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The riverboat trip had been cold and uneventful. Though the damn intercom had played "The Blue Danube" over and over again. Talk about false advertising. Though the song, "The sort of greyish poopy brown Danube" probably wouldn't be a breakaway pop hit.
As they neared Melk, Deirdre looked up and saw the yellow hulk of the monastery, towering over the town and contrasting with the dull grey of the clouds. It was supposed to snow, but it hadn't yet. It was like the monastery mocked the clouds. Dared them to snow on it. Deirdre was slightly disturbed, as this was how it had appeared in her dreams.
Once she had set foot in the town, she didn't want to waste any time. Instead, she raced through the town square and up the precarious steps that lead to the gift shop. Funny, making people go through that first. She sped on through, only slowing down when she finally reached the front gates. They were colossal, and painted that deep yellowy brown that the Hapsburg family that had ruled Austria for generations seemed so fond of. Deirdre slipped inside, smiling at the lack of people scurrying about. This was the perfect day to come here.
She was about to make her way into the cathedral, when someone took her arm lightly. Deirdre spun around, about to yell, when she saw a tall thin man wearing SOME sort of priestly robes and smiling at her in an allknowing fashion. She had no idea what to do, so she asked him what HE was doing.
He responded in a odd sort of amalgamation of a British and a German accent, "I'm a Priest. I live here. You came here for answers?"
Deirdre raised her eyebrows. Weird Catholic people. "I...guess. I don't really know what I came here for." Instead of shrugging him off like she normally would, something compelled her to stick around.
"You did come here for answers. You dreamed of this place, and here you are. You listen to your dreams, which shows promise." Deirdre backed up quickly. How the hell could this guy know she dreamed of coming here?! "It's alright, Sweetheart. Come with me." Deirdre let herself be led to a small cold stone bench, under a bare withering tree. The priest sat down next to her, but said nothing. Looks like he was waiting for her to speak. She sighed.
"Look, this is all very nice and spooky and everything, but what do you know about it? What do you know about me?"
The priest smiled warmly. "I know you think you're a terrible person. I know also, that you are not. But you have more potential in you to be than other people do." Deirdre stared at him, eyes wide. "I know that you have done things you feel terrible about, and are running from."
Deirdre stood. "I didn't DO those things!! Look, I am sure you are nice and all, but-"
She was cut off, by the priest pulling her back into a sitting position, but he didn't do it unkindly. "Until you realise that it was you and only you, you can never hope to control this."
Deirdre raised her eyebrows. "What the hell are you talking about?"
The priest gave her an exasperated look. "We both know that you are not...normal. Until you accept that there are things about you that are different, and things about you that you don't like, they'll keep controlling you. How can you expect to control yourself if you don't believe it's you doing these things?"
Deirdre nodded. "I...you talked about terrible things? Well I didn't mean to do them. It was like I watched the entire thing. I didn't WANT to do it, but I did anyway."
"That's because you felt helpless to stop it. You decided that you were a puppet. Decide instead, that you are the puppetmaster. You can then control the strings. Along with this, you also have to decide what you will do with this...specialness...that you posses. Everyone in the world has to make the choice of what to do with their lives, and how to live. Unfortunatly, your choice matters more. You have the potential to harm many. In the work I do, I see people like you. People who come to us for help, thinking their loved ones are posessed or sick. But that's not it. Most of them are too far gone already." Deirdre sighed and rolled her eyes. That scenario sounded familiar.
"So...you're saying that I'm..." she couldn't even finish. She had no idea HOW. "What are you saying that I am?"
The priest shrugged, "Different" he said as he stood up. "My name is Peter, by the way. Peter Kemp. Feel free to write to me here if you have any other questions. Or even if you just need someone to talk to." He started to walk away.
"Wait...how the hell do you know all of this..?"
Peter turned to her briefly and he gave her a knowing smile. "You're not the only one that dreams, Deirdre." And with that, he walked away, as the first snowflakes started to fall.
