Forgotten (11 page)

“
What!” I said, chocking
down my food.

“
Chill-ax Winnie,” she
laughed. “Okay, the birthday was on there. He could’ve gotten your
number when he had your phone, which he probably did, which I will
admit is a little
amazing
,” she said when I was going
to cut her off and say it was alarming.

“
What else?”

“
Okay, don’t be mad,
because I didn’t rat you out, but there were a few question about
your family and, you know, how they died and what I knew about that
happened that night.”

My insides went cold.
“And?”

“
I informed him that he
could read about in the newspaper if he wanted to know,” Bree said.
“I wasn’t going to volunteer the information.”

***

Mrs. Briggs could have twirled around
naked, and I wouldn’t have noticed, since I grabbed a sick note
from the nurse and left for home because of a ‘migraine’ after
lunch. I must have looked like a mess because the nurse couldn’t
write the excusal form fast enough after I stated my request. I
knew I would have a couple hours alone in the house before the
Thompsons returned and planned on indulging on some much needed
alone time. If Ashwick was good for anything, it was hiding away
from the rest of the world.

After walking out of the school
building, I was immediately slammed by the unmistakable urge to rip
off my fingernails so I wouldn’t be tempted to peel the skin off my
body. It would’ve hurt less than what Jace was doing to me.
Staggering to the rail, my throat tightened, and I struggled to
suck in air. My sight blurred. My lungs burned, and I couldn’t
breathe. Out of everything that he could do to me, cutting off my
air left me completely helpless. I couldn’t even scream out for
help.

I took one step at a time down the
twenty-two steps our school had built simply to make the building
look more imposing. I kept my grip on the railing and the other on
Stella until the urge to beat my head against the sidewalk
lessened. Jace leaned against a large object. It looked like a car
from the general location and size. I usually couldn’t see details
in clothing or other characteristics, but his outline was becoming
more precise in my sight. How or why – I had no idea.

I closed my eyes. Judging from the
smoky outline, I assumed he was wearing a form fitting jacket, made
most likely of some sort of leather. His pants hugged his legs in a
way that made me glad my eyes were closed so he couldn’t see me
gawking. I could tell his hair was a few inches long. I tried to
focus to get a better image but the harder I tried, the more
blurred the image became.

From the gigantic shape of his eyes, I
assumed he wore dark sunglasses to hide his own observations about
me until he made a rookie mistake of keeping his intentions
unknown. He glanced down at his arm. Following his gaze, a thin
gray line laced his wrist. He was timing me!

“
This is getting old.” I
said when I reached the curb.

“
You have no idea,” Jace
said without bothering to hide his exasperation. “Are you ever
going to tell me why you look at us with your eyes
closed?”

“
Move,” I demanded, when he
positioned himself in front of me, herding me toward his
car.

“
Skipping school, and you
won’t even let me help you as a partner in crime?” Jace teased,
crossing his arms. “Come on, I’m sure we could find something to
do.”

I raised an eyebrow and then said,
“I’m not interested in finding ways to fend off boredom together,
or being your girlfriend.”

“
I’m not interested in a
girl,” he chuckled and plucked Stella from me only to hold it
behind his head. He draped his arms over the ends. I would have
looked like a medieval criminal locked in a pillory, but Jace
somehow made it appealing. “It’s incredibly inviting when you look
up at and pout like you want me to do something about
it.”

Gritting my teeth, I opened my eyes
and stared defiantly into his blazing white, excruciatingly
attractive silhouette. I never stared at the sun before, but gazing
upon Jace had to be similar. That was the moment I knew I might as
well check into a mental facility. I was considering his white
abyss to be appealing.

“
You have a sick opinion of
beauty,” I said, and wiped the sweat off my mouth with the collar
of my shirt.

“
You’ll always smell like
the ocean to me,” he said, discounting my body odor. The tone in
his voice sounded more professional. “Your tolerance has
significantly improved and you seem more aware of your
surroundings.”

