Pulled

by Danielle Bannister

  Fear creeps into my veins. Seth. I rush out of the shower, stopping only to grab a towel and wrap it around my waist before I fling open the door. I’m not prepared for what I see.

  Naya

  While the tea water is boiling, I go into the living room with my coffee and smile. Everything feels so right. His Grams is back at the nursing home, Seth hasn't called me again, and our show opens tonight. All of our hard work is going to finally pay off.

  As I walk into the room I go over to his giant floor-to-ceiling bookcase. The shelves are crammed tight with classic novels, books of poetry and textbooks. There is even a pile started on the floor. There are picture frames and a few random knick-knacks sitting scattered along the few empty areas of the shelves.

  A small blue frame catches my eye. It’s Etash sitting on a rock overlooking a lake. So, he’s outdoorsy too? Go figure. Then I notice a larger family photo perched on one of the higher shelves. Setting my cup down, I reach for the photo. I have to stand on my tiptoes to get it. A thin layer of dust is on the picture, which I wipe off with my thumb. When the dust is gone, I can see that it’s a picture of Etash when he was 10 or 11, maybe. He’s grinning like the Cheshire cat, holding a fish just caught. I take a small intake of air when I notice that he didn’t have his scar yet. A small pain throbs in the pit of my stomach, mourning for the little boy with the once perfect face. I frown. He still is perfect. Turning my attention to the woman in the photo, I notice that she’s a dead ringer for Etash, right down to his glowing skin. This must be his mom. Suddenly, I can't wait to meet this woman, to assure her that I will take good care of the son she so clearly loves.

  I glance next at his father, standing taller than the others. The father doesn’t look anything like Etash: pale skin, blond hair and big, white teeth. I recall Etash mentioning that his father was American, so the fact that he's white shouldn't shock me, but somehow it does.

  There is still a bit of dust covering his father, and I want to see what traits Etash picked up from him. After a quick scrub, I focus in on the dad. Huh. He looks a little like the man who ... I rub more of the dust away. No. Not a little alike. I swallow hard. He looks a lot like him. Small beads of sweat start forming at my temples. It couldn’t be? Could it? The photo slips out of my hands and shatters at my feet.

  Etash

  “Naya!” I yell, coming out of the bathroom. She’s standing, transfixed staring at the bookcase, completely oblivious to the sound of the screaming teakettle. I rush past her to turn off the water. When I turn back to look at her, she has gone completely white.

  “How did you get your scar?” she asks slowly.

  My scar? My eyes travel down to her feet where her eyes are focused and see the shattered frame. A picture of my family: of my dad. Oh no. She recognized him.

  “Please, Naya. I wanted to tell you. From the moment I first realized it was you, but, I just couldn’t, I didn't know how.”

  She isn’t looking at me, just staring at the picture.

  “You were in the car with him, weren’t you? The car that killed my parents. That's how you got your scar?” her voice is so distant.

  “Yes,” I moan.

  She shakes her head at me slowly. “No. Your last names aren't the same.” She doesn't want to believe it.

  “I had my name legally changed when I was eighteen to my mom's maiden name. I did it to piss my dad off, not to lie to you.”

  “But lie you did.”

  I pull my hands through my hair.

  “Yes, I did. But that isn’t even the worst of it.” My knees give out and I slide down the wall next to the bookcase. I cradle my head in my hands. I’m going to lose her.

  “What’s the worst of it?” she asks after an eternity of silence.

  “I caused it. My father didn't kill them. I did.”

  She just starts shaking her head slowly, unable to believe it.

  “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now,” I whimper. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “I don’t understand. How?” she sputters.

  “I didn’t know for sure until that first day, when you said your name in acting class. But then, that was crazy, right? It couldn’t be you! I mean, what would the odds be of you showing up in my class? It was impossible.”

  I’m talking so fast that I’m not sure she’s catching it all, but I can’t manage to slow down. It’s pouring out of me like lava, each word more damning than the last.

  “I tried to ignore you, tried to keep my distance, but then your pull on me...That damn pull. It started freaking me out. It was like you knew I was responsible for their deaths, and you were punishing me, but I couldn’t figure out how you were doing it. It took some time for me to realize you were feeling this thing too. But you didn’t seem to know who I was, which only made being near you so much more complicated.”

  She doesn't say anything, but her bottom lip quivers.

  “And the guilt! The guilt was crushing me, Naya. The guilt I felt, I still feel every time I look at you, knowing what I've done to you!”

  Her eyes gloss over.

  “Tell me what happened,” she says, not once looking up at me.

  “I was thirteen. We were coming home from a camping trip and I remember it was raining really hard, like really hard. I knew my father couldn’t possibly see where he was going. I’d never seen it rain like that before.”

  “I remember,” she whispers.

  I have to make her understand.

  “I was scared out of my mind, I just wanted him to pull over and wait it out. He told me it was too dangerous to do that--that no one would be able to see our blinkers in the downpour. He tried to make me feel better by saying we were just a few minutes away from the exit. That’s when I started to feel …” I don’t know how to explain this to her.

