|
|
|
The people within my dream never could decide on whether I really was Ciel Phantomhive, or whether I was cosplaying so perfectly, I may have been him. I believe it was a bit of both. I was magically Ciel as I have countlessly fantasized as of late. It was me deep down, but instinct and natural behavior, as well has thought process -- the works -- was Ciel. After the incident at the mysterious manor, I sometimes had to fight a smile down to only allow a small smile through. That's Ciel.
[ The door opens ]
I had somehow found myself within a large, endless manor. Either I had forgotten, or I had always been there. I couldn't be sure. I wore the same black eye patch Ciel wears in public. I knew I was in Victorian clothes, but they were comfortable. I payed no attention to my appearance; I already knew what I looked like.
I walked a bit down a wide hallway that stretched on and on. The walls were bare and the floor cold, but I didn't feel anything. I walked, but the end of the hallway never came into view. Shortly, I came to a familiar, wooden door on the left wall. I could have sworn someone opened the dark-stained door before me in this dream and found dangers behind it. Despite that, a boy's (and a mystery-seeking girl's) curiosity was strong, so I opened it and peeked in. The door made no sound as it slowly swung open, allowing a growing sliver of light in the darkness. For some reason, I stood on something, elevating my view of the room inside. I held onto the frame and leaned in, peeking around the corner to the right. There were little, pale legs protruding from a mess of blankets askew on a single bed. Beyond that, there were stacks and mountains of children's toys and the like. It was extremely dark. The only light allowing me to see came from the large, endless room where I still stood.
A moment's glance had revealed the children's legs to the right. A lazy thought revealed that they were most likely little girls. After a moment more of staring, I turned my head to the left. On a bed twinning the other was a small boy, perhaps ten years old. Beyond that bed, there was only a lonely wall. He was blond, his skin pale, and lay across blankets and blankets. I didn't notice a single pillow. His position didn't look natural despite the fact that I figured them to be sleeping. He lay on one arm, the other resting heavily on the blankets. The thick air in that room weighed down on my presence, unwelcoming; no matter how many lovely toys were thrown in, it would remain that way. It was like the toys made a small effort to cover the strong darkness like a scented perfume attempts to remove an immovable odor. But it was in vain. How had these children not been crushed by this atmosphere? An intense sensation to leave and close the door and never open it again surfaced, so I made a move to retreat into the light.
But no! The boy leaped up and rushed towards me! At the same moment, so did the two or three children that were previously piled on the bed to the right. There was little space between him and me, perhaps a couple feet. They reached out their hands to touch me, grab me. Frightened, my eyes wide, I stepped back and wildly felt for the door knob. I had leaned so far into the room before, I found I was standing in it now.
An ominous, deep voice came from everywhere and stated in monotone, "They are zombies. If they touch you, you will become like them. 'Ware!" In a panic, I frantically shoved the door to close. The boy's empty eyes stared at me as he reached. Anger and something else seemed to attempt to fill the emptiness of his eyes -- everything in that room was empty, no matter what one stuffed in. Little hands opened and closed in fists and outreached arms. Finally, with one final heave, I shut the door. The door clicked, proving its closure, and there was a scuffle inside. Small noises of movement, like little feet, abruptly stopped. Then there was nothing. I waited several seconds, as time slowly dragged on, and still no further sound. They most likely went back to their beds, silently waiting for another to come and rescue them.
To come play with them. To waste away years and years, perhaps not aging a single moment. Forever.
But that last bit was merely conjecture.
Wasting no time, I backed from the door and looked around. I refused to turn from the door just yet. What if it opened? What if I was sucked in? The fear settled after a few moments, and I looked around. I realized now the area I was in must be a lobby of sorts. It was all a blinding white. A lonely, sharp white. How had I come here?
Although I know I had dreamt the dream fluidly, memory seems to then skip to the finishing. I had defeated a terrible monster. Perhaps he was human, or maybe he was something else. The large body may have lied a ways away, to the right, but it soon disappeared from vision as I turned away. My senses were dulled from the weight of what I just survived. If it were reality (and I thought it so at the time), it would have been called “dream-like”. In a daze, I looked somewhere. It may have been down at my feet or up in the air, but a small something came to me. I barely heard it say that I have won a single wish as a reward for surviving and "winning" some sort of game with one challenger. A single thought was not wasted on a thing like a "wish". I looked out the balcony to my immediate left, straightened, and said "I wish to be out of here."
