“Are these yours?” I asked.
He shook his head no, looking a little
discomfited. “They are meant for a talented, artistic, beautiful
young woman,” he said, staring deep in my eyes.
“So...why are you showing me this?” I
asked.
Drake smiled again, then slowly closed the
gap between us. He raised his hand to my head, and I gasped before
his touch, knowing how amazing it would feel. He hesitated, then
smiled at me and touched the side of my head; a warm rush swept
through me, followed by absolute bliss.
“How I wonder how you managed to do this to
yourself,” he said so quietly that I barely heard him. “Be honest
with me,” he said as he slowly lowered his hand, tucking a lock of
my hair behind my ear. “Do you remember anything before that storm
you were in?”
I looked down, shameful. He then brought his
hand to my chin and gently pulled up my face; his touch was so
perfect. I stared deeply into his smiling eyes.
“That’s what I thought you might say,” he
whispered.
“Are you going to hurt Stella?” I asked. His
eyes questioned me. “I don’t remember...so it’s easy for me to
stand out of line...but it’s not her fault. I’ll take her
punishment,” I pleaded with him.
“And what do you feel that you’ve done to
deserve a punishment?” he whispered, amused by my words.
“Is it not my place to serve you? Not to be
sick and weak?”
“Ahh...you think it’s my place to rule over
you,” he said, smiling. I nodded. “You know, a beautiful woman once
told me that it wasn’t anyone’s place to rule over another.”
That was the second time that he’d referred
to a beautiful young girl; I wondered who she was. I got the
impression that I should already know - which was terrifying. “I
don’t understand,” I whispered.
Drake placed his hands on my face, and I
felt as light as a feather. He then leaned in and said, “I’m
grateful that you don’t.” Leaning closer, he kissed my lips softly,
and his warmth was now coursing through me. I felt my body go limp,
and he reached his arm around me to brace me from falling. I found
myself kissing him back; his body grew less tense, which caused the
rush to intensify. I had to break away just to breathe...I felt
like I was going to faint.
Smiling, Drake slowly let go of me. I stared
up at him, baffled at what had just happened to me. All at once, a
sharp pain came crashing through the center of me. I bent over,
bracing myself. Drake reached out and put his hands on mine, and
the pain left me immediately. I moved my hands, letting only his
rest on me.
“I’d say that you’re overdue for your
medicine,” he said.
He reached down, picked me up, and carried
me to a long couch that lined the wall. He then sat down, holding
me in his lap. “I think I can help you for now,” he whispered,
placing his hand on my stomach again.
I stared into his eyes, bewildered. “How do
you do that?” I whispered.
“It’s just a gift that I have,” he
answered.
“I see now why they say you’re charismatic,”
I whispered, looking down at his hand.
“Is that what they say?” he said, laughing
under his breath. “The truth is, this gift is only meant to make
one person feel this way...the one who’s meant for me,” he said
quietly.
“Is that why you touched all of those girls
earlier? Can you feel it the same way?” I asked.
Drake shyly smiled at me. I couldn’t
comprehend what he saw in me. “I knew it was you from the moment I
first saw you...I only touched them to show you that I meant no
harm,” he said, reaching forward to kiss me again. Tears started to
stream down my face; as good as his touch felt - it also felt
wrong. I felt like I was letting down people who loved me. I wasn’t
even sure I was thinking of Stella; it felt stronger than that.
I pulled away and looked down. “I’m sure you
know that I’m dying...I really do hope that you’ll find another
that can feel you the way that I do,” I said.
He reached up and wiped away my tears, then
searched deep in my eyes. “No one ever really dies...this body is
just a broken vessel; your soul is what’s keeping it alive,” he
said, searching my eyes for understanding.
The word ‘vessel’ brought a flashback
forward: it was of Drake holding me in a room with a white
background. I remembered being angry and scared all at once...I’d
known him before - but how? Not knowing was sending my own emotions
into a whirlwind; I felt like this was all wrong, and I should be
appalled by being here.
As tears fell from my eyes, Drake pulled me
forward, and I laid my head on his chest. I was questioning
everything that was happening to me when I saw a shadow cross the
doorway.
