Simon Curtis (simon_curtis) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2009-05-26 10:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | ophelia, simon |
Tuesday, 11/13/07
Who: Simon and Ophelia
What: Meeting Simon's dad
Where: The Cafeteria
When: Lunchtime
Rating: PG 13
Ophelia awoke early that morning and did her arm stretches with some weight-lifting, a new habit as she was determined to continue down the path towards forging larger items. The exercises made her sweaty, so she took a quick shower and dressed in a baggy sweater and jeans like usual. Her unruly hair was free over her shoulders and she brushed it out of her face as she headed to the cafeteria. Eating alone was normal for her, nothing new, but she had hoped to sit with Fisher during meals since she met him. His being in the hospital prevented that and she still worried about him. She was not feeling very hungry then and decided to go with a bowl of cereal and an apple to satisfy her appetite. Cornflakes were her favorite and she got a bowl of that, remembering to take a glass of orange juice as well. Now, just to find a table. This had to be the worst part of meals, knowing which tables were free and which weren't, because she hated to offend anyone... or make enemies.
As she walked past a few tables, she happened to see something strange - not as strange any more, since she was getting used to her ability. A tall spirit with a slightly glowing outline followed a guy walking and sitting down at a table. If she could see him, surely it had to mean he was more powerful than other spirits. Ophelia walked closer with her tray in hand until she was a few feet away from the guy and the spirit, studying the latter with a noticeable stare. Another one! She squinted a little and wondered if the spirit of the older man was related to the guy somehow because they almost looked similar...so she thought. Right? She soon became deep in thought, considering the possiblities and trying to tell if she could see him clearer by really focusing. It would hurt her head afterwards, but maybe it was worth it.
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Simon was hungry in the morning. He was constantly growing, with metabolism that refused to let him stay satisfied for more than two hours at the most. So he loaded up his breakfast tray with everything- eggs, bacon, ham, toast, pancakes, sausage, cereal. He could eat all of it and then some. To drink he had oj, milk and a glass of soda. Now that he didn't have a parent to monitor his eating habits, he was drinking a lot more soda. Sitting down, Simon dove in eagerly, wrapping some scrambled eggs and a sausage link inside a pancake.
Simon noticed Ophelia walking across the cafeteria, mostly because her hair was so incredibly red. It was really pretty, like a swarm of butterflies hovering over her head. He watched her a little, trying to be subtle. She kept looking his way, but not directly at him. Kind of over his shoulder. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if there was someone behind him. No, he was by himself. So what was she looking at? He watched her, seeing if she would notice he was blatantly staring at her. She looked pretty deep in thought. "Um... what are you staring at?" His voice was kinda deep, and twangy, clearly from one of the southern states.
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She jumped as she heard the guy speak, so intent on trying to make the man besides him clearer that it took her by surprise. Her tray tilted and the bowl tipped over, spilling milk and cereal, not to mention the apple fell off and landed on the floor. Whoops. Ophelia set the tray on the table, bent down to pick up her apple, blushing heavily. "Sorry, I was staring! I didn't mean to stare," she said. "I know it's rude." She doubted she could say what she saw without sounding crazy because he wasn't a medium too like Fisher. So at the moment, words failed her. She played with the edges of her sweater's sleeves and her heart raced with panic. There was no easy way to say this.
"I'm looking at the man behind you." Ophelia glanced at Simon for a moment, her face still tinged red. "He's kind of dead. I know it's really creepy to hear a ghost is following you, and I won't tell you if you think so, but he looks a little like you. Maybe." Saying this seemed very rude to her and a sinking feeling started to grow in her stomach. "I'm really sorry. I should go." She plonked the apple on her milk covered tray, embarrassed, and turned to walk away. Being a medium was definitely not the best way to start a conversation or to make friends and she should not have opened her mouth at all. Next time, she kept silent about anything ghost related. Sword topics, that was the way to go.
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Just like Ophelia hadn't meant to stare, Simon hadn't meant to scare her. He cringed as her breakfast went scattering. "Ooh," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I was just wondering what was so interestin' next to me." As far as he could tell, there was nothing but empty space and a vacant chair beside him. She seemed really nervous about something, though. Was he making her nervous? He didn't mean to be. But he wasn't exactly doing anything.
He raised an eyebrow at her, having to look behind himself again to see absolutely nothing. But then she said... dead. There was a dead person behind him? A ghost? Someone that looked like him? Simon stared at Ophelia, trying to decide if she was messing with him or not. Decidedly not. The girl was shaking in her shoes, fidgeting nervously. And walking away. "No, wait!" he said, getting up and touching her sleeve. "You didn't bother me, I just... didn't expect to hear something like that with my breakfast." He motioned back to the table, indicating she should sit. "I know Fisher's a medium, I just thought he was the only one." But even if Fisher had come up to him, his reaction wouldn't have been any different. "I dunno who this ghost is, but he's probably just some lost spirit. I don't know anybody who died."
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Not for the first time, she wished she couldn't see spirits like most people and had super strength - something that would help her make swords. Seeing and talking to dead people was just bound to send her to a place with white padded walls where she'd stay forever. Interesting next to him, indeed. She'd seen spirits for a while, but still the sight of them creeped her out a little, especially when they followed a person who couldn't see them. It was weird, the whole lot of it. It was better if she left now and tried to make a good impression on someone else. With luck. She couldn't blame him for not expecting it because it was not the nice sort of news people received at breakfast. No, they wanted to hear something pleasant, like they aced a test or whatever. "Yeah, it's not the kind of thing to hear this early in the day. Sorry."
