These Starcrossed Lives of Ours

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These Starcrossed Lives of Ours Page 2

by Linski, Megan


  Or who I once belonged to. Not anymore.

  The realization that I was leaving Annabelle struck me like a train. Here I was, walking away like the past three years had never happened. I was leaving behind every chance I had of her ever loving me again, of ever having a life with her like she promised. This thought almost caused me to turn around and go back. If I returned now, I might get lucky and she wouldn’t punish me for trying to run.

  ...No. No, I wasn’t going to be a chained monster in a cage anymore. The way out was clear. I just had to take it.

  I had walked about a mile downtown before I got to the part of the city that I was afraid of. More uptown, there weren’t as many lights here and I wouldn’t see a hit coming until it was head on. Maybe I should’ve waited until day to make my escape. But the darkness was my friend, not my enemy. I needed it to cover my footsteps and make it so I wouldn’t be followed.

  My heart was so loud I’m surprised it didn’t wake the dead with every step I took. My hands shook nervously, but I tried to put my sights on the street light in front of me. Only a few more yards to go, and I was mostly home free. I could make it back to the house, grab my bag, and then get as far away from here as possible...

  I never saw the blow that caused me to go flying. Before I knew it I was down on the ground and millions of fists and kicks were delivered to my sides as I was physically hammered over and over.

  I curled up in a ball, trying to avoid the physical pain, leaving my shell of a soul unguarded. I didn’t care...I had become empty long ago. There was nothing that they could do to injure me further. I almost didn’t feel the punches and kicks as they came one by one by one, never ending until it felt like I had always been like this, been beat since I had come out of the womb.

  “Stop!” a voice ordered. “She’s had enough.”

  Everyone stepped back, save for a money-hungry boy whom I had known to join the cult only as an excuse to steal.

  “Look,” he said, and he reached in my pocket to pull out the cash. “She’s got a couple hundred with her.”

  Oh Ryan, I thought. If only she knew how much money you were keeping from her. You’d be just as dead as I’ll be.

  “Give it to me,” Annabelle ordered. She then knelt by my side, stroking my hair.

  “Poor little Christie,” Annabelle soothed.“You should know better.”

  What I would give to have her touch me again. They could beat me all they liked, just so long as she touched me again.

  “We have to teach her a lesson. A permanent one.” Annabelle stepped back and her affectionate face was gone to be replaced with one of rage and anger. “Kill her. No one betrays us and gets away with it.”

  No, Annabelle, I thought before the last hit came. You betrayed me.

  Chapter Two

  Christine

  When I awoke I thought that I might as well be in hell for all the pain that was quaking through my body. It had been a couple of hours since the ambush, judging by the stars in the sky. Morning was hours away and I could neither crawl to the nearest doorstep, nor did I have the capability to cry for help. As far as I could tell I didn’t have any broken bones, which astounded me. I could barely move my fingers without the agonizing pain, but my structure was intact. That part of me was alright.

  But I was bleeding, and bleeding badly from all over. If I didn’t stop the bleeding soon I would eventually die, and the police of Ann Arbor would have a murder case on their hands that they would never solve. Annabelle, being Annabelle, never got caught.

  I wonder why I had awoken moments before my death. Was it some divine prank? Haha Christine, you’ve got to stew in excruciating pain, knowing that any minute could be your last? Was it funny that I had to be hurt yet again by the person I had loved with all my heart, the only person whom I had ever loved or trusted completely?

  I hurt so much that I wished to whoever was listening that my death would come faster, so I wouldn’t have to hurt anymore. The world was becoming groggy...I passed in and out of focus, the world whirling and spinning like a great kaleidoscope. I was going to die in Ann Arbor, Michigan...I had always sworn that before I died, I would see another part of the world besides this town...

  I didn’t recognize the face that bent down to examine me as the world started to black out once again.

