Forgotten

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Forgotten Page 8

by Sarah J. Pepper


  “What exactly do you think we are?” I demanded, changing the subject. I crossed my arms, making it clear I was not going to play a sick game of keep-away. “You act like you’re not human.”

  Without actually touching me, he reached around me and slipped my phone into my back pocket. His perseverance unnerved me, scrutinizing my every move like a twisted guardian angel. He waited patiently for me to join him. Like he knew my defiance would crumble under his intense gaze. Standing so close to Jace without actually touching him, made me want to crumble into his arms, but I wouldn’t do it – no matter how inviting.

  “I’ve been called worse,” he said and left me standing in the empty classroom wondering how the conversation had become too warped for any sensible person to follow. Steadying myself with the desk beside me, I willed my heart to slow. We had chemistry – that was for sure. I just didn’t know if I wanted to kill Jace, more than I wanted to kiss him.

  ***

  The tantalizing smell of taverns made from yesterday’s spaghetti sauce was the lunch special. I scanned the assortment of dark shadows until I spotted Bree sitting in our usual table in the far corner. Ryker was nowhere to be seen, so I took it as a hopeful sign he developed malaria or some other disease and had to drop out of school. I’d even settle for mono, because then I’d be rid of him for a couple weeks.

  “I got you some grub,” Bree said, pushing a tray of steaming food toward me.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” I asked.

  “He went off campus with the team to grab a slice of pepperoni pizza. Apparently, this slop isn’t edible for football players. Side note, Ryker’s having a few people over tomorrow night. Want in?”

  “I’m busy,” I mumbled. “Got a new arrival; her name’s Elsie. Shy little thing, she bunkered down in the bedroom next to mine as quickly as possible and probably hasn’t left since. I’m thinking about coaxing her out of her room with some ice-cream.”

  Bree sighed.

  She set her cell down to reach for my hand which I placed in my lap before she could give me the pity-pat. “You know you don’t have to be best friends with everyone who lives under that roof, right? Winnie, I’m not trying to be mean, but you get –”

  “Attached.” I tried not to grit my teeth. “I’m aware.”

  “I’m not saying it’s a bad –”

  “When you get a minute, can you check this to make sure it’s okay?” I interrupted as I dug my cell out of my pocket. I did not want to have this conversation with her again, not ever.

  “Anything in particular you want me to scout?” she asked, when I handed it to her. Our hands grazed each other in the hand off. “Jeez Winnie, you’re freezing.”

  I rubbed my hands together and frowned. When I realized they were chilled, my body instantly froze. I dismissed it as a dehydration symptom from sweating through my clothes. “Just let me know if it’s set to Spanish, if any strange texts were sent out, or anything else odd.”

  It didn’t take her more than ten seconds to discover a new contact I hadn’t added. “When did you score his digits?!”

  I groaned. “Just delete it.”

  “Delete scar-face’s number?” she demanded in the exact tone she would have if I asked her to saw off my leg. “Are you insane?”

  “Scar face?”

  “Yeah, Mr. Right has this thin scar under his left eye; Jace is totally dark and secretive about it,” Bree said, distantly, like she was picturing Jace beating up a gang of ninjas that robbed a bank on Valentine’s Day. “FYI, you look like you just showered in your own sweat, and you’re freezing, Winnie. I wasn’t going to say anything after class because I got the impression Jace was waiting for you since he was standing just outside the classroom, but I’m not dense. What’s going on?”

  “I’m trying a new look,” I said dismissively and yanked the ponytail holder off my wrist to fix my hair. “Since when did you start passing notes to Jace – forget about your own boyfriend?”

  “Jealous much?”

  “Curious,” I corrected as I finished twisting my hair up. Figuring she’d fix it if it didn’t look better, I left it.

  “I’ve got seventh-period gym with him. You should see how his shorts cling to his–”

  “And now Lit,” I interrupted. “You’re the one with a stalker.”

  “And now I’ve got his number,” Bree said cheerfully as she pulled out her phone to transfer the contact info. “Though I’m pretty sure the dibs effect isn’t going to work, especially since Ryker and I are just fine – thanks for asking BTW. I know you’re totally pulling a ‘mom’ on my relationship with Ryker. We not ready to go steady; we both just want a casual relationship so you can stop with the eye rolls anytime. I can talk to other guys without getting the fifth degree from you.”

  “Duly noted,” I said and purposely rolled my eyes.

  “Jace is totally into you even though you are being a complete cretin,” Bree said like she was warning me that I wasn’t going to get valedictorian if I didn’t change my attitude or my opinion about guys in general.

  “I do attract psychos,” I mumbled, pushing the baked beans with my fork. The cold lumps had the same texture of dried cat vomit on my tongue. After forcing it down with a swig of milk, I attempted the main course. Not horrible. The hint of garlic actually complimented the barbeque flavor that the cooks added to the tavern.

  “Besides, rumors have it that Jace is totally loaded. He got this huge inheritance after his folks died,” Bree said after taking a bit of her lunch. “You wouldn’t have to clean the gym for extra cash if you were Jace’s girl and you wouldn’t have to worry about parental-surveillance at his place. I’d give anything to be able to hang out at the house without my mom and dad hovering over me.”

