31_days | [Sept 16] [Original] Mutya

Title: Mutya
Day/Theme: September 16: You are due to be transformed.
Series: Original
Characters: Miranda, Noreng
Rating/Warnings: G

Miranda was waiting for dusk. The overturned jar beside her shuddered as the creature inside pushed against it in an attempt to free itself. After a small jump of fear, Miranda plunked another brick on top of the jar. The creature tapped against the glass but the jar no longer jostled against the floor.

“It's only a bug, nene.” Miranda's yaya, Noreng, had told her time and time again while she washed clothes at the back of the house. The sun was often shining through the leaves of the mango tree, making it hard to imagine danger of any kind. “There is nothing to be afraid of. Leave it alone.”

Noreng was lying, as she always did. At night, Miranda could sometimes hear the bug whispering as it scuttled amongst the shadows. Sometimes, she even heard Noreng absently murmuring back to it. Miranda's parents would not believe her when Noreng tried to tell them, when she tried to describe to them the danger of the talking insect. She may have been only ten years old, but she knew that there was something off about these bugs. Still, she could not bring herself to crush them with a rubber slipper or a rolled up newspaper. These bugs had the power to stay her hand.

Creepy in every regard, they had obsidian black shells, and spindly legs that tapped all over the tile floor. Every time Miranda saw one crawling inside the house, Miranda's skin broke out in goosebumps. She resisted the urge to hide in her room, instead putting on a brave face in front of it and calling Noreng over to dispose of it.

Noreng never killed the evil bugs as Miranda insisted upon. Instead, she scooped it up into a cup or newspaper and set it free outside. Miranda didn't see the point of this; the bug would just find its way back into the house again.

“They don't come back. They are not the same bugs, the ones in the house.” Noreng reassured her, pulling her into a comforting hug. Miranda could see the tremor of another lie in Noreng's sharp laugh. She pulled away. Casually, Noreng let her go and added in her wisest tone, “The world is full of bugs. You have to accept that and let them be.”

But Miranda could not. She was filled with restlessness whenever one was around. Their incessant tapping as they wandered the house started to keep her up at night. Only when she had a pillow firmly tucked over her head could she sleep. A radio often kept her company to drown out the sounds, the station set to music filled with drums and shouting.

And then, one day, the bugs multiplied. They crawled around the house, dotting the beige floor, making it difficult for Miranda to get around without inwardly shuddering. She opened her mouth to call for Noreng, but a murmuring silenced her. It was Noreng, in the back of the house, talking to someone. The black bugs spun around the floor of the house, excited, then they dispersed to nooks that Miranda couldn't see. They were there, hiding, biding their time while Noreng murmured, as if encouraging them.

Miranda was good at moving quietly. That was how she went unnoticed whenever Noreng slipped an item in her pocket when no one was looking. Miranda used her stealth now to spy on her yaya, making her way to the back door and listening hard.

Noreng sat outside, her flowery duster loose about her in the warm evening air, her braided black and gray hair curled into a polished knot on her head. She had been with the family for a year now, ever since Miranda's first yaya fell ill. Miranda had cried after her first yaya left, helpless then but not helpless now.

“...don't alarm them...” Noreng's voice drifted through the darkness. “Especially the child.” A pause. “I'm not certain... it is unlikely but you must watch...” The space around Noreng's feet shifted around and the scuttling noise of what seemed like a hundred black bugs roared. Noreng looked up suddenly, straight at the screen door. Miranda had barely ducked down in time. There was silence, then Noreng began murmuring again, this time to herself about chores still to be done and dinner to be made.

Miranda concluded that Noreng could speak to the black bugs. She began to keep watch on Noreng, tracking her every move, her every word. She did not notice the eyes keeping watch on herself.

After a few days, Miranda figured out that Noreng only murmured to the bugs at night, even when there was plenty of times she could have spoken to them in solitude during the day time. It always seemed as if the bugs spoke back, but all Noreng could hear was the tapping of their legs and a vague whispering.

