Sunday, August 7, 2011

1. Names

~ 100 THEMES ~

She landed on the tower's ground, penetrating through the roof and shattering the ceiling just seconds before.

The thirteen year old didn't remember the falling, crashing, or sound of her own bones breaking too well, but by the time her consciousness was fading back, the pain had subsided, after effects leaving...and the reality of her situation was dawning into her mind.

So there was a time where we could all stand and wait for the truth and fight for the lost and stand for the broken and let the others fall and bring forth those who could not see and let the drowned take in each breath of air and leave us all again in this shattering layer.

She was face up, back against the floor. Cracks on the ground. Eyes shut. The room glistened around her.

I remember the past and I'll remember the future and every little thing that left and every little moment that brought me back and I will know what will happen and let us all rise again just rise again.

She twitched. There were gears in the room, twisting, turning, slowly continuing with each one of her heartbeats. Spread out with her arm left hanging dead to the side while her legs curled up and left her motionless like a doll. Her fingers were starting to move, wiggling just as her eyelids began to flutter open, green eyes adjusting to the golden and brown room. The blonde girl didn't sit up immediately, instead she focused on her arm, stretched out beside her, palm to the sky. It looked dead, motionless for a few moments, that she wondered if it even belonged to her. She saw her fingers starting to wiggle again, felt the cool texture below her skin, and finally brought it up, towards the glistening ceiling, as if she were reaching for something.

Slowly, the blonde girl sat up, staring down at her clothes. A white dress, bright silver shoes with heels. She ran a hand through her hair, actually combed this time, her fingers sliding through the locks without bumping against a thread and locking in place. She was running her hands through her face, her arms, her dress. Clean and groomed.

All to meet the Watchmaker.

One thing had to go, though, and that was the shoes that currently strapped and held tightly against her feet. She reached down for them and yanked them out, placing them gently against the floor before getting up, the cool tiles below sending shivers up her legs. She looked around the room, finding that when she looked up at the ceiling, it felt like she was gazing upon miles and miles of a landscape. There were clocks all around the walls, ticking all together despite being in different times--some even going counterclockwise. Pursing her lips, the young girl began walking around the circle of the room, her hand stretched out, touching each and every clock her fingers could glide over.

With each step taken, she began to speak, "Your perception is your reality. You see things the way you decide to see them. It's the working functions and turning gears that catch our eyes. Little things that twist and pull. We have to break things apart to see the inside, and sometimes we never get that far. Sometimes we watch the seconds fly by with each tick of the clock. But there are those that open the parts and examine them, and then see it for more than what it is. There are those that flip through the pages and read the words that had been previously scratched out, or even erased."

She began tapping against the doors, "Ghosts are constant. But they are your ghosts. Haunting only you at every turn. Nightcrawlers turn and whisper to our hearts, keeping us asleep for however long as possible. But there are ways to wake up. The world is our dream, and we are all fighting for it to become the reality. But it cannot be that way. We cannot make the dream the reality."

For a moment, all the watches stopped and the room felt silent. The girl narrowed her eyes, her lips set apart slightly as she waited to see if she was to continue...or lay down again and close her eyes.

That's when the ticking began again right as the sound of gears growling through out the room started, and she continued moving, "When you open your eyes, you see through the eyes of others because of what is above. The sky is our vessel, as it shows through the souls of the rest. The windows that open and the breeze that blows by. The life that we see and the life that they see, staring back to the mirror of the life that is true to the very end. See things. Watch things. Wait for things. And then you can understand. And then you can begin rewriting it all again. And then..."

She stopped in front of a watch, the most broken and cracked of all. Her circling around the room had not ended yet, but this one was interesting. Three slashes ran down the glass that showed the numbers. The girl could see her reflection through it, her scars falling perfectly in line with the scratches of the glass.

"And then we can find our way out of the labyrinth."

The watch stopped just as the girl finished her words. She retreated her hand away and merely watched it with wide eyes. The cracks in front of it...they seemed to deepen. She heard the sound of nails clawing right over the glass. The first loud crack of it startled her, and only then she realized all other clocks in the room had stopped. It cracked again and again, lines extending all around before every bit of the clock was breaking.