  “Feel what,” she says, her eyes have finally come up off the floor. She's desperate for the truth.

  “I could never describe the feeling to my parents or anyone, and have never felt it again, until the day I met you. The feeling I had that night, it was like a rope had been tied around my waist and was pulling me. I can only assume now that it was pulling me toward you.”

  A tear slips down her face.

  “That pull was so strong that I …” here it comes. “I tried to jump out of the car.”

  “You what?”

  “I know, I know, it was crazy. But, it was like I was under a spell or something. I just undid my seatbelt without even thinking about it. I opened the car door while we were still driving--I even had one of my legs out of the door. I should have been terrified, but somehow I was more afraid about what would happen if I didn't get out of that car and find whatever was pulling me.”

  She wipes the tear off her cheek.

  “You were going to jump out of a moving car, in a downpour, on the highway?” she asks.

  I rub the palms of my hands over my eyes, struggling to make her believe.

  “To be fair, I don’t really think I had a choice in the matter. Like I said, I felt … possessed. When my mom saw what I was doing, she started screaming which, of course, made my dad swerve and … well, you know the rest.”

  Naya

  Yes, I did know the rest. Their car plowed across the grassy median and head on into our sedan, taking my parents' life with it.

  “That’s the night I got my scar,” he says in the wake of the silence his confession has made.

  “They never told me there was a kid in the other car,” I whisper, but then, who, besides the fireman who rescued me, was around to tell me anything about that night? Would I have even listened if someone had? The ghost of a girl I was that night flew across my mind. No. That girl would have not registered anything except ‘your parents are dead.’

  I scramble to my feet not sure what I am going to do, but know I need to get out of here.

  “I can’t be here right now,” I blurt out, grabbing his car keys and running to the door as fast as my legs will carry me. I don't feel m
y body as I slide the key in the ignition. I'm barely conscious as I pull out onto the highway. I don't know where I'm going, but I know there is one person who has some answers. Grams.

  Chapter 17

  Etash

  What have I done? What have I done? The chant rings in my ears as she slams the door and slips away from me and I go limp.

  Naya

  It's almost ten when I pull into the parking lot at the mall. I'm a wreck. My eyes are swollen and red and my face is streaked with tears. Wiping my face with the back of my shirt, I walk into the mall and find the nearest pay phone.

  Plunking in a handful of change, I dial information and have them connect me to Naimi's nursing home. I'm on my last few quarters before I'm finally connected to her.

  “He told you, yes?” she asks, as though she knows what has just happened.

  “He told me that he killed my parents by jumping out of a car!” For some reason, I seemed to be blaming her for Etash's actions.

  Naimi breathed patiently into the phone. “You are right to be angry that your parents are gone. It is tragic to have them taken away from you so young.”

  Without meaning to, I start to weep.

  “You are right to be sad,” she continues as I brush a tear away. “But you are no right to blame your twin flame.”

  I sighed. “He doesn't believe in any of that.”

  She laughed. “He was always the stubborn one.”

  I twirled the cord on the phone as the phone demanded more money. Dropping in my last two coins I ask her what I've been wanting to ask all along.

  “Do you believe my parents were meant to die that night?”

  “You wear the mark, do you not? The flame, yes,” she asks.

  “How did you...”

  “It is the same as his, no?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “You are twin flames. It was not my Etash that killed your parents that day. It was fate bringing you together. Did they have to die in order for you two to meet? That only God can answer for you.”

  I wanted to believe her. But to do that meant that I had to also accept the existence of Twin Flames, something I wasn't sure I was ready to do.

  “No matter you believe or not,” her sage voice crackled over the line, reading my silence perfectly. “If you leave him, he will only find you again. If not in this life, then in the next. Like it or no, you two are bound together for all eternity.”

  As she spoke the words, my heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, I knew she was right. We would be together, always. Fate had kept pulling us back, time and time again.

  “Go to him,” she whispered. “He is waiting.”

  Without even saying goodbye, I hung up and flew out of the mall, desperate to get back home.

  Etash

  All I can think about is Naya. And Seth. Had I inadvertently done the unthinkable and sent her back into the arms of her abuser? Was I the bigger monster? Deep down, I knew I was. I shouldn't have lied to her. I should have told her the minute I realized who she was, but then, I just would have lost her sooner. Is it really better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all? Is the pain I'm feeling better than living in ignorance that she even existed?

  Images of Naya knocking on Seth's door plagued me. Made me literally sick to my stomach.

  Unable to stop myself, I opened my computer and found his page on facebook to see if he'd made any telling posts. There was nothing but his smiling face next to Naya's. He hadn't even bothered to change his profile picture. His status still said they were together. He had no plans of letting her go. Clicking onto his info page I found he'd listed his cell phone. Before I could stop myself, my fingers started dialing the numbers. I held my breath as I waited for him to pick up. Nothing. After a dozen rings and no voice mail, I hung up. Please, Naya, please don't go back to him.

  That's when I sank into my couch and began to cry. I was lost. Helpless without her beside me. What was I going to do now? The unanswered questions swimming in my heart only made me sob harder.

