After over timing for a week, Selma completed editing the project she was working at. Sighing in satisfaction, she smiled, reading the time ‘4.38’ and started bundling up to flee from the company. But how could the world give her to be in a thriving field with fluttering butterflies, even in her dreams?
The world gave her termites.
A pleasant male voice came from beside “Selma baby, can you rearrange my piece too” she looked at James pouting at her “My wife gave birth today, I have to run home right away”
Selma stared at him with droopy eyes and wooden face “First, don’t disgust me. Second, is your wife a possum because i don’t recognize how else she could produce children every week and third NO”
Saying so, she spun around to retire.
“Tch, what a rude bitch. No surprise she doesn’t have friends,” a feminine voice whispered behind her tail.
“If not for the job, i won’t indeed sit around her” James added “Just being around her infectious tiredness, drives me sleepy”
Selma could hear her colleagues’ statements, but it didn’t affect her. Even if they didn’t express, she could anyway perceive whatever they were feeling. Believing herself to be a strong Empath, she didn't spot it peculiar, but who knows what the truth was.
She never had friends, because she could see through their fakeness and society likewise averted from her because of the always tired, fed up vibes she gave. But a month ago, she met him.
Jet black hair, silver shining eyes, and that heroic aura around him. He was the first of kind who didn’t evade her even after sensing the vibes she gave and she too didn’t receive any negative impression from him. They clashed in library and had the same predilection for poetry. Talking and meeting, they escalated from being strangers to acquaintances and, later, to sweethearts. And now was her first date with him.
But her pleasant mood got spoiled because of those creatures. She wished to respond with some holy messages to them but gathered herself at the last minute.
Sighing, she grabbed a taxicab to the movie theater. She had always felt trapped, like she didn’t belong here, very much because---
The car stalled, picking her out to the true realm.
Going out, she searched around with her droopy sea-green eyes. Suddenly receiving a tap on her shoulder, she spun around and beamed at him.
“Did i make you wait long, Chris?”
“Nope, but the movie is about to begin” Chris smiled but later studied her and pouted “You didn’t indeed rest after work”
Snatching her handbag, he drew her to the side and wiped her face with a wet towel; she felt her irritated mood washing away.
But, he suggested “You could have mentioned to me, we could contact at dinner then”
Selma froze at that and chuckled nervously, not looking at his face.
After rubbing her face, he pulled her to see movie.
Spending all evening watching movie, playing arcade and walking hand in hand, it was around 8 pm , and she wanted nothing more than to go home now.
But it happened then.
“I booked a private room in a restaurant, let’s dine there” Chris chortled happily, not looking at Selma, whose face started going pale.
She craved to drag herself away, but her mouth couldn’t revolt and his strength didn’t oblige her to pull herself.
She had a secret she told no one; it was also the reason for her to ever felt trapped and appeared fatigued.
That she from birth never once ate vegies or meat. She could feel the agony of the subjects she dined, she could sense the sizzling water caressing her extremities, the infinitesimals in the physical world felt days to her when she's sees meat, not the body but it was the mind she feels pain from and later being squashed under jaws with her conscious still awake, wishing to end but compelled to suffer the torment, the pain of being cooked and chewed made her choke. Even in the orphanage, she simply ate bread and dairy, even still she couldn't taste anything from them.
Never had enjoyed anything. She appeared looking dry and considering all was not for her.
And now Chris took her to feast, she recalled, the last date she tested to swallow merely to end throwing up and glanced at disgusted looks everyone around gave her, not preferring the same to develop she worked to tear herself but his restraint was too firm.
Not long after, they served the meal. She stared desperately pleading at Chris, who didn't once glanced at her.
She could see the familiar cries from meat and vegetable, their pain of being whipped in oil made her gag and she topped up throwing at the edge of room.
A sigh echoed in the hushed place, not choosing to face the mundane expression of revulsion she bore the pain and said “Sorry for ruining your evening, i should withdraw” and began advancing to the door.
A sturdy pair of hands clutched her shoulder, and she sat on the chair before she knew.
“So you were indeed a feeler” she couldn’t fathom what Chris was speaking, but she guessed why his mellow voice turned monotone.
He twirled his palm in open and object broke out from the blank, which made Selma ponder whether she smoked meth today.
But then recalled her pain allergy? to plants and blocked the query out.
“Here, try eating this” she read and thought why his tone was so emotionless before peering at the object that came out from the air.
