Confusion, Abduction and Darkness
Prologue:
A sleek, black limousine slides up to a pub, in a slimy alleyway. A tall woman gets out, her emerald high heels clicking on the concrete. “You wanted to see me,” she says this, in such a ghastly manner, that makes you want to run away and never speak to her again. A man appears walking up to her, coming from the direction of a shadowy corner in the alley. Upon his head is a black top-hat, the one that old-fashioned magicians used to wear. His long, greasy trench-coat drags across the floor as he walks towards the lady. On the lady’s chest are the letters C I T Y inside a golden crest, the man’s crest was silver. “We must have her,” booms the man commandingly. The woman sighs, “If we must.”
Part 1:
Maria realised something very important that day waiting for the bus. It was that if the bus doesn’t come, RING YOUR GRANDPARENTS! But instead Maria just stood there, getting extremely bored. She stared gloomily down the street, and realised another important fact; every road, alley, place, and avenue in Portville were all the same as the one she was looking at now. They were all lined with the now familiar black and white brick patterned buildings. All the windows were either bordered up, taped up or not there. Portville was the emptiest town in the world. Imagine the Earth, all the brilliant blue oceans and seas, the open luscious meadows and valleys, and in the corner of New Australia is dusty, shabby Portville. Portville was like the starting point of an infection, about to spread and disastrously affect the body, the world.
Maria’s blond hair sat on her shoulders, with a slight wave at the end. Her green eyes sparkled each time the bulb on top of the lamp post flickered on. They needed electrical lights because the sun was always behind the clouds, at least only in Portville. Maria had never seen the sunlight, she had seen it described in books, but she had never felt the heat rays bounce off her, or seen it rise and set in the distance. Everyone said the sun was a hot colossal giant. She wondered if it really was.
Maria just stood there staring, waiting. Waiting for something. She did not yet know what that something was, but she knew it was something worth waiting for. Whether it affected her life in a good or bad way, she knew her future would bring something better than what was happening now.
A charcoal-black limousine pulled up next to her, the headlights glinted dangerously like the eyes of a devil approaching an angel. Maria watched two men, who looked like black storm troopers, get out of the limo. Maria catches sight of a crimson crest upon the chest plate of the man on her right, bearing the letters C I T Y. The man on her left’s crest was broccoli green, saying the same thing. If you took a photo of that scene, you would realise that the thing that stood out the most were the colourful C I T Y crests.
Maria’s body stiffened as two more figures shakily climbed out of the limo. Their hunched backs and grey hair looked extremely familiar to Maria. Suddenly her breath stopped. A scream was rising in her throat, but it wasn’t coming out. It was like it stopped right at the top of the wind pipe. Then everything went black.
Part 2:
Pain, thoughts and darkness. These were the only things that occupied Maria. At the start everything was blurry, and pitch black, but by now, her eyes had gotten used to the stuffy darkness. It wasn’t just her eyes; her brain had cleared as well. It was like her brain was a grimy, old window, and then the window cleaner came and everything cleared up. God, she could kiss the window cleaner right now.
She began to feel around, to take in her surroundings. She guessed she was in the back of a car, for every so often, she bounced and her head hit the ceiling, like it would when you were riding in a car without a seat-belt. The area she was in, was about a three by three metre square, and in the corner, was some rope. It smelt of rotting fish. The vehicle Maria believed she was inside was driving full pelt over potholes, speed-bumps and was zooming through traffic lights.
Suddenly, there was a tingling sensation in her left arm, Maria’s lips turned into an ‘O’ shape, as her arm began to glow. Afterwards, everyone told her glowing limbs was just a side-effect of being ‘found’, and that nothing else came with it, but for her, after a minute of staring dumbfounded at her incandescent arm, the pain had started to build up. This was a complete shock to her system. Maria had always thought that everything could be described, but at that precise moment, nothing could describe how painful her glowing left arm had become.
Maria tried many ways to forget about the pain; she tried tying the rope up into a ball, and practised chucking it up into the air and catching it; she tried asking herself questions yet to be answered, like ‘why were her grandparents in the limo’ and ‘who were those weird armoured guys’, she even tried counting the screws in the wall she was leaning against. Whatever she tried to distract herself with, failed abysmally. She just couldn’t remove the thought of pain from her head. If pain had feelings, then her pain would really want to stay in her body, and annoy and nag her all day.
Maria finally found her excuse to forget about the pain, she realised that she had stopped moving. The wall she was leaning on opened out, like a door. Sunlight flooded in through them, it was the first time she had seen the sunlight, and she was delighted. It was beautiful, like in the stories. Finally, the golden rays of light were shining on her.
And they were shining on her, literally and metaphorically. “Maria Montgomery!” someone yelled on a loud-speaker. Then, something roared. Maria was frightened out of her wits; she thought the roaring thing was a lion. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to fight a lion, like in the times of Roman gladiators, she shuddered.