  Naya

  When I open the door to his apartment I am breathless and hungry to see him. As our eyes finally meet, I can see he's been crying.

  Quickly, he stands up from the couch and opens his mouth to speak. I hold a finger up to stop him.

  “It wasn't your fault. I don't blame you.”

  His eyes well up in relief.

  “But...”

  “It wasn't your fault,” I repeat, closing the gap between us. With each step I'm pulled harder toward him.

  “We are meant to be together. Forever.”

  Before he can say another word, my lips are on his and our fates are sealed.

  Passion rages inside of me as I taste his lips. My body begs to be released in this kiss, in this moment. Hungry hands greedily find their way to the nape of his neck and I pull him closer. His chest presses firmly against mine as my fingers willingly bury themselves in his thick brown locks and I sigh in relief.

  Etash wraps his arms firmly around my waist and closes what little gap there had been between our hips. His touch burns my skin and I want more of him; need more. His hands slowly but fiercely run up my back, sending hot shivers down my spine.

  “Please,” I whisper.

  Immediately understanding what I want, he scoops me up into his arms and carries me into the bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot.

  Chapter 18

  Etash

  Never in my life have I felt so loved, so cherished, as I do right now with her in my arms.

  “Marry me,” I whisper in her hair. She laughs quietly against my arm.

  “That's kind of a moot point now, isn't it?” Lifting her head up, she kisses me softly on the lips. I want desperately to take her again, but I resist. I need an answer first.

  “I'm serious,” I say, pulling her eyes to mine. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. “Naya, I want you to marry me. I know we've only known each other for a month, but the way I feel when I'm with you...We belong together. I'm more sure of us than I've ever been about anything.”

  She doesn't speak, she just starts to trace her fingers across my chest.

  “I realize I haven't said this yet, but I love you, and I want you to be my wife.”

  She lifts her head up and props her head on her hand.

  “Why haven't you?” she asks, “Said that you love me?”

  It's such a painfully honest question that I struggle with giving her my answer.

  “I guess cause it's a cliché? People use it so often that it kind of lost its meaning.”

  She gives me a sad smile.

  “I disagree. I don't think people say it enough.”

  She is absolutely right. Far too few people have told her that she is loved.

  “I love you, Naya. I love you,” I chant, over and over again, pausing to kiss a part of her body after each time. Her nose, her chin, the top of her lush breasts, and finally, her perfect lips. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she says in my ear. “And yes, I'll marry you.” Pulling her on top of me, I roll her over and ravish my fiancée, showing her my sincere appreciation.

  The rest of the day, Naya and I spend cuddled together in bed, either reading, watching the news, or just being; and it is nothing short of heaven.

  At four o'clock, we both begrudgingly start to get ready to go to the theatre to prepare for Opening Night.

  When we walk into the make-up room a few hours later, it is all abuzz with excitement. The cast is giving each other flowers or hand-made ‘break a leg’ cards.

  Naya gets swept up in a gaggle of girls as they go into the changing rooms to get dressed. As I set my bag down at my usual make-up chair, I see a nice tall cup of tea with my name written across the side. I check the label on the tea bag; it’s chai. Thank you, Elizabeth. I grab the cup, which is still warm and take a nice long sip. Perfection. How Naya can prefer coffee to this, I’ll never know.

  I duck into the men’s changing area and g
et my sweats on to warm up. When I come out I still hear the girls giggling in the changing rooms, so I go to the door and knock and instantly the chatter stops.

  “Naya, I’m going upstairs to stretch.”

  “Okay,” she says, “I'll be up soon.” The hushed voices start up again.

  Taking another long sip of my tea, I head up the stairs to the studios. There are a few other actors stretching out as well in the first studio but I brush past them and head to the smallest studio. It’s harder to get to since it’s around the corner and up a small flight of stairs.

  Of course, it’s empty. No one will bother me here. Except for Naya and Kari, people still keep their distance from me, which suits me just fine.

  As I start my warm-ups, I notice how stiff my body feels. You worked yourself a little too hard earlier, I think, smiling. Stretching, I notice it's more than just my stiff muscles, the tips of my fingertips are cold too. Fall is definitely here.

  I down the rest of my tea in one shot hoping that will warm my body up a bit. I lift my leg onto the balance bar and bend over to touch my toes, and am surprised that this basic, routine movement causes me to almost fall on my ass. I must be stiffer than I thought. Playing it safe, I decide to start with some floor stretches instead.

  After a bit, I can hear the other actors leaving, going downstairs to get into make-up. I know I should go down too, but I'm not nearly warmed up enough. When I try to push myself up to stand, I can't. My limbs suddenly feel very heavy. That’s when I hear a voice chuckling from behind me.

  “Did you enjoy your tea?” Seth asks coldly, walking into the studio.

  My tea?

  “You…” I start to speak, but can’t finish my thought.

  “I did warn you that I was watching you,” he says in a sweet, sickening voice. “Noticing small things, like the type of tea you drink. Even your habits, like coming here, to this place, far away from everyone else, for instance.” I can make out what he’s saying, but only barely. I’m starting to lose consciousness.

  “Stay...away... from... her.”