In Times of Danger
Chapter Two - Falling Into Death's Cold Embrace
We sat together at the Funeral.
My Father sat tall in the stiff backed wooden chair in the front row of the fifty mourners, and I sat beside him. I watched silently, motionlessly, as they lowered the redwood casket into the ground. The engravings seemed so prominant, as thoguh they may spring to life any moment. We had never been religeus, my family and I. But I now found myself watching as an old minister who smelled strongly of pepper, incence, and some forign spice I could not Discern, sprinkled holy water onto the ornate box, speaking quietly in latin, his voice solid and bracing.
I could not let my father see how this had affected me, I reminded myself sternly as I forced back the tears. We were all each other had left, and I had to stay as strong as he was. From now on, we would have to crutch one another, and if I worried him, I would never be able to figive myself.
Quietly, I peered at him from the corner of my eye. Over his eyes seemed to lie a sleepless veil of the past four days. They had been spent contacting Friends- mom had no other family- And arranging, though somberly, a funeral. I couldnt' remember everything that my father had told me about the accident. Snippets would return to me for a few moments now and again. She had been just four blocks away from the university. A crash.
The car was gone, desroyed. The casket would be closed. 'Kat shouldn't have to see her like that.'
Everyone stood slowly, the priest motioning to my father and myself. We, too, stood. But instead of watching quietly, we stepped forward, next to the large red-hued lumber box that now contained the keystone to my family, as we whispered a thanks to the man who nodded solumnly back. My Father produced two roses. He silently habnded me the iced blue one, keeping the Crimson red fro himself. After a moment, he released a sigh, carefuly lying his rose where mum's heart would be, leaning down and kissing the engraving of an angel fighting off the seven demons of Sin. He strieghtened, watching as I stepped forward and placed my own rose across my mother's coffin, turning away and watchig as the guests left, heading back to thier cars. A Moment passed and suddenly, the sullen sky released it's own tears, the people running for the safety of shelter as I and my father stood alone together in the rain, watching as the workers came and carefully lowered the casket into the dark hole.
My eyes were trianed on the lowering Casket for a while, before some odd shape caught me peripheral vision. as my father still gazed sadly down into the pit, the Gravemen beginning to throw the soil back, my head turned for a double-take of what I had thought to be a boy of about nineteen standing next to a large weeping oak about ten feet away. I stared at the tree for a moment in wonder, it's secret companion now gone, and wondered if I had been seeing things. The boy had been very pale, his face and hands peeking from dark garb that fit this auspicius occasion. Perhaps he had been a ghost, here to take my mother to heaven.
I chided myself for such childish thoughts. My heaven had been destroyed by her death. I could not bring myself to realise that she was truly gone until that moment when there was no boy by the old willow tree. It hit me rather like one is hit by a sudden inspiration to write a story. Suddenly, and with a fierce drive for someone to hear you.
In the hours that followed, I forced the boy's ghostly image waway from me, going by my father's side to the wake and receiving the saddened, pitying looks that were offered, listening as the older people- many of whom I barley knew- Came up to offewr thier condolences. I suppose it was then that I realised something else connected with her death. These people would leave here, and in about a week or so, return to normal, completely forgetting my mother and her tragic death. And I and my father would be truely alone.
As we drove home, there was a searing silence that shouted out to me in the small suburban car. i deared not speak as we pulled into the drive, her space was precariusly empty, and we both toed around it quietly, going to our small tudor home, closing the old oak door on the rain's chill and remaining silent.
We spent only an hour lingering around the ground floor- finding happy memories had turened painful here now- before we both spoke for the first time to one another that day, saying our good-night's and heading upstairs.
I went to my room, sitting up until ten o'clock when I finally fell aslepp in my cushioned window seat, the red gossomer drapes hanging open around the window as my head rested gently on the sill, my eyes closing into a gently sleep.
My Father would not find sleep so easily for years to come. That night, he slept in the living room, unable to face thier bedroom without my mother.
~6 years later~
With a sigh, I stepped out from my English Honors AP4 class, feeling the cool air rush to meet me happily once again. It was mid September, lunchtime at Mainland High, and I wanted nothing more than to retreat to the large quad and eat at my small apple and half a turkey sandwich.
Dad would be sitting in the local Library, opening his own lunch sack and peering tiredly inside as the students of the small community college mulled about him, continuing their studdies as silently as they could.
Everywhere I went today, I had been hearing the excited whisperings and jitterings of the girls, thier annoyingly high voices and sad attempts to follow the latst fashions grinding into my self control, making it increasingly difficult for me to stop from throwing my Physics book at them. They always gossiped, but today we had gained a new student- an almost unheard of thing in such a small school in the middle of nowhere- and they were all mulling about trying to gain his attention.
I was probably one of a handful of people in the town who weren't leaping up to great him. I didn't care though. I had my own concerns, and in my dark garb of simple black jeans and a long sleeve black pinstripe shirt, there was little chance that my form would be singled out. My pale complection had not changed since I was a child. I, in fact, had barely changed. My eyes were still the same muted golden honey color they had been when I was thirteen and pacing happily along the rows in the Oxford library. My hair had grown out, now reaching down to my shoulder blades in soft midnight curls instead of the warm tangled mess it used to be. I was unnoticable, and that was how I liked things. My glasses, though onlyneeded for the white board, were set firmly on the bridge of my nose, dulling the affect of my eyes.
