Children in the Wade

Children in the Wade

            Children wade in a clear pool of sweet tropical water. It is warm and soothing to their bare flesh that is decorated in tiny lacerations and cuts from the thicket of the palm forest that surrounds these heavenly waters.

            “Isaac, look!” Mary dips underneath the crystalline waters, her long golden hair fanning out like the tails of a koi fish. “Watch Isaac, watch me.” She giggles, rippling the surface of the waters with her spasmodic splashes.

            Isaac smiles back at his beloved little sister. Her face is split ear to ear, her pearly whites gleaming in the light of the day. In the far corner of the pool a boy with midnight hair and midnight eyes sits watching the two angelic siblings frolic in the misty waters. The boy cannot be seen by the children but the children can be seen by the boy. In the boy’s world the warm crystalline pool that the children imagine is that of an icy tundra. The clear waters are frigid and the surrounding area is covered in jagged stalagmites of black ice that reach towards the black sky like vicious fangs and claws.

            “Mary!” Isaac calls energetically. His bright blue eyes reflect the mysterious ashen colored boy on the other side of the water. “Mary!”

            The little boy cocks his head to the side. The whole socket of his eyes reflects nothing but the blackness that they are.

            “Mary?” Isaac’s eyes that were only a few moments ago vibrant and enthusiastic were now filled with confusion and despair.

            The little boy cocks his head once more this time a thin smile outlines his ashen face.

            “Mary? Mary!” Isaac wades around frantically violently splashing the surface of the crystalline pool. He dives and then emerges, dives once more and then emerges. “Mary!” He splutters. “Maaaaaary! Maaar….” Isaac is cut off mid-sentence. His voice lost in the straightening of the ripples.

            The boy raises from the pool his bare body dripping acid water as he glides to the opposite side. A thin grin spreads once more across his ghostly flesh were the children last played. He steps out of the water, steam rises as his feet touch the earth. He reaches his hands outward slowly, just barely touching with the tips of his fingertips, the newly arisen icy pillars. Inside of one is a girl with lovely golden hair spread out like the tails of a koi fish. In the other was a boy with the most beautiful sea blue eyes. He smiles once more leaning his forehead against the icy sculptures. A small laughter escapes his lips. He presses them towards the sculptures and lightly kisses them.

            The boy speaks for the first time in a long time. His voice was quiet, awkward with a hint of confusion. “Good night.”

 *  *  *

            A light beams down from a ceiling making the sterilized and stoic room resemble that of the inside of a womb. The walls throb and beat as if it were a living being. Violet eyes rimmed with scarlet stare blankly at the chalkboard. The scratch, scratch of delicate manicured nails on powdered chalk drives grates into the ears of the six pair of listless eyes. The violet eyes continue to stare blankly into a void.

            “Is Miss V. always this upset?” A pair of dull blue eyes inquires.

            “Shh, Maxwell. Greek and Latin are hard enough without one of them being a dead language.” A head filled with golden halos of swirls and curls bounce with every enunciation. “Maybell does not like to be interrupted when Maybell is trying to learn.” Her green eyes glow like emeralds.

            Maxwell’s hair is the color of wet clay. It lies flatly along his face except for two tuffs on either side of his head that act like a second pair of ears.

            Maxwell sneers. “Maxwell was just asking an honest question. Maxwell did not mean to hinder anybodies learning. Maxwell is oh so sorry. Please for--.”

            “Maxwell!” Maybell squeals. “Maybell does not like this mocking at--” The locks on the door squeal and churn. The main hinge unlocks and the door begins to open. “--all.” Maybell’s voice falters at the sound.

            The entire class turns at the sound of the door. Inside each of their minds a multitude of questions resonate. Who is it? A visitor? How rare? Boy? Girl? Ashen flesh peaks through the crack in the door and lips that are palely thin. Midnight eyes stare into six faces reflecting wholly in into six pairs of eyes. The gravity of them is incomprehensible. However the eyes do not reflect back into the darkness of the midnight eyes. The boy’s midnight hair fringes over his t eyes creating deep clouds and even deeper shadows around them. Thin lips spread into an eerie grin.

            The teacher smiles slightly, a grimace lightly touching the corners of her lips. She gently places the piece of chalk down along the metal rimming of the chalkboard. Her long delicate nails brush the top of her teacher’s desk as she begins to speak. “Welcome --”