The Ylem (30 page)

Read The Ylem Online

Authors: Tatiana Vila

Tags: #David_James Mobilism.org

One distant dune caught my attention, though.
It was really far off, difficult to discern. But on the top, there
seemed to be a still, shadowy figure. Perhaps it was an illusion. I
focused, trying to make out the figure, when two glowing silvery
eyes uncovered themselves, looking straight into my eyes.

It was him.

Puff. He disappeared again, powdery mist
floating in the same spot. And then, more glittery mists began to
materialize, appearing out of thin air and surrounding me. I found
myself twisting, struggling to catch every one as a fog-like,
stardust circle enclosed me. The only thing visible the full moon
above. But in a matter of seconds, a breeze began to spread the
powdery mist, turning it into a gauzy screen. Fine particles filled
my nostrils and pricked my eyes.

“Tristan?” I called, my eyes squinting. I
felt claustrophobic. “Tristan!”

A sudden jerk pulled me away from the powdery
fog, and I found myself flying through a misty wind, so strong it
might have been an airplane propeller. My hand fell onto Tristan.
He was pulling me, running inside what seemed to be a tunnel-like
whirl, a translucent one with faint turquoise particles. It looked
as if ice had melted onto the sides, and everything outside looked
out of shape, the dunes distorted. Then, five seconds later, I
found myself standing in front of the car. My eyeballs were sharply
dry. I shut them for a moment, trying to recover their moisture,
and turned around to look at the dunes behind me. A foggy glow
spread across them, like an aurora borealis of a glittery magnolia
blush—extremely beautiful. But puzzling.

“It feels great to share this with someone,”
Tristan said next to me.

I spun around, startled. Where had he come
from? “It was you doing all of that?” I said, fighting to keep
steady.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, stepping
closer.

“No, it was…I don’t know what it was.
Mind-blowing, maybe?” I struggled to understand what had just
happened. “But it wasn’t necessary to do that grainy screen, you
know. I think I still have sand inside my nose.” I sneezed.

For some reason, this was funny to him. “It
wasn’t entirely on purpose. The wind came along unexpectedly.”

“You disappeared and left me alone. That was
unexpected.” I sneezed again. Damn gypsum particles.

“I only jumped. But to your eyes it looked as
if I’d disappeared.”

Jumped? Realization hit me. “The powdery
mists…it was you jumping in the sand?”

He nodded.

“And the sand circle … it was you running
around,” I said. “So…what was the last whirl?” I added.

“I’d forgotten how it looked to human eyes,”
he smiled.

“It doesn’t look like that to you?”

“It used to, when my father would run with me
on his back. I was a kid then and had normal sight. But when I took
on my father’s genes at eighteen and was able to run like him, I
gained the Sight that allowed me to see through the tunnel.”

And naturally, the blast hitting his eyes
didn’t bother him as it did to my human eyes. “Why a tunnel,
though?” I wondered, picturing the tunnel-like thing with turquoise
twirls around in my mind.

“It’s the result of our Sylph and Salamander
side. When we run, we open some kind of passageway in the wind,
allowing us to exceed the Salamander’s speed.”

The heavy wind blowing against my face
flashed into my mind. “You run faster than a car,” I said.

“I can go from zero to one hundred miles per
hour in a second.”

Jesus. Talk about G-force.

I looked up at him, into his mysterious eyes,
and noticed for the first time those awe-striking silver rays in
them, and I remembered, “This is how you got so quickly to that
side of the mountain when I fell at Ski Apache, isn’t it?” And
every time he moved at the speed of the wind, his eyes shined like
this.

He nodded.

I smiled. It looked as if a thunderstorm was
crashing in his eyes. It was amazing.

He reached for my cheek and, slowly, brushed
his thumb over my skin. “We should leave,” he suddenly said with a
small smile. “Otherwise your father is going to kill me.”

Return to the outside world and lose
you.
That’s what leaving this place meant.

My throat swelled.

 

 

 

 

22. SWEET
SACRIFICE

 

I leaned my head against the head rest and
waited until my heart’s rhythm returned to normal. Even though part
of me was still on cloud nine after that soul-stirring kiss with
Tristan, I couldn’t ignore the pang of worry within my chest when
the car accelerated. My mind filled with visions of cracked bones
and twisted metal—something that happened every time a car roared
forward.