His gesture for her to sit was relieving and she returned to the table, sliding her tray onto it and taking a seat across from him. Eating could happen later. Ophelia brightened a little at the name. "I met Fisher. He's really nice. But yeah, his ability is stronger than mine. I can't see spirits so clearly all the time," she said. Should she really tell him if there was someone related following him around as a ghost? She had no idea how to break that kind of news to him. Hesitantly, she turned to the spirit, concentrating to see him as she asked what his name was. "Oh, um, do you know someone named Arliss? He told me that was his name." For Simon's sake, she hoped he didn't. It seemed wrong to tell him her name at this crucial time.
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He smiled at her reassuringly. He didn't think she was crazy. After all, there were stranger things in the world than ghosts. "I don't think that's the kind of thing that goes well with any meal," he joked. He plopped back down across from her, picking up a piece of toast and taking a small bite. This didn't bother him like it might most people. He'd seen the rooms in the tunnels that looked like torture chambers, and he knew what kind of place the school used to be. It would be stupid not to think that there were lost spirits here. He actually felt bad that Ophelia had to see them, even if they were only a blur.
Simon shook his head, smiling. See? Nothing to worry about. He knew it was. No one in his family or close circle of friends had died. "No, I don't know anyone with... that name..." Oh, but he did. His face turned white, his eyes wide. He stared at Ophelia, disbelieving. It suddenly dawned on him that he did know someone named Arliss, someone who happened to look a lot like him. His father. "Oh my God," he whispered, unable to help but look back over his shoulder, see the nothingness, and turn back to Ophelia. His eyes were almost pleading with her to tell him she was just kidding, that this was a sick joke. "T-that's my... that's my dad..." His voice was strangled, choking on emotion. "No," he said, shaking his head, "that can't be right... it's gotta be someone else. That can't be right."
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At least he was relatively unphased by knowing she could see ghosts, which was comforting. If everyone was like Simon and Fisher, she might have an easier time making friends than she thought. Maybe she just needed to relax. Ophelia gave him a small smile in return and wondered if she should eat her apple since it fell on the floor. Probably not. "I'll be right back," she told him and hurried to the counter to take another apple. She went to his table, took a bite of the fruit and ate it. Slowly but surely, things were getting better in this place. Simon looked like a friendly person, or she really hoped he was. It was possible she was so hopeful that she would try to befriend anyone although she hoped she had more sense than that.
So he didn't know anyone with that name. She breathed a sigh of relief, but then his expression changed. Oh no, this couldn't be true. Ophelia hated to be right and felt even worse when Simon revealed it was his father. She had difficulty imagining what it would be like to lose her own father and as her throat started to swell, tears prickled the back of her eyes. Did she have to answer him? "Oh. I'm sorry. I really wish I didn't have to say something so horrible. Maybe I'm wrong. Do you want to know?" Her voice was quiet and hesitant due to fear. Her gaze moved to Arliss, who looked slightly regretful, she thought, but it was becoming more of an effort to see him. All the ghosts around here had made her use her ability a lot more frequently, a slow drain on her energy. In fact, right now her head started to hurt as she continued to look at the spirit.
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They say that when you hear bad news, even if you don't want to, deep down you know it's true. That wasn't the case with Simon at all. He really did not know what to think, whether or not this could possibly be real. He didn't want it to be true. Not because he would miss his father, and not because his dad was young and deserved to live longer. Because it would be horrible that the first time he spoke to his father in over ten years was through a medium. That was just unfair.
"Of course I want to know," he said, his voice hoarse. "This isn't something I could just walk away from. I... if it's my dad... I need to know. Okay. Ask him. Ask him to tell me something, to prove it somehow. Just... I dunno. Whatever you do. Please." He looked close to tears, but was determined to hang on until at least he knew for sure.
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Now Ophelia hesitated even more because Simon was in such disbelief. What had happened to his father that he wouldn't have known about? She had to know the whole story in order to form an opinion on the matter, but it wasn't as if she could just ask him. Maybe she would receive some information from Simon's father, if it was him. Why was she even considering doing this? Ophelia wasn't sure she could refuse such an earnest plea from someone, so she nodded briefly. "Could you give some proof or something?" she asked Arliss. Not the most brilliant question in the world, but better blunt than it taking ages to get any information.
Arliss told her a couple of things and she relayed them to Simon. "He left when you were four... and you're from Cullman, Alabama?" Was that enough proof for him to believe this man was his father? It sounded as though he hadn't heard from him in a while or something, which worried her even more. This whole experience made her feel awful, because somehow she wanted to bring the man back to life to make Simon happy. What an impossible thought.... her heart was soon to break into pieces at this rate.
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Holy Jesus Christ. Simon's jaw dropped, staring at Ophelia. This was information that maybe she could have gotten from somewhere, if she'd been really dedicated in screwing with him. But he couldn't believe that she was. She looked so genuinely upset by having to deliver this news, he didn't believe she was just messing with him. But the alternative was so much worse. "Oh my God..." he whispered, shaking his head. "You... he's... oh, God..." He couldn't form a complete sentence. He suddenly felt sick, like he was going to either pass out or throw up.
"I can't... I have to go," he said quickly, getting up from the table. Tears were stinging his eyes, spilling over onto his cheeks. His hands were shaking fiercely. "I'm sorry, I... oh my God." He walked awya quickly, his breaths catching in his throat. He didn't want Ophelia to think it was her fault, that he was mad at her. But the thought of staying there another minute, another second, was more than he could stand. He would find the girl later, whose name he didn't even know, and apologize. For now, though... for now he needed to be alone.