Have Faith

Skye is sick of humans. Polluting the planet, making creatures extinct and breeding like mice. If only they'd all disappear. But unluckily for them, she can easily arrange that.
(This means no offence to Christians and religious persons. These are not my views/opinions.)


3. Chapter 3

Dodos. I liked Dodos.

They had been one of my more outlandish creations, I'll admit. I remember carefully rounding their bodies, laughing at their plump shape. I had decided to give them wings, though they were far too heavy to fly, to see what they did with them. Then their funny beaks, that they would squawk indignantly through. They were so funny. I had laughed when I visited them, reaching down and holding out my hand, watching them waddle closer, curious yet wary. So wonderful.

But then they were killed. Made extinct. Wiped out. I gave them their own island, to let them do as they wish. But humans spread there, laughing as I once had, at their ridiculous bodies. But they weren't content to just laugh. They had to shoot them, eat them, slowly kill off my beautiful creations. I had been in Australia at the time, creating kangaroos. I'd been engrossed in their huge tails, carefully making sure that their legs were easily balanced, clapping my hands in delight at their pouches. I'd become distracted. Then, after setting them free in the wild, I'd felt something at the back of my head. A little pinch, nothing too serious. But something had been wrong. I'd travelled all over the world, checking up on everyone and everything. It was there that I'd found my beautiful creations. Their skeletons lying, cold and unburied, while the last boats sailed away, laughter and the clink of bottles in the distance.

Polar bears. It had been a stroke of genius to give them black skin, but white fur. To keep them warm, but disguised. Their snuffly noses, their large paws. But the fish they hunted were dying out, the very land they lived on slowly melted by the humans. Destroyed. Soon they would be gone too.

Fish. They were so beautiful. I remember struggling, chewing on my pencil, trying to get their scales to reflect the light just right, to make them look beautiful. But humans catch them, scoop them up in nets. They'll skin off their beautiful scales, pull out their fragile bones, then only eat a third of it. What a waste.

Stupid, stupid humans.


They put me in a room. I pretended to fall asleep in the car, so that I could avoid any conversations. An Officer carried me in, placing me gently on the bed, before leaving. I had stayed limp, listening quietly as doors opened and shut, while hushed conversations were held outside.

Should I leave? I easily could. Or should I stay?

I guess I'll decide that later.

I push myself up, looking around. I'm in a small room, barely able to fit the single bed I'm sitting on. There is a tiny chest of drawers next to me, with a mirror hanging on the opposite wall. The walls are painted white, with plain wooden floorboards going across the floor. There's a window in the wall, a small patch of light shone through it, a small square patch on the floor. I don't bother to test the door handle, I could unlock it anyway. I'll just stick around for a while.

I walk over to the mirror, taking careful steps across the floor. I wonder what I look like. I would be white, quite tall and average weight, I knew that much. I would be white to blend in, as I was currently in the UK. I would be tall, because they were tall here. I wouldn't be fat, because I disliked fat people. They would over-eat, even when it's killing them. Even when there are children dying across the globe, out of starvation. Completely selfish.

I look at myself, and my reflection stares back. I'm around 15, I think, it's always so hard to tell. I have a faint tan, though my skin was still pale. My build is skinny, tall and bony. My face is heart shaped, with rounded edges and faintly pink cheeks. I have plump red lips underneath a button nose, which peaks up to the sky. I have freckles this time, which was rare. They're sprinkled lightly across my nose and cheeks, giving me a cute look. Not the look I was going for, but I'll keep them for now.

My eyes stand out from the rest of my face, as they always do. Large, framed with dark lashes, looking defiantly out at me. My irises are always the same, no matter what I looked like, no matter where I am, no matter when it is. From a distance, they appear white, or faintly grey, with only my pupils in the middle. That's an illusion. 

My eyes are rainbow coloured. They start out crimson in the middle, working out to a sunset orange. That melts into a large ring of sunny yellow, which fades into a field of green. That meets a deep blue, merging in the middle as aquamarine. Indigo surrounds that, deep and thoughtful, while that is met by violet, just outlining my irises. That's my favourite colour of them all. Electric and bright, standing out vividly.

They mix together to make white from a distance, as the rainbow does. But when people look closely, they will raise a hand to their mouth, gawp, just stare at them. That's why I keep my distance from people.

