The Huntress Book 1 Memories (5 page)

“Listen, Dane, I have a rather rushed way of
behaving, I admit. But I cannot apologize for what I am.”

He is silent for a moment, as if he ruminates
my words.”

“You're right.” he says very slowly. “We
cannot apologize for what we are.”

He remains silent again then. It isn’t a
disturbing silence. I laid myself back on the grass, with my hands
under my head. My blouse lifts a little more up, leaving almost my
entire belly naked. His gaze is heading back towards my naked skin.
I can't help it and pull the blouse down as much as I can. He
doesn’t say anything.

“The grass is wet and very cold.” he says,
“It doesn't bother you? You're not cold?”

I laugh. He doesn't have the slightest idea
what truly cold means.

“Cold? During this period of time? No, not at
all.”

I blink. When I open my eyes, he's right next
to me. It's very strange. Not only because I didn’t hear him
moving, but I can't figure out how he could move so fast. I am so
surprised that I don't have time to get scared.

“Hey, how have you managed to move so
fast?”

He does not answer, but he still fixes me. He
stares at me enough that I feel bad. So I say the first thing that
crosses my mind.

“You do know you have an unusual eye color? I
do not think I've ever seen someone with such eyes. A brownish
yellowish orange.”

He still doesn’t speak.

“I think it's a gene thing. Because your
brother has them too. Although I see no resemblance between you
two, he has the same color eyes.”

“Yes, you may be right. It's a gene in my
family.”

“And there are many of you?”

He hesitated. As if he was wondering whether
to reply to me or not. I know very well how it feels not wanting to
talk about yourself.

“You don't have to answer me.” I say

“You met Sky. I've got a sister, Slim, still
a brother, Mark and my parents, Seth and Joyce.”

“Wow, but you have a fairly large
family.”

“I think so.” he admits it.

His fixed and insistent gaze begins to bother
me.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Oh, do I?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Excuse me, I have not figured it out.”

“Okay, but now that I've told you, would you,
please, stop?”

Instead ceasing, he kept looking at me from
head to toe. I don't want to look at him. The glow in his eyes
begins to resemble with those of Director Watson, but he also looks
like a child staring longingly at a cake. I sat Bad idea! This way
he could see the hole on my elbow.

“How come you didn't ask anything about the
bruises and cuts on me?” I blabber again.

“Did you want me to ask?”

“Gosh, no!”

“See?”

I keep quiet. Better than to reel nonsense.
It's quite true that I have not talked to too many people,
especially to young people. However, I do the stupidity to talk
again.

“Sometimes, you seem more mature than your
age. And not just physically, but as attitude as well.”

I was convinced that he would not comment on
anything. Whenever I make a personal remark about him, he shuts
up.

“So do you.” he says.

“Think so? If it were so, I would be able to
control my nerves and don't say the first thing that I can think
about.”

He laughs. I laugh with him. He looked at me
with the same look earlier, which disturbs me. I move a little
backward. I begin to tear some grass with gestures rather
nervously. His hand reaches for mine. I instinctively pull back
mine. Usually, people are disgusted by me. They cross on the other
side of the road not to pass by me. Even with my mother, I touch
only in passing, with no meaning of an emotional display. As
concerning my dad, the only time when we touch is when I go to his
fists.

“What are you doing?”

My voice is slightly hoarse. I do not feel
comfortable. Not at all.

“Excuse me.”

“I do not understand you at all. You're not
like other people?”

“Why do you ask that?” He says, slightly
tense.

“Because usually people back away from me.
While you... you... you look... You look for my company, or even
want to touch me.”

“So what?”

“It's not normal. I'm not accustomed to so
much attention and I dislike it. I profoundly dislike it.”

I look at him straight in his eye after that.
He moves slowly and his hand is placed over mine. It's cold hand.
Like the ice in the winter. After a few seconds I try to withdraw
mine, but he presses his hand more to keep mine.

“You're cold.” I say easy. “Very cold.”

“Do you mind?”

I give him a weak smile.

