Finding Eden

by Camilla Beavers

  “No,” he says after what feels like forever, “I just want to be your friend, that's all.”

  “My friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugs.

  “No, seriously,” I feel like I'm interrogating him, “why be friends with me, someone who obviously isn't interested, when you could be friends with all the popular kids who obviously want you around?”

  “Because all of those other people don't interest me,” he says a bit too intensely. Goosebumps rise up on my neck.

  “And I do?” I try not to sound breathless.

  “To a degree, yes,” he tries to be nonchalant about it, but I can hear, buried deep in his voice, that the words he's using don't quite cover it.

  “Why?”

  “Just something about you I guess,” He shrugs, the intensity gone, “mind if I walk you to your car?”

  “Uh,” I don't know what to say, “Sure? I guess.”

  I look away from him and shake my head. He walks slightly behind me, and when I look back at him I can see him looking around, as if searching for something, or someone.

  “Mind if I ask what you're looking for?” He's sparked my curiosity.

  “Just paranoid,” he says, making it clear he'd rather not explain.

  “I don't understand you at all,” I shake my head.

  “Most don't,” he smiles at me.

  We reach my car and we both stand there for a few seconds.

  “Well, I guess I'm going to head home,” I open the driver’s side door, “do you need a lift anywhere?”

  “No, but thank you,” he says and begins to walk away, “I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” I say, “see you tomorrow.”

  I hop into my car and drive home. What is his deal? Why does he constantly follow me around? Most of the time he annoys me beyond belief, but there are small moments when I feel absolute awe about him, and it annoys me even more because I can't figure out why I feel that way. The old brain lady cackles and plows.

  Everyday it's been the same thing with him. Show up, have Sahariel follow me, fall over something that doesn't exist, get laughed at and then leave school alone. And somewhere in that mash up, I look at Sahariel and I get lost. Then rinse and repeat. Unfortunately.

  Chapter Six

  I don't know what it is about him. I think about the weeks Sahariel has been following me and I just get frustrated. Even during lunch, my time with Evaughn and Brock, I think about Sahariel's odd behavior. They've quickly adapted to his presence, not thinking anything of it, but I can't stop thinking about it, and it puts me in a foul mood. A mood that, believe me, Brock and Evaughn have noticed.

  “Stop being such a grouch all the time,” Evaughn says after I snap at her.

  “Sorry,” I say and try to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I can see in her colors that she's beginning to get mad at me. Evaughn doesn't get mad too often, and when she does, it really takes a lot of provocation.

  The rest of the lunch period is silent. I'm annoyed and everyone is annoyed at me, except for Sahariel. I don't know what he is feeling, except for when the string between up is plucked, and I can sense the remnants of some strong emotion he's had. Lunch ends and we all part ways, except for Sahariel and me. My life seems to have changed to fit Sahariel now. He's become a part of me, at school anyway.

  We walk to art in silence. Sahariel's begun to walk next to me, rather than behind. We almost look like friends, if only we were having a conversation, but we walk in silence. I rarely make an attempt to talk to him, and whenever I do I feel like I'm interrogating him, and today I don't feel like doing that.

  I set up my things and Sahariel sets up right next to me. I leave my painting covered, unwilling to admit to myself that I haven't finished a painting that I started months ago.

  “You’re having trouble finishing your painting, aren't you?” Sahariel asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, “it's her eyes. I can't finish her eyes.”

  “Some cultures believe that painting someone’s eyes captures their entire soul in the painting, and their soul is doomed to live eternity staring out at the world they can no longer join, never knowing true rest.”

  “You know you're a bit of a downer, right?”

  He shrugs.

  “Besides,” he says, “you're painting your mother, a woman you don't remember. Are you really willing to paint all of her and allow people who have no tie to her know the same amount about her that you do? Leave something to the imagination. Make her a mystery to others like she was once a mystery to you.”

  I look from him to my canvas and finally figure out what to do. I repaint her hair to blow into her eyes, the sun sitting behind her, and casting shadows on the front of her face. She turns from an unfinished painting into a mysterious woman you wish you knew. I sit back once I'm done and feel oddly at peace.

  I stand and grab the painting and hand it to Miss Brody.

  “Wow, Eden,” she says, “what made you decide to change the presentation?”

  “Something someone said to me about mystery,” I say and return to my seat.

  I glance over at Sahariel's painting as he uncovers it, and what I see leaves me breathless.

  On the canvas is a collection of colors that, ordinarily, wouldn't make you look twice, but the way Sahariel's put them together, he's created a beautiful landscape that's detailed to perfection.

  A pink and lavender sunset is dotted with fluffy clouds that glow violet in the sky. Blades of emerald green grass flourish beneath the canopies of golden leafed trees as wildflowers, colored red, orange, yellow and white, grow across the field.

  I stare at the painting left completely breathless by its beauty.

  “Is that a real place?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  “To you?” He says quietly, “No. But to me, yes. Very much so. This is the place I go when I feel lost.”

  “I wish I could go there,” I sigh quietly.

  “One day you may learn how,” he smiles sadly.