  I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t interested in dating anyone, and I certainly wasn’t interested in making my debut as a gold-digger.

  “What was on the note he passed to you in fourth?”

  “He wanted to know your number, address, social security number, birthday –”

  “What!” I said, chocking down my food.

  “Chill-ax Winnie,” she laughed. “Okay, the birthday was on there. He could’ve gotten your number when he had your phone, which he probably did, which I will admit is a little amazing,” she said when I was going to cut her off and say it was alarming.

  “What else?”

  “Okay, don’t be mad, because I didn’t rat you out, but there were a few question about your family and, you know, how they died and what I knew about that happened that night.”

  My insides went cold. “And?”

  “I informed him that he could read about in the newspaper if he wanted to know,” Bree said. “I wasn’t going to volunteer the information.”

  ***

  Mrs. Briggs could have twirled around naked, and I wouldn’t have noticed, since I grabbed a sick note from the nurse and left for home because of a ‘migraine’ after lunch. I must have looked like a mess because the nurse couldn’t write the excusal form fast enough after I stated my request. I knew I would have a couple hours alone in the house before the Thompsons returned and planned on indulging on some much needed alone time. If Ashwick was good for anything, it was hiding away from the rest of the world.

  After walking out of the school building, I was immediately slammed by the unmistakable urge to rip off my fingernails so I wouldn’t be tempted to peel the skin off my body. It would’ve hurt less than what Jace was doing to me. Staggering to the rail, my throat tightened, and I struggled to suck in air. My sight blurred. My lungs burned, and I couldn’t breathe. Out of everything that he could do to me, cutting off my air left me completely helpless. I couldn’t even scream out for help.

  I took one step at a time down the twenty-two steps our school had built simply to make the building look more imposing. I kept my grip on the railing and the other on Stella until the urge to beat my head against the sidewalk lessened. Jace leaned against a large object. It looked like a car from the
general location and size. I usually couldn’t see details in clothing or other characteristics, but his outline was becoming more precise in my sight. How or why – I had no idea.

  I closed my eyes. Judging from the smoky outline, I assumed he was wearing a form fitting jacket, made most likely of some sort of leather. His pants hugged his legs in a way that made me glad my eyes were closed so he couldn’t see me gawking. I could tell his hair was a few inches long. I tried to focus to get a better image but the harder I tried, the more blurred the image became.

  From the gigantic shape of his eyes, I assumed he wore dark sunglasses to hide his own observations about me until he made a rookie mistake of keeping his intentions unknown. He glanced down at his arm. Following his gaze, a thin gray line laced his wrist. He was timing me!

  “This is getting old.” I said when I reached the curb.

  “You have no idea,” Jace said without bothering to hide his exasperation. “Are you ever going to tell me why you look at us with your eyes closed?”

  “Move,” I demanded, when he positioned himself in front of me, herding me toward his car.

  “Skipping school, and you won’t even let me help you as a partner in crime?” Jace teased, crossing his arms. “Come on, I’m sure we could find something to do.”

  I raised an eyebrow and then said, “I’m not interested in finding ways to fend off boredom together, or being your girlfriend.”

  “I’m not interested in a girl,” he chuckled and plucked Stella from me only to hold it behind his head. He draped his arms over the ends. I would have looked like a medieval criminal locked in a pillory, but Jace somehow made it appealing. “It’s incredibly inviting when you look up at and pout like you want me to do something about it.”

  Gritting my teeth, I opened my eyes and stared defiantly into his blazing white, excruciatingly attractive silhouette. I never stared at the sun before, but gazing upon Jace had to be similar. That was the moment I knew I might as well check into a mental facility. I was considering his white abyss to be appealing.

  “You have a sick opinion of beauty,” I said, and wiped the sweat off my mouth with the collar of my shirt.

  “You’ll always smell like the ocean to me,” he said, discounting my body odor. The tone in his voice sounded more professional. “Your tolerance has significantly improved and you seem more aware of your surroundings.”

  “Fantastic,” I muttered sarcastically and thrust my right hand into his stomach. I envisioned Jace being remotely surprised, perhaps enough to drop my walking stick. He didn’t even flinch. To top it off, my fist was met with hard, solid muscle. My knuckles cracked.

  “Ryker wasn’t kidding. You’ve got a little fight in you,

  which I must admit does appeal to me.”

  He walked around to the driver side of his car. Swinging my walking stick off his neck, he opened his car door and tapped the top of the roof like he was contemplating on extending an invitation.

  “I’m not catching a ride with you.”

  “Pity,” he said and slid into his seat.

  “What about Stella?” I called out. “That’s like taking a wheelchair from a cripple!”

  “Stella?”

  “My walking stick,” I said stiffly, daring him to make fun of the nickname Bree had given my cane.

  “You don’t need it,” he said and started the engine. It purred like a kitten. I almost wanted to get in. “I’ll give it back if you admit that you’re attracted to me.”

