[For Chapter I [Part I & II] please check my profile. Thank you.]

Part III - finally! I hope you guys like it. :) I recapped a bit in to part II, just to reveal some changed I had made to it, and to just recap on the events. I hope you like where the storyline is going. Any comments would be truly appreciated.

[Recap]

I stared down at my hand, which rested upon on a small silver jewelry box, upon which was engraved the following inscription: Luna Mater. Having had a bit of an education in different languages, the words seemed to read: Moon-Mother. Was it Latin or French? A bit of both it seemed.

The words puzzled me greatly. I tilted the lid of the little box, which in turn revealed a pendant of a mystical-type beauty and splendor. I had never seen anything quite like it: three moons – one full moon in the center, and two crescents on each side. The two crescents were a dark, ashen-silver in color, while the full moon was the darkest form of black – no, darker than that – a cosmic black hole of darkness.

I placed the large pendant on the palm of my hand – it was ice cold. So much so, that I nearly dropped it to the floor in a sudden reflex. As I tilted my hand back to its previous position, I noticed something move within the full moon. Immediately, I glanced into the dark center, hoping to discover what it was that I had seen just seconds prior. Ironically, its mesmerizing abilities kept me entranced…spellbound.

I let my thoughts wonder without a definite conclusion. The Sun dwelling inside of the Moon? Odd. I wonder how...arg, as if I’d ever be able to understand how something like that could be created, or manufactured, or whatever they call it. Well, it’s a beautiful thought, though...quite magical even.

Careful to not damage the fragile pendant, I wrapped the two silver ends of the chain around the back of my neck and clipped them together with little effort. Hastily, I picked out some clothes to wear for my morning out – a light pink lace shirt, dark blue jeans, and my ever-present black sneakers. I combed roughly through my dark curls, neglecting any form of makeup, for no amount of blusher, mascara, or lip gloss could hide who and what I truly was – a nothing, headed for and towards nothing. Then, grabbing my backpack, I ran out the door, slipping quickly past Macbeth before she could even say a word.

I ran across the damp, crowded streets of Al Jizah, not caring where I went, as long as it was far away from the prison so many called home. The gray clouds poured down their floodgates of depression upon me; yet, I didn’t care, not anymore. The entire city was covered with pools of water from the storm, which had raged itself so violently during the previous night – quite unusual for such a desert of a city, where rain was little, and storms unheard of. A sharp, ice-cold wind ripped through my chest, causing me to come to an abrupt halt – gasping for air.

A sudden piercing sound – the screeching of tires – sent me swirling around into its oncoming direction. I felt a silent scream – preceded by two words – echo through my throat, “my…mother,” yet the words were barely audible, so much so that I wondered if the words weren’t a mere thought, instead of actual uttered words. A silver Mercedes Benz CLC-Class slammed its brakes, but to no visible avail did it come to any stop. I saw or heard nothing; everything before me was a pale white that soon faded to complete darkness.

[End of recap.] Part III:

I was frozen.

Images…colors – so many – all of which were crystal-clear, flashing before me. Dark shades of purple, scarlet, gold, all overlain with images of small children. Each of the children sat against two distinct pillars, which stood parallel from one another. Between the two pillars sat a…woman, upon a chair, or so it seemed.

The architecture was that of ancient Rome, or Greece, or perhaps from an even more ancient civilization unknown to the modern world. Unexpectedly, the arms of the woman came into view, and I saw Her delicate, pale, tender – breathtaking – skin, it was otherworldly to behold. She was cradling a small child in Her arms, a girl it seemed, for she had dark hair, which reached past her shoulders. I was unsure, but something about the girl reminded me of someone I knew, but I could not quite comprehend as to whom.

The visions were scrambled, uneven. I yearned to see the woman’s face, but it was only vaguely visible, disappearing in between the many faces of the children. Was I dead? I don’t know; and that fact, regardless of it being true or not, held little interest to my mind.

I wanted to move closer to the vision, but I was frozen to one solitary place, amidst the enveloping darkness. I fixed my immediate gaze upon the child in the woman’s arms; she was cradling her protectively…she was a mother – the child’s mother. Ever so slowly, the child turned her gaze from the face of the woman towards mine, and what stared into my eyes horrified me. It was I, as a child, perhaps age three.

