by Unknown
Lying there with the fuzzy white cat, her warmth pressed on my chest, it was comforting. Enough that, with her rumbling sounds vibrating through my skin, I fell asleep in minutes.
* * * *
Everything was black and blue as a bruise. The world I saw, it blinded me until I could do nothing, go no where, to escape the terror encroaching on me. I was drowning, sinking under as the water filled my mouth and inflated my lungs.
The only reason I knew I was dreaming... was because of him.
Brandon grabbed my hand, he was the only thing that wasn't made of shadows in my world. Holding me tight, he clawed at me to take me to the surface. I knew if I got there, I'd be okay.
We'd both be okay.
We'd break into the air, we'd breathe together. Nothing would ever hurt us again.
I knew that.
So why couldn't I ever reach the surface?
Gasping, my eyes shot open in the dark. Outside, the deep thrum of thunder growled like a beast. My blankets were soaked from my sweat. I lay there for a long minute.
That nightmare, I wish I'd stop having it.
At the same time, it was the only way I could ever see Brandon. Lifting my hand, I wiped away the tears I knew were there. Angel was gone, leaving me alone in my damp robe. What time is it, has it been raining long?
Shifting, I turned my head with the goal of staring out my window. I only wanted to see how bad the downpour was. The hard rattling on the ancient roof convinced me I'd need to find a bucket or two for leaks, if it was as bad as it sounded.
Trembling, I squinted across the room. The glass was dark, it made me consider getting up to press myself on it. I didn't want to, my muscles were weak from nerves. If I hid under my bed, would I feel any better? A shard of lightning lit up the night sky. It turned everything purple, illuminating many things.
But I was only gaping at one of them.
There, looking at me intently with the same green eyes he'd always had...
Brandon.
He was looking through the window.
Looking at me.
For a long moment, we stared at each other. Then, as the lightning glow faded, I was left with nothing but a black window. Throwing myself off the bed, I slammed into the window frame so hard it shook the panes. Outside, I saw only the wet grass and waving bushes.
Am I crazy? Did I really just—was it possible I—no, no, I'm sure I saw him!
I had to know, needed to know. My legs raced to take me out my front door. Angel yowled at me as I went past, but I didn't slow down. Not even outside. My bare feet slipping in mud, rain soaking my cheeks... even then, I didn't hesitate.
Around the side of the building where my bedroom window was, I wrenched my eyes side to side. Hungrily, I searched the area, turning in place like a wild animal. “Brandon?” I called tentatively. Then, more forcefully, “Brandon! Brandon, where are you?”
There was no answer.
Soaked to the bone, the thunder laughing above, I felt foolish. It had to have been a dream. Nothing else makes sense.
Shivering, I hugged my sopping robe close. Wandering back inside, once more ignoring Angel as she danced around my feet, I left a dripping path to my bathroom. My skull felt too small, my brain aching with confusion. He looked older, did I actually imagine an older version of Brandon Beck? It didn't seem possible. But, then...
Neither did seeing the face of my dead boyfriend.
Chapter 4
Besides a slight sniffle, something cured decently by a hot cup of peppermint tea and a cat warming my lap at breakfast, I had no lingering affects from my night encounter.
That is, besides the lingering feeling I hadn't imagined it. What's worse, going crazy, or actually seeing someone who should be dead?
The rain had stopped, but the day was more grey than gravel as I jogged towards my campus. While I was blessed that my grandpa was kind enough to take care of me—I suspected he felt responsible with my mother, his daughter, gone—he couldn't afford to keep me in the dorms. I didn't mind, living on my own was nicer.
Even if the apartment isn't the best, it's still better than living with a stranger.
Avoiding a puddle, I hurried through the doors of the main building. Skidding on the tile, losing traction, I bumped gently into Mark as I rounded a corner. “Oh!” I gasped, stumbling backwards.
“Sorry, sorry!” Laughing, he caught my arm, keeping me from falling.
Blushing, I looked pointedly at his hand, trying to remove myself gently. He got the hint, letting me go with an embarrassed cough. “Really, sorry about that. I was waiting out here to give you your notebook back, is all.”
