Chapter 1 â Three Years Later
âDo what you love. Do what you are. Do what you do.ââMatshona Dhiliwayo
Kiya
âAlright, kids! I am so happy that you all decided to spend your day in the Museum of Fine Arts! Follow me and Iâll take you to the Greek Mythology exhibit!â An enthusiastic female voice boomed over the group of third graders walking behind their teacher. Noticing a couple of stragglers that were âtoo cool for schoolâ mingling at a distant corner, I gathered the kiddos to encourage them to join the group. As the second chaperone on the field trip, I couldnât afford any student to get lost.
It was the last field trip of the year before the official end of the school year. The students were just
just as excited as I was to start our summer vacation; proof of their lack of effort in turning in their final assignments. It was expected, of course. A sharp burst of cool air washed over us from the residential air conditioners, providing relief after boarding off the hot school bus. With my hands in my skirt pockets, I walked behind the students as we were led down a hallway decorated with art pieces and portraits of the museumâs founders.
âMiss Kiya.â I looked down to see one of my students slowing her steps to match mine. âHow long do you think this tour is?â
âWell, Lesley, it should be less than an hour, give or take.â I poked her shoulder with a grin. âDonât tell me youâre tired already!â
âIâm not!â Lesley puffed out her cheeks in defiance. âI was wondering how long it would be until lunch.â
âNot to worry. Weâre going to feed you all on time, I promise. Now, pay attention. You might learn something. This beats sitting in a classroom all day, right?â
âYeah, yeah.â
Our tour guide, Deborah, let us through a populous area filled with families and college students studying art pieces and historical galleries, posing for pictures, and reading information on display plaques. Cultural exhibits of all sorts were hidden beyond the many hallways that we have yet to explore, but I was excited. My heart ached at the prospect of leaving my students for the summer, but a year as their success coach proved to be an enjoyable endeavor.
It solidified my desire to work with children once I apply for graduate school.
A couple of minutes later, Deborah led us into the Greek mythology exhibit, where there were already a couple of families gazing at display cases filled with clothing, jewelry, and statues. A feeling of familiarity captured my heart and embraced it in a warm hug as I spared glances of the many statues marveled by the childrenâs
eyes.
âBack in ancient times, the Grecian people held a firm belief that the gods of Mount Olympus watched over their land. They were responsible for their blessings and sometimes, their curses. As you can see in these display cases, they carved many of the marble statues in the likings of those gods and goddesses, and when you read their information plaque, you can learn more about them. Warriors fought in battle; they made offerings in sacred templesâtheir way of life followed their praises in their deities.
âBut it is all just a story, right?â One student asked. âWe learned in class that this is folklore! That means the
stories arenât true, right?â
Ch. dear Samuel If only you knewâ¦
âThey were true to the Grecians. It was part of their belief system so anything good or bad that happene they tributed to the gods. For example, they believed that Goddess Demeter caused the seasons we know today because her daughter, Goddess Persephone, lived in the Underworld with her mudband for half a year The fall and winter signaled that Persephone was no longer with on and was caused by Demens cadan But, when the returned. Demeter was happy again and that the spring and summer happenedâ
âBut we donât know if that is true, though. It is a myth Just like how ghosts and werewshes donât e Samuel added with his pessimism.
es, they are 1 sew videos on the name friend. Bran, romed with a shoulder nudge. Those neo fell into a loud banter until I had to break it up. It reminded me just how much the humans donât show about tha existence of whe may bride in the shadows, in the woods, and so on.
Iâd be skeptical too if I didnât shit into a white wolf every other day
âAlright, alingisâ Deborah laughed
do want to stick to the schedule, so you kiddos mane ten minute to
indoor
explore the exhibit. Ask your chaperones or me if you have questions. Donât wander
Just like that the kids dispersed in a page of muted comversation spreading to various display a
I
Ms. Dayâs folioved one group of students roles around the gallery
Athena, spollo, and many more mood high and proud over my form. While mones depicted cam got in their unique way. I couldnât help but wonder who testly were
Are all gods depicted as serious beings with no room for humor? Or are they just as home as my students
and me?
