MADDI PWNS ALL

Adolescent Nightmares

I loved the weather here. It was the simplicity of rain that was very breath taking. I don’t know why. The little drops coming from a darkly dimmed sunlight just sounded amazing. It was probably because the city lies in the rain shadow of the nearby Olympic Mountains. Although, I didn’t love everything about my new destination of Seattle, Washington I sure did love the fact it rained a lot. When it rained in California (which it never barely did) I felt such a big explosion of freedom. But now being in Washington, alone was sure eerie with a bit too much freedom.  I had everything left. I had nothing left.  The whole world was mine. I don’t remember how many times I have dreamed of such a longing feeling. When you get what you have been long waiting for you never feel just right and happy. Now that I have finally hit my wanting I don’t feel in place. I feel ghostly. I feel like a hidden spirit deepened by an inner-core of a shadow.

I placed my pale cold hand on the icy windowpane as a petit midnight blue butterfly sprang out into the window sill. I glided my hand on its little wings gently. The moment I touched it was the moment it flew away. I slid my fingertips down the corners of the window. I felt the dirty frost touch my finger harshly. I put my hand outside of the window so I could touch the cool rain. It was like the feeling of acceptance. The rain has to accept your hand, it cannot move away for it can only twinkle lightly on your musky fingers. The rush of the wind came in like a draft of a dark ocean painting.

I unrolled my white sleeves. I was wearing a white turtle neck with black skinny dress pants with black furry socks. I tiptoed to my king-sized bed and dove into it fiercely. I put the grey-flowered silk blankets overtop of me and squeezed all my body parts together. My world was dynamically dysfunctional.  “Breathe, Winona, breath deeply,” whispers my mother Alayana. I was sent to Seattle, Washington for college. She has high expectations for me. Very, very, very high. Her words were like icicles. They crack. Everybody else falls and breaks. She was very upset when I told her I did not want to be involved in the medical field. Artistic culture was my main interest. I loved to paint mythical creatures. But that wasn’t what I got a scholarship in to go to Seattle. I was in the medical field training to be a nurse.

***

I was back on my first rainy day in college and my second rainy day in Seattle, Washington. My lunch period at home didn’t even last as long as I hoped it would. I can’t even call it, ‘home’. I’ll just call it a small apartment for a 17 year-old early graduator. At least I was at my favorite class. I was taking a Painting/Drawing Course and Workshop.

“Art is like an obituary.  You notice its complexity.” The teacher continued on. He grabbed a long white piece of chalk and began to slowly glide on the chalkboard, ‘Mr. Madden’.  “I want you to just draw what you enjoy. Draw your interests or hobbies.” Mr. Madden passed out a normal-sized blank white piece of paper with sharpened pencils.

I got started quickly. I drew the only one thing I could immediately think of. The rain with dimmed silhouettes with dark shadows beneath them.  I pressed down on my pencil creating a couple of sunless, grey clouds but my pencil broke and rolled over on the ground. I looked down from my desk and saw a paleish, dim-yellow hand clutch onto the pencil. I followed my eyes up from the pale hand to the person’s face. It was…a very, very, very, very paleish boy. Probably paler then me. He looked almost not human, almost immortal, almost like a vampire. I wasn’t even sure would I could compress together in my mind of his actual presence of characteristics. He had dark black hair hanging from the side and unimaginable wide, crystal, emerald, rocky eyes. His eyes met mine as he looked up at me. But in almost not even a possible amount of time his eyes looked away and he flicked the pencil off of his desk.

I couldn’t help but just watch his every move. He drew something I couldn’t see exactly – he covered it up. He drew so slick, smooth and so quick it looked like he was a robot with humanized-movements. I didn’t even notice how long I was staring at him until I realized my pencil was still on the dusty, dirty floor which my bacterial pencil hit. Which made it have even more bacteria. I picked it up once I decided that if anybody noticed I was looking at him they would soon make a rude comment and make my unblemished, pale face have a dark red tint on my cheeks which would just make this trip to Seattle worse. Plus I have to come to this class at the end of everyday so I can’t have enemies or people who want to make fun of me. It’s unnecessary and annoying.

To my luck, nobody noticed as I picked up my bacterial pencil. Oh yeah, I forgot I’m in a different environment then the usual private high school in Long Beach, California. They won’t really say anything. It wasn’t sunny here all the time as it was in California. It was so different in Seattle – such a big change. I don’t know how long I have begged Alayana to let me go early to a private campus in a rainy city. She payed for me to stay in an apartment because I complained I didn’t want to live in campus with a room-mate. You could say I was socially depressed but there wasn’t much I could do about it. Social anxiety never occurred to me. It was the least bit of my worries.

