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Ielta's Story Chapter Two |
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Whispering. Everywhere was whispering. Even in her sleep. Before, it had been the sleep of her brothers and sisters which had nourished her, lulled her, kept her dreams safe. The safety of being snuggled up against her mother's side, or her father's as he twitched in dreams much like her own. The soothing rise and fall of ten other small sides surrounding her, the peaceful sound of breathing on all sides protecting her. Now there was just the whispering. And it filled even her dreams. "What is it?" she asked, sitting in the dark room filled with pinpoints of light. An empty room, just the little dangling, dancing lights. She couldn't see the walls, but she knew they were there. Another whisper. "What did you say?" There was something important being said, something crucial. She didn't know what it was, but she knew it was important. And she couldn't hear it! Another. "I can't hear you! Speak up!" It was so frustrating! Why didn't they just talk normally? If it was so important, why couldn't they talk so she could understand? They're all waiting. She made out those words, and whirled, trying to find which pinpoint of light had spoken them. "Waiting? For what?" Waiting for you. She couldn't tell which one it was, so she spun again, trying to address them all. "Why me? Why me?" Another whisper she couldn't make out. "Why won't you just speak up??" she cried, swiping at the nearest dangling, danging light with a forepaw. It danced out of her reach, and the whispering increased tenfold, a hundredfold, a crowd, veritable chorus of whispers, all running over the top of each other so that none made any sense. Whimpering, she put her head under her paws, trying to hold her ears shut, squeezing her eyes shut against the spotted darkness. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening, I'm not listening," she told them over and over again. Over and over again. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening, I'm not listening!" Over and over. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening!" Over. "I'm not--" Without warning, lights winked out, whispers turned into shouts, and in utter, unreasoning terror, Ielta leapt from her bed with a screech and fled. But there was nowhere to flee to! She ran three whole circuit of her bedroom, panting and wide-eyed, before the door finally opened as she sped past and she darted out of it, very nearly skidding and falling but for pinprick claws digging into carpet. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening, I'm not listening!" she cried, but she couldn't cover her ears and run at the same time. ::Ielta?:: "I'm not listening, I'm not listening!" ::Ielta!:: "I'M NOT LISTENING!" Something slammed into her, sending her tumbling into a wall. Into a corner. Wedged into the tiny space between a chair and a wall. Huddled there, trembling, staring unseeing at dark shapes and bright shapes that hovered around her hiding place. Waiting. Waiting for her. Waiting waiting waiting for-- "I'm not listening, I'm not listening, I'm not...." Some of the whispers that she was so studiously not listening to solidified into something she could understand. "What did you do?" ::I just hit her with a little wind. She was running wild, going to run into something.:: Not listening, not listening, not listening. "Suns' rest, Zamah, you frightened her." ::She was already frightened. Couldn't you hear her shrieking?:: Not listening, not listening. "What in the world would she be frightened of?" ::A nightmare, maybe?:: Not listening. "Ielta, child... you're all right. Nothing's going to hurt you." ::Sorry I scared you, but you were gonna hurt yourself.:: "Not listening," she choked, squeezing her eyes shut against the light that tried to invade her hiding place. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Not listening. "Ielta, start listening. Listen to me, not anything else. You know me. You know you're safe with me." Not listening. "You've had a fright. You were dreaming. It's all right now, you're safe now." Not listening. "You know me, Ielta, you know I won't hurt you. No one in this house will hurt you, or allow you to be hurt. It was just a dream, Ielta. Come out now, Ielta." Not-- --listening? The roaring whispering abruptly vanished, and Ielta's eyes popped open. "Z-zab-beth," she stuttered. She was still shaking, her teeth clenched painfully. The word trembled, too. The flame-wreathed face gazed down at her. "Yes, Ielta. It's just me." "They were waiting for me--" "It was just a dream." "I didn't want to listen--" "It's over now." "I-- I just didn't want to--" "It's all right. You're all right. Can you come out now?" Somehow she managed to wriggle herself unstuck and slunk out from the tiny hole she'd managed to wedge herself into when Zamah-aisi's invisible wind struck her. The room was lit now: someone had turned the lights on. The hum of electricity made her fur bristle. Whispers whispers whispers and hums-- Everyone else in the apartment was peering into the living room from the hallway. Peta-mari's vibrant coat seemed even brighter than before. Ceremeth and Ziar were shadows, ghosts. Zamah-aisi peered curiously over Zabeth's shoulder. Zabeth's flames were licking the floor, harmlessly, but strongly. "I-- I'm sorry," Ielta gulped. "I didn't-- I didn't mean to--" ::You just had a bad dream,:: Ceremeth's cool, calm voice told her, reassuring despite it's stillness. "I couldn't understand them, they wanted me to understand but I couldn't, I didn't want to--" She snapped her muzzle shut, took a shaky breath, and buried her face in her paws. Someone picked her up-- someone with tickling flames that made her shiver-- and settled her in the crook of an arm. "Poor chick," Zabeth soothed. "Sleep with me tonight. Maybe there will be less bad dreams." "Maybe," she mumbled, and buried herself in feathers and flames that didn't do anything but tickle. |
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Ielta's Story |