Three Word Wednesday #255

She was lying down on her bed, asleep, when she got the call.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, Miss. Alicia Spinner. This is Judy from the Office of Magical Defense. I am calling to inform you that your mail order Guardian will be arriving shortly. This transaction was carried out on the nineteenth of October, two thousand and ten. Thank you for conducting your business with our company.”

And before Alicia could get so much as a word in edgewise, the woman had hung up, leaving her with only the dial tone for company.

Guardian?

When did that happen?

She stopped short. That night, last night, Luke had left her for that bimbo of a redhead, Molly. She massaged her temples, trying to recall what she did that night. After she saw Luke and Molly together, she ran away and bought as much alcohol as she could before driving back and drowning her sorrows in booze.

And then…

                      “Give me someone who I can trust! Someone who won’t leave
                        me!” she had yelled before collapsing on her bed.

Don’t tell me…that they took that seriously?

Panicking, she tried to redial the number, but the number didn’t show.

In fact, it was as if the call had never taken place.

Maybe she had just imagined it. Funny things happen when you’re in the twilight land between the land of dreams and the land of reality. She put the phone down wearily and drew her hand over her face.

What time was it?

She glided weakly to the window and pulled the curtain back ever so slightly only to find a green eye staring at her from the other side of the glass. Shrieking, she fell backward and clambered back into the bed, her blankets up to her chin.

The owner of the eye walked through the window, as if it was nothing more than a sheet of water, and stopped at the foot of her bed.

She took in his appearance. Jagged pieces of black hair poked out from under a purple top hat, the rest of which was tied into a low ponytail that ended at his waist. Underneath the brim of the top hat gleamed a pair of violently green eyes that eyed her curiously. He was in a purple suit with a green cravat and the mere sight of him made her head ache.

He swept the hat majestically off his head and bowed. “Good evening, Miss. Alicia Spinner,” he said before taking out a white card from the inner pocket of his coat and clearing his throat. “My name is Alexander Finn Beck and I am your Guardian that you have purchased. Henceforth, I shall be protecting you from harm and will accompany you as a general companion. I will carry out any order you give me without question or complaint and will protect you with my own life if I have to.”

“Wh-wha-what are you---that is why are you---I mean---”

He smiled as he put the card back into his coat pocket. “It’s all right. It usually takes a bit of time for our masters to adapt to having us around.”

“That’s not the problem!” she squeaked. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go back.”

He frowned slightly. “Go back? But I can’t. Surely you read the contract…?”

She flushed and looked down at the covers.

“I take it that you didn’t look at the contract, then,” he sighed before snapping his fingers and a formal looking paper appeared out of thin air. “There, see? No refunds, no returns. All transactions are made at the purchaser’s own risk. You signed here, remember?” He pointed at a scribble that she recognized as her own signature.

She held her head in her hands. “This is a bad dream, this isn’t really happening, you’re going to wake up and find that this room is empty. There’s no strange man in a top hat Alexander Finn Bucket---”

“Beck.”

“---this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening---” she muttered to herself, rocking back and forth.

“Ah, shock syndrome,” he muttered. “Well, that’s easily fixed.”

He walked around the bed and put a hand softly on her head. “Mementum,” he murmured, causing a soft glow to emanate from his hand and engulf her head. Her mind went blank and her eyelids closed.

The last thing she saw were the green eyes.

Three Word Wednesday #208 - engulf, imminent, tamper

             I lazily ran my fingers across the ancient leather backs of the books on the shelf as I walked past them. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a complete bookworm and I love the written word. But I’ve read most of these books before. Macbeth, Hamlet, The Odyssey, and so many more. I needed something new. Something I could really sink my teeth into. Something that would completely engulf me emotionally, mentally, and physically. I wanted something to become obsessed with again.

            “Are you absolutely positive you haven’t gotten anything new yet, Dan?” I called down the aisles.

            “Pretty sure,” the old librarian replied, feebly hobbling over to where I stood.

            “All right,” I sighed. “I’m just going to take another look around. Maybe I missed something.”

            “If you want to, Tia.” He said as he hobbled away again amongst the books.

            I made my way back to the first aisle and started to look at every single book I passed. There had to be something here that caught my eye. There always was, after all. It was easier to get into the books here. I mean, really get into them. I'm talking being sucked into the pages of the book. I literally watched Oedipus resist against the songs of the Sirens and find his way back to Ithaca last week. And the week before that, I listened to the prophecy the witches made for Macbeth. So why, why, why couldn’t I find a good book this week?

            I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander until it came in contact with something. Eyes still closed, I followed the call of the book until I was standing right in front of it. My eyes snapped open, only to find a dog-eared volume with no title, author or any other inscription on the faded black leather cover. I eyed it suspiciously. Father had told me not to tamper with suspicious books. Or I’d be sucked in immediately.

            I closed my eyes again, searching for a new book, but all I could hear was the haunting melody of the tattered book I had just left.

            Maybe you’re supposed to find this book, my subconscious told me.

            I took a deep breath and turned back to the book. It stood there on the shelf, taunting me, tempting me to open it’s torn cover and look at whatever treasure lay hidden within. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I snapped up the book and immediately felt a connection. As if it somehow attached itself to my hand. Alarmed, I tried to let go, but I couldn’t. Instead, it opened and I saw that imminent white light as I was sucked into the torn, yellow pages.

Three Word Wednesday #207 - gait, nudge, ripen

She watched him walk through the market. He had a strange, slow gait. Almost loping. Like a lion’s. It was majestic in a way, she supposed. Even he had some beauty about him. A blind beggar. Always there. Feeling his way about, that mongrel always jumping by his feet, barking incessantly. She was a noblewoman, but for some reason she found him intriguing. The way he never seemed miserable.

Why was it that she, a noblewoman who had everything money could buy, felt miserable, but he, a blind beggar, seemed to have no worries at all? How could that be possible? How could he be happier than she? She didn’t understand it. Her maid nudged her slightly.

“Come, Your Ladyship. We are expected back at the fort by five,” the maid told her, leading her away from the crowded market and back to the carriage.

“Just a moment more,” she replied, shaking off her maid and turning back toward the market.

Everyone seemed happy. Except for her. Children chased each other around the stalls, and the general commotion was somehow comforting. Not like the complete silence back at the fort. No, there she had curfews and rules to follow. She must learn Latin. And Greek. And ladylike skills such as sewing and looking pretty. None of the women here at the market needed to waste their time learning such trifling things. They could look at the ripened apples and pumpkins stacked in little towers of red, green, gold, and orange. Fabric from the East, tinted with indigo dye and lined with gold thread. Trinkets and baubles in another corner. There was just so much life here. Life that seemed nonexistent in the fort.

“We must go, My Lady,” the maid said, tugging her arm gently. “The market will come in again in a fortnight. His Lordship is waiting for you in the fort. You musn’t keep him waiting.”

She sighed. “Yes, mustn’t keep him waiting,” she said as she turned back toward her carriage.