I placed my hand over Tristan’s and looked at
him. Since we were in the outside world now, part of me expected
him to pull away his hand from mine. But he didn’t. He looked at me
with deep eyes and laced his fingers with mine, holding them gently
against the warm velvet of his skin. We stayed like this the whole
way back, feeling each other’s heart beneath our hands and
breathing the same silence. Only when my house came into view did
he remove his hand from mine.

He opened my door. I couldn’t look at him
while I slipped outside the car. It hurt. I felt as if there was a
sting in the back of my throat.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go the
party?” he asked.

I nodded. A small tear rolled down my cheek.
I couldn’t explain why I felt like my whole world was ending,
exploding and turning to ashes, why this mysterious guy had taken
possession of my heart so fast and why everything seemed so
pitch-black all of a sudden. I couldn’t explain it.

He took my face in his hands and lifted my
head. “Thank you, for everything,” he whispered, gazing into my
soul. “For you,” he said and bent to kiss my forehead. I closed my
eyes, catching the last trace of his lips on my skin.

He released me and took a step back. Before
he would say the awful words, I walked away from him as fast as I
could to the dimly-lit porch. Once there I stopped, and for some
twisted masochistic reason, I turned around. He was already inside
the car, driving away and disappearing into the black night.

Away from me.

 

“Honey,” said a distant blurry voice. “Are
you awake?” The shape of a face appeared over me, hovering in the
air.

I'd been staring at my ceiling for what felt
an eternity, the blinking of my eyes the only thing that connected
me to this world. And I wanted to remain like that, still in my
bed, gazing and gazing until my body got wrinkled. But I didn't
want to worry my dad, so I tilted my head and said in a faint
voice, “Hey.”

“What a relief,” he sighed. “I thought you
were one of those people who sleep with their eyes open.”

“No…I'm just tired.”

His almond-shaped eyes narrowed and I knew
his maddening parent radar had detected something. “You don’t look
well. Are you sure you can stay alone?”

“I'm sure,” I muttered. “I only need a few
hours of sleep.” And I needed to be completely alone.

He smiled. “Getting older is putting some
weight on you.”

I forced the corners of my mouth up, trying
to smile.

“You have the entire day to sleep if you want
to.” He looked at his watch. “I, on the other hand, need to get
going if I want to make it to Albuquerque before noon. It’s already
past seven.”

Already? It sounded as if time was flying for
him. How lucky.

“There’s plenty of ravioli and cake in the
ice box. I also bought that horrible instant macaroni and cheese
you like, and another cereal just in case. And please, if you have
an emergency, remember the phone numbers are next to the microwave,
okay?”

I nodded.

He bent to kiss my head. “Take care. See you
tomorrow night.” He left the room.

A few minutes later, I was all by myself. No
car. No dad. Just me and the house. I rolled to one side and
noticed a thin line of light seeping through the curtains. It was
bright golden-yellow. I thought about that saying “look at the
bright side” of things. Was there anything bright in my life right
now? All I could see was dull gray. I felt like my soul had been
sucked out and I was inside a dead body, like a zombie, lost in the
realm of this existence.

But even as a zombie, I knew that being in a
twenty-four-hour coma didn’t help matters. I was only digging the
knife deeper. I groaned, got up from bed and pushed the curtains
open. The light burst as if the sun had exploded. I opened the
balcony doors and let the smooth breeze freshen up the stale air
inside. Last night’s clothes were still on the floor, like pools of
navy and purple. I bent to grab the jeans and felt a solid object
in one of its pockets.

My throat tightened. I took the crystal out
and went to get a push-pin from a box in my desk. I pressed it
above the balcony doors and hung the prism from it. The effect was
spectacular. Rainbows gleamed across the walls, surrounding me with
enchanting colorful wings that fluttered each time the breeze
stroked the crystal's facets. It was like magic, a harmonious
enchantment. I couldn’t help but smile and sat down on the floor,
unwilling to take my eyes from the prismatic light.

