Watch Over You

by Sabre, Mason

  “But then there are other stories that go back even more. To the Romans and the Greeks. The swallow is one of the birds of Aphrodite, the goddess of love. It is said that the swallow carries the souls of lost loved ones and takes them to the other side. Some even believe the swallow leads the soul to rebirth too.”

  “Which one do you believe?”

  Devan slid his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his. Her eyes were closed and much too heavy for her to care to open them. She was almost asleep standing there in his arms. “All of them,” he breathed, and then he kissed her again. Softly this time. Not exploring, just his mouth against hers. She could feel his eyes on her as his lips slid over hers.

  “Why is it on your hand?” she asked against his mouth.

  “It’s there so that I can carry a soul,” he said. Just as it is on your hand now too.”

  She nodded but was too tired to ask what that meant exactly. She didn’t complain when she felt Devan lowering her to the ground. It was hard to open her eyes for more than a fraction, so she didn’t take in much. He shifted so that he was behind her, leaning against the church wall, and she was sitting between his legs with her back against his chest. Samantha’s grave was just in front of them.

  The gentle stroke of Devan’s hand up and down her arm roused Tara. She realised that she had dozed off but was unsure of how long. “Tell me about Sam,” she said after a moment. “It was Eric that was adopted, not you? You gave me his story instead?”

  Devan kissed the top of her head, and she twisted so that she could lie half sideways with his arms around her. She was ready to sleep. “Sometimes we get sick of telling our own stories. Sometimes the stories of others are far easier than our own.”

  “Eric didn’t tell me about his life at all,” she said sleepily.

  “He wanted to. He was afraid. His adoptive parents tried to give him back. His own parents didn’t want him. His sister died because of him. He was afraid of what you would think.”

  “I loved him. I wouldn’t have cared.”

  Devan brought his knees around her more. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Cocooned her in the safety of his entire being. “He loved you too,” Devan said. “Nothing else was important.”

  Tara wanted to say more, but sleep finally claimed her instead and she drifted away in Devan’s arms. Time passed. The shadows moved and Devan just sat there with her, the truth of so many things weighing heavily inside him. But he was happy to sit there and simply hold her. He didn’t move except to close his eyes for a while.

  When Tara opened her eyes a little later, she noticed it had grown darker. She didn’t know how long she had slept for. She was still leaning against Devan, her head hazy. She lifted the hand that had clutched Devan’s for so long and uncurled her fingers. With a shocked gasp, Tara sat upright, fast. She stared at her open palm, disbelief stealing her voice. Bright in colour, beautifully intricate in detail, a swallow nestled in the centre. Just like Devan’s.

  “How…I…” She was lost for words, finding it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Blood started to trickle down her palm, like Devan’s had so many times till then. Before she could turn to ask Devan, the large clock on the church tower behind her chimed, drawing her attention. It was 11p.m.

  11p.m. 10th October.

  In thirty-seven minutes, it would be Eric’s anniversary. The thought shocked her. She had almost forgotten. How could that be? This was a date that haunted her, that tormented her daily and never left her mind. How could she have forgotten?

  “Devan?” She shifted so that she could see him, but he grabbed her arms and kept her facing away from him.

  “Don’t,” he said.

  She could see the shadows beside them. There were so many of them now. The rest of the cemetery was now in darkness, making it impossible to discern anything else. Was Devan one of them now? His eyes had been changing when she saw them. Was it worse this time?

  She struggled to shift herself around, but he held her firmly in place. “Devan?” A tint of fear laced her voice.

  The shadows parted. It was only then that she realised she wasn’t in the cemetery any longer. They were sitting on a gravel path – a driveway. One that led to a small country hotel. One that made her heart squeeze painfully in her chest and her stomach lurch in dread.

  “Oh god. Please, not here.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  “It’s the last one,” Devan explained, but that didn’t matter to Tara. It didn’t matter if it was the last one, final one or even a god damn pretend one. She couldn’t do it. Not this place. Not here. Not ever.

  “I can't.”

  “You can. You’re strong.” He hugged her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. She wanted to shake him off, but found herself leaning back and resting her face against the side of his. She was so close that his eyelashes gently flicked against her skin every time he blinked. “I’m right here with you. Okay?”

  “I can't live through this again.” She couldn’t help but cry with her words. “I can't bear it again. It was the worst day of my life.”

  “You can. I'm right here with you. I promise. It’s just one more.”

  “Why? Why does it have to be this way? I don’t even understand what is going on or why I have to live through all these things again. What’s the point of it, Devan?”

  He held her tighter. Pressed her firmer back against him. “I'm sorry. It just has to be this way.”

  “Why? What does? I don’t understand.” She didn’t want to walk. She didn’t want to move from that spot, but Devan pushed her forward. Still holding her. Still whispering that it would be okay – that she would be okay. But she didn’t care about that. She just wanted to turn around and go home, wherever that was now. She wanted her life back to the way it was before Devan. Miserable and lonely. That was fine. She could do that, but she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t see Eric die once again.

