Trainspotting, part one

I’m sorry for the offensive words on the Lilith section, but that’s simply the problems with some young people these days.
L. M. R. – The mysterious initials
A girl, fifteen years of age, strode down the lonely streets of London. Her face had been covered in dust and soot, and it looked dark and mysterious. She had brought some of her collections of timepiece and jewellery with her: six wristwatches, three around the left wrist and three around the right; a pair of earrings, ready to be traded for a pocket watch from the antique shop; five rings around her left fingers and five more in her pockets; seven bracelets, four around the left and three around the right; and three necklaces.
Arriving at the antique shop, she was stunned to see the timepiece collection almost empty.
“Where are the timepiece collections? Have you moved them?” the girl asked.
“They’ve all been sold. Well, except one pocket watch.”
“All right, I’ll take it. But I don’t have any money.”
“I’ll take anything, then. Maybe I’ll take jewellery.”
She took off her earrings, and then gave them to the antiques dealer.
“This’ll do,” he said. Then he gave her the pocket watch, and the girl left.
The girl walked on her way to a small house, which turned out to be hers. In the house, someone had already been waiting. It had been a mysterious woman clad in black. She had brought weapons – a bow and twelve arrows, an axe and a dagger – with her. It seemed she had been seeking something, or maybe someone.
Meet Mirabella…
After a strange vision, she woke up, becoming conscious again.
“Glad you’re awake now. Well, sort of.”
“Who are you?” the girl asked. Her face became worried, afraid that she’d been taken by kidnappers.
“I’m Mirabella. Don’t worry; I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, I rescued you.”
“What do you mean ‘rescue’?”
“You fell unconscious on the sidewalk. So I had to rescue you. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Dolores what?”
“You know, Dolores Reeves.”
“You mean, the one whose father had mysteriously disappeared?”
“Right. How do you know?”
“The topic’s become the talk of the town lately. Some people just don’t read the newspapers, and they just leave them on the doorstep. I took one and looked for interesting news. And then, I saw the story about your missing father. I read it, word by word.”
“I know, right? But the thing is, those news people just find some bad news and good news, and edit them by adding gossips and fibs so the stories look ‘interesting’, and then they publish the stories. Do you think the story about you and your missing father is true?”
“I don’t know. The story seems true, though, ’cause you look like someone who’s been alone for quite a long time. What about your mother?”
“She died when giving birth to me.”
“I guess that’s why your father named you Dolores.”
What’s in a name #1
I don’t seem to know why someone would bestow their children such a bad hope. I mean, why anyone would be named something that means ‘sorrows’? Or maybe it’s just me who tend to look at things from one point of view. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. They say, “What’s in a name?” I have no idea. Maybe I will never understand what a name truly is, and maybe I will never understand why the bloody hell my father thought it’s a good idea to name me Dolores.
…and go to Lilith
“Let’s go to Lilith,” Mirabella exclaimed.
“Who’s Lilith?”
“She’s just a friend of mine. We – she and I, of course – live in a flat. Not a luxurious place, but enough for the two of us. Well, I hope three, now there’s you.”
Arriving there, Mirabella knocked the door. Then, Lilith shouted a nasty reply, “Go away, fucking stranger, or I’ll smack your face!”
Dolores, who appeared to be quite shocked, asked, “Is she always like that?”
“Well, not really,” Mirabella responded to the question, “she’s just, well, I would say, morally wrecked. But she’ll soon be back to normal. I hope. Let me try again.”
Mirabella knocked the door again in her second attempt to enter. Fortunately, this time, there were no filthy words from Lilith (which made Dolores relieved), and she only exclaimed, “Who’s that?”
“It’s me, Mirabella.”
“Mirabella what?”
“Mirabella Kathryn Lynch.”
Not satisfied with name verification, Lilith asked a question only Mirabella knew the answer, like some sort of security question.
“The first thing you saw when walking into Dunn’s back garden?”
“Thistles and roses.”
“All right, get in.”
Lilith finally let the two in, though she didn’t look welcoming.
“I’ve found the girl.”
“Who the fuck is she? I don’t seem to know her,” Lilith asked, again with the F-word, which sounded more like a witch’s shriek to Dolores’ ears.
“You don’t know? She’s the one everyone’s been talking about. You know, the one whose father had mysteriously disappeared.”
“Oh. That girl. Dolores Reeves, right? Just take her to Dunn, and we can have that most exquisite thing in the world while she’s there.”
“No, I’ll be taking her there. I have to be the witness of the chastity vow, which you obviously broke. And don’t mention the F again.”
“Well, then we’ll do it after that.”
“No, I won’t have a TWELVE-YEAR-OLD seeing any sex activity!”
“So be it.”


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