  “Fat chance in hell,” I said and turned away from him and started walking to my house. Jace drove off in the opposite direction. The tension that presented whenever he was near never returned as I edged my way forward, but I knew he wouldn’t just leave me alone. I guessed that he was measuring my ability to function without aid. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the creeper wanted to know where I lived.

  …Perhaps he was one of the two white figures I saw in the living room window last night. Recalling the general size and shape of the two people watching me from the living room window, I walked into a street lamp. A high-pitched crack echoed in the abandoned street. The pole’s metal, vibrated under my fingertips, complimenting the sound ringing in my ears when a vision jarred me.

  Soft green grass tickled my legs as the wind stole seeds from the cottonwood tree canopy above. A small dagger, frosted with ice, glistened in the sunlight. A young girl, no older than twelve or thirteen, with auburn hair glowered over me and tapped her fingernail against the blade, creating a soft crack. She made no attempt to speak as she grabbed my hand, slicing my palm. The cold blade pierced my skin, chilling me to the bone as it vibrated against my flesh. Deep crimson flowed from my cut.

  Another beautiful woman sauntered in a circle around me. Her pure white dress rippled slightly in the breeze. She was a few years older, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, but looked like a fallen angel. Her light blond hair skimmed the top of her waistline as it shimmered in the sunlight just like the frost on the dagger. Her angelic laugh rang out in the meadow as she watched me bleed. Her sun-kissed cheeks glowed as she smiled. It was a political gesture, nothing more. The contempt leaked from her golden-colored eyes as they flashed dark black.

  “You seek for humans’ immortality to end.” My voice hung in the air like her laugh. “Playing with fate has consequences not even my sister can always foresee.”

  “Do it.” Her beautiful voice was laced with hate.

  The hatred burning in the fallen angel’s eyes ripped at my soul. Yet, I agreed to her request. “Then you condemn the Fates.”

  Clinging to the street lamp, I willed my heartbeat to slow. This vision hurt my very soul, like it had just stolen years from my life. The young woman wanted something horrible from me, and I agreed to it. One day I would make a pact with the devil, who looked like an angel– but why? Tears ran down my cheeks. My chest felt like it was tightening around my heart; yet, I didn’t understand why it hurt so badly. What events led up to this?

  It wasn’t long before I collapsed to the sidewalk, sobbing. The cement scraped my hands when I fell, but I didn’t have enough energy to care. It felt all too similar to the gash that would eventually be sliced over my palm from an icy dagger – an icy dagger during the springtime. What did that mean? What kind of a person was I to become? I hated these visions! When I finally calmed myself enough to stand, I made it the rest of my way home. It was the longest few blocks of my life. I wanted nothing more than to forget these images that bombarded my mind but a persistent question echoed in my mind. In the vision, I’d said that the Fates were condemned. Was I talking about someone’s destiny, a person, or a group of people? Even though I wasn’t sure, I wrapped my arms around me and prayed for their souls.

  Using my mind’s map, I focused on not running into another street light or traffic sign rather than analyzing the vision that encased my heart with ice. Max barked cheerfully as I got closer to our yard. Walking up the driveway I nearly tripped on a long, thin object. Stella. How did Jace know where I lived? Perhaps I should be asking questions like, why wouldn’t he know where I lived? Not bothering to unfold it, I walked up the front steps. I knew how many paces it was anyway. I nearly tripped over a scared, little girl when I walked up the stairs to the front door. Her soft crying should have been a dead giveaway, but my mind was otherwise preoccupied.

  “Elsie, is that you?”

  More tears.

  I sighed, but couldn’t convince myself to walk away and let her be. A runaway would flee till they felt safe – I knew from personal experience. Since she’d returned to the Thompsons, I assumed that she used to live too far away to walk.

  “Scoot over, sweetie,” I spoke softly not to startle her. “I’ve had a bad day too.”

  She sniffled a few times but moved a few inches. Plopping down next to her, I listened to her cry for a bit. Each one of her sobs stung about as much as my new-found scrapes on my hands. Since I still couldn’t even handle a pity-pat from my best friend, I assumed Elsie wouldn�
��t find comfort in it coming from a perfect stranger like me. I didn’t think she’d want to talk about what was bothering her either, but the silence was eating at me.

  “I remember the first night I stayed here,” I said, recalling how my own string of nightmares finally ended. I’d be the only participant in the sad little conversation we were about to have, but what I had, needed to be said. “I hated John and Martha, and the few other kids staying here at the time. They tried to win me over with candy when I got here, but I already played that game and knew how it ended. They wanted me to trust them, but a Crunch Bar wasn’t going to cut it.”

  Instead of telling her every personal detail, I hit the highlights about how I cried myself to sleep, refused to go to school, and ran away at every moment I could, but would only get lost. Once, a police officer found me five blocks away from the house. I’d walked for hours but only managed to make it five measly blocks away. A tear threatened to slip, remembering how alone I felt those first several years of my life. Statistically speaking, I should have been adopted quickly, since I was only a child when I entered the system, but few parents were prepared to take care of a blind child, especially one associated to an ongoing murder case.

 

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