January Dreams

by Carrigan Richards

  We talk about the events of our dreams, but after a while I want something else to talk about. They’re getting too involved, and I don’t want to pretend they’re real anymore. “What did you want to tell me?”

  “Oh, that. I don’t know how you’re going to react to this.”

  I tense, but secretly want to hear what he feels for me.

  “My mom was reading the newspaper to me, to give me company on her break.”

  This isn’t what I expected.

  “She scanned through it and made a comment about some kid who died from a gunshot.”

  My heart picks up its pace. Why I think of Vincent immediately, I don’t know. It could be that I know he used to be into drugs. But if it was Vincent, someone would have told me, wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t his dad know to tell me? But with a wife dying of cancer, and now a dead son, his dad is probably overwhelmed. Tears brim on the surface of my eyes from my overactive brain.

  “It was Adam.”

  That brings me up short. “What?” I blink away the tears.

  “Police found him dead in his home. Investigators are looking for any information as to the killer. What’s even more strange is that they don’t have any information on the guy. The article said there wasn’t anyone else living there, no pictures, no belongings. Nothing. They’re speculating a drug deal gone bad.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Does this mean we’ll never know who tried to kill you?”

  “I don’t know. Um, the nurse is telling me to get off the phone. Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” I say. “Get some rest.” I hang up and hold the phone in my hand, while curling up in the bed. Who killed Adam? Was he into more bad stuff than attacking girls? I hate him, but I never wished for his death. My mind races. Who tried to kill Casper? Was it Adam?

  Who was Adam? Why does he seem like a complete nobody who attacked me, yet he knew me?

  Once my heart rate returns to normal, I lay there, motionless, allowing the medicine to take over.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I stand at the back of the room as Vincent holds a celebration for my return in the palace. The delicately ornate ceiling arches over the dance room while gentle classical music plays. Musicians play violins, pianofortes, harpsichords, and a hammered dulcimer. I have always loved their music and being here in this room, but now I feel awkward.

  We’re all dressed in our elegant evening attire. I’m wearing a cream, French silk dress with a low neck and elbow-length ruffled sleeves. The gown is padded with bands of blue satin at the bottom of the skirt. Some women wear white wigs and have painted their faces white, but my black hair is in springy curls.

  I try to be cheerful, but something nags at me. These are my people, but I feel out of place. Probably because it’s been so long since I was here, and they seem to remember more than me. That and I constantly think of the voice calling my name in my memory. I have no idea whose it belongs to, but when I hear it, I get the same reaction when I think of the blond color.

  “There’s the life of the party.” Florence flashes a wide smile and takes my hands. “I am so happy to see you.”

  I peer into her large green eyes that are as vibrant as her smile. A beautiful gold gown adorns her voluptuous body, and her shiny long blond curls are held back by small barrettes.

  “I’m happy to see you as well.”

  “I’m surprised Vincent let you out tonight.” She winks. “He’s been miserable, so I understand.” She loops her arm with mine and fans herself with her paper fan.

  We wander outside the stone palace into the hedge maze and stroll under the midnight sky with bright stars. The only sounds are our footsteps along the gravel path and the low chatter among others.

  “I really have missed you,” she says. “Do you remember anything about the Elves?”

  I shake my head. “Vincent says he found me with one Elf in a remote cottage. He doesn’t think I even made it to the Belle Palais. He says I was tortured. Why would they kidnap me though?”

  “It’s a game. They planned to dangle you in front of him, so he’d give up the Jewel. But Vincent found you.”

  “Part of me wishes I knew more.”

  “Vincent would never let anything happen to you.”

  But he had, hadn’t he? By letting them take me away. How had they done it? I can’t believe I would even talk to an Elf, let alone spend time with them. “Well now that I’m back, they can’t take me again. I won’t let them manipulate me again.”

  “Let’s not worry about such things now.”

  “Megan,” Vincent calls from behind us. I turn and he smiles. “May I take her away?” he asks Florence.

  “Of course.”

  He escorts me back inside to the large dancing room. Vincent asks them to play a song. The music stops, but a new song begins, and he pulls me close. We are among several dancers on the floor. Even though I have been with Vincent my entire life and I love him, something still doesn’t feel right being this close to him.

  The song sounds familiar as we move with it. We touch hands and follow the steps as they are second nature. Vincent twirls me around and something comes back to me. I envision me in a maroon dress, smiling, and dancing with a faceless stranger. It isn’t Vincent, I don’t think. But it’s someone that I seem to love.

  Once the song ends, we applaud the musicians and retreat to a quiet corner in the room. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead. “Let us take a walk,” he says, and slides his hand into mine. We meander outside until we find the gazebo and sit on a swing under the latticed ceiling.

  “I will never forgive myself,” he says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wasn’t here, and it gave them easy access to you. I was off on an important journey. Unfortunately, that’s what happens when I’m part of the army. It was agonizing every minute you were gone. Not knowing what they were doing to you.”

  “Oh, Vincent.” A tear streaks down my cheek.

  “I had hoped that they would not make you forget me. But I did that.”

  “I have not forgotten you, mon amour. We can make new memories.”