My head was fogged, but a dull thought muttered that I suddenly had the ability to fly. I wasted no glance to the beautifully painted hell behind me as I jumped off the balcony's detailed, white railing. I seemed to fall slowly, and landed in the grass. Only looking ahead, I took a couple steps forward as I stretched my arms like wings. Those steps slowly became a slow jog. A thought at the corner of my mind said it wouldn't work. How can humans fly? A stream came into view yards ahead, and another dim thought whispered that I would not clear it. Still yards from the stream, I jumped. I realized then that I had been wildly flapping my arms like a bird as I had been running that entire time. I glided only one or two feet over the stream and just barely cleared the tall grass on the other side. The edge of the tall weeds ended, and an area of yellowed brown thistle began. Whatever had lent me the ability to fly failed me then, and I landed clumsily in the thistle. Thousands of little thorns informed me that I was barefoot. I just stood there as a dull pain crept up my leg.
Walking from that area, only putting slight weight on my right foot, I looked back over my shoulder. I couldn't see the huge, white manor. There were other plain mansions arranged in a looping neighborhood fashion, some the littlest bit extravagant. But it had disappeared beyond the rows and rows of roofs.
"My flight must have taken me a longer distance than I recall. Either that, or the place disappeared," I thought. Still slightly limping, I came up to a low, brick wall with a concrete top. It was most likely a fence of sorts to announce the edge of the previous neighborhood's property. I hoisted myself onto it and sat, my back to the silent stream. I bent my right leg to my side to inspect my foot. (I'm sure both of my feet landed in the thistle, so it's strange that only my right foot hurt. I must have put more weight on my right foot as I landed.) The heel was pricked with so many little thorns, it likened peach fuzz. There was a deep, reddish-brown cut that I did not recall receiving from my outer ankle to the sole of my heel; it wasn't bleeding. I lightly touched my foot and found it to be sore, a dull throb proving I had survived. A moment more of weakly nursing my foot, I glanced up to the grassy land beyond the wall. Two police officers, one male and the other female, were casually approaching to my right in their blues. I believe the woman's brown hair was styled to her shoulders. The female reached me and may have asked if I was alright. I glanced at my foot, then slowly swung the leg over their side of the hip-height wall and stood. "I'm fine," I assured the nosy strangers.
My balance faltered then and my legs gave way. I fell against the woman and she righted me again. I gingerly pushed her arms away to stand and began to weakly walk forwards, toward a cluster of mansions similar to the ones beyond the stream. Ignoring them seemed to work just fine for now.
My legs had taken me but two steps when one asked "Who are you?" It wouldn’t work anymore; I was tired. I stopped as they stood beside me, towering over me. I did not remember being this short. I looked down at their legs, just to look at something.
With my expression showing little proof of how tired I was, or any emotion, really, I replied softly, with a hint of a pout, "Ciel." The officers replied to the meek answer with a nod. My own voice surprised me. I had meant to respond with more command and power than that. My voice failed my facade.
One offered to take me home. They may have asked where I lived, but I cannot be sure; at the very least, I did not answer. The young woman gently held my upper arm with one hand and supported my back with the other. I instinctively shrugged off her hand on my arm, but she refused to remove the hand silently supporting my back. Numb, and exhaustion beginning to set in, I forgot it. My delicate constitution did not allow us to move quickly, but if I still had anything at all, it was pride, and that kept me from falling again.
Time seemed to skip to my arrival at the Phantomhive manor. I stood at the entrance. People in elegant clothing sat in chairs, one or two children sitting on the carpet, and they all gaped at my frail form standing in the doorway.
Without my notice, the female officer had poured disinfectant on a cloth. With her finger, she touched my lower lip as I dumbly stood there. When I flinched so slightly, I didn't think any would see, she dabbed the right edge of my lower lip with the cloth, then dabbed my cheek. My body must have ached, but I felt nothing except for her touch on my lips. I did not give time to spare it any thought. I had not noticed those scrapes before. I suppose I was fairly beat up.
The strangers were all the more surprised to see me injured. One came forward and beckoned me to enter. I took one step within, and I ended up further in the room than a single step would take. They must have pushed and led me farther inside. The strangers all crowded about me, wearing a concerned expression. The heir to the Phantomhive estate was home. At least they remembered to leave room for my breath. I did not recognize most of the crowd. Some I had seen visiting for business before, but I paid no mind to them. I did not even glance at their faces. Looking between their bodies, I saw my mother beyond rows of strangers. Ignoring their false concern, I pushed between them, though little effort was needed; everyone made way for the son of Phantomhive-hakushaku.
