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Ineffable: Adjective: Too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words

Ineffable

This mission to see the ineffable beauty of creation is bringing an ineffable amount of exhaustion and soreness to my limbs. I’m lagging behind everyone in our group to the point where I can’t even see the person in front of me, and it’s not because it’s dark. Before we got separated, I heard the kids in front of me talking about how much of a pain it is that I came along. About how I should have just stayed at home.

If my parents didn’t make me, I wouldn’t have come.

Rearranging my headlamp, I huff out a puffy white cloud into the cold night air. Do those kids think talking smack about me while I’m right behind them is going to help the situation? Did my parents consider that this little trip might actually make it so kids like me less than before, seeing as though I have been slowing down the whole group?

Of course, I guess that isn’t the case anymore. I can’t see them or their flashlights. Forget following people, I’m following footprints like some tracker in a sasquatch show. No. Not going to thing about sasquatch or how it’s rumored to live in these woods. They probably just said that to scare me.

A twig snaps behind me and I freeze.

Ineffable.

Now, that’s a great word to describe my fear. Even if it isn’t sasquatch, it could be a bear or a cougar. It could even be a person. What if it’s some kind of psychopath? Why have I stopped?

My feet begin moving again of their own volition at a quicker pace than I was moving in before. Fatigue was settling into my bones before, but now a shot of adrenaline has given me a heady amount of energy to fuel my fight or flight instinct.

Another twig snaps.

Then, another.

I can hear large footprints catching up to me. I’m being chased.

Before I know it, I’m being tackled to the ground. I scream for help, but still can’t see or hear anyone I know ahead of me. A large hand curves around my head and covers my mouth. Not sasquatch, then. At least there’s that.

“You shouldn’t travel alone in these woods, little girl,” a deep male voice whispers in my ear.

I’m not a little girl. I’m almost fifteen, but I’m not about to argue with Scary Guy. I struggle and kick to get him off my back, but he doesn’t even budge a little.

“Shhh,” he hisses into my ear. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he coos.

Ineffable.

That’s a good way to describe how incredulous I feel at that statement. Beside the fact that I’m all scraped up from being landed on and I’m sure there are bruises forming where he’s holding my wrists behind my back, he can’t really expect me to believe he doesn’t intend to harm me.

He continues to shush and whisper calming words until I give up struggling. If he thinks it’s because I trust him, he’s crazy. The adrenaline has worn off for the moment and I feel a little like I’m going to pass out.

“There we go, princess. Now, are you going to be good and come along with me quietly?”

“No.”

He sighs. “Very well, then.” I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head and everything goes black.

~ ~ ~

Ineffable.

Perfect word for the strangeness of waking up in a giant room with expensive dark furniture and decorated in sapphire blue with white accents, reminiscent of a sky between twilight and night.

Glancing at my hands, I see there are no injuries. How long have I been out? What am I doing here? Why did this sociopath keep me alive rather than kill me on the spot? At least, I’m assuming he’s a sociopath. There’s no way he could have known that I would be out in the middle of the forest by myself. Then again, given the opulence of the room, he could be a psychopath. Ugh. It doesn’t matter what kind of insane he is. I have to get out of here.

Throwing the blankets off, I head for the door, only for it to be opened in my face. Backpedaling, I run behind a couch as if it will protect me from the strangers entering my room. One is a middle-aged man with a golden circlet, of all things, around his head. Behind him is a younger man, perhaps a few years older than me. Each have long black hair, and midnight blue eyes.

“This is the one?” the older man asks.

“Yes. She’s perfect,” the younger one responds. His voice reveals his identity as the man who kidnapped me.

“I’m not the one,” I snap. They both lift their right eyebrows at me. Are they father and son? “Send me home. Now.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, young lady. My son has chosen you, you see,” the older man explains soothingly, as if that makes any difference.

“I don’t care if he’s chosen me. I’m not–”

“You are. And you will stay here. I’ve been watching you a long time. I know you are right for me,” the younger one interrupts.