  Vincent leans over and softly kisses my lips. His kiss turns urgent and it overwhelms me. And I still feel wrong. I don’t know what it is because I love Vincent and I want to be with him and show him. Had they attacked me? Am I repressing some memory that prevents me from being intimate with him?

  I press against his chest and he pulls away, searching my eyes. “You’re different.”

  I frown and drop my eyes from his heavy gaze.

  “What have they done to you?” He touches his forehead to mine.

  “Please don’t be disappointed with me.”

  His dark blue eyes hold a rueful look. “I could never be disappointed with you. It will only take time. I will kill every one of them who hurt you.” Vengeance flashes in his eyes and it scares me.

  The days merge together, and I can’t keep up with what day it is. Each day I await a message from Casper, and I know the more we talk, the more I like him. I can’t be doing this to Vincent, but I can’t stop. I feel like a terrible person because I’m not a cheater. The guilt eats at me and I know I should stop talking to Casper.

  Every time I dream, it’s of Vincent and our life at our palace. We spend our days walking, talking, and kissing. And our nights seem to be consumed by parties at the palace. But the voice from my memory still haunts me. Outside of my dreams, Vincent doesn’t send me a single message, which annoys me. I know he isn’t at school because of his suspension, so, where is he? What is he doing? I think something might have happened to his mom.

  I text him, asking if he’s okay.

  No. I really miss my girl.

  I miss you, too. How is your mom?

  Worse.

  I’m sorry. Anything I can do?

  I hate how simple his messages are. If he really misses me, wouldn’t he want to talk more?

  Get well. I’m at the hospital. I will
talk to you later.

  I let out an annoyed sigh. But I feel bad because I’m acting too selfish. I know he needs to spend as much time with his mom as possible. I hate this. I miss him so much and while he’s grieving for his mother, I’m talking to his arch enemy.

  My first two weeks of sickness pass and I still feel the same. I wonder if I’ll ever feel normal again. With all the sleep, it’s like my dreams are the only thing going on in my life. It feels like ages since I’ve seen Cherry. I miss her and hope she hasn’t forgotten about me.

  My throat finally stops aching and I’m able to talk again, but not much. Mom called the doctor and she told Mom that I’m still contagious and to take it easy. I do a lot of make-up homework and I’ve written more in my story, including the bits that Vincent wrote.

  The days seem endless and I’m excruciatingly bored. To walk outside and feel the cool crisp air would be nice. To see something other than the four lavender walls of my room. I’m tired of staring at my band posters. No one can visit either.

  One night, I finally get a message from Vincent asking if I’m still sick, so I call.

  “Hey, you,” he says, and I can tell he’s smiling. “Are you feeling better?”

  “I’m fine.” I can hear the irritation in my voice.

  “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. Can I come over?”

  “No. I’m still contagious. My parents won’t let anyone come over.”

  “I can sneak into your bedroom.”

  “No, they’d find out.”

  He lets out a sigh. “Can you help a guy out? I’ll be outside your house at around midnight. I need to see you.”

  “What? You can’t come over.”

  “I’ll park down the street. See you tonight.”

  He hangs up before I can object. I don’t care that it’s been forever since we’ve talked. I want to see him. I need to.

  Midnight comes and I stayed up so I can see if Vincent did come. I’m not sure how I’m going to open the front door without making a sound and waking up the dogs. But somehow, I creep across the hardwood floor soundlessly and slowly turn the knob on the glass paned door. I step outside and shiver, even though I’m wearing a heavy coat over my flannel pajamas, a beanie, a scarf, thick socks and shoes. I close the door behind me and walk out into the yard. The full moon is high above and very bright tonight.

  I stand outside, shivering and waiting for Vincent. I don’t know what I want to say to him, but it makes no sense that I haven’t heard from him. I hear footsteps and I see him nearing my driveway. I meet him in front of the bush to hide from the house, though everyone is asleep.

  Vincent rushes up and circles his arms around me, cradling my head against his chest, but I keep my hands in my jacket pocket. “It’s been so long.” He kisses my forehead. “I missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” I speak into his warm jacket and shiver.

  “My car is warm, come on.” His warm hands take mine and once we’re inside the car, we snuggle in the front seat with the heat on.

  “You shouldn’t get this close to me,” I tell him, but I enjoy feeling his arms around me.

  I feel him shrug. “I don’t care. I wanted to see you.”

  I smile.

  “When are you coming back to school?”

  “I don’t know. My doctor said I’ll probably be out for a month.”

  Vincent groans. “My poor baby’s sick. This is brutal. Having you this close and not being able to kiss you.”

  “You can still get sick being this close to me.” I raise my head. “If you get sick, you-you won’t be able to visit your mom.” I try to move away but he only holds me tighter.

  He chuckles. “I’ll be fine.” He presses my head against his chest and kisses my forehead. “I bet being sick is boring. What have you been doing to pass the time?”

  “Mostly sleeping. Writing. Talking to Cherry and Casp—” I stop. Crap. I feel his body go rigid.

  “Casper?” He pushes me off his chest and his eyes are cold. “The same Casper who lied about you, hurt you all those times, and attacked me?” The anger in his voice reverberates in the car and it scares me because I know nothing I say now will fix this.