Nothing to notice, as it were. The only other developments were nothing more than what every othe rgirl on the earth my age had. I wasn't even tall, just average.
I had seen the boy out of the corner of my eye. Though, Even I had to admit he was a sort of magnet for attention. He was pale- Paler than me, for one- and tall. He had to stand at least a head above me. I had caught a glimpse of him as he walked by me in the rush to my second class, and his eyes had caught me slightly for a mometn before I ducked away into the crowd. They were the most shocking color of honey Brown I had ever seen. Not exactly light honey, but a dark maple that seemed to fade to his pupil. He had probably immediately looked away, seieng nothing in me, and I was comfortable with that. What i wasn't comfortable with was turning into the Quad and running streight into a Sight I thoguht I would never want to see. He sat in the middle of the knoll area, fifteen girls swarming him as he scanned them with a blank face. THey all crowded around, asking him questions, throwing names about- asking for His name. Then it hit me- I had no idea what his name was. He smiled slightly, his lips curving as though he were a cat who'd eaten the canary. The girls all squealed and it carried to me And I twitched, bringing myself into the shadows and beginning to edge toward my tree, trying not to be seen.
As I reached the large, old oak tree that stood on it's own on the large grassy knoll in the middle of the Quad, I peered over again at the large group, and was again met witht he warm honeyed gaze that belonged to the new boy. For a moment, I hesitated. He looked as though he were hiding a deep hunger that was forbidden by every moral known to man. Just like that, my eyes widened and his looked hastily away, and I was left internally cursing my stupid thoughts. I was loking too deeply into what his eyes were. Turning bakc, i went to the old oak, setting my bag and books down and then sitting, myself. I pulled out my small lunch, beginning to pick at it as my eyes constantly wandered around, forcing myslef to look at anything but the new boy.
Soon enough, the bell was going to ring for class. I glanced at my watch- I had eaten faster than I thought. There was still twenty minutes left of lunch. With a sigh, I pulled my bag closer, grabbing out my large reading book and opening the old pages to where I'd left off, the scent of old books and parchment wafting to meet me like an old friend. If there was one thing I missed about Oxford's library, it was the engulfing abundance of this scent. With a sigh, I delved into the world of the old English royalty and lords, and into the story of a young girl and a mystery in an old English family. Just as Lady Emily was opening the door to a dark room, a knife concealed in her long, flowing nightdress sleve, a shadow flew over my page, startling me out of my reveire.
Slightly shocked, and definately a little more than paranoid due to the nature of the novel I was emmersed in, I looked up and almost yelped as i was met with the crouching form in front of me with honey golden eyes. My eyes widened and I jumped slightly as the smirk left the new boy's face, a slightly frown taking it's place. "H-helo..." I murmered, inching away and shutting my book to give myself some room.He said nothing, sitting back on his heels as his eyes inspected me quietly. i shifted uncomfortably, my gaze going to my hands for a moment.
Finally, I'd had enough of his gaze, snapping, "Take a picture and leave me alone."
As his eyes narrowed curiusly at me, I looked around, ready to call out to a fermilliar face for help. It was then that I noticed two things. One, The bell had already rung. And Two, Nobody was near, meaning classes had started, and I was missing fifth period. With wide eyes, I turned my gaze back to the boy before me, his gaze never having left me.
"I was just going to ask if you had a fifth and were skipping or if you just didn't hear the bell." he said simply. My eyes narrowed this time, standing quickly and flattening my clothing as I bent to pick up my bag. A pale hand shot out before me, handing me my bag as I stood, dumbfounded by his speed. With wide eyes, I roughly grabbed my bag, my hand colliding with cold, smooth flesh. I turned, and froze. It was his hand. I began stepping quickly away, trying to gain ground away from him- for some reason, my flight instinct had been triggered. I sensed danger from him even though he appeared a normal, though pale, boy. A storng grip caught my writst gently, turnign me with it's cold embrace to face him again. his eyes were quizical as he stepped closer, and i flinched back slightly. "What is your name?" his voice was smooth, almost enticing, but I still felt the deep need to run.
I glared into his eyes, failing to bite back the insult, "I don't tell my name to stupid boys who I don't know." My eyes narrowed, looking away from his raised eyebrow and frowning face.
"I am Jasper. Jasper Whitlock, I just moved into town as you already know, from near Oxford, as it were. Now, what is your name?" he said politely, keeping his smooth and icy grip on my wrist.
My eyes widened at the sound of my father's old institute and I barely registered as my mouth opened and answered his question.
"I'm Katrina. Katrina Lengden." I sadi only half-aware. Jasper smiled lightly, releasing my hand and turning away. I shook myself, turning away as well and running off, deciding not to bother with going into ffth late and to just go home early. Jasper Whitlock...
What a strange boy, I mused. and Somhow- He was fermiliar to me.
take it back?
