, snarky but he made her smile with his antics and words.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“I’m going to take a shower, unless you want to go first?” He asked finally, breaking the silence.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">She shook her head.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Christopher didn’t ask her if she wanted to join him or teased her. He just got up and headed for the toilet.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">She sighed. He probably just needed time; he was a guy after all. Her father had taught her that when a guy needed quiet time, he really wants quiet time.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Theresa cleaned up his bed a little bit, cleaned the crumbs off and straightened the covers, it was the least she could do.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">She could see the darkness outside; she would usually be asleep at this time. What would happen if Christopher found out about her secret? He would think she was a freak.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">But she would eventually have to tell him, especially since they shared a room. What if one day he wanted to sleep before she did? He would want to switch off the light off and then she would have to be surrounded by the disgusting, grimy darkness….

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts, now was not the time to freak out. Christopher was going to come out any moment now and he would have question if she suddenly was in fetal position.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Theresa sighed and climbed onto her bed and curled up, more out of habit than anything else since she had spent the better part of her life cowering in fear of the dark.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">She heard Christopher exiting the toilet and could feel his gaze on her. Her back was towards him so she couldn’t see him and he; her. She felt him pulled the covers over her and was half expecting him to kiss her goodnight, he didn’t however.

<p style="margin:12pt0cm;line-height:16.5pt;background-position:initialinitial;background-repeat:initialinitial;"><span style="font-size:10.5pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Goodnight Princess, sweet dreams.” He told her. She heard him walk away and then sitting on his bed.

<span style="font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:10.5pt;line-height:16.5pt;">“Goodnight to you too.” She smiled, closing her eyes and embracing the only darkness she would ever be comfortable with.

<p style="text-align:center;">Ebony Wings Main Page

<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:10.5pt;line-height:16.5pt;">&lt;Previous Chapter Next Chapter&gt;

<span style="font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:10.5pt;line-height:16.5pt;"> Child of the Night, Eyes of Gold Harbinger of Shadows, an old ancient Soul .  20:23, April 2, 2014 (UTC)