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 Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 9:50 am
The heavens were weeping again.
A torrential downpour of droplets fell from the grey skies, plummeting through the air before kissing the pavement in rhythmic spatters. Zanen simply looked at the gloomy scene that played outside her window and gave a quiet sigh, which was immediately drowned out by the relentless hissing of the rain. The sun was already setting, painting the sky’s canvas with colors muted by the shroud of mist that encased the atmosphere. Somehow, she had managed to waste the day away again and she couldn’t even recall how the day had passed by so fast.
Wrenching her eyes away from the window, Zanen once again focused on the task at hand—a study desk filled to the brim with books and paper that was messily strewn across its surface. In other words, work. Ugh, no wonder why she had momentarily forgotten about it.
The teenager slumped deeply into her chair, regarding the pile in front of her with sleepy eyes. Surely it couldn’t hurt to take a break? The drizzling of the rain in the background lulled her towards the enticing world of restful dreams, a convincing lullaby that refused to be denied. Zanen’s eyelids fluttered opened and closed in an ambiguous manner before they finally closed, allowing herself to be submerged by sleep and the peace that it brought for the moment…
A streak of light flashed across the now darkened sky, the loud thunderclap mingling with the tune of the ringing doorbell in a strangely melodious harmony. Zanen jolted into wakefulness, groggily sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Who could be calling at this late hour? The doorbell rang once again, prompting the girl to slowly get up and walk uncertainly over to her closet, throwing the first jacket she laid her eyes upon. Again the doorbell rang, its tune playing insistently throughout the house.
“Okay, I’m coming!” she called out in a slightly irritated voice. Some people just couldn’t be patient, could they?
Zanen walked briskly to the door, discreetly attempting to discern who was on the other side, but to no avail, as it was just too dark to make out anything. Sighing, the teenager deftly threw open the door with slender fingers. She was immediately assaulted by a gust of wind that chilled her to the bone. Showers of rain continued to make their descent towards the earth, undetectable through the confines of the night, save for the circular ripples that incessantly graced the puddles on the ground. But there was nothing else, no one else to greet her.
Who had rung the doorbell? And to what purpose?
Lighting roared as it briefly illuminated the landscape for a split second, but it was enough. She had seen something, a large circular shape that was resting silently at her feet. Zanen bent down and took the bundle, gasping in surprise at how heavy it was. She determinedly carried it into her house and set it on the kitchen table, before dashing back to bolt the door. With that task done, she quickly walked back to the kitchen, her curiosity demanding to be satiated.
It sat where she had left it, somehow proud and domineering atop her table and out of place in her house. Zanen observed it with questioning eyes for a few seconds, before nodding in a resolute manner. Time to find out what fate had brought her.
The swaths of fabric fell away to reveal…a cabbage. A cabbage. Someone had rung her doorbell just to leave a cabbage outside her door. Was it some kind of joke?
Something else caught her eye—a piece of parchment that she had previously overlooked. As the teenager unrolled it, a green feather fell out, drifting slowly to the ground. But Zanen ignored it, because she was too busy trying to make a sense of what was written upon the parchment. On it were three scrawled words, as mysterious as the cabbage itself and the someone who had brought it here:
Water.
Light.
Do Not Eat.
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 2:35 pm
Zanen could not believe that she was actually doing this. Was she actually going to follow the instructions of a random three-worded letter that was probably just someone’s weird idea of a joke? Was she actually taking time out of her hectic schedule to do this? The answer was yes, yes she was.
The teenager heaved a sigh and looked down at the cabbage she was carrying in her arms. She seemed to be sighing a lot lately, wasn’t she? The thing about this cabbage was that it didn’t even seem like a real cabbage. The leaves weren’t thin and supple and the thing must have weighed about a bajillion pounds more than a normal cabbage should weigh. She just didn’t get the point of watering it and giving it light when it wasn’t even likely that it would grow. And if it did grow, well…what was the point of delivering a cabbage to her door just to tell her to help grow it? Still, her curiosity had been successfully aroused and she was happy for an excuse to procrastinate on her work, even if it was to take care of a cabbage.
At any rate, the third word of instruction was easy enough to follow. “Do not eat?” Zanen doubted that anyone could eat this unnatural monster of a cabbage, and even if it was possible, no one in their right mind would go and eat something that had been left on their doorstep, right? Then again, who knew what people these days would be willing to do. Well, the teenager considered herself sane enough. Not eating the cabbage? Check.