Only then, did Deirdre realise she'd never given Peter her name.
As they neared Melk, Deirdre looked up and saw the yellow hulk of the monastery, towering over the town and contrasting with the dull grey of the clouds. It was supposed to snow, but it hadn't yet. It was like the monastery mocked the clouds. Dared them to snow on it. Deirdre was slightly disturbed, as this was how it had appeared in her dreams.
Once she had set foot in the town, she didn't want to waste any time. Instead, she raced through the town square and up the precarious steps that lead to the gift shop. Funny, making people go through that first. She sped on through, only slowing down when she finally reached the front gates. They were colossal, and painted that deep yellowy brown that the Hapsburg family that had ruled Austria for generations seemed so fond of. Deirdre slipped inside, smiling at the lack of people scurrying about. This was the perfect day to come here.
She was about to make her way into the cathedral, when someone took her arm lightly. Deirdre spun around, about to yell, when she saw a tall thin man wearing SOME sort of priestly robes and smiling at her in an allknowing fashion. She had no idea what to do, so she asked him what HE was doing.
He responded in a odd sort of amalgamation of a British and a German accent, "I'm a Priest. I live here. You came here for answers?"
Deirdre raised her eyebrows. Weird Catholic people. "I...guess. I don't really know what I came here for." Instead of shrugging him off like she normally would, something compelled her to stick around.
"You did come here for answers. You dreamed of this place, and here you are. You listen to your dreams, which shows promise." Deirdre backed up quickly. How the hell could this guy know she dreamed of coming here?! "It's alright, Sweetheart. Come with me." Deirdre let herself be led to a small cold stone bench, under a bare withering tree. The priest sat down next to her, but said nothing. Looks like he was waiting for her to speak. She sighed.
"Look, this is all very nice and spooky and everything, but what do you know about it? What do you know about me?"
The priest smiled warmly. "I know you think you're a terrible person. I know also, that you are not. But you have more potential in you to be than other people do." Deirdre stared at him, eyes wide. "I know that you have done things you feel terrible about, and are running from."
Deirdre stood. "I didn't DO those things!! Look, I am sure you are nice and all, but-"
She was cut off, by the priest pulling her back into a sitting position, but he didn't do it unkindly. "Until you realise that it was you and only you, you can never hope to control this."
Deirdre raised her eyebrows. "What the hell are you talking about?"
The priest gave her an exasperated look. "We both know that you are not...normal. Until you accept that there are things about you that are different, and things about you that you don't like, they'll keep controlling you. How can you expect to control yourself if you don't believe it's you doing these things?"
Deirdre nodded. "I...you talked about terrible things? Well I didn't mean to do them. It was like I watched the entire thing. I didn't WANT to do it, but I did anyway."
"That's because you felt helpless to stop it. You decided that you were a puppet. Decide instead, that you are the puppetmaster. You can then control the strings. Along with this, you also have to decide what you will do with this...specialness...that you posses. Everyone in the world has to make the choice of what to do with their lives, and how to live. Unfortunatly, your choice matters more. You have the potential to harm many. In the work I do, I see people like you. People who come to us for help, thinking their loved ones are posessed or sick. But that's not it. Most of them are too far gone already." Deirdre sighed and rolled her eyes. That scenario sounded familiar.
"So...you're saying that I'm..." she couldn't even finish. She had no idea HOW. "What are you saying that I am?"
The priest shrugged, "Different" he said as he stood up. "My name is Peter, by the way. Peter Kemp. Feel free to write to me here if you have any other questions. Or even if you just need someone to talk to." He started to walk away.
"Wait...how the hell do you know all of this..?"
Peter turned to her briefly and he gave her a knowing smile. "You're not the only one that dreams, Deirdre." And with that, he walked away, as the first snowflakes started to fall.
Only then, did Deirdre realise she'd never given Peter her name.
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