It was a fat purple tentacle with many blinking eyes, staring at Selma. It appeared viscous and nasty, but she didn’t feel the gag reflex working.
She went on inspecting the unnatural object, but Chris pushed it into her mouth.
He gripped her mouth and forced her to bite the thing. Her eyes flew wide when she didn’t go through the anguish.
“What is this?”
Chris smirked at her as if he had won a lottery. Not replying to the query, he declared her “Come with me, to our planet Askyrie” and tugged her hand.
Opening her eyes, she noticed herself in an enormous ancient monastery building. She looked at Chris, the good feelings she had for him faded away, but the dilemma of why her empathy didn’t work on him, she finally asked him.
“This is where you belong" he announced narcissistically and told her the full history.
Apparently, this world called Askyrie had 4 different classes of energy users. Attackers, defenders, travellers;that could wander through space and feelers ;the one that were not called for in battles but could heal and tame plants and animals, helping them by accepting their misery. Selma too was a feeler, and the pain she endured when eating was because she naturally used her ingenuity. The world she lived at didn't have the magic energy, thus the organisms there and she too were weak compared to the people here.
Some thousand years ago, feelers, possessing no role in engaging in, were looked upon like slaves.
Being fed up by the conduct, Selma's aunt some hundred years ago set up the riot. Many feelers joined and ceased working.
Animals became out of discipline and couldn't be restrained no more, plants too hid away when anybody approached them.
People from other classes started falling and accepted cannibalism, that's when everybody understood the importance of feelers, but it was exceptionally late.
Other planet received the report of their private conflicts and infiltrated them, and wiped out most of the feelers and some from other classes.
Selma's parents asked some travellers to dislodge her some place secure. There remained no feelers here now.
Selma understood the reason for his enthusiasm when he met her, his care, his regular meeting her and singing love to her all nights. She felt this love was too humble to be embraced.
She glanced at Chris, who was advancing forwards with a complacent face.
Her hand quivered lightly, wishing to sabotage the library they met at, but she bore herself and breathed deeply. Taking a step back, she raised her right foot and kicked him hard in between his legs "Shithead" she snarled and trotted ahead, as if she couldn't hear his anguished cries.
Selma knew he was stronger than her, but noticing how desperate they required her, he couldn't possibly harm her.
She reached inside a massive hall that had four altars.
Several priest looking oldies were staying there reading at her with benign smiles
An aged priest having white eyes stood in front of her "We have waited for you, my child" he smiled and brought her to the altar with green crystal.
"Put your hand on it, we are depending on you child" he assigned "We won't harm you"
Selma couldn't perceive any maliciousness from them, but that smile irked her.
Turning, she planted her palm on the gem. She saw she would suffer pain, but this time it was unreasonable. The pain she felt before was nothing compared to this. She acknowledged she switched places with everything ever eaten in the world.
She remained there wailing, but not a voice sounded from her mouth.
Her heart glowed suddenly and pain receded, a woman with same hair and eyes as she appeared.
With a crying face, the woman said" Baby, never listen to their cajolery and eat nothing given by them"
The woman told her the truth of matter, feelers were the strongest class, because they could feel and heal everyone's emotions, they could even inflict the pain on others. Other classes used to fear them, so they poisoned them by making them eat those disgusting things.
Her aunt after many years found the truth and revolted but they sealed their fighting power by the continuous ingestion of poison, so not having any other choice they send all their newborns and children to other planets to make them safe.
Their own neighbors slaughtered all the feelers.
The woman cried at her "Find others like you and don't let them hurt you, my baby, when they couldn't find anything, they ate all of us” saying so she disappeared.
.....
Selma opened her eyes and looked at the smiling priests. Their smiles were the same but she could now feel their thoughts, maybe cause she was relatively strong now.
They stood there and took out the familiar tentacle "You must be hungry, eat it"
"I am tired, let me rest first" saying so she started moving out, however in her mind she thought ‘Maybe i can't ever eat meat ʼ.
Selma never had a hero complex, nor was she sure if she could find others, but she wouldn't ever let others hurt her.
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I apologize in advance if my assumption is wrong but I feel that English is not your first language. There are mannerisms in your speech pattern that was a little difficult for me to pick up on. That said, by the end of your story I was more comfortable and able to move along better. The shift to the surreal was a surprise but it worked well as an explanation for their somewhat strange behavior. This turns out as a pretty good contemporary piece which moves along and holds my interest. One suggestion, it might be better to break down some of...
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