“Alamos,” Drake said. Alamos walked into the
room and slowly approached us. I was embarrassed about being in
Drake’s lap and went to move - only to be held tighter by him.
“Could you bring her medicine to me? The pain has resumed,” Drake
said.
Alamos bowed his head and left the room.
“I don’t like the pills; they taste
horrible. Could you not just stay at my side?” I pleaded.
Drake smiled and ran his hand across the
base of my eye. “I’ll stay at your side for all of eternity. Fate
has brought you to my doorstep, which neither of us can argue
with,” he paused, giving me a chance to take in his words. “These
pills will help me protect you from the pain, from the foolish
dreams, and from voices that would take you from me,” he said, sure
of himself.
He knew about the voice – but how? What
dreams? Why would they take me? Were they bad? The memory of the
young man’s voice pulled at my heart. Drake was trying to keep me
from him...why? Who was he?
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
He leaned in again and kissed me softly,
moving my soul. I kissed him back, and as I did I saw a flash of
heavenly blue eyes cross my memory. A sickening feeling settled in
the base of my stomach, and I pulled away slowly.
“Just trust me,” he whispered.
Alamos returned to the room with a glass of
water and four large pills. They watched as I swallowed them one by
one, regretting it as I felt them slide down my throat. Alamos
reached for my wrist and felt my pulse. He then gave a cautious
look to Drake and left the room without a word. Drake pulled me to
his chest and hummed a quiet lullaby. I closed my eyes, feeling the
hum of his body and the blissful absence of pain. I fell into a
deep, dreamless sleep in his arms, wishing I was strong enough to
fight the power of the pills and dream, wondering if I’d find the
answers to why I was there.
“Evee...wake up,” Stella said in a harsh
whisper. I opened my eyes to see that the darkness had left and a
gray sky made a depressing backdrop in the large window.“Why did
you paint? Are you crazy? I don’t even know how to talk our way out
of this,” she whispered harshly.
Her fear was vibrating me. I sat up slowly,
finding myself back in my room; I couldn’t recall how I’d gotten
here. I looked forward to the other room and saw the painting I’d
made the night before, then everything that had happened – kissing
him, the words that he’d said – soon came back to life in my
memory.
“It’s OK...they know I did it,” I
whispered.
“What? No, they don’t. No one has been in
here,” she argued.
“I saw Drake last night...he was pleased
that I’d painted,” I answered.
“What do you mean?”
“He saw it...he showed me another room with
more canvases,” I said, tracing my memory.
“Since when did you learn to do that?” she
questions.
“Is that new, too?” I asked
“Yes...I’ve never seen anything like it...I
think you painted flowers,” she said, looking across the room at
the painting.
“Those are flowers,” I said.
“How do know what they look like?” she
asked.
Fear came through me; I realized then that I
hadn’t seen flowers anywhere here. A memory of stunning flowers
came to me, blue and green ones, and a little beautiful girl in a
field picking them.
“Stella...do you think I’m demented?” I
whispered.
Her fear intensified. “Of course not. Why
would you ask something so foolish?” she said, looking away from
me.
I felt doubt in her words. I just couldn’t
understand who I was or why Drake was so nice to me.
“It’s just the emotions and truth. I know
I’ve seen food like what we ate last night before, and I know that
I know what flowers look like, and painting, the voices...I keep
getting flashes of people in my head...blue eyes,” I said in a
rushed whisper.
“Blue eyes?” she repeated, more surprised by
that than anything else I’d said. I nodded. “No one has blue eyes;
we all have brown eyes,” she said as her eyes shifted through my
words.
“What was I doing just before the storm?” I
asked
“You’d just left Dr. Parker’s...he told you
that you only had days left. You were crying as you told me, then
the wind knocked us down; a board from one of the signs fell and
hit you in the head. I pulled you into Tim’s shop. You closed your
eyes and fell, hitting your head again. After that, you woke up and
started acting strange,” Stella recounted. I couldn’t remember any
of it and felt so alone.