I stood where she was and glanced about. She wasn't there. Had she moved, looking for me, as well? Instead, a small girl of my own age greeted me, speaking so excitedly and quickly, it was difficult to tell her words apart. I don't recall what she said. Now that I look back and recall blond hair in ribboned pig-tails, she might have been Elizabeth. But she was not who I'd liked to see. I looked past her, and to my right was my father among a good sized group of men. They all acted like I had always been there, like I had not just arrived at the manor with bruises, scrapes, bare feet, and who knows what else. Where were the nurses? Not that I gave it a mind then, it was fairly peculiar that no one moved to tend to my injuries, no matter the fact that I was numb.
They all stood about a long, rectangular table, chatting about pointless things like the weather and such, most likely. My father had just finished speaking with one man and had turned away from him. I saw his back again and the intense urge to just hold him as tightly as I could manage and never let go took over. I couldn't wait for him to even turn around. I weakly hugged my surprised father from behind, but with so much emotion, I thought I couldn't hold him any tighter. [my height in relation to Father's body here] I buried my face in his shirt. I mumbled into his back "You're the best father..." as I accidentally pushed him to the wall. I might have mumbled "I could ever have" or "a boy could have", finishing that sentence, but I can't be sure. I did not pay attention to what I said. I didn't let go, couldn't let go, and I didn't want to, as I tightened the hug and dug my fingers into his shirt. He finally held my arms, something like a hug, since I was behind him. Several moments passed, and I reluctantly let go and stepped back.
I then found myself in a dining room that I did not recognize. A girl my age (again, perhaps Elizabeth) pulled a tall chair for me to the small, round table my parents sat at. I believe it was time for dinner, but it felt like breakfast. How long was I away?
She placed the stool-like chair at the tall table across from my parents. There was another unoccupied chair closest to the wall to my right, next to my father. Ignoring the chair the girl offered, I climbed onto the other. The girl took the chair she had offered and joined us.
The moment I sat, Mother excused herself and disappeared into a large bathroom, almost like home. I followed her. She took some items from her bag, most likely make-up. I stared emptily at the bag, so I wasn't truly paying attention.
Breaking the silence, she asked "For how long are you going to cosplay, or whatever, as that Ciel?" I didn't answer. She glanced at me almost disapprovingly, but perhaps with more indifference than anything else, and then put the items back into the bag. She and I exited the bathroom and I missed my chance to embrace her. They didn't look the same, but they were my parents. Father and Mother, they were there.
As we re-entered the dining hall, which was much like a restaurant's eating area, the voices returned, then dimmed, like riding away in a silent carriage. I awoke, and lay there, reviewing the strange dream in my head so I would not forget. I then noticed a small smile had lighted my face.
[ End dream ]
I enjoyed it.
It was strange that Ciel's Mother and Father didn't act like themselves, nor did they look like themselves. Mother had brown hair that went to her shoulders, and Father was a little fat and as tall as her. They slightly resembled Will's uncle and aunt from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
It wasn’t my favorite dream, but it definitely comes in one of the top three. Perhaps second. After I awoke and lay in bed, I realized that I’d much rather cosplay Ciel than Rin or Len. It would be much more difficult, and I’d have to try much, much harder, but I would enjoy it more.
Though, what’s Ciel without Sebastian? I don’t have anyone to go in a group with me.
The strangest thing about the dream was that I knew I was Ciel of twelve years with a branded back and the contract eye; I acted and thought like the present Ciel most know. Yet, everyone at the manor welcomed me like I was the same nine-year-old Ciel that had just returned home from that horrible, hellish month. Except his mother and father were there, and so was the manor.
I wonder if Ciel’s ever had a dream like this. I haven’t watched Kuroshitsuji in a while, though that night I had pictured how that Kuroshitsuji pillow would accent my room, so it was a little surprising that I had a Kuroshitsuji dream. Though, that’s normally now it goes with me – my dreams pull from whatever is stored in the back of my mind.
Oh, and just to note this tidbit, when I speak Ciel’s name, I pronounce it as the Japanese do: Shieru. シエル. I did so in the dream also, as well as anyone else who spoke my Ciel’s name. Just to be clear that I don’t consciously do it just to be a weaboo or ********. Any other pronunciation simply sounds too feminine and frail.
[ Note: internet died and then I babysat, so I submitted the entry late. I began writing this the moment after I got up. Yes, I got up at around 2pm. Don't judge me! I need the time to dream! I had this dream in the night of June 3. The above and mood below is from that time, right before I left to babysit. ]
Mood:  Mess of emotions
 Royul Crow-n · Fri Jun 05, 2009 @ 09:31am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
