Taken

by Bolton, Karice

  Thankfully, the latest batch of characters seemed kind. As if I knew them from somewhere, although that wasn’t possible. I’m sure they must have made an appearance in my other dreams. I just don’t remember them. One stood out in particular. He was trying to save me, but it was too late. The black, soulless swirls got me. My nightmares never had gotten to that point before. Never did I know the conclusion to these nightmarish adventures before tonight.

  This time, I saw how it ended. I didn’t make it. It wasn’t a painful process. I didn’t feel tortured. It seemed like I should have felt the attack. I didn’t. What I was left with was horrible feelings of despair and loneliness wrapping their way through every aspect of my life. My soul felt like an empty cavern as I saw myself being blown away into the wind. I remember looking back at the strangers on the ground. They were looking up towards the sky at me as I left to wherever bodiless souls go. The one guy who was so memorable was staring back at me, tears streaming down his face. He was the one who tried to save me. He risked his own life against the monsters for me. He was only a minute too late. My heart now longed for him, this figment of my imagination. I didn’t know why.

  I couldn’t shake the images this time. They were too haunting, too real. And now I was going crazy believing that these things had some sort of significance. Lack of sleep was finally catching up with my fragile state of mind.

  CHAPTER 2

  The Grizzly Bear lodge was packed as usual for this time of night. I glanced around the restaurant as everyone was trickling in, partially undressing from their long day of romancing the powder. The pub was ideally situated at the base of Whistler Mountain, capitalizing on location rather than menu selection, but I enjoyed working here. It felt like home or as close to that as I could feel. I tried to shake off my long disastrous night of sleep while preparing for my shift. The images of my demise kept creeping into my thoughts. What was worse was that those images were virtually impossible. Yet, they plagued me tremendously, creating a pit in my stomach. I tried shaking the feelings of despair that kept trying to interfere with my ability to get back to my routine.

  Outside the snow was gently falling, and the night barely beginning. It was early in the season, and only the upper half of the mountain was open, but it was enough to kick off the ski season in Whistler. There were the usual suspects scattered around the pub; the guys in their twenties, who had been taking nips from their flasks all day on the mountain in between runs, attempting to quickly get their server’s attention for more beer. Then there were the tables with the wives and girlfriends done up all cute, eagerly awaiting their other halves. Their actions only highlighted the fact that they had spent the day at the spa not the slopes. And, of course, there were the locals chatting up the bartender and grabbing the latest news on the hockey game.

  This was the best part of my job, the people watching. Unfortunately, at times, it could be the worst part of my job. There were those days, and not all that few and far between, when it emphasized how alone I really was. As I puzzled over this fact, I quickly grabbed the next round of drinks from the bar and went to the corner table to deliver their long awaited goods. I was taking over the table from Karen who had to leave the pub rather quickly. It was unusual for her, and I hoped everything was ok. I made a mental note to give her a call when I got home.

  I scooted between the wooden chairs that were now being shuffled around the tables to make room for everyone coming into the pub. The restaurant was getting packed early tonight. The sound of the chairs scraping and clunking on the well-worn wood floors gave me warning that tonight was going to be a busy night. Exactly what I needed to keep my mind occupied.

  The antique snowshoes that were balancing so delicately on the wall snagged my ponytail as I tried to make my way through the tables, and thankfully, no one saw as I fought with the decorations. Once I became unsnarled from the thoughtfully placed décor, I made my way to the table waiting for me and more importantly, their drinks.

  “Harmless,” I whispered, as I approached the table Karen had left. I saw a man with dark golden hair gently nuzzling a woman’s neck with his nose. She was thoroughly enjoying his affection. It was as if they were literally one unit. It made me chuckle. I’m not sure exactly why - maybe it was because it was a bit like my bulldog’s reaction to me when I got home from work. Or maybe it was my standard reaction that would always appear when I longed for something I couldn’t have, or more appropriately, never have had - except in my dreams.

  Regardless, when I appeared with the drinks, they both looked up at me with the most staggering eyes. I was immediately jolted out of my doldrums. Their eyes were the most brilliant green that I’d ever seen, like an emerald. Their green eyes were filled with dark black centers, outlined with striking jets of yellow. It made my blood freeze. These two strangers were so familiar feeling. I almost gasped aloud but caught myself. My arms became weak, but I somehow managed to keep the tray steady. I stared in silence not sure what came over me as I tried to gain my composure. Instead, all that happened was that I couldn’t concentrate. I felt faint. I looked at both of them again and realized they both had the same look in their eyes, almost the same eyes. The shape was different, hers more of an almond shape. His deeper set, but nonetheless, the expression and color were the same. My heart started beating too fast for its own good, and I suddenly was alive, a feeling I hadn’t felt for a long time – if ever. I placed my hand over the rat’s nest in my hair that the snowshoe fiasco created, trying to smooth it down. Attempting anything to try to look somewhat presentable around these unusually perfect creatures.

