Sunday, May 26, 2013

Anna Zinaida: You Forgot Me Long Ago

IN THE PAST BUT QUITE A BIT LATER IN THE PAST THAN PREVIOUS CHAPTERS THAT HAVE BEEN SET IN THE PAST:
     Anna rolled out of bed silently, so as not to let the intruder hear. She quickly slipped on her bullet-proof jacket (and with it, several knives and other weapons of various sorts (not all of them typically thought of as weapons, but useful all the same).
     Hearing the intruder on the stairs now, Anna  darted to the dresser and grabbed the box with the right half of the spectacles, placing another small jewelry box where it had been. She made the bed quickly, so it didn't look like she'd rushed out, but rather that she hadn't slept there at all.
     She heard the breath just outside the door and slid the window open, hoping she wasn't too late. The wind blew her hair back out of her face, disrupting her hearing, and leaving her to slip out the window as fast as she could and hope that nothing in the room had been disturbed.
     She climbed into the tree which was the reason she slept where she did, the escape route. Anna tucked the box under her arm and began climbing her way down the sturdy cedar. She stopped in the shadows of her house, scanning the street for any signs of danger. Deciding it was about as safe as it could get (she had her best knife, after all), Anna darted across the part of her front yard illuminated by the street light,
     She didn't notice the person watching her from the dark window across the street, making sure she had the box, and then slipping out into the night after her.

     The riot leader spoke passionately, painting a vivid picture of that dreaded word, Communists, and invoking the names of several town council members, each of them, coincidentally, people that stood in his way. Most of the rabble in the crowd, he knew, were simply trouble-makers, and didn't particularly care who they burned, Communist or not. Just enough to make the more intelligent of the mob believe this was justified...

    The sky opened up and rain began to pour, cold, hard, heavy droplets that stung Effie's face as she tried to keep up with the dark shape in front of her. Her hair was seriously going to frizz after this. She had to get the other half of the spectacles, though, had to see. She'd given in to the whispers, the convincing conspiring voice that kept telling her she could see secrets. Maybe she could see how her brother died, and why her mother hated her. Maybe she could finally understand...

     Anna drew to a halt as she saw the crowd, yelling and waving torches (A/N: Torch doesn't mean the same thing as flashlight here, I am American) in the air. They started off in the direction of the mayor's house, screaming and trampling over each other to be the one to light the first fire. It was sickening, the way the entire mob moved like a puppet, under the control of some orator or other.
     She shouldn't have taken the moment to think those thoughts, she should've used the crowd to hide, to disappear. She probably could've made sure she wasn't trampled. Unfortunately, she only realized this when the dagger pierced her from behind.
     She gasped for breath, and whirled around, the dagger slicing through what was probably another vital organ. She reached behind her, trying to pull it out, but her hands were too slick with her own blood. The next option was to bring her attacker down with her, then. She looked up and raised her fist, ready to smash someone's skull, but it was...
   
     Effie looked down at the blood on her hands, and understood how Lady Macbeth went insane. "I did it for...spectacles," she muttered in disgust. Anna didn't seem to hear. She didn't seem hurt or surprised, either, which stung Effie inside. Just a little, all she would admit to.  Anna was used to the world of shadows, secrets, lies, betrayal, an expert on hiding emotions. Maybe she really had cared about Effie and really was upset, maybe not, maybe she was like Mrs. Williams. Maybe she was just too busy dying.
     What have I done? Eff thought, what's the point of it all? She felt her mentor's pulse, very faint, but still there. Effie wouldn't be the one to deliver the killing blow. She picked up her thankfully petite mentor and took the box out of the dying spy's pocket. The reason why she'd done the 022230300450 deed in the first place. The riot crowd was coming back this way, and Effie pulled the dagger out of her mentor's back. She tossed Anna into the fray, so it would seem like she was simply trampled, an accidental victim of the mob, which in the end, she was. The police picked up Anna's body with the other riot casualties, and no one ever knew the truth, Effie never told a soul,

     She stood alone on top of the cliff that overlooked he harbor, humming slightly to herself as the wind blew her hair back and she watched the waves, at peace...sort of. The two spectacle halves were still in her jacket pocket, and she took them out and examined them for a long while.

     It wasn't worth it.

     Eff brought her arm up fast, and the left half of the spectacles flew into the sea, before she could think better or worse of it. It was better, though, she believed that enough not to venture after it. She couldn't make herself get rid of the other half, though. It stayed with her, haunting her, calling her, reminding her of her terrible mistake. She would not make a mistake like that again,


(A/N: ................)

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