“It's alright. I should have been paying more attention.”
“This rain,” he said. “It makes everything so slippery.”
Smoothing the front of my jacket, I gave an empathic nod. “The rain is awful, yes.” On that, we can agree.
Mark looked me over, then dug into his backpack. When he offered me my notebook, I took it gratefully. “Did you get everything you needed?”
“Yeah,” he said with a wide smile. “I definitely did. Uh, alright. I'll let you get to class, I need to run.”
“Don't slip,” I teased, waving at him as he began walking backwards. Mark flapped his arms, mock-stumbling. He ran off with another gesture of farewell.
I watched him go, wondering what to make of his antics. Is he flirting, or am I overall insane and imagining that, too? Pushing into my classroom, I took the nearest empty desk.
Public Speaking was one of, if not the, most boring classes possible. I tuned out most of what my teacher said, all the way until he wanted us to start taking down notes.
Covering my mouth to stifle a yawn, I flipped the pages of my notebook open... and gawked.
There, written in perfect blue ink, was a phone number. This is... Mark wrote down his number for me. Oh, what the hell does this say... Squinting, my face flushed, I read his plea to get in touch with him. There was a party that night out in the desert, and he wanted me to go with him.
Slamming the book shut, I stared straight ahead in horror. I guess I know if he was flirting for sure or not. Great. Fantastic.
The rest of class, I couldn't focus enough to bother writing anything down. What was I supposed to do about this? I could go to the party, but I don't want Mark to get the wrong idea. Ugh, this is a dumb thing to stress out about.
Gathering my items as the bell rang, I ran out the door. I didn't have a plan, not exactly. Vanishing off the campus seemed the logical step. Maybe I could go home, hide under my blankets. Forget about everything.
I slowed down, the cool evening air and the grey skies in stark contrast to my boiling mind. Is that really my solution? Hide from Mark, hide from everything?
Coming to a sudden halt, I ignored the students that shuffled around me on the cement walkway. Running would be so easy. But I'd have to face him eventually. I don't know if it's the best decision, but... but maybe I'll just tell Mark straight out that I don't think of him that way.
Frowning, I dug my phone from my pocket. Seeing it wasn't exactly helpful. It was a newer device, my old one having been lost weeks ago. Mark had been a saint, telling me about a brand that would let me register it online. It would let me track my phone if I ever lost it again, a fact I'd used once already when I dropped it in my couch cushions.
My jaw went tight. Stop feeling like you owe him something. Nip this in the rear, right now. Do it, Fiona.
The ringer in my ear was too fast. I'd hoped for a moment to prepared myself more, to steel my nerves. Instead he was there, talking rapidly. “Fiona! Hey! Hi! I'm so glad you called! I guess you got my note, or I mean, that is why—you are calling cause—”
“Mark,” I blurted, ending his ramble. “Listen, uh.”
“I'm seriously so happy you're coming tonight. How about I pick you up around seven? Or do you want to drive yourself? This is going to be so much fun, there's supposed to be a fire pit and music and someone's going
to bring beer for sure. Or do you not drink? Do you drink Fiona?”
My mouth opened, no sound exiting.
Oh my gosh he is so excited, how do I say no?
And the answer was... I didn't. “I'll drive myself, don't worry.”
“Okay okay, cool! I'll just give you the directions.”
I was relieved he couldn't see me covering my eyes, or how I hung my head. “Yup, go ahead.”
What have I gotten myself into?
* * * *
The road was dark, it had been for some time. I'd figured the party would be pretty far out in the desert, but still, the silent stretch of dunes around me was unsettling. I felt like I was crossing into another world, an alien planet. I'd been in Arizona for a few months, it was the school I'd chosen after dealing with awful panic attacks living with my Grandpa in South Dakota.
I just hated rain, and hated explaining why.
Though, even this place can't escape the dumb weather, I thought with frustration. My mood was sour, I couldn't blame anyone but myself. If I'd been stronger, more determined, I could have told Mark I wasn't going to go.
I need to grow a backbone.
