Morph
4. It

Libra pushes fallen strands of his golden hair from his face, relieving his shining black eyes. “Morphers morph.” He shrugs like its the most obvious thing. “But they can only do it to something or someone that is a threat to them, they can sense a threat from across the country.” I raise a brow at him. “Watch this.” He stands and makes his way to the door, turning the lock in place, my eyes never leave it. If he is about to do me something, if I just call for Gemini he may have some super hearing and come save me. There’s a lamp not too far away- I’m a morpher as they keep saying and that has to have its advantages, I’ll morph off his eyes so that he can’t trap me.

“Your probably thinking of every way possible to escape if I even so much as look at you.” He’s right, every way I can get out of here is running through my mind. “But listen love, I am not a threat.” He unlocks the door.

His words play at least twice in my mind, then each and every escape plan I have come up with in the last minute shut down like someone switched a button in my mind off. He is not a threat. I don’t know how or why I know this but its just like when the door talked to me, I just know with my entire soul that he means me no harm. My body relaxes completely.

“That was the morpher in you. You can sense when someone wants to hurt you, before you know their intentions every way you could get away- every way you could morph them flies through your mind until you know that they’re not a threat.” The door flies open and at first I think its just the same thing that happened earlier happening again, the door just having a literal mind of its own, until an angry Gemini barges in.

Libra smirks a satisfied smirk, obviously pleased by his brother’s anger. “How much did you tell her?” He speaks of me as if I’m not here, but I don’t stop him, I need to hear what he has to say.

“Enough.” Libra shrugs. “Did I tell you enough love?” He turns to me, his smirk never faltering. “Or did I leave out the part where you-”

He doesn’t finish his thought because Gemini jumps onto him, they both go tumbling onto the floor. They roll around, Libra’s face gets pounded by Gemini’s fist twice before he can get a blow on him. I’m not sure what to do, I’ve never witnessed such a brutal fight between two strangers.

They roll around again. Libra is on top now, blood gushes from his nose but he smirks despite it. Landing a hard blow to his brother’s identical face, giving him the identical blood spilling from his nose. He hits Gemini again, harder this time, a small crack sounds through the room. “Not very civilized of you brother.” He goes to hit him again, but I can’t bear to see anymore of this.

I walk mindlessly from the room, not knowing where I’m going exactly but knowing I’ve had enough for one day. The mansion is honestly exquisite mindless of the dark color that fills every hall and every room. There’s a gym, a dining room, at least thirty rooms and much more I’m sure, but I stop once I come across a dim lit room with a sleek marble floor and walls with the black paint chipped off some places, a room with large wooden shelves filled with frail binds, I stop my wander through the place in which I do not know.

Its feels cooler here than anywhere else in the house, the floor is just as smooth as it looks and my tennis shoes grip to it with each step I take toward the first shelf. No bind, brown or yellow, decorated or plain catches my attention until the legendary bind that reads Oliver Twist stares me in the face. I run my fingers along the worn out binding, pulling it from the middle of two other books that sit collecting dust as well.

The dust gathers on my pale cold fingers with each swipe I take at the book that shows numerous signs of wear and tear. I flip to the first page of the book, not caring which part I read but only wishing to read of the miraculous Oliver Twist and his journey without parents.

I wonder if he felt as alone as I did without my mother, if he craved for the presence of his parents, strangers, people he didn’t even know. I craved the presence of the woman I barley knew, longed for her to come and reveal her true self to me as her face faded away from my mind. As her long brown hair and huge blue eyes faded from my memory until all that was left was her smile, a smile that even as year after year passed and the rest of her dissolved into oblivion, stayed with me. I’m afraid that that warm smile, that sicking sweet smile that was sometimes fake but always made my day as wrinkles gathered on the sides of her pale pink lips when they turned up at the corners, will forever be burned into my mind, branded into it.

Did Charles Dickens think that way as he mapped out the story of Oliver? Did he carefully pick out the feelings he wanted his character which would feel so real to others in order to portray the strong sway of things that can stick to someone when they’re an orphan? I’m on page eighteen now, reading of how Oliver was frightened in the presence of gentlemen, and weeping as they questioned him. Focusing more so on the fact that he didn’t know he was an orphan, he knew not what an orphan was and they mocked him for it. He knew he was without a mother, without a father and without a place to call home, or people to say they loved him, but he didn’t know the name for the lonely thing he was born as. An orphan.

“Oliver was strong you know. For him to be nine in human years, he faced everything. He lost his innocence way too young but he handled it. I envy him, for handling it so bravely that is.” The voice belongs to a freckled redhead, a jumpsuit of sorts hugs her entire body, its black of course, but the way the collar on it is popped up in a dramatic Dracula type fashion, her hair flowing past it, makes the black on her pop. Her boots clank on the floor as she walks toward me.

“Serenity I’m guessing?” She holds her hand out to me and I take it, nodding. “Aisha. Everyone around here knows your name, don’t look so surprised next time.” A symbol shines on the right side of her suit, symbols- the Gemini and Libra symbol clashing with each other. Its almost unnoticeable, almost, once you notice it it continues to shine.

“There are.. others?” The last word is but a whisper, since I hadn’t saw anyone but Gemini and Libra I guess I might have thought the brothers lived here alone.

Aisha bursts into laughter, clutching her side. “Please leave me the ability to breath, and tell me you didn’t think the lords lived in this mansion by themselves? What would they do with the place!” She chuckles again, my face heats because yes, that is exactly what I thought. Now that its said out loud I see that it was silly of me.

“What are you?” I vomit the words before I can think to swallow them back down. Just like everyone I’ve met here she calls Earth the human world, so she must not be human even though she looks like one. My curiosity gets the better of me, maybe I should change my name to George.

She seems to not be phased by my outburst, a pleased smile crosses her face as she struts to another part of the library. “A butterfly.” Her voice is cheery as she declares what she is to me. A stunned look is on my face I’m sure.

Bright red wings pop from her back, I’ve just noticed the slits in her outfit. The wings are the same color as her hair, blue and green swirls and designs litter them. They curve at the top and bottom and make a half-heart type of shape. Their beautiful, and if she hadn’t showed them I would have been sure butterfly people didn’t exist, even considering all I’ve witnessed today this is far-fetched.

“Its insulting really, when people think I’m a fairy. I mean honestly we are completely different!” Aisha complains, as I run my hand over one of the smooth thin wings. She rambles on and on about the differences between fairies and butterflies but it all goes over my head, all I can do is feel the roughness of the edges of her winds, the way the swishes and swirls feel engraved into them, and the cursive bold words that are almost to small too read that is her signature. Aisha Antana is scribbled at the bottom right corner of the left wing in gold. “It isn’t nice to stare!”

“Oh sorry!” I back away, I don’t need to make a habit of staring, these people are fascinating but they are people- right?

“Lighten up girl, I was only kidding.” She laughs again and I decide, I like her spirit. “Gemini alerted everyone to show you to your room if they found you, so I’m ready when you are.” The gorgeous butterfly wings retract as her boots make that clanking sound her entire way to the entrance.

I don’t know when this journey will end, or when it will even truly start. But there are things here unknown to mankind, things that as I get a taste of I hunger for more so. If I discover all the species and things I have only heard of in folklore and fantasy books, the time will pass by like the cold winter breezes. And maybe, I have just made a friend as fiery as her hair and light spirited as her wings. Anything can be a good experience if you make it one.