“
Fantastic,” I muttered
sarcastically and thrust my right hand into his stomach. I
envisioned Jace being remotely surprised, perhaps enough to drop my
walking stick. He didn’t even flinch. To top it off, my fist was
met with hard, solid muscle. My knuckles cracked.

“
Ryker wasn’t kidding.
You’ve got a little fight in you,
which I must admit does appeal to me.”

He walked around to the driver side of
his car. Swinging my walking stick off his neck, he opened his car
door and tapped the top of the roof like he was contemplating on
extending an invitation.

“
I’m not catching a ride
with you.”

“
Pity,” he said and slid
into his seat.

“
What about Stella?” I
called out. “That’s like taking a wheelchair from a
cripple!”

“
Stella?”

“
My walking stick,” I said
stiffly, daring him to make fun of the nickname Bree had given my
cane.

“
You don’t need it,” he
said and started the engine. It purred like a kitten. I
almost
wanted to get in.
“I’ll give it back if you admit that you’re attracted to
me.”

“
Fat chance in hell,” I
said and turned away from him and started walking to my house. Jace
drove off in the opposite direction. The tension that presented
whenever he was near never returned as I edged my way forward, but
I knew he wouldn’t just leave me alone. I guessed that he was
measuring my ability to function without aid. I wouldn’t have been
surprised if the creeper wanted to know where I lived.

…
Perhaps he was one of the
two white figures I saw in the living room window last night.
Recalling the general size and shape of the two people watching me
from the living room window, I walked into a street lamp. A
high-pitched crack echoed in the abandoned street. The pole’s
metal, vibrated under my fingertips, complimenting the sound
ringing in my ears when a vision jarred me.

Soft green grass tickled
my legs as the wind stole seeds from the cottonwood tree canopy
above. A small dagger, frosted with ice, glistened in the sunlight.
A young girl, no older than twelve or thirteen, with auburn hair
glowered over me and tapped her fingernail against the blade,
creating a soft crack. She made no attempt to speak as she grabbed
my hand, slicing my palm. The cold blade pierced my skin, chilling
me to the bone as it vibrated against my flesh. Deep crimson flowed
from my cut.

Another beautiful woman
sauntered in a circle around me. Her pure white dress rippled
slightly in the breeze. She was a few years older, perhaps sixteen
or seventeen, but looked like a fallen angel. Her light blond hair
skimmed the top of her waistline as it shimmered in the sunlight
just like the frost on the dagger. Her angelic laugh rang out in
the meadow as she watched me bleed. Her sun-kissed cheeks glowed as
she smiled. It was a political gesture, nothing more. The contempt
leaked from her golden-colored eyes as they flashed dark
black.

“
You seek for humans’
immortality to end.” My voice hung in the air like her laugh.
“Playing with fate has consequences not even my sister can always
foresee.”

“
Do it.” Her beautiful
voice was laced with hate.

The hatred burning in the
fallen angel’s eyes ripped at my soul. Yet, I agreed to her
request. “Then you condemn the Fates.”

Clinging to the street lamp, I willed
my heartbeat to slow. This vision hurt my very soul, like it had
just stolen years from my life. The young woman wanted something
horrible from me, and I agreed to it. One day I would make a pact
with the devil, who looked like an angel– but why? Tears ran down
my cheeks. My chest felt like it was tightening around my heart;
yet, I didn’t understand why it hurt so badly. What events led up
to this?

It wasn’t long before I
collapsed to the sidewalk, sobbing. The cement scraped my hands
when I fell, but I didn’t have enough energy to care. It felt all
too similar to the gash that would eventually be sliced over my
palm from an icy dagger – an icy dagger during the springtime. What
did that mean? What kind of a person was I to become? I
hated
these visions! When
I finally calmed myself enough to stand, I made it the rest of my
way home. It was the longest few blocks of my life. I wanted
nothing more than to forget these images that bombarded my mind but
a persistent question echoed in my mind. In the vision, I’d said
that the Fates were condemned. Was I talking about someone’s
destiny, a person, or a group of people? Even though I wasn’t sure,
I wrapped my arms around me and prayed for their souls.