The child’s (or rather, my) eyes stared at me intently for a short time, and I saw within them both my past and, what seemed to be, my present. My life played like a recorded film through the depths of her ocean-deep, mystical eyes, and I found myself a distant spectator of the chronological events – from my birth, to this morning in the shower…cold water dripping from my ghost-like face. Each instant of my life appeared clear and vivid before me; so much so that I was able to observe even the faintest of detail. I dreaded the memory – the ghastly incident – that her eyes were climaxing to, and I suddenly realized that the child (if she truly were me) did, too.

I cringed internally at the incomprehensible sight of my dieing mother. The pain it brought could only be compared to that which I had experienced the day of her death. However, was it truly the same – truly? It felt so much…crueler.

I became abruptly aware of a wet liquid dripping down both my cheeks. Tears. The visions stopped, and tears welled up in the small child’s eyes, until they overflowed, gently pouring down her tender cheeks; she was in pain…also. My vision was not blurred to what was occurring before me, regardless of the ocean of tears in my eyes. I became aware of the sudden urge to walk closer to the woman, even though my mind screamed profusely at me, It’s not possible! Stay where you are! She wouldn’t want you anywhere near her!

I ignored the warnings – austerely, so.

I took a dawdling, rigid step forward, testing whether or not it were possible to move. Relief poured over me as my body moved forward with ease. Despite the resounding fear aching through me like a creature from the depths of Hades – threatening to liberate itself from within me – I stalked forward, my hands shaking timorously. As I approached the mysterious, beautiful woman, the small children surrounding her stood and walked away, each to his own desired direction; and to my utmost shock, so did the child in her arms.

Up until now, her face had been hidden from me, amidst a dark shadow, but as I drew closer, the darkness slowly disappeared, and her now clear facial features sent me into near hysterics. Beyond all manner of possible doubt, she was unlike anything I had ever seen or imagined. The woman’s face was positioned slightly above mine, and her still, graceful arms rested nonchalantly upon her bosom, now that she was not holding the…child. Her face was a breathtaking ashen-pale in color; so much so, that it reminded me of the moon, for it was the only possible comparison to both the color and the texture of its beauty and perfection.

Her lips, a perfect pink, were positioned in a straight, serious line across her tender face, yet it was not a frown – very far from it – and, therefore, it was soft and soothing to look upon. Her eyes were shut, as if she was not even aware of my presence there next to her, but I knew that this could not have been the case – could it? The Goddess-like beauty that emanated from the woman’s entire being sent my head, and everything around me, spinning in fast circular motions.

Without warning, she placed her left hand upon my right, curling her delicate, soft fingers around my palm. This sent waves of shock through my body, causing me to shiver harshly for but a second. Then with her left hand, she placed it in front of me, palm open, as if expecting a gift I had not known I was required to give. I had nothing to give her; I was dead.

I felt another wave of tears ripping through my eyes, causing them to burn profusely; they, too, flowed down my cheeks, just as before. I blinked eagerly, trying to rid my eyes of the pain; however, as I did so, a single teardrop flowed down from my face, threatening to fall upon the woman’s lap. A sudden gush of thoughts rushed through my mind: What if it falls on her? She’ll be sickened at me! In an impulsive reflux, I tried to catch it, but my momentary reaction – to my utmost horror – was a mere second too late.

With her palm still open, the woman caught my tear in the same second I had failed to, and shut her hand over it swiftly and with deliberate force. In that same moment, she opened her eyes – a blissful brilliant lavender in color, each surrounding a pitch-black iris – and parted her lips, as if to speak; but she said nothing. Her facial expression changed instantly from serene, to that of…longing? It was impossible to tell in certainty.

A gasp of terror ripped through my chest, as my eyes perceived those of the woman. A sudden flow of crimson-stained tears poured from her enchanting eyes, overflowing onto her ashen face; the blood did not cease, regardless of my screams. She did not release her gentle grasp from my hand, nor did she open her right hand, which held my tear. I leaned forward, extending my left hand to touch the woman’s bloodied face, to wipe away the blasphemy thereof, but a strong gush of wind – if such existed in death – pulled my limp body away from hers in one swift blow, until it forced her to release the gentle grip with which she held onto me.

“Miss,” a faint voice called out to me, “are you alright?”

I fought rigidly against the force pulling me away from the beautiful woman, but it was much stronger than my willpower. The woman closed her eyes, as if in pain, and vanished from my vision.

My eyes flung open I was breathless. I was in agony. I was alive.