First Water

First Water

A Chapter by Aldora Sparrow

Ten years later...




I knew I was different. I accepted that years ago. But why can’t people just accept that? I can’t change myself. I can’t help my looks, my intoxicating, alluring looks. I can’t change my ways, the way my body reacts in certain situations. I can’t change the fact that I am simply not human...

“Amaya? Could you answer the last question?”

I stood up, my wave of blue-black hair falling from my shoulder with a small whisper. “Yes.”

            “What was the name of the man-” The last bell rung, cutting him off, and I closed my textbook. “Well, we’ll finish this lesson tomorrow. The home work is page 509, entire page. Take notes. We will have a test next week. Good day, class.”

“See you, Amaya!” A girl said.   

            I nodded slightly in her direction. I tucked my textbooks into my bag and made my way through the main entrance. Even though it had been more than half a year since I entered this high school, people still whispered and pointed at me. I ignored the admiring and envious glances thrown my way. I pushed my length of black hair out of my face. I walked down the paved road leading from the school. A young man, blushing furiously and prodded on by his friends, came up to me.

            “H-hey, Amaya.” He stuttered, as he pushed his fingers through his light brown hair. He was thoroughly flustered.

            I glanced in his direction. I smiled a little. “Hello. And you are?”

            “Jayden,” he said, “Jayden Peters.”

            “I see there is no need for me to introduce myself,” I said. “How may I help you?” but I knew the answer already. It was the same for all of them.

            “W-Will you go out with me?”

            There it was. The declaration of love that I’ve heard so many times. Humans are so predictable. “I’m sorry,” I said. I turned away.

            “W-wait!” he said, reaching out. His hand lightly brushed my elbow.

            “Don’t touch me!” I said, before I could help myself. I drew my hand away, making sure my gloves were securely on. Many of the students around me stopped and started whispering again. “I’m sorry,” I said again, “but I’m not the person you think I am.” I ran away. He tried to run after me, but he was soon far behind.

It was true. No one here knows or needs to know who I really am. I stopped at the familiar streets. I made sure everything was fine before striding away. Humans everywhere are smiling and going about their normal lives. They haven’t changed at all. My memory flew.

After I had killed the man in the hut by the ocean, I isolated myself in the mountains. For ten years, I was alone. I sought to discover all my powers. Once I knew my abilities, I hunted ways to protect others. Black gloves that almost reached my elbows covered most of my toxic skin. I enveloped everything except my face in clothes. Special water drops were made to weaken the mesmerizing power in my eyes. For many nights, I stayed sleepless, racking my brains to create a shield over my eyes. I finally got inspiration when I overheard a hiker talk to his friends about glasses in his eyes called contacts. I stole one and created one much like it that, like my gloves, responded to my will. Finally, I had perfect control over my serpents. They now only came out by will and outbursts so I was careful to control my emotions.

Once I was sure of my self-control, I let myself mingle with the humans, careful not to get too close to any of them. A few months later, I was found by the Scientists. The ones who survived had told their superiors. Now, they sent fighters after me, trying all they could to bring me back to surely destroy me. I always easily took care of them, but I still kept precautions. I grew out my hair that had been to my shoulders to my waist. I also stained it with dark blue. I changed my name to Amaya, meaning “night rain.” It was very fitting.

I rounded a corner. It was an empty alleyway. Suddenly, men in dark clothes jumped out with various weapons in their hands. To me, they moved in slow motion. Humph, I thought. Amateurs. They never learn. I stepped out of the way. I was on the other side of the narrow space, walking away. They charged after me, throwing life-fires. I just kept avoiding them ever so easily. I drew them to a garbage dump. They surrounded me, a moving ring of multi-colored eyes. I glanced around, scanning and memorizing their faces. All young men no more than thirty in human years. I crossed my arms and glared at them. How annoying.

One attacked, brandishing a sword. I released control over my waters. My trustworthy serpents sprung out and attacked on their own. There was no need for me to even move. Kenda and her friends are vicious today, I observed. I smiled. All the easier for me. Multi-colored life-fires flashed. I watched as the men began to fall dead or wounded. Eleven dwindled down to two. One was a man, around his late twenties. His dark hair fell in waves into his scratched face. The other, a young man, was hardly more than nineteen, rash and inexperienced. With short blonde hair, he was agile and was able to dodge most of my attacks.

