by Elisa Ellis
This time I just start walking in that direction since I know my way. It’s only about a five-minute walk since the campus is pretty small.
After we grab a couple of cokes, we sit down on some couches that are a little more secluded than the rest. I can still hear a lot of chatter around me considering classes resume tomorrow, but at least here, we can hear each other better.
“Thanks for joining me,” I tell her.
“Of course. I’m glad you asked.”
Our conversation is a little awkward. Neither of us knows what to say, so I finally decide to just try to get to know her better.
“So, what’s your major? Are you from here?”
“English, and yes. How about you?”
“Art and also yes. Seems like we should already know each other then.”
“Umm, yeah, I kind of do know you, Cal. Maybe you would recognize me if…nevermind. But yeah, I was in a couple of classes with you last year.”
“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t really talk to many people in high school. Kind of did my own thing.”
“It’s ok. I have always been pretty shy. Plus, you had a girlfriend anyway, right?”
“Yeah. I guess you would know all about my situation then, huh? Everyone knows everything around here.” It bugs the hell out of me. I hate everyone knowing my story, or at least thinking that they do. “We can just not talk about that, though. K?”
“Of course. Sorry.”
Back to awkward silence.
I’m doubting this whole thing. It’s too soon. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.
I can hear Emily shift in her chair.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t mean to sound like a jerk. It’s just…still kind of hard for me. Ya know? I mean, obviously, the wreck changed everything for me, so yeah…”
“It’s ok. I can’t imagine. I’m sure it has been crazy hard. And I’m really sorry. You seem like you are doing well, though.”
“Yeah. I guess. Anyway…” I say, deciding to get the topic off of me, “English, huh? What do you plan to do, teach?”
“Well, honestly, I’m not really sure. I just picked English because it was easy for me in high school. I absolutely hate science and I’m not great at math, so I’m trying to avoid anything that requires more than the minimum classes of those.”
Chuckling, I agree. “Same, here. I got through them fine, but science and math are definitely not fun in my opinion.”
“I’m hoping I’ll eventually figure out what really interests me. I mean, I can teach, but it’s not like that’s been my life-long dream or anything. I figure I’ll just keep working on getting all of the required classes out of the way and maybe by then, I’ll know what direction to take,” she says.
“I get that. I wasn’t even planning to go to college. All I really wanted to do was get out of here and just experience the world a little,” I tell Emily, trying not to wince at my new reality. Taking a deep breath, I continue, “But, since I’m kind of stuck here for now, I decided to take some art classes. It’s been pretty fun.”
I hear her smile, responding, “I’ve actually heard about your art, Cal. I have a few friends who are in class with you, and they told me you made some really awesome sculptures. That’s so cool.”
I’m shocked that people are talking about my art. It’s weird.
“Well, I don’t know about all that, but I enjoy it.”
All of a sudden, I feel someone smack me on my shoulder and sit right next to me. “What’s up, dude? Looks like you’re holding out on me.” It’s Ray. He sounds happy to see me, and a little too happy to annoy the shit out of me too.
I stick my hand out to him to shake his, but my sarcastic response makes him laugh. “What the fuck, Ray? I’m gonna kick your ass next time you do that.” I continue, enjoying a somewhat normal moment with friends. “Ray, this is Emily. Emily, Ray.” Hearing them exchange, “nice to meet you’s,” we go on to sit and chat for another hour.
It sounds like Ray and Emily are actually quite at ease with each other even though they just met. It’s cool, though. I’m not laying claim.
Before
“How long do you have?” I ask Sera, hoping she doesn’t have to be home for a while.
“Well, I told dad I was going to be studying, so he just said to be home before 10:00,” she says, a small smile sneaking through as she playfully bites the corner of her bottom lip. She’s nervous but flirty, her thoughts exposed by the flush of her cheeks.
“You. Are. Killing me with that look, babe.” My hand touches the side of her cheek, absorbing the heat between us. “Let’s get out of here,” I say, handing her the helmet. I climb on the bike and start it right before she jumps on behind me, immediately wrapping her arms around my chest.
And we are flying.
We drive for about thirty minutes before stopping at an old, abandoned lake house. I’ve been here before. Found it when I was out driving around last year. I can tell nobody has been here in a long time. It wouldn’t be easy for a car to drive down the run-down road, the overgrown weeds camouflaging the winding, mile-long trail that leads to a small house with a rusted metal roof.
Still, I park in back before turning off the bike.
“What is this place?” Sera asks.
“I don’t know. Just some place I found a while back. It’s cool, though. Nobody lives here anymore. Looks like it’s been years since anyone has been around. Is it ok? You don’t have to be scared, but if you want to leave, we can.”
“No, it’s ok. Let’s look around.”
Grabbing her hand, we walk around to the side where there is an old wooden door aged with green paint flakes that curl up, barely hanging on, as if they are trying hard to preserve a beauty that once was. I push the door open. It’s really not a bad place. Whoever left it didn’t bother to take their furniture. Maybe they left in a hurry or at least planned to come back eventually, or maybe they won the lottery and traded all of their belongings for new. I don’t know, but other than the cover of dust, the place is relatively clean and inviting, despite the obvious mysterious air about it.
Our hands still tightly woven, I pull Sera to the living room where a red, green, and gold plaid couch sits on a hard wood floor. An old wood stove decorates one corner, and an oval, antique rug sits in the center of the room beneath a table made out of petrified wood pieces with a glass top. The bookshelf in the corner holds a small library of what looks like a collection of some sort, hardbacks bound in blue and green with gold stripes.
We sit down on the couch, but Sera is on the edge, seemingly afraid to move back and get comfortable.
“Are you sure you are ok, Sera? We can leave if this place is scaring you. I know it’s kind of weird, but I promise you are safe with me. At least here, we can just chill and not worry about someone seeing us.” I hold my arm out, hoping she will relax against me.
Scooting closer to me, she rests her head on my chest and curls into me, her feet tucked beneath her. “I do feel safe with you, Cal. I really do. But this place is kind of freaky. I mean, it’s just weird that it’s out here and there is no one around. Are you sure we are allowed to be in here?” she asks, looking up at me.
“I don’t think it really matters that we are in here, Sera. There’s nobody to ask. Nothing has changed in here since I was here a year ago. There are no signs of anyone even messing around. And I’ve looked; there is no evidence that anyone actually lives here anymore, no refrigerator, beds, clothes or anything like that. It’s like they just left the other stuff.” I kiss the top of her head. “Let’s just talk. I haven’t seen you in too long; I’m having withdrawal, you know.”
Her giggle makes me smile. “Ok. What do you want to talk about then?”
“Hmmm, how about…how much you’ve missed me?” Before she can answer, I’m tickling her and she is screaming and laughing.
“Stop. Oh my gosh. Stop. I’m so going to get you back,” she says, recovering.
“Oh really?
Then maybe I need to do it again.” I jump up, playfully.
But she laughs and stops me, standing up to kiss my lips gently, before pulling back bashfully.
“Come here.” Softly, I pull her back toward me. “A little closer…” Our faces are about an inch apart.
“Is this close enough?” she asks, looking up at me from under her eyelashes.
I whisper, “no,” and then my lips take hers, removing every single fragment of doubt or fear. My heart feels torn between a sense of urgency and being content. It’s like I can’t get enough of her, but I don’t want to push her too far either.
“More,” she whispers when I pull back.
“More what, Sera?”
“Just…more,” she says, kissing me again more fervently.
Our tangled bodies fall together onto the couch, mine carefully on top of hers as my arms prevent my weight from crushing her. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sera.”
“You won’t, Cal. Please. Just be with me.”
“Ok, baby, ok,” I say, our souls touching, colliding.
And we realize a fire that doesn’t singe.
It radiates.
Sparks mingle, igniting more as they dance.
We dance.
Flames lick, tasting, sensing each other
Our bodies are moving, loving, desperate. Frenzied.
More. More. More.
Ecstasy.
Euphoria.
A consummation of our emotions, of our youth, of our love.
Melding us now, and forever.
We lie side-by-side, no space between us. She is so beautiful.
After a few minutes, I face her, and wipe away a tear as it falls from her eye. “Are you ok?”
“I’m just happy, Cal. I promise,” she says as her tears continue to flow more freely. “I love you, Cal. I love you so much. Just hold me.”
“Baby, I love you, too. More than you will ever know,” I say, kissing her forehead. “I’ve never felt this way before. It’s like, I truly don’t feel like I can live without you. Can’t get you close enough to me. I will hold you, babe. Right now, and forever my sweet, Serafina.”
And even as the sun sets and we are on our way back to her house, our light flickers, immune to the world around us.
Part II
Sera
Chapter 17
Before
Feeling hope
Shattered
Seeing happiness
Mirage
I taste fear
Dreams
The sound of alarms
Emotions
A scent of dreams
Destruction
I can’t remember. My mind searches, reaches, tries to process the maze of recent memories. Lost, I can’t find my way. Cal. We were going to study. Dad was at work, so I told my stepmom I would be back later.
But then.
What happened?
A sense of fear overcomes me, causing my body to tremble. But when I open my eyes, my anxiety heightens.
Pink wallpaper serves as a veneer. Pretending, deceiving, yet unable to conceal the machines, tubes, supplies, the numb mood that overwhelms me.
Turning my head to the side, I see my father sleeping on a makeshift bed. It’s some kind of vinyl chair that extends. He doesn’t look comfortable, but he is sleeping soundly.
So I lie here, in the quiet room that contradicts the screaming in my mind. Pulling the blankets up to my chin, I long for comfort, for safety. But the monsters continue to linger; they settle deep within me whispering, convincing me, preventing calm.
Until I can’t take it anymore.
“Daddy?” I whisper it at first.
“Daddy. Dad.” My voice becomes urgent.
“Sera?” He quickly stands and rushes to my side.
Grabbing my hand, he supports me, asking, “Hey, honey. How are you feeling?”
“What happened? Where am I?” I question him, hoping for clarity.
“Just relax. We’ve gone over this. Remember? You’re ok now. You had an accident, but you are going to be just fine. We have to stay here a little longer, though. Ok? That way, the nurses and doctors can help you.”
