by Jamie Magee
I literally could feel the ‘scarlet letter’ burning on my chest. I could feel the blame and shame that would come my way. Powerful imaginations have their curses, this is one of them—creating and living inside of a hell in the time span of one second. I was so engrossed in how twisted things could get that I had no idea how badly I was overreacting, or if I was dead on with my fears.
Clarissa knocked on the door as she opened it. Knocking was new. Walking into your families house unannounced normal here. I never told Landen that I wasn’t a fan of the custom. I think he just noticed how I never really relaxed, or that Olivia, Dane, and my parents’ knock. Now they all knock—as they open the door. Small wins.
Clarissa looked up at me the same way she always did, like I was a living mystery. Her gifted brothers soul mate, the only source that made him pause and think through his steps before he took them. She told me a hundred times I didn’t know the Landen they did. I’d changed him. I gave him something to lose. A reason to pay attention to the lessons his grandfather August had been teaching him since birth.
I didn’t know what to say or which expression to plaster on my face, so I kept to my path, one leading me to the sanctuary of my studio.
Two of the walls in my studio were all windows, large doorways led to the second story porch. Blank canvases lined the white walls. Even though I had an array of paints waiting for me on the workbench, I’d only sketched. Each sketch was dark and painful, something I created only so I could destroy it. It was an exercise that was helping, even if Dane swore it seemed destructive.
I stood in the path of the breeze coming in from the open doors, and drew in one deep breath after another as I stared at the fields highlighted by the aging sun.
“Where did you find it?” I asked under my breath when I sensed Clarissa and Olivia looming in the threshold.
I hated it when people looked at me like I was a bomb ready to go off.
Clarissa took a few steps forward. “Mostly your room was destroyed in the fire, water hurt the lower levels and roof, but there was a lot to salvage. I’ve been sending emails for you parents from Europe to the people they have restoring it, then showing up to gather things your mom has asked for.”
“Where in the house?” I asked. I knew every inch of my home. I was fascinated with the heirlooms and the stories they had. Not just my house but also all the historical ones.
“It was in a box that was packed for me. I only saw it because I dropped it and it was one of the things that fell out.”
“Did Dane see it? Any of my friends?” I asked.
Dane went with Clarissa on her trips, Olivia didn’t like the trip or being back in a town where she had haunting memories of parents. She went on this last one to check on our friends who were still shaken up by Monica’s death.
“Just me and Olivia,” Clarissa said.
I glanced back when I felt her intent to protect me swell. The light of the room was hitting her pale green eyes making them seem all the more mysterious. Her short dark hair had new layers, the cut along with her ‘I’m with the band’ shirt, announced what dimension she’d been in. Dane told me after their last trip that he saw more of our home in Clarissa than Chara. I wanted to believe it, not because I favored one over the other, but because I needed all the people I could gather to understand what my perspective was like.
“And what do you think of it?” I asked Clarissa.
She tilted her head. “I think it could mess with your head if you let it.”
“That’s all? No lore I need to know? Is this a mystical sign? An omen?”
“It’s what you make it,” she said chucking her chin up. “I don’t know where that photo came from. But I know what Photoshop is. I know that illusion is a powerful magic. I brought this back so you would know.”
“Me and who else?” I asked glancing to Olivia who was leaning in the doorway.
“That’s up to you,” Clarissa said.
“Is it?” There was a tad bit too much sarcasm in my tone. It was my defense. I couldn’t help it.
“Do you think I’d want to hurt Chrispin?” Olivia asked. “You don’t throw fire on a fire to put it out. Chrispin needs to look forward, not find more blame.” She bit her lip. “But if you plan on saying somethin’, I want a heads up. I want to tell him.”
Chrispin had lost his father, Livingston, by Drake’s hand. The salt in the wound was when we all learned that Drake was one of Livingston’s sons, binding Drake by blood to Landen’s family.
“What would I say? Hey guess what—I cheated, Drake was telling the truth?” Disdain morphed in my expression.
“Did you snatch a new insight I don’t know about?” Clarissa asked as she canted her head, not completely doubting that I hadn’t. I narrowed my stare on her in question. “Did you see yourself cheat? Did you leave Landen’s soul for the sake of Drake’s a few centuries back?”
I didn’t answer her. It was a stupid question.
“Even if you did,” Clarissa said. “That’s your business. Your karma.”
I nodded toward her. “And if it breaks your fairytale? What if your precious first couple has skeletons in their closet? ”
“It proves it,” she countered with a raised brow as she stepped forward. “There are all kinds of soul mates. Love isn’t perfect. It’s perfectly messy. It has the right to be flawed. The young gods who made this world knew so. We’re on a journey to enlightenment. Every life is meant to be different.” She eyed me up and down. “You have billions of skeletons in your closet. So does Landen. What matters now is how you deal with it. Are you going to make the same mistakes of your past or learn from them?”
“I don’t know what mistakes I made,” I said with quiver in my voice.
“Inside you do,” Clarissa said quietly. “You’re the only one who has the power to call any action you make a mistake.”