My hair is wonderful, I'll admit that. It's a bright purple, clearly dyed, going down to my shoulders. It's slightly wavy, but contrasting with my face, completely ruining the cute look, making me look bold and dangerous. Maybe I'll have it in a pixie crop. I slowly make it shorter, watching the strands rise up, until I look almost like a boy. Good. I lengthen the bit by my eyes, turning it into a fringe, which hides the edge of my face. Perfect. It now spikes up and down in random directions, a vivid violet, with my eyes hiding behind along fringe.

I'm happy with the way I look now. I look like a dancer, light and airy, with my slim build. My eyes are deep and thoughtful, staring intensely with their rainbow of colours. My hair completes the effect, vivid violet, shading my face in its choppy layers, making me look like I have something to hide. A line of piercings goes up one ear, something I hadn't noticed before. I also appear to have a nose piercing. Works with the rebel look, I guess.My features work in harmony. I am beautiful.

A faint knock at the door brings me out of my moment of adoration, as I stare at myself. I get back on the bed, pretending to have just woken up. It's best to pretend to be normal. A man walks in, closing the door behind him as he sits in the bed next to me. He's youngish, early-thirties perhaps. His hair is straw coloured, but already beginning to bald slightly on the crown of his head. He smiles at me, though it's a weary smile. I decide to sit it out, whatever he has to say, before casually leaving once he left. 

"You've caused us a lot of trouble, young lady," he smiles wider, wagging his finger at me like I'm a small child.

"Please don't be patronising," I reply, making it clear that I want no nonsense. His face falls a little.

"Okay, well, um," I appear to have confused him, though I can't imagine why. "As you probably know, you were caught stealing."

"One doughnut," I point out. "I can pay for it now." I summon £1.65, the cost of what I took, into my hand, bringing it out to him.

"I'm sorry, but it's too late for that now. The bakery has decided not to press charges and as you're under-age, the police have agreed to let you off with a caution. However we can't put that on your record because, well, we can't find it."

What kind of a country was this, where people could go to court for stealing one tiny little doughnut? And I had such high hopes for the UK. They'd seemed so nice. Sure, they were a little small, but they'd had big dreams. It started to go downhill in 2000 B.C. They piled up some rocks, for no apparent reason, which everyone thinks is 'such a big thing'. Sexism was a huge problem here too, up until a century ago. Then they spread everywhere else, turning them to slaves and killing half of them. It wasn't much better now either. It's so crowded, people are everywhere, spreading the pollution, just to check their mobile phones.

"What's your name?"

That question throws me a little. What was my name? Sure, I had a few, but he might be a little offended if I told him my name was God. "It's, um, it's-" I rack my brain, trying to think of something. "It's Skye." The words came into my mouth, without even consulting my brain. Skye. It seemed to suit me. Considering I had made the sky, it would suit me well.



"Your last name? Skye?"

"Oh, right. I don't have a last name. " 

"Seriously, quit messing around kid. What's your last name?" Kid? Seriously patronising.

"As I said earlier, though you didn't appear to understand, I don't have a last name. It's just Skye." 

"Just Skye," he clicks his tongue, as he scribbles that down on a notepad. I can sense his frustration from here. "Right, I'll contact the police with that now. Do you have a parent or guardian that can come and collect you?"

"No," I snort.

"Where are they? If it's a sensitive topic, then I'm sorry, but we need to know if you have anyone looking after you."

"I don't have any," I reply shortly. His smile turns a little strained, but he quickly rectifies that. At least I was honest.

"Then I guess you'll have to stay with us a little longer then. I'm Tom, by the way." He holds out his hand, smiling at me again. I decided to call him Smiles. I took his hand, shaking it briefly, before pulling my arm back. He stood up, walking over to the door. While he reached out to open it, I made a small rock appear in front of his foot. He steps forwards, tripping with his arms grabbing out for something to grab, before managing to right himself. I snicker, quickly making the rock disappear. 

"I could have sworn..." he mutters, staring down at the empty space underneath his foot. "Must be imagining it." He continues to the door, walking out, until I call after him.

"Where is this?" I ask him, as he stops and turns back.

"What do you mean?" he replies with another question, still smiling at me.

"Where am I? Where is this?" I gesture to my room, thinking my question pretty obvious.

"Oh, right. You're at Summer House. It's a Children's Home."

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