My appearance which I didn’t hate but not at all exactly loved. I had straight burgundy-dark brown hair that went down to my chest with no split ends. All my bangs were swept to the left-side with a natural strip sliding to the right. My eyes were diamond-shaped and hazel but looked naturally pure green-tinted yellow. My face like I explained before was pale and unblemished which I was proud of. I guess I had clear enough skin to call myself pretty. But I still had petty features so I couldn’t brag. My legs were skinny and I couldn’t really say anything about my weight – average? Yes, but perhaps I could say I hated my medium-sized nose that curved right up. It’s not something I’d bug Alayana about getting surgery for but it’s defiantly a dislike.

“Can everybody please put their drawings on top of my desk? They will not be marked or corrected. You cannot correct or mark a beginner in art. I just want to see your interest of drawings and how well you are.” Mr. Madden asked everybody.

I was startled as I looked at the clock. Although, I was happy that time was passing so quickly I was angered that I did not get to finish my drawing. I waited until a few people went up to put theirs down. I always did this just so nobody would look at mine or I wouldn’t cause a distraction.

Mr. Madden continued, “You guys are a very quiet class. I will be excited to see you all tomorrow.” Everybody walked out of the door quietly as the bell rang. I was basically at a dream school. Everybody was quiet, well-behaved, and well-mannered. Yes, this was not like high school in sunny California. Where everybody ran out maliciously without caring what they hit or who they hurt on their run out.

I walked out patiently. The pale boy I noticed earlier came running before me hitting me hard in the shoulder on the way out. I didn’t make a big deal out of it. He was probably a malicious boy from a malicious high school from the malicious California or perhaps, Arizona?

Once I reached my car I saw that the pale boy was following me. I quickly unlocked my car door and sat in the driver’s seat.

“Hello.” I rolled down the window and there was a long light brownish haired, tall girl right outside of my window. The girl had a Western-accent like she was from Texas or something. She continued, “This is a beautiful car you have. Is it a 2009 Eclipse Spyder?” I nodded my head lightly. “It’s beautiful. I have always wanted one but could never really afford it. Y’know I had one of those – those uh, 1989 Mitsubishi HSR’s wow that is a nice ride. I won it at an auction for a free prize for volunteering but it ended up being a trick. I only got a 1989 Mitsubishi Galant vr4q. It was still a nice ride but not nicer then that HSR.”

I smiled brightly replying, “I wanted a 2003 Mitsubishi but my mother insisted she bought me a 2009 Eclipse Spyder.”

She laughed. “I would kill for at least a 1999 Mitsubishi. But my mama and papa can’t afford it. Hey! What is your name?”

I put my keys down and responded softly, “My name is Winona Lowell. What might be yours?” I noticed the pale boy starring at us in his exact same car as mine. Silver 2009 Eclipse Spyder. “Excuse me, what did you say?” I asked as I looked back at her.

She frowned. “I must be boring you. I should go; my pops is taking me to the barn this weekend only if I behave and get home nice and early to cook dinner. I should go now.”

“No, no stay, stay! You are not boring me. See I just moved from Long Beach, California. So I just got in Seattle two days ago. I’ve been stressed out lately with all this moving and stuff. I’m only seventeen. What’s your name?” I replied quickly so she wouldn’t leave. She was such a nice person, I had to admit.

The tall girl gave me another promising grin and she curtsied and she said, “My name is Lola. Lola Harrison. All the way from Long Beach, California? Wow that is a long way! My pops said that one day were going to go on a road trip to California. He said we’ll stay in Las Angeles where all the other celebrities stay.”

I was so impressed with this well-mannered girl. She seemed like an innocent little girl. “How old are you?” I asked. She replied, ‘eighteen’. I just felt like giving her the money myself so she could go catch a flight to California and stay in the Hilton Hotel or something. “Did anybody ever tell you, you have such great manners?”

Her face lit up a color of magenta and she giggled. “Why yeah, my mama always said I got good manners and I’d get far in life. I want to build cars for celebrity’s y’know. I can customable create their car. Well, I really should get going though. I got to cook my pops dinner! I’ll see you later Winona that is such a beautiful name. It goes with the awesome car.”

I waved good-bye as she left. I peeked back at the paleish (stubborn) boy. He was smirking in his car (which was exactly like mine). The tall boy was staring right at me; it didn’t quite freak me out as others probably would be. I was a little bit more relaxed then most people. I started up the Eclipse and the engine had a smooth sickle sound as I started to back out of the parking lot – the tall, pale boy zoomed right for my car but barely missed it by like a centimeter he speeded his way out of the parking lot. I could see in his rear view mirror he was laughing and he caught my glance. I rolled my eyes continuing to back out of the parking lot.