“I’m doing my best,” I swore.
“That’s all you can do,” Clarissa glanced to the photo. “Fake or real, you have to be ready for things like this. You have to know who you are today. Yesterday was a thread in the tapestry that is still being woven by the Creator.”
Olivia reached for the photo; once I gave it to her she tore it into pieces and shoved it in her pocket. “I brought some stuff from my house, too. There are some photos of Monica. Do you want any?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly feeling better but not cured from my last mental hiccup.
Downstairs, through the window I could see the guys still playing a demanding game of touch football. Olivia opened the box she had brought with her then handed me a photo of Monica and me at the lake last summer. She was so full of life then. Olivia laid out a few other photos from our senior year, then walked over and hugged me. “I have to go. I promised your mom I would drop these boxes by before dinner,” she said.
“Wait, I’ll help you,” Clarissa said. Before she left, she looked at me, “Willow, really, forget the past. Don’t let it hurt your present.”
As they left I slid further down into the chair I was standing in front of.
The walls seemed to close in around me.
I needed to get away.
I abruptly sat up in my seat and pushed back from the table, then went to the hall closet and pulled out Landen and my travel bags, which carried four changes of clothes and currency for different dimensions. I was setting them by the front door when I felt Landen walking in the back door. I glanced down the hall and saw him hesitating at the table as he looked over the photos. His remorse highlighted his relaxed vibe as he saw Monica’s face. He glanced my way before he started to come closer, tossing the football casually from hand to hand. His intense blue eyes landed on the travel bags at my feet. I knew he could feel my intent to run. Seeing how certain my resolve was he tucked the ball under his arm. He forced a calm smile, bringing his perfect dimples to life.
“Are we going somewhere?” he asked playfully.
I broke eye contact knowing that if I looked into his eyes lon
g enough his calm would hit home. I’d convince myself I was overreacting.
I wanted to run.
To run away with him.
“I don’t care where. I just need to get away. Me and you.”
He stepped closer and leaned his forehead to mine. He carefully reached for my wrist and traced my Ankh tattoo—avoiding the brand of the star. We had not been anywhere alone since we had learned that this star was a marker placed on me by Drake. Chara was the only dimension I was safe.
“Landen, we don’t even know if he’s alive. We can’t be prisoners here,” I pleaded as tears came to the corners of my eyes.
He let my hand fall then reached for my face and wiped away the tears before they had a chance to escape.
“I would hardly call this a prison,” he whispered, trying to make me smile.
“You know what I mean,” I said, trying to remain serious.
Landen tilted his head toward the phone in the kitchen. “Can I at least call someone and tell them that we’re leaving so they don’t think we’ve been kidnapped by scary monkeys?” he asked light-heartedly.
I held up one finger. We would be here all night if he called everyone in our family and all of them would either tell us not to go or find a way to follow us. He smiled then walked to the phone. I ran upstairs to close the balcony doors and all the windows. When I came back downstairs Landen was closing up the last window. When he saw me, he walked over to the bags, picked them up, and opened the door.
“How long do we have before the Calvary comes?” I asked.
“Not long,” he said with a wink.
I grinned then took off in a sprint. We raced through the field of flowers to the large windmill that led to an opening in the string. Breathless, I stepped in. As the hum of energy pushed through me I felt renewed. The white light gently lined in colors was so beautiful to me. When I was in the string I felt like I melted into the energy of the universe.
Landen took my hand and began to lead us away from Chara.
“So who did you call?” I thought.
“Brady. Just so you know, I had to promise him we’d be home the day the baby is due,” he thought.
I immediately felt guilty. I’d promised Felicity that I’d help her. That I would calm her through the pain.
Landen wrapped his arm around me. “They think we deserve the time alone, too,” he thought.
I leaned into him so thankful that he was real, that I had found him. He was worth any mental battle I have to deal with. Worth the physical ones, too.
A few feet later he stopped at a bright yellow light. We then stepped through, out onto the summit of a large mountain. Behind us a home was built into the peak. It was made of a deep red wood. The entire front of the house was glass, which mirrored the sunset back at us as we looked into it.
“I think this will do for tonight,” Landen said, guiding me up the stone steps. He moved a piece of wood from the front steps, reached in, and retrieved a key. “Wait here. I need to go turn on the generator,” he said, setting the bags down on the steps.
I watched him walk around the side of the house, then slowly sat down and gazed at the last moments of the sunset. Behind me, lights came on and shined through the glass front of the house. Landen then casually walked around the house.
“Who does this house belong to?” I asked him when he got closer.
“All of us. When we take people to different dimensions it’s just easier to have a place that you can call home while you teach them,” Landen said, picking up our bags, climbing the stairs, and unlocking the front door.
“I bet Clarissa has some clothes in here that would fit you,” he said with a bit of a laugh.
“I have clothes,” I protested.
“Yeah, but if we leave here and go into town you’re going to have to wear clothes that match this dimension,” Landen said, raising his brow.
“And what might they be here?”