Zanen gave a grunt of satisfaction as she heaved the cabbage onto her window sill. The pain in her arms immediately subsided, and as the teenager reached for the rod that would unfurl her window blinds, she made up her mind to get some more exercise. She gently rotated the rod with slender fingers, watching as golden brilliance streamed into the room, and more importantly, onto the cabbage. Light? Check.
That left the first word of instruction. Hopefully, it was okay to go out of order, but then again, she wasn’t really expecting much to come out of this venture. Skipping rather cheerily to her sink, Zanen filled a plastic cup to the brim with cold water. In her haste to return, she accidentally misbalanced the cup and succeeded in sloshing some water on her shirt.
“Oops! I’m sorry for stealing some of your water, cabbage!” she pronounced sheepishly. There, that did it. She definitely needed to get out more.
Continuing on slowly, Zanen managed to reach the cabbage without any further mishaps. Smiling softly, she tilted her hand and allowed the water to trickle out of the cup in a steady stream, slightly reminiscent of a waterfall. Water? Check.
All done! That wasn’t so bad! Stepping back to admire her handiwork, the teenager looked expectantly at the cabbage, her light brown eyes searching for any signs of apparent change. Nothing.
Well, patience was a supposed, she guessed, even though she didn’t necessarily have to like it. Sighing once more, Zanen deposited the cup on the table and proceeded back to her bedroom.
More work. Oh joy…
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Posted: Thu May 01, 2008 5:15 pm
Even though it had only been a few days since the cabbage's arrival, it seemed as though it had always been a part of her daily routine to take a little bit of time out of her schedule and ensure that the cabbage was thriving healthily in its honorary position. Everyday, she would throw open her window and let sunlight bathe the leafy entity in a halo of heavenly light. Everyday, she would sprinkle the verdant surface with water, watching anxiously as the dewy drops trickled lazily across its undulating leaves. And everyday, she would watch over it as she went about her day, always keeping an observant eye on the cabbage to make sure that it did not somehow wind up as someone’s next meal. All this she did with the utmost dedication, and though she would never have admitted it, it wasn’t just because she was curious about the mysterious visit, but because the cabbage was growing on her; it had imprinted itself upon her heart. It had an unnerving aura of consciousness that caused her to consider the cabbage as a companion, rather than just another leafy vegetable...
---
Sunlight spiraled down from its celestial throne, silently entering the house without waiting for an invitation to be extended. The light pooled collectively upon Zanen’s sleeping face, causing the teenager to reflexively scrunch up her eyes. The rays persisted, expanding to illuminate the whole room with a cheery radiance. Grumpily, Zanen sat up, lethargically rubbing her eyes with unsteady hands before giving a slow and languid yawn as she lazily stretched atop her mattress.
Relenting to the call of the twittering morning birds, the teenager shoved her covers aside, and they fell in a messy heap on the side of her bed. Well, since she was up, she supposed might as well go and prepare some breakfast...as long as it didn't require anything involving a stove or a toaster, of course. Accidents happen.
As she entered the kitchen, a cry left her lips, surprisingly loud for someone who was definitely not fully awake yet. “WHERE IS IT?!”
The cabbage was gone.
Suddenly wide awake, the teenager sprinted to the windowsill, though she knew that her eyes were not deceiving her. Her light brown eyes frantically scanned the room for any sign of the cabbage, but to no avail.
“Where could it possibly be?! Cabbages don’t just get up and walk away!”
Perhaps someone had broken into her house? Or maybe she had just placed it somewhere else and was having a temporary bout of short-term memory? Maybe it was all just a dream? Or—
A loud growl resounded throughout the silence, cutting off Zanen’s rapid train of thought. Her heart hammered deep within her chest and her hand instinctively reached for the house phone, fingers quivering as they wrapped themselves securely around its solidity. You could never be too careful, though she sincerely hoped that there would be no reason to call the police.
Feeling more secure with something held tight in her hand, the teenager hesitantly made her way to the source of the noise. A slow step, and then another, and another…
A piercing screech cut through the air, just as the phone fell from Zanen’s hand as she gaped unreservedly at the scene that was unfolding in her bathroom.
Something was reared up, all of its weight being supported by two sturdy lion paws perched atop of the rim of the bathtub. Feathers drifted in the air as two outstretched wings fluttered up and down in rough, unpracticed strokes, presumably aiding the creature in balancing. Two deadly talons lashed out at the mirror, while a young boy’s face glared defiantly into it. Giving another loud growl, his tiny fists pounded his reflection, scowling as he found that he couldn’t quite make contact with it.
