D2 // CASTELLA NOVAK [DONE]

castella novak.

I’m giving up
This whole lie, this whole me
Call it out like a family
Instead I bide my time, get a ride
Until the rubber leaves the road

In every story there is a hero. The hero is usually that perfect guy, the one with the charming looks, to die for personality and the bravery and courage to sacrifice everything they have and love for the greater good. They are the ones that will stand in the face of danger and hold their head high. They aren’t afraid of death and they usually come from a rundown family with so many issues you begin to hate the person’s history, tears of sympathy flowing from your gullible eyes as you realise the torment that your charming hero has gone through. And there is always that really important thing. Whether they are a guy with no one and nothing, or the charming fella with them all, no matter what: they always get the girl. That has become so boring, dull and overdone that I don’t understand why we still keep reading books and coming up with new ideas and concepts for an overdone, boring storyline. Has the idea of being new and original become so foreign that we don’t even understand it anymore? I believe it has. I believe it has very much and so I am sitting here before you with pen to paper, fingers moving with ease over the keyboard and mind spinning to give you the tale of something brand new. To tell you the story of a girl (yes, a girl, not a boy) who did not look perfect, who was not charming in the least, she was all in all a coward in her own right, stubborn as hell and very much unable to understand the concept of love.

This is the story of Castella Novak.

Most stories jump straight into that area where you are thrown straight into the action. You are chucked into the image of some wild battle, or crazy scene where blood falls like rain, where danger has wrapped itself around every person within those words. Yeah that can be great fun, but in all honesty I hate it. I mean what is enjoyable at reading a story where you are hit with the action straight away. You sit there trying to picture some fabulous battle in all its glory and you don’t even know what the hero looks like. Now, I am not trying to say I am about to give you a detailed description of this perfect girl, with the blonde hair, blue eyes and charming smile. No, she is not a hero; no she is not the girl that shall fall to the critical act of being that damsel in distress. I am, however, about to give you a detailed description of the appearance of Castella, or Cas, the girl whom I have decided to focus this tale on. Is it boring of me to simply state the basics? Yes? I see, and I believe you are right; no muffin tastes good if it has nothing in it, just as no story holds power if there are no words to fill it. Very well, let’s begin.

Cas has blue eyes. Her eyes are not blue like those of the perfect model, but instead a deep shade of blue that only ever seems to stand out when she smiles. Apart from that they almost brink on grey. There is no special light within them, no flickering of gold or green. They are simply blue, not the colour of the ocean, or the colour of the sky, but the colour of your veins. Well the colour of my veins, who knows you could be red for all I knew. Haha. Poor joke? I know, sorry, I was never good at that. Okay so we have this girl Cas, she has blue eyes, she has dark brown hair. It falls to her shoulders and has the slightest of waves in it. Sometimes it annoys her because it never sits straight; it falls carelessly around her face. A face that, might I add, is round. It isn’t the round that comes when you carry extra weight, but the round that sticks on just the simple fact that she has a round face. It isn’t perfectly shaped with that amazing cheekbones like some of those males, it isn’t perfect, her skin isn’t flawless, and instead a smattering of freckles covers her cheeks. Her lips her light pink and more often then not they get so dry they crack. They aren’t luscious or smooth, they’re normal, they aren’t special in the way they are bright red, but the palest of pinks, edging on the colour of her skin.

Her nose is nice. I like her nose, it is a nice nose. Most people complain about their noses. So many people I know hate them, but Cas? She had the one that we all wanted. It was perhaps the only thing about her I could ever freely admit liking. My friends and I could name a part of her that was good, but it would always come to the point where every good thing about her wasn’t. She is far from perfect. Cas is perhaps the most flawed girl I know. Well anyway, now that you have her basic appearance (blue eyes, brown hair, freckles, perfect noes, thin legs and arms, and a too thin body) we can start the real story. The best way for this to work is to let her tell you herself. I asked her if she could please just tell me the most life changing story in her life and so she sat down beside me and she said, ”It was the day my faith in the Lord eluded me.”

Listen closely because I will only tell this tale once.

I believed god created the world. I believe that every being in the world was created by god and that I, like others who follow the same faith, are the ones that should guide and protect all of humanity. Every person walking on Earth is one of Gods creations. And this was my sole belief of how the world worked, and why it was so. Every good came because you deserved it and every bad came to those who seeked it. If it was not that way there would be no reason to hold faith. If it were not so then why would there be so many people like myself, falling onto their knees, eyes closing before whispering the words of a pray. Those long chains of words that had imparted itself onto this Earth since the beginning of time. But now that faith has slipped through my fingers like water slips through parted hands. And maybe I sound so unexplainably innocent by saying so, but ever since I can remember it was all I ever knew. No one ever told me different, I never actually heard the words come from my father’s lips, but Michael was always telling us. My other siblings would say it as well and although I think there were some like Uriel that didn’t believe it we never spoke against it. It was why I listened, blindly accepting everything my siblings told me. It seemed right, I mean I wouldn’t even be able to tell if they were lying right to my face.

In the beginning everything was the truth. When I went outside and finally allowed my training as a career to progress to the academy I was foolish. I let everything everyone says fall on ears that simply accepted it all, as absurd as the truth was. I guess I couldn’t quite see why people would lie to me. I’m learning though. Now the lies buried beneath sweet words is easier to see. Deandra and Sam are teaching me.

It was at night when I first met them. Well, it was when I first met Deandra. I’d just finished a nights training, my body ached all over, but then I always trained late, I had to keep myself fit and prepared for anything that came my way. Maybe I was also because I had nowhere else to go. I didn’t go outside, I didn’t party, or go to clubs, or go anywhere but the space between my house and the academy. So it was odd, that on that night I had decided to slip away from my path and follow the two men carrying the girl. I didn’t care anything about it at first. I saw weird stuff like that all the time and normally I didn’t think much into that kind of thing. I’ve always been one to keep my nose where it belongs, but some part of me felt as though I had to follow. It bugged me too much. I don’t know, just the situation and the way it was happening, instinct, I guess? Although I had never followed a foul feeling before. I guess this time had just been different, something had made me stray away and follow. It was meant to be. I followed, curiosity biting at me, but also some part of me forcing me to follow, knowing that whatever was about to happen was bad. And that meant helping this girl was the right thing to do.

So I followed them into this warehouse. Where they tied the girl down and onto a metal chair in the centre of the warehouse. She looked asleep. I did not think when I stepped out and kicked the first guy in the head. The thud that is made was satisfying and I had soon knocked out the next guy. I untied Deandra and I picked her up before carrying her out. She thinks I’m really weird. I take that and I say okay. She says I am incredibly awkward when I’m around other people, but I don’t know what she means, sometimes she hits me and shoves me away from her, especially when I stand to close. I don’t understand why. She did not complain when I carried her out of the warehouse, she doesn’t complain when her and Sammy hug, but when I stand right next to her apparently I am in her personal space. All I know is that ever since I met her I have had a friend. Sam says we are friends as well. And I guess it was those tow that opened my eyes and showed me just how cruel and harsh the world really was. Instead of going to the training centre everyday I know stick with them. My siblings don't like it, Uriel thinks I'm weak for going near anyone like them, they call me stupid. Deandra and Sam call me a friend.

Deandra says we are friends and the first time she said that, I asked her what it was.