The White City

Her hair tumbled down along her shoulder in a loose braid. Her dark clothes covered only enough skin for her not to freeze. She tilted her head and focused on the star blue eyes gazing back at her from the reflection in the old shop window. Though her focus was on herself, she didn't miss the glares and stares from the people striding past her. They couldn't seem to stop looking. Not a single one walked right past her without a single glance. For a long time, she’d been standing in front of that window, wondering why it had to be her. "Hey!" Her head traveled a little to the left, where a middle-aged man stood on the other side of the glass, banging on the pane. "Yeah, you, the weird one! Get away from my window! You're scaring all my customers away!" Laylah lifted her eyebrows. Never in the ten years, she had walked past his shop had there been a single person actually inside there. However, she shrugged, a sad smile gliding over her features, and twisted to walk away. Behind her, he left her a few last words her ears didn't miss, "she's crazy! I tell you, God, she's crazy!" She sighed, wandering around with her head hanging low and her arms creping around her body to cover up. It was close to noon. Everyone stormed out of their workplaces to stride their everyday path down to the church in the middle of town. Laylah wasn't religious, she didn't believe in an almighty God who helped you at every turn in life. Someone who watched over you. Yet, she couldn't think of one thing there made the church resistible. Its tower stretched over the highest buildings. Its pearl white surface captured the sun and highlighted every twist and turn along its edges. Laylah glanced up for a moment, wind blowing her hair. The tower glared back at her, sending a stray of sun over her face. In some way she didn't see the sun in strays, she saw something else. A light path of crystals calling out to her. Her hand reached out to touch it. But, as quick as it had appeared, as quickly did it disappear again and crept into its hiding. Laylah glanced around. Didn't anyone else see it? The bells rang out as she stood there and admired the beauty of the half-empty street. The late runners were flashing past her and down the street to get inside the two massive oak three double doors before the bell had rung ten times. It was almost a crime to be late to church. She followed the stream down the street towards the illuminating church. She pulled her pitch-black hood over her head and swiped her long white hair underneath her shirt. It kept the stares away for a bit. Outside the church, the last raven heads crept through the doors, where the pastors right hand, Pablo, stood. He gave each a little piece of paper with the daily schedule written on. Laylah had only gotten her hands on it once when it had flown to her feet in an abandoned alley. Her stomach growled as her body lowered itself on the bench across from the church. Now there was only the town square between her and the holy almighty whatever in her town. Pablo glanced at the watch hanging from his chest pocket, watching his surroundings. It was hard for her to exactly know what was going on with him, but he seemed stressed. Him kicking after the marble stairs only strengthened her belief. In the corner of her eyes, a figure was running over the square at full speed. Pablo, who had gotten an eye on the figure too sighed out in relief, putting his watch back in his pocket. Laylah turned so she came to face the young man running towards the church. Though he had the body and physique like a young man he still hadn't lost the last traces of boyhood. His face was shaven and his brownish eyes were dull as the many others. Nevertheless, to Laylah it appeared he had a small spark of something in the middle. It kept him interesting and fearful. White clothing clung to his body, like everyone else. His fancy suit put him in the high end of the social status. He was nothing like the man from the small shop or the every day boys running around in the streets. He jumped up the stairs, patting an angry Pablo on his shoulder, a smirk spreading across his face. Laylah leaned forward, needing him to fulfill this new-found interest. There was something about him she couldn't figure out. Something like the magic in the wind there seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye. As the stranger followed Pablo through the doors, he spun his head as he closed the doors shut after him. His gaze landed on Laylah, his eyes squeezing. Laylah pulled her body together under his gaze. It was strong even from the distance and for a moment she had never wished to be more invisible. It didn't take him long to tear away from her and shut the door behind him as he joined everyone else in the church. He laid the street silent behind him and Laylah folded herself out again, stretching her legs. The sun rested behind the tower, covering the whole square in a shadow. The last bell rang out, starting the ceremony. She focused on all the things around her. Nonetheless, Her mind couldn't wander far from the devilish handsome boy. She had never felt anything towards one of those stereotypes, but he was different. She was one hundred percent sure off it. The way he had looked at her may have felt weird, but it was real; without judgment. Her lips swayed back in a tight line. Her mind was working faster than she could master again and the headache hit hard. Her hand swayed up to pull down the hood. Air swayed to the top her head fast and the feeling of her hair hanging down her back was freeing. She took in a deep breath, fixing her eyes upon the sky. Time went in its endless circle as the sun glided out from its spot behind the tower. It exposed the town square in a flash of light. The bells rang out once more and the two double doors were open wide, a broad man standing by each of them. People, dressed in pure white and in every age, streamed out, walking no more than an inch apart. They were chatting amongst each other, their loud voices even reaching Laylah's ears. She kept herself hidden on the bench, watching them in silence. They returned to their jobs, homes or their daily chores. It was the same every time. Nothing ever changed. The last person stumbled out, patting Pablo's shoulder as a goodbye before disappearing through the narrow streets of the west side. After Pablo's friend, did a sudden young man step out. He was unmistakable calm as he took long strides down the steps.  He was your typically Evertonian. Tan with pitch-black hair hanging in his eyes. They were brown and dull, striding around like wild animals as they took in everything around him. Though he was a stereotype, Laylah found him quite handsome with the intense stare he always had. People had no spark or any form of emotion. He did. He had all sorts. His eyes reached Laylah and for a moment they halted. He took in her little form in and her black attire there only made sure her hair was more than noticeable. Maybe it was a mistake to wear black. Black was the color of unbelievers, street wanders, and outsiders. You wouldn't want to be any of those. As if he gave her a cue, she stood and walked over the square. She pulled the hood tight over her face to cover the rest of her unnormal appearance. His eyes still bore into her. She did everything to keep her eyes on the ground and she walked right into a hard surface. She opened her eyes in shock, the wind around her blowing wilder and tilting the hood off of her head. Everything slowed down until the very movement her back hit the rocks with a crack. She gasped in pain, her legs pulling up under her for support. Her head was spinning from the impact. One hand held up her weight from the ground, the other rubbed her throbbing forehead. This was just great. "Watch where you're going." It was a deep voice, definitely a man's. That only made her focus on looking away and creep over the hard and dirty rocks to getaway.  "Here." A hand, big and rough, came into her sight. She stared at it, wondering how this joke would end. Her body shook with fear, almost unnoticeable. The guy stepped forward, his hand coming closer. "Let me help you up." She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking the situation over. Her hand stretched out and touched his. The sun shone down on them exactly as he pulled her to her feet. The same sparks as before ignited around their hands as beautiful butterflies. Her eyes widened even greater. The sparks didn't disappear but kept swarming around their intertwined hands in a beautiful melody which the light breeze brought. She glanced up, meeting his eyes. His gaze made something in her stomach flip and for her to pull her hand. He kept it locked in his, gazing at it before letting go and tearing his hand into his chest. "What the f**k!" he yelled catching her eyes before stumbling back. He saw it too was all she could think before she flashed off in the other direction. Her heart raised, banging on her ribcage. Never had she felt it so strong. The butterflies and flying feelings her mother had passed down. It was as if faith had finally brought something important together. Like two puzzle's there matched. Her legs kept carrying her at full speed towards the alleyway. Behind a trash can hid a torn blanket and another black shirt. It shaped for a perfect house for an orphan and street wander like herself. She let herself slip into the dirt. The hood glid down and fell in bundles around her neck.  She let her fingers raise in the air. Her veins lit with a fierce white, and sparks flew from the tips. Her eyes widened as her muscles trembled. Something was wrong.