  “Miss? Miss, can you hear me?” a man asked, close to my ear. Merely whimpering in response, I tried to focus my attention on his features, but I could make none of them out. I felt so blind.

  “I’ve got to get you to a hospital. Who did this to you?”

  “Naugh!” I said, my voice barely understandable. “No...hospital!” If she found out I was alive she’d come after me again. I had to remain dead to her.

  “You’re injured! You don’t know what you’re saying!”

  “No! Leave me here if you’re taking me to a hospital! Please!” I moaned, the pain rippling through my torso.

  The stranger made an exasperated noise. “I have to get you off the streets. Hold on.”

  I cried out as he scooped me into his arms, but the voice I heard soothed me and created a wave in my soul, a part of me that hadn’t stirred for a long, long time.

  Maybe there’s hope, I thought before passing out.

  Ian

  She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. But this angel looked near death. She was sprawled on the sidewalk, her legs at all angles and her eyes staring vacantly out at nothing. Staring at what they could, anyway, through black eyes that were nearly swollen shut. Bruises mashed up the side of her face, swelling it out of proportion, and a large cut laced across her forehead. The cut was bleeding drastically, and blood had trickled into her hair. Her clothes were torn into shatters, hanging onto her by threads as she oozed from cuts that were spread all over her body. Whoever had hurt this girl wanted her dead, and they wanted her to suffer.

  And she had insisted before passing out that I didn’t take her to a hospital. She was afraid that whoever had hurt her would find her again. Though it seemed unlikely, some part of me was also afraid that if she saw a doctor, whoever had done this would come back and finish the job.

  I picked her up in my arms, ignoring the blood seeping onto my coat. I carried her to my truck and tucked her safely into the passenger’s seat, jumping in the driver’s side and speeding towards home, pulling out my cell phone.

  “Dad, I need your help,” I said. “There’s a girl I found, she’s badly hurt. Meet me at the apartment in a half hour.”

  “Son, what’s going on?” he asked, deeply concerned. I glanced over at the girl again. Her head was rolling against the window, smacking into it everytime we hit a bump.

  “Bring mom too,” I said as an afterthought. “She’s going to need to be cleaned up. Please hurry.” I hung up the phone before he could ask anymore questions and pulled the girl over to me so she was leaning against me, instead of smacking her head against the window over and over.

  “Hold on, angel,” I said, stepping on the gas and putting an arm around her so she’d stay close, safely against my shoulder. “You’re going to be alright.”

  Christine

  When I came to the very first thing I noticed was that I was bandaged up from head to toe. It still hurt to move, but not as much. I was lying on a couch with a blanket over me. Head pounding, I dared to open my eyes all the way.

  He was sitting across from me in a sort of stalkerish, yet concerned sort of way, looking intently at me as if I was the most important thing in the room. Now that I was fully conscious I could see his features plainly...bright blonde hair, sea-blue eyes, and rosy red cheeks. I tried to ignore the beaming smile he wore on his face as I came to. He looked like the sort of guy who went around hugging people for fun, if there was a poster child for that sort of thing.

  From what I could tell we were in some sort of an apartment, a tiny one-bedroom with half a kitchen. There wasn’t much in it...odds and ends of various furniture, a bachelor pad.

  “Hello.�
� The stranger broke the silence and I shifted my head to look at him. “My name’s Ian. Ian Rosenthal.”

  I stared at him. I tried to sit up, but winced. The tiniest movement sent lightening bolts lashing through my muscles.

  “Easy,” he stated, getting up off his chair. “You’re hurt pretty badly. I didn’t take you to a hospital, but my dad used to be a doctor so I called him over. He bandaged you up and said that it didn’t look like you had any broken bones, but that there might be internal bleeding. Are you sure you don’t want to be taken to the hospital?”

  I shook my head violently. He sighed and said, “I can’t force you.”

  The only sound that could be heard in the room was the ticking of the clock. Ian came closer and said, “Can you tell me what happened? Who attacked you?”