  My fingertips were zinging with electricity as I grabbed the coasters and placed them in front of the couple. I tried to hide the smile that was coming across my face as I placed the napkins on the table. I caught at that moment that they, too, were taking me in. Strangely, they didn’t seem the least bit unnerved by my reaction to them. Maybe, I was doing a better job of hiding my emotions than I thought. I doubted that though.

  I was preparing to place the woman’s mulled cider in front of her when I noticed I had three drinks for the table, but only two people anxiously awaiting them. I nervously looked at the woman as I tried so very hard to speak, but nothing would come out. I grabbed the mug of hot, steaming mulled cider and tried to place it in front of her as carefully as possible without spilling. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t fathom what was taking place. I looked at this woman who was the most ethereal, enchanting person I had ever seen; that is besides the person sitting next to her. She was otherworldly. That wasn’t possible though. I was losing my mind. These nightmares finally caught up to me; lack of sleep now threatening my sanity. However, I couldn’t shrug off their familiarity, knowing I had never seen them here in Whistler before only left one option that didn’t seem plausible.

  Wonderful feelings were drifting over me, wrapping every part of my body in an almost loving embrace. I didn’t want to look away. I didn’t want to lose these feelings. Their stares were too mesmerizing to look away. I had to control myself. I didn’t want them to see my reaction any longer. This was way too bizarre. It had to be because of my lack of sleep.

  An eternity seemed to go by as I was drinking everything in about this couple, but in actuality, it was only a mere second. My life stood still. After I glided the Blue Sapphire martini to the man without a drop spilt, I quickly spun around and headed back to the safety of the bar register. Glancing quickly at them, I noticed they, too, were staring directly at me, smiling as if they knew something was about to take place. I couldn’t look at them anymore. I had to come back to reality. I cursed my dull brown hair as it kept falling in my face, blocking my view of them. I shoved my hair behind my ear so I could get one last peek at them.

  Once I came back to earth, I noticed that I had left the tray and the third drink on the table. Rather than go back to the table, I sprinted to the bathroom. Not knowing what was happening to me, I needed a moment to get myself back together. I swung open the
bathroom door only to have the wooden sleigh crash against the door with a loud thud, yet another piece of décor out to get me. Everything in the Grizzly was placed with such great intention, which usually comforted me, but now it all seemed to get in my way. I needed to get to the sink and figure things out. I hoped I wasn’t getting the flu. Maybe I had caught whatever it was that made Karen go home for the night. Any sort of bug compounded with the lack of sleep that I had been getting was a recipe for a disastrous event such as this one.

  As I splashed water feverishly over my face, I couldn’t stop thinking about the two people I encountered. What was it about them that made me feel this way and yearn for them? It was a euphoric sense that flooded over me. As I stood and looked in the mirror, I saw my reflection. I wished I hadn’t splashed all my makeup off, especially since I would be serving them for the rest of the night, the golden gods. Compared to the woman sitting at the table, I looked like a disheveled rat to match my hair. My store bought brown hair looked especially lousy at a time like this. It made me wish I kept my natural auburn color.

  I stared at my eyes reflecting in the mirror hoping to repair the mascara that dribbled down my cheek. Realizing there was no hope, I wiped it off completely. I looked at myself again, wondering if the dark brown eyes staring back at me would ever have light in them instead of the blank stare that usually surfaced. Not remembering much of my childhood, except for the memories that were told to me, always made me feel so alone, no siblings, no parents – only newspaper clippings. That is what I always blamed my lackluster expression on. Not feeling life became my comfort. When too much interaction began, that was my cue to exit the situation or leave the people behind, that’s how I came to Whistler.

  I heard laughing behind me and turned to see two bubbly ski bunnies bundled in cashmere coming through the door, obviously enjoying the evening. I tried not roll my eyes and just flashed them a smile. I grabbed the paper towel dangling for me, did one last wipe of my cheeks and left the restroom.

  The pub was really hustling now. I could hear the clanking of beer mugs and the chatter an octave higher. Buckets of beer, the nightly special, were parading from one table to the next like a revolving door. The lighting went down a shade, and the stone fireplace began roaring in the far corner right on time. I saw the newest group sitting in my section and quickly went over to take their drink order. As I heard the drink orders rattled off, I cautiously glanced at the couple I had left so feverishly and noticed Jen, another server on for the night, had graciously removed the tray and placed the third drink on a coaster in front of the empty chair. There was still no one sitting there. I was secretly relieved. I didn’t need another perfect human adding to the complexity of the emotions running through me. I somehow knew I wasn’t coming down with the flu. There was something about these people that lured me in.

