Memories (Completed)
Author: Jewel Heart

Chapter 20
20

I returned home late that night. James had mysteriously chosen to run slower than usual. When we had been going to the beach, we had only taken a few minutes. But when going home, we were running at a slower pace. I couldn’t tell if James’s reason for going slowly was because it was dark outside or because he just didn’t want to rush. With James it was hard to tell, it would always be hard to tell.

I walked inside after James had given me my goodnight kiss, and quietly shut the door behind me. The lights were turned off and it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the low light. Once they had, I was already halfway across the lobby. I reached the light switch and turned the lights on. They bothered my eyes, but they adjusted faster to the brightness than they did to the darkness. Maybe it was a weird side effect that came when you were just turned. Since your body isn’t used to the sharp senses and the peripheral vision that comes along with being a vampire. And vampires are creatures that live hidden under shadows as their protective shelters. I turned around to head upstairs and my muscles tensed as I froze.

“Holy crap!” I exclaimed, jumping backwards and slamming into the wooden table behind me. It hurt, but inside me alarms were set off and I could barely feel the incredibly large splinter in my hand. “Mom, what are you doing?” I asked, regaining myself.

Molly was sitting down on one of our elegant white couches, watching me. Her long, curly red hair delicately fell over her shoulders. She was wearing nice pink Capri’s and a white spaghetti strap pajama top—all silk and designer, of course. Everything complimented her. And the pink Capri’s that she had chosen made her blue eyes pop. She had a cup of coffee in her hands and she took a sip.

That startled me. Molly once swore that she would never drink coffee in a million years. What had suddenly changed her mind?

“You know that it’s one in the morning?” she asked. “Why were you out so late?”

I shrugged, considering everything that I could say to explain myself. “I'm a vampire now,” I said, choosing the simplest explanation. “James and everyone were teaching me the basics.” I decided not to elaborate on what the basics were exactly. She had studied this stuff. She should know.

It wasn’t the best choice, though. “A vampire,” she breathed astounded. “You’re a vampire now?”

I nodded. “But somehow I still have my other traits.” I disappeared and reappeared over at a chair to give her a demonstration of my new abilities. “I can still do magic and shape-shift. I'm learning one of those tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she asked quickly switching gears. “But, what about your birthday party? Giovanni is coming over tomorrow to plan it with you.”

I frowned. “I’ll have to skip school? Be without James?” I asked. “That’s not really fair.” I leaned forward, put my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands.

“It’s your party. It’s going to be something that you like, designed and organized by you,” she answered. “But, going back to the topic, you’re a vampire?”

The corners of my lips twitched. I wonder why I find this so funny. Molly usually freaks out over this kind of stuff, and it’s more annoying than funny, really.

“Yes. I'm a full-fledged vampire.” I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were a witch and that dad was a vampire?” I bombarded her with the question while she was off guard.

Her expression softened. “Because it was too dangerous,” she said softly. “No more information for the moment,” she stopped me before I could say anything.

I locked her gaze for a moment, hoping that I would see some humor in her eyes to show me that she was kidding. There wasn’t any. She was dead serious. In rare moments like this, I knew that it would be a problem if I argued. I remained quiet.

“So,” she changed the topic again, “what did you learn?” She set her cup of coffee on the expensive coffee table in front of her.

I shrugged again. I searched for the right words to describe the rush of everything. How the blood had tasted when I had sunk my teeth into that rabbit. How the adrenaline rush had smacked me in the face when I began running. How I fought Andrew with my instincts. It was hard to put feelings like that into words. So, I decided to show her the main attraction.

I kept my mouth closed as I brushed my instincts with my mind. I quickly began feeling everything around me as my senses sharpened. I felt something poke at my lower lip and grinned without opening my mouth. Molly inquisitively raised a frightened eyebrow at me. I gave her another minute to ponder on the mystery of what I was smiling about. Then I gave her a full smile, revealing my delicate fangs.

She straightened up. “Oh, my God!” she breathed. Then she began shaking gently. “I swear, if he were alive, I’d kill him,” she mused furiously.