The blonde girl tried to stand in place, but soon the shattering began to be too much. Bits and pieces flew off and she leaped back several steps. Then the whole clock exploded, million pieces everywhere, a loud bang that echoed just as she threw herself on the ground, arms over her head, curled up so to protect herself. The remains scattered around her, some striking over her bare skin and back. After a few seconds, she peeked up curiously. There was a door, just as large as the watch and barely big enough to let her in. She crawled up to her feet and reached for the knob.

There were sounds inside the room. Mechanical sounds, with a few watches ticking here and there. She opened the door with measured speed, deliberately taking her time as she slid inside the room, her eyes managing to adjust to its small interior. Tools on the wall, springs, gears, little mechanical parts, all over wooden brown tables and benches. Everywhere. It was just everywhere. She looked down at her clothes finally and realized just how out of place she appeared in this room, white against gold. Her bare feet made barely any sound as she stepped forward, and though she had not yet noticed the man standing at the far end of the room, his back turned to her as he leaned over a work bench, he was the first to speak with a deep, deep voice, "You have quite an interesting reason to dare to come here, Esther Paine."

She stopped now, her head snapping upwards as she finally saw him. The Watchmaker.

It was a man, or at least, he appeared as one. Upon his body a bright yellow kimono adorned him, the color of the sun at its highest point in the sky. He was taller, much more so than the girl, with no hair upon his head and dark brown skin. She could see him working over something, tinkering with the inside of a watch as he greeted her. "That..." she began, taking another step forward, still marveling at the working parts laid out over the room. "That is not my name anymore."

He didn't turn, didn't flinch, "Anymore, you say? You have renamed yourself, Esther?"

She nodded despite the fact he still hadn't turned, "My name is Dream," she said in a low voice, stopping just as she reached the middle of the room. Her eyes were gentle, but she stood with her head held high, shoulders back, an her hands closed tightly into fists, "Just as her name is now Spirit."

He still hadn't stopped what he was doing, but even in his tone he seemed slightly surprised, "Ah, you must be here for her," he said, reaching to the side to take a part from a bench to his left before turning back quickly to his work. Dream narrowed her eyes, having hoped to catch a sight of his face, but was unable to, "I was hoping that had only been half the truth."

She stepped forward, an action that took quite some courage to execute as the Watchmaker's tone shifted into a harsher one. "It's not the only one," she explained, "There's a lot I've come to ask you for. Most of it I explained before, half of it at the door."

The Watchmaker tilted his head to the side, half turning to her so she could see the outline of his face. But with his eyes lowered, his eyelids seemed to cover his irises, and she could hardly see most of him. The action itself made her weary, for he was taking longer pauses now, "I cannot give her to you, Dream. She is not yours to take after what has happened."

Dream felt the urge to growl and spit out incoherent words of anger, but she bit down on her tongue. Her throat tightened, a burning pain growing within just as she held back any words she would regret. The Watchmaker was not one she would be foolish enough to argue with. It was an easier task to do in this world, more than it would have been any where else, but it pained her nevertheless. "Where is she?" she asked, calmly, controlled. As much as she could manage at least, "I just want to see her. I will not try anything against you."

The Watchmaker did not say a word this time, simply flicking his hand towards the left, pointing at a corner in the room. When Dream laid eyes upon said corner, she gasped, jumping backwards as her eyes widened. How in the world-?

She had not seen Spirit there, golden chains surrounding her small body. Her eyes were closed, her brown hair down and around her, a black dress upon her as she stood against the corner, asleep. She looked unharmed, untouched. Her skin was without cuts, bruises, or dirt, her hair brushed and around her, the black dress she wore displaying beautiful patterns of grey flowers at the very end. She was not hurt...and yet she hardly looked real. A doll, standing in the corner of the room. It terrified her. "How did I not-?" Dream stuttered, but the Watchmaker chuckled, stopping her in place.

"She's been standing there like a mute, Dream," he said, "You just had to look to the side, you would have seen her there. Now tell me...why rename yourself, Dream?"

Dream gulped, trying to collect herself as she turned to him again, "Remember what I said about the ghosts--hunting us?" she asked, but the Watchmaker did not answer, just waited for her to continue. "Spirit and me were broken before, shattered pieces with bits missing. Nothing worth putting together again. We found each other, thinking it didn't matter what we were or who we were. She was banging on a piano, left forgotten on the forest. I asked her if she was a demon...and it was like...she understood. Understood what a demon was. What we were to each other. The bits were missing...but we fixed each other."

"And how did you manage such a thing?"