Rounding a corner, I spotted the haze of orange light out on the azure sand. The party was behind some taller dunes. Guiding my car over the packed ground, I spotted the other vehicles where they were partially hidden from the road.
It wasn't the most secret place, but everyone knew the cops wouldn't bother coming out this far to tangle with dumb college kids. They weren't paid enough to deal with us.
Turning off the engine, I unclicked my seat belt... then simply sat there in the dark. Stop it, just go out there and have some fun. You need to try that, you shouldn't be grieving after all this time. You're eighteen, go act like it.
Gritting my teeth, I opened the door violently.
Sand dusted around my shoes, trying to slow me down. I was grateful for it, anything that delayed my confrontation with Mark was helpful. Rounding the shadow of the dunes, the flickering fire made me shield my eyes. I didn't have a second to survey the gathered people before his voice shouted out. “Fiona! Hey! You made it!”
Mark virtually ran to me, a beer bottle grasped tight. When he leaned in to hug me, I could smell it on his breath. How much has he had? “Hey,” I answered, smiling uneasily. I'd dressed in a tight blue sweater and faded jeans. It'd seemed innocuous, but now, as he ran his eyes over me, I felt vulnerable. “Um, lot of people here, huh?”
“Yeah.” Glancing back at the crowd, the music pumping from an old CD player, he laughed. “Seems everyone who knew someone was invited. Nice though. Hey, let me get you a drink.” He grabbed my wrist, tugging me over to the coolers.
“Oh, no, it's fine.” His fingers held on tighter than he had any right to. I didn't think he was actually drunk until he turned, open bottle in hand, spilling it across my front. “Oh my gosh!” I shouted, jumping backwards.
Mark stood there, his surprise dulled. Both his hands were in the air, gripping the two drinks like he was under arrest. “Fiona—I—I'm so sorry!”
Unsure what else to do, I made myself laugh. It was a broken, baffled sound, but I could see that it relaxed him. “Don't worry about it. This is an old shirt anyway.” It wasn't. “Uh, guess I will take that beer.” Might as well, since I'm wearing most of it.
Smiling shyly, he handed the bottle to me. It was hard for me to be angry. Any hope I'd had of explaining to Mark, right away, that I wasn't interested in him... it faded when he clinked his drink on mine. “Cheers,” he said brightly. “I'm really glad you made it out.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I am, too.” How weird, but it's true. Now that I'm out here with the stars above, this giant fire, all these people... it feels kind of nice. I'd had a hard time getting close to anyone over the years. They always want to know where you're from, what your parents do, things like that.
Things I refused to discuss.
Mark hadn't asked any of that, not yet. But I knew he would eventually. Maybe it's time I learned to talk about it. To just explain where I come from.
To Explain The flood that ruined it all.
Taking a long gulp of the bitter drink, I savored the taste.
“Hey, come on,” Mark said suddenly. “Come meet some people.”
Inhaling deeply, I gave him a nod. “Okay, sure.” Just do it, just try!
Between the music and alcohol, the awkwardness of new people prying into my history never happened. The group was too drunk, too carefree, to worry about who I was. A bunch even got my name wrong.
That made me feel much better.
It took me another beer before I was actually having fun. Dancing around the fire with Mark, seeing everyone just smiling, it made me forget why I had been so scared of coming to the party.
But then Mark reached out, taking my hand and pulling me. “This way, I want to show you something.” I set my empty drink down in the sand, letting him guide me away from the orange glow. Around the stark shadows of the dunes, Mark and I walked for longer than made sense.
Where is he taking me?
When we could no longer see or hear the party, he stopped. “It's nice out here, isn't it?”
Turning my head, I scanned our surroundings. The sand faded into hills and trees, the area becoming less a desert, more a sparse forest. The best thing, in my opinion, were the stars in the sky. I was glad the rain clouds had vanished. “It is, yeah. Um. What did you want to show me?” Why are we out here?
Mark faced me, his hands reaching for my shoulders. I was too slow, too sluggish and unprepared for his abrupt attempt to kiss me. Freezing up, my body became my enemy. He managed to close in, to start to put his beer-soaked lips on mine, before I shoved him away. “Hey!” I cried, gawking at him. “What are you doing!?”