I didn’t understand what she was all worked up about. “What’s wrong?” I asked mystified. Then I remembered what James had seen. “Is it the red eyes? Cause that’s probably a side effect that comes along with being The Animus Materia,” I assured her.

It was a huge mistake to have said that. “You’re the what?” she exclaimed, shooting up from her chair.

My lips parted and I didn’t move. I stared at her, desperately searching for a way to get myself out of this one. James was going to kill me now. When her stare got to the point where I thought that it would kill me, I answered her. “I'm The Ani—”

“I know what you said,” she snapped. I grimaced. Molly shouldn’t have drunk that coffee. She just couldn’t handle that much caffeine. “But you can't! My daughter is not the—that!”

My expression turned wry and I began feeling awkward. That was a big mistake that I just made. Now I had to sit quietly as she scolded me at one in the morning.

“I'm sorry,” I apologized when she paused for a breath. “I never intended to be it. I would have been happy if I wasn’t born as it, but I am.”

Her harsh expression blanked. “That was why,” she murmured under her breath. I really couldn’t tell if she was talking to me or herself. But, something was wrong with her. I was really starting to get worried. She flinched.  “How did you find out that you’re The Animus Materia?” she asked without hesitation this time.

“James told me,” I answered. “Yesterday when I was with him at Crystal Flower.” I remembered the way he had looked when explaining this to me. Molly’s expression resembled the one that James had.

“He just up and told you about that?” she exclaimed. “I thought better of James. It turns out he’s just another smug royal looking for an easy—”

“No, actually,” I interrupted her. “Dr. Freeze, he called me that. He thought that I knew I was a witch. After that I asked James about it,” I explained, trying to spare James a dreadful, unremitting lecture from Molly. “James didn’t technically have anything to do with me finding out.”

“But he explained it to you,” she snapped. So much for sparing James. “But what’s bothering me is that he awakened you when he knows that you’re reincarnated.”

Awakened me? Does she mean that he turned me into a vampire? “No, he didn’t um…awaken me,” I said hesitantly.

“But if he didn’t, then who did?” she asked, a dangerous angry glint in her blue eyes.

Carefully choosing my words, I explained the concept of a half-blood being turned into a full vampire without having their necks violated. I worked around what I had said to Lizette, explaining respectfully and more clearly to Molly. Then I told her what James had done to awaken my vampiric instincts.

When I finished, she remained quiet for a few moments, analyzing what I had just explained. “That’s…unusual,” she finally said. I nodded faintly.

“But, Mom, don’t go and start investigating about this,” I pleaded. “Let me figure this one out on my own. I don’t want you to get tangled up in dangerous things that could get you hurt or killed.”

I probably should have known better than to defy her. It had been written all over her face. She wanted to figure out what was going on so that she could help me. It was just too dangerous.

Obvious anger flickered in her eyes. “Lumex Cockcrow!” she began lecturing me. “How many times do I have to tell you that while you live under my roof, your business is my business…?” she exclaimed. Rebellious thoughts came to mind as she scolded me. They hung on my tongue, and I had to fight so that I wouldn’t say my thoughts aloud. Molly stopped for half a second. “Do you have a diary?” she suddenly asked.

I blinked. “I'm sorry, what?” Where did that come from? At one moment she’s yelling at me and then she needs to know if I have a diary? Molly’s losing it. She gave me a stern look that told me that she didn’t want to have to repeat herself. “No, I don’t. It’s cliché.”

“Never mind,” she said suddenly. She turned around and began walking away. She headed towards the staircase and I thought that our conversation had ended. I began to stand up, concentration on retracting my fangs. “Stay,” she ordered. “I’ll be right back.” She walked past the staircase and into the hallway that led to her office.

She disappeared from sight and I cautiously sat back down. I ran a hand through my hair tiredly. All I really wanted to do right now was go to bed. A moment later, a door slammed shut and Molly reappeared with a book in her hands. I ignored the object she was holding and concentrated on her expression. It was unreadable. Her eyes were blank and so was the rest of her face.

Damn. How do people do that? It’s really annoying, but still convenient. A poker face is something you’re born with. But a blank expression is something that you could learn to do. I would have to find a way to acquire that skill.