  “Miss,” I heard pointedly, “can we add a starter of poutine to our order?”

  “Of course! I’ll put that right in.” My smile returning to my face, I took a deep breath and continued on with my busy night. I was happy I had a full section tonight. I was certainly a creature of habit.

  I was entering the poutine into the computer, when a wave of ice-cold, electrifying air penetrated me right through to my core. It was as if my bones would shatter with the slightest movement. I looked over at the front entrance expecting it to be open, but it wasn’t. I quickly looked around to gauge anyone else’s reaction, knowing I couldn’t trust my own with my sleep deprivation. Then, right before me, I saw the third person sitting at my favorite table. He had arrived. It was from him that I was feeling the electricity. They were looking at me again, all except the newcomer. It was as if they were evaluating me, my reaction. Silly as it seemed, that’s what they had to be doing. But for what reason?

  From behind, I could tell that he was really well-dressed. He was very firm, very upright, very oddly upright. He sat so still, almost like a statue. It struck me kind of funny, but in a good way. He, too, had golden brown hair. His looked a little less perfect, a little more disheveled, than his friends or relatives or whoever was with him at the table. I liked it. There was a bedraggled, rugged look about him - perfectly so. If he looked half as good as he did from the back, I couldn’t wait to see him from the front. If only I could compose myself. Not that I had a shot, but at least, I could admire.

  Promising myself that I wouldn’t again lose my cool, I let the excitement ripple through me at the thought of getting to meet him. I knew what I was feeling was in my head. There was no way other people could make you feel this way.

  I spun around and quickly marched to the bar. As I waited for the next order to come up, I excitedly embraced this new feeling of energy and exhilaration that was finally beginning to creep up on me.

  “Hey, Ana,” the bartender spoke, interrupting my thoughts, “Order’s up.”

  “Thanks, Ben.” I quickly grabbed the gravy and cheese covered fries, otherwise known as poutine, and trudged over to the table to drop it off so I could get over to the newcomer.

  “Is there anything else you need or are you all set?” I asked, unable to hide my grin. They nodded their heads and off I went.

  Finally, I was about to arrive at the table of life. The euphoria was beginning to set in as I saw a glow radiating from the table. Prismatic colors were dancing off the walls around them. Recognizing another side effect of my sleep deprivation, hallucinations, I just moved towards them. I had to meet the newcomer. It was like a magnet was pulling me over to him. I was certain that the others at his table noticed, but I didn’t even care now. I went to the bar, grabbed some silverware as an excuse, and walked to the table of the night.

  “Is there anything else I can get right now for you guys or are you doing ok?”

  When the newcomer looked up at me for the first time, my heart began racing. He had the same hypnotizing eyes as the others. Only that was merely the beginning. His skin was an exquisite shade of ivory, showing slightly that he had missed a day of shaving. His features were so striking that they almost matched his startling eyes, which were outlined with such thick lashes that it made his green eyes stand out even more than the other two at the table. He was looking at me with such kindness and had a familiarity about him that I couldn’t place. Secretly wondering if he could have been in one of my dreams, I did my best to keep the foolishness at bay that kept creeping in at such a preposterous notion. I wanted to clear the room and sit in front of him and do nothing but literally stare at the exquisite being in front of me.

  I glanced at the couple to get my mind elsewhere only that didn’t work out so well. I still felt the charge. However, this time I was certain it was coming directly from him. He continued to gaze at me when suddenly I realized that he was talking. His lips were moving, but I had no idea what he was saying. His voice was the most soothing and comforting sound, like a song. I had to get control of myself.

  “I’m so sorry,” I spoke from an unknown strength from within, “I need you to repeat what you said.”

  I could feel myself start to blush and went with it. I obviously couldn’t be in control of myself around these people and gave up. It’s not like I would see them again. Plus, I wasn’t known for being the most eloquent anyway.

  “Hey, no sweat. We were hoping for a pitcher of Whistler Ale and three glasses.” He smiled at me as if he were half relieved, almost as if he were in on a secret I wasn’t privy to. I did my best to try to place him from either one of my dreams or possibly around Whistler but fell flat. I was also mostly certain that I recognized a bit of excitement in his voice, but that didn’t make any sense either. Beer wasn’t that exciting, and I surely wasn’t either. It must have to do with whatever they were speaking about before I arrived at their table, just an interrupted conversation I wandered into.

  “Sounds good. I’ll bring those right out.” I spun around and went to the bar, excited by this new communication and secretly hoping that they would be at the restaurant all night.

&nbs
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