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Forgotten Page 7

by Jennifer Sucevic


  A joke.

  But why?

  "Where are you hiding?" I scream at the silent trees. "Just tell me what the hell you want!”

  I can’t take this anymore. The meeting in the woods, the note in the library, the strange image in the mirror, the dance at homecoming, and now this!

  After what feels like miles, I finally crash my way into a small clearing. My eyes dart around as I skid to a sudden halt. My heart is racing. My breathing comes out in short labored puffs. Already it feels as if I've lost my tenuous grasp on reality. My eyes skim over the clearing but there’s no one here. It's empty. Disappointment knifes through me.

  I need this to be over with.

  I need answers.

  Because I’m feeling precariously close to losing my mind right now.

  A thin stream slices through it. Bright morning sunlight filters down through the fiery hued leaves. I hear the rush of water as it flows over its pebbly bed of rocks. A small stone cottage sits near the stream. It looks old. Abandoned. An air of neglect surrounds it.

  With my sides aching and my breathing heavy, I circle the small structure. It looks as though it's been here for hundreds of years. There's a thick wooden door and a window or two. I try peering through the thick glass but it's so clouded with dirt and grime that it's impossible to see what might be inside.

  Or who.

  Is it possible that he's hiding inside?

  And if he is, what exactly am I going to do about it?

  Continue screaming like the raving mad lunatic I'm slowly becoming?

  Some of the fight drains from me but I'm still not leaving without some answers. Whatever game this is, I'm tired of playing. I just want my sanity back. I want to know who this boy is and why there's such a weird connection between us.

  I stand in front of the wooden door. It's old, worn and dirty. I guess that's why my eyes are drawn to the knob because the handle is golden and shiny which is a strange contrast. So out of place. Why such a beautiful handle on an old abandoned cottage in the middle of the woods?

  And then I wonder- is it locked?

  Tentatively I place my hand on the knob, one by one my fingers slowly wrap around the shiny gold before squeezing it. Just as I’m about to turn and push the door open, a shiver spirals down my spine. A gust of wind suddenly whips around me as it blows through the clearing.

  If I open this door, everything will change.

  I know this as surely as if someone just whispered the words in my ear.

  And so I stop, my hand hovering over the handle as I consider what to do. But there isn't really a choice to be made.

  I have to open the door.

  I have to see who or what might be hiding inside the cottage.

  I can't leave these woods without some answers. Taking a deep breath, I slowly begin to turn the handle. It moves easily within my grasp and I realize that it's not locked. My heart thumps and races. As I push the door wider, it swings easily. A moment later I catch my first glimpse inside the cottage.

  Gasping, my mouth falls open in shock.

  Chapter Eight

  I expect an old scarred table and maybe some rickety chairs. Or a small kitchenette where someone could throw together a quick noon meal. There might even be a bed or couch along the far wall. A braided rug strewn in the middle of the room for warmth on a cold winter day. Or maybe it's nothing more than a caretaker's cottage and I'll find some tools and rakes leaning against the stone wall. But there's none of that inside. The most surprising thing is that there is no inside to the cottage at all. My breath hisses out from between my lips. I have to remind myself to breathe as I continue staring.

  Without thinking I step forward.

  I can't help myself.

  The door swings shut behind me but I barely register it. I can't tear my eyes away from my surroundings. I blink wondering if this can be real before rubbing my eyes with fisted hands because I can't believe what I'm seeing.

  I look down at my feet expecting to see old wooden plank flooring or maybe concrete. Instead I find lush green grass flourishing beneath them.

  It's the meadow.

  The same one from the bathroom mirror last night.

  I shake my head trying to clear it because this has to be some sort of surreal dream. Did I fall asleep while I was lying in the middle of the gravel path? Did I trip and hit my head? Maybe everything that happened with Shay and Callen is also part of the same weird dream. Oh, God, I can't tell what's real and what's not anymore.