Molly sat back down across from me. She set the book on the table and slid it towards me. I noticed now that it was a thick book with a black hardcover. It was akin to the one that had been in the cabin. That book with the blank pages. I took hold of it and opened to the first page. I frowned in confusion.

It was blank.

I flipped through the pages, disappointed to see nothing there. I closed it and flipped it to the back, examining it for something. Finally I gave up and asked, “What is this?” I held it in one hand. Molly sighed and stood up.

She came around the table and sat down next to me. “I'm disappointed,” she admitted. “James should have explained at least this to you.” I watched her puzzled. She sighed and reached across the table for something. There were sealed and opened envelopes scattered on it. But it wasn’t any of that that she was reaching for. Instead, she grabbed the letter opener.

“Mom, what are you—?” I began asking.

Molly raised a hand to stop me. “This book is called an archaic lunate.” She took it from me and lightly brushed the cover with her fingertips. “It can reveal anything about you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a human or not. All you need,” she took the letter opener and swiftly made a cut in her wrist. I winced as I watched her spill her blood onto one of the blank pages, “is a little blood.”

I winced. The scent of blood was beginning to engulf me. It was taunting me. “Mom, I don’t think that’ll work—” I stopped abruptly as I watched the page with Molly’s blood. What used to be white was stained with dark red spots, and where it used to be crimson and white, words were beginning to form.

“Now,” said Molly, “my entire life is written very precisely in details right on these pages. Well, most of my life, anyways,” she corrected herself. “What you see is what you know. There isn’t any new information given to you.” Vigilantly she eyed me. “Your history must be very long if you really are The Animus Materia. Nevertheless, there are very few of these in the world,” she said, closing the book and handing it to me. “Mostly only the royal families have them, but I was able to pull some strings. A friend had an extra one that he didn’t mind giving away.” She took one sad look at the book and then offered me the letter opener. “That’s why it’s important that your enemy never gets a sample of your blood. Every villain wants one of these. And for you especially, it’s a deathtrap.”

I took it from her and frowned. I twisted the letter opener in my hand. Everything in Black Moon somehow relates to blood. It’s not really a surprise. But, it is confusing. It doesn’t really make sense that everything is related to it. Maybe just the vampire stuff would be understandable, but not for everyone else. I wasn’t sure if this was a question to ask Molly of. James neither, but Violet or Scarlett…maybe, just maybe.

“I'm not interested in reading about my past,” I said. “Because, I know my past. If somebody wants to know mine, then…well, that’s their problem. I'm not spilling blood for useless information.”

She gave a short, dry laugh. It scared me to hear her laugh like that. The laugh was almost malicious and her expression was cold. “You’d be surprised by how useful this thing can be. But, if anyone gets a hold of even a drop of your blood, then, every little secret is revealed. And that can be very—extremely—dangerous.” Molly sighed and stood up. “Anyways, I'm tired. Go to bed and we’ll talk tomorrow. I know that you have a lot of questions." She began heading up the left staircase.

“Mom,” I called after her. She stopped and looked at me from over her shoulder. “You don’t need to explain anything. Yet.” I stood up, never looking away from her. “Let me survive my seventeenth birthday, and then we’ll talk. Alright?”

Her eyes turned grim. “You better be alive,” she said. She stared me down for a moment, her blue eyes captivating, and then, she continued up the stairs.

I watched her go and then when she was finally out of sight, I grabbed the archaic lunate, set down the letter opener, and opened it. My eyes widened when I flipped to the first page, the page that had been drenched in Molly’s intoxicating blood. The pages had absorbed the blood and ink and now there wasn’t even the smallest trace of what had just stained it. The book didn’t even smell like blood. I studied it carefully, flipping through all of the pages to come up blank. It was gone. All of it.

This new world works in mysterious, illogical ways. Such a large stain of blood can't disappear just like that. Who the hell makes these things? Witches probably. But, I could never rely on my instincts to answer these kinds of questions. It was very, very frustrating. Nott knowing what was going on in a world that should be familiar to you could really agitate you. No wonder you had to be taught about this stuff. Otherwise, some people could go insane.

