joannebest











{July 19, 2013}   What’s In A Name ~ The Muse Series

fightingdjinn
“Let’s not and say we did.”
It’s her, my muse appears unannounced and dressed for war.
“Sorry for the cliché chica but desperate times and all,” her voice has a calming effect on me, I almost smile at the cheeky wink she gives me but I’m in too much pain from the ass kicking Crazy Bitch Lady gave me.
“I knew I smelled djinn on this one,” her voice drips disgust as she looks back and forth between me and my muse. “I should have recognized your stench. And you, call me a bitch again,” her eyes pin me down, keeping me from moving. “these last few hours will seem like a Disney Land vacation.”
I don’t even notice my muse move until she has a handful of Crazy Bitc- uh, Crazy Lady’s hair, yanking her head back exposing her lovely neck and a scary looking knife at her throat.
“This one is off limits,” she leans into Crazy’s face speaking slow and clear. “She is not to be touched, do you hear me?”
“I don’t take orders from the likes of your kind, do you forget your place? Marida do not take orders from anyone.”
My muse holds the knife just close enough to encourage a sliver of blood to begin to ooze out of her neck. It’s blue.
“Whatcha say chica, how ’bout we take the easy way out, we have more important things to do than waste time with a self-important Djinn right now.”
She slides her knife slow across my tormentors neck, then uses a hunk of hair to wipe away that blue blood from her knife.
Marida, or whatever the hell her name is, looks like she’s about to explode with anger as my muse, soon to be known as my BFF, whispers something chant-like. Everything flashes white as every one of my senses cease to be.
maridblu
I come to face down once again on my living room floor. This is getting to be one habit that really needs to go away.
I’m almost afraid to open my eyes to see if I’m alone or not when a familiar voice answers my unasked question.
Also, my ass is being used as a foot-rest, it’s just a matter of finding out who’s walking all over me now.
“Well you really screwed that one up chica.”
Ok, better my muse than that Miranda-thing, but what the hell did I do to bring this weirdness on? All I want to do is write.
She stretches on my sofa like a sleepy cat just waking up from a six hour nap then uses her boots to roll me over face up. I’m too overwhelmed with exhaustion to do anything but stare at my ceiling.
I really need to do some deep cleaning around this place. I spot a few slowly growing cobwebs stretching in the corners of the ceiling, in fact the whole room needed a couple coats of paint. Maybe I should repaint the whole house and-
“Baby girl, you are so out of your league it’s almost cute, but cute isn’t going to come close to getting you out of this mess. Playing with Djinn? Have you lost your marbles?”
She hops off the couch and starts pacing circles around me, staring at something I can’t see. Her boots are serious ass kicking boots and she looks cute when she’s on my side, other than that, I don’t know what the fuck she’s going on about.
“And a Marid of all Djinn! What in the world possessed you to-”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupt her which I know she hates but I have to know. “How the hell did we get here? In my living room without Crazy Miranda and no damage?
I mean I was just-”
“About to be decimated by one of the most powerful Marids in existence? You are supposed to know all this, you do know all this! Now is not the time to hide in useless words, I don’t know how you managed to draw the attention of Her,” she shuddered as spoke, “but you better get your shit together and now, we can only stall her for so long. She will be back, and it won’t be pretty.”
“Miranda can kiss my ass and another-“.
“Oh chica, what am I going to do with you?”
She extends a hand giving me a good long head to toe once over as I struggle to my feet.
I’m battered and bruised with a heaping helping of broken. And I’m possibly losing my mind.
“You look a mess chica,” she mumbles something under her breath, waves her hand in my direction and I’m clean and freshly clothed.
“Not bad,” I say, “can you do something about those hard-to-reach cobwebs while you’re at it?”
My muse is not amused.
“This is not a joke girly, you’re lucky I got you out of there in time.”
“Out of where,” I practically whine. “I’m still here in my living room and there’s no sign of Miranda…” my voice trails off as I see my muse’s face. She looks like she might cry.
“You are clueless about the Djinn aren’t you.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Oh chica you better get ready to step up to the plate and if you can’t make it you damn well better fake it convincingly because I can only help you so much. There are rules, structure, respect,” she gave me a glare and continued, “one thing you better remember is do not, I repeat not, call that crazy Marid bitch ‘Miranda’ or even think it if she’s anywhere near you. And not just because she’ll tear you to shreds with her bare hands.”
“You know, while we’re on the subject of names,” I begin, “how come I don’t know yours?”
Every emotion ever known to man, and a few unknown flickered over her face and she just sighed, saying nothing.
“It’s time chica, things are about to happen, they’re happening as we speak, it’s time for a little bit of knowledge.”
My muse turns to me and smiles.
Her smiles can be blinding at times.
“Come on chica, we have somewhen to be.”
“Some-huh?” I ask perplexed.
She just laughs uncontrollably as we both disappear.
museee
to be continued…

Advertisements


Im loving this story! Nice to see the muse taking YOUR side for a change.
The line about examining the celiing, and then asking the muse if she could do something about it – pure class 🙂



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

et cetera
%d bloggers like this: