Descendant

by LJ Amodeo

  “Hold your tongue, Sammie!” Michael growled, pointing an accusing finger.

  “Sammie?” she laughed, forcefully pulling away from Freddie’s grip. “Just like the good old days, huh Mikael? Remember the days when we played nice,” Sam slowly strutted toward Michael, teasingly flashing him a beaming smile. I felt queasy, knowing they both lied to me about their past. I wanted to understand what was happening, why they both showed up in my life at the same time. One who made me happy, while the other sadistically found pleasure in my emotional tribulations. I thought I was having a bad dream. My head hurt and the room spun with the sounds of woeful voices emerging, resonating around the room in a choir of laughter and misery. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing from them. They shared a past. A childhood that Michael hid from me. Memories that Samantha kept from me. Was this a game, and I their prize? I stared at Michael with mounting emotions, shocked, disappointed, hurt that he hadn’t been honest with me. I searched his eyes for the truth.

  “We never had a past, Sam, and you know it.” He argued harshly. I couldn’t listen to any more.

  “What is this about, Sam?” I cried, concentrating on them and not the voices in my head. “You said you didn’t know him–Michael, what is she talking about?” I threw my hands desperately down at my sides. Both stood like granite pillars hissing at each other until Samantha relaxed, crossing her arms arrogantly over her chest.

  “Mikael, tsssk . . . tsssk . . . tsssk. Good boys like you shouldn’t lie. Now, would be a great time to tell Beth the truth. Go on. Be a good little angel and tell her why you’ve come such a long way from home, and settled yourself here, convenientlywhere heaven rests upon the earth. A nice little town with a very big secret. I’m sure she’d be very amused to hear your story, as I am.” She taunted mockingly, taking a seat on the piano bench waiting for Michael to tell his story. If this was Sam’s twisted idea of drama, I’d have no choice but to put an end to it. My anger could no longer be contained. So, I unleashed.

  “Michael, is this true? Are you here for reasons other than school?”

  Samantha quietly sneered, tapping her long nails on the piano as she waited for his response. Michael remained silent, lowering his head and dropping his shoulders in defeat.

  “Too bad. You’re forbidden to lie, so you remain quiet. So typical of you. If the cat’s got your tongue darlin’, I can tell her.” She scorned him victoriously in a Southern accent, as the onlookers remained stunned.

  “By the way, Beth . . .did you tell Michael that you have an appointment with my brother, Luca?” Her dark smile brushed across her lips. If I were anything but decent, I would have slapped that smirk right off her face. But I couldn’t. My limbs felt weak, my head pounded violently while Samantha’s words continued lashing at Michael who appeared crushed by the venomous female.

  “You tell that succubus brother of yours to keep away from her! This is your final warning!” he waned weakly.

  “Whatcha gonna do, take me down like you did my—” Freddie intervened cutting off Sam’s words.Damn you Freddie! Who was she talking about? Who did Michael take down?

  “Yo, Sam! Enough, all right! I think you’ve both said what you needed to say, now let it go!” Freddie hollered in Sam’s face.

  “Step away, Freddie, you know I’m not a force to be reckoned with or I’ll open up your can of worms.” Sam stormed, as she made her way toward Sophie, who watched with outrage that her party was ruined.

  I felt sick to my stomach about the entire situation. I wanted to leave as quickly as possible. I didn’t care to finish this conversation. I had no idea what Monday would bring at school, but it wouldn’t change much of anything for me. Except for my relationship with Michael. I shook my head in disgust. “I’ve had enough. I can’t do this anymore. I . . . I won’t do this. I trusted you both, and you turned out to be liars!” I gasped, as my voice cracked.

  I looked at Sophie, who openly expressed her detestation for me and my infelicitous public outburst. As much as I disliked the girl, I felt terrible that I had ruined her party. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean to ruin your party.” I whispered apologetically. Samantha stepped between us grabbing Sophie’s wrist.

  “Hey, Sophie, how about filling me in on how to join your squad? Maybe we could be best friends or something like that.” Sam said, pulling Sophie toward the kitchen.

  “Sam, stop! You don’t want to do this!” Michael erupted.

