Languish for you (My soulmate) (3 page)

Soon I was taken from the woman's chest and put on a cold surface. Many fingers and things touched my sensitive skin, but it didn't help to kill that fire in my little body, which was spreading in my body to all impossible direction.

“
What's happening to my little baby?” the woman asked in panicked voice.

No one dared to answer or maybe they just didn't hear her voice in this sea of noises.

Suddenly the pain vanished like someone had used a magic wand. But I had to say, that person forgot something. I couldn't open my eyes, mouth or move, and that was a perfect invitation for the darkness to kiss me.

Chapter three

Someone's gentle fingers were running on my cheek like they were trying to run from something or maybe find something. I didn't know and I didn't care. I just let my senses melt in that magnificent feeling, when someone touches you, letting you feel loved and important. I would have never opened my eyes and stayed in this condition if not his soft voice, asking me to open my eyes and meet a new day.

So, I obeyed reluctantly. The first thing I noticed, was his face, which was so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath against my skin. But for my luck or not, he noticed my face's expression and quickly moved away from me. I frowned against my will. He smirked.

“Good morning, little one,” he said, folding his arms. “How are you feeling?”

I was about to open my mouth, when I noticed that I wasn't in the car anymore and that the light was reigning. Someone had brought me into a house and put me on one huge bed which smelled like vanilla.

Also I noticed that someone had change
d
my clothes and maybe even cleaned me, because I was wearing someone's pyjamas now and I was clean. My hair smelled like strawberries.

“Where am I? Who are you? Am I dead?”

“So many questions, little one,” his smile grew in his face with every question which I gave to him.

“And I am waiting to hear the answers to them,” I snapped. That dream about me being dead and...killing a baby...No. I didn't kill that baby. I was
that baby
and... the baby died. Then the blackness...

“Do you remember your name?”

I nodded. “Trinity. My name is Trinity.”

He scowled and shook his head.

“No. Your name is Vanessa.”

“Vanessa?” I repeated that name, but it sounded so wrong. No, that name couldn't belong to me.

“Good girl. Yes, your name is Vanessa. Do you remember your last name?” with this question his eyes became very serious, letting me understand that the answer to this question was importing to him.

“Should I?” I decided to pretend to be a stupid little girl.

“No,” he shook his head, totally pleased with the answer. But at the same time I could see sadness in his face. He was waiting for a different answer. Why?

“Who are you?” I asked him quickly, before he could ask me something else. I was the one here who should give questions, not him.

“I am Christopher, little one. I will be your... tutor. Also, your tutor will be Avery, but right now she is out,” he took a seat on the chair, which was in the room.

“And what do you want from me, Christopher?” I scanned the area. The room seemed nice; yellow walls, some painting, and nice view through the window.

“So, you don't remember anything? Do you have sisters or brothers? How old are you?” he ignored my question. I didn't like that, but I knew that in the end he will still answer to my questions. At least I hoped so.

“I am eighteen,” I said unsure.

“Oh, so you remember how old you are,” he seemed a bit surprise by that. “That's good...I think. What else could you tell me about yourself?” now he seemed eager to find out my secrets. Did he knew I had never dated a guy and he seemed like one, which I would definitely ask to go to the cinema myself?

“I am a girl?” I said and started to laugh. He joined me. His laugh was rich and nice.

“I can see that,” he said and only now I realized that he talked with an accent. British accent, which I adored so much that I even used it in my stories. Also I noticed that he was wearing a suit, like some kind of a lawyer, which only gave him a serious man appearance.

“How old are you?” I asked, trying to guest his age in my mind.

“I am twenty one, little one,” he smiled dryly and stood up. He walked slowly to my bed, observing me.

“You are from
England
?” I asked again before he could create and relish his new questions.

“I see that you remember Geography, too. That's good,” he sat on my bed, but not close enough for me to touch him with me hands. “Do you know who is Napoleon?”

I nodded and rolled my eyes. Who didn't know that person.

“He was an emperor.”

“I see you remember also and some history facts. That's great. We will need less time to adapt you back to life.”

“Life?” I narrowed my eyes into two small splits.

“Yes. You were in a coma for two years. Last night you woke up, Vanessa.” Still, that name sounded strange and was extraneous for me.

“Woke up? Coma? I don't understand,” and that was truth. I really didn't understand anything. I remembered the car accident, the blackness, the graveyard...

“You are confused. That's totally reasonable this moment. You don't understand what is happening. You were in the car accident. Your parents died in it and you survived. Yesterday you miraculously woke up. Do you remember? You open your eyes...” he tried to give me points to some kind of direction in which I should turn my mind. Unfortunately, his
words didn't make sense. Yea, the
car accident. I remembered it, but not my parents in the car. They were in the hospital... crying.

I shook my head and brought my legs closer to my body. My arms themselves found a way to hug them.

“I don't ...” I lowered my eyes down, trying to find something in my mind what could confirm his words. But I only hit a huge and thick wall.

“I know it is difficult for you to remember, but that is the truth. When you were sixteen, you got into the car accident. Richard and Mary died. You survived.

I lifted my face up and opened my mouth widely. Richard and Mary? That weren't my parents' names. I knew it wasn't.

“My mother's name is Nicole, and my father is Jake,” I said unsure at first, but when those names touched my tongue, I was sure that those names were my parents'. They were so familiar to me.

“Oh,” he leaned back, totally surprised by my words. “So you do remember more that your age and name.”

