EDITED! I suggest you go back and read many of my changes. I have taken out the previous chapter four and five and put them aside for now. They are a bit rough, but hopefully good. -Jayleigh
Four
Four
I watched my feet as they silently stepped along the sidewalk. That was how I always found myself walking. Whether out of habit or obsessive compulsiveness, I did not know. The bitter autumn air kissed my ears ever so slightly and caused me to pull my hood over my head and hug myself close.
I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings while I walked, so I was very surprised when someone spoke beside me.
“Need a ride?”
It was Foster in a flashy black BMW. He had his tinted passenger’s window half down and smiled up at me from across the seat.
“I’m fine. Thanks anyway,” I said as politely as I could.
“Fay, c’mon. It’s cold. Just get in.”
I considered it, but decided against it, playing a game Fawn had once told me about.
“I’m fine,” I repeated.
I crossed the street in front of him and walked down a one way street. I glanced behind me to see that he had followed me down the street and was able to get close to the curb. He put down the driver’s window to talk again.
“You’re going to get sick, you know.”
I just shrugged.
We were silent as I walked and his car slowly crawled along the street. “Fawn really left without you?” he finally asked.
I shrug again. “I don’t need a babysitter.” The whole playing-hard-to-get thing was getting harder. He was right, it was cold. Way too cold.
“I’m sure you don’t. But humor me, please.”
I stop to look at him, and then at the cloudy sky above. “Looks like rain,” he says, reading my thoughts.
I sighed in defeat and stepped off the sidewalk. My head stayed down as I walked in front of his car to get in.
*
“You know how much I love you, right?”
We were at the dinner table, eating soup that Fawn had concocted. Our mother was unable to attend our supper. For work reasons, she assured us. Fawn and I both agreed she had found a boyfriend, but had not found a way to tell us.
“What?”
Fawn sighed. “Even though we may fight sometimes, I still love you.”
I shrugged. Where was this coming from? “Whatever.”
Fawn rolled her eyes and looked down at her soup. It was chicken noodle soup, with carrots and some green vegetable that I couldn’t identify.
“I heard you got a ride home from Foster today,” Fawn started.
“Because you left without me…again.”
I averted my gaze to the painting on the wall. It was large and was painted by some Aztec want-to-be artist. The pots were painted to be broken, but the designs on the pottery were beautiful even with a few cracks down the middle. Light brown swirls with beige and red danced along the two pots. I never understood why our mother would buy such a painting. No matter how beautiful it was, it was not worth the months of tightening the belt.
“Are you even listening to me?” Fawn asked, waving her hand in front of my face.
“What?”
Fawn scoffed. “You know, sometimes you really weird me out. What’s wrong with you?”
I shrugged. “Just tired I guess.” It was a lie. I didn’t feel tired; I just didn’t want to be talked down to by my twin sister.
“You’ve been feeling it to?” She asked. “Ever since drama started, I’ve been so tired. I must be sharing your exhaustion.”
I laughed. “Oh yeah, that’s it.”
Fawn smiled.
“So, do you remember why mom named us Fawn and Fayette. They are pretty strange. I mean, what was she thinking?”
I shrugged. “You know how she’s into her fiction. Maybe she thought they were unique and poetic. I don’t question it. I like being the only Fayette in our school.”
Fawn laughed at that. “Yeah, being the only Fawn doesn’t suck so much either.”
I took the bowl that was in front of Fawn in one hand and mine in the other and dumped the remaining soup down the sink. I put them both in the dishwasher and went back to the table for our cups. Fawn was silent the entire time I cleaned up. She stared at the table, unblinkingly.
“Is there something else you wanted to talk about?” I asked.
She finally blinked and looked up at me as I stood behind my chair. “Warren still hasn’t asked me out.” Her voice was weak.
I sat down to be at her eye level. “It’s only been a week. Give him a little time to settle in.”
Fawn shrugged. “I’ve done everything right. He should be eating out of the palm of my hands by now. But it’s like…it’s like he is in control of us.” She looked up at me wide eyed and added, “I need to fix him.”
*
Mom still hadn’t arrived home by the time Fawn had passed out on the living room sofa. She had the television on mute, her laptop on her legs, and her ear buds in. I tiptoed past her to grab the remote to shut the television off. Slowly, I took the ear buds out of her ears and wrapped them around her Ipod. Picking up her laptop, I froze. Fawn muttered something under her breath and rolled over. I closed her computer and placed it on the coffee table.
I went up to my room, my feet moving slowly, leaving Fawn with an afghan wrapped around her like a cocoon on the sofa.
My fingers trailed along my school books as I contemplated doing my homework. My bed, however, looked oh so inviting with its light purple sheets and comforter. I kick off my shoes and unbutton my pants quickly before I lay my head down to sleep.
*
I am on the floor, sitting on wet leaves and dirt. I stand whipping my hands on pants, but I am in shock as I see that I am wearing a full length, cotton skirt. I walk forwards out of the wood. The small town in the clearing seemed like something out of Pilgrim Plantation.
The houses are made of logs and have grass roofs. Each house has a small garden in their back yards where many women were busy picking up carrots or cabbages.
“What the hell?” I say.
I am shaken when, off in the distance, I hear a scream. I run in the direction of the woman’s horse yell. I come up to a wooden fence, logs piled on top of each other. A few young boys are dancing on the top log, and then they both count to three and jump.
Another scream.
I run. I hope over the fence and see a young woman sitting up against it with her arms above her head.
Blood is trickling down her arms and face. Her hands are under the logs, about half way down the fence.
“Oh my God!” I say.
I scream. I tell the boys to let her go, to leave her be, but they do not acknowledge me.
“How now, Melinda?” one of the boys laugh. “Serves you right, you witch!” Both boys hope off the fence and look at their poor victim. “Serves you right,” the boy repeated.
Once the boys are far away, I walk up to the woman. She whispers, “my babies.” Then she closes her eyes.
My mom was sitting at the foot of my bed, my light blazed into my eyes.
I said, horse and scratchy,” What’s going on?”
She tucked my sheets in tighter. “I just wanted to ask you how you felt about something.”
“Okay?”
She hesitated, and then said, “How do you feel about me seeing someone?” My mom was avoiding my eyes but peeked at me as she finished.
“Mom, that’d be great.” I tried to sound excited and sincere, I really did. But sleep was taking over my body again.
My mom smiled. “I’ll tell you more soon. Go back to bed.” She stood, kissed me on the forehead, and went to my door. “Good night,” she whispered.
But I was already in the darkness again.
I stand in front of Melinda once again.
“Melinda?” Someone calls from behind the fences.
Somehow, the clear day turned to night within moments, as if time had sped up.
“Melinda, darling,” the voice exclaimed.
A figure pops over the fence and touches Melinda’s face. He kneels next to her with a pain stricken face.
But that is not what holds my attention.
My eyes widen in surprise.
The figure before me is not just a figure, but a glowing figure. And his glow flows off of him in waves of warmth.
His body is so tanned, he looks like gold. His honeyed hair falls in curled locks around his shoulders. The boy’s intense eyes that are fixated on Melinda seem as if they are golden nuggets, bright and lustrous.
Once my eyes move away from his chiseled jaw, I see something sprouting behind his back. What seem to be golden flames that are coming out of his back, are wings.
“I am supposed to protect you,” he whispers.
He stands in front of Melinda and lifts the logs effortlessly. Her hands, covered with the crimson blood, fall limply to her sides.
“I have failed you, my love.”
