Pretty Faces and Dark Places (4 page)

BOOK: Pretty Faces and Dark Places
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The cottage on the inside was nothing like the outside; it was occupied with very nice furniture, though it was small. There was a king sized bed, with a set of two arm chairs, a love seat, and a couch in front of it. There were paintings on the walls, but I couldn’t understand what they were. They had something like rain and wind, something dark and shadowy … it wasn’t easy to even look at without getting chills.

One painting, though, caught my eyes more than the rest and I had to look at it longer. The background of the painting was shades of dark red, red and orange. Like fire. Or maybe lava. I saw something that I liked to think were black eagles or maybe they were bats or black birds of some sort. I couldn’t tell for sure because I was only able to recognize the wings, not the body of the bird itself. It seemed that those birds were making their way down to some half-naked girl that was lying on her side, on a floor that seemed to be made of gray and black ashes. My heartbeat sped up just looking at that painting. It was – scary. So dark and frightening. I felt sorry for the girl, and wondered what that painting was referring to or speaking of, but didn’t know if I wanted to know the answer, so I didn’t even dare ask the question. The answer could be as scary as the sight of the painting itself. Or even scarier.

“It’s better in here, isn’t it?” Green-eyed Mystery asked, his hand still holding my own, never leaving it even while I took my time exploring the cottage with my eyes and observing the paintings. I couldn’t help but notice how warm it had become – very, very warm.

“Yes,” I said, not knowing what else I should say. His hand was touching mine, and he was so close. The trails he was leaving on my arm with the fingertips of his other hand were making me light-headed even more than I already was. And it felt as if I’d do anything he would ever ask me to do no matter what it was.

What on earth was happening to me? What the heck was I doing for God’s sake?!

 

 

 

I still heard that little voice telling me how wrong this was and how I shouldn’t be doing it, but I kept it at bay and didn’t do anything to stop what I was going, not even when his lips touched mine, kissing me with so much passion and adoration. My knees did buckle then, and his strong arms surrounded my body, keeping me on my feet and hugging me to his body.

It felt as if I was in another world when his tongue made its way into my mouth and I was able to taste him. His moan matched mine and the feel of his arousal against my stomach made me sure that I wasn’t the only one who was affected so powerfully by this. His hands were roaming all over my sides and naked upper back, while his lips left mine to kiss wherever he could reach of my neck and shoulders. I was a limp noodle in his arms.

His lips were so soft, so warm and so tender. His body was as hard as marble, as hot as a sunny day and as firm as secureness would feel if it were able to be touched. His touch was so gentle and kind; it felt almost like possessiveness and the need to-never-let-go.  

Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t …

I had no idea that we were making our way to the bed until the back of my thighs hit the edge of the mattress. My heartbeats raced against each other and my chest rose up and down with my shallow breaths that tangled even more when he laid me down and his hand found the zipper of my dress over my side.

“Wait,” I said breathlessly. That little, tiny bit of my mind that was still working begged me to tell him so. “I, uh, I don’t even know your name.”

His eyes found mine, full of passion and … it was like there was
fire
in them. Not the kind of fire you mean to describe excitement, desire or ache, no – fire. Like,
real
fire. Flames. Hot with hints of redness where only white should be. And for some reason, I didn’t think twice of it or about it.  His breaths fanned over my skin when he spoke with a smile on his lips, “It’s Andrew, Beautiful Angel.”

Andrew …

I smiled sweetly back at him. “
You
don’t know mine,” I stated in a hushed voice.

“Of course I do.” He leaned in and kissed my neck before he made his way with his lips up to my ear where he whispered, “Beautiful Maya.”

The sound of my name falling from his lips sent shivers down my spine, and I almost lost it, but like the majority of everything that had happened that night, it was very, very strange that he knew my name. It was almost – creepy. I knew he hadn’t hear Sophie calling me by that name, since she only ever called me
May
, but I thought that maybe he’d heard me when I was introducing myself to Matthew? That could be it, but I couldn’t even remember if I’d told him that my name was Maya or May.

Andrew’s mouth on the top of my left breast made me forget everything and I suddenly didn’t care anymore, about anything. The voice of reason inside my head faded with each new kiss he left on newly exposed skin. I didn’t even think twice when he whispered,
‘My soulmate’
again, the same thing he’d said to his sister, or how serious he was about this.

“It’s so different with you,” I whispered. “With other boys I … uh, I always wish for the ground to open up and swallow me whole when they just talk to me.”

His eyes found mine. “Be careful of what you wish for, Beautiful Angel.” Back then, I didn’t question what his words meant. But now …  I do know what he meant by it. Oh, I know it so well.

With the minutes passing, the two of us were nothing but naked bodies pressed into each other – arms pulling, legs tangled, hands touching and fingers pinching sensitive spots. My wings were a bit uncomfortable, but he wanted me to keep them on. I couldn’t find it in me then to think of the whys or whatever, I just … lived in the pleasure he was giving my body and my heart.