Zanen unsteadily tripped over her feet as she backed out of bathroom in an attempt to get out of the vicinity of the striking boy, her mind desperately try to understand the situation.
“G-g-griffithh, h-hao?” she stuttered as her mouth struggled to wrap itself around the words swirling around in her mind, in an effort to mirror her thoughts. Grimacing at how her attempt to recover from her shock miserably failed, Zanen simply gave up and openly gawked some more at the griffin and human hybrid that had taken reign over her bathroom.
There was a shriek as the boy noticed her, and he flailed backwards in surprise, landing with a heavy thump in the bathtub. His blue-green eyes observed her with suspicion, before a low rumble started deep in his chest. “Grrrwwifif,” he repeated, opening his mouth to reveal abnormally sharp canines.
Zanen gulped at the sight of the vicious teeth with which the boy was armed. She couldn’t help it; the teenager fled, her long midnight hued hair streaming out after her as she retreated back to safer waters. After all, it wouldn’t do to walk into the lion’s den unprepared—even if a third of it was claimed by eagle, the remaining third human. Especially if a third of it was claimed by eagle, the remaining third human.
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Posted: Sun Nov 30, 2008 8:49 am
Dear Diary,
How to begin? I know I haven’t opened you for far too long, and I must take the time now to apologize for my neglect. Everything has been…hectic to say the least, and I can probably promise you now that it may very well be another few months before I find the time to seek you out and update you on the crazy roller coaster that is my life.
At the moment, I feel that a single word can summarize my life. That word is “Griffith.” Okay, maybe that’s not strictly a word. Wait—do names count as words? I suppose they do. Ah, there I go off topic again. Anyway, I believe I will never, ever again wish that magic could actually exist, because guess what? Magic does exist. And as the saying goes: Be careful what you wish for!
That night is still fresh in my mind, the night that threatened to flood the city with its torrential downpour. The night that destiny rang my doorbell and left me an oversized cabbage. Yes, it sounds preposterous. Magic often does. I assure you I have not gone crazy yet, though I’m sure I told myself that I had countless times since that fateful night.
That morning is still fresh in my mind, the morning that I awoke to the sun’s beams to find that the cabbage I had taking care of mysteriously vanished. The morning that I found a gryphon boy in my bathroom. Once again, preposterous, I know. Then again, does it sound any more so than the stories woven by books?
His name is now Griffith, and he is now a member of my household. Does that make me a mother? If everybody’s children were like Griffith, I’m sure that the concept of parenthood would quickly become a fleeting memory. That little griffin is, well…a horror. I could tell you about the innumerable times that he shredded my homework into little tiny strips or ripped the mittens I put on his talons and paws until they were no more than tattered strands of yarn. I could tell you about the myriad of times that I screamed myself hoarse. But I won’t.
I was never truly angry at him. It’s strange, but I’ve come to accept him as part of my family. And with that comes that customary feeling that all—well, most families share: love. As well as a HUGE helping of responsibility. Darn, I was hoping that I could somehow bypass that irritating aspect.
There was this one time—
The rest of the entry is torn into shreds.
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Posted: Sun Mar 08, 2009 1:54 pm
Griffith shuffled around the living, paws and talons scraping listlessly on the floor. An unhappy frown marred his boyishly handsome features as he momentarily stopped his languid wandering to carefully pick off strand of purple yarn which had somehow wrapped itself around the curve of his deadly talons. He looked at the limp string of material with disgust and threw it to the floor, where it joined the rest of remains of the girl’s woolen mittens. How he loathed those mittens.
They were icky things, irritating to his sensitive lion paws and just useless upon his eagle talons. Worse yet, the disgusting things seemed to only come in colors of light, feminine pastels. He didn’t understand why his caretaker had insisted that he put up with them. Didn’t she know that they inhibited his ability to wreck destruction on anything he could get his hands, paws, and talons on? Didn’t she know that there wasn’t anything else for him to do? Didn’t she know that he wanted to have fun? Breaking things were fun.
Griffith cast a glance towards the purple yarn that littered the living room’s floor. The momentary satisfaction that he received by ripping the offending garments to shreds had already ebbed away. They weren’t useless in that respect, those mittens. Just a small amount of satisfaction in return for the endless moments of irritation spent while waiting for his caretaker to leave, thus giving him free reign to rip apart the knit fabric.
