The Star Maidens Curse (A Dark Adventure)

The Star Maidens Curse Chapter 2 - Mysterious Brothers

By the time I reached the gentle slope of hills flanking farmland twenty minutes later, I was gasping for breath.

I stopped to rest and tried to banish Dad's words from my mind. Needless to say, it didn't work. They swirled around, making me angrier by the second. I swallowed down the anger and tried to think logically instead.

It was easier for my father to ignore issues he was uncomfortable with than it was for him to talk to me about them. I could understand that I suppose, but then if he didn't want to discuss my visions, he should just keep quiet about them. That would be easier for everyone involved, but no, he had to have an opinion on everything and everyone had to know it.

Dad's reaction whenever I mentioned my visions was why I never spoke about them to anyone else. I knew I'd get the same response, so I'd learned to simply stay quiet. He had no real evidence for his theory, he would just tell me that people don't like people who are different. Especially those who they believe to be mentally different. It was a nice way of saying that people don't like crazies.

I wasn't sure then if it was true or not, but it made an impression on me, and that's why I never talked about my visions to anyone. As I grew older, I began to see the truth of my dad's words. A kid at my school got mercilessly bullied because she made the mistake of admitting she still believed in Santa Claus when she was around nine years old. Imagine what they would have done to me if they had learned what I believed.

For that reason, maybe I should thank him, but I sure didn't feel grateful for his harsh words right now.

I gazed around at the idyllic scenery. A dense blanket of clouds scuttled across the sky, blocking the morning sun. Sheep grazed in green fields bordered by hedgerows and woods. Horses gathered around the bales of hay they would eat for their breakfast. The freshness of the air mingled with the scent of fields and wildflowers.

Only a scattering of wind turbines ruined the view. The eyesores rose barely a quarter-mile away toward the gentle slope of a hill. On each tower, a trio of blades resembling propellers rotated quickly, red lights flashing like feral eyes. They had always intimidated me, especially at night.

I sat down and opened my portfolio. Whenever the vision became too vivid, I liked to be alone and lose myself in these hills and my sketchbook. The openness always seemed to ease the turmoil inside of me. It's hard to be angry when you're surrounded by such tranquillity.  I flicked through the pages until I found a blank sheet and began to fill it rapidly with images from the vision. 

The images had never really left me and it was easy to recall the blazing stars that had swam around me. I relaxed and let my hand take over, putting the images down on the paper. At first, my hand moved in gentle strokes, lightly shading the page, but the urgency grew as the image formed and my hand flew back and forth across the page until all eleven stars sat there in all of their glory.

I looked up into the sky as I searched myself for further inspiration. The picture before me was just a page filled with stars. It didn't convey the emotion I had felt; the power, the pain. I bit my lip and thought and then I reached for a yellow coloured pencil and began adding warmth to the stars. Then I reached for the blue and added harsh lines to bring the feeling of cold horror that sat beneath the warm glow.

A drop of cold rain fell on my head and dribbled all the way down my face. Wiping the drip away, I looked at the dark clouds forming in the sky. Maybe it would have been smarter if I had stayed closer to home today. But then, I would still have been an angry mess, and I didn't want that, especially now Dad had gone. Isn't that the first rule of therapy? Not projecting your anger onto the wrong person? I don't know, but I feel like I read that in psychology class once.