“Not so much.”

His hand is still on mine.

“Why are you doing this?”

But I can't look into his eyes while asking
him. Because I like and I dislike as well his innocent touch. He
waits until I look back at him.

Because, although you could doubt, people
don’t touch me as well. Not at all, I'd say. Because I know how it
is not to find a place in the world of humans. Because I know how
it feels to be seen as a freak. And, above all, it is because I
think you're very beautiful.”

I tear my hand under his I get up on my feet.
I'm so angry, but also so disappointed by him, that I hardly
refrain myself from tears.

“You… pig!”

His eyes are increased by surprise.

“You're a pig! I don’t have to listen to
these damn lies of yours!”

I know that I'm repeating myself, but I just
can’t my words because of the rage.

“Beautiful?! Beautiful!”

I laugh hysterically, though my voice is
trembling with tears.

“I know exactly how I am, so you can stop
mocking me! I am shabby, too high, too skinny, with my hair
clipped, and my face puffy with bruises. This is me! I'm not...
beautiful! Pig! Pig! You pig!”

I yell at him increasingly louder. I'd like
to hit him exactly as he hit on me, to hurt him as he hurt me. I
walk away from him, starting to run as fast as I can. Tears blind
me. I am used with cruelty, but in a way I hadn't expected to find
it in him.

/’Now I know that if I had not speeded, I had
to see Sky appearing from nowhere near the latter saying 'Great
fool you are!' But back then I did not know how I did not know many
things.’/

Back then I ran without looking back, having
a single thought in my mind. Never to see him again.

It was quite dark when I got to the other
town. It is not the first time when I'm looking in people’s
garbage. And neither the first time I’m doing it elsewhere than in
my city.

The mansion trash that I poke is very
luxurious. But I do not get to pick up the bin lid, when the master
of the house appeared next to me. At least, so I suppose.

“What are you doing here?”

The light coming from within the windows
shows me a pretty dark face, and dark-eyed, with golden, shining
glimpses. What's with everyone that's strange-eyed? And why do I
feel a brute instinct inside this man I’m facing? His allure is
menacing and in my mouth, I feel the taste of ashes. It's the taste
of fear.

"I... I...”

I am frozen by fear.

“What happens, Dom? What is it?”

The female voice I hear is a little calmer,
but it sounds worried. The light is very dim, but I know that she
sees me very well because her eyes are directed precisely towards
me.

“Oh, that it was... Please, Dom, do not...
scare the girl. She's just a kid, can’t you see?”

I totally unwind. My heart is still scared in
my chest.

“Don't feel how scared she is? Who are you,
girl? What's your name?”

I'm surprised again by the fact she realized
so quickly that I'm a girl, all the more since, with my hair cut, I
have nothing of one.

“Dom, come here and let her speak. Don't
worry, child, he will not hurt you, or do any harm to you.”

The man called Dom moves away, but I feel it,
however, that he remains cautious.

“My name is Pat.” I begin to speak slowly and
trembling.

I note that their hearing is also too fine
because neither of the two asked me to repeat myself.

“I... I'm not doing anything wrong. I just
want something to eat.”

“Oh, you poor thing!“ says the woman. “Come
in the house. I will feed you well.”

“Kyrya...” Dom attracts her attention.

“Please, Dom, don't you see that she's a
starving little poor girl? Come, my dear, let us take a good care
of you.”

The man muttered something I did not
understand, but it seems that his wife heard him very well. And
I... I headed in that big and luxury house of this foreign so kind
to me who called me 'hungry girl' with so much compassion.

“Do not worry, sweetheart.” says
Kyrya.”Nobody means harm to you. You eat. According to your stomach
sounds, it's a long time since you have eaten a decent meal. Look
at her, Dom. She looks like a frightened little creature, like a
pursued deer.”

Dom continued to mutter. There is still rough
in his looks, but he does not look like an animal ready to pounce
any longer. Kyrya puts a plate full of goodies on the table. My
entrails are moving noisily this time. So loud that I feel
ashamed.