I called Kenda back. She and the rest of them returned, encircling me. The two men stopped as well. I faced the older of the two. I blinked, melting my eye water drops thus activating my power. Dark eyes met light green. He stopped, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in fear. My prey was caught. I strode over. I felt my instinct take over. My eyes misted over and my nails grew into talons. My canine teeth lengthened. I grabbed the collar of the man, jerking his head up to me from a half-kneeling position. I pressed my lips onto his frozen ones. I sucked in. Then I tasted the green life-fire. His tasted like grapes. I took my lips off, watching the fire flow from his open mouth to mine. The fire became a liquid when it touched my mouth. I drank his life-fire, the force that kept him living. I felt him get heavier. It was fine. When the life-fire was being drained, starting from his feet, his body became stone. I kept drinking, savoring the lovely taste that kept me living.

With the flow came flashes of memory. His memories, experiences all came flowing into me. His name was Rosh. His wife had died earlier this year so he offered himself to the Scientist’s organization in hopes that they could revive her. His son was his joy and love. He was only a year old, living with his grandmother in the countryside. He had planned to visit him after completing this mission. My heart broke. He never knew he would never meet his son again. At least he would meet his wife again.

After a minute, I felt the flow start to lessen. I open my eyes and saw stone creeping across his face. Then it completely took over his face and hardened. I watched his green eyes shine then died completely. He would never meet his son again. I released my hold on his collar. As soon as I let go, his body dissolved and joined the earth.

“Rest in peace,” I murmured. I turned to the younger one. He was on the ground, shaking with fear. Incoherent words came from his mouth. I could see my sadness reflected into his terrified blue ones. In his eyes, I saw a demon, a monster. A monster that took on the shape of a girl no older than eighteen with waist-length hair. Her normally dark blue eyes were flickering with blood red fire. Fangs protruded and a trail of leftover shimmering green life-fire slid down from a corner of rosy lips.

My vision was blurred from the tears. My heart was being torn to pieces. I killed an innocent man. Why? Why had he volunteered on such a dangerous mission? He should’ve just left to go to see his son. With my vision blurred, my power was also weakened. The young man let out a cry as I stepped forward. He tried to run. I just kept walking, unhurried. Kenda came out again. You can’t run from me… Kenda shot out and dragged him down, sinking fangs into his leg. I licked the rest of the life-fire from my lips. He still fought, trying desperately to escape. His leg was broken and bleeding. In a blur, I’m kneeling at his side.

I put a hand on his face. “Don’t worry,” I whisper, “I’ll send you to a better place.”

“No,” he said, voice quickly escalating to a cry. “No, don’t kill me! I don’t want to die! No!” his last cry was abruptly cut off as his life-fire was sucked away. His scream continued to echo off the mountains of garbage.

As this body melted into the earth as well, I wipe my mouth, washing away the light blue life-fire. I stood up, shaking. I felt my eyes clear again. My fangs and nails shrunk to normal length. I put my face into my hands, trying to stop the flow of memories. Random flashes of his memories flinted through my mind. Kenda hovered beside me. If she had emotions, her pupil-less eyes would’ve shone with worry. But there was nothing she could do to stop my pain. She bowed her head and melted back into my body. I bit my lip. I picked up my schoolbag. It seemed so long ago since Jayden had asked me out. I wondered how he was coping.

I walked, head down, through the busy streets. The sun was setting, casting shadows and darkening orange light. I wanted to cry, but I had to wait. My mind ran with thoughts. That’s the person I really was. I was a killer, a murderer, a monster. The sounds of voices and rang in my ear. That man was so young, hardly an adult, when his future, his life was taken out of him like a new-blooming flower by a parasitical butterfly.


I turned to see a small girl looking intently up at me. A small hand was tightly clenched on the hem of my skirt. Her eyes were worried. I quickly waved a hand in front of my face, making sure my water drops were in my eyes. Then I kneeled, eyes meeting hers.

“This is for you,” she said. She held up a small red flower between pudgy fingers.

I took it gently from her. “Why, thank you. What is it for?”

“You looked so sad,” she explained, eyes intently on mine. “Mama said maybe you would feel better if I gave you a flower.”