She flashed her eyes at the limp, doll-like figure of her friend before continuing, "A name is a name. Our parents and makers gave us names that would fit the broken but painted pictures they had of us. It is not who we were, it is not who we ever will be. When we renamed ourselves, we knew the weight we placed on our identity started with that. With what we defined ourselves as. I would be Dream for my purpose and my goal. She would be Spirit for her ghosts and her being. And even through all that...we would find meaning. We would find the truth of each other." She paused for a moment, then said, "Spirit tried to do the tasks...I know she did. Something happened. You have taken her as punishment, but I will fix this. I will. Take my word and let me make things right."

For the first time, the Watchmaker turned to look at her, the very end of a pocket watch upon his hand made of a dark-brown red. It had been the first thing to catch Dream's attention, right before she noticed his golden eyes, wide and focused on only her, "You'll need some weapons, Dream," he said, and she felt the world around her shifting. Changing. Nothing was happening in that room, but her heart was leaping, "And once I give you this, you will know what to do to repay me...and to earn your price."

"Not weapons," she said, extending her hand as he stepped closer, "But I will need someone."

He tilted his head, a half smile forming over his lips. It was almost like he knew the answer, for he was already shaking his head, "So you need her-?"

"I do," Dream said quickly, her hand still stretched out, palm up, "Spirit and I can finish every task, speak to every person you wish to, but I will not do it alone."

"Will not or cannot?"

Dream took a deep breath of air, gulping back a lump in her throat before her eyes flashed behind him to her chained friend. "Please," she whispered, "I will finish whatever you ask of me, but I will only do this with Spirit. There are just some things I cannot do alone. I may be one to observe and listen, but I might end up spitting words out loud that will harm things. I don't...understand or...speak how I should...not to others. I need Spirit. She will wait, she will listen, she will see even that which I cannot."

The Watchmaker leaned down a bit, no longer towering over Dream but somehow managing to make her feel like the walls around the room were closing in, his stone-cold gaze sending a shiver down her spine, "And once I have given you Spirit, what assures me that you will finish the job and not escape with her?"

"You know the answer to that," Dream said, "Bind my pledge to these tasks and seal it with both our names, and the chains that hold her now shall remain draped around her body. But-"

"The longer you take," the Watchmaker continued for her, "The more the chains shall tightened around her, cutting into her skin, tissue, muscle, bone, until she's useless and broken like a doll." He nodded slowly just as he placed the down the end of the watch on Dream's hand, "You have a hundred days, and today--today was your first."

"I-" Dream said right before stopping herself. Yes. A hundred days--ninety-nine to be exact if today even counted for anything. She nodded at him as the watch sank down onto her palm, the chain falling over her skin like a serpent. The Watchmaker smiled before turning to Spirit, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. Her eyelids opened without flutter, mechanically, and she turned her head slowly to look at him. With an arm around her shoulder he led her closer to Dream, but she didn't even seem to acknowledge the blonde there. Though she moved without trouble, there were still the golden chains hanging loosely around her. It was what Dream's eyes were focused on, right before the Watchmaker turned to a wall with just a clock on it. He dragged his finger over the glass, watching it stop for a second before it turned directions, counter-clockwise now. "Step back," he told the two, and though Dream moved quickly and felt herself reaching for Spirit, she saw the brunette take a step back mechanically, her eyes staring forward with a blank look upon them.

There was a loud creaking sound, and by the time Dream had whirled around to the clock in front of them, it was opening towards them, all to reveal the sunrise, the glowing ball of flame illuminating a radiant sky. She felt the wind striking against her face as both her and Spirit stepped forward, closer to the door. She turned with wide eyes of fear to look at the Watchmaker as she realized this was the way out, but just as her neck twisted slowly to look at him in the eyes as he stood close behind them, she saw Spirit close her eyes as she drifted forward-


And fell down through the open door.

Dream's shrill scream for her friend was the last noise the girl did before leaping right behind her, her arms wide open and her hand clasping tightly onto the watch on her hand. The air rushed around her, stinging her eyes and deafening her ears. She was reaching for the falling figure of Spirit as the clouds disappeared around them, turning into mist and then releasing them again. The farther they fell, the more Spirit's eyelids began to flutter, and the more she seemed to become aware of everything. Dream called out to her, tears flying from her red, irritated eyes, and when Spirit looked through her wild hair, her fluttering dress, and the wind that rushed all around them, she finally opened her eyes widely and whispered the blonde's name.