“Come, and eat!” Kyrya urges me.

I look from the woman to the man. The
enticing smell that comes from the plate makes me feel an almost
painful need. With a small surrendering gasp, I throw myself on the
food. I swallow almost without chewing. The taste is divine. While
I eat ravenously, I study both of them, the woman, and the man.

She is slim, with harmonious forms. Her face
is slightly olive, black eyes with yellow, strange sparks, like her
husband. Her hair is black, long and very straight. As her name
suggests, I can see that they have foreign origins. Dom is an
impressive stature, very solid, about a smaller bear. Apparently,
they do not mind my obvious poverty.

Once I emptied the plate, in record time, to
my shame, Kyrya refilled it without asking me. I gobble it as
ravenously, this time with a little less shame. By the third plate,
I don’t even feel the initial shame. But a great state of satiety.
I do not remember a single moment in my life when I have felt
full.

“I think you're satiated, girl.” Kyrya smiled
at me

I nod a yes.

“Do not be afraid.” she assures me again. “We
do not and will not do anything bad.”

I get up from the chair.

“I... have to go. Thank you for the food, but
I got to go.”

I go to the door, keep looking at her.

“Wait!”

Kyrya moved so quickly that made me recoil in
horror.

“Oh, do not worry. I meant wait to give you
something.”

She returns in record time with the most
beautiful clothes I've ever worn. Jeans, T-shirts with short
sleeves and long-sleeved shirts, a few sweaters, leather jackets,
trendy footwear. Yes, even underwear. I haven't had anything like
this ever in my life. I put my hands behind me, trying to stop them
to lie to those wonders. I have never received alms and I am not
going to start now.

“Please, do not deny them. They have
been...”

Her voice becomes muffled and her eyes glow
with pain.

They have been to... Our daughter. She...
she... she died.”

From the corner of the room, I hear Dom
making a sound as painfully. Their suffering moves in a specific
way. I grab the clothes.

“I... Thank you.”

The words come out of my mouth a little too
harshly. I just scratch my throat when I pronounced them, for I did
not pronounce them too often and it’s difficult for me to do so.
The woman nears me.

“If you could, come to us. At any time. Not
only when you need it.”

In the darkness, I hear Dom’s voice.

“Kyrya...”

She pays no attention to him.

"You come back anytime you want.”

I hear Dom’s sighs of capitulation.

“But never look in the trash again. And never
ever take anything from there.”

The voice sounds like a warning. Not that I'd
be coming back here. On the way home I realize that there are still
people in this world. I don't like Dane, the pig.

It is needless to say that many people have
made big eyes when they saw me wearing my new clothes and so well
shod. I'm sure they thought I stole them. Because I heard them
whispering in corners. And especially since they all know I do not
get handouts from anyone.

It is already December, but we didn’t have
yet a fall of snow. But after the cold and by the smell I know it
won’t last long until the first snow. I think I have developed
several senses, so to speak. For example, I knew exactly when
changing weather, even by the smell of nature.

Faithful to the promise I made, I never
talked with Dane. I saw him in the corridor; sometimes I felt he
watched me, but I've never addressed him any word. From the moment
he told me that I was beautiful, when we first met at school, he
had the boldness to speak to me.

“Hello, Patricia. I think you
misunderstood...”

Anyway, I cannot stand to be called so. I
passed him without letting him speak. Since then, we have not
talked. Not that I had anything to lose, anyway. And if at first, I
went to the river with the fear of facing him, I was soon relieved.
I didn’t meet him there. Every time I felt time a strange presence,
but no matter how sharply I looked surroundings, I could not see
anyone.

I must admit that I was very proud of my
clothes. Especially now that I had enough to change. Director
Watson never called me into his office again, and he looked at me
rather scared. I admit that this thing terribly amuses me.

But otherwise, nothing changed. Even though I
had a few nice clothes I remained all poverty, still a pariah, the
same person non-grata. But at least I wasn’t so ashamed. And I
didn’t feel the cold air as usual.