  I didn’t answer. I kept my lips glued together, and let not a word slip out from them.

  He tried a new angle. “If you don’t say something, whoever did this might attack somebody else, and they might not be as lucky as you. Are you sure you don’t know who it was? Did you see their face? I can assure you that you’re safe.”

  Oh she was definitely going to do the same thing to someone else, but there was no way that I could stop it. There was no force on this earth that could handle Annabelle, and if this man thought he could protect me from her wrath, he had another thing coming.

  He didn’t show any aggravation at my silence, only patience. He got up and said, “You can stay with me until you heal, and for as long as you like afterwards. You don’t have to worry about paying me back or anything. You just focus on getting better, alright?”

  His kindness shocked me. Nobody had ever been so generous, save for Annabelle who had always wanted something in return. But if I had learned anything in life it was that there were no free rides. This man would want something for his kindness sooner or later. Hopefully I would heal quickly so I wouldn’t wrack up too high of a debt.

  He seemed uncertain, by the eyes that kept dancing to the floor and the hands that were clasped too tightly together, so I gave him a smile. Least I could do for saving my life, right?

  He gave me a shaky grimace in return and reverted to closing the window shades after noticing the light was hitting my face. A nice guy.

  “Do you need anything? An extra blanket, water, food?” he asked.

  I didn’t respond.

  “I need to know what to call you,” Ian said, and he leaned closer. “Can you at least give me your name?”

  I didn’t answer right away. I kept him waiting a while longer before I responded, “Christine Fjord. But I go by Christie. I’m...I’m nineteen.”

  He smiled. “I’m twenty-four. Well Christie, you can stay as long as you like.”

  I left it at that, and he vanished from the room. I shifted on the couch and turned my attention towards the small TV, which was broadcasting the news. How boring, I thought, and I looked around for the remote only to see that the stranger had it in his hands.

  “I’m assuming that this is boring you,” he said, switching it quickly. “Sorry, I had it on just to see if anyone declared you missing or something. I figured you didn’t want me calling the cops.”

  “Nobody’s missing me,” I said with a small laugh. “Watch what you want. It’s your house.”

  His eyes narrowed at my comment but he turned back to the television. “Okay.” He switched it to a movie and we sat together like that for the rest of the day in silence.

  Well, somewhat silence.

  “Who are you? Who hurt you like this?” he insisted, asking me over and over. Finally, I got tired of his insistent questions. After living with the cult, I could fabricate stories like none other.

  “I’m homeless,” I told him. “I was kicked out of my house and I didn’t want you taking me to the hospital or calling the police because my family is abusive, and if they found me they’d force me to come back,” I said. “I’d been mugged when you found me.” All true, just not in the way he suspected.

  “That’s terrible,” he said, eyes wide. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

  “How were you going to know? Can you read minds?” I laughed lightly.

  He turned pink. “Well, no, I’m just glad I didn’t change my mind and get the authorities involved. I suppose you were right about getting away from them.” He stood up, heading towards the door. “You don’t have to worry about anyone ever hurting you like that again, Christie. You’re safe now, and like I said, you can stay here as long as you like. Now, I’m going to go get some pizza for the both of us. What size would you like?”

  I wasn’t very hungry, but I told him to get whatever he wanted just so he would leave. The minute he was gone I tried getting off the couch so I could hit the road, but it was useless. There was no way I was getting out of here anytime soon no matter how badly I wanted to. I was at the mercy of a complete and utter stranger.

  I sighed, my eyes drooping. In whatever case being here was better than being with Annabelle. It would be good to lay low for awhile. Perhaps if I was lucky, I would heal quickly.

  Ian

  I couldn’t sleep that night. No matter how badly I wanted to believe her, the girl’s story just didn’t make any sense. If she’d been mugged the thief would’ve took the money and ran. He wouldn’t have stayed around to torture her, to slice into her skin and bruise every part of her body. What kind of a thief would do that to someone they didn’t know? Had it been her abusive family, perhaps? Or was that a lie too?

