To Tell a Tale

27Oct11

To Tell a Tale

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The hallway of study cubicles always looks just as cold, just as lonely. Its where we went every day, monday through sunday to study during term time. The weekdays were for maths, science, normal things we’d learn at normal school. The weekdays were soley for our specialist subjects.

Although we know that here we are being pushed to the best of our abilities and beyond, it’s so… Cold. This is a Lady Q Dorm, a special boarding school where young ladies were sent if they chose a subject to specialise in and then received the most outstanding results above all others. It was a school, where the best of the best were sent to do what they were best at and perfect it.

No boys allowed of course. There were no Lady Q Dorms for them. They had public schools, and then would probably be sent to learn a trade, or perhaps become a farmer or some such thing that was suitable for men to do. I was glad to have been born a woman, because we were the only ones getting all the opportunities.

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Right now everybody was gone. That’s because it was spring celebrations, two of the weeks in the year when everybody got a break from their work to celebrate the end of spring and the beginning of summer.

The one, single good thing about everybody being gone was that we got to do whatever we wanted. Even the Dorm Matron had left, leaving us to fend for ourselves, though that was nothing new, she only checked in once a week during term time, but the Monitor system would tell her whether or not we did our work. The cameras were invisible, but everywhere. We go so much homework that I imagined my school mates may as well have stayed alongside Me, Trixie and Bebe. And although I wished they had, it was fun to have the dorm all to ourselves.

But it was so much colder.

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I got to use the best room for my Internet Webbing Superstudy that evening. I only did IWSS once a week, but usually I ended up in one of the other rooms because my surname started with R and usually we were assigned study rooms by name. But with everybody gone, Helena Rose could go to the best room. It was the best because it was so much sunnier than the others. It was at the very edge of the complex, and so they added an extra window to it. Brilliant rays of sunlight lit up the room and made it seem so much nicer than the others.

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All of the rooms were identical. Bare. They didn’t allow us to put any pictures on the wall tha might inspire rebellion… Not that they said it in so many words. They supplied things for us. A tiny flower on the desk next to the computer. A tiny kitty calendar for the wall. A picture of the dancing bunny because according to the history books, that was the image that promted Her Lady Q, the women that single handedly led the rebellion, to change things.

I logged onto my domain and began to work.

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Somewhere, probably in the garden, Bebe was strumming away at her guitar, which was her specialist subject in the same way mine was Internet Webbing Superstudy. The pads of her fingers were calloused from all the time she spent fiddling with her strings, and she was obsessed with music. It made up the entirety of her life.

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Trixie would be running at supersonic speeds over in the empty Physica room. Her specialist subject was Athletic Engagement. She was lithe and delicate, seeming to have the hollow bones of a bird. She moved at speeds Helena would never have thought possible had she not seen it for herself. She had already broken the world record for fastest teen, and the moment she turned 18 she intended to go for the gold in more than 7 different Physica when the Internation Tournaments came.They were only for women of course, the Mens tournaments had been cancelled years ago, after the Riots of Male Stupidity as they were called in history internet books.

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Hours later the sun was beginning to set and the Auto lights were about to boot up. I had finished all my IWSS work hours ago, and had started my homework for Educational Literal Language Studies – or English as they called it in the olden days. How odd they were. English was hardly an adequate word to encompass so much!

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I decided to do some reading to fill in the Free Time we had before we retired. We were on a tight schedule and there was no point in sleeping at ridiculous times and waking up late just to have to get back into sleeping routine. These were the things that were ironed into us as we grew.

We were all such GOOD children! In the olden days teenagers were… Rebellious and spirited and… They were so odd. And all the best ones, the heroines in all of the romance novels that fell in love with the amazing guy and got him in the end, they read books.

Which is secretly what made me start reading them as well.

There weren’t many people nowadays that still read physical books that had to be held. Everybody had Pocket Internets and books were usually on there. In fact, most books didn’t even get printed anymore. But I loved the smell of books – the feel of the heavy paper in my hand. I loved the whole reading experience, and I just didn’t feel that sitting at my Computer matched it. My friends all called me backwards, and told me to get with the times in a loving way, but I didn’t.

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Soon enough Trix and Bebe had joined me, Trix to watch some Internation Sportings on the watch box, and Bebe to talk over whatever she was watching. That was how it usually was. Me reading, Trix watching, and Bebe talking.

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“BOOOO!” Trix screamed at the screen, “THAT WAS A FOUL!” as though they could hear her. It was odd, but that was one thing that had never changed. Scary over enthusiasm was still seen all the time.

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“Oh! Oh oh!”

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“NOoooooooooooooo…..” she slammed her hands down hard on her thighs, and I knew that on anybody else that would have seriously bruised, but not on Trix. Sometimes she doesn’t know her own strength – take hugging for example. What she called a hug tended to cause people physical pain.

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“I told ya so!” Bebe was grinning. She liked being right. All the time. And even more than that, she liked being able to rub her rightness in people’s faces, which made her an awful person to argue with.

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“When has your team EVER won?” she said.

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“Never ever, but I don’t care! They’re my team and I’m cheering at them!” she growled defensively. Her accent always came out a bit stronger, and her english a bit more off when she was agitated.
I noticed these things.

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Later it was Tale Time.

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We all got cosy on my bed, our flickering lights giving the room a comforting orange glow. It was the same setting we always had at Tale Time, but no matter which story I told it was suitable.

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That night I told the tale of the Sira.

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I made stories come to life. My audience watched me, captivated, mesmerized, so utterly engrossed that no matter how scared they were they just couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop listening. I loved it.

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I loved making the story come to life with words, with actions. There was a mystery about my voice, something about it, that made sure everybody listened. It was as though they couldn’t stop themselves. When I told a tale, people would listen, drop whatever they were doing to listen to me as I spoke my words of wonder.

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I acted out every character, from the mummy to the widow.

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For me and my friends it was a running joke that whenever I acted out that one character that kept coming back to all of my stories it was the real me coming out. The character slipped into every one – The Insanity. That was her name, and that was her title. She was the insanity, the evil at the end of every Tale.

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The Sira ended with the tears of a widow, mourning the loss of her baby and her husband to The Insanity’s void of complexity. An awful lot of my tales ended with sorrow and tears. I couldn’t say why.

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Later we would all come down, and go to our separate beds, but this Tale Telling time was a ritual me and my friends had been doing for every night since the third night of being at Dorms.

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“Mmph. Too hot to sleep under my covers…” mumbled Bebe, falling asleep before I could reply.

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Trix fell asleep fast as well.

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I read into the night.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

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“Is she the one?”

“I don’t think so. Why would she major in Physica if her talent is as we suppose?”

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“This one?”

“Hmm… Perhaps… Did you have to use the Invisi to get that snap?”

“Well yes, she was standing right in the open! I had no choice…”

“Well ok… But if you left any traces and the Sheers catch up to uss – ”

“I get it.”

“Well I thought you might want some reminding.”

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“What about this one?”

“She could be. But Mena told us that it would be crystal clear who was the One.”

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“Well well well…”

“Which one?”

“Wait a moment, I think this might be it…”

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“That one.”

“Definitely that one. Even I can tell that much after the performance we just watched.”

“She is definitely going to like this one…”

“I agree. That’s a brand new one – one that even She can’t have seen before.”

“Well it’s said that they four would all be of origins fresh…”

“Now what?”

“Well now we have to get her of course…”



6 Responses to “To Tell a Tale”

  1. Subscribing.

  2. 5 Valpre

    I loved this Eni and how come I’m always the last to know about your stories?


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