Unnerved, Rayleigh stood up. She was more upset at having been pulled away from the movie. She put her hand to the blue luminescence, but it was vapor, like smoke. It dwindled at her touch.
“Why can’t you leave me alone?”
The blue above turned an angry, violent red, pulsing, growing bigger.
“You’re not paying attention!” Rayleigh shouted. “I told you to listen to me!”
Footsteps hurried across the floor upstairs. She heard the basement door open, the tread of feet coming down the steps.
You can’t ignore me forever! I’ll do something awful, something bad! You can’t do anything to me!
“You’re nothing! Leave me alone!”
The angry red turned a thick, inky black. Hatred bounced off the walls in all directions before disappearing. The door to her bedroom opened, and her mother and father stood, eyes wide, staring at her.
“Rayleigh!” her mother shouted. “Rayleigh! What’s the matter?”
Her mother hurried over and put her arms around her. Her father stood mute, not knowing what to do.
“It was here again, Mom!” Rayleigh said. “It’s always here! I’m tired of it!”
Rayleigh cried. Her mother hugged her close and looked at Rex.
“I hate her, Mom. I don’t know who she is! But I hate her!”
Rayleigh sobbed into her mother’s shoulder.
The light had disappeared, but its presence lingered, a heavy force that seemed to contaminate the room with evil.
~
“Who do you think she was talking about?” Dorothy asked.
After Rayleigh had calmed down, she finally grew tired enough and fell asleep, The Changeling having to wait until another night. Dorothy and Rex were upstairs in the living room. Rex hurriedly made himself a drink and lit a cigarette.
“It’s those damn movies and things in her room,” Dorothy said. “I’m taking them down first thing tomorrow. I swear to God.”
Rex gave her an impatient, even stupid look. “That’s not gonna solve anything. And she’ll hate you for it.”
“What do you suggest then, Rex? What are we supposed to do? A doctor? Medication? Do you think our daughter is going crazy?”
Rex rubbed his head, the cigarette smoke making a wreath above him. “I don’t like the idea of Rayleigh on medication. She has a vivid imagination, and she has no outlet for it—not enough of one apparently.”
Dorothy put her head in her hands. It seemed a very rational, Rex-like thing to say.
“Come on, babe,” Rex said. He put the cigarette out, set his drink on the counter, and stepped toward his wife.
“Our daughter is losing her mind!”
Rex closed his eyes. He willed the thought away as easily as slamming a door.
And what about when he’d been standing in the doorway, as if a malevolent force had taken over the room?
Whatever it was, it was still in the house. He could feel it on his skin.
~
Rayleigh slept for more than ten hours. When she made it upstairs the next morning in her pajamas, her mother and father were waiting for her in the kitchen.
“Morning, Rayleigh,” her father said.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Sleep okay?”
Rayleigh nodded.
Dorothy studied her daughter.
Rex and his wife looked at each other. He turned back to Rayleigh. “Do you remember last night, pumpkin?” he asked.
Rayleigh looked up and stared at him, confused. Understanding came into her eyes a second later, and she said, “Yes.”
“Do you know what it was? Did you have a bad dream?”
“It was her.”
“Who is ‘her?’” her dad asked.
“I don’t know. I hear her sometimes. In my head.”
Rex and Dorothy exchanged another look.
“What does she say?” her father asked.
Rayleigh shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. She was tired of the conversation already. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“Okay,” her dad said gently, and sighed.
“Can I take a shower now?” Rayleigh asked.
Her father nodded. Rayleigh left the kitchen and went to the bathroom.
“What do you think?” Dorothy asked.
Rex looked at his wife, waited for the bathroom door to close, and said, “I think we may live in haunted house. Maybe we should move.”
He wasn’t being serious, but Dorothy nodded.
~
By the end of the weekend, Rayleigh Thorn was more her vampire self again. She didn’t think about the events in her room, at least she tried not to. Her parents, however, watched her with a cautious eye. Her father took them out for dinner at The Blue Parrot on Saturday night, and Rayleigh seemed to regain her wit and charm, making sarcastic comments about how good The Blue Parrot spaghetti was.
Rayleigh-girl, lost from light. She sees everything in front of her, and everything is new.
She was able to perceive a small—if not the tiny light—welcoming her into a new world, new landscapes and possibilities. There was hope here.
Special girl. You are liberated and free already. There is no defeating you.
She saw it, nothing to do with vampires, but thoughts of love and hope, everything the other night hadn’t been. Could two entities be warring in her brain, she wondered?
You are capable of changing the world—the life around you. Do you realize that?
Someone or something battled for possession of her mind. One she befriended. The other—a black entity that wasn’t blue—endeavored to drive her mad.
Who are you, Rayleigh-girl? Why do you frighten the dark so much?
“You would think my devotion to you would be enough,” she said. “I am the queen of this land. I am BIGGER than you!”
There was no reply.
~
On Sunday afternoon, Rayleigh’s mother knocked on her door, asking her if she wanted anything.
“I want to read,” Rayleigh said.
“You don’t spend time with us anymore,” her mother said.