Using my mind’s map, I focused on not
running into another street light or traffic sign rather than
analyzing the vision that encased my heart with ice. Max barked
cheerfully as I got closer to our yard. Walking up the driveway I
nearly tripped on a long, thin object. Stella. How did Jace know
where I lived? Perhaps I should be asking questions like, why
wouldn’t he know where I lived? Not bothering to unfold it, I
walked up the front steps. I knew how many paces it was anyway. I
nearly tripped over a scared, little girl when I walked up the
stairs to the front door. Her soft crying should have been a dead
giveaway, but my mind was otherwise preoccupied.

“
Elsie, is that
you?”

More tears.

I sighed, but couldn’t convince myself
to walk away and let her be. A runaway would flee till they felt
safe – I knew from personal experience. Since she’d returned to the
Thompsons, I assumed that she used to live too far away to
walk.

“
Scoot over, sweetie,” I
spoke softly not to startle her. “I’ve had a bad day
too.”

She sniffled a few times but moved a
few inches. Plopping down next to her, I listened to her cry for a
bit. Each one of her sobs stung about as much as my new-found
scrapes on my hands. Since I still couldn’t even handle a pity-pat
from my best friend, I assumed Elsie wouldn’t find comfort in it
coming from a perfect stranger like me. I didn’t think she’d want
to talk about what was bothering her either, but the silence was
eating at me.

“
I remember the first night
I stayed here,” I said, recalling how my own string of nightmares
finally ended. I’d be the only participant in the sad little
conversation we were about to have, but what I had, needed to be
said. “I hated John and Martha, and the few other kids staying here
at the time. They tried to win me over with candy when I got here,
but I already played that game and knew how it ended. They wanted
me to trust them, but a Crunch Bar wasn’t going to cut
it.”

Instead of telling her every personal
detail, I hit the highlights about how I cried myself to sleep,
refused to go to school, and ran away at every moment I could, but
would only get lost. Once, a police officer found me five blocks
away from the house. I’d walked for hours but only managed to make
it five measly blocks away. A tear threatened to slip, remembering
how alone I felt those first several years of my life.
Statistically speaking, I should have been adopted quickly, since I
was only a child when I entered the system, but few parents were
prepared to take care of a blind child, especially one associated
to an ongoing murder case.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw
Elsie’s small hand reach for me, but she hesitated. At least she
stopped crying. I continued my story. Martha picked me up at the
police station but didn’t scold me. The trait continued as months
crept by. Soon the police stations became farther away, but Martha
always picked me up. My voice cracked when I told her that the last
time I ran away she got me, brought me home, and made me my
favorite meal – spaghetti and meatballs. She never yelled at me.
Instead of thanking her for everything, I trashed my room and
prepared to leave that night. That was until I walked past her and
John’s bedroom.

A tear slipped down my cheek. I
quickly rubbed it away.

“
John was comforting
Martha,” I said, shutting my eyes because the guilt was still very
much alive in my heart. “Martha was hysterical because she knew I
would leave again. She knew I hated them. She knew how I felt about
living here, how I plotted against them. It made my heart ache,
because I never let myself hear how much she’d already loved
me.”

We sat in silence, listening to the
sounds of the leaves rattle in the wind, while I gained control
over myself again. I didn’t need to say anything more. I wasn’t
here to promise Elsie a happy life. I just wanted her to know, I
knew how it felt never to belong.

I don’t know how long we sat on the
front step as the day drifted by. Soon my guilty memories gave way
to the visions I’d foreseen. Images of the old man holding a bloody
knife stole my concentration. The one of the beautiful young man
ending my life unraveled, the old man growing young, and finally
the latest one where I made a pact with a fallen angel.