Unmasked (21 page)

Noelle nodded still paralyzed with a fear of rawness underneath the mask.

But it was a symbol of her old self, and she wanted to be rid of it.

She calmly placed her hand on the mask, which had now a tangibility to it, as if it had grown solid overnight, and hesitated for another moment before clutching it and casting it down with one fluid motion.

Her first impulse was to scoop down and plant it right back on her face, but she simply faced the Author with open arm and he gazed at her full of pride like a painter breath taken by his latest creation.

The Author seemed at a complete loss for words and Noelle faced the mirror at first feeling insecure noticing various flaws, but then she considered looking at herself through the Author’s eyes.

Then as if a shell-shock explosion occurred in her mind, her vision dissolved as she saw a beautiful woman standing before her. She noticed how the corners of her eyes twirled upward in a swift beautiful motion when she smiled.

Oh, she had a beautiful smile.

Like a golden chick after it hatched during the spring time. The egg was polished, but inside it held a more beautiful treasure than ever.

“I wish that I could always see myself this way,” she admitted enviously.

“Creation always looks most beautiful this way,”
the Author replied.
“Unmasked.”
             

“He’ll be back,” Bri whispered softly with a wink as the two strolled down the hallway. “The Author, I mean.”

A few anxious students rushed to training, sending a whirlwind of commotion in the direction of the girls for a few moments, but Noelle let them pass by without a second thought of joining them.

“I imagine the war will be coming soon,” Noelle muttered as Bri grunted something that sounded like an agreement.

Noelle’s life didn’t magically perfect itself; in fact, several disliked her more for joining the “Author’s army,” or so they called it this during the training sessions when mentioning targets.

While she gained no riches of gold nor surplus of friends, she felt abundantly loved.

“It doesn’t get easier from here,” Bri admitted. “Usually, harder, in some aspects. We may be on the narrow, rough road in life, but the journey is so worth it.”

Noelle pulled out her heart, made out of various bits of broken glass, and pressed it against her chest thoughtfully.

“Still haven’t figured the mystery of that heart yet?” Bri mused.

“I know the answer’s right in front of me – but remind me again.”

The two paused as they entered the cafeteria to find another group of followers clustered around throwing bits of sheet music in every which direction.

“We’re storybook characters, right?” Bri began.

“Yes,” Noelle answered, somewhat impatiently.

“So we should have symbolism engrained into our hearts and minds. We can draw parallels with our eyes closed…”

“Well yes, but what are you getting at?”

“Just a minute,” Bri smiled, eyes widening ever more. “So take a good long look at that heart. It’s obviously made from the same material, but it’s created from something broken. Broken to beautiful.”

“Broken to beautiful,” Noelle echoed. 

Bri nodded approvingly, while bobbing with excitement.

“So, this heart is like us. Before we were a something clean and pure, but we shattered it. But the Author picked up the broken pieces and turned us into something loveable and beautiful.”

Noelle racked her brains of a memory she had long ago. She had shattered something once.

But what was it?

“The vase!” cried out Noelle suddenly pulling the heart till it was about an inch from her eye.

It surely had the same color and opaqueness of the vase that she had shattered in the Author’s house. What were his exact words?

“Don’t worry. There is nothing broken in this entire world that I can’t turn beautiful.”

Bri shot Noelle a quizzical look, so Noelle quickly explained that story at the Author’s house about how she had demolished the vase, and how she never pictured the artifact ever having use ever again.

“Well, I meant this all in a metaphorical sense,” Bri said sheepishly while rubbing her neck, “but I guess that that connection works too.”

A boy with curly dark hair began strumming on a guitar, and a chorus of voices, some strong, while others rather lacking, rang out throughout the room. A dapple of harmonies sprinkled in the chorus as well as a few lines in the verses.

“What song is this?” Noelle inquired.

“It’s pretty catchy,” Bri answered. “Don’t worry you’ll learn it fast, it’s very repetitive.”

Noelle listened for the first verse to catch onto the melody.

I gave away my heart

And shattered my soul

So broken and useless

Who would take me back?

But you saw me when

My world blinded my life

You loved me when
I was filled with hate

You carried me when I

Couldn’t walk any more

I am yours

Unbroken and Free

Noelle broke off surprised to find tears in her eyes as the others continued on to the next verse. Bri caught her friend’s eye and ushered her off to the side.

“I’m okay,” Noelle spluttered. “Just never really thought about it that way.”

Bri nodded softly, “Remember, we’re always here for you, Noelle, in thick and thin. And more importantly, if we ever fail you, he won’t.”

“But I keep failing him,” Noelle argued. “I’m never going to be able to make up for everything I’ve done.”

“You don’t have to,” Bri persisted. “Because he already paid that price for you. A free gift that you accepted.”

Noelle gave a half-smile full of relief but uncertainty. It seemed too good to be true. Almost like a happy ending.

“But we can’t be at the ending yet.”

“Nope,” said Bri cheerfully, “there’s a heck of a lot of story writing to be done, and I can just picture him scribbling down the draft right now.”

“So what do we do now?”

Bri shrugged, “Probably something stupid that will wind us up in a lot of trouble. You know, I heard a rumor about some weird dresser and disappearing letters somewhere on this premise. We might be able to check that out.”

Noelle beamed at her, “Now you’re talking.”

The two returned as everyone finished the chorus. And while they reached the end of the song, Noelle was quite certain that a new one would spring up eventually.

The new song would come soon.

And all she had to do was sing along.

Like the production of a movie, it requires more than one person to accomplish such a feat. For example the director could not land the digital magic onto the big screen without several working behind the scenes. Likewise, I wish to thank the following people who helped shape this book into what it has become today:

First and foremost, I want to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, in whom I can do all things through Him and by Him. He is the Author of my life and I know that He has great plans for me.

For my family: Dad, Mom, Grace, Fé, and Daniel, for your support and patience as I stole the family computer away to type this.

For Miss Telepak who helped graciously in the painstaking process of editing. You advice was extremely beneficial, and I am so thankful for your hard work.

For my friends and particularly my first readers: Julie, India, Liisa, Corryn, and Kaleigh.

For the creators of the “Everything skit” I am eternally grateful for your use of symbolism to portray faith in a way like no other.

Last, but definitely not least, my lectors, or readers…without you Noelle still would wonder whether her adventure would ever start. You have been with her through ups and spirals of this roller coaster life, but thankfully you never let go, and I am grateful for that.

Hope Bolinger enjoys writing everything from poems and short stories to scripts and full-length novels. Several of her poems have been published in anthologies. Her first original play was performed when she was in eighth grade. She also is a journalist for N 2 Publishing.

Hope wrote
Unmasked
when she was 16, during the fall of her junior year.

Hope lives in Hudson, Ohio, with her parents, older sister Grace, younger brother Daniel, Brazilian exchange student “sister” Fe, three dogs – Samson, Lilah, and Casey – and Twix the Wondercat, who has his own Facebook page.