Alejandra Larissa Omayra
Juan Diego Cáceres
"If you are reading this story on any other platform other than Wattpad you're very likely to be at risk of a malware attack. If you wish to read this story in its original, safe, form, please go to Wattp...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
They'd started with the freedom of laughter nine summers back, giving him the gift of marking time, where before he'd been lost in it. Not that he'd been awake for the greater part of these past summers. No, sleep had still claimed him, but not as deep as before. The moments of lucidity were increasing.
Before. An empty shroud of time stood mastery in his mind over that. He knew centuries had passed in that before, just not how many. In the last summers he'd once again dreamt. Dreaming so vividly that his mind sometimes fooled him into believing he'd lived those summers. Time that had made him someone none he knew would recognise.
Was anyone he knew still alive to know him?
He'd come to himself to the sound of her voice, her laughter. So free. Watched, unseen, unknown, as she dared life to bar her way and came out victorious. He could still remember the sweet ache that had overtaken him with his first sight of her. Wild, free. A child no more than a year younger than he was, if he could still claim his age.
In nine circles of the seasons she'd blossomed into a stunning beauty, bringing with her his own growth. No longer was he a child of ten summer, but a man who'd seen ten and nine. A man who wanted her as his own. Yet something told him he wouldn't be considered a man even now.
She belonged to him, he knew. In some mystical way that was hidden from his memories but brought an echo with it. He was patient though, and knew it would come to him, just as she would.
Something told him time was running out, maybe the dread icing down his spine more often than not. His body would have shivered if he could've moved.
His eyes opened to the same vaulted, ancient crypt that'd been his home since waking. Golden pillars supported the ceiling at precise intervals, carved with ancient glyphs he should've known. But yet again, the knowledge was veiled from his awareness.
The ceiling was also covered in gold, as were the doors, walls and the alter upon which he lay. One cushioned with a red, luxuriant velvet. The kind that would grace an affluent home.
In nine years, it had never faded. Dust had never dared to touch it nor the porcelain tiles the crypt was floored with. The gold appeared unaged despite the certainty he held that the room was more than ancient.
The view was tiresome though, the overdone wealth that nevertheless failed to hide the nature of his dwelling. He was in a grave. One at the heart of a pyramid.
Even with the growth he'd achieved, he'd never moved. He lay on his back, his head resting upon a silk pillow, manicured hands folded on his chest. A gray t-shirt stretched across his chest whilst dark denim jeans encased his long legs.
Common sense told him the clothes didn't fit with the setting, nor his memories, yet they were all he remembered ever wearing. His hair and nails had never grown, though now, a well trimmed beard graced his cheeks. He'd never needed to eat or relieve himself. In short, he freaked himself out more than the crypt that was his home.