I shut the archaic lunate angrily. I ignored the letter opener. It was mocking me. It was becoming a temptation to see how this thing worked. I marched to the stairs. I went up one step and froze. I extended me senses, searching around for the threat.

My first problem was locating it. I was in a large room with a lot of hiding space. The threat level told me that it was nearby, though. My eyes skimmed the area in search for something out of the ordinary. There was nothing there. Okay, so right now it’s an invisible threat.

I tried sniffing out the source for my disturbance. This was harder to do. I only had so much to smell. I was standing at one of the farther ends of the room. I could only smell half of the room. My foe had apparently chosen a good hiding spot, knowing that I wouldn’t want to bring any attention to myself as I searched for it.

Then, came the problem of what would happen if I found it. Hold my ground or spring? After today’s lesson with Andrew, I learned that to attack without thinking isn’t always the best choice. You have to know exactly what you’re going to do. You have to predict your opponent’s next movement. Though, still, it depends on who your opponent is.

After a few minutes, my eyelids began getting heavy. I left the topic alone, ignoring the yearn inside me to go into action, and walked upstairs. I still felt as if I was in danger, and a little voice was protesting that I should go back and search the area. I made it to the top of the staircase and found someone I hadn't expected to see.

I stopped in my tracks and met his eyes. “Matthew, did we wake you?” I asked. Matthew was standing against a wall in a dirty gray t-shirt and black sweatpants with his arms crossed over his chest. “I'm sorry; it’s usually just Molly and me. We’re not used to company,” I apologized.

His golden eyes were cold as he watched me. “No, you didn’t wake me,” he said, his voice matching, if not overpowering, the emotion in his eyes.

I suppressed a shiver and shook it off. I glanced over at the dark hallway. He was probably the one that had alerted my senses. He’s not a threat, I told myself, hoping that it would deactivate my alarm system. It never did and I could tell why.

There was something bad about Matthew. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something about him that I truly disliked. Something that my subconscious had sharply noticed at the moment of our encounter. It had alerted me, sure—but, very poorly.

His eyes moved down to look at the book in my hands. “What’s that?” he asked, frowning.

Being a vampire he probably knew what it was. That was why it confused me that he would ask. Maybe he was following Molly’s security plan too. Nevertheless, he didn’t like that I had it. He took a step forward and reached for it.

I hid it behind my back, not wanting him to take it. Damn it, Andrew! His lesson had sunken in and now the little voice was echoing his lesson over and over. Everyone can deceit you. Especially your friends and family. His stupid little lesson, I had to admit, was true. Everyone was the bad guy in some way. And when you were the bad guy, lying was one of your specialties. That was why this side of my family, especially, could, and probably would, deceit me.

“It’s my…diary.” I decided to use that lie. It was the first thing that had popped into my head. God damn it, Molly! Why a diary? “Totally off limits from everyone,” I said smoothly. “It never leaves my side.”

He stopped and his eyes narrowed. He took a step back, a shadow covering his face. “You’re sure?” he asked. I gave him an annoyed face and nodded. “Because, you don’t seem like the kind of person who would keep a journal,” he retorted.

I shrugged carelessly. “You can't really judge a book by its cover. With me, that’s kinda the main rule."

He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm,” he mumbled pensively. “That’s interesting.”

I gave him a cautious, puzzled look. I wasn’t planning on letting my guard down, even if I was facing my uncle. The odds were against him. For one, he was a vampire…but, so was I. Still, I hadn't ever met him before just yesterday. And yesterday, Chloe and Luke had come into my complicated life. I had jumped off a balcony and just barely survived. It was a little hard to trust in him.

