The World Seen Through Indigo Eyes
REVISED. REWRITEN. REPOSTED “Let me save you,” he pleaded this time. “Let me make you safe.” The boy, her boy, was on his knees begging her not to leave. Not to runaway like she had so many times before. Not to leave him. She felt her resolve slipping. She couldn’t leave him.; she couldn’t break his heart and her own. But she had to; it was the only way. “I can’t do this anymore. I have to leave.” Tears ran down her face. She bit her lip trying to stifle her sobs. “I’ll come with you then. We--,” she cut him off. She couldn’t let him say anymore. She had to end this now. It would be easier this way. “No, I have to leave you. I--we can’t be together anymore.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Is this really what you want?” His voice was surprisingly calm. She nodded not trusting her voice any longer. “Bye, I’ll miss you.” “Bye. Be good,” and with that she took off running in the woods.
1. No More Running
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The wind was blowing through my hair. I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins, though, it wasn’t quite the same high I obtained when I was running.
I was riding in Edith’s car on the way to my own personal doom. Edith was prattling on about paint colors and bedrooms. I just nodded, and pretended I was paying attention. Edith is my best friend; who occasionally feels the need to take the place as my mother. I’m eighteen for God’s sake; you think I would be able to make decisions for myself.
I complain about it a great deal, but I truly am glad Edith looks out for my safety. She has helped me through some extremely tough times; allowing me to lean on her more than should be necessary. She is the closest thing to a family I have now.
The last couple of months Edith had making several trips from Port Townshend to our new home. She said it was a surprise and that I would love the new town. Edith couldn’t have been more wrong.
The town, which I had to endure for two years, was Forks, Washington. Dreary, boring, way too rainy Forks. Why did we need to move anyhow? Port Townshend was perfectly fine. Not too rainy, nice people, and great scenic views.
I argued for days; trying to get her to pick somewhere, anywhere else, other than Forks. She wouldn’t budge. And Edith calls me stubborn. So, I grudgingly packed what little things I owned, said goodbye to the first place I felt somewhat happy at, and got in Edith’s car and drove away.
Around an hour and a half later we saw the welcome to Forks sign. I groaned internally. The car ride had been too short; my doom could not possibly be here so quickly.
Edith turned and smiled brightly at me. I forced a smile on my face; there was no need for Edith to have to see my instant disdain for this place. I would suffer in silence.
I turned to my right and watched the trees whip past me. Green was everywhere. Even things that should be brown, like the tree trunks and the ground, were green. I knew I would be sick of this color in a matter of days.
Frustrated by my new surroundings, I laid my head back against the head rest and closed my eyes. Time was lost to me as I drifted off to a place between sleep and consciousness.
“We’re here!” Edith’s sing song voice filled my ears.
I felt the car pull to a stop and I opened my eyes slowly. I was afraid of what I might see. Edith let the top of the car back up, grabbed our bags, and left. She knew I would need some time to adjust to all of this.
In front of me was a beautiful cottage. It had a stone foundation and wood paneling with a stone path leading around to the back side of it. I could also see a chimney protruding from left side. Flowers, trees, and bushes surrounded the cottage; giving it an enchanting look.
I was getting lost in the beauty of this place. Maybe Forks wouldn’t be such a horrible place to live. As I was thinking this over it started to rain. It was just drizzle at first, but it was picking up fast. All the hope that Forks would be an okay place to stay was washed away. I scrambled to get out of the car before the rain picked up anymore and ran into the cottage.
Once I was safely inside, only partially soaked, I was assaulted with the smell of pine needles. I was standing in what could only be called the great room. There were two couches, a rich blood red color, facing each other in the middle of the room. In between them was a dark, cherry wood coffee table. In the far corner of the room was a book case that matched the coffee table. And the focal point of this whole room was the fire place; the mantel had several pictures of Edith and me from all the years we have been together.
I was so wrapped up in my inspection of the room that I failed to notice Edith leaning against the doorframe of what I could make out as the kitchen.
“So, what do you think, Rhoda?” Edith asked; a small smirk on her childlike face.
“Its alright…I guess; if you like the rain, then this isn’t such a bad place.” I lied smoothly, but Edith knew me to well.
“I promise you’ll learn to like Forks, Rhoda. It’s a nice quiet town, plenty of woods to run through, and I heard there is a beach about 15 miles from here.”
“Yeah whatever Edith. Where are my bags?”
I knew she was only trying to help, but I don’t like change. It frightens me.
“In your room, first door to the left. Bathroom is right across the hall; get cleaned up while I make dinner.”
Edith was taking the role of my mother once more. I chuckled as I made my way down the hall. I reached the door to my room and took a deep breath; trying to calm my nerves. It’s just a room Rhoda, there is nothing to be afraid of. Slowly, I turned the knob, and the door opened with a creak.
The room had white walls and a lush beige carpet covering the floor. There was a dark stained, beech wood, log bed pushed up against the far wall, with white bedding. To my left was a door, which I assumed was the closet. My bags were on the floor in front of the bed; I picked them up and began unpacking.
I made short work of my bags and was finished in about fifteen minutes. The only bag left untouched was my knapsack.
I stared at the small, seemingly insignificant, bag. I wonder what memories it would hold and how painful they would be; seeing as the wounds were still fresh even after five years.
I wasn’t ready to empty it yet, so I tossed it in the closet and closed the door. I quickly went over to the bed and grabbed my toiletry bag. I all but ran to the bathroom; trying to escape the memories that began their slow creep to the forefront of my mind.
Breath, Rhoda. You only have to make it until after dinner. Then you break down.
After dinner, I thought; wait until after dinner. I moved around the bathroom in a daze; my eyes not really focusing on anything in particular. I got into the hot shower; not feeling much difference between my skin and the water.