Rayleigh sighed, tired of the drama filling the house lately. Why was everyone so concerned about her? She wasn’t an invalid.
“Come on, Mom,” she asked. “What’s the deal?”
Her mother sighed. “Your father misses you,” she said.
“But I’m right here. I’ve been here all day.”
“Not like that, Rayleigh. He misses time with you. You spend a lot of time with Janeen now, and he hardly ever gets to see you.”
Rayleigh looked at the pattern of gray squares on the carpeted floor. “Well, I like Janeen, Mom. It’s not like I have lots of friends these days. Now, I get one, and all you do is complain about it.”
“It’s not that, Rayleigh. It’s just…you’re growing up.”
“I know you want me to stay a child forever Mom, but personally, I can’t wait ’til it’s over. It’s giving me a headache.”
“You’re growing up too fast is all, Rayleigh. Childhood doesn’t last forever.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Rayleigh. I wish you wouldn’t talk that way.”
“Can I read now?”
“Yes,” her mother said and shut the door.
You’d think they’d be grateful. With Janeen and Rayleigh doing homework together, both of their grades were improving.
Rayleigh turned her attention to a book of short stories by H.P. Lovecraft. She was reading the The Unnamable.
You are not a bad girl because you love these things. Just because you have a war inside your head doesn’t mean you’re awful. It doesn’t make you bad.
“You should come by more often,” she said.
Laughter echoed through her head, and Rayleigh lost herself in the story. It was the brightest spot of her weekend.
~
Her Book of Poems was open in front of her. On her bed, she lied on her stomach, knees bent, toes in the air. She gnawed on the
ends of one of her favorite pens, an Expresso. Book of Poems was a small spiral notebook with a bright green cover. On the front, Rayleigh had labored diligently with the same black pen, Book of Poems by Rayleigh Thorn.
Body strewn,
Gift of life.
I am a child forever,
I have lived,
but forgotten how to breathe.
Chest of thorns waits my return,
until another body beckons.
She stared, wondering if she should keep it or throw it away. No matter how corny or downright awful they sometimes seemed, she didn’t like throwing away the things she jotted down.
Her mother and father had gone into town, leaving Rayleigh alone. They sighed reluctantly when she said she wanted to stay home. She was glad when they’d left, though. After their ceaseless interruptions, it was a relief to have them gone. They didn’t want her to be alone, but as her father pointed out, Rayleigh was a big girl. Rex and Dorothy trusted her, unlike Janeen’s parents, who wouldn’t let Janeen visit unless Rex and Dorothy were home. Rayleigh rolled her eyes thinking about it.
Last confession—little grace, maggots falling from its face.
Perfumed entry stands no more.
Gifted, gilded?—try the door.
Passion rots this redolent tongue.
Hungry for freedom—try your thumb.
Maybe Lacey, maybe love.
Maybe Mother eats dead bugs.
Rayleigh giggled, read over it, and giggled again. She gnawed on the pen, feet kicking back and forth, and tried once more:
Maybe Lunacy, maybe love. Maybe I’m a perfect dove.
Lost in madness, I gave my all.
And now it’s time for me to fall.
Generous and loving I’ve tried to be,
Changing battles all the time;
But a torrent melts my mighty Universe.
Tell me it isn’t so.
For how am I to live and breathe,
When fire licks my heels and toes?
She had no titles for her random thoughts. Most of the entries were rambling, senseless sentences.
She penned again, tongue visible between clenched teeth. Rayleigh gave it all her attention now. She was not on her bed, she felt, only vaguely aware of it. She flew through space, into some unknown, parallel galaxy. She didn’t care where she ended up, as long as it was someplace special, where poetry fell freely from her lips.
I am living, made of flesh, made of wonder, hopeful chest.
Gold inside me, shining bright, I am girl, made of light.
I am tearful; I am shy. I don’t always like to cry.
I like flowers, touches, kisses.
I like making lovely wishes.
I am pink. I am gold. I am crimson. I am prose.
I like lilacs in the spring. I like touching pretty things.
I see beauty in their eyes. Love is permanent. I will not die.
I’ll find victory; I’ll find love.
I’ll look down from Heaven above.
I’ll find the Creator and push Him aside
Because I’m not his blushing bride.
I am His mother. I am His queen.
I am the Maker of All Living Things.
I gave birth to one and all,
So, how is it possible that I should fall—
When foes fail to overthrow,
Where I have no prison, a cell to go,
A hell and horror to call my own?
Because I’m star-shine, victory supreme.
I am the Maker of All living things.
You cannot hurt me, make me bleed.
You can’t insult me, make me scream.
I forgive you, set you free…
She paused, then wrote:
Cry on me for the rest of your life.
I will love you, hold you tight.
I will breathe you back to life.
Rayleigh smiled, closed the book, and went upstairs to make herself a sandwich.
~
That night, she lay in the dark, the moon’s light leaking through the small window, which was no bigger than a shoebox. The window provided little illumination even during the day. Tonight, however, the moon was out full and bright, and its glow shed light through Rayleigh’s bedroom.
