Dulcinea and The Death Code
Dulcinea and The Death Code
Child of Illusion
Victoria Ray
Raynotbradbury
Copyright © 2019 Victoria Ray (Victoria Ohlsson)
Cover design by May Phan
Edited by Jon Laiche
ISBN 9789151903651
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.
Disclaimer: These are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is pure coincidental.
Contents
Let the world…
Foreword
From The Author
Acknowledgments
1. Backwards
2. No Guilt
3. Two Old Girls
4. And Then Comes Sweden…
I am a wild thing
5. Bikini-Street
6. Being In Trouble
7. Rabbits of Science
8. Don’t Bloody Patronize Me
Erik
Love?
9. The Perfect Day
10. A Perfect Boy
11. Safety Off
12. New Friends
Loo
13. War Is Our Natural State
14. I Wish I Knew
15. Story from the Past
16. What Is Chili Chock?
17. Therapy
Joel
New girl, New Feelings
18. The Dulcinea Project
19. And Then You Grow Up…
20. In The Poo Of A-Ria
21. “Hell” Is Like This!
22. Forever Grey
Osa
23. To Fight Evil
24. Like A Hot Rancid Breath
Brolle
25. Slipping Away
26. The Army Of “Eleven”
27. New Partner
28. Learn To Crawl
29. It’s Just A Cider
”A Promise”
30. It Could Be Worse
31. Mayhem Of Lies
32. Away
33. Ticking Bomb
34. Aileen Cairstine Reid
Just a thought
Extras: Jess
Victoria Ray
Let the world…
“Let the world kiss you, sister. Let the moment kiss the most raw and tender spot in your heart until you cannot help but surrender, open.” Chameli Ardagh
Foreword
What would it feel like to be the conveyor of unwanted supernatural events? Or to have the destructive destiny follow you closely like a leech, wherever you go? How would you handle being the harbinger of death and darkness - the personification of Nemesis? This is what Dulcinea, the teenage girl and a vessel of death on the Earth, experiences on her journey to the place called A-Ria in this gripping fantasy novel written by Victoria Ray.
Dulcinea Lovinescu, the protagonist of this tale, is burdened with confusion about her true identity. She leaves her hometown, Sumter (South Carolina), along with her family, in search of answers – a journey that takes her across the Atlantic Ocean to faraway Vasteras, Sweden.
On her lone and sometimes arduous road to self-determination, she’s made to confront her fears and strive to always do the best she can to save the world; however, that is not always easy. Especially when a dark mysterious Crack follows you across the continents, and when your own soul passes through the phases of self-doubt and fretfulness… Thankfully, our hero is joined by a few brave and gifted kids, who become her primary allies and prove exceedingly helpful in her odyssey.
In the course of the book, Dulcinea is seen as a slightly cold, conflicted teen, probably because she is carrying more moral responsibility than she should be - a duty she sometimes struggles to take gracefully. This is why it’s no surprise when Dulcinea is confronted with her true nature and the recognition of the danger she poses - both to her friends and to the world at large.
The book is riveting and moving. It gives a window into the mind of an unusual code-girl and we are ready to follow her life through every detail of that gripping tale.
The ending is a demonstration of the true sacrificial friendship. It also highlights the society’s challenges of power, secret technologies and the spiritual crisis. But the most important – this is a book about journey to maturity, hope and freedom.
ENJOY!
By Laolu Ogundele
From The Author
The book you are currently holding in your hand is not your average novel. First of all, it is based on the single vision from my meditation; second - it is written to help you see that things (as well as thoughts and feelings) around us are actually illusory; and third – it will awaken your heart…
I have tried to build this story on 3 principles:
1. Everyone is a hero.
2. Creating a new kind of illusion.
There’s always something happening in the world around us that we can’t pin down with words or thoughts. My version:
What you see is not here - it is both.
The good and the bad coexist and are One.
3. There’s no ‘human’ villain. The reality itself is cruel enough.
Acknowledgments
Many people have helped me make this book possible. First of all, I thank to all my hardcore fans from Raynotbradbury blog for their encouragement, warm words and friendship. Second, to my family who always believed I could do this - write a novel.
I also wish to thank to the digital artists: Valeriya Fadeyeva (IAMFADEI) and Olena Perekhrystiuk (alionaponka), designer May Phan for amazing book cover, my proofreaders and editors – Laolu Ogundele, Robyn Gottsch and Jon Laiche.
