EXCOLO

[Monday, January 4th (Day 218)]
[Mid-Morning - Apartments above the Whitechapel]

It’s a very strange sort of day and it only started just now. I can’t say how I know it’s strange, not just yet, besides the way the sun’s coming through the window, dust bits dancing along the beams, or the funny kind of hum in the air. It’s a day that’s expecting something, a day waiting on the front porch for Daddy to come home, eyes far off and away towards the end of the road and watching for the first sign of horses kicking up dirt. I can’t say it’s something big, not big big really, but its something.

There’s warm clothes on my back, warm breakfast in my belly, and all of that’s nice enough because it’s still so cold outside. Winter was fun at first, when it was all snowmen and breath solid, dancing in front of my face as I ran in the yard. I think I want it to go away now, though. Fruit that’s gone rotten, nice and crisp then sweet as it ripens and now soft with flies.

I play in my room for a long while, the dolls that Hermia gave me telling me all sorts of stories as I dance them around, until that goes soft too. Everything today, everything now, it’s been here too long and I don’t like it much anymore. I leave the dolls on the floor, they are napping there I like to think, and wander out into the hall.

Not the big man’s room, I know I shouldn’t do that, even if I‘m still standing there, hand on the closed door and head resting on the frame. It’s daytime and he’s sleeping and even if that’s odd, I don’t think it’s wrong. The big man, he’s the sort that can do what he wants, without being wrong. Even sleeping when the sun is up.

My name’s in the air after a good stretch, with my feet aching and my hand not moving at all. Alice, Alice, through the whole place and coming to me. It pulls me back - later, later - and I run off after it, my name, until I’m in the apartments, through the living room and after Valmont. “Yes?” I call out, breath trying to catch up with all that running.

[Open to Valmont and Westin]

[Thursday, November 26th (Day 179)]
[Noon - the Whitechapel]


It's been a week, more than a week, since the sky set on fire and she's still sleeping, eyes burning and skin hot to the touch.  I stay behind, peering in from a distance as the others wander in and out, nodding our head when they ask if we are all right, willing them away so she can rest, so I can watch.

I don't see what she sees, only know what I can gather from behind her eyes, but I know why this happened.  She whispers the name in her sleep, her voice echoing through our mind until I find myself mouthing the words as well, that falling star setting the world ablaze as it fell, a flash of that truth just outside then window and then the screaming, the tears.  And I don't know who this is, the star with the smiling face, but it doesn't matter.  For every tear, every time she cries out in her sleep and curls deeper into herself, I'll see it dead.

The light burns and she thinks the darkness will help, but I don't want him here, her dark god.  His teeth are too sharp, his eyes too bright at times and I know what goes on behind them, I know if she doesn't when he looks our way.  But the days stretch on with his name on her lips until I can't hold her back any more.  Call him, then.  Call him and see if he can help where I haven't, see if the night hurts any less.

"Gaueko..."

And we wait.  We wait and nothing happens, no one comes.  I can barely feel the darkness, with the sun shining so bright, and the tears start again, little Alice so lost and thinking herself alone.  Fine.  

The body is weak so I move us without it, pulling us from the bed with our toes just grazing the floor.  Our feet touch down, too cold with our skin so hot, and she gasps in her sleep, still whispering for the hound.  He's not coming, he's not coming, and that bothers me, after he promised.  But I can help where he can't.

I take control then, unstable in the skin but fine after a few steps, moving us out of the room and down the hall and to her precious Gaueko.  He promised, promised, and we'll see if he can help.  If he's more than just words and laughing eyes to dash out once I'm through.  I move to his room, through the door with large eyes gone dark, Alice not there with her smiles, and look his way before I can no longer keep control and we collapse to the floor.

[Open to Gaueko and Verdandi]

[Sunday, November 8th (Day 161)]
[Just past midnight - the Whitechapel]

She sleeps with her eyes open, poor girl, and sees when she wishes she couldn't.  I watch from inside, holding down our arms when they want to fight, keeping the screams muffled in the back of our throat.  I'm not there, those memories are hers and not mine, and so I just float past them, fire and pain washing over me as I go.  It's the same every night, wrists bleeding from the ropes with flames dancing at our shoes.  Smoke rises up, the sharp smell of wet wood set to blaze, swirling around our legs.  Tears sting our eyes and it turns the crowd, loud and jeering, into a many-headed beast, writhing on all sides.

That's when she went to sleep, but tonight I won't let her.  A little at a time, a little more each night, again I show her the fire, the way the flesh blistered and the men screamed.  I let her feel the wind in our hair, humid Sunday morning turned suddenly cold, and I know she understands.  It's only a moment, only ever the smallest flicker of recognition, and then it's gone.  But it's something.  The beginning of something important that even I don't understand, great snaking darkness and stars falling from the sky behind her eyes, and it's for me to lead her there.   

Little by little, hand in hand, the time of remembering is almost here.

I can't breathe.  I try, one time and then another, again and again until there's just my heart beating so fast in my ears and my breath finally comes, stuck in my throat like drink that won't go down.  I'm sitting straight up, in my bed with my covers wrapped tight around, safe and warm.  I know that, know I'm at the Inn with Valmont and Hermia down the hall, but my head wants me to be somewhere else.  It smells like smoke now - nothing's burning - and the thought makes me shake.