Stella shifted in front of me. “Listen, I
may not have your senses...but something here feels wrong...we
can’t trust them,” she whispered.
I looked down, and she gently pulled up my
chin. “Evee, trust me: you know he’s not the way to the light we
all crave. He was raised by darkness, and he’ll stay in darkness.
If you had your memory, you never would have even spoken to
him...don’t let your guard down; we’re all we have.”
I nodded and slid back down under the
covers, letting the little girl’s image surface again, followed by
the blue eyes. I then felt people coming close to us, so I squeezed
Stella’s hand and motioned with my eyes toward the door. Her fear
rose even higher.
The same woman and man from yesterday
entered the room. They both froze in front of the painting, and I
could feel their awe and happiness as they looked at it. They
slowly turned and looked in my direction, disbelief covering their
faces. The woman was carrying another tray of food, full of fruit
and cakes. She walked into the room and placed it across my lap.
The man was carrying clothes and soaps. He sat them on the foot of
the bed, and his eyes raced between the two of us as he debated who
was responsible for the painting.
“Stella, you are to come with me to docks to
gather supplies for the estate. You must wash and be ready to
depart in one hour,” the woman said. “The wash room is through that
door. I do hope you are feeling well Evelyn,” she continued. She
then turned, the man followed, and they both stopped again and
gazed at the painting before leaving.
Stella reached for a strawberry, savoring
the taste. I shook my head, realizing that it was very possible
that I was demented and that Drake was a darkness trying to consume
me. A sharp pain tore through my stomach, and I leaned forward and
braced myself. As tears pooled in my eyes, I realized that I didn’t
care if he was bad - I just wanted the pain to go away...I wanted
him.
Stella pushed the tray away and held me as
tight as she could. Seconds passed, and the pain began to dwindle,
then I sat up slowly and took a deep breath. I tried to smile, but
I couldn’t summon the strength.
“I’ll help you bathe before I leave,” Stella
whispered.
“Is it safe for you to leave me?” I
asked.
Stella looked at me and raised her eyebrows.
“You tell me,” she said, mocking my senses.
I rolled my eyes; I knew that the woman
didn’t intend to hurt her.
We gathered the clothes and soap and walked
through the door on the left side of the room. Even I could
recognize the beauty of the bathroom. A large tub centered the room
with mirrors lining the wall, and there was another door that
circled a shower. I walked slowly to the mirror; I’d never seen my
reflection and was fearful of what I might see peering back at
me.
The girl looking back at me was very thin
and pale, and her eyes were as black as night. In the center,
though, I could see what looked like a small sparkle looking out at
me. My hair was long and dark, and I could see the resemblance
between me and Stella; I felt she was so much more beautiful than
I. Suddenly, a flash came across my memory: I remembered looking at
green eyes, emerald green eyes, and olive skin; the girl was young,
sure of herself, happy, and very much alive.
“Does she look familiar?” Stella asked
sympathetically.
I shook my head no and lowered my eyes,
ashamed, wondering who the green eyed girl was and wanting to be as
confident as she seemed to be. I leaned against the counter and
waited for Stella to bathe. I felt her emotions shift from fear to
doubt, then to grief. I knew she was letting my words sink in; she
had to know that whoever she thought I was is gone, and now I had
two choices: to die - leaving her alone - or live - demented, and
protect her. I wanted to stay alive long enough for her to find
someone one, anyone to love her.
Once dressed, she helped me bathe. I could
feel the pain in my stomach intensifying; with a heavy surge of
guilt, I hoped my body would find Drake’s touch soon. I dressed in
a long black dress and made my way to the couch in front of the
window. Stella covered me up with a blanket and kissed my
forehead.
“I should be back by nightfall...remember,
don’t trust anyone,” she whispered.
I nodded and watched her leave, then lay
there, trying to conceive how Drake’s touch was so powerful. I let
each memory I’d found surface and tried to place them. My eyes
closed, and silence took over for a while - then I heard footsteps
approaching. Keeping my eyes closed seemed to be a reasonable thing
to do. I felt someone’s hand on my wrist, and immediately I knew it
wasn’t Drake.