Author's Note: Just another Mystique story, no one ever said her life was a
pleasant one.
*^*^*^*^*^*
'It had seemed like such a good idea at the time,'
This thought had circled round my head for hours and hours as I crouched there, trembling in the cold, damp, dark.
I couldn't see very well in the dark yet, that came later on with the other parts, all I could see was a little bit of light coming in through the floorboards.
Why had I done it? Why? Both my mother and several of my teachers had told me not to, that it was dangerous.
'It had seemed like such a good idea at the time,'
I froze when I heard voices coming from upstairs. The voices were moving, getting closer, coming back for me.
The door to the cellar opened, a figure was silhouetted in the light from the house. I tried to scramble away, but I was so small and he was too fast.
It had been three days since he had first put me down in the cellar, three days since I had seen the sun. He carried me-kicking and screaming- into a trailer used for horses when they had to transport the livestock to different states by car.
He hit me to make me stop crying-which of course only made it worse- and then locked me inside. The truck started and we drove for a really long time. It was really hot, and the metal of the trailer burned my skin when I moved. I had to sit still, but the road was bumpy.
The ride finally stopped, but I didn't know where we were. I was tired. I was hungry. My mother was going to save me from this bad man soon, wasn't she?
I hoped so hard that she would, I just wanted to go home.
The man took me to a cage. A cage. It was meant for something else, maybe a really big dog or a young black bear, but not me! Surely not me, I'm just a little girl, I didn't do anything to you! Please, please don't put me in!
I'll be good, I promise!
I know I'm ugly and strange, but look at this! I'll make the blue go away, see?!
The man ignored me and threw me inside. The man left, and left me alone again. It wasn't until my tears dried on my scaly little face that I thought to look around.
My cage was on a small wheeled cart, the cart was in a wooden circle with straw on the floor, and a few rows of seats were set in front of me.
I was alone, trapped and alone.
I hated the man for tricking me.
I should have known, I'm so stupid! He tricked me on purpose, when I had never done a thing to him; I'd never done anything to anyone! But still they came, with their signs and their tomatoes, my mother would cry all the time and so would I.
My principal told my mother that maybe it'd be best if I stayed home for awhile, just until all the commotion died down.
He wasn't pretending like we had a choice.
After a few weeks, the protesters left, the news cameras left, and though the townspeople weren't friendly anymore, no one really bothered me too much.
I was still so young, having just entered the second grade. I was smart, but not smart enough to distinguish between a lie and a truth told to me by an adult.
Still not welcome back at school, there was little for me to do around the house. During all this time, I was grateful that our little farm was so far away from the rest of the town. The "outskirts", as some would call it, though I didn't know what that word meant at the time.
My mother was still sleeping in her room while I was relaxing on the porch swing. I had woken up early, made myself some muffins in the oven and gotten dressed. I was just thinking to myself how mature and smart I was, how supreme in all my glory of mixing milk and muffin mix and using the oven without incident. I was a muffin-making god.
Arrogance had been my first mistake. Trusting someone who hadn't earned it was my last.
I was looking down at my left arm, which at that point was a light blue, trying to pick off the light dusting of scales that peppered the back of my hand and forearm. It was so hard to believe that the news cameras came just to get pictured of my left arm, shoulder and part of my back.
They were light blue with just a little scaling. The rest of my body had scales too; they were just the same color as my skin.
"Hey there, can you help me out?"
I turned around to find a man in my yard, on my side of the fence. Was he here to yell at me about my blue arm too?
"Yeah?" I asked, growing ever more curious about why he was here.
"I lost my dog, well, she's a puppy actually." He said.
"A puppy?" I-like all kids, any age, everywhere-loved puppies almost as much as candy.
"Yeah, she's a sweet little thing. A baby golden retriever. Chubby, fluffy, really cuddly looking puppy. Say, I'm new in town, and I still don't know my way around. Could you help me look for her?"
Find a puppy? A chubby, fluffy, cuddly golden retriever puppy?
How long did I have to think about that?!
Hoping to play with a puppy that didn't exist, and still on my muffin- making high, I leapt at the opportunity.