“They only wear yellow. They see the sun as a god and honor him by wearing only a very bright yellow,” he explained, holding his hand out for me to go in.
The house was beautiful, wide open. The ceiling arched into a frame, the living room had over-sized leather couches centering it, a fireplace was in the center of the couches, and there was a bar that separated the living room and the kitchen. I walked slowly to the couch and collapsed. It was so soft, framing me as I rested there. I heard Landen going through the kitchen looking in all the cabinets. I knew he was looking for food.
“I’m not hungry,” I thought.
I closed my eyes and saw the photo of Drake and me again. I debated on just telling Landen. The last thing I wanted to do was stir up a conflict that had barely rested. Neither of us understood why we, of all people, were tossed into a conflict that began over four million years ago. It didn’t matter that we supposedly chose this or that we were the ones who lived four million years ago.
I ultimately decided that I’d be protecting Landen from unnecessary pain if I just forgot, like Olivia had told me.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry? Marc was just here. The entire house is stocked,” Landen said as he made himself a bowl of cereal.
I turned my head from side to side against the couch. Marc had traveled relentlessly since the day we laid his father, Livingston, in the ground. He used the excuse that Landen needed to spend time with me, and people still needed to find their soul mates. Landen and I knew it was his way to grieve.
My father had started to travel again, too. It was easy to see that he loved it more than he ever loved being a doctor in Franklin.
I moved my legs to the couch and stretched out and closed my eyes. A few moments later I felt Landen crawl next to me.
“Wait for me,” he thought. I sleepily opened my eye to see that he had turned off the lights and was covering us with a blanket. As I felt him nestle against me I let my heavy eyelids fall.
When my eyes opened I realized that I didn’t focus on anywhere the way Landen and I always did as we fell asleep. It was our way of assuring ourselves that we’d be in the same place.
I was standing in the center of a gray street with gray buildings. I took in a deep breath realizing that this was Esterious. The weight that was always on my chest when I came here in my nightmares was absent. I could feel almost everyone around me, whereas in the past I could only feel the one that had called me here and after that I would always face Drake. Panic seized me. I could hear my heart thundering.
Landen placed his hands on my shoulders destroying the majority of my freak out. I turned to look up at him. He was taken off guard too.
“Are you in pain? Is this a nightmare?” Landen thought.
I swayed my head no. “I can feel all of them,” I thought, watching the people in long black coats go about their mundane day. Their faces were as solemn as they felt.
“I can, too.”
At that moment, a small child was walking at her mother’s side down the street. Landen was in their path, but before he could move, the little girl passed through him. A tantalizing rush soared through the two of us. I could feel his emotion intensify. For a moment, he was just as sad as the little girl. After she passed through him, shock came over him, yet the little girl was filled with peace and love.
Landen’s eyes widened, then he hastily ushered me out of the street. There was a small opening between the buildings we slid inside it and gazed out at the passing people.
“How did you do that?” I thought.
“Me? How did she do that?”
A man leaned against the wall next to us. Landen glanced at me, then cautiously raised his hand and placed it on the man’s shoulder. He was solid. I felt Landen give the man the same peace he had unknowingly given the girl. A rush came through us again. The man stood up straighter. You could tell he wanted to smile, but he hid it as others walked by.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Landen thought.
“I think we should help them all,” I thought, looking at the river
of people walking by.
“Willow, we have to be careful. They’re not supposed to smile or act different. I don’t want them to be executed because we made them feel better. I don’t even know where we are in Esterious.”
I nodded, smiling at the chance to help more than one person.
Landen and I took each other’s hand and stepped out of the alley. As the people walked by, we touched them lightly. With each touch the rush we felt intensified. It was mind numbing, blissful. The emotions around us shifted immediately to peace. At the end of the street we stopped and looked back. The people were glancing at each other curiously. Some of them were whispering to one another as they looked back to where we had walked. This was the first time I really appreciated my gift of emotion.
Two men with hoods—whom I could not feel—walked out of the gray building we were standing next to. Landen pulled me back before they could pass through me. The people on the street noticed them immediately. Fear came through them all. Only a few of them were strong enough to hold on to the peace we had given them. We leaned against the wall and watched as the dark men walked through the center of the street.
Once we were sure that none of the people were in danger, we looked at each other and nodded.
We opened our eyes. Daylight was peering in through the front of the house. Landen sat up and rubbed his face, trying to wake up. I pulled myself up slowly.
Landen stared into nothing. “I feel trapped,” he breathed. “What is the purpose of giving them any peace if they lose it as soon as one of the priests comes around?”
“Maybe we’re supposed to find the strong ones. Help them so they can help the others,” I offered, urging him to lie back down.
He refused to comply. Instead, he moved his from head side to side as he stared into the thin air. He was clearly arguing with himself, or at least an idea he had.
“August tried to help a man in Esterious. The man and his family plotted underground to cause people to rise together against the priests, against Donalt. Someone betrayed them…they lost their lives. They left behind two young girls. August has never forgiven himself for encouraging the man.”