“You’re like your father in some ways, but more like your mother.” He considered that for a moment. “It’s strange that the only thing in common you have with your mother is…well, mostly her figure. But, with your father, it’s just the hair.” His eyes narrowed as he looked me over. He took another step back and then nodded. “Yes. And the skin, too, but your personality is definitely your mother’s.” He sighed exhausted. “I'm disappointed.” With that said, he turned around and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

I stared mystified after him, too engaged by his words to actually ask for a translation. For five years I had known my dad. And in those five years, he had proven to be no better than Molly at being a parent. He worked and would occasionally spend time with me. Though, him being as reckless as he was, I would get hurt more often. I just wasn’t as carefree as he had been. I remember one time when we went to the beach, he had lost me and I had been the one that had to find him. So, I found that it just wasn’t a hazard to my health and wellbeing to be with Molly or without him. But, now that he was gone, I missed those times we spent together. But, for me to be like him? It was ridiculous. I wasn’t reckless at all. I wasn’t throwing myself in front of danger, trying to get attention. I was the opposite, always hiding and shielding myself from any immediate danger. My dad, asides from keeping his being a vampire from me, was an open book, revealing everything.

Again, I dismissed the feelings of confusion, but a new wave was born form it. I suppose that I am like Molly in some ways, but not that much either. Well, not that I can see, anyway. On the outside there wasn’t much to compare either. We were thin, I was a little skinnier than she was, but still, Molly, like everyone else on her side of the family, were like sticks. But, my dad and I…some features were more noticeable. The vampire’s skin—which I had believed to be albino skin until now—and the dark brown hair that would every now and then glow golden under the light of the sun. The sadness in our eyes—the coldness that worked as a cover for the one emotion was also there. I flinched.

I sighed, squared my shoulders, and walked towards my room. Questions were annoyingly rising to the surface because of my puzzlement over what Matthew had implied. The persuasion of having my questions answered increased as I passed an Oakwood door. I stopped in my tracks to look back at the shabby door.

It threw off the whole image of the room, making it look untidy. The loose door had a poor color. It hasn’t been used since I was five and its color had been lost about six years after that. Now, instead of a strong dark brown, it was a dull paling tan. The worn out wood was stained with a few darkening spots of red finger prints and scratch marks were all over it. The door was locked, like always. I didn’t have to go jiggle the doorknob to know that. Molly had locked it when I was younger and then hidden the key somewhere, never telling me where it was.

I shut my eyes as a bloody image mocked me, and ran a hand through my hair. A minute later, the pain in my heart had dissolved enough that I was able to force myself away from the door. I struggled to control my emotions and not run screaming to my room

I opened my door and quietly shut it behind me. I didn’t bother turning on my lamp and just walked over to my bed. I set the archaic lunate down on my side table and fell onto my bed. I had a lot to think about.

Molly wouldn’t answer my questions tomorrow, I concluded. She isn’t going to give me too much information and my questions require a lot of it. I wanted to know why exactly she had kept all of this a secret from me since the moment I was born. I wanted to know how she had managed to convince everyone to keep it a secret from me. I wanted to know why my dad was hunted down. If there was a particular reason why he was, then what was it? Because someone had murdered him. And when I found out who it was, I was going to terminate them from the face of the earth.

As quickly as the rage against Molly had appeared, it vanished. Maybe James was right. Maybe it was best if I didn’t know some things. After all, Molly had gone to the trouble of not telling me that I was a half-blood for sixteen years. She deserves some credit. So, I'm not going to ponder too much on the subject. And as long as I get some answers, I can live peacefully. Or hope to live.

From the moment I was informed of my death date, I had been bracing myself for the worst, knowing that somehow things would work out. Knowing that I would figure something out. But, now as I carefully analyzed everything that I have learned over the past day, I can't decide if I can really ever learn to live with this. I mean, being part of Black Moon is one thing...but, being The Animus Materia too? It was a very important job. Maybe even the most important job. And it was a lot of pressure to know that one day I could either destroy or save the world. I just wish that everybody would stop expecting so much of me.

My heart hurt as I recalled what had happened earlier. Even though James claimed that the engagement was off, I couldn’t help but feel jealous. Having my boyfriend taken away from that, it was slowly ripping me apart. And the mystery of the ring. I don’t know if it’d be best for me to ignore the subject or actually see it. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it. I waited a few minutes, hoping that my stomach would relax and that my silent heart would resume—oh, God.

My heart.

The last time I heard it make a sound was when Lizette had announced that she was James’s fiancée. Is the transformation really complete? I had had hopes that my heart would never stop because of the fact that I was a half-breed. I was wrong and I hated it. I never really considered how the stopping of my heart beat would affect me. It hurt pretty badly. Without a heart beating it was like I lost everything that connected me to living creatures like humans.

