Page 3 of His Retribution

I will avenge my light, avenge my love and then, only then, will I give name to the brightest star in my otherwise black as night sky.

Awake to Dream

Oregon. Present Day.

Oh boy.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

Something in my gut is definitely telling me this isn't a very good idea.

Funny thing about that, though? My gut isn't exactly telling me it's a bad idea either.

Ugh.

I chew my thumb nervously as I pace, that unsettled feeling still gnawing at me, my stomach twisting around the boulder that's been sitting in it since I woke up this morning.

Woke upprobably isn't the right phrasing. It was more like I nodded off long enough for my nightmares to come back, then I jolted out of bed covered in sweat, and screaming. I'd have to sleep for more than five minutes at a time in order to consider that waking up.

I check my reflection in the mirror by the lockers one more time, to make sure I was able to hide the dark circles and give myself the appearance of someone who sleeps eight hours a night.

Not so much.

I look like complete shit.

Sure, I tried. I put my hair into a braid over my shoulder, used my favorite scarf as a headband, wove in the dreaded and faux leather wrapped pieces so they were a little less noticeable. I made sure I used my tinted moisturizer and under eye concealer. I added black eyeliner to my water line, some fantastic mascara to my lashes, the shine reducing powder to my entire face, then a touch of highlight to give my eyes a little life. I even went as far as to almost underdress some, toned myearth mother, bohemian hippylook down to a five on a scale of one to ten, and opted for a long tank top over a pair of black capri leggings. Vans instead of sandals. A more form fitting sweater instead of the billowy, flowy, or oversized ones I usually wear. I actually prefer shawls most of the time but it's starting to get chilly in Oregon and they won't quite cut it anymore.

Maybe I shouldn't have worn all the jewelry.

My watch is almost hidden by the multiple bracelets, both wrists covered in twine and beads, bangles and colorful thread. All ten fingers have at least one or two rings, some big and gaudy by most standards, others simple and understated. The various necklaces around my neck could be viewed the same; beads and thick yarn, stones and oils, symbols of nature and peace. My ears have thin gold hoops from cartilage to lobe, feathers and charms riddled along each one, and another thin hoop in the right side of my nose. It's probably over the top but I feel naked without my jewelry and most of it is beneficial in some way; brings calm, comfort, emits a soothing fragrance, or gives my hands something to fiddle with.

Maybe it's silly but I can't help it.

Though I probably should have thought about it a little harder before I came to an interview for a job I so desperately need.

And I have no time to fix a damn thing because the office door swings open and I jump.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, girl." A pretty blonde breezes into the room dressed in a Wild Bill's t-shirt and skinny jeans. "Posey's on her way since Bill can't make it but—holy shit."

I blink at her as she openly gapes at me, her jaw slack, deep brown eyes staring and practically bugging out of her head.

Yeah, probably should have toned down the hippy vibes.

I drop my gaze to my clothes briefly and when I don't find anything wrong with my lessin your faceappearance, I smooth my palms over my thighs and stick out my hand.

"Hi." Clearing my throat, I dig deep for a little confidence. "Gypsy Stone." The blonde continues to stare at me and I can practically feel my neck break out in hives. "Travis said it was ok for me to wait back here..."

Maybe this was a bad idea.

I mean, I need this job, don't get me wrong, but I'm a wanderer, a nomad, and the way I look definitely reflects that. Not everyone takes kindly to it; just assumes I'm flaky and have zero work ethic, figures I'll do a shitty job, or take off in the middle of the night after I rob them blind.

I'm definitely not known for making good first impressions.

Slowly I start to pull my hand back but the blonde shakes her head as if to clear the cobwebs and quickly snatches it.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry!" She shakes hard. "Seriously, I didn't mean to be so rude, I just...I've never seen eyes quite like yours before.”

And there are those damn hives again.