The Repellent

Trix is an orphan. Her father abandoned her when she was just a baby and her mother has lost her mind, completely. Her whole life is a mystery. So why does this boy in the park affect her so much? Is there more to her existence than her mother told her? Is Trix prepared for the truth of her reality?


2. The Boy across the street (Chapter 1)

Chapter 1


It all began when I was a child. Things that captured the attention of other children wasn't even a blip on my radar. I just wasn't interested. I used to think it was because I just liked different things or that I just needed time to grow to like 'it'. In other words I had to adjust myself to fit in... a horrific twist of fate, isn't it? You see, flying kites or nature walks or painting or football just wasn't my style. I hated it because it was never really my thing. That world just didn't intrigue me... Not like 'The Real World' seemed to. I was always so absorbed with the ideas in books and logic that I just didn't seem to have time to dream.

I guess if I had been truthful with myself that I would have realised why I never really thought about anything more than I already knew. Why I didn't really want to. I should have stopped and asked myself, is this strange for a child? A child is supposed to run free with the wind, changing courses in life again and again, making mistakes, never truly stopping to look at anything in particular.

If I had? Maybe I would have known I was different. 

So, whenever anyone ever says to me "That's strange" I shut my mouth and I tell myself to read between the lines. Why? Because you never know what anyone could be implying...



There was something more to the boy in the park. Something that interested me in ways that I couldn't imagine before. But that was just it... I can't imagine things, can I? And I'm not just saying that to creep myself out, or anyone else for that matter, like my mum said I was. I'm saying it because I can scarcely believe it myself. It happened, whether  my mum or I liked it or not. What was it that she used to say to me? 'All seeing is believing'. But is it? How can we possibly know what we see?

Mum would have scolded me if she had heard my thoughts about him. My mind was a constant carousel spinning round and round, no matter what I said or thought my mind would return to him and the mystery that he presented. Mum would have said something like 'you're making it up' or 'you're looking too closely at nothing Trix, don't be stupid'. Just like she used to do, before her accident... But the thing is? This time, the voice in my head is wrong. I'm not being stupid. 

It's not nothing. 

I began noticing the changes everytime I came into work. I start the day with my regular cafe routine; tie back hair, wash hands, put on apron, say hi to Sandra, take place at till and look over at the spot where he usually is. But somehow, everytime, he looks... different. Different as in, 'age wise'. I'm not crazy, I swear! Sometimes he had aged a great deal and other times he had become younger by several years. 'But how do I know that' you ask? 'It could just be other people in the same spot, haven't you thought of that?' and in answer to that, 'Yes I have, I'm not stupid'. I know it's him because of one simple feature and you have to admit that it would be impossible or an unlikely coincidence for different people in the same time scale of a month to have the exact same feature, underneath the same tree at the same time. It's him.  

His eyes draw me in like a fly to a flame, every single damned time. 'But that's impossible' you say. 'How can one person control the way in which they age?' and to that I have a answer that has been haunting my dreams for months.

"A 'Person' can't."



It all began when I happened to look up, by chance, during my work shift. 'An unlikely coincidence' you might say. 

I noticed him because the cafe that I work in overlooks the only tourist spot we have, the old willow tree park. Due to long days, relentless hours and grumpy customers, the only sense of release I ever have is gazing over at the park across the street. The old tree, right in the center, reminds me of my mum. She was wise and she looked out for everyone, just like this tree is supposed symbolise watching over everyone. Anyway, I was just wiping the coffee counter and thinking about the dark hole in my life... and he was just there. One moment he wasn't and the next he was. It was almost as if he just appeared out of thin air.

It was like, 'magic'. Stupid I know, trust me

The boy was staring at the town's tree... at my tree. The town's ultimate pride and joy was towering over him. It was almost as if he was basking in its greatness, absorbing it almost... 

I remember asking myself 'What is he doing?' before he turned around to look at me. When we locked eyes it was almost as if I was in a trance I couldn't break. His eyes twinkled from across the street, whether in amusement or excitement I couldn't tell. A slight movement below his eyes made me think that he was speaking. But to whom did he speak? I have gone over and over that day so much in my head that I have stripped it bare. I have memorized every single detail and I know he wasn't talking to anyone. So, why was he speaking? Unless, it was to me... But that would be impossible. He was across the street from me. Why on earth would he be speaking to me? His gaze was making my eyes water and my head felt fuzzy, almost as if I was being filled with cotton wool. My brain was making me feel compelled to turn around or to look down, but I resisted. His piercing blue eyes spoke to me over and over, commanding me to forget about him but I couldn't. Not now and not ever. 

Time seemed to stand still as he stared at me. Fury and disbelief was rising in the depth of his eyes, true anger was coming to the surface to greet me and there was nothing I could do about it. So I did what I thought would calm him down or at least make him stop.

I spoke to him.

Now don't ask me how he heard me, because in all honesty? I have no idea myself. I acted on instinct not logic.

"No." I said to him through the glass. "I won't". His look of disbelief became more pronounced and the intensity of his eyes dimmed completely. He frowned at me, the crinkles around his eyes becoming more dominant as his emotions grew. Then suddenly, his face went blank and he grinned at me.

"Hello Trix" He mouthed at me. I jumped and I dropped the towel I was holding, breaking me out of my trance in the process. He knew my name... 

And he was gone.


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