“I have a brother,” I said, lost in my own thoughts in which his words could come. Maybe if they had, I wouldn't have told anything more to him. His tone was telling me that something was wrong. Maybe I shouldn't say things like that? But I really had a brother, David. He was one year older and was my protector from the bad things. “David. He is a student in ...”

“What else do you remember?” he cut me off. Maybe that fact wasn't important to him.

“I like writing and reading.”

“ Yes, you do. What else?” I looked at him, trying to understand from where that eagerness to know more about me had come. Because really, he seemed and sound like a person, who wanted more and more food and water.

“The graveyard,” I heard my tiny voice. I didn't know I should mention the coffin and the grave. My grave. I saw my own grave.

“What did you do there?”

Was he sneering? He was there. He knew what I did there. I had screamed, was in hysteria. After all, I was put in the coffin and buried deep in the ground.

“I am dead?” the truth finally sunk in me. Tears started collecting in my eyes, threatening me to touch my cheeks.

“No, little one. You are not dead. You are alive. And we are intending to keep you this way.”

“We?”
I was confused. How could I be alive if I had died? Was I a vampire? No. Vampires weren't real. They were just imagined beast to scare little children and later to make many girls to read book about them.

“Eat. You need strength, Vanessa,” he pointed to the tray with food on it. I hadn't even noticed that there was a small table not far away from my bed. “A long travel is waiting for us. You need to be as strong as you can.”

“My name is Trinity,” I said, rising my voice to show that I was angry.

He rewarded me with a wide smile and stood up. He didn't say anything more, and I didn't intend to open my mouth, either, although I didn't want to be left here alone. But when I finally collected enough courage to ask him to stay here with me, he was gone.

I felt abandon, although I heard noises behind the door, letting me know that I wasn't the last person in this world.

I sighed and hugged myself even tighter.

It wasn't wise for him to leave me alone if he really wanted to help me. Everyone knew that the most awful thoughts could attack you when you were left alone.

I closed my eyes and tried to understand what was happening around me. I was killed and now I was alive again. A miracle? Even in my own stories I didn't believe in miracles. I was alive...for a reason.

What else? I asked myself in my mind. I let memories about the yellow floating ball in the air fill me. It wasn't a dream. It was reality. And what had that ball told me? Soulmate. It had told me he was waiting for me. What that supposed to mean?

I opened my eyes and lifted my head up. I glanced at the food and my stomach released a nasty noise, like encouraging me to put something inside me. I hesitated, but only for a few minutes. Soon I let a sweet biscuits touch my tongue.

After ten minutes, I was full and the tray was empty. I couldn't believe that I had eaten all that food. In average day I doubted if I could be able to eat at least half of food on that tray. But maybe I had such a good appetite only because I didn't eat... how long was I dead?

My eyes turned unconsciously at the door. I became suddenly curious. Were they talking about me there?

“Why should they?” I asked myself in a whisper.

I left the warm bed and approached the door slowly. My steps were small and unsure, my legs trembled, like I had spent many days reading on my bed, totally ignoring the need to move. Yea, I loved reading and writing so much, that at school I had problems when a coach ordered me to run laps.

Somehow I managed to stand in front of the door. But I would have been on the ground if not the door knob which my hands were gripping tightly in order to keep my body standing. I was so weak that a baby could defeat me. It wasn't strange for me that Christopher carried me in the graveyard ... last night.

I opened the door after some minutes, when I felt strong enough to do something more that just stand. I didn't hurry to open door widely and tell everyone that I was here. I liked to be an eavesdropper. I was similar to my character with this behavior, although I knew that a person's privacy should be respected.

I looked through the small gap. I saw a corridor. It was empty, but not sank in the silence. Two voices were echoing in the corridor. They didn't try to mute themselves. It almost seemed like they wanted me to hear their conversation. So, I decided to accept their invitation.

“I still can't believe your statement. She remembers?” the woman sounded astonished. Why was it so bad for me to remember some facts about myself?

The answer hit me; because I shouldn't know who I was.

“But she does,” I heard Christopher's serious voice. “She also remembers what we have done this night.”

“But how?” the woman asked. I heard some steps.

“And that is the right question, Avery. They have never remembered who they are. That's why it is easy for us to do our job.”

She didn't reply. Silence spread around them and me for some minutes. That quiet was killing me. They should start talking again. I wanted to hear more information. So, how I had already heard, I was a special case. I shouldn't have remembered who I was.

I took some small steps forward. My back was against the wall which was now my support, saving me from kissing the ground, which was amazingly clean and smelled vanilla.

“She will start questioning,” Christopher said in the end. I heard how a sofa released a cry. She or he had put his butt on the soft place.

“You can bet on that. She will try to find out the truth and that isn't ... her situation is bad. Really bad. If she remembers who she is, it won't work. We could just put her back into that coffin and kill that guy.”

“But you know it isn't the solution. He is...that only that she...” Christopher seemed to have a lack of words and that only gave me more reasons to be suspicious. Who were those guys and why should I listen to them?

Yea, I had trust issues, but not because there were many people who had hurt me. That wasn't the reason why I always tried to avoid every living being in this world, who was standing on two feet. It was just because I could give all of myself to a total stranger. I wanted to believe that there weren't any bad people. That everyone had conscience and do only the right things. I just didn't want to be alarmed every day, hour, minute or second. And that scared me the most. What if the person to whom I could give my heart, my trust, will use me and throw me away like some kind of rubbish?