I wonder if any of them have avatar. Woulder to
As I was walking, a powerful pull of pleasant energy sited my body. I was seep in my mind that I didnât notice whose display 1 passed by a wide gi rested on my when I stood in from of Seleneâs display. Her statue was shown wearing a crescere on top of her hair while her right hand held a to Her signature well flowed over her head behind her
She looked beauti
Then, an urge to touch her statue came over me It was
shielded behind a glass care, but security belts were
னà¯
caping around the bottom half of her form to prevent anyone from gaming so close. But I wanted at ger dise The world around me faded into white leaving the statue and me alone,
My hand reached up inching closer to my goddess
stle touchâ¦to be closer to her
awed my eyemws, shalling my
Until a hand on my shoulder knocked me back to reality. I blinked and furrowed head from the fantastical illusion I fell under â1602 22 you singer
âI and curing my head to meer Ms. Dat hape Was I alrigh
dat was when I realized how doe
Chapter 1âThree Years Later
I was to the security belts, nearly tripping over the crimson chains. My hands went to my pockets to feel the telltale bump of my selenite, now hot against my thigh when moments before, it was cold as ice.
âAh, yes⦠Iâm alright.â I muttered, nodding. âI just⦠ah⦠do you know where the womenâs washrooms are?â
âThey should be on your right when you leave from the entrance. Are you sure you donât need-
âIâm fine, Ms. Davis. Just lost my head for a bit. Iâll be right back.â With fire licking at my heels, I bolted out of the exhibit and into the bathroom. By the grace of my goddess, it was empty. I walked to the mirror and gripped the sink counter, staring hard at my reflection. I did not know what came over me at that moment, but it couldnât happen again.
Unless I wanted to get kicked out and fined, of course. I donât think Anthony would bail me out this time.
towel.
Sighing, I refreshed myself by splashing my face lightly with water and patting my face dry with a paper When I exited the bathroom, I had full intentions of returning to my kiddos. But, similar to the pull I had toward Goddess Seleneâs statue, I had that same pull to another part of the exhibit, hidden in a hallway beside the Greek Mythos.
I couldnât resist it. It pulled me in its direction like a siren luring their sailor to their watery grave. Once I entered the new exhibit, the sheer amount of gold and bronze decorating every display case blinded my eyes. Glass cases displayed weapons such as spears and ceremonial daggers with statues of pharaohs and head. sculptures of ancient queens sat on their presentation tables.
It was the Egyptian Myths exhibition.
My reverberating footsteps echoed in the silence as I looked around, being the only person in the exhibit. I lacked a connection with Egypt and its history, but it interested me to some degree, thanks to Asim and his help with his brother three years ago.
I hope he and his family are doing well.
As I explored the exhibit, I came across a game board depicting a coiled snake divided into rectangular depressions. Blue, green, and yellow game stones rested upon the spaces, some were rusted from use. Raising an eyebrow, I eyed the description plaque.
âMehen was a board game played in the times of ancient Egypt. Also called the âsnake gameâ, its name came from the snake god who wrapped around Ra to protect him during his nightly journey into the underworld.â I smirked. âI guess not all snakes are bad.â
âIâve had enough of snakes to last me a lifetime,â Artemis grumbled in my mind, waking up from her nap. âYou should get back to your students before Ms. Davis notices your disappearance.â
âBored already, Art? Youâve been sleeping more than usual.â
âBecause I donât have to exert any brainpower while you work. You do enough thinking for the both of 1s.â She laughed. âPlus, there is no reason for me to interfere. So, that translates to long naps.â
Youâre lucky the school year is over. You wonât be sleeping much when we get back home.â
Hence why Iâm taking advantage of nap time, now.â Artemis sighed in content. âGet back to your job, K
Chapter 1 â Three Years Later
iki. It isnât over yet.â
âYes, mother,â I replied with heavy sarcasm. My ears picked up chatter coming from the long corridor leading to the gallery, taking it as my cue to leave. But, as I walked toward the exit, the chatter died into a heavy. foreboding silence.