He’d rather that she’d stay with him. He’d rather endure those endless moments of irritation at the hands of the mittens than have her walk away everyday. He was lonely.
The griffin boy’s glance shifted to the digital clock which stood forlornly on the corner of a nearby table. The first number resembled a straight line, followed by two slightly rectangular ovals. One o’ clock, he thought to himself. She would be home when the line changed two more times. A sigh left his pouting lips.
It would be a long wait.
He stared longingly at the window, at the beautiful hue of the sunny sky. She had forbidden him to venture outside, fearing that he would be mistaken for a monster and well…who knows what could happen? No, he was never to go outside without her company. Griffith whined about it everyday, and she would always promise him that she’d take him to the park during the weekend, when school wasn’t clogging up her daily life. She never did. In the few weeks of his existence, never had he the opportunity to set out and walk underneath the glimmering sun. He checked the windows, checked the doors. They were all locked. Again. There was no point of trying to shatter the locks. Persistent, he may have been, but that didn’t mean that he was stupid. No, a few weeks of trying had taught him that there were some things that simply refused to bend to his will. Giving a defeating huff, Griffith resolved once again to bother his caretaker about it when she returned.
She had forbidden him to demolish the house in her absence. Well, there wasn’t anything else he could really do in the restricted apartment, and unlike the question of going outside, this was one rule that his caretaker could not enforce. Griffith made his way to her bedroom and vented his frustrations on the unfortunate furniture.
Feathers flew everywhere.
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 11:40 pm
The door hit the wall with an unusual amount of force.
Griffith couldn’t help but wince at the harsh sound.
Two thoughts clawed their way through the stupefied state of his frozen mind, the first being that his caretaker had returned home. The second? The gryphon boy would have never admitted it, but his heart dropped slightly in his chest when the second realization washed over him: She was still mad at him.
The door closed with the same amount of force, a firm click indicating that the lock had once again slid into place.
Griffith couldn’t help but inhale sharply at the harsh sound, as if by simply puffing up his chest in an indignant manner he could fool himself into being brave.
He waited, fingers unconsciously reaching out for any comfort the ravaged bedroom could provide. They briefly tensed upon the initial contact with something soft, something unexpected. A single feather, the purest white against the barren graveyard of a bedroom. The fingers moved again, gently closing around the frail remnant of yesterday’s destructive rampant and bringing it level to his fascinated face. Eyes widened of their own accord as they hungrily drank in the sight of the plumed whiteness emerging from the elegantly curve spine that held everything together. It was pretty, beautiful even, and somehow… familiar. Yes, familiar! He had rarely questioned before, yet finding an answer granted him an intoxicating sense of accomplishment. Feathers! Did they not comprise part of his being, though dark as a tropical storm his were? And what was it that his caretaker had said about feathers…?
---
They sat on the bed, both guardian and charge. She was pondering, wondering which story she should tell to quell the persistent badgering of the young boy. He was exploring, hungrily feeling the mattress, feeling the pillows, feeling the quilted blanket.
His voice broke the almost meditative silence, amazement spilling through the griffin’s nonchalant tone. “Why?”
Zanen blinked, her mind grounding itself on the physical planes of reality once more. She looked at the demanding bundle of energy with confused eyes. “Hm? Why what?”
Griffith shook his head, mind groping at his limited vocabulary for a way to express his blossoming curiosity. “Why? Why are like mawshymelloos?”
There was an amused smile in return, before she replied, “Fluffy, aren’t they?” A nod from Griffith before she continued. “Feathers. Curious things with many a varied function. For me, they’re mainly a source of comfort, something to facilitate life. But they can do so much more, Griffith! They can provide warmth, line the interior of newly built nests, and can even allow you to fly—to reach the unreachable!”
“Fly?” the gryphon boy questioned with interest. “Can you?”
Another amused smile. “Me? Certainly not. But just maybe…” Zanen trailed off with an appraising look, the warm brown eyes tainted with something that hinted at trepidation.
“Maybe what?”
“Ah, nothing. Now do you want that bedtime story you begged so hard for or not?”
---
Maybe…maybe he could fly.
“Maybe,” Griffith whispered softly, as if the lightly exhaled word could make the elusive promise his, “maybe.”
Somehow, he didn't feel that scared anymore.
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