Still, my heart hurt badly and thinking of James wasn’t helping me. I bit on my silk pillow and screamed into it. It didn’t help. I still felt like there was a lump in my throat and my stomach had been rolled into a ball and then beaten. My heart felt as if it’d been stabbed with a sharp wooden stake and then shredded into pieces. I wasn’t used to feeling this. I wasn’t used to feeling this awful over a guy. And I never expected this to happen with my soul mate, my twin flame. I wasn’t used to wanting to kill someone because of jealousy either. God! Being a vampire, I can handle. Being chased by guys wherever I went, I could handle. Dealing with the loss of my beloved father, I could handle. But one tiny mistake to occur, one sad truth to be revealed, and my world begins falling apart? This isn’t real. This shouldn’t be happening. But, if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that I wasn’t going to make fun of those people on soap operas anymore.

I wanted to suppress every feeling that was revolving inside me at the moment. I wanted sleep to engulf me already so that I didn’t have to remain with these feelings even for a few hours. Being sleeping beauty would be really nice right now. Being caught in eternal sleep would be nice, just so that I wouldn’t feel so repulsive. I screamed into my pillow again.

Then I burst into tears.

While screaming because of anger was one thing, crying was a completely different subject. I didn’t like the way my face became wet, or the way my eyes felt sore and swollen after every tear had been shed. And as if my heart didn’t hurt enough, now it had to get heavier and at the same time become a hollow. I hated being emotionally drained like this, and at the same time loved it. It let all of my unwanted emotions go away for a few heavenly moments. Nevertheless, they were still there, hidden by my flare that appeared at the same moment that the tears began forming.

I screamed again into my pillow, this time out of frustration from the tears. At least nobody was here to see me at the moment. I think it had been once that I had cried in public. When was that? I ignored the question and returned to my grieving.

Suddenly I began panting and my screams turned piercing, just like the one I had given after seeing Brian drained. It was a good thing that this was a big house. If not, somebody would have been alerted. It was like I was being done surgery on without any drugs in my body to numb the pain. I really never imagined love to hurt so much. But, like Violet had said, love was a powerful thing. Maybe, just maybe, it was a little too powerful.

The argument with Jeff suddenly ran through my head. And then, the funeral—that might be mine—image.

Was that image that I saw real? Would James really kill himself if I vanished, not waiting for me to reappear? But, those gray eyes were horribly…well, I still couldn’t describe it. I remembered Jeff’s example with the girl. He was right after all. The real thing was worse. And what I saw wasn’t even the real thing. But, still, the question annoyed and scared me. Would he really go through with it?

Again, the combination of anger and relaxation ran through my body like electricity in an electrical pole. I didn’t scream into the pillow this time. This time, I thought hard, letting all of my feelings be the match that started the fire of my pondering.

He had said that he could never win an argument against me—or at least that it was very difficult. So, if I argued enough with him about this, then would he leave the subject alone and just wait for me? But, even if he did do that, everybody gets tired of living at one point. Isn't that how it goes? I’ve had the thought of suicide many times in my past, but now, looking back at my life—it was still damned bad, but it’s not a horrible thing to live. It’s actually a blessing that we all take for granted.

Sadness washed over me now, and my thoughts shifted. Was he sick of me living? Was he sick of having to wait around for me life after life? I love him strongly, oh, God, I do, but, maybe he’s tired of me. Maybe he’s tired of wasting every waking moment with me when he could do so much better. Maybe he was realizing that he wanted to live up to his family name. To marry a pureblood, like Lizette said. There wasn’t a need for him to be with someone so low beneath him. I mean, I was even lower than a made vampire. I might be an even lower species than humans.

Thinking of James’s family brought back the frustration, more powerful than ever. Was everyone keeping secrets from me? James’s family included? The relationship between my family and James’s was the secrecy. And, there was something about Jeremiah and everyone that made me feel queasy. Queasy, as in, There’s something wrong going on. They were definitely keeping something from me—probably. What about Vivian? Scarlett? One of my “friends?” About Brooke, I wasn’t sure. My long-life best friend wouldn’t deceit me. Would?—no. Not her. I dismissed the idea before it could sink in and get stuck in my head. Just like Andrew’s lesson.