Time passed and the sun’s brightness became
more intense, sharpening the spectral colors. Little by little, I
realized the sense of happiness and wonder felt familiar.
Tristan’s smile
. It was like this enchanting rainbow light,
so unique and beautiful. My head and chest felt heavy again.

Love did work in strange ways. It’d caught me
completely off guard before, and now I was head over heels with an
impossible dream. This was the price I had to pay for my
weakness—suffer for a love that could never be. I could understand
the frustration of Romeo and Juliet now. Being in love and not
being able to be together, separated by force, by different worlds.
I used to think it was romantic, but in that moment, it was the
opposite. It wasn’t pretty at all.

I stood up and walked to the bathroom to
brush my teeth. My reflection in the mirror showed a face etched by
sorrow—wet cheeks, watery eyes, crimson eyelids, red nose. I washed
my face, trying to erase the color of sadness, and dried it with a
towel. A sudden fatigue began to weigh down my body, driving me
back to bed once more. I shambled out from the bathroom and…and I
stopped.

“I'm sorry to come like this,” Tristan
apologized, staring at me. He was standing beneath the crystal.
Exhaustion and pain etched his face.

I gaped, my mouth open with surprise, my
spirit suddenly full of joy, sadness and confusion.

“But I needed to see you,” he continued,
still keeping his distance. “I’ve been running nonstop, going from
Las Cruces all the way up to Santa Fe and Farmington, trying to
leave behind this…this twinge of pain in my chest, to get away
and…ended up in front of your house. I saw the door of your balcony
open and…”

My heart pounded. He kept looking at me,
waiting for me to say something. But I didn’t know what to say.
Words were too complicated, the mess of feelings inside of me too
tight.

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have come,”
he said, shamefaced. “I'm sorry.” He turned toward the balcony.

“Wait!” I called, stepping forward. He turned
and looked at me. “Please, don’t go,” I begged. Doubt flickered in
his eyes. “If you don’t want to kill me for a second time,
don’t.”

He reached up and stroked my face, the touch
of his hand tilting my head in pleasure. “I'd rather die before
hurting you,” he said, with a fiery voice, burning my soul.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned
on his chest. The warmth of his body was pleasantly heated. I
tightened my arms against him. I needed him. I needed him so
much.

He took me in his arms and buried his face in
my hair. “You’re my sun, Kalista,” he whispered above my ear. “My
outage girl. I need you.” He raised my chin to look at me.

I was back in heaven, straight from hell.
“Are you saying you’re going to…to stay with me?” I asked,
astounded.

“Do you mind?” he smiled, brushing the hair
from my face.

I couldn’t believe this. It was too good to
be true. Was I sure I hadn’t fallen asleep on the floor and was
having a dream? “Please don’t lie to me. I won’t be able to stand
it if it’s a lie.”

He leaned closer, looking at me intensely and
said, “I'm here, breaking all the rules of my world to touch you…”
He stroked my face. “…to feel you, and you think this isn’t
true?”

I placed my hand over his and looked into his
beautiful eyes, words far gone from my mouth.

He took my hand and placed it on his heart.
“My life doesn’t work without you anymore,” he said, lacing his
long fingers with mine. “I don’t know how we’re going to work this
out, but as long as you want me to be next to you, I’ll be here.”
He pressed my hand against his chest. “I’ve learned that some
things are definitely worth the effort.”

I smiled.

He was making a huge sacrifice to be with me,
the sweetest sacrifice, and even if this moment seemed a fantasy, I
wanted to believe it. I wanted to open my heart to him.

I looked at him, his dark brown hair gleaming
that lovely chestnut halo to the sunlight’s glow. “I want to be
with you. That’s what I believe in,” I said, touching his face.

He smiled. “And that’s all I need.”

A warm breeze blew the crystal, twisting the
rainbow facets and turning them into surreal butterflies. “You hung
it up,” he said, pleased, looking around. “It really brightens your
room—not that your ceiling isn’t beautiful,” he added.

My ceiling? The painted stars were only
visible in the pitch-dark. The sunlight obliterated them. They were
invisible now. “Have you been here before?” I wondered, pushing
back my face to look at him.

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