No title. (Archived)

If I said I had the power over the earths elements what would you say? Would you laugh and chuckle ‘ Good one Mira,’ would you give a nod that says ‘You’re really strange and weird’ or would you yell and shout and tell me it’s not possible? Now, let’s switch roles. What would you do if you got told you had power of the four elements? Would you take it as a weird insult and raise your eyebrows, would you walk away like the person had a fatal disease? Or would you scream, shout and cry?
As you read this, are you thinking what on earth if she on about? Yes, you probably are. But, that's ok, well for now. What I’m about to tell you is very important, what I’m about to tell you will also put you in mortal danger. So, if you think this paragraph tells you all about this book you’re wrong. No, this isn’t a book about some random child hero written by some random failing author. No, this isn’t about aliens or monsters. But yes, this is about a normal teenager like you but so not like you. It would make sense to start at the beginning, but I don’t make sense to you, so I should start at the end. However if I did that I wouldn’t even fill a quarter of a page. Confused? Yeah, I thought you might be.

Imagine a place so silent it deafens you, a place so dark it blinds you and a place so cold you burn. Think about it hard. Imagine a place so lonely you feel crowded, where the stale air is so dirty it begins to smell like perfume. A place where taste Is no longer a relevant, your brain no longer sane. Now think about this question hard, very hard. No, I don’t think I’m explaining it right, you must think about this question as if your life depended on it, as it did mine. Who are you? Who are you really? I could easily tell you who I am, Mira age 15, long brown curls with a hint of red. Small, just under average height, smooth, soft light chocolate skin. I wear the latest clothes, listen to the latest music, I am popular. But still the question lingers;
Who. Am. I?
I’m afraid I can’t answer that even if I wanted to. I could tell you who I’m not? I’m not your Aunty Mel, I’m not your best friends sister and I am not, repeat not, normal. Did that help? No, I don’t think so. You want me to get on with my interesting story and It is interesting, believe me. But I can’t, not here, not now, may be not ever. Now you think, ‘oh I will tell you that’s the point of the book,' but believe me again. It’s Not. This book is about me, sure, but it’s not about my past, nor future. Yep, you guessed it’s now, now you wonder how can I know write this, no human being can should be able to recall these events unless you’re a past it hippie trying to earn money. Umm, yeah, you can you will think, but carry on reading this and you will see you definitely wouldn’t be able to recall this. I’ve made a mess of this explanation haven’t I? How about this stop thinking and reread the sentence three sentences ago and carry on. You might’ve guessed again. I’m not human. Oh, one more thing don’t ever, ever believe someone who says believe me or trust me or the reverse for that matter. But as an exception to that rule and this is the only exception:
Don’t Trust Me.
So, like I said imagine that place, close your eyes if you must. Now change scenery to a place where everything is new and old, clean and messy, now you probably think I’m repeating myself in the same way I’m describing these places, I’m not. In this place there is a fairy-tale cottage. A vast garden decorated with towering willows, trickling streams and sweet flowers. Breathe in. The fresh air clears your mind, there is a slight breeze, it catches your face gently pulling on your hair. A waving path leads up to a small door, bordered with ivy. A billow of smoke swirls through the chimney on top of the tightly slated roof. You step inside. A side table greets you as you hang your coat on the old fashioned peg. You glide through each room each furnished with old fashioned beds or tables, lamps or sofas. However your eye repeatedly catches on the latest mod con. A 3d plasma here, iPad 3 there. State of the art pictures hanging next to new desks with the best laptops, iPod’s and phones resting on top. You follow your nose into the kitchen where some delicious homemade brownies are cooling. You place one on a delicate china plate and carry on through to another living room this one, however has a fireplace where a T.V could have been. You sink among the cushions, and let the warm of the fire cover you like a blanket. Where are you? I don’t know. All I know is that it is where I am and you’re not. Lucky Me.
I’m going to get on with the story I really I am, but just one more thing. Well two. The first is that the first description is relevant, I just didn’t want to surprise you later. The second; I said I’m not human, but I’m not an alien either, I’m not sure what I am but don’t underestimate me.