It wasn’t a lion. It was a crowd, a massive crowd, bigger than any crowd at any pop singer’s concert. They were roaring, cheering, yelling at Maria, and she had no idea why. In the crowd there were people holding up signs bearing the letters C I T Y. Something about that letter combination striked Maria as familiar. Then she remembered; C I T Y was on the chests of the storm-trooper-look-alikes. She wondered if there was a connection, also wondered what C I T Y standed for.
She did a full circle, to take everything in. On both her sides were black limousines, all lined up. There were figures, like her, with hair ruffled and dirty faces from spending the day in a limousine, and with the person on the loud-speaker yelling out their names. She was glad she wasn’t the only one who was suffering from confused despair.
A lady wearing emerald high heels was walking up behind each of the children; she seemed to be whispering something in their ears. It made them fall over. Maria wondered if the lady had charmspeak, she hoped she didn’t. Maria tried to run, tried to get away from this world of torment, she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins, but she wasn’t moving. The tall lady stalked up behind her. “Finally, we found you,” she whispered, in a husky, ghastly voice. The lady inserted a needle into Maria’s shoulder. Maria’s last thought before she blacked out was, “No, charmspeak wasn’t the reason those poor kids fell over, they were drugged, like me. Where am I?”
Part 3:
Maria woke up inside a small bedroom, every decoration in the room was cream or white, even though the room was plain, it had a type of beauty that many designers envy. Her favourite bit of the room was the pearly white curtains on the window, and the sunlight that shone through them. “Oh, the sun. If only I could pick it up and put it in a jar, and take it with me everywhere I go. If only…” Maria says to no-one in particular. “Yeah, but that’s not really possible,” a squeaky voice said. Maria sat up.
A small chubby girl with huge round glasses, frizzy red hair, and shiny metal braces is staring at her. “I’m Eliza, it is my utter pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Eliza says. Her voice is extremely squeaky, it sounds like a car’s tyres when it skids on the road. “I’m-I’m Maria,” Maria stuttered, still gobsmacked. She hoped Eliza hadn’t seen her making triangles with her fingers, or heard talking about capturing a yellow gas giant. Maria had always acted like a cool person, she played footy, she was funny, but inside she was a bit of a crazy girl. That is why Maria hated it when people saw her being herself, she was embarrassed by it.
Maria tucked her gold hair behind her ear, she didn’t remove her sea-green eyes from the pale blue ones across the room. “So,” Maria says, trying (and failing) to disturb the awkward silence. Eliza succeeded, however. “So, do you like it here?”
“I’m sorry, but where is here?” Maria asks, stunned that she was asked that particular question. “Here, Maria, the School of the Clever Intellectual and Talented Youths,” Eliza replies. Clever, Intellectual, Talented, Youths. The words drifted around Maria’s mind like puzzle pieces working out ways to connected. Then they connect. C I T Y was an acronym for the School of the Clever, Intellectual and Talented Youths.
“So am I safe?” Maria asks the helpful red-head opposite her. “Yes,” Eliza says comfortingly, “and don’t worry about your grandparents, they gave permission for you to come here. For some reason the chief persisted that you come. She was so glad when they found you. Everyone could tell that her attitude became brighter when you tumbled out of the limousine.” Wow, Maria realised that Eliza was optimistic and very talkative, the complete opposite of Maria.
“So, welcome,” Eliza says, trying to cheer up the gloom. “I am your roommate, this is one of the three huts in the Juniors Village of Grade 1 Girls, and my first job is to take you to your home room, please follow me.” The little ladies stand and proceed to walk out the bedroom door.
Outside her room, Maria stands and waits, while Eliza locks the door, and for the first time she realises she is wearing a white silk gown. Maria groans, she hates dresses, and white is not her colour. Where have the ripped jeans, gothic T-shirts and the black nail polish gone? “Come on, you’ll get what you want when we get to your home-room,” Eliza whispers. The girls walk down a smooth wooden spiral-staircase, and out through a curved archway.
Maria breathes in the fresh air; it smells sweet, like honey. Children were running from cabin to cabin, playing games. Maria looked left and looked right. Little houses are lined like soldiers along a gravel path, running through the centre of the small village. Maria did not know why she didn’t make a run for it, now that she was out in the open, but an invisible force of curiosity made her stay.
Eliza began to walk towards a large building at the end of the gravel walkway, her flabby legs wobbled from side to side as she did so. Maria follows her. The twosome arrive at the exquisite wooden mansion. The delicate carvings in the walls and railings represent old fairy tales, like Little Red Riding Hood, and Hansel and Gretel. Eliza lifts a huge metal dragon-shaped knocker on the oak doors, and knocks three, loud booming knocks and waits. A tall lady wearing emerald high heels opens the massive doors. “Aah, thank you Eliza, I see you have brought a new comer, please, both of you, come in.” she says. “Hullo, chief,” Eliza says admiringly. The two enter.
Maria stares, amazed at the beauty and wonder of this magical building. It is pretty much an oversized library; perfectly carved wooden bookshelves lined the walls. Thousands upon thousands of books were stacked high on the shelves. The books were ranged from History to Science and to, best of all, Fiction.
Books, magic and beauty. This is where Maria belongs. Maria is officially a Clever, Intellectual, and Talented Youth.