  “I was bored. You never called or sent a message. He did.”

  “I was with my mom, Megan,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

  “I know. But you couldn’t send one message? Not even to ask how I was doing?”

  “Why are you attacking me? I came to see you.”

  “I don’t understand you. You’re always talking about me not forgetting you, yet for two weeks I’ve barely heard from you.”

  He rakes his hand through his hair. “I’ve been visiting my dying mother,” he snaps. “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to talk to you constantly. I figured you were sick and needed sleep so I didn’t want to bother you.”

  I bite back tears and look away. I don’t want to fight, but I’m frustrated, and I don’t understand him. Has he ever dated a girl before?

  He releases a sigh. “You shouldn’t even be talking to him. He’s dangerous.”

  “He was in a coma. I wanted to see if he was okay.”

  “So, being close to death automatically makes him the good guy?”

  “Why are you both at each other’s throats over me? You barely know each other. I’m nothing special.”

  “You have no idea.” The intense look in his eyes forces me to look away.

  “I wish you two could get along.”

  “That’ll never happen. Why do you still talk to him? After everything he did to you.”

  “He didn’t say those things.”

  “He’s manipulating you. He attacked me. Have you already forgotten that part?”

  I bite my tongue. “Vincent.”

  He tilts his head. “You like him, don’t you?”

  “What? No,” I say, but I feel the blood creeping into my cheeks. I hope he can’t tell.

  Vincent shakes his head, frustrated, and drags his hands down his face. “I can never win with you, can I?”

  “What are you talking about?” I don’t like the gut-wrenching feeling I’m suddenly experiencing.

  “I’m always doing something wrong in your eyes. You always think I’m the bad guy. No matter what.”

  “No, I don’t.” I reach for his cheek, but his hand snatches my wrist.

  “Forget it. You should go back inside.” He peers out the window.

  “Vincent, no.”

  He opens the door, refusing to look at me. I want to hold onto him, and I don’t want him to let me go. He never says a word. I slide off his lap and out of the car. He keeps the door open for a moment.

  “Please don’t go,” I tell him. My eyes water and my heart is tearing apart. His eyes meet mine and all I see is anger and pain.

  “Go inside, Megan.” His voice is low, but not gentle. He closes the door and drives away.

  As my heart beats against my chest, I feel it shatter into pieces. I’m not sure what just happened. Did he break up with me? Have I been foolish? Why did I have to mention Casper?

  Dejected, I creep back inside the house and into my room. I sit on the edge of my bed, still dressed, holding back tears. My phone beeps and for a brief moment I get excited that maybe it’s Vincent and we can talk about the whole stupid ordeal and move on from it. If he asks me to never talk to Casper again, I’ll do it. But when I pick up my phone, I frown at Casper’s name.

  Hey. How are you? I hope you’re coming back to school soon. I kinda miss you.

  Part of me wants to chuck the phone across the room. Instead, I clear the message and place it on my nightstand. I want to be talking to Vincent and I don’t know when we’ll speak again. I have to end my friendship with Casper. It’s the only way all of this hatred and stress will end.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Peering through the window watching the heavy rain fall in sheets, I can barely see the mountains in the distance and the beautiful vast field. My mind tugs at a mem
ory. Running in the rain. And feeling lips on mine sending a shock throughout me. The door opens and startles me. I turn around and Vincent appears with sad eyes.

  He waits in the threshold for a moment. “Every morning, you’re so forlorn. Are you unhappy?”

  I shake my head and let the curtain fall, blocking the window. “No. I fear the unknown.”

  He hesitantly crosses the room and intertwines his fingers with mine. “It’s such an unpleasant day but I hope to cheer you up.” Vincent smiles and reaches in his pocket, pulling out a black cloth. He peels it back to reveal a beautiful yellow gold link necklace with a central scrolling foliate motif. It’s set with an oval garnet with three golden scrolling drops. It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Vincent,” I say.

  He lifts it from the cloth, and I turn around, raising my hair. He gently places it around my neck. My fingers brush against the satin-like texture and I feel his lips brush behind my ear. My skin tingles. “You make it look gorgeous,” he whispers and moves to my neck. Vincent tightens his arms around me and my breath hitches. I twist around and he presses his lips to mine, kissing me so tenderly and lovingly.

  He rests his forehead on mine, holding my hands against his chest. I see the muscle in his jaw twitch.

  “Vincent, what is it?”

  Melancholy flickers in his eyes. “I must sail out in the morning.” He lowers his gaze to my hands and kisses them.

  My stomach drops and I shake my head. “No. You can’t.”

  “The war has started. I promise I will return to you.”

  “How long must you be gone?”

  “I do not know.”

  I start crying and he pulls me hard against him.

  “I cannot believe that the second I find you; I must leave.”

  “Why must you go? What am I to do?” Panic fills me.

  “I’m part of the army. I must obey orders.”

  “Please don’t leave me. My days without you are empty. I cannot rest easily when you are gone. I always have nightmares.”

  “You said the same thing the last time I left.” He gives a pained smile. “This will be the last time, I promise. You must be strong once more. I know you can do this.”