Tell Them I Am is Here Part One: I Am Prophecy
I am prophecy.
The words drifted into her head, Vixen’s first thought upon waking. She stretched and rolled over. A teenager, waking was the roughest part of her day. Dozens of thoughts danced in and out of her head. A melancholy breakfast with her mom, answers she studied for her Space Settlement History test, a battle in Trade Landing, new music from her favorite Taurusian band, the end of the Universe, befriending the next Emperor of Man. Some thoughts gray and misty, not likely to happen. Some nearly clear, like a memory from yesterday. A few confusing, emotions she had not been exposed to. Friendship with Osantos going in directions her body nearly understood, but felt uncomfortable. The kissing part … she tried to chase down the thought before the next group of words sliced through her mind, shattering her peace.
I am history.
Mankind, war and wonder, the first self-aware thought of an ape, the first killing in anger, looking down on the tiny cradle planet, the thousand ships leaping to the far reaches. Hate, pain, love, joy, reason, insanity, tears, laughter … each hit her, stabbed her. No misty thoughts, but real, fixed, unchangeable situations. Victory, horror … More than her young mind could handle. Pushing her further and further until something in her twisted. Snapped. Awoke.
I am now.
A final scream tore from Vixen as she threw her blankets back and sat up. She had been screaming for some time.
“No, …no,” her ruined voice pleaded as she jumped off the mattress and ran to the mirror.
The reflection showed black eyes, pupils expanding to swallow green irises then the surrounding white. Streaks of color, light, danced back and forth between her slightly slanted eyes as they became a deeper dark than night. Veins went from a mild green to deep blue as her body optimized oxygen usage creating a stark red and blue map vivid against her cream and peaches complexion. Vixen’s hyperventilation quickly dropped to a rate not found among homo sapiens.
“Maker, no.” Her melodic voice restored danced upon her ears with new tones, making her sob. Between tears she begged, “I don’t want to die.”
(words 363, first published 4/4/14; republished new blog format 9/1/19)