Before, whenever I thought about my first time and what it would be like, I only saw roses and a night that would’ve been planned for weeks and weeks prior – maybe even months. Before, I worried about the pain I’d heard the girls in school saying that you would definitely feel. Before, I knew that that night I would worry about protection and birth control. But now, on this night, and with Andrew, nothing seemed important to me. It was like the whole world around us had stopped, with nothing but the feel of him and the need to get even closer. Anything else was a blur or even a nonexistent haze. It was all about him.
Only
about him.

With every whispered
‘Andrew’
and every hushed
‘Beautiful Angel’
we sunk more into each other, drowning in passion and need and want. Hungry eyes and hungry lips made me writhe and squirm underneath him with undeniable lust and the desire for him to do more.

Soon, but not soon enough, he found his way inside of me. Cries of pain and whines of discomfort turned into moans of need and groans that were meant to tell him to never stop. And he didn’t.

His words in my ear, and the feel of his body so warm that it could only belong to someone with a serious fever, all made it so hard for me to hold back, forcing me to just let go, screaming the name of the man who made me see stars.

That was the very last thing I remembered from that night. I have no idea what happened next. It was like, one second I was feeling the bliss of an orgasm and the next, I found myself in the middle of a deserted road. A road that with just a glance, you could easily tell that no one came by often, or maybe at all. The thought scared me to no end. I was all by myself, completely alone somewhere I didn’t know and couldn’t recognize, nor even know what had brought me there.

I tried to get up but couldn’t; I felt exhausted, sore and aching. Every inch of my body hurt, and my head was pounding so hard that I wanted to scream in agony but didn’t dare to speak, as if I knew speaking would hurt.  Instead, I stayed on my side, in the same position I’d found myself in when I first opened my eyes.

The heat of the sun was almost as hot as the feel of his body when it was pressed into mine. And that was my first thought after I found myself all alone in that terrifying place. Him. And the feel of his closeness.

With a great effort and loud groans, I sat up and looked around me, having no idea what had put me in this situation or this shape, confused and worried at the same time as to why Sophie had left me there – knowing very well that she would never do that. Fear consumed me due to the lost hours of my memory, making me scared to death of what had happened in those hours – to her or to me.

I forced myself to get up; I knew I couldn’t just stay there and be all miserable, I had to do something to get out of there. Wherever that
there
was.

All I was able to do was cry in agony as I lifted my arms the slightest just to push myself up on them, barely steadying my frame on all fours before pushing my body up to stand on my feet.

“God! Oh, God!” I screamed my pain into the nothing that surrounded me.

Anyone looking at me would think I was drunk, it was so freaking hard to stay steady on my feet. I kept swaying and tripping, groaning and moaning with every new, heavy step.

I walked for what felt like ages, worry filling me from the inside out – whether I was walking in a direction that would lead me to a secure place, or if I was walking to a hell that was even worse than where I’d already been. I worried the most about whether I would be walking until nightfall, or if I was to face death soon right where I was.

Eventually, possibly hours later, I felt like I was dying and my soul was lost and just returned to me when I heard the undeniable sound of an engine running. A car passed by, and the old woman driving it was nice enough to pull over and let me in. Maybe she felt sorry for how I looked, or maybe she pitied me for the tears on my face that wouldn’t dry. Or maybe she just did what any kind human would do for another human who was lost in the middle of nowhere, as the only option that would lead the other to their survival.

“Oh, dear!” the lady gushed. “Are you okay, Kiddo? Do you want me to get you to the hospital?”

“N-no, please, I j-just need to go to my house and see my granny,” I said in a low voice, my throat drier that a dead leaf in autumn, and my breaths shallower than ever.

Luckily for me – if I could call anything that was happening to me to be something related to luck, that is – the lady didn’t ask anything further than to where she should take me.  And I think that right after I gave her my address with all of the power I could manage, I passed out, because the next thing I remembered was being dropped off at my house. I didn’t even get the chance to turn around and thank her, for she left the same second I closed the car door.

I didn’t blame my grandmother for appearing to be scared out of her skin when her eyes landed on me as I made my way through the door. She had every right to let out a cry that she tried to muffle by her hand over her mouth. After all, I was barefoot, my feet dirty and bleeding; my hair was wild and messy, and might be as dirty as my feet were. My dress alone was something else – ripped, and had long since lost its white color to something near gray.

“Oh, my God!” Nana cried out as she hurried to me, took me in her arms and wept. “Oh, Maya, I was so worried about you, Child. I thought I’d lost you. Thank you, God! Thank you.”

Her words made my chest swell with emotion, guilt consuming me for putting her in this situation and what she’d gone through because I’d thought it was a good idea to leave late at night to have a good time outside of the house and against her will.

Sadly, with the condition I was in, completely exhausted and drained, all I was able to do was cry along with her and utter a small
‘I’m sorry.’
And it was only when my Nana pulled back to look into my eyes, hugging my face with her hands, that I noticed that our house was filled with police officers.

At first, I thought it was too much and Nana had overreacted by calling the police that quickly, only to be proven wrong – she didn’t overreact at all.

It turned out that I hadn’t lost just a few hours out of my memory – the party wasn’t last night. It was a whole day gone, just like that, a whole day lost from my memory, along with the other few hours of this morning before I woke up.

And I wish it had just stopped at that, but it didn’t – Sophie was missing, as well.

 

 

BOOK: Pretty Faces and Dark Places
2.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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