  Maybe I really am losing my mind.

  But everything looks so unbelievably vivid.

  So lifelike.

  But somehow more so.

  Hesitantly I sweep my hand down to touch one of the colorful flowers nearest to me. At the last moment I pull back afraid of actually touching it. Staggering a few steps forward, I take in the meadow with wide disbelieving eyes. And just like last night in the bathroom mirror, everything is so bright and vivid. It's so much more than what I'm used to seeing. The intensity almost hurts my eyes with its breathtaking vibrancy. The multicolored flowers, the bright azure colored sky, the tall green blades of grass that bend and wave in the gentle breeze, it all pops with color and texture.

  Is it possible for the world to look more than three dimensional?

  Because strangely, it does.

  It's overwhelming.

  Dizzying.

  It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

  The heat of the sun kisses my bare arms and legs. The warm breeze gently strokes my face as it wafts over me. I smell the sweetly fragrant mixture of fresh flowers that grow in such hardy abundance in the brightly colored meadow. Glorious stalks of flowers shoot up from the ground. The colors are rich, bright and amazing. So much bigger than what I'm used to seeing. This whole place looks like an advertisement for Miracle Grow on steroids.

  How can any of this be real?

  It hurts my eyes.

  Shocks my senses.

  Steals my breath away.

  I rub my eyes with fisted hands again wondering if I'm having some sort of delusion. Is it possible that I've already lost my mind?

  I turn slightly and my breath catches. My eyes widen even more. Any moment they're going to fall right out of my head. In the distance, there's an enormous castle. I'm helpless to do anything other than stare in silent awe because it looks straight out of the medieval ages. Something I've read about in my history books. Except, well, this one appears to be made out of glass. It shimmers and sparkles as it soars into the impossibly azure colored sky.

  "I've really lost it, haven't I?" It suddenly occurs to me that if I turn to the right there'll be a stream in the distance... and I need to get there.

  Wait a minute… I'm supposed to be there already!

  I have to hurry.

  I rip my eyes from the castle which is difficult because it glitters and twinkles on the horizon like some kind of beautiful illusion that begs to be viewed up close. But for reasons I can't explain, I feel suddenly drawn towards the stream.

  Something is pulling me towards it. As I move through the meadow, a large dazzling butterfly floats by on a warm tantalizing breeze. It's huge with big purple iridescent wings that look lustrous to the touch. Normally I would be frightened of a flying insect this large but it's so completely stunning, that I want a closer look. I follow it for a few minutes meandering my way through the lush meadow before my attention becomes ensnared by a vibrantly colored humming bird fluttering by. Its emerald green wings move impossibly fast, so rapidly that it looks suspended in the air over a large purple flower. I'm utterly awed by the sight of it and can't help but stop and stare in amazement.

  When it finally flutters away I remind myself that I need to get to the stream.

  I just can't remember why. My brow furrows as I wrack my brain because I know it's important. It feels imperative that I get moving again.

  But still, I don't understand why. In my haste, I start to run. My feet trip over themselves and I stum
ble forward only wanting to reach the stream. My legs move faster. And then faster still. I can't move swiftly enough. I have to hurry. I don't think about the old cottage that isn't really a cottage or getting back to the forest so I can go home. I don't think about Shay or Callen or how they betrayed me. Or how much it hurts. I don't think about my parents. None of that matters anymore. In fact, the more minutes that slide by, the less important all that stuff becomes. What matters most is reaching the stream.

  But I can't remember why I need to hurry there. Sweat beads my brow as I run. I pump my legs, pushing them to go faster. I have to get there. I have to...

  Reach him.

  I have to reach him!

  That's when I catch my first glimpse.

  Everything within me screeches to an abrupt halt as I stare wide eyed. All at once my pace slows until I finally stop about twenty feet from where he sits. My breath catches in my throat. His back is to me. I think it's the boy from the woods! The one who was at the dance! My heart begins to pound almost painfully.

