by Carys Jones
Her vision began to blur as her migraine intensified and her body broke out in a cool, clammy sweat. Whilst she remained lucid she wondered what Sebastian would have said if she’d pointed out that the man in the new story was the man who had spoken to her about Azriel? Would he still think her crazy? Probably.
The most important thing was that the man in the navy coat was real. He was human, he had been alive. This comforted Marie as she’d started to question her own sanity which was most unpleasant. But now she was resolute that everything was real, all of it. Even Azriel.
She began to shiver against the sweat, her teeth chattering together. Marie hated it when her head blinded her with pain like this but she knew she could endure it. After all, it was easier to handle when she felt like she could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. With just one day left to spare Marie was certain that she had finally figured out how she could return to Azriel.
“Orion,” she whispered through quaking teeth, “I’m coming home. I’m coming back to Azriel.”
Return
The Schneider household was eerily quiet as Sebastian manoeuvred around the kitchen and made himself a coffee. Sleep had eluded him throughout the night. He tossed and turned on the floor beside Marie unable to settle, unable to relax. All he could think about was the day ahead, it consumed his thoughts. He kept imaging how the events would play out, how Marie would react when Dr Colton assessed her and concluded that it may be in her best interests to place her within a secure facility.
Would Bill have the strength to sign the necessary documents if Marie wept and begged him not to? Would Sebastian be able to stand by and let her be taken away?
Watching the cloud of steam erupt from the stainless steel kettle Sebastian reminded himself that it was all for the best, it was all to help Marie. She was utterly lost to her imaginary world and he had to save her, no matter the cost.
He stirred some milk in to his coffee and watched the hot liquid lighten. Outside shadows still owned the streets as most of the world remained sleeping, recovering from the revelry of an overly Merry Christmas.
*
When Marie emerged from her bedroom the rest of her family were already awake and bustling around the house. The sounds that they made as they opened cupboards and shut doors bounced off the walls and grated against Marie’s sore mind. Her headache continued to haunt her, lingering around with cruel intent making it hard for her to focus.
“You look how I feel,” Carol noted sourly as her daughter wandered listlessly in to the kitchen.
Carol Schneider had no colour so that her skin had become almost translucent as she sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of black coffee.
“I shouldn’t have had that last glass of Baileys,” she announced regretfully.
“You never could hold your drink,” Bill chided her, his appearance unaltered from the previous day’s drinking.
“You should have seen her on our wedding day,” he joked to Sebastian who was flicking through his iPad.
“She could barely stand up.”
“That’s not true,” Carol waved a dismissive hand and then winced as though the gesture pained her.
The reality was that Carol Schneider had been so drunk on her wedding day thanks to an endless stream of wine from well-meaning relatives that she’d concluded one of the most magical days of her life by vomiting all over her perfect white dress. It was an event she preferred not to recall.
“You alright love?” Luckily Bill was distracted by Marie so he couldn’t access the far reaches of his memory and uncover the truth about his wife’s drunken state on the day they exchanged vows.
Marie nodded and sat down at the kitchen table across from her mother.
“You look pale,” Carol noted, momentarily forgetting her own discomfort and leaning forward to further scrutinise her daughter.
“I’ve just got this headache,” Marie waved her hand across her temple and looked despondently at the table.
“Have you taken something?”
“Everything,” Marie sighed. The pain continued to bite between her eyes, extending its sharp reach and causing her jaw to ache.
Bill threw a worried look to his wife which she missed.
“You just need to rest,” Carol concluded. “Perhaps you should leave going back to London until you feel better.”
Sebastian’s eyes shot up from his iPad screen when he heard this.
“We really need to get back today,” he said assertively.
“Surely it could wait one more day?” Carol pleaded.
“No, I don’t want to get caught in traffic.” A stern look settled over Sebastian’s handsome features which prevented Carol from pressing him further. She was too hung over to be able to engage in a full blown argument.
“I’ll be alright,” Marie shrugged. “I’ll just sleep in the car.”
“I’d better go pack some things. What time are we leaving?” Bill placed down his now empty mug and looked at Sebastian.
“We?” Marie looked bemused. “Dad, why are you coming to London?”
Bill froze with panic. What should he say? Marie was still oblivious to the scheduled appointment with Dr Colton. If she knew about it she might refuse to return to London all together.
Luckily Sebastian stepped in and coolly explained;
“He’s helping me bring back some of your stuff from home, to help you feel more comfortable back at your apartment.”
“Oh.” Marie’s shoulders dropped as she seemingly accepted the response. “That’s a long way to go, Dad. How will you get back?”
“Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart,” Bill smiled warmly. “The most important thing is that you are alright.”
“Okay,” Marie pushed her chair back and stood up. Her legs still ached and she was careful not to move too swiftly.
“I’m going to go on the computer for a bit,” she explained.
The Schneiders owned one main family computer which they kept in their spare bedroom, which they dubbed the study. When Marie wasn’t home the computer remained relatively unused though Carol and Bill would turn it on to occasionally Skype with their daughter though they continued to struggle with the influx of new technology invading their lives.
Bill didn’t trust technology. Marie had begged him for months to allow her to get the computer. She’d needed it for her studies whilst at college. Eventually he conceded but he was never truly comfortable with its presence. Bill was convinced that one day machines would rise up and take over the Earth. Each night before he went to bed he made a quick visit to the study where he removed the computer’s plug from the wall and breathed a sigh of relief.
Bill watched Marie leave and then shot a distrusting glance at the iPad Sebastian was currently absorbed with. In his eyes, technology served to only pull people further away from one another, not draw them together.
“I need a shower,” Carol sighed, also getting up and departing the kitchen leaving the two men of the house alone.
“Will you be ready to leave around eleven?” Sebastian asked, flicking his glance only briefly away from the illuminated screen of the iPad.
Bill averted his gaze to check the clock. It was half past nine in the morning.
“Yeah, eleven should be good.”
“Okay,” Sebastian nodded and the older man realised that he was gripping his beloved gadget with such intensity that his knuckles were becoming white.
“You feeling okay about everything?” Bill enquired gently.
Sebastian stiffened and tightened his grip on his iPad. The screen was filled with news stories which he wasn’t even reading. Nothing seemed able to hold his attention. He just needed to feel like he was doing something, anything, to distract him from what lay ahead.
“I’m just…” Sebastian placed his gadget down on the kitchen table and sighed. “I’m nervous.” He admitted.
“Me too,” Bill nodded and sat down at the table. Above them the pipes hissed to life as Carol turned on
the shower and tried to wash away the fatigue which was enveloping her like a heavy cloak.
“But it’s got to be done,” Sebastian stated, trying to convince himself more than Bill. “I mean, you heard how she talked about that place. She thinks it’s real.”
“Yeah,” Bill looked troubled. He kept wondering how the world had managed to change so much without him noticing.
One minute Marie was a sweet, innocent little girl who thought he was larger than life. As a little girl it was adorable when she’d announce that she was a princess of some far away land. She’d sit up on her bed and state that it was her castle and all over her bedroom floor she arranged her Barbie Dolls and Sylvanians to make up her loyal subjects.
She’d insist that Carol and Bill treat her as royalty and they readily obliged, bringing the little princess glasses of juice and perpetuating the game of make believe.
But Marie stopped being a little girl. At some point she grew in to a young woman, right under Bill’s nose and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. However, now when Marie announced that she was a princess it was a cause for concern. It was no longer a sweet game of pretend it suggested something far more sinister; it suggested that his beloved little girl was losing her mind.
“Dr Colton will know how to treat her,” Sebastian said with a little too much confidence.
“I hope so,” Bill cleared his throat awkwardly. “What worries me more than anything is these people she believes approach her. That scares me. She could end up putting herself in a dangerous situation.”
“That’s why we are getting her the help she needs,” Sebastian stated emphatically. “It worries me too. I keep wondering what will happen next. What if these people she imagines start telling her to do strange things?”
Bill’s mouth drew in to a sharp line.
“She’s already been through so much,” he sighed.
“She’ll get through this, she’s strong.”
“Mmm,” Bill raised his hands and began to crack his knuckles, a habit he always employed whenever he was tense or nervous.
“I keep thinking about the day of the accident,” he admitted. “How it felt like the world ended when we got that phone call that she was in the hospital and we should come right away. I’ve never been so scared.”
“But she pulled through, and she’ll pull through this.”
“We can’t lose her,” Bill looked directly in to Sebastian’s eyes, his gaze intense. “She’s our world.”
“She’s mine too,” Sebastian agreed. “We’re not going to lose her, we’re going to bring her back.”
“I hope so.”
*
Outside the air grew colder and the heavens released the first few flakes of snow which became caught on brittle winds and thrust down towards the earth. The erratic dance of their descent was brief. The snowflakes twirled and looped before suddenly connecting with a car, a bush, a bare tree branch. Their movement was abruptly ceased as they reached their finally resting place and waited for others to join them.
Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a purple towel around her hair Carol noticed the flurry of white dander bouncing around beyond the bathroom window. Stepping close to see through the steam she noticed with a surge of excitement that it was snowing.
Marie loved the snow. She’d have snow ball fights with local children and lie out in the small garden making snow angel patterns on her back.
Carol was less quick to welcome the icy confetti. She found snow to be difficult and cumbersome. Once she’d slipped on a supermarket car park in the snow and broken her hip. Ever since then she’d been cautious of the white flakes and tried to avoid them as much as possible. But this time, seeing the arrival of snow made her smile. She was still smiling as she opened the window and glanced outside for clarification that yes, indeed it was snowing. Already it was quite heavy, a slight sheet of white starting to pull across the world outside.
The snow meant that Marie surely couldn’t return to London. That she could stay just a little while longer. Carol wished that her daughter would stay forever though she knew that would never happen. But she’d gratefully accept a few extra days.
Once her damp skin was dry Carol pulled on her dressing gown and hurried out of the bathroom, heading across the landing and calling out for her daughter.
“Marie!”
“Marie, it’s snowing? Have you seen?”
She looked briefly out of the small window located on the landing, noticing that the snow was struggling to stick upon the slightly damp earth.
“Stick,” she willed it. “Stick and keep my daughter here. She’s safe here.”
More snowflakes were released from the clouds like reluctant parachute jumpers, pushed from their safety net and sent cascading to the ground. Each one was different and unique yet they were all destined to suffer the same fate. To either melt or unite as one and create pure, perfect snow.
*
“Marie? I said it’s snowing,” Carol peered round the door to the study and found Marie curled up on the office chair staring intently at the illuminated monitor. The rest of the room was filled with shadows making the images on the screen appear even brighter.
“Marie?” Carol edged further in to the room as Marie spun around and looked at her. “Did you hear me say it’s snowing?”
“It is?” Marie responded with disinterest. There was a vacant look in her eyes which troubled Carol. Glancing past her daughter she focused on the computer screen.
On it there was an image of a man in his mid to late thirties with sharp cheekbones and a severe expression.
“What are you reading?”
“Nothing,” with a click of the mouse Marie swiftly minimised the page she was looking at.
“You seemed awfully interested in it,” Carol kept looking at the monitor even though the image in the man was now gone.
“It was nothing, really,” Marie insisted.
“Okay, well perhaps we can go out and walk in the snow?” Carol moved forward and pulled open the curtains in the room, revealing the air outside which shimmered with snowflakes. They swirled and danced in flurries like tiny ice fairies.
Marie squinted at the sudden influx of light, shielding her eyes as though she were some sort of nocturnal creature.
“What do you say? Shall we go outside?” Carol’s eyes twinkled hopefully as she waited on her daughter’s decision.
“Maybe later,” Marie answered quietly, turning back to the computer.
*
“It’s really coming down out there,” Bill stamped his feet on the doormat as he re-entered his home. White specks of snow still clung to his hair and broad shoulders.
“How bad is it?” Sebastian enquired anxiously. The hallway was already filled with an assortment of luggage which needed to be loaded up in to his car, ready for the return journey to London.
“Pretty bad,” Bill stated. “Visibility isn’t great. It’s not sticking yet though.”
“So if we want to go we’d better leave sooner rather than later?”
“Exactly.”
“So where is Marie? Is she ready?” Sebastian glanced up the stairs as he spoke. He was more than ready. Freshly showered and dressed in a Ralph Lauren jumper and jeans he was as prepared as he could be to take Marie to Dr Colton’s office.
“She’s still upstairs.”
“I’ll go have a word with her, see if I can hurry her up a bit.” Sebastian sprung up the stairs two at a time his long legs making the task easy for him.
Bill looked after him and sighed. From her position in the living room Carol caught his eye and he shook his head.
“We can’t delay it anymore,” he told her sadly.
“But look at this snow, Bill! It can’t be safe to drive in this.”
“But is it safe to leave Marie any longer? We’re losing her.”
Carol clasped her hands in her lap and lowered her head thoughtfully. She willed the snow outside to intensify and create a bloc
kage outside her front door, sealing them all inside.
“I know you want her to stay here,” Bill removed his coat and boots and entered the welcome warmth of the living room. Even though he’d only walked down the street to check the conditions his cheeks were already bright pink from being pinched by the cold.
He sat down beside his wife of almost thirty years and placed a consolatory hand upon her knee.
“This is her home, Bill. We shouldn’t send her back to London when she’s not well.”