A special thanks is to the One Supreme Being, the Absolute Infinite or Pure Imagination, who has allowed me to weave its unseen thoughts and ideas into my simple text…
1. Backwards
‘Do not do shit just to please your parents, or anybody, because one day you’ll wake up thinking, “Where am I?” and you’ll blame them for it. All of them. Choose your own path. Choose your happiness. Fight for it if you must!’
I stopped typing and saved the draft on my Ko-pad. My precious diary app - what would I do without it? Where would I save all my chaotic ideas, my bitter anger and disappointment?
The golden beams of the sun radiated around me like the glow of a thousand heavenly fireflies. I adore watching them blink, their tiny lights after nightfall. The rays played queer tricks with my hands, face and body. The smells of the morning - coffee and freshly buttered toast - silently climbed through the door. It guided me downstairs, where I grabbed a ready-to-eat sandwich with a double cheese. Of course, it was dad again who had made me breakfast. I sat at the table and wolfed it down, whilst checking my phone.
Today was the last day of school and I had received zero messages. Did it surprise me? Not at all. I had never been a very popular girl, but I never felt like the outsider either. I was a quiet, odd child who lived in my own universe, incapable of understanding the world beyond my personal needs, pixels and dreams.
But let me explain the annoyance toward my parents. You are most probably wondering why my diary took a smash of anger at them this morning. Do you ever feel like no matter what you say, or how you say it, your parents never really listen to you? Perhaps they act like they are listening, but in reality, they do not hear anything you say. This is exactly how I feel when I’m talking to my stepmom. Her name is Kaitlin. Everything - from the way she walks, talk
s, cooks, dresses, or kisses my dad - is a one huge “roller coaster show”.
Here’s a typical conversation:
“Dulcinea! I can’t find my… what are you wearing?” Kaitlin would ask in surprise.
“Jeans,” I’d reply nonchalantly.
“All I can see are the dirty odds and ends. Do they allow clothing like that at your school?”
“I’ve never asked. But if you don’t like them, I can always change into a bikini.”
Kaitlin’s blue eyes would then narrow as she’d rest a hand on her hip. “Stop being bossy! You are just like Mary.” She often brought up my mother, who died on the day I was born.
“Is that a bad thing?” I’d ask.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Okay.”
The End.
My family was always a riddle to me. Kaitlin is a sister of my biological mother. I guess my dad was totally crazy, or desperate, or both, when he hooked up with mom’s sister 5 years after the tragedy. My stepmom fell pregnant with Adam, my brother, who is eight years old now. I get along well with him and I consider both him and Kaitlin as family, no matter how messed up it may seem. After hearing all this I’m sure there’s a question spinning around in your head, “who are you?”.
Let me introduce myself, dear reader, before we embark on this journey of the most incredible story you’ve ever heard. It is unthinkable – a “Mission Impossible” story – because there’s no “I am” explanation in it. Beyond belief. Screwy. Doubtful. But astonishing. In one word - absurd, and yet still absolutely sincere and chimerical. Yes, welcome to the most chimerical story of all the time!
The Story of Dulcinea
As you’ve probably already guessed, Dulcinea is me, but everybody calls me “Dull”. Who would ever give a child such a weird name? I can almost see that surprised look on your face. I’ve asked my dad this question thousands of times too. The answer is always the same: “It is a beautiful name and I love Don Quixote.” Thank you, Dad, for destroying my childhood, dreams, and hopes! Association with a crazy tall, old dude and his dreamy non-existent love affair is exactly what makes a teen popular.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to become popular. Well… maybe just a little bit. There’s a microscopic, tiny, wee-sized part of me that wants a bit of popularity in my life. I just want to be acknowledged, at least. Is that too much to ask?
But I don’t know how anyone can ever become ‘popular’ with a name like mine: Dulcinea Lovinescu. Maybe if I saved the planet from the apocalypse or opened a train route to the moon and back, I’d become the one and only extraordinary superhero-girl. But that’s not so realistic, right? I’m more likely to pick up a boring job at the bank. Dull – like my name. There’s no “extra” in my ordinary self. “Extra” got lost on the way to Dulcinea’s body. So, I have to live with all the ordinary that’s stuck to me like glue.
“Your extra is not going to explode, Dulcinea,” I keep telling myself. “No matter how hard or how long you’d try (add determined facial expression of a 14-year-old girl), you’ll never reach the level of the necessary awesomeness. It is mathematically impossible,” says the Extra in me to the Ordinary Self.