***

That boy troubled a lot all through the night. When I was cooking my favorite – chicken Alfredo penne with Cordon Bleu I couldn’t stop to think what was his problem. The, ‘almost hitting my car’ incident the ‘picking up my pencil and flicking it away instead of properly giving it to me’. What has he had enough of AP Chemistry too? I was also troubled (amazed) by his appearance too. He seemed so put together. The boy was wearing just a plain black tee-shirt with black dress pants. He had some cross necklace on his neck too I couldn’t help but look also. His teeth were so white and straight – with probably no overbite. I’ve never saw such perfect teeth in my life.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I didn’t do much that night but cook, read The Book of Shadows by James Reese, send e-mails to Alayana, order food online and shower. My look dark brown hair with burgundy streaked everywhere hung down dully. I put my hair up into a high ponytail and began to cleanse my face and then moisturize it, washed my hands and slipped into lingerie and off to the king-sized bed I had.

And all through-out that time of getting ready to go to bed I foolishly kept thinking about the pale boy. When I was talking to Lola Harrison I was actually considering of asking her what his name was. This shouldn’t be an issue in my life. Well, actually I have nothing else to do but have something to think about. In California all everybody would do all day was talk about ‘celebrity gossip’ and ‘Tim my husband bought me a 4 carrot diamond ring!’ I was so immediately attracted to this ‘tall boy’ or ‘pale boy’ why not think about him? I did have nothing better to do. If I was in California right now I would be attempting to play water polo. This actually seemed more interesting.

I closed my eyes and did a foolish get-to-sleep trick. I started to count sheep. I haven’t down that since I was at least six years old. I didn’t want to go to bed but I didn’t want to stay up either. Going to bed was winning on my vote so it’s all I could do.

***

“Why-know-na….” an eerie, soft, emerald voice cried. It seemed so close. I could feel harsh breathing down my neck. It was a cold voice and breathes. I’ve never heard the voice before or felt the breath. It was dead silence. I inhaled for a second – it was too silent I didn’t want to be loud. I exhaled slowly and the eerie, cold voice spoke again, “Winona…dear, come draw a sophisticated portrait.” I slowly turned my head with my eyes closed shut. I began to twist my body around in my bed. I slowly opened my eyes and I screamed as loud as I could. The image wasn’t right – I was still in my bed safe and sound. Maybe not safe…who was this man? My room was dark with only the moonlight that shown in from the window as the curtains floated from side to side. The window was opened slightly as it rained outside. A glowing body lay before me.

That’s when it all compressed into a forbidden puzzle piece. I was thinking too much of this man. The pale boy. But how would I be able to remember his voice? I’ve never heard his voice. Only saw his laugh muted. This was of course a dream. I was 100% sure that I was dreaming. For one, the pale boy was holding a pixie in his hand clutching is hardly as it cried to the moon (I think). I’ve never heard his voice before, which is an obvious fact I’ve probably just heard it from TV before. And of course, I can’t feel a thing. But the wind flowing on to me and some sort of substance of dust he was blowing softly at me.

“Winona my sweet dear, paint a picture of me – Alexandre. Alexandre Edwardian. That’s my name. You do not need to ask Lola Harrison; Just ask I.” The pale boy (his name can’t be Alexandre!) said.

Yes, I was dreaming. If I wasn’t then tell me this; why exactly did he jump up quickly (not even a second passed) and pure white angels wings appeared on his back. He flew out of the small crack. I don’t know exactly how he fit but he went there. The pixie he was holding in his hand flew with him too. In a half a second later they both appeared again. Both standing on the floor of my bedroom of my new apartment in Seattle. The pale boy (it can’t be Alexandre…but I’ll call him that) was actually flying. He flew to my paint set. And yes, I was magically dreaming now. This was actually starting to scare me. Pages started to flip on it uncontrollably. I could see different pictures showing up each time.

I jumped up from my bed quickly grabbing my black-rimmed reading glasses so I could look closely. It seemed to me there was him. Alexandre – a like animation of him or something. He was kneeling down  and blood was flowing out of his hands. As each page flipped more blood flowed from his hands and he began to smirk. The little pixie was at the top too.  I fell back on my butt as Alexandre flew out of my painting paper board. The pixie followed behind.

He smirked. And he was sitting behind me somehow. I knew he was sitting behind me. I could sense his presence. He was cold breath down my neck. He whispered coolly, “Winona, Winona, I made a portrait of me – for you.” He did an laugh – a cruel sort of chuckle. It scared me. More then moving from California to Seattle scared me. I screamed loud and louder but nobody seemed to hear me as he chuckled cruelly louder and louder.