Camielle's Lights
By
Y. Correa
A Sci-Fi Short Story
Camielle's Lights
by Y. Correa
Copyright 2014 Y. Correa
Wispy ringlets danced in the sky in a million different colors—some unrecognizable. Soft blue and majestic puffy cotton-balls filled the space behind it. A backdrop of celestial azure with a rainbow of circles aplenty curtaining atop. A single sphere of bright light swayed to and fro above it. A luminescent orb with a life of its own.
Eyes lucidly followed the orb and gazes became hypnotized by the labyrinthine magic of the lights. What was it? Never in written history did anyone ever witness the likes of this, and never would they in years to come. A once in a lifetime event for those lucky enough to see its splendor.
Camielle wasn't paying much mind to the lights like all the others; her mind was fixed on the multitudes' reactions to the unknown. While some were amazed and enamored by the lights, the others watched in fear—the uncharted always caused fear. Such an unusual thing, the human mind, Camielle surmised.
For a girl of such a young age—only having just turned eight—these questions and thoughts would be peculiar. Yet for Camielle, it was nothing short of an everyday thought. She never was much like all the rest. Never quite fit in.
As she watched the splendiferous beams lull in the air, Camielle strolled through the crowd in Central Park, occasionally touching a strangers hand just to see if they would react. No one even so much as noticed her. What, she thought, is so curious about lights in the sky? They're just lights. Furthermore, she pondered on the fact that people should be more concerned about what was causing this marvelous aurora of romping colors. That, in her little mind seemed to be of greater concern.
Was it the end of the world? The Armageddon? Was it some sort of military attack? Was it coming from somewhere else entirely?
What a petty thing, she mused. To be awestricken at some colors in the sky without any real concern as to where they were coming from.
Camielle was a bit of an odd-looking child—extremely pretty, but odd nonetheless. Her hair was two tones of brown; a lighter shade and a darker shade. It was neither curly, nor wavy, but sat somewhere in between the two textures. Stringy actually.
Her skin was a bit paler than most, if you looked close enough, you could see the semblance of greenish tones. Not like the ever-coveted olive green that some Europeans contained, but a pale green, reminiscent of regurgitation. Thankfully, her Caucasian skin masked the subfusc green well.
Her eyes were enormous and brown—matching her hair. Children at school consistently teased her over it. Cow-eyed Cammy, they'd call her. Yet, Camielle being of such a mature mind, ignored them.
She was thin. Thinner than most of the girls in her class. Her arms were long and wiry, as were her legs. Unfortunately for her, the poor girl was ill-proportioned. These were the reasons that she was always the misfit—the outcast.
Once again, these things did not bother her. She was content with being who she was. The world around her was of little to no consequence. The only thing that mattered to her about the group that surrounded her was their psyche. How could a Species so advanced—especially in comparison to all of the other species on earth—be such Neanderthals?
Camielle finally looked up at the transcendent lights in the sky and the orb that commanded them, like a Conductor of an orchestra. She supposed that they were lovely after all. Truly, she'd never seen anything like them. So, content with her analysis of mankind for the day, she too began to bask in the sublime ensemble. For different reasons than most, but enjoyed them despite the contrary.
After admiring the empyrean heavens for some three minutes or so, Camielle moved forward. It was time to find something else to stimulate her cerebrum. A mind like hers was something of a sponge and a glutton. It absorbed everything and craved more. Nothing kept her attention for too long, as everything obtained her engrossment—if that made any sense.
Trotting forward, she searched for her next task. What would it be? The New York Public Library? Books, she loved. The Museum of Natural History? She'd been there too many times to count and had memorized all of its sights—but going again would be doable. Or maybe she'd settle for strolling the streets and people watch. After all, with an event such as this, watching people might be entertaining.
The latter seemed like the best plan of action for the small girl, so trekking through the highly populated and strangely distracted throng, Camielle's focus remained on each person she passed.
One gentleman wore a fedora hat and a trench coat, and underneath his trench coat one could clearly see his nicely pressed high end business suit. A suitcase in one hand, and cell phone not quite on his ear, dangled from the other. The man stared blankly at the heavens, his mouth agape. On the other end of the phone, one could hear the muffled voice of whomever it was that was speaking.
Camielle, tapped his hand. “Sir?”
No answer. “Sir?” she insisted.
“Huh?” He blinked.
“Why are you looking at the sky?” Camielle surmised that there was an obvious answer, and an alternate answer. She's would've preferred his thoughts on the posterior.
The question finally caused the man to react, and fumbling to close his phone, then looking down at Camielle, he replied, “It's pretty obvious, don't you think?”
“No, no,” Camielle shook her head. “Not really.”
“The lights!” he replied, amazed at her response.
“What about them?”
“They're in the sky! That's never happened before! Seriously, little girl?” His question was more astonishment, than concern.
She nodded.
“Look, kid, I don't have time for this! I need to call someone!” Dismissing their conversation altogether, the man marched off in a mad rush.
Ugh, Camielle thought, then proceeded with her venture.
Her adventure was short-lived as everyone that she approached dismissed her entirely. Most of them labeling her as crazy, or “nuttso” as they so eloquently put it.
Mommy always says that regular people cannot understand the mind of a genius, she reminded herself.
At long last, Camielle gave up on her undertaking and opted for a ringside seat to the action. Although, there wasn't much action to be had—just some lights in the sky moving around. Big deal.
Afoot back home to the building in which she lived, she went. Her mother was surely at work, and her father was off on a business trip. So it was just her and her curiosity today.
She imagined her mother watching the news at the office in which she worked. She would surely be as transfixed as all the rest with the happenings. Then she thought of her father who was currently in New England on business—he was probably watching the news too. Definitely, mouth wide open. He was the sort that lost himself in the electronic captivity of the television set. She giggled at her thought.
Not stopping at her floor, but making her way to the roof instead, Camielle thereafter sat on the blue, tattered and weather-worn beach chair that was there waiting for her. From here, she was certain to see the show much better.
Sitting down and laying her head back, she watched and thought—and thought and watched; and, soon after, waned to sleep.