Leonard
A heavy material, that was blocking out the glassing-wall, was parted and the rays of the light came into the room, brutally forced the boy out of his dream state. Leonard moaned trying to cover his eyes from sun lights. In the night he could not fall asleep. He tossed and turned, changed positions, threw the quilt out but nothing brought him a dream. His thoughts had circulated around the letter, which could change his life. At last, he grabbed the book that spoke of the Race War, hoping if he got bored he would go to sleep. It happened in the early morning. He remembered the rising sun showing through thick curtains. A moment later he collapsed into the land of dreams.
‘Do you have to…?’, he asked his roommate and the best friend since their youngest years as well. He slipped his head under the quilt. The book, he had slept with, slid down on the floor.
‘Normally, I would let you sleep further but not today’, Arthur ripped the quilt off his friend. His eyes accidentally came to rest on the book. “Did you read it again? It is boring as tripe with oil.’
‘That is the reason I decided to read it. I wanted to go to sleep. What time is it?’
‘ You have fifteen minutes to make an order with yourself. Well , it is less now.’
Leonard jumped out of his bed. He thought he had set the alarm and even if he did not he was certain he had asked Miss Lucy to wake him. Why did not she do it?! Oh, Arthur! Undoubtedly, he said to Miss Lucy he would awake Leonard and wanting to spare him stress, he did it over two hours after the fixed time. He wanted good but it came out to worse.
Leonard took a quick shower, pulled on his trousers and cleaned his teeth. With still wet hair he came back to the room. Five minutes! He shoved the book on its place and make an order on a desk. While he was making the bed, he unintentionally pushed a lamp off. It rolled and bounced off the glassing-wall. Precious seconds passed whilst he tried to find its Place. During cleaning the clothes from the previous day, the bells rang at midday. He froze. He felt his empty stomach do a somersault and his heart stood in the throat. In his head appeared pessimistic thoughts. What if will it turn out he does not match? What if he did not have enough Energy within himself? What if did not they take him into consideration and the letter will never come?
Letter… A dozen or so lines of little signs on a paper, a few sentences on a sheet. His greatest dream and the only one hope of future on the scrap of parchment. He was so sure he will get into this school, that he hadn’t applied to any others. What was he thinking of?! He should have protected his future! He knew this, but he still hadn’t done it. He just sat down at the desk and wrote an application for admission. His hand sweated, excited as heart beat faster. He wanted to resign but then Arthur proposed to send letters together. ‘Let’s do it, you will feel safer.’ Leonard knew his friend did not care about getting into this school. He wanted to become a writer and his dream had chances of coming true – he had won a few competitions in school and two of them were nationwide. What kind of a chance had Leonard got? Every year, only fifty of the recruited human students will geta place, one hundred in the entire country. However, not everyone can uncover the Energy in themselves and they are removed. The next year they are waiting to start study somewhere else in the normal high school or technical college.
He did not know how many times he stood still. He did not hear steps on corridor until Arthur shook him and gave him a shirt. Leonard managed to wear it, when knocking started to reverberate around the room, and Miss Lucy entered. She was an American. She had arrived to Poland, where, as she claimed, she had found the most tolerant place on the Earth. At her sight, Leonard sighed with relief mixed with sensation of bitterness, but soon his heart beat harder when he saw a slander being passing through the doors.
‘My God, Leonard’, whispered Miss Lucy, coming up to him. ‘Your hair, your shirt!’
Damn! Not only he forgot to dry his hair but was also wearing the wrong buttoned up shirt. In front of him stood a representative of primeval race and he looked unpresentable. He did not know if he should lower his eyes or look at the Emissary. Any other opportunity to see him could never happen again. It is said that it was an extraordinary lucky to meet this kind of creature.
The Emissary was taller and, on top of that, skinnier than any human. When he was coming into the room he had to bend down so as not to hit the door frame. His moves were laborious as if a rush could damage his joints. His dark hair fell down on black suit. Despite rare appearances, it was the eyes caught the biggest attention. Upon this sight, Leonard stepped backward involuntarily. They were glass.
He had once read that just a few representatives of the Emissaries lived nowadays. Their race was so old and mysterious that no one remembered its name. Their title was gained by the function of messenger, which they fulfilled in present-days. The living individuals did not share their history and waited for quiet and peaceful death, thus for extinction of his species. Many scientists had approached in attempts to spread essential facts concerning Emissaries, but none of the publications exceeded fifty pages and every of them told about the same things.
In Emissary’s hand, clutched with long fingers, appeared an envelope. The handwriting on it was written in careful calligraphy. Leonard’s heart was a step from exploding with excitement. His dream should come true right now. That hand should make its way toward him. The envelope should find itself in his hands, his fingers should touch this delicate surface of the envelope. Just a few seconds remained…
Time stopped. Leonard felt his blood swim out of his face, his muscles resigned. Printed on the envelope he did not see his name. Hand did not go to his side but to his friend. It was Arthur, who got into Academy of Magic Strengths, not he. In this moment the Emissary for the first time looked at Leonard. This was the first time that their stares had crossed. The first time the boy had felt that something had broken within the depths of his mind. Some kind of impulse penetrated his brain, spread throughout it, reached the most distant nook and disappeared as fast as it had showed. It left emptiness, bitterness and… something new, but Leonard felt he had it for a long time.
He sat down on bed. He did not care what happened around him. Miss Lucy with the Emissary went out. Arthur was saying something, but Leonard did not listen to him. Closed letter lay on the desk. Silence. It would be better if he applied to high school, but what was waiting for him now was a fruitless year and nights spent alone in the room number 142 in Children’s Home number 4 in Warsaw.
