I looked through the cartons of apples, delicately sorting through one of them with one hand. I expertly found the darkest red one, the sweetest and juiciest, and added it to my basket. It was just another day in the supermarket… …Until I noticed the girl behind the stalls. She was watching me through the narrow crack between the apple stall and the jewelry stall. I was heading over to the jewelry stall when she caught my gaze, and I couldn't help but stare back at her, taking in every little detail. She had a waterfall of hair as black as night cascading down her back and framing her shoulders in waves, and her skin was as white as snow. She had on a violet hoodie and royal-blue leggings. One of her hoodie sleeves was cut and frayed around the elbow, her wrist and forearm wrapped up. The cuff of her whole sleeve was a nice blush-pink, and her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of blue, halfway between sky-blue and royal-blue. Her eyes themselves held pain and sorrow that was visible even from where I was, and I felt myself be overcome with the need to help her in any way I could. I squeezed between the two stalls, ignoring the shout from the apple stall manager (“hey, you haven’t paid yet!”), and made my way over to her. At first, I was afraid that she might not want me near her, but she didn’t seem fazed by me. In fact, she even seemed relaxed, as if she wanted me with her. She watched me calmly as she waited for me to get within normal conversation distance from her. “An féidir leat cabhrú liom le do thoil?” she asked. I grimaced. This girl didn’t look foreign, but it was clear that she probably only knew whatever language she was speaking. “I’m sorry…I only speak English.” She seemed to recognize my tone…and quite possibly the language i had said. “Béarla?” she asked. “Tá Gaeilge agam.” Well, she seemed smart enough. Perhaps we could compromise. I was pretty sure she said she spoke Irish, and that, judging by her tone, she needed help. “Well…what do you need help with?” “Cabhrú?” she tried to clarify. I hesitated. “Um…sure, cabhrú.” I was only repeating what she had said, but she seemed to be satisfied with that. I was unsure what i had just said, but she continued talking as if i would understand, but she did it slowly and clearly, as if she knew i really didn't understand her. “Treoracha,” she said, then pointed to the apple in my basket. “Úll.” I took the apple out of my basket and held it out to her, repeating the word. She nodded and said it once more, and I handed it to her, which seemed to take her by surprise. “Ní raibh mé ag lorg ach treoracha!” she protested, trying to give it back, but i stopped her with a shake of my head. “I can get another,” I told her, giving it to her once more. “It’s yours. Consider it my treat.” She blushed, looking awkward for a moment, then focused her gaze on me once more. “Cad is ainm duit?” she pointed to the marketplace business name on my basket. “do ainm?” Oh, she was asking for my name. “My name is Lilith,” I told her. She nodded. “Lilith,” she repeated. “Is mise Eileen!” Okay, so, an Irish name. It all made sense now. “Is there anything else I can cabhrú you with?” I asked her, and she shook her head. She then took her phone out of her pocket, which was buzzing. She looked at it for a moment, then motioned for me to come closer. Her startling blue eyes flashed with yellow, and I blinked and it was gone. My own eyes were probably just playing tricks on me, but I found myself moving closer before I could second-guess it, as if I were under a spell of hers that only lasted a second. She held the phone between us, put her good hand over my mouth, and then put it on speaker before she accepted the call. “It took you long enough to answer!” a female voice snapped at her. “WHERE ARE YOU?! I’ve been looking for you everywhere, and YOUR SISTER is FREAKING OUT!!! Our own QUEEN is GETTING SUSPICIOUS!!!” “Scíth a ligean, a rí na drámaíochta, tá mé ceart go leor!” Eileen snapped at him in reply, which made him pause. “...are you speaking Irish? Isleen, WHY ARE YOU SPEAKING IRISH??? Just get YOUR BUTT back to THIS KINGDOM under the order of ITS PHYSICIAN before I go and DRAG YOU BACK MYSELF!!!” Whoever was on the other line hung up then, and Eileen/Isleen took her hand off of my mouth. “My real name is Isleen,” she then told me in an American accent that was just as perfect as her Irish accent. “I’m sorry for my friend’s theatrics. I know you’ll have a lot of questions, but I can't answer them here, out in the open. Do you have any parents or guardians I will have to speak to?” I shook my head, numbed speechless. “Uhhh…no. No, it’s just me.” She nodded. “Good. Again, I can't answer a lot of your questions where people can overhear, but I'll just say this: I am not human. Nobody in the kingdom where I live is. My world is falling apart in war. I need you.” ||CONT. IN NOTES AND CREDITS||
“What can I do?” I asked her, suspicious. “I’m just a normal teenage girl with no living relations! I break into stores and parking lots to sleep! What can I possibly do for you?!” “I know just as much as you do,” she sighed. “I wish I had more answers. I was tasked with watching you. My sister saw you in possible futures both good and bad. In all of those possible futures, you were the savior of my kind in some way or another. My queen suddenly told me to quit watching you a week ago, thinking that we had our armies and our magic and that those things were enough, but I've heard enough of my sister’s warnings to know that our queen is wrong. I wouldn’t be coming to you if I had even the slightest bit of faith in the queen, Lilith. I understand if you don’t want to do this, but I'm begging that you at least give it a try.” What was there to say? Even if the Irish and the needing help was a test, I had apparently passed it. It was pretty hard to believe that she had just said magic, but I suppose it made enough sense. Perhaps that spell had been some sort of worthiness spell, drawing in some people and repelling others? I couldn’t feel any pull anymore, so it must have been turned off, if it had even existed in the first place. However, there was this certain look in those hypnotic azul eyes of hers that said that what she was saying was true. That look also said that this girl meant well, but she was afraid. Her home was being torn apart, and the only person who could keep it going had told her to give up. This girl was committing treason to seek outside help. “I suppose if you bring me back, you’ll get less of a punishment,” I said with a light laugh. “That’s not why I'm asking,” she flatly replied, looking mildly annoyed. I grinned. “I know. It’s my turn to ask a question now, though.” She rolled her eyes. “Alright.” “...when can I come with you?” ___________________________________________ NEXT: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/752780734
