Stuff of Boredom

Blood runs from the gash on my arm, shining in the light. Teasing me as it escapes my emptying veins. For a moment I can see right through my hand, but am yet again dismayed by the sight of my translucent skin. I watch my weakened, glowing pulse begin to grow stronger again. Another failed attempt for the books. I wonder what I'm doing wrong - I am doing this the right way, afterall.

Smiling cynically I stand, snatching a bottle away from the many that are on the counter. I know I got the right bottle because it is grey - the only grey bottle there. For a moment, I simply stare at the liquid held within as it ripples in time with my pulse. I come out of my trance at the sound of a drop of my blood hitting the floor. Swiftly, I twist the cap off. Setting the opened bottle back down, I open a small blue-white bow. I curse once I discover that I had run out of cotten swabs.

I take the bottle in my hand once more, clenching my teeth as I pour some of the liquid on my wound. It hurts like utter Hell, but it's nesscessary. If I don't want scars, that is. I found out that those can be quite a nuisance, since before I learned about the potion, I had to avoid many of the tribe. They look down on the ones like me. It's rumoured that they kill us sometimes, if we are to far gone. Trust me, I'm way too far gone - I'd be blasted on the spot. No questions asked.

Once the horrid pain had gone, I washed both the blood and the liquid off in the tub of water beside me that They always refill every morning. They are the Gods of my kind. They don't really care what we do - just as long as we all keep worshipping Them, They wouldn't care if an epidemic broke out! They would just make more of us.

I guess I got carried away - my arm has begun to hurt. By now, I notice, the water is a nice shade of blue. It almost looks like what humans call, "antifreeze". But deadlier to those not of my race. Call it a good thing if you want, but my kind can't be eaten by anything lest they have a death-wish. Thus my races' population has gone up fairly high. Hell, I'm pretty sure we could rule the whole damn world if we wanted to. Every single inch.

I put the cap back on the bottle and put it back in its spot, all the while staring at the water. It's a pity our blood is only deadly to other races. Looking away, I got a glance at my arm. It was already beginning to heal. It is at the scabbing process, now. I had to fight the urge to pick it off and start the process anew. But I knew that if I did that, I would have to wait for it to heal again. By that time, I would be late for the ceremony and the Elders would be suspicious - I was NEVER late. NEVER!

Stupid - I didn't wait for the wound to finish healing. I fluttered my wings and flew straight out my non-existant door in a flurry of leaves.

I arrived at the ceremony with seconds to spare. I'm sure one Elder saw my wound - it had just finished healing in the few seconds that I got there. That, and he looked outraged. If not absolutely furious. I would have laughed - but that would have brung me against the whole tribes wrath, not just the Elders. I stared straight ahead, though watched the Elders from the corner of my eye. They were whispering amongst themselves. Turning my attention to those around me, I was somewhat releived to see that no one else had noticed that there was anything wrong.

Finally - I thought the Elders had gotten the human disease of the memory - one of the Elders stood with his staff pointed straight at me. Everything stopped any everyone turn their attention towards me. I swear, the silence was... Actually unnerving.

The Elder that had his staff pointed at me said something about death. It was actually the same thing they say about everyone of my type. Everyone gasped, then began chanting... Deja vu... This always happened to us.
Now it was my turn.

~End