He stumbled back, eyeing me like I was the crazy one who'd done something weird. “What the hell? What do you mean, what am I doing? Fiona, I was trying to kiss you.”
His anger was the first hint I had of any danger. “Mark, don't. I'm not—I'm not interested in you, in that.”
“No interested?” His laughter was cruel, raising goosebumps. “Then why the hell did you come out here tonight, why follow me this far if you didn't want something?”
Shaking my head, I tugged at my ponytail nervously. “Ugh, I wanted to tell you before, I just couldn't find the right time and—”
“No.”
Cut off, I gaped at him warily. “No?”
“No,” he repeated, stepping so close our noses almost touched. Wrenching backwards, to get away, his arms wrapped around my waist to stop me. “No, I think I get it. You're one of those girls who just needs a little encouragement.”
“Mark, stop it!” Shoving at him proved pointless. Easily, he tackled me down so we landed on the soft sand. “Mark, no, you're drunk! Just stop!” Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
The young man who I'd thought I could trust, that I'd been sure would be the one to suffer that night when I turned down his advances... he crushed me into the ground, hands roaming my body. I'd never had someone do anything like that to me. My gut reaction was to scream, to cry for help, but his mouth smothered me.
Help me, I begged mentally. Someone, notice we're gone!
I drove my knee up, catching him in the stomach. Mark grunted, sitting back enough so I could see his shock. “What are you doing?” he asked, slurring his words.
He's so drunk, but... but he shouldn't be doing this! Scrambling, I pushed at his shoulders. He was too heavy, too confident that he knew I wanted this. I don't, I don't, someone! “Get off, get away!” I finally shouted.
Mark didn't absorb my plea. I could tell from his eyes.
His wide palms held my skull, his lower half pressing me down. For a second, I thought about closing my eyes.
I was glad I hadn't.
If I'd shut my eyes, even for a moment, I'd have missed the sight of the person who appeared above us.
Green eyes, furious and wild, glinted in the dim lig
ht of the stars. Brandon, I thought in disbelief.
Mark was too out of it to notice how I stared over his shoulder. He wasn't dulled enough to not feel himself being yanked off of me, though.
“Hey!” he shouted, wrenched away in a single pull. Brandon did it so easily, so impossibly easily. Just like that, my attacker was thrown into the sand as if he weighed nothing.
Sitting up on my elbows, I was bathed in Brandon's shadow. It was only a moment, his face partially hidden by darkness. Right then, I knew I wasn't crazy.
Brandon Beck was alive.
He turned, stalking towards Mark in a way that reminded me disturbingly of an animal on the hunt. The dark jeans and thin, tan shirt that slid over his powerful body didn't help the image. The Brandon I'd known, he'd been a gangly boy that was all sinew and bone. Now, the years had left him filled out with rippling muscles. They flexed through his clothes, along his bare arms.
Mark climbed to his feet, sand drifting from his hair. “Hey, what the hell man!? This is none of your busi—” He never finished his sentence.
Brandon gripped him by the front of his shirt, ripping him upwards. Seeing how his toes hung down, not touching the ground, made me do a double-take. How is that possible? Is he really that strong? Sitting there, I looked on in wonderment.
The twisted face he made, teeth bared, was not the kind expression of the boy I'd known so long ago. “Listen to me carefully,” Brandon hissed. He gave Mark a shake, only stopping when the other man finally hung limp, eyes wide in fear and defeat. “You don't ever, ever go near her again. Do you understand?”
Mark licked his lips, making no sound other than labored breathing.
“Do you understand!?”
“Y—y—yes! Yes, I got it! Please, don't hurt me!”
As if Mark were trash, Brandon threw him aside. Turning away, his broad back faced me. I didn't think he'd actually looked at me during the whole encounter, but I was sure he knew who I was.
He had to.
“Brandon, wait!” Jumping up, strength and determination in my legs, I hurried to reach him. “Brandon, please! It's me, it's Fiona!”
There was a brief flinch, yet that was all. Fast, liquid in his movements, Brandon rushed across the sand until he vanished into the shadows of the trees lining the area.