'It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.'
*^*^*^*^*^*
'It had seemed like such a good idea at the time,'
This thought had circled round my head for hours and hours as I crouched there, trembling in the cold, damp, dark.
I couldn't see very well in the dark yet, that came later on with the other parts, all I could see was a little bit of light coming in through the floorboards.
Why had I done it? Why? Both my mother and several of my teachers had told me not to, that it was dangerous.
'It had seemed like such a good idea at the time,'
I froze when I heard voices coming from upstairs. The voices were moving, getting closer, coming back for me.
The door to the cellar opened, a figure was silhouetted in the light from the house. I tried to scramble away, but I was so small and he was too fast.
It had been three days since he had first put me down in the cellar, three days since I had seen the sun. He carried me-kicking and screaming- into a trailer used for horses when they had to transport the livestock to different states by car.
He hit me to make me stop crying-which of course only made it worse- and then locked me inside. The truck started and we drove for a really long time. It was really hot, and the metal of the trailer burned my skin when I moved. I had to sit still, but the road was bumpy.
The ride finally stopped, but I didn't know where we were. I was tired. I was hungry. My mother was going to save me from this bad man soon, wasn't she?
I hoped so hard that she would, I just wanted to go home.
The man took me to a cage. A cage. It was meant for something else, maybe a really big dog or a young black bear, but not me! Surely not me, I'm just a little girl, I didn't do anything to you! Please, please don't put me in!
I'll be good, I promise!
I know I'm ugly and strange, but look at this! I'll make the blue go away, see?!
The man ignored me and threw me inside. The man left, and left me alone again. It wasn't until my tears dried on my scaly little face that I thought to look around.
My cage was on a small wheeled cart, the cart was in a wooden circle with straw on the floor, and a few rows of seats were set in front of me.
I was alone, trapped and alone.
I hated the man for tricking me.
I should have known, I'm so stupid! He tricked me on purpose, when I had never done a thing to him; I'd never done anything to anyone! But still they came, with their signs and their tomatoes, my mother would cry all the time and so would I.
My principal told my mother that maybe it'd be best if I stayed home for awhile, just until all the commotion died down.
He wasn't pretending like we had a choice.
After a few weeks, the protesters left, the news cameras left, and though the townspeople weren't friendly anymore, no one really bothered me too much.
I was still so young, having just entered the second grade. I was smart, but not smart enough to distinguish between a lie and a truth told to me by an adult.
Still not welcome back at school, there was little for me to do around the house. During all this time, I was grateful that our little farm was so far away from the rest of the town. The "outskirts", as some would call it, though I didn't know what that word meant at the time.
My mother was still sleeping in her room while I was relaxing on the porch swing. I had woken up early, made myself some muffins in the oven and gotten dressed. I was just thinking to myself how mature and smart I was, how supreme in all my glory of mixing milk and muffin mix and using the oven without incident. I was a muffin-making god.
Arrogance had been my first mistake. Trusting someone who hadn't earned it was my last.
I was looking down at my left arm, which at that point was a light blue, trying to pick off the light dusting of scales that peppered the back of my hand and forearm. It was so hard to believe that the news cameras came just to get pictured of my left arm, shoulder and part of my back.
They were light blue with just a little scaling. The rest of my body had scales too; they were just the same color as my skin.
"Hey there, can you help me out?"
I turned around to find a man in my yard, on my side of the fence. Was he here to yell at me about my blue arm too?
"Yeah?" I asked, growing ever more curious about why he was here.
"I lost my dog, well, she's a puppy actually." He said.
"A puppy?" I-like all kids, any age, everywhere-loved puppies almost as much as candy.
"Yeah, she's a sweet little thing. A baby golden retriever. Chubby, fluffy, really cuddly looking puppy. Say, I'm new in town, and I still don't know my way around. Could you help me look for her?"
Find a puppy? A chubby, fluffy, cuddly golden retriever puppy?
How long did I have to think about that?!
Hoping to play with a puppy that didn't exist, and still on my muffin- making high, I leapt at the opportunity.
'It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.'