She looked at the moonlight and thought about the blue glow. She was a ghost, staring at herself, as though she’d crept out of her own body and knelt on the floor, looking into her own huge, dark eyes, studying her lustrous, purple/black hair, milky skin glowing slightly blue.
Rayleigh closed her eyes. All was quiet. She failed to see herself as a ghostly vampire and drifted off to sleep. She dreamed of friends she would have in the future.
One…she already knew by name.
9.
Betrayed
“You should wear your hair like this.” Rayleigh piled Janeen’s hair on top of her head in a mass of blonde curls. “Now, pout and give me a sexy kiss.”
Janeen pressed her lips together and kissed the air in front of the mirror. She pouted, blew a kiss again, and laughed hysterically. Rayleigh joined in.
It was May 19th.
Rayleigh and Janeen had already done their homework. After dinner, Janeen had knocked on the front door with her books in her arms.
“Hi, Janeen,” Rayleigh’s mother had said.
“Hi, Dorothy.”
Rayleigh’s mother and father were cool, Janeen thought. They insisted Janeen be less formal and use their first names.
“Do the same with Rex,” Dorothy had said, when Janeen had first been introduced to them. “He’ll like that.”
“Okay, Dorothy.”
Passing Rayleigh’s father in the living room chair, Janeen put her hand in the air, and said, “Yo, Rex, how’s it going?”
Rex turned toward Janeen, raised his eyebrows, threw his head back, and laughed. The Thorns liked Janeen.
Down in the room, they were ‘prettying’ each other up.
“Mom won’t let me wear make-up, yet,” Janeen said. “But sometimes, on the weekends, I’ll sneak into the bathroom and steal some. She doesn’t mind then, because I’m not in public. I can’t wait to start wearing make-up.”
“It’ll be fun. I can’t wait to start driving boys crazy. They’re so stupid.”
“You already drive boys crazy. But they are stupid.”
They laughed, and Rayleigh played with Janeen’s hair some more.
“Now bat your eyes and blow another kiss,” Rayleigh said. “Put your shoulders into it this time.”
Janeen did, putting her shoulders into it, batting her green eyes and blowing a kiss.
They laughed again.
“See how pretty,” Rayleigh said, smiling. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw how her smile and eyes frightened people. She almost scared herself. She quickly looked away before Janeen noticed.
“Do you want to kiss again?”
“I’ve kissed Ricky a lot,” Rayleigh said, ignoring the question.
“I bet he’s a good kisser.”
“He is, and he likes to smoke afterwards.”
“Ricky smokes?”
“I thought I told you.”
“I think I smelled it on him.”
“Yeah, he’s a good kisser,” Rayleigh said. “I’ll kiss you again.”
She leaned down and kissed Janeen’s cheek softly. Janeen blushed and closed her eyes, heaving a sigh.
“I want to kiss you,” Janeen said.
“Okay,” Rayleigh said.
Rayleigh didn’t mind letting Janeen kiss her, not when they were in private. The books were open on the bed in case her mother knocked on the door, and they had something to immerse themselves in quickly.
Janeen turned. Rayleigh knelt and put her arms around Janeen’s neck. Janeen put her slender arms around Rayleigh’s waist and pulled her close. The fabric of their shirts touched. Janeen put her lips against Rayleigh’s, and they closed their eyes. Kissing was exciting to Rayleigh. She didn’t get th
e thrill out of it that Janeen did. She would rather kiss Ricky Bradford. At the moment, Janeen probed her mouth with her tongue, pulled away, kissed again, and savored the taste of Rayleigh’s lips.
“Mmm,” Janeen said. “I like kissing you.”
“You like girls better than boys?”
“I like both. No, I like boys better, but some girls are so pretty I want to kiss them. And you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re weird,” Rayleigh said.
They laughed and leaned in to kiss again.
“You taste good,” Janeen said.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Rayleigh’s heart beat rapidly. Janeen must like girls more than boys, she thought. She’d felt ill the first time she’d kissed Janeen, but she sort of enjoyed it. It was…wicked.
Janeen kissed Rayleigh’s cheek and pulled away. Rayleigh looked at herself in the mirror, saw a ghostly vampire, and reached out to touch Janeen’s cheek.
“Can you imagine if my mom walked in!”
“Good thing the door’s locked.”
They laughed and turned back to the mirror.
“You should do something now,” Janeen said, standing and letting Rayleigh sit in front of the mirror. It was bright and warm out, greener, with spring in full force. The sun sent light through the room, making it brighter than usual.
Rayleigh sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror.
“Beautiful girl,” Janeen said, and smiled. “God, you have such beautiful hair.”
“You always say that.”
“Well, you do. You have beautiful hair.”
“Stop it,” Rayleigh said.
Janeen laughed and put her hand through the thick, black locks. “I like how it looks blue in the light.”
“It’s purple,” Rayleigh said.
“Is not.”
“Is so.”
They laughed again, more a giggle this time, and now Janeen piled Rayleigh’s hair on top of her head.
Since they’d been friends, Janeen turned a little more into Rayleigh each day. She wore jeans and darker shirts now. She didn’t wear her hair in a ponytail anymore but let it spill to her shoulders. She even talked about dying it black.
Corona of Blue Page 13