What happened later was something the two didn't quite understand.

When Dream came to, she was laying against green grass, the sound of a river not too far away from where she was laying down. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the sun rays that pierced through the branches of a tree that stood high above her. She wiggled her fingers, her toes, and tried to stand up, but could feel a dull ache running through her bones and limbs. "Ow..." she whispered, taking in a deep breath of air.

But there was something running...moving...she tried to see but was stone hard against the ground, bushes with flowers and leaves around her, the trunk of at tree...

Someone was calling out. A girl. A voice. But who-?


She bolted up to a sitting position a heartbeat before being thrown back down to the ground again as a brunette girl leaped over a bush and tackled her to the ground in a hug, throwing her arms around her. Dream's eyes widened, but she too wrapped her arms around her friend, ignoring the piercing pain that ran through her body, and felt a smile spreading over her lips. "Spirit?"

"You're here, you're here," Spirit whispered, "We were falling and I could see the sun around us and there was just screaming from you and so much wind and-"

"It's okay," Dream chuckled, "It''s his way of taking us to places, it seems."

There was a long pause where all the two wanderers did was remain silent and without pulling back like two lost children having finally found one another. It was quite, the world around them merely starting to wake up now. They heard birds singing in the distance and felt at peace within themselves, even if just for those moments.

"I heard you," Spirit's voice was muffled as she spoke through the curtain of Dream's hair. They pulled back slightly to look at each other in the eye, "When you told him what our names were now, how we renamed ourselves."

"You heard that?"

"I heard everything," she smiled slightly, "But that bit stayed with me. We renamed ourselves to keep the ghosts away. That's what you told me." She paused for a moment just as she stopped little tears from trickling down from her eyes. Dream felt a pang in her heart, a heavy weight placed against her chest as she wondered something. What had the Watchmaker done to her? That's when Spirit began speaking again, blinking back tears and keeping herself in check, "It's helped. We might have to go chasing for ghosts again...but...they can never haunt us. Not how it was before. I know it. They might have tormented Brooklyn and Esther for years, but they'll never get to us--to Spirit and Dream."

Dream smiled at this, "But...even so...there are newer demons to face. More ghosts that will follow us."

"Yes," Spirit said quickly, nodding, "But Esther and Brooklyn could be haunted. They were scared and easy to prey upon," she said, right before gulping and giving her a one-second smile, the rarest of the rare, and then saying, "We won't be."

Derpy-derp, I wasn't going to add notes after finishing pieces, but since my deadline is making one once a day, I might as well O_e'

BLAHHH! THIS ONE TOOK FOREVER! DX This is waht I get for trying to follow a linear storyline in a 100 themes challenge. But tis cool. I'll manage...somehow O_o' After all, if I want to be a writer one day I'll have to live with deadlines o_o'

On another note. Crazy road trip of epicness that may or may not happen in a few years? I haz majority of soundtrack:

  • Damh the Bard (and anything else of that genre, mostly because it's music Nineteen Year Old Dude likes)
  • Led Zeppelin
  • Gustavo Cerati (and maybe a bit of Soda Stereo. This recommended by my dad since he is his favorite musician and I quite like his music--it would fit well into the road trip videos.)
  • White Stripes

It can't be for profit, for obvious reasons, if not we're gonna have to contact and pay the musicians/representatives/the shinanigans or however it works (see? I'm doomed, I have no idea how to do this.) But I'm hoping we should be alright with this list, as well as a few other songs (mostly rock >.>) I've got for back up.

~ Becky

P.S: If this writing challenge theme ever does turn out to be a working novel, I promise to never sell it or even attempt to. For some reason, I never want to make money from Dream ._.'

For now...there's a bit of a plot O.e Not sure where it's heading to...(is that the correct way to end a sentence? Must check >.<)


  1. Anonymous7:46 PM

    Anon Emzy here- Luv it, Bec. *Noms*


  2. ....Darth, you win. Dream's monologue's are GREAT D<

  3. Anonymous8:25 PM

    I think I remember this. I wish I could just read a big story in which these characters are; I forget who they are from one post to the next. (Well, that could just be my bad memory...)


"Science and science fiction have done a kind of dance over the last century... The scientists make a finding. It inspires science fiction writers to write about it, and a host of young people read the science fiction and are excited, and inspired to become scientists...which they do, which then feeds again into another generation of science fiction and science..."
- Carl Sagan, in his message to future explorers of Mars.