  He wouldn't tell me his name.

  I didn't know how to find him.

  But he's here.

  At the stream.

  How?

  Why?

  How did I know he would be here?

  And where exactly is here?

  He lays unmoving on a thick carpet of green grass that flanks both sides of the stream in the shade of a gnarled old oak tree. His elbows prop him up from behind. He seems completely at ease, fascinated by something on the other side of the stream. He doesn't seem to realize that I'm standing behind him which gives me the chance to study him. His legs are stretched out lazily in front of him, crossed at the ankles. The abundant waves of his rich mahogany colored hair curl around his head in a halo of soft waves. My fingers itch to run through the silky thickness of it.

  I glance down at my fingers wiggling them slowly in speculation because I feel as if I have done this many times before. But I don't understand how that can be. I feel as if I know him, yet I can't remember who he is. And if I really do know him, how could I have possibly forgotten him? My heart skips a beat as I continue staring, eating him up with my eyes.

  He doesn't acknowledge me but I have the sudden feeling that he's just as aware of my presence as I am of his. I think he's been waiting for me.

  My brows draw together as it occurs to me that I was supposed to meet him here by the old oak tree near the stream. But... when was this? I've never even been here before. I focus on him, trying to unearth anything else from my memory.

  His name... it's on the tip of my tongue.

  I know his name.

  How could I have forgotten it?

  His name...

  It's...

  Ryland.

  Happiness explodes throughout my entire being as relief washes through me. I taste his name on my lips. It's the most beautiful word in the world.

  "Ryland."

  I whisper his name so softly that I'm surprised when he turns to meet my gaze. His deep brown eyes arrow straight to mine and for a moment neither of us move. We're both frozen in time, in place. I can only drink in the sight of him all the while trying to commit every nuance of his face to memory. I wish I had my sketch pad because I never want to forget him again. He holds out his hand and without hesitation I race to him, closing the distance between us until there's nothing to separate us.

  Not ever again.

  As he takes my hand, I gasp as something feeling very much like electricity flows between us. And like in the woods behind my house, it's not painful or unpleasant. But this time it feels electrifying.

  Enlightening.

  Exhilarating.

  Illuminating.

  I can only liken it to a light switch being flicked on inside me. I gasp as the sensation floods through me. Everything within me is now bathed in a bright incandescent light where before there was only darkness, shadows, and nothingness. Memories I didn't even know I possessed flash brilliantly before my eyes of a different place, a different time, a time when we existed together. They feel so much a part of me that I can only wonder speechlessly how I didn't know of their existence before this very moment.

  My shocked eyes hold his and I see everything I'm feeling reflected back within his warm brown depths. The world as I know it seems to crash around me before rushing up to meet me. Helplessly I sink to my knees as memories of a different life wash over me, inundating my senses with a past life I never dared to imagine. Tears fill my eyes because this boy is so very important to me. At one time he was my life and to not remember him feels faithless of me. Gasping, I stare as the memories continue to take shape, merge and coalesce into what I now understand to be my past.

  A past from a different life in a different world.

  Suddenly I remember everything. I remember the love that never should have sparked to life between us and how it almost ruined the Faerie Realm. The blood drains from my face as I remember why we’re no longer together in one world.

  And that's when the sobs that have pooled silently in my chest as the fractured memories continue to slide into place finally break free from my aching lungs into the world I originally sprang from.

  This understanding is like a tidal wave that is trying to bury me beneath the sheer force of its will.

  Just when I think I cannot bear one more moment of this knowledge, he whispers with tears shimmering in his wide brown eyes, "I have waited so very long for you, Lilianna." His voice is scraped raw with emotion. With need. He pauses as if to collect himself before continuing, "I didn't know if I would ever find you again."

  I open my mouth, a million questions waiting to burst free, but there is no sound. Hot salty tears trek slowly down my face and all at once I am transported back to the beginning.