Suddenly aware of pain in my abdomen, I touch it, feeling for the source.
“It’s ok. Leave that alone, Sera. The doctors had to remove your spleen and repair a few things, but your prognosis is great.”
“What?” Panic consumes me again. “But it still hurts. How long have I been here?”
“Only a week, darling. You also suffered fractures in both legs, so you will be discharged to rehab when the doctors clear you, so just hang in there. I’m not leaving you.”
I’ll never leave you. Cal.
“Wait. Where is Cal? Is he ok? I don’t remember anything. Dad, I think I was with him. We were going to study.”
“He’s fine. You don’t need to worry about him.”
“Can I see him?” I remember Dad didn’t want me to be with Cal, but this is important. I have to see him. I have to. “Dad! I need to see him. Please take me to him.”
“I’m sorry, Sera, but you can’t do that right now. You were airlifted to a bigger hospital. Ok? There are specialists, experts here. I only want the best for you.”
“Ok. Well, when can we leave? I need to be with Cal.”
My father’s clipped response reveals his feelings; “No, Sera. Right now, we are going to focus on getting you better.”
Tears threaten to spill, but I try to contain them. I’m trapped, but I will find my way. To him.
“Fine, Dad, but just know that as soon as I’m better, I will go see him. Could you at least somehow let him know I’m ok and that I’m thinking about him? I don’t want him to worry.”
“Ok. I’ll see what I can do.” Unfortunately, I don’t know if I can believe him. And it hurts me. My dad has always taken care of me. Always been there. But right now, I’m afraid he doesn’t know what is best for me. He doesn’t want to let me go. I love him, but Cal is my love. My future. He promised me he would never let me go, and I plan to hold him to that promise.
My anxiety abated, determination makes room in my mind giving me courage and fueling my desire to find my way back to Cal, to my home.
But my thoughts and memories remain foggy, clouding my path for a long time.
Now
I’m running.
Away from my past. From my current. Out of reach of my father.
To Cal.
But I’m scared. What if he hates me now? I haven’t talked to him in eight months. He’s probably moved on by now, but I have to know. If he still loves me like I love him.
He was my ticket to freedom.
My father’s control stifled me, smothered me, and while I know he loves me, he’s been slowly extinguishing my flame, depleting my oxygen so that I couldn’t breathe.
Despite my perseverance throughout the long recovery, rehab has been challenging. Not only were my legs severely broken in more than one place, but my right knee required multiple surgeries to repair a ruptured ligament, torn meniscus, and several other issues that I can’t remember in detail. I just remember the Dr. telling me that my knee looked like it had exploded and that it was the worst he had seen in his many years of practice. Also, being confined to a hospital bed caused my muscles to atrophy. I practically had to learn to walk all over again, and it’s still not pretty. I finally graduated from using a walker to using a cane, but I’m still slow-moving and have a pretty pronounced limp.
I was supposed to continue with outpatient physical therapy for another six months at least, but I plan to try to do it on my own. I know what exercises to do.
My dad will be looking for me, but I’m not his little girl anymore. He needs to let me go.
In the three car garage attached to Dad’s new house, my Bronco waits patiently for me. I haven’t driven in so long. Although many of our belongings still remain boxed up, I know my Dad put my keys in his office desk drawer.
After the accident, my
father sold our house and moved to Dallas where I have been receiving treatment. He says it’s just easier and that he wanted to move here when I started college anyway. Ugh. The lengths he has gone to keep me away from Cal are getting ridiculous, but until now, I’ve played along, secretly planning my escape.
And today is the day.
I smile when I find my keys. The little plastic, yellow tag on my keyring reminds me of when I left my Bronco at the shop where Cal worked. I remember watching him write “blue Bronco” on it, their way to identify different sets of keys.
I had seen Cal in school multiple times. I never felt brave enough to talk to him, but I knew he worked at an auto shop. I might have stalked him just a little. I mean, holy shit, he was hot. I’ll never forget his face when I got out of my car. He just stared at me. In jeans and a white t-shirt with grease on his face and clothes, he walked slowly to my Bronco, and I felt like I might die, like I was on fire. I couldn’t look away, and even though I felt nervous, I smiled, and I swear I saw him flinch. I just hoped it was for a good reason.
I kept that tag on my keyring. Dad asked me about it once, but I just told him I forgot to ever take it off. Thankfully, he didn’t have a clue. Because, honestly, from that moment, I planned to keep everything related to Cal from then on.
Last night I packed my suitcase. I have a ton of clothes and shoes, but obviously I can’t take everything with me, so I picked about a week’s worth of outfits. Along with my cosmetics, a picture of my family, and a stuffed bear that I’ve had since I was little, my clothes barely fit inside the rolling suitcase I just got last year for Christmas. I’ve been taking cash out of my account and saving it for this moment. I don’t want to have to use my cards because they will just serve as a map for my dad to find me. I have around a thousand dollars. Even though it seems like a lot, I’m scared it will go fast, so I hope to get a job once I get settled.
My dad left for a meeting an hour ago. He works from home most of the time but occasionally has to go to the office, so this is my big chance to do this.