“No.”

They both sigh. “No matter. We’ll just keep her under until the time is right for her transformation,” the older man says to the younger.

“Transformation?”

The younger man scoffs. “Of course. You don’t expect me to be of any use like that, do you?”

I frown, but before I can say anything, the older man is suddenly in front of me, placing his hands on both my cheeks, and I’m losing consciousness again.

“Don’t worry, dear. We’ll take care of you,” he says.

Ineffable.

Best to describe the hopelessness I feel as I fall unconscious.

To Be Continued…

I’m back!!!!!

Enervate: Verb: 1: To reduce the mental or moral vigor of 2: To lessen the vitality or strength of

Enervate

“Honey! It’s time to wake up!” Mom calls from the other side of the door.

“Muh,” I groan like Frankenstein’s monster. She laughs heartily and I hear her footsteps quiet as she walks away from the door.

I don’t want to wake up.

How can she laugh at a time like this, anyway?

Dragging myself out of bed, I walk over to my full-length mirror to examine myself before donning my library assistant uniform. After rationing and mandatory physical training took effect, my whole family lost weight. I wish I could actually enjoy it, but it’s not like it really matters whether or not I’m attractive to the opposite gender when I’m going to be assigned a husband in a little over ten hours anyway.

With a sigh, I walk to my closet and pull out the white jumpsuit and the long navy blue suit jacket I’m required to wear at the resource desk of the library. Pulling my hair back into a chignon, I pin it in place with a butterfly clip. Each day, we are allowed one personal accessory to wear in public. A wedding band won’t count since it will be added to my uniform after the ceremony.

Applying the requisite foundation, blush, nude eye color, mascara, and clear lip gloss, I consider what my husband might be like. Sometimes they pair opposites, like Mom and Dad. She is a history teacher and my dad is a car mechanic. Sometimes they go for similarities. Law enforcement partners are often matched. This time, though, it could go very differently for me.

At the beginning of the year, they started pairing some of us with them. My best friend, Tammena got matched with one and I haven’t seen her since. She was in last quarter’s coupling event. Although we knew we wouldn’t be in the same event, there was the hope we could at least stay near each other, so we could remain friends.

Standing in front of my closet again, I trace my fingers over the white chiffon of my ceremonial dress. It shouldn’t have surprised me when they made the announcement near the end of last year that they would be taking some of our own. Although they never came out and said it, many assumed that was their reasoning for invading our world: their distinct lack of females.

The takeover was swift and chaos was rampant for a few days while they took control, but once we got it through our heads that resistance was, indeed, futile, people slowly began to fall in line. There are rumors of a resistance, but if they’re doing anything, they’re not doing much to make a dent.

I sluff my way down the stairs and plop into a chair at the table, where a bowl of vanilla yogurt and granola wait for me. At least breakfast is good today.

“Come on, sweetie. You need to enervate yourself. It’s a big day today,” Mom prods.

“First of all, that word doesn’t mean what you think it means. Second, why should I be excited? I’m going to end up like Tammena. They’re going to take me away and–”

“Stop,” Mom hushes me with wide eyes. “You never know when they’re listening,” she whispers.

Shoving the bowl away from me, I get up to leave.

“You must eat your food, Lorena Wood,” a male voice resounds from the speaker in the living room. “Please be seated and resume your meal.”

Swallowing down an infuriated growl, I take my seat again. Mom gives me a warning look and I pull the bowl back to myself. Like a soldier, I eat the food quickly, not saying another word to the woman. She may have given birth to me, but she’s insane if she thinks I’m excited for this sham of a match.

“It could be good for you, to end up with one of them.”

I give her an incredulous look, pinch my lips together, and run out the door, slamming it behind me before she can say anything else. Good for me? Good to be told what to do for the rest of my life? Good to be forced to bear children of someone I don’t know? Good to be matched with an alien from outer space, who just happens to have enough DNA in common with me to be compatible.

No. This isn’t good for me. There’s no way it will be good for me.