  To the beginning of the end.

  Oh, if only we had chosen differently, it would have all turned out just as it should have. We were supposed to choose duty over love. But we did not. Could not. His eyes cradle mine with a lifetime of adoration and I realize that I would do it all over again. If changing our destiny meant never loving as we have, I would not change a single moment of it.

  Part II

  Chapter Nine

  The Faerie Realm

  Hundreds of years ago

  Snagging my sister's delicate hand, I pull her towards her destiny. This is all so very exciting! A masquerade ball at the Faerie Queen's Crystal Palace. We have lived within the Faerie Realm for generations but this is the first time our family has been invited to the Crystal Palace. Invitations are stingily handed out. Reserved for those with far greater powers than we possess. But still, here we are. Now it is our turn to be the honored guests.

  "Are you nervous?" It is all I can do to keep my eager voice pitched to a hushed whisper. Even still, it echoes off the arched marble corridor we pass through.

  Shaylee’s wide gray eyes slide towards me before giving a stiff little nod. I can tell she is. She has been raised for this moment when the eyes of the Faerie Realm will be trained solely on her. My duty has been to prepare her for her destiny.

  I squeeze her hand, trying to reassure her with a calm steady voice. "You look beautiful. Absolutely Stunning! He will have no choice but to fall hopelessly in love with you." I grin knowing that it can be no other way. Shaylee is positively radiant. She is everything that is graceful and charming and winsome.

  It would be impossible not to love her.

  Much like the Crystal Palace itself, Shaylee is wrapped in a sparkling, shimmering swatch of iridescent silver and is bejeweled from head to toe. The gown was sent from the Faerie Queen herself. A special gift to her successor for tonight is the night she will be presented to both the Queen and her son, the Faerie Prince. I, too, will be presented this evening. My gown is equally lavish but that is all part of the game.

  Together we walk through the long echoing corridor which will eventually lead us to the ball. Everyone who is important to the realm is here to watch the presentation, to cat
ch just a fleeting glimpse of the future faerie queen. The Fey have been waiting for this night for as long as anyone can remember. When this nothing of a girl will marry the Faerie Prince and one day serve them as Queen of the Faeries. She will hold power over every living breathing creature within this land. Shaylee has been groomed from birth to rule. I was raised to be at her side, to ease her way, to make certain she has a confidante within the palace walls.

  The palace is so immense that we have etched little maps onto our palms so we can find our way around. We have been here for at least a fortnight so Shaylee could learn the ways of the court before the presentation. Not once have we caught a glimpse of the prince. It is strictly forbidden for the Faerie Prince to lay eyes on Shaylee until the presentation ceremony at the stroke of midnight.

  It is for this very reason that everyone in attendance tonight will wear a mask to shield their identity. It is only during the formal presentation that the Queen will remove Shaylee's mask while she is being presented to the Prince.

  Then they will share a dance as the newly betrothed Faerie Prince and future Queen.

  I sigh at how very romantic this night will be. I cannot help myself. I am overcome with excitement regarding this evening's festivities. My eyes must be dancing just as my slippered feet wish to do. Although, admittedly, I am a terrible dancer. A master dance instructor was requisitioned for both Shaylee and I since this is a very important skill to have knowledge of.

  Unfortunately my attempts to acquire the simplest of steps have fallen quite flat but I do not care. This is the most exciting night of our lives. Well, it will be the most exciting night of my life. I am quite certain that Shaylee will have many more nights where her breath is stolen away but this night is mine to savor.

  Just as we reach a set of golden double doors that stand taller than anything I have ever laid eyes upon, I reach for Shaylee's other hand so we two form a tightly bonded circle. I hold her glove covered hands as my eyes touch upon every detail of her costume. I want her to be absolutely stunning. I want the Faerie Prince to fall at her silvery slippered feet the moment he lays eyes upon her.

 

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