  “And you speak as though it's a real place.”

  “Like I said,” he looks back at his painting, “it's real to me.”

  His voice is sad, almost lonely sounding. Like he's alone and is carrying the world on his shoulders. But I'm not certain. I can't see his colors and at this very moment it's killing me.

  “I'm sorry,” I say and reach out toward him, wanting to comfort him.

  Before my fingers can even think about brushing his shoulder, he moves away uncomfortably. Hurt and rejection quickly wash through me withering my hope seeds. I'm only left with annoyance and anger. I glare at him but I don't know if he notices.

  “I don't know what it is with you,” I say angrily.

  “What?” He sounds confused.

  “You follow me around like you like me, like you want to be close to me, but when I make a move to simply touch you, you move away, like I disgust you. I don't understand you at all. What is your problem?” I whisper hotly.

  “You do not disgust me,” he simply states and shakes his head, “it would just be inappropriate if I did.”

  “Inappropriate?” I ask with strong confusion.

  “Yes,” he doesn't say anymore and I can tell he's done with the conversation.

  I don't want to sit here any longer. I throw the sheet over my canvas and chuck my supplies into the tackle box at my feet. I make my way to the door without saying anything.

  “Eden,” Miss Brody stops me, “are you alright?”

  “Not particularly,” I say, “I'm not feeling well. I'm going to give my dad a call then head home.”

  “Alright,” she smiles, “I hope you feel better.”

  “Me too,” I say, the whole time trying to keep the anger out of my voice.

  I walk out of the class and close the door behind myself. Before it closes, I can hear Sahariel excuse himself as he's putting his things away. Is he really going to follow me right out of the middle of class?


  I'm almost to the doors that lead to the parking lot when I feel him suddenly behind me. It makes me feel like stabbing brain lady and salting the fields.

  “What do I have to say to get you to go away?” I turn, practically yelling, “Do I have to order you to do it or something?”

  He doesn't say anything. All he does is stand there and look at me and I know I've hit the answer. I smile.

  “Wait,” he says suddenly, “you don't want to do this.”

  “Why is that?” I ask.

  “Because it will be bad.”

  “Right.”

  “Please listen to me,” he almost sounds like he's pleading.

  “No,” I say angrily, “my life was relatively normal before you showed up. Then one day you get here and decide to make my life hell. For what reason, I don't know, but I want my life back. So that's it Sahariel,” I step a little closer to him, “I don't like you stalking behind me, shadowing my every move. So stop following me, Sahariel. That's an order.”

  I can see it in his eyes. He's torn between following orders and not. I know he doesn't want to follow them, that's plain to see without being able to see his colors. Slowly, his resolve crumbles and I'm surprised when, without anything but a bow, he turns and walks away from me.

  I walk him walk away. With each step he takes I feel a pull, a tug on the invisible string, and an odd compulsion to follow him surges through me. I stifle the feeling and push it down, and as soon as I do I can't help but feel elated that I'm finally being left alone. Triumphantly, I walk through the doors out to the parking lot and go home.

  The next day I walk into the school with a smile on my face.

  “Someone looks happy,” Evaughn comments, her aura shining a tranquil and happy glow, hinting at the same elated feeling that I have at the moment.

  “Very happy indeed,” I say to her smiling, “I was finally able to get rid of him.”

  “Get rid of who?” She asks.

  “My living shadow,” I say, then clarifying, “Sahariel.”

  “Oh,” she mouths.

  “It's so nice not to have someone following me around all the time. You have no idea.”

  “I kind of liked having him around,” she says with a shrug, her colors betraying her dismay at the news.

  In my mind I try not to agree with her and I sit down in my seat.

  I try to pay attention, but my eyes keep wandering over to the empty seat next to me. I stare at it wondering if he changed his whole schedule or if he's decided to skip class entirely. I'm so distracted by the thoughts running through my mind I don't hear the question the teacher asks me, brain lady weeping at her ruined fields.

  “Eden,” the teacher says my name at the same time Evaughn kicks the back of my seat.

  “Hmm?” I glance at the teacher and then realize she's just asked me a question.

  “Sorry,” my eyes finally focus on my teacher, “could you repeat the question please?”

  She does, and I'm unable to answer it. I sigh. I don't want to be here. Looking at the teacher neither does she. Damn geology.

  Chapter Seven

  I'm asleep and I'm dreaming, and in my dream I'm falling. I'm falling so fast that I can't make out the shapes that are whizzing past me. I don't know why I'm falling. I didn't jump, I wasn't pushed, I just started out this way; just falling way too fast. The worst part isn't that I'm falling; it isn't even that I can't find anything to grab onto. The worst part is, is that no one is there to catch me, not even Sahariel. That's the most frightening part. I'm by myself.

  I don't know if I hit the ground in my dream. I wake up panting and covered in sweat, my heart pounding out a disjointed rhythm so loud it makes my ears hurt and my mind race about whether I remembered my pill. I don't like this dream. It frightens me too much.

  I started having this dream a few days after I ordered Sahariel to stop following me. I've had this dream every night since then. Every night for two weeks. After I wake up from it, I can't go back to sleep. I'm too scared and alone. I haven't slept that much and now I look like crap.