  She tried to keep her steps slow, but Devan’s weight behind her pushed her forward along the gravel path and out onto the main street. If she could have run away, she would have. All around them were a pack of hungry dogs; at least that’s how it seemed. Shadows were everywhere. They lined the entire street. A blood-hungry crowd to watch as she lived through something she could only describe as torture. They moved closer in the darkness and Tara tried to shrink into herself.

  Out of nowhere, the female shadow was suddenly ahead of them. She was clearer than the others, yet her exact details were still a blur. Her mass was as solid as it had been in the shop. She watched Tara and Devan approach, her face sullen as she stood next to the car.

  The Car.

  The car that had killed Eric. The one Tara had been driving. It stood there like a menacing creature, looking exactly as it had back then. But it couldn’t be. Tara dug her heels in and stopped, shaking her head and trying to back away. Devan was still behind her, an immovable brick wall that wouldn’t give way. The shadow moved closer.

  “You have to,” he whispered in her ear. “I am right here. You’re not alone.”

  Tara nodded but her heart was breaking. Didn’t he understand how much this was hurting her? Didn’t he understand what it all meant?

  Great sobs tore from her as Devan urged her into the car. She sat behind the steering wheel, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stared blankly ahead into the darkness. She wished she could close her eyes and just die. The shadows were all around, leaving only the front of her clear. There was no other direction in which to drive but the same one she had taken three years ago. Exactly three years ago, and at exactly this time. Only now, it wasn’t Eric sitting next to her. It was Devan.

  She tried to console herself that this wasn’t the same as that night. Eric had sat beside her then, not Devan. She even tried to convince herself that none of this was real. It had to be a bad dream from which she still hadn’t woken. None of this was possible. But it didn’t make any difference. The pro
spect of taking this drive again, on this day, at this time, and in the very same car, was much too real for her. She didn’t want to kill Devan too.

  “You need to start the engine,” he said softly when she hadn’t moved at all. “We don’t have much time.”

  She didn’t look at Devan. She didn’t want to see him sitting there; she didn’t want to look at him and see him as one of those things.

  The clock on the dashboard read 11:20p.m. Right now – three years ago – she was starting the engine and peeling away from the kerb with her temper soaring. It replayed in her mind. Over and over it went, reaching the same horrific outcome each time.

  She reluctantly turned the key and the engine growled to life. With tears blurring her vision, she clicked on the indicator to signal that she was pulling out. Flicking on the headlights, the road in front of her illuminated and all the shadows that were momentarily caught in the glare, shuffled back hastily. Nothing else moved. No cars went by; there were no people. Nothing. It was dead.

  “You can do this, Tara,” Devan urged from beside her, but she wanted to tell him to get out of the car. He had to save himself before she killed him too.

  She closed her eyes, pressed the clutch down, put the car into gear and released the handbrake. As she gently stepped onto the accelerator, she allowed the clutch to rise and the car to gradually inch away from the kerb. Her entire body was trembling uncontrollably and she was sure her foot would slip from the pedal at any moment. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, fearing that something would cause it to go out of control and send them spinning into a wall or a stationary vehicle. The car crept along at an abnormally slow speed. “You have to speed up,” Devan said. “We’ll never make it on time if you don’t.”

  “Make it where?”

  “Motorway.”

  “Motorway?” The word slapped her in the face and made her head spin from the force of it. “No. Please. I can't,” she sobbed. “I can't. Please don’t make me.”

  “I’m right here,” he said to her, placing a reassuring hand on her knee. “You’re doing great, but we have to speed up. You know where we need to go.”

  Her heart sank farther, dropping to the ground and splitting into two. She had hoped that it wasn’t where they were heading. She knew the destination. The place where everything had ended. The place that had claimed Eric’s last breath and the only thing in the world that had ever mattered to her. Shivers went down her spine. She had vowed never to never go there again. How could people just drive over that spot as if it didn’t matter? As is the most devastating horror hadn’t occurred there. How could they move on with their lives as if everything in the world was normal?

  “Please, Devan,” she begged through her sobbing. “Please don’t make me go there. Anywhere else but there.”

  “I'm sorry,” he said softly, his voiced filled with regret. “I’m here with you. I promise it’ll all be okay.”

  Tears streamed down her face in a relentless flow. Why was she going through this nightmare again? Why couldn’t she wake up and see it was all a bad dream? Everything was clear in her mind - the car, the road, the barrier coming closer and being unable to stop it. Eric’s vacant face, the ambulance, people running past her as if she didn’t exist. Her tears had felt like they would never dry up. Her heart bled and escaped through her eyes. Why hadn’t she died yet from the pain of it all?

  She started to shake as they approached the motorway, and everything inside her screamed to miss the exit. She could just drive on and miss it and by the time she turned around again, it would be too late. Even as she thought this, the car turned almost of its own accord onto the dreaded highway. Darkness was all around her. The shadows seemed to move in every corner, following her. She put the indicator on and turned onto the slip road that led to the motorway.

  “Faster, Tara, or we won’t get there in time,” Devan prompted gently, but the underlying urgency could be heard.

