Annabeth Neverending by Dahm Leyla Kader

Author:Dahm, Leyla Kader [Dahm, Leyla Kader]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-15T18:30:00+00:00

I lie on my bed, my digits moving so fast it feels like I’m typing but without a keyboard. My hands are still yearning to draw out more hieroglyphics, even though by now I must’ve exhausted every combination possible. I’m hoping I work through this side effect soon, because I’ve already written hieroglyphics in every notebook, every book I own.

I stare at my bedroom ceiling. A corner of my wallpaper is curling over on itself. I get up on my vanity and pull at it. It gives way easily, and the paper tears off in several large pieces. Obviously the glue was losing its strength. That’ll be my defense.

I look over my room, formulating, plotting. It’s going to get an ancient Egyptian makeover. It’s due for a revamp anyway. Surely my parents won’t complain when they see all the effort I put into transforming it, which is the new plan. But I know I’m just fooling myself. They’re going to be pissed. And probably worried that I’m going off the deep end. Though I think I’ve already taken the dive.

I grab a magic marker and get to work. I plaster the space with tightly packed hieroglyphics, losing myself while Mew Mew looks on, her pointy face resting on her paws, acting as though this is the most natural thing in the world. I peel off what’s left of the wallpaper to free up more space.

“Bet this seems like no big deal to you. You probably saw artisans around the palace applying hieroglyphics to the walls in ancient Egypt all the time.”

I swear that Mew Mew nods her head in response. Those slanted eyes do seem to harbor wisdom, and at times, cynicism. Though it could be my imagination.

“If only I had a larger canvas,” I think aloud. Then it occurs to me that there is a larger one at my disposal.

I soon have a battered aluminum ladder pushed up against the side of the house, and I’m standing on the faintly unstable top rung. I use a round brush to paint outlines in black with some paint I found in the garage. The walls are now completely blanketed in symbols and two-dimensional figures. And my hands haven’t stopped moving. Maybe if I wait a few minutes, the stinging restlessness will subside.

While I’m scared of how possessed my hands are, it’s impossible to fully fear the consequences because I’m so consumed by the act of painting. I typically enjoy pursuing my love of art, but this time, it seems to be pursuing me.

The sides of the house shake as the garage door opens. In a second there’s going to be hell to pay. I steel myself. Mew Mew, however, knows enough to get lost.

“Annabeth, what have you done?” asks my mother. I can tell she’s trying her damndest to refrain from screaming because her voice is raspy and uneven.

“Yeah! What the hell?” shouts Howie, who goes ahead and shouts his loudest.

“Surprise?” I say with a shrug.

“You’ve ruined the outside of the house!” my father snaps.

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