  Sam stopped before entering the kitchen doors still gripping Sophie’s wrist. Calmly, she turned to face Michael and the room full of Houghton seniors. Maliciously and slowly, she mouthed the words, “Watch me.” with a foul smile on her lips. The two girls disappeared into the kitchen.

  Jordan and Annie’s odious expression made me feel nothing but humiliation, especially when Annie flicked me her middle finger.

  Again, I looked over at Michael, who remained silent. After all that was said, it hurt to know that he had nothing to say to me. I poured my heart out in front of a room full of insignificant assholes, and all he could do was stand there staring down at his feet. “Say something. Please.” I begged, but he kept his head lowered. It was happening. The day I feared most. I’d never find happiness. I was destined to live a deplorable life.

  “Fine. I’ll go. But I never want to see you again!”

  “Elizabeth, don’t do this.” Michael muttered still looking down at his feet.

  I gave him enough for him to redeem himself. To apologize, but he didn’t.

  “Why are you doing this to her, Michael?” Freddie whispered, grabbing him by the forearm.

  “I never expected to fall in love.” Michael whispered back as his head dropped between his shoulders. I stood hushed with my back to Michael, clutching Freddie’s hand. The agony of Michael’s words made it impossible for me to stay.Was he not supposed to love me? Am I to be denied his love? Or any love for that matter. Pulling Freddie by the arm, I ran out of the house as fast as my feet could run. By the time I reached the front door, pools of tears poured out.

  “Take me home! I want to go home. Now! Please, Freddie, take me home.” I cried inconsolably while my heart pounded recklessly in my chest.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Freddie responded, disappointingly.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Just take me home,” I whimpered.

  Freddie did not ask any questions on, what felt like, the longest drive home. Like a true friend, he just held my hand and comforted me in silence, like always. We sat quietly in his car for a while to gather my emotions before going inside. Freddie fought hard to keep his emotions steady, but being my closest friend, it was difficult for him.

  “Don’t do that with your lips, Freddie. It makes you look weird,” I mumbled wiping my tear with the back of my hand.

  “Beth?”

  “What?” I grunted, sniffling.

  “What do you see in him, anyway?” Freddie asked me, handing me a tissue.

  I didn’t have an answer for him. There were so many things I loved about Michael, yet his lies tonight made me angry––so angry that I couldn’t find one good thing to say about him.

  “You know I’ll always love you. I’d never hurt you,” Freddie admitted.

  I looked at my friend. His sincere face always comforted me. But I was an emotional mess.

  “I know, Freddie. Thanks for being here for me.” I agonized, holding his hand.

  “I’ll always be here for you. You mean everything to me, Beth,” he expressed, caressing my hands. The moment was definitely different from any of our other heart-to-hearts. I stirred in my seat and slowly pulled my hands out of his. Freddie’s words were confusing. I didn’t want to misconstrue what he was saying, but for the first time, I thought about his feelings for me.Yes, I’m an emotional mess,I said to myself before closing the car door. Freddie followed me to the porch steps. His hand reached up to caress my hair, then cradling my face between his palms, he tilted my head slightly upward so that we were looking in
to each other’s eyes. In sync, our breathing grew deeper as he swallowed a lump of emotions. “Freddie, I can’t,” I muttered, looking away, but his firm hands held my face to look him in the eye.

  “I mean it, Bethy, I would never hurt you. You mean the world to me.” Freddie chanted ending his pledge with a soft kiss on my lips. I stepped back wide-eyed, confused, allowing some space between us. It was awkward to think of Freddie in that way. We joked around about marrying each other when we were older, but. . .my lips twitched nervously as he unexpectedly took my hands and secured them behind my back, pulling me against his firm chest. I swallowed loudly, licking my dry lips, suddenly wanting him.What am I doing? What is he doing to me? This might change things between us. I closed my eyes, absorbed with emotions. I wanted to stop him before we regretted what was inevitably going to happen. Too tired to pull away from his strong grip, I leaned my head into his chest. He inhaled the scent of my hair. I darted my eyes up at his face. My tears hadn’t stopped. Freddie wiped them away with his thumbs, and again cupped my face. With soft, tender pecks, he kissed the sides my mouth. I could do nothing but stare, dazed as he conquered my lips, gently parting them as he wrapped his arms around my waist. Without hindrance, I placed my arms around his neck pulling him closer, indulged in his kisses, savoring his mouth for the first time, wanting more of him until his cell phone went off. I instantly pulled away, stepping unsteadily away from his gasping chest. We didn’t say a word after that––we only stared at each other, confused. I turned away, swiftly walking up to my front door. I turned to Freddie, but he was already in his car.

  “Call me,” he whispered, and drove away. I remained on my doorstep for a while, touching my lips before entering my door. I removed my shoes and tiptoed to my bedroom quietly not to wake my mom and possibly having to face her. I crawled under the covers of my bed, blinking away my tears. Tonight’s events replayed in my head. Michael’s lies, Freddie’s kiss and Sam’s words still fresh in my mind. There was a strange familiarity in her voice that frightened me, tonight. A semantic affinity between her voice and the voices that have spent almost a lifetime haunting me. The relentless chatter that filled my journal with strange words and obscure symbols. Sounds of chants that could make even the skeptic’s skin crawl. Throughout the night, I wondered about Freddie’s kiss and what Sam meant when she spewed the words,Tell her why you’ve come.Why would Michael come here? Was it something in their past or something in mine? I began to wonder if they were both here because of me.

  I didn’t care to find out. I wanted to be left alone. But, there was something I did know for sure:

  They both showed up in my life at the same time.

  Chapter 14: Prelude to Paradise

  The path to paradise begins in hell.

  Dante Alighieri

  I lay restless in my bed sorting things out. Footsteps on the squeaky floor conveyed that someone was approaching my bedroom. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t want to answer, hoping to avoid a mother-daughter talk, so I lay silent.

  “Beth, Sweetie?” her soft voice called from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

  I was in no mood to talk to anyone, let alone have a heart to heart with my mother.

  “I’m really tired. Can’t it wait till the morning, Mom?”

  “Please, Beth. Just for a minute.” She pleaded.

  I caved.

  “Fine.” I whispered, wiping my tears with my hands.

  She poked her head into the room, walked over to my bed, and sat beside me. “What happened? Michael called. He was very upset and worried about you. Did you have another argument?” She stroked my hair.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Mom. Please, I just want to be alone.”

  “Oh honey. I’m sure this will work itself out in time. It’s a natural process in a relationship.” She moved closer to me on the bed. “You know, disagreements can help strengthen relationships. It’s healthy to disagree every once in a while. Yet, wonderful when you make up.” She wrapped her arms around my shivering body. I didn’t want to hear this nonsense.

  “Really, Mom? You really expect me to believe that? Then why didn’t it strengthen your relationship with Dad?” I barked, annoyed with her pacifying blarney. In recent months, my behavior had become increasing radical, almost intolerable, like my father’s before he left. My mood swings crept up like an inferno, from the hub of my interior. It became so explosive at times, that I couldn’t contain it. I didn’t know how to. It was not my character to be harsh with my words or my ways. Since the end of summer, my personality had changed and I believed I knew who was to blame. I suddenly felt remorseful.

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. When your father walked out on me. . .on us, I thought I’d never be able to go on with my life. I wanted to disappear, crawl up into a ball and never come out. I cried and how I prayed every night that this madness would end, and he’d come home. My mind couldn’t think of anything else but him. Soon after, I replaced my sadness with guilt, then shame. I blamed myself for your father’s decision to leave us. I didn’t believe anything he was telling me anymore. I thought he had lost his mind. Instead of helping him, I . . . I pushed him away. I was scared, miserable, devastated. Hopeless. Then one night, after he walked out, you came to me and wiped the tears from my eyes. You were so beautiful even then, and wise beyond your years. You combed your little fingers through my hair and said,Mommy we’ll be OK, just you and me. We’ll always have each other. I would never leave you, not for all the angels in heaven. That was all I ever needed after that,” my mom explained wiping her own tears. “Beth, the hurt you are feeling is part of growing up; transitioning from a teen to a woman. No one ever said it would be easy. It’s a difficult road, but we all walk it at one point in our lives. It helps us become who we are. One day, when you find your true love, you’ll know,” she said.

  “How?” I asked.

  “Because, it feels right all the time. Love consoles the heart, it never breaks it. You will get through this, and I am here to help you, Beth,” Mom whispered, cradling me in her arms.

  “Elizabeth, always remember, we have each other and I would never leave you, not for all the angels in heaven.” She repeated the words I once spoke as a wise little girl. I snuggled my face into her chest and wept the same way I did the day my father walked out the front door, but only this time I cried for Michael.

  In the weeks that followed, my headaches progressed as did the voices and images. I was losing control of them. Of myself. They took over my life, speaking to me at all hours, whispering praises, shouting obscenities, divulging in my insecurities. With each passing day, I lost interest in what was real in my life. I’d lost hope. I didn’t care to see my friends anymore. I obsessed over the visions and voices. I had even pushed Michael to stay away. Mom told me repeatedly that he’d call or come by to check on me, but my desire to see him, any of them, slowly extinguished. I was tired and no longer wished to defeat the imp that controlled my mind or weakened my body. The painful episodes festered daily now. Dr. Miller scheduled more scans and tests. Blood was drawn every week and the little yellow pill no longer battled my demons. My ashen skin replaced my once youthful glow. Purplish-blue syringe markings stained my skeletal arms and wrists. My thoughts consumed by my fast-approaching fate. I couldn’t eat and slept most of the day. I’d fight with my demons, shouting obscenities at them. Throwing things at their images when they appeared before me. I wanted out of my body, but something unknown kept me alive, like a tortured prisoner. It kept fighting my desire to die. After many failed exorcisms with Father Ed, Mom had no choice but to admit me into the hospital.

  I lay in the hospital bed, my eyes too heavy to notice the faces around the room. Through the haze of my misty eyes, I noticed mom resting her head at my bedside. My lips moved without words, not even an utter. There were times my body jerked as I drifted in and out of consciousness. My head, tooheavy to lift, was bandaged. It was true what people say––that you
know when death is approaching. I could see the reaper was close. He was coming. It didn’t come in a form of a beautiful light, like those close to death had claimed. It was something darker. Colder. Is this it? Is this how my life will end?

  The sound of a steady beep, hummed loudly in my ears.Flat line.Shouting and the thumps of running feet seemed distant, yet clearly heard. Within seconds, I felt the cold hands of the medical staff working hastily and desperately to keep me alive. I wanted them to let me go, instead, they prodded and poked me with sharp objects. I no longer felt their touches. Through all of it, I could hear her voice whispering in my ear, begging me to fight, to hold on; her hand clung to mine, as she prayed, her tears falling gently on my cheek. How could I do this to her.My mind begged me to fight––to stay alive for her.

  “Clear the room! Get her out of here!” a voice boomed, louder and angrier. “I said now!” He roared. “Yes, Dr. Gaven. Please, please you must wait outside, Mrs. Morgan!” A gentle voice urged Mom out.

  Luca, thank goodness. I know he will help me,I thought, as I started to pray and thank the Lord for sending me this angel of mercy. Luca’s voice was clear, although I couldn’t open my eyes or move my lips to respond, I knew he was close. I was thankful to have him here, so close to the hour of my death as my soul started to ascend over my body. The room fell silent. The stroke of his cold hand touched my belly.

  “Elizabeth Anne Morgan,” a cold, steely voice growled in my ear. It was not the tender voice I remembered from weeks ago in Quebec, but a vile sound that had spoken to me in my waking hours and my dreams. In the depths of my own dark purgatory, images of Satan appeared as I felt its force pulling me into its black realm. The voices returned, speaking in a chorale of unfathomable bile and vulgarities. I struggled to release the grip of the repugnant, scaly flesh that now constricted my body. Unable to open my eyes, to look into the face of my enemy, and fight him with everything I had left in me to stay alive. I knew this day would come. My dreams warned me of their vicious attacks. Voices cautioned me of my day of doom, “Heed my warning, child, you are predestined for the dark ones. You will ruin us all! You are their Chosen One.”Now I understood. I wasn’t chosen for Michael. I was chosen for the devil.