  It was 11:30 now. Seven minutes left. Seven minutes and it would be that moment. The more she pushed down on the pedal, the more her heart cried inside. It was screaming for her to stop and pull over. Turn around and go home. Grief and sorrow weighed her down and, for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her vision blurred and she desperately tried to blink the tears away. She was terrified to let go of the wheel to wipe them away.

  She sat forward, tightly clutching the wheel and trying not to let the white markings in the road hypnotise her into a state of sleep while she drove. Her eyes were tired and heavy from crying. The painted lines sped by, dangerously mesmerising. They stole her focus without her realising and she had to snap back to reality every few seconds.

  Drowsiness started to overtake her, just as it had three years ago. She should have pulled over then, stopped for coffee, even napped a little – like she should do now. She should have listened to Eric. He had wanted one more night in the hotel, but she hadn’t. She’d been so desperate to get home. She had been so wrong. Was this some kind of cruel punishment now?

  Tara’s eyelids demanded to close. She fought them, but sleep was sucking her in, like a drug. She was so heavy inside. She rubbed her weary eyes, then tried to blink them open wide, but sleep was stronger than she was; and it was winning. She shifted in her seat, trying to sit up straighter and get herself to wake up. Devan removed his hand from her knee, startling her for a moment and reminding her of his presence. Not wanting to take her eyes off the road any longer than was necessary, Tara made a furtive glance in his direction - then did a double take. She gasped and her foot stepped down harder on the accelerator, a reflex of her shock. Eric sat in the passenger seat beside her, staring straight ahead. She stopped breathing and her mind went blank.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she drank in the sight of him. Tall, slim and beautiful, just as she remembered him. He was so close that if she reached out, she’d be able to touch him. He turned his head then and, as their eyes met, Tara forgot where she was or what she was doing. There was only Eric. His face was sad; love and regret flickered in his eyes. Her breathe hitched. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered tearfully, unable to say anything more. But the words had no sound, her voice having no substance.

  Tara reached out a hand towards him and then her whole world turned upside down. Her body jerked violently to the side and the harsh clang of metal on metal rang loudly in her head. Brakes screeched and tyres squealed against the road. The shrill sound of iron and steel as the car scraped along the barrier resonated cacophonously in the air. Nothing could defeat the echo of death as it swooped down and spun the car a full three hundred and sixty degrees. The car hurtled sideways at an abnormal angle. The front of the car crumpled with each movement, folding in and giving way to the barrier that grasped onto it. The car lurched. Spun. Lights flashed by. Tara couldn’t hold on. She couldn’t make a sound. Her head bounced off the window. The speed and gravity fought against her, throwing her around any way they wanted until the car came to a sudden stop. Having gone all the way around, it bounced into a final fence, crunched in on itself and settled there, unmoving.

  The rain beat down once more on a lonely motorway, where a car lay at the wrong angle with its front demolished and crushed. Tara pushed herself up as she had three years ago, each movement a cruel card dealt by some odd déjà vu. She got to her feet, disorientated, shaking and alone. It was eerily quiet. No cars. No horns. No sirens. A deathly silence. For a moment, she couldn’t remember what had just happened. Within seconds, it all came rushing back in full force.

  “Eric?” she screamed into the night. Her head spun and her legs threatened to give out on her. She brought shaky hands up to her head, and her fingers came away wet with blood. Her blood. It trickled down her face. “Devan?” she yelled, unsure whose name she should be shouting. There was no answer.

  She stumbled towards the wreckage of her car on the other side of the barrier. It was damaged beyond repair, just as it had been three years ago. The silver metal was bent and crushed. The bonnet def
ormed. Everything was exactly the same. Every moment. Even down to Eric slumped forwards in the passenger seat.

  Dead.

  Tara stood there, knees weak and bile rising swiftly to her throat. Her eyes were pinned onto Eric’s lifeless form. No, not again. He had been given back to her for a few precious seconds, only to be cruelly snatched away from her once more. What kind of sick joke was this?

  She was too terrified to approach him. She knew the outcome. Three years ago, she had run to him, screaming his name, trying desperately to revive him. It wasn’t until the emergency services arrived that she let go of him. They had pulled him out, oblivious to her cries and pleas for them to help him. Uncaring, they had placed him onto a stretcher, covered his face and taken him away. Her Eric. They had just taken the love of her life away - that simply. She had been left standing there, empty and barren and alone.

  It had all felt so unreal. He couldn’t be dead. What if they were wrong? What if they had made a mistake? She had asked herself that so many times. Even when they had buried him. What if he was still alive in there and crying for her? Every time she had left him in that cemetery, she’d had such a pull to go back. What if he wasn’t dead?

  It wasn’t at all like last time, though. Devan was standing by the car. He had his hand stretched out to her. She stood there, undecided whether she should take it or not. Maybe she could yell or scream instead. Anything that could take away what she was feeling. Her heart had been broken into a million pieces all over again, and she wondered how it was that Devan could have done this to her. The shadows surrounded her, their vulture-like hunger pressing heavily against her consciousness.

  She backed away from them; from Devan too. The girl shadow came to stand just behind him but Tara shook her head. She couldn’t help but see Eric lying there, a victim of what she had done again. His lifeless face haunted her thoughts. “Why?” she shouted at Devan.