I turned off the water and got out of the shower. I dried off and wrapped the towel around my body. I wiped the fog off the mirror, grabbed the brush from my bag, and began brushing my long, caramel brown hair. When I was finished, I stared at my reflection. The corners of my full lips were pulled slightly down, into a frown. My dark indigo eyes were void of any emotion; I was numb.
I dressed quickly; throwing on some flannel pants and a threadbare shirt that was two sizes too big. I smiled ruefully; Edith would throw a fit.
I skipped down the hall, feeling much happier than before, thinking of how annoyed Edith would look. When I got to the end of the hall, I saw Edith tending to a fire she had started. She stood upright and turned towards me. I saw her frowning out of my peripheral vision; probably because of my attire. I wasn’t focusing on her though. The blazing fire had my full attention. The cracking sound of the wood being devoured rung through my ears. The heat from the fire was all I could feel. It burned my soul and heart.
The memories I tried to suppress earlier were raging full force now. They broke free of the box I usually kept them in; taking over all of my senses. I needed to run, run away form the pain. I sprinted for the door; I threw it open nearly breaking it from the hinges. I only hesitated for a second; deciding where I wanted to go. I took off westward; the trees becoming a blur as I shifted into my other form.
The memories were still fighting to reach the forefront of my mind. I fought against them. Now was not the time to remember the past. I had to concentrate on running; it was the only thing that would dull the crippling pain. It was to late though, the memories had become too strong. I came to an abrupt stop and doubled over in pain as the memories seized my heart and ripped it open.
Even after all these years they were still strong to knock me off my feet. They flashed before my eyes. I remember that horrible night, as if it were happening all over again.
I had just come from running. I love to run; it made me feel free. No one could touch me when I ran; there was no past or future. Only right there in that one moment. After an hour, I decided to head for home. I entered my family’s small cabin, hidden away from the traffic of humans.
Moments after I arrived home someone knocked on the door loudly. My mother went to look through the peep hole. She spun around quickly with a look of disbelief and horror marring her beautiful face. I don’t remember what she looks like; just that she was insanely beautiful. She yelled for my father; he appeared at her side almost instantly. Even with the concern and anguish on his face, he was gorgeous.
They spoke in quick hushed tones. The tears rolling down my mother’s face did not go unnoticed to me, but I still couldn’t figure out what was going on. After what felt like decades, my father began moving furniture to block the doorway as another loud knock echoed throughout our home.
My mother grabbed my hand and started running towards the back room, dragging me along with her. We were only half way there when I heard the door being broken down. The sounds of snarls and crashes assaulted my ears. Gunshots rang out and all became quiet. Without looking back I knew my father was dead.
That’s when the realization of what was happening to my family hit me. We were being hunted. I had been told many times to be aware of my surroundings when I wasn’t in my human form. That humans killed what they didn’t understand.
Someone must have seen me running. This was entirely my fault, and now my family was suffering because of my mistake. I was a monster. I didn’t deserve to live. I needed to die at the hands of my family’s attackers.
We made it into the back room and my mother locked the door. She hugged me, put a knapsack on my back, stuck a piece of paper in my hand, and put some money in my pocket. Then she helped me up through a small window and told me to keep running and not to look in the bag until I was in a safe place. Once I got outside I shot a glance over my shoulder.
My cabin, my home, the only place I felt safe, was being burned to the ground along with my parents. The flames licked up the sides of my home and engulfed it quickly. I could feel the heat of the fire from where I was standing. I was transfixed by all the colors of the inferno. The unpleasant smell of our willow log cabin saturated the air around me. Hot tears ran down my cheeks and I fought back a scream. My family was gone. I was alone in world.
I took off running, and when I was sure I wasn’t being followed I stopped. I looked at the piece of, now crumpled, paper in my hand. It was a note stating where to find my aunt and her number. I found a phone booth and called my aunt.
Two years later and here I am in the forest of the small town of Forks.
As the memories and the pain faded away I slowly came back to the present. I had changed into human form during my somewhat catatonic state. I looked down at myself to see that I was dressed me and was against Edith’s chest. She was humming a calming lullaby.
I sat like that for awhile listening to the tune. I depended on Edith; probably more than she ever would know. She was my gift from God, my rock, my only family now.
After a few more minutes of sitting there I took several deep breaths and sat up. We both stared into the forest. It was becoming dark rather quickly, but I didn’t feel like going back to the cottage yet.
“How long was I out?” I asked.
“No longer than usually. An hour or so, I stop counting the minutes now.” Deafening silence filled the air.
“Thank you.” I whispered quietly looking at the ground. I felt bad for needing Edith so much, but was selfishly rejoicing that she allowed me to do so.
“Eh,” she shrugged. “It’s no problem. You‘re my best friend; it’s what I’m supposed to do.” She said in an uninterested tone, but I knew better. She worries about me.
“I love you too Edith.” I said in a sickly sweet voice that I knew would annoy her to no end. I was trying to lighten the gloomy mood.
“Ugh. Now enough with all this mushy stuff.” She smiled, playfully punching me in the arm.
Edith stood up and help her hand out to me; I took it an pulled her into a tight hug.
“Now let’s head back to the cottage. We have tons of things to do tomorrow; it’s going to be a new and wonderful day for us. We are going to start really living and stop running when things get tough.”
When she said we, I knew she meant me. After the death of my parents I became reserved and stand-offish. Edith was the only one who I didn’t put a wall up for. I could just be myself, the broken girl, around her.
“Ok,” I sighed. I knew she was right. I needed to open up a little.
On the walk back to the cottage I let my mind ponder over what Edith said, “Tomorrow is going to be a new and wonderful day.” No more running…