The little voice was still repeating those few words in the background. I never asked for this. I never asked for a soul mate that could break my heart without even trying. Or a parent who didn’t tell me who—or what in this case—I really was.

Though…even now, I wasn’t sure of who I really was. With so many personalities, I found myself choking on them all. Drowning, even. It was like every little ounce of my being was displayed in a crystal clear pool, pulling me down and engulfing me.

Was my real person Bloom? That one was hard to describe. Most of my memory as her was blank. I don’t know who my family was, how I met James, or how I died. I might be Lily, the sassy, bratty dark haired chick. I wanted to laugh. Sassy. I guess that in some way, I’ve always been like this. I wonder what other connections I can make. I considered that for a moment, but then decided that it would take too long to put everything together. Going back to the main topic, was I like Melody, maybe? Sweet and kind? The little flower that James has always thought of me as? Not anymore I wasn’t. Everyone would just have to get used to that idea. And, surprisingly, even I would have to learn to live with it. I went through a few more options and finally gave up. I recalled something I had thought of a moment ago and opened up a whole new argument.

I’ve never given in to James’s desire to protect me and try and save me from the world. Not once that I can remember. And yet, inside…it seemed to be a different matter. In this strange, strange state that I was in, I couldn’t quite reach anything inside of me. Not my heart, not my feelings, not my soul. Not anything. Nevertheless, I could feel something deep down inside that said that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. That maybe letting someone act as your knight in shining armor wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It says that if I let him in, then maybe I would like it. If I let myself become a vulnerable little dainty flower, then maybe I’d find joy in it. And let’s face it, being a fighter takes up a lot of energy and is a lot of work. For a second that little voice sounded…well, reasonable. It might actually be nice not having to worry about being beaten up in a fight.

Nevertheless, it was dirtier to sit back and relax when you could fight while letting someone else take care of your problem, than having someone do your dirty business for you because you didn’t want to get your hands dirty.

From that, a new wrath was born, practically liquidizing the other problems that were revolving around in my head. This time—thankfully—I wasn’t addressing my own problems. It was like in the past when I hadn't known James. It was like those times when I regretted living in a world filled with so much hate. Those people who sent out others to do their work for them were one of the most repulsing. On the other hand, the ones that were even below them were those that did these tasks willingly, knowing that the kind of labor they were doing was because of a lazy assed son of a bitch.

Oh, damn.

It seems like this does relate to me. On both ends of the rope, too. James’s coworkers, they were technically doing his dirty work by searching for me. Did the fact that he had been searching too cancel out this notion, though? I mean, he might have people searching through the deepest holes to find me, but he had been too. Or had he only been roaming around carelessly, hoping that he would have a stroke of good luck and find me? He didn’t seem like that kind of guy. Then again, he was a spoiled prince that always got what he wanted. Or, almost all that he wanted. A wry smile suddenly curled onto my lips, distorting all of my features that displayed torture and unhappiness. I was a little happy that things we discussed about were the things that he rarely won. Nevertheless, this wasn’t time for one of my selfish thoughts. I was still facing another relation.

My enemy—whoever he was—was also using people dishonestly. In my long memory, I could never dig up the right ones. I could never discover the ones that would help me survive and prevent making contact with his agents. I couldn’t believe that one person could cause so much harm. There had to be more minions in the story. It was just hard to figure out the difference between the minions and the leader. There should probably be a way to tell them apart.

This was why I hated that I couldn’t remember. The worst part was that my one ticket to figuring everything out, to knowing everything, was blocked. The archaic lunate would only give me so much information. And like Molly had noted, it was useful…for the enemy. Like all the others, I suppressed the idea.

Somewhere in between my thoughts, I had unconsciously begun relaxing. My grip on the pillow had relaxed, and so had my jaw. Even though my heart still felt heavy, I felt like a feather on my soft bed. And now, the comfortable furniture was increasing my sleepiness. Soon enough, I fell into unconsciousness.

 

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