  The little red numbers on the clock next to the bed mock me as they tell me the time. I swear I can almost hear the electronic snickering as the numbers read three in the morning loud and clear. After laying there for an hour longer, I eventually give up and turn on the television.

  There's nothing on aside from awkward workout videos and laughable infomercials. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I cycle through the channels, they don't change or get any better.

  It's official. I am now an insomniac. I am so tired but I can't sleep. My body is plagued with that awful falling feeling every time I close my eyes for more than a few seconds and brain lady is still weeping.

  “God,” I moan and rub my face, “I hate this.”

  I don't know where the hell this dream came from, but I wish it would go away.

  Return to sender.

  Do. Not. Want.

  Instead of lying in bed all morning, I decide to get up and take a bath, and for the first time in what seems like forever, I'm filling the tub with hot water and adding bubble bath. I undress and step into the tub, and soon I'm relaxing in sweet smelling bubbles and hot water.

  I spend the rest of the morning in the tub, and when the time comes for me to get out, I don't want to. I stare at the clock in the bathroom for a long time wishing I didn't have to go to school, but I do. I finally decide to get out and get ready, quickly dressing and leaving the house before I change my mind and stay home.

  The drive to school is slow and lazy. I take the long route to school, hoping beyond hope that I don't get to school with extra time to spare. If that happens then I will just start thinking about Sahariel, and that just isn't good. I get to school and pull into a parking spot. As luck would have it, Evaughn is already there, standing at the doors like a welcoming beacon of light.

  “You look like crap,” she says.

  “Thanks,” I say, “I feel like crap.”

  “Are you doing okay?”

  “Not really,” I shake my head, “I've been having bad dreams lately, and they've been keeping me up.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” She asks as we step through the doorway into the hallway.

  “Not really,” I say.

  “Alright.”

  We walk into class together and sit in our seats, giving us time to talk before class starts.

  “You know what you need?” Evaughn says after a few seconds of silence.

  “Sleep?”

  “No,” she shakes her head.

  “Then what?” I ask.

  “You need,” she opens her bag and drags out a flier, “a trip to the carnival!”

  She flips open the paper and holds it in front of my face, sort of like a prize kill or a trophy of sorts. I can tell that she's proud of herself for coming up with the idea, especially since it hasn't been well advertised.

  “Sounds great, Evaughn.” I smile at her and she beams. Her excitement is contagious and I can't help but look forward to it.

  “So when are we going?” I ask right before class starts.

  “I was thinking today after school,” she says, “since it is Friday and all. Wouldn't have to worry about staying out too late or anything.”

  “Alright,” I say, “do you want to carpool or just drive separately?”

  “How about we carpool? I can pick you up after school after I change out of this horrible uniform. I haven't been able to hang out with you in forever”

  “Alright,” I say, “just give me enough time to change and everything should be fine. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  The day goes by quickly, the anticipation for the carnival building as the time goes by. During lunch we all sit together. Brock is being his usual talkative self. At least the conversation is interesting. Or at least keeps me from feeling like it.

  “Holy crap,” Brock says mid-sentence.

  “What is it?” I ask and look around the room, not caring that
I don't have my sunglasses on and ignoring it when my eyes begin to water.

  “Look,” Brock points behind me, “Sahariel must not be sleeping well either. He looks like crap.”

  I turn around quickly and my eyes get assaulted with all the colors. He's standing in the doorway by himself. His shoulders are hunched, as if he's caving in on himself. His hair is limp and he has dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks. He looks like crap. He looks like me.

  As if he can feel my gaze, Sahariel's eyes reach mine. He looks so tired. I give him a small smile, but nothing more. He nods slightly, recognizing me, but makes no move to come over to me. I frown as he turns in place and leaves. What is he doing?

  “Well, that was weird,” Brock says.

  “Yeah,” I say and turn back toward the table.

  “So, anyway,” Brock breaks the awkward silence.

  “Alright,” Evaughn says, “school gets out at three, so I will pick you up at around 3:30 and then we can meet up with Brock at 4?”

  “Sure,” I say and smile, trying really hard to be upbeat. I want to be happy.

  “Sounds good to me,” Brock says as the bell rings.

  “Alright, see you guys then,” I say and gather my things and head to class.

  During art class I'm feeling lonely. I sit in my usual spot, but I don't paint. I don't even look at my canvas. I'm just sort of preoccupied with the fact that somehow I wasn't able to feel Sahariel's presence earlier. Maybe I didn't feel him because I'm so tired. I almost feel like I can't feel anything.

  “Eden.”

  I jump.

  Miss Brody is standing next to me. Where the hell did she come from?

  “Are you feeling alright? You haven't painted anything new in weeks.”

  “Yeah,” I smile at her, “I'm fine, just a little tired is all.”

  “Alright,” she says and walks away.

  I can't help it. I just can't stop thinking about Sahariel. What happened to him this whole time? That was the first time I had seen him in two weeks. What did he do about his classes? Did he reschedule or is he just not caring?