What else is there to add to the picture? I’m nerdy, skinny, with big eyes - twenty percent attractive. We all know about the famous eighty-twenty rule. So, the twenty in that rule is me. Imagine if I were the eighty… Ah, my photo-ram would be full of crazy hot boys, roaming over each of my posts with only one thing in mind - the longing to see more of Dulcinea. But because I’m too average, too simple, and far too clumsy, all I’m getting is between five to ten hearts per week.
Oh, and do not forget about my hair! When people see my hair color, they are ready to move faster than the speed of light: from the place where they are standing to any other, as long as it is far-far away from me. It’s gotten to the point where I was once found myself at the police station for “public indecency”.
The problem is, I was born with pink hair, or to be more precise - butter rose pink. My dad explained to me that it is some kind of genetic disorder. He called it Rosa Barbados, and when I was a young child, it was cool. However, the more I grew up, the more questions people asked. And when I tried to Google “Rosa Barbados”, there was no such disorder – it doesn’t exist!
Last month I decided to dye my hair a bright blue color. Kaitlin almost suffered a heart attack as a result! She said to my dad that they can never trust me again and she doesn’t believe I’d be safe enough in a new school, without their constant guidance. My dad tried to protect my choices and said that adolescence is a period of great change for teenagers. Blah. She just laughed – in his face. But wait… Who said that life is ideal?
The ideal part of my life is my friends.
Okay… My one friend.
Her name is Jessica McMillan.
From the moment I arrived from Romania she was my only support; the only one who helped me to go with a bright Hollywood smile through the educational American nightmare called “Dream”. She always had my back, helped with homework and laughed like crazy when my dad told silly jokes about my childhood in the tiny Romanian village, Cioplea.
Jessica had been there for me when I needed her. She was always present. Being present is like damn oatmeal in the morning - it tunes you into all five of your senses. You wake up and your mental chatter is already there, reminding you who is the boss. You don’t know how to turn the chatter off, you don’t know how to explain to your parents all the mess that is circulating in your head.
Eat the oatmeal before it gets cold!
You are moving in a lethargic pace because you don’t have any power. And you don't care. You are hungry! Your brain is sinking in a loud, crazy, and at times unbearable, real life. You feed your parents with the lies before they figure out how severely messed up you are.
Goodbye, oatmeal!
Hello, the real life of a teenager!
Jess was my “oatmeal”. She knew the way to shut off the noise in my head: the noise that reminds you of the things you didn't get done in time, messed up, or have yet to do. Jess gave me the power - the amazing power of being present. We had a very cool morning ritual on the way to class. Somebody had hung an old bird house on a tree not too far from the school building, and each morning we took the longest road to meet our birds. We shared our lunch with them. We always practiced love.
Love is a very different thing when you are a 14-year-old. You are unsure of so many things. You can never know the truth behind a smile or a touch, because everybody is wearing masks. And each mask is ready to stab you in the back. Sounds cliché? Yet, that cliché is called the best years of your life.
Love is confusing. One day your parents tell you that love for teens is only a haze of hormones; another day - it’s a steep learning curve, part of the experience, a fact of life. Whatever you believe in, remember - love is the power!
The story of my life as Dulcinea Lovinescu is a love story as well, but not a steamy, hot fairytale about two runaway teenagers, or a tale of unexpected magical powers and fights with the bad guys. This is a story about love for the world, humanity, and the tiny pieces of space woven into the fabric of our strange universe.
My name is Dulcinea Lovinescu.
But I am not a human.
I’m the Code from the place called A-Ria.
What is A-Ria? Absolutely Everything.
A-ria is The Reality. The Source. The Life.
I would never have guessed what I am if not for the chain of events in August, 2018 - the year when it all began and my life changed its course. My dad, Alexander Whiteland, a professor of chemistry and microbiology, works for the BioFuture Foundation (also known as BFF: the company that supports transhumanism, also working with dark matter, the creation of the world, and even teleportation). He’s originally from the USA, from a town called Sumter, which is found right in the middle of South Carolina. My biological mother and her family are from Romania. I hope that you noticed that my l
ast name is Romanian too. It was my mother’s last wish. That’s why I’m a Lovinescu, but my dad is a Whiteland.
As you see, I live quite a fortunate life with family and friends who care about me. But no matter how fortunate I am, I’m still a small girl, ephemeral thing: almost like an atom in comparison with the Earth, or Universe. I like to think that my life does matter, even though I know that you and I are going to die someday. Soon.
I know it is very upsetting to think about death, but, from the perspective of a vast, indifferent cosmos, does it really matter much? Can any one’s individual existence really matter? Tough question.
I believe - you can make a difference!
It is challenging to accept the world for what it is; to face reality with a smirk; or to make our lives into something valuable and memorable:
To help