  I punched my pillow and turned on my side. I already knew there was no point in trying to get it out of her. She’d never tell me anything, not until I gained her trust. And even then I wasn’t sure exactly if she’d tell me the whole truth. It seemed like some things Christie wanted to keep hidden forever.

  Whoever had done this to her could be looking for her, and could find her here. That thought didn’t frighten me, though...it only made me angry. I would find the person who did this to her and when I did, there’d be hell to pay. I’d make sure of it.

  I tossed and turned, unable to figure out one question. If it was dangerous to be harboring this girl, why did I only feel the need to fiercely protect a stranger instead of run?

  Christine

  My wish to heal quickly wasn’t granted. I healed slowly, slower than the leaves that fell outside Ian’s apartment window. I don’t remember much of the first month, because I slept a lot. I stayed on the couch, getting up only to go to the bathroom or, if I felt well enough, to eat. After nearly a month I was able to walk again. Ian did his best to make sure I had everything I needed, but in all honesty I wished he would just leave me alone. I sighed with relief every time he left at seven that morning, coming back at about five or six each night, save for the weekends which he had free.

  He went to church on Sundays, and tried to drag me along. I refused every time. Setting foot in a church was a death sentence, as Annabelle had taught me, and part of me believed that the instant I walked into a sermon my entire body would burst into flames. I was a murderer, wasn’t I?

  Other than church, Ian was around constantly. He was some sort of social worker up at the elementary school, which kept him relatively busy, I was happy to say.

  But I couldn’t avoid him at all times.

  “How are you feeling today, Christie?” he asked for about the millionth time that Saturday morning as I got up off the couch to sit at the table, waiting for the dozen eggs that he loved to make to finish cooking. “Does anything hurt? Looks like your bruises are pretty much gone. That’s great.” He placed a full platter in front of me, which I could never shove down but tried anyway. When I started attacking the eggs with disinterest his grin got wider and he said, “Come on, where’s that big, bright smile of yours?”

  Had I ever smiled in front of him? I didn’t say anything. When he wasn’t working Ian was always trying to talk to me. Unsuccessfully of course…I had yet to break my silence.

  “Today’s a late start day up at the schoo
l,” Ian informed me when I was done, and my stomach dropped in dread. “I have an extra hour before I need to show up. You want to play checkers?”

  Ian played board games with me constantly. I didn’t mind them because they made him think, so he didn’t talk as much. I nodded yes to his question. He got up and said, “Cool. I’ll get the game, you stay right here.”

  As if I had somewhere else to go. As he left the room I got up to put the dirty dishes in the washer. Cleaning off the table gave my shaky hands something to do. No matter what, I could never seem to get Annabelle off my mind. Every shadow in this apartment made me think she was just outside the door.

  “Ouch!” Ian snapped, holding his foot off the floor as he walked into the kitchen again, game box in hand. “Dangit! I told my mother I didn’t want that stupid sewing machine. Goes to show you she’s stubborn. I should’ve never given her an extra key.”

  When he sees that I’m standing up he drops the game on the table immediately and rushes over, arms extended as if to catch me. “Christie, what are you doing? You should sit down and let me handle it.”

  I was getting sick and tired of this guy treating me like I was made of glass. I had been through hell and back, probably more than what he could ever imagine, and he expected me to crumble just because I had put a few dishes away? He spotted the monstrous glare I was giving him and backed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re incapable of it, I really don’t. I just don’t want you exerting yourself, okay? Not until you’re better.”

  If I glared at him any harder he probably would’ve incinerated. I let it drop and went back to my seat, still fuming but not willing to show it to him.

  “Sorry again,” he said meekly as he sat down. “Because I did that, I’ll let you go first.”

  He always let me go first. It wasn’t like this was anything new. I crossed my arms. He sighed and said, “Uh…you can set up the game?”

 

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