Finally, she decided to try talking to the bugs herself. On Noreng's day off, Miranda armed herself with a jar and hunted for one outside. It was difficult to find one; they all but vanished at her approach where before they would willfully obstruct her path. Miranda stepped around carefully, trying to conceal her movements, but they were all alert to her presence.

She took off her slippers, and tried walking barefoot. The dirt was dry and the difficult to grow grass was sparse. At the edge of the yard, where there were more bushes to hide in, she found a black bug, sitting on a rock, facing her. It did not run away like the others but appeared to be waiting. With a quick swing down, she trapped it in the jar. It lazily circled around, its legs moving here and there with soundless footsteps, then faced her and gave the jar a tap. Miranda wanted to jump, but not while it watched her. Gathering her nerve, Miranda scooped the bug in with a broom and brought it over to the bench at the far end of their yard, where a grove of banana trees separated them from the fields. She set the jar upside down on the ground and sat down on the bamboo bench to wait.

In the distance, the lights of her house went on. Mosquitos began to swarm around her, buzzing irritatingly in her ear. She waved them off, resisting the urge to scratch at the welts appearing on her brown skin.

Dusk came but still the bug tapped on the glass and nothing else.

“Talk, you evil bug.” Miranda said to it, giving the jar a sharp nudge. The bug merely moved to the other side, turning its back to her. Still, she persisted. “What's Noreng telling you to do?” She tapped on the jar again. “Why do you come to my house?”

As the last rays of light left the sky, full dark fell upon them both. Clouds blanketed the sky and the air cooled. Her parents called for her once, twice, then not again. They were used to her disappearing off on her own. Hours passed and still, Miranda waited.

In the twilight, just as Miranda was starting to doze, the bug spoke. It was a language Miranda had never heard before, yet it was as familiar as her father's humming.

“She will kill you.” It said to her. Its voice was but a whisper, barely distinguishable from the leaves rustling in the trees. “But she waits.”

Cautiously, Miranda leaned down until she was face to face with the bug. Her heart beat in her chest, thrummed in her ears. “For what?”

“For you.” The bug raised its legs to the moonless sky. “For this night.”

Miranda's hair began to stand on end. She glanced around her, every sound magnified in her mind. Branches creaked, footsteps crunched. Had Noreng returned?

“Release me.” It tapped on the glass again. “And I will show you. Keep me,” It tapped once more, and the jar wobbled. “And you will not survive.”

For long moments, she and and the bug stared at each other. Thoughts ran through her head: a spy, a traitor, a sign? Round and round it went until all at once, she decided: she took up the bricks while the bug pushed off the jar. Shaking itself, it looked menacing and Miranda feared she had made a mistake. It sprang at her. She nearly screamed but all it did was crawl up her arm with its prickly legs, and sit on her shoulder.

“Step forward. To the right.” It instructed. She did. Step by step, it lead her until she stood in front of one of the banana trees. A blossom hung above her, just out of her reach. It pointed upwards.

“It is time. Put it in your mouth and you may live.” The insect hopped off of her. “My debt for my freedom is repaid.” With that, it vanished into the night, while she stared up at the blossom, wondering how she would ever reach it.

It began to glow, a dark blue light, blue like the bay, dark like the night. A small bead the size of a marble sprang forth from the bud, hovering inches between it and her. It crackled like fire. Miranda reached up, tiptoeing, and plucked it from the air. In her hand, it started to burn. Her eyes opened to the night, and she could See.

A rustling rose up around her, like a roar, like the feet of hundreds of bugs.

Quickly, she put the burning bead in her mouth and felt the changes start within her and without her. She felt light, and strong, and finally ready.

Miranda turned around and braced herself for battle.

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Author's note: Trying to get back into the swing of writing. Apologies for the abrupt end, I ran out of time! This story also fits September 14th's theme, "The Twilight Language".