Then the lights flickered out, bathing me in darkness.
âUm⦠Artemis?â I asked with a trembling voice. Instantly, Artemis was on full alert, her senses heightening
my own.
âFucking hell. Get out, now!â
Her voice powered my legs toward the exit, ready to launch my body into the light of safety. But the doors swung shut, not only cutting off my escape but recoiling my body back inside the exhibit. My eyes shot to the entrance to see its doors slammed shut as well. Hopping on my feet, I grabbed the door handle and pressed the lock, but it wasnât budging.
Iâm trapped here!
âWhat the hell?!â I shouted, pulling and pushing against the door, hoping it would open with effort, but it didnât. Just as things couldnât get any worse, a sickening sound filled the surrounding air, tuning its strings to my fear.
Hissing.
I turned my body slowly to see where the noise was coming from, and I wish I hadnât. The Mehen game board shook and shuttered on its table, knocking the game pieces onto the ground. The hissing grew louder, and the danger thickened. Pressing my back against the door, I watched as the snakeâs impression uncoiled and rise into the air, releasing an earâpiercing roar that forced me to cover my ears.
That was not the snake that helped Ra!
Through the darkness, the snakeâs body darkened to a deeper shade of black that stood in contrast to the obscurity, writhing. Suddenly, the only speck of color shone through and enraptured my eyes into its own. Sharp red eyes. Its mouth widened, revealing incisors sharper than any kitchen knife and deadlier than the fangs of the worst beast on this earth.
The snake roared once more and thrust toward me. I threw my body to the side to avoid the strike, landing on my shoulder with a painful thud. To my misfortune, the demonic entity didnât wait for me to regain my
:enses.
Our battle became a game of bobbing and weaving because that was what I was doing. I didnât want this snake o get me, but I also didnât want to damage priceless Egyptian artifacts! Luckily, or so I thought, the demon lidnât care about the artifacts. Only harming me.
Leave me alone!â I shouted, running toward the entrance. âWhat the hell are you?!â
he snake answered with a roar, unleashing its menacing strike once again. I ducked to the floor, and by the race of fate, the doors swung open. Shrieking, I took off, away from the possessed exhibit. I didnât stop until I an into someone who grabbed me by the shoulders.
Chapter 1
âMiss Kiya! What happened?!â Ms. Davis asked me, her eyes glittering with worry. I wasnât sure to answer her, considering I was drenched in sweat, breathing like a dehydrated dog, and holding my shoulder that I was sure was threatening to form a bruise. âWere you attacked? I noticed you were gone a long time and-â
âIâm fine⦠Iâm fine, Chasity.â I muttered Ms. Davisâ first name. There was nothing I could say that would rationalize what I had experienced back there. Families and groups of friends were frolicking into the exhibit as if nothing happened. No shouts of confusion or concern, just excited chatter on recent discoveries. I released a shaky breath, wiping the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand. âHâHow are the students?â
âWeâre about to head to the cafeteria for lunch.â She answered, removing her hands from my shoulders. âAre you sure youâre okay? You looked like youâve seen a ghost.â
âI probably did,â I said to myself. Sighing, I shook my head and mustered up a smile to the best of my ability. âAs I said, Iâll be fine. We should get back to the kids.â
I didnât wait for a response. Watching the faces of my students light up was the best medicine to my turmoil. Lunch and the rest of the field trip flew by like a distant breeze and before we knew it, weâre heading back to the elementary school. On the school bus, I stared back at the museum building, my mind stuck on what happened in the exhibit.
What wouldâve happened if I didnât escape? What was that snake? This was an experience I couldnât shake off.
And I wasnât sure if I could for a while.
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