Day 16: Burden, part 1

This story is gonna be looooonnggg. And awesome. And in 3rd person. So...Go me! Here's the first part, inspired by this picture:

There is a girl, will eyes like metal and lips so pale they almost don’t exist, with black hair that

looks like it’ brushed only with her fingers, with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. That girl’s name is Naira, and she holds the fate of the world in her hands. Everyday, she wakes up, sitting in a room, white and empty and full of hate, and she goes through her day, trying to ignore the small mahogany box on a pedestal in the middle of the room. Btu it gets harder with every day, and she’s the only one that knows. She keeps the secret from everyone in her school, in her dance class, everywhere. That is burden. But that’s not all. She knows she can’t tell anyone, or it will spread, and he will find out. That is a burden. That is a heavy, heavy, burden. Because she loves him, and if he knew that she was hiding the thing he’d been searching for his whole life. The world. Yes, a little tiny miniature version of the world hiding in a teenage girl’s bedroom. Scary: Yes, a little bit. Real: Oh, so, very real. So every day, she goes through the burden. Hugging the one she loves, Dante, and wishing she could give him the burden, but knowing why she can’t. This girl is the essence of strength, but also confusion. She knows why she has this gift that she calls hardship, but she ignores it. Every day, every morning, a morning like this one, with sun seeping into her white bedroom through the single window, only stained a little bit with blood, She lets her eyelids flutter closed. And, as if, re-living a dream, she remembers that dreadful day.

Her mother had told her never to come back, and Naira wasn’t planning on it. She wouldn't take the blame for murder, no matter who she was best friends with. But that's not what was important. She needed to meet the man who’d been talking to her, every day at 4:30. 4:30 was coming up fast, and she needed to be ready. Because today? He was giving her the gift, the one that needed to be protected, and if she failed, destroyed. He was giving her a miniature world. If someone else got ahold of this world, they could unleash it into this one, and all of everything would change. but the people on that world had no idea they lived here, on earth, that they could declare war at any time and use their growing plasma's to destroy each and every one of us. For some reason the man thought Naira was the one to protect them and the world. Maybe it was her eyes, like black metal. Not quite actually black, with a tint of blue, and had the keen ability to see in the dark. Maybe it was the fact that she never wore makeup, preferred her natural face, but was still extremely beautiful. She never really knew, but the man told her that she was the only one who could do this. So she checked her watch and sat behind the bus stop bench, as always, trying not to cry or to think about how she didn’t have a home.

“Naira.” Naira looks up, seeing the man in sunglasses and a red shirt. His face is shadowed by a large black fedora.

“Hi.” Naira whispers, her voice tight. “I’ve gotta tell you something. I’m turned out of a house and home.” Her voice was rushed, as if she needed to say it before it was too late. He nods.

“I know. I’ll find you a home, but I don’t have much time.” She nods, and pushes her tangled black hair out of her face, her eyes desperate. The man leans down, reaching into his satchel, and takes out a small mahogany box. “It’s here. You know what to do with it.” Naira nods and takes the box, her hands shaking. And the man got up, and he walked away.

Naira’s eyes open and she stands up, walking over to her white dresser and picking out a pair of worn jeans and a blue t-shirt with the words I’m the queen of the world written on it in block letters, and sequins speckled all over the shirt in green and brown. She gets dressed and walks out of her room into an identical one, except with a white chair against a white counter and a white microwave in the corner. Naira grabs an energy bar from a basket on the counter and runs out the front door of her tiny home with only two rooms. She’s never invited anyone over to it, never told anyone where she lived. But that’s for the best. It’s all for the best.

“It’s always for the best.” She mutters, biting angrily into her energy bar. “I’m tired of it being for the best.” And she walks into school.

“Naira!” A man’s voice calls. He’s running towards her, and in a moment, her towards him.

“Dante!” Naira screams, as if the name were ripped out of her mouth. They meet in the middle and embrace.

“I missed you.” He whispers. Naira smiles.

“I missed you more.” The two of them join hands and walk towards the classroom. “Spring break is long.” Naira says, and Dante smiles. Naira turns her face away from him for a moment and screams silently. I wish... She thinks, and the burden on her shoulders tries to knock her down. No.