“Thank you, little girl.” I straightened. I smiled as I ruffled her hair. “You are kind. Be a good girl and go back to Mama.” I turned away. Feeling a little tug, I glanced behind me. She still held onto my skirt.

“I’m fine now-” I tried to reassure her.

“Sister? Why do you wear so much? Aren’t you hot?” she asked innocently, indicating my clothes. It was something people often asked me about. Even in spring, I wore the normal school uniform—a green vest, buttoned shirt, and a dark green skirt. I wore the gloves that went under the sleeves. My boots came to my knees and I wore fishnet stockings that reached to the top of my leg to my feet.

I didn’t answer. I just turned to her small face and said, “Don’t ever walk in the forest alone. You don’t know what darkness lurks there.”

Her small eyes widened. I knew the sun had cast a shadow across my face. I didn’t want to scare her, but I had to give the warning. My skirt fell limply from her hands. I petted her head again and walked down the street. I played with the flower absently. My gloves, which responded to my thoughts, faded away. The flower began to crack, chipping off in little pieces like a cracking vase when it touched my fingers. I pressed harder. The flower exploded in a flurry of petals. They caught the wind and were gone. A solitary one fell into my palm.

“I am a monster,” I said quietly. The petal, like a piece of paper in a fire, started writhing as if it was in pain. Soon, it was a little pile of ash against my skin. The wind, too, took it away. There was a rumble. I glanced into the sky. Unnoticed clouds rapidly swallowed the sinking sun. It began to rain. Everywhere around me, shops were quickly closing and people hurried to save their products from the drops. I stood in the middle of the street, head bowed and a smile on my lips.

Foolish humans, I thought. It’s only water. It can’t hurt nearly as much as if I stole your soul away. Water slid through my strands of hair and slipping down my face. I clenched my teeth and ran through the emptying streets. The water on the streets moved out of the way. I just kept running. I bumped into various people, toppling crates and tables. The wind blew cold. I tried hard, but my tears slid and mixed with the fresh rain. At least no one knew I was crying.

I finally reached the forest. The patter of rain plummeted against the leaves like a steady drum roll. I followed the familiar dirt path and found the great oak tree. This great oak tree…closest thing I could call “home”. I leaned against it then crumpled at its base. I could now, at long last, cry. And I did. I cried for the two men I had killed; I cried for their loved ones, who they will never see their smiling faces; I cried for the painful pounding of my heart; and I cried for myself, the monster that took on human form. My cries were drowned out by the tears of the storm overhead. The storm’s pain was clearly more agonizing, but mine was no less painful. I was alone. A lonely soul in a monstrous body. I didn’t want to be this way. I wanted to return to the sky. Return to the life I loved before. I hated this. I hated who I was. I especially hated the men that made me this way.

“Hey,” came a voice near me. “Are you alright?”

I gasped. I looked up to see a young man leaning close to me. He carried an umbrella and was kneeling at my side, dark grey eyes worried. My tears abruptly stopped and were washed away by the raindrops, crystals of pain.


…Don’t come near me…don’t touch me…

© 2009 Aldora Sparrow

Author's Note

Aldora Sparrow
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I like the writing style and the voice very much. The topic is off of what I was asking, but I do like the story :)

Posted 10 Years Ago

The opening was a bit cumbersome. Maybe a proloague would help let the reader have some background into the character before the story begins. I like the story, but I am going to have a hard time on placing this one. It has some work ahead to make a good work great

Posted 11 Years Ago

My favorite part of this is the way you lend purpose to the choice of fashion the character makes. It is brilliant in offering those who challenge individuals of those belonging to the adolescent world of being disturbed by way of their expressions of attire. I felt the only room for improvement would be to expand on the details of the emotion of the character. It felt rushed. Otherwise, the descriptions are to be admired, and overall professionally compelling and well thought out. Hands down, seeping with imagination; highly entertaining.

Posted 11 Years Ago

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4 Reviews
Added on January 24, 2009
Last Updated on June 28, 2009


Aldora Sparrow
Aldora Sparrow

I have been writing for longer than I can remember, but it was only during 7th grade did I start to write outside of class. I am still inexperienced and I love helpful comments. I love to write fa.. more..