Part 2

2008-02-18T19:41:00.001+08:00

I am a statue. I pause to let the words sink in. I am made from cold unfeeling stone. Pushed up from the Earth's bosom at a tender age. Quarried, measured, carved. No! I feel alive, my muscles seem taut with barely repressed energy. Any moment, I could pounce. I look across the room. The wooden turtle looks back at me reproachfully, as if to say, Stop deluding yourself. You're as alive as me. We are one and the same.
I try to shake my head. It doesn't happen. I try to close my eyes, to blot out the rose wood blight. It doesn't happen. I strain. I can almost imagine some movement, but I know it's not real.
What am I?
You are an ebony cat statue. Life sized, but still a statue.
No! I know what I am!
Then prove it.
The voices in my head taunt me. I cannot blot them out.
I try casting my mind back. Could have been a curse. Somehow I know about curses. I try to remember.
The sand. It is everywhere. The heat almost washes away the stink of men and animals. I hear shouts, a voice close, but out of my field of vision. He speaks to someone. They talk about a temple, of Bast, and how he must hurry. He leaves. I hear the thump of tools on a table. I hear a crash.
The crash brings me back. It sounded too close, too real, to belong to the realm of memories. The surroundings come into focus. It is still midday. I do not know how much time has passed, but I know it is not the same day where I gained consciousness. Two men were in the room. They talk in loud whispers. I watch as the taller one pulls out a drawer.
"Slim pickings here," he says, rummaging through the drawer and tossing some trinkets into a beaten looking backpack. He is clad simply, a pair of faded blue jeans with a dirty white shirt. His partner, an older, heavier man, is dressed in well worn blue overalls. He squats beside the side table, and goes through its contents.
"Agreed. You'd expect more from such a fancy neighbourhood."
"You know what they say about folks who live in rich neighbourhoods!" laughs White Shirt.
They share a chuckle and return to their pilfering.
I bristle. I want to pounce on them and tear their soft flesh into pieces, but nothing moves.
Minutes pass, there is suddenly the all too familiar sound of the main door opening. The two interlopers, wrapped in their plundering, fail to notice the sound. Emma appears at the entrance. She is busy rummaging her bag to notice that she is not alone. Both men freeze and look at her.
"Oh my, where did I put my..." she looks up at this moment and notices them. Her mouth forms an O of surprise and her hand flies to her mouth, dropping her keys to the carpeted floor with dull thump.
The noise is all it takes to break the men out of their paralysis.
"Get her!" Overalls yells. They both spring up towards her. Emma turns to flee, but White Shirt catches her arm and whirls her painfully around.
"You're not getting away, bitch," he growls.
"Let go of me!" Emma cries, struggling to free herself.
I watch, impotent. Oh how I want to rise up and tear her attackers into pieces. I feel my body tense and coil up in its unfeeling shell, but nothing happens.
I watch as White Shirt, afraid of her cries, lift up a heavy wooden totem she had brought home some time ago and cudgel her with it. I watch as her cries turn into whimpers and finally silence.
"Ok... So what are we going to do now?" Overalls is sweating. He is looking at the crumpled, bloody form at his feet.
White Shirt drops the bloodied object onto the ground. It lands with a dull thud.
"We're going to get life for this!" Overalls continues, his voice high pitched from fear. "Damn you! You shouldn't have killed her!"
"I'm not going back... There again, you fool," snarls the other. "You think she wouldn't have called the cops?"
Overalls looks confused and starts to babble to himself. He stinks from fear. I swore to kill them, there and then. No matter what it would take, no matter the cost, I wanted to tear their throats out. Feel their fear, taste their life blood gushing out.
"Follow me," White Shirt says suddenly.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"We need to get rid of the body, you fool. Surely they'll have waste disposal bags somewhere. Now help me find it or I'm leaving you here."
Overalls whimpers at that, but follows him out of the room.

The Beginning

2008-02-11T19:58:00.000+08:00

Awareness came suddenly, it was as though the veil had lifted, and light was streaming through. Bright light flooded everywhere, I blinked and tried to turn away, but the light remained. Slowly though, I started to discern some shapes . They started off as indistinguishable blobs but slowly sharpened as time went by. Noise too, flooded into my world.
Time went on. The blobs slowly resolved themselves, and I could see what they were. I could have sworn that I've never seen such creatures before, but something in me knows what they are... Humans. Clarity filled my world, as though the veil had finally been torn away. I was in a room, furnished in English trappings. Light peeked from thick curtains adorning two tall windows. Before me was a large and comfortable looking sofa, with its requisite coffee table. Two white hooded table lamps provided a soft homely yellow glow. Throughout the room, figurines of animals in varying shapes and sizes sat on the tables, some of the larger ones squatted on the floor. Voices flooded into my consciousness as the humans spoke. The male was leaning against the sill. As I watched him, he turned towards me and gave me a disparaging look. "How many times have I told you", he said to the female sitting calmly on the sofa, "not to buy these things anymore. What good are they? Just dust gatherers. We haven't even paid our bills last month."
The lady flipped a page in her book. "He didn't cost much, Billy. He looked so lonely and uncared for in the shop. How could I leave him there?
The man named Billy rolled his eyes. He stalked over to me and put his palm on my head. I wanted to growl, to flatten my ears. But nothing happened.
"See how regal he looks," she said, coming towards me. "I couldn't in good conscience leave him where he was. In his time, he was most likely a god, cared for most delicately by the Egyptians."
Billy snorted. "Emma, the only ones who cared for him were most likely the child workers in a factory in some obscure province in China." With that, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. His footsteps ceased after the unmistakable thump of a closing door. Emma sighed and patted my head gently, her blue eyes looking sad.
"I believe," she said, bending slightly to be at eye level. "That everything about you is true, from your regal poise, your demeanor, your spirit..." She turned away, hugging herself through her shawl. "Oh who am I kidding," she continued. "Billy was right... We need money, we'll be on the streets in a month if we don't pay up." She turned back to me and regarded me. "Still, the fates let us meet... I'm sure there's a reason." She patted me again. "Well, enjoy the afternoon, my ebony cat, I'll see you at dinner." With that, she walked out of the room. I tried to crane my neck, but nothing happened.
What am I? I thought to myself. She had called me an ebony cat... A glimmer caught the corner of my eye and I struggled to bring it to focus. I could just discern part of a cat's face, ebony coloured. I saw an ear, triangular, tilted slightly forward. A muzzle, engraved with the symbols of power. All were ebony. Ebony stone.

Palindrone .... for droners only

Part 2

The Beginning