It's too bright again, the star shining through the windows until I think that's where the smoke is coming from, the curtains are on fire from the light.  They aren't and it isn't and there's still shadow in the corners, but it's not the same.  Not the same at all.  Those shadows are small and gray, scared of the light and hiding from it.  I pull the blanket over my head, my eyes are on fire too, and it's just as bright, underneath the covers and behind my eyelids.  

Such a big hole, with the dirt flying everywhere, and it must have made a noise, I know.  She keeps everyone awake, so loud and bright and pretty too, though I don't like her skin when it's on mine.  It hurts like my legs before Mr Constantine came to give me medicine, like red hot skin from staying outside all day long.  It hurts and I want it dark again, cool and dark and my lips start moving, the word dancing on my tongue and my voice not following, still stuck down deep inside.  Again and again, I just mouth the word, the name, and that's almost enough to take the pain away, just to remember the darkness.  Almost, almost, almost...

"Gaueko."

It's a whisper, barely a sound, and it echoes through the room.

[Open to Gaueko]

Tuesday, November 3rd (Day 156)
Morning
White Chapel Inn

My head doesn't hurt today, not as bad.  Sunday, it hurt a lot.  My eyes wanted to burn because there was so much light behind them, all the glitter from the star still there in my memories and not going away.  I slept a lot because of it, all during the day until the night came.  It was better then, a little, even if the shadows were very faint and not what I wanted at all.  Not deep and thick and full of secrets.  Yesterday was better, a lot better, and I went downstairs, though not for long.  No one wanted to say the questions, but I could see them on their lips anyway, waiting for me to give all sorts of answers I didn't even know.  Valmont wasn't angry, though, not how I thought he would be, and didn't even punish me at all.

That's weird, I think, even if it's nice.  Daddy says (said?) that it's a man's job to shepherd those around him.  But Valmont always just smiles and hugs me, when I speak out of turn or even don't want to get out of bed right away.  And I never see him correct Hermia, not at all.  Maybe Mr. Constantine was right about Excolo being very different.  Or maybe Valmont just doesn't know.  Either way, I don't think I'm going to say anything, not at all.  That is wrong of me, just like borrowing when I should have asked, but I don't want to, so I won't.  My secret, all mine and no one else's.

I'm still quiet at breakfast, just in case Valmont was maybe just waiting to punish me, and get dressed as quick as I can after that.  It's another pretty dress, my closet is full of them and I don't even have to share, and a ribbon in my hair to match.  There are new shoes, too, and even though I don't want to wear them, not really, I slip them on and pad downstairs.  It's cold and I don't want anyone sore with me for not being dressed the way I should.

The clouds are hanging thick in the sky, waiting for some storm that may never come, and it's all the brighter without the sun, the only real light shining in strong from the-  The star lady.  It's the same light, I know, would recognize it anywhere, and it's funny to sit in the grass out back and look over the buildings, see it shining there and know it's her.  It doesn't hurt as much now, really.  It's still so bright I can barely look, but not as bad.  Never as bad as seeing her for real, having her touch my face and seeing that star falling from the sky.

She must have left such a big hole when she landed, dirt and fire everywhere.

I wrap my arms around my side, hunched over with my legs sprawled, and just watch, with the wind blowing and the clouds moving.  It's cold and maybe I should have brought a jacket, but I don't want to go inside and instead just sit, staring off where it's bright.

[Open]
[CLOSED]

Saturday, October 31st
Evening
The Whitechapel Inn

Day fades away, gone and forgotten, and all the little, smaller lights shine bright around town.  I can see them dancing outside the upstairs window, fire flashing one by one by one until there are stars in the streets and in the skies all coming together at once.  There's a big house far out, over the hills and past the darkness that's waiting at the edge of the candles, but I can't see that far away, even if I know it's there.  A big house with happy music and smiling faces behind sparkling masks, pretty dresses twirling around the floor, dancing and laughing and...

And it's not fair.  I'm better now.  I told Valmont that I was better now, my head doesn't even hurt inside, but he doesn't believe me.  I told Hermia that I'm a grown-up, almost fifteen, but she didn't believe me either.  Even when I asked nice as could be, eyes big and with all the pleases I could say, I still can't go to the fancy dress party.  Not fair at all.

I don't think Fiona is going, which makes me feel a little better.  But she's a little girl, not a big girl like me. 

Doors open and close downstairs, people leaving and heading out and talking together as they walk into the night.  Most everybody is going, I know, with just me left here by myself.  Mr. Adam is going to watch after me, Valmont said, and he's nice, but I'm still by myself, the only person that wants to go who isn't going.  Mr. Adam probably doesn't like parties anyway.

I slide from my chair at the window, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and pad out into the hallway.  At least my dress is pretty, new and clean and just for Sunday.  It's not Sunday, I know that it's Saturday, but I want to wear it and no one is here to tell me I can't, so there's nothing bad there.  The nice maskmaker in town gave me a mask of my own, too, all gold-colored and sparkles.  It reminds me of Fiona when I put it on, like I should have wings on my back and fireflies dancing in my hair, which makes me smile a little before I remember that I was supposed to be upset.

Down the stairs, only half way, and I sit down with my back to one wall and my feet pressed against the other.  Just.  Not.  Fair.

[Open to Gaueko]
[CLOSED]