Tale of the Gifted Beings

chapter 15

chapter 15

THE COLD RAIN HAD dwindled to a soft patter, its gentle rhythm tapping against my skin. The sky hung low over the forest canopy, obscuring the tops of the towering trees. I was nestled against the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, its bark rough against my tear-stained cheeks. It offered me a meager shelter as I found myself lost. To be honest, never have I felt so guilty. Scared. Alone.

My heart pounded in my chest due to the haunting memory that had made its unwelcome return. The man in black. A shudder raced through me as the image of Elliot's death crept in the corners of my mind, the sight resembling a chilling resonance of my pain that I wished desperately to forget. Although he was not the same person who took Elliot's life—due to the distinct scar on the eye of the person who killed Elliot—the sight of the man wearing a black trench coat caused me to snap. His power over me, the control he held over my very shadow, sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through my veins. It was as if the very essence of me became his marionette, dancing on a string of darkness at his sinister command.

My heart ached—a gnawing, raw pain that seemed to consume me from the inside out. I missed Elliot. I wanted to say the three-letter words to him. To say how much I missed him. But, you know, that seems impossible now. He's gone, his light snuffed out too soon, and all that was left was the chill of his absence and the memory of his lifeless body on cold, unforgiving ground.

Tears streamed down my face, pooling at the base of my throat and soaking the collar of my damp dress. I could taste the saltiness on my lips as I cried, as I screamed, and then as I whimpered.

"I miss you," I cried through the air, as if it would transport my words to Elliot.

Through the blur of my tears, I saw a shadowy figure inch closer. Ophelia's black, sleek fur moved with a little grace. Her green eyes bore into mine, a silent comfort in my moment of despair. She nestled against me, her soft purrs resonating with my stuttering heartbeat. I reached out with a shaky hand, burying my fingers in her plush fur. Ophelia leaned into my touch, a purr rumbling in her throat. In her silent companionship, I found a flicker of solace. At least.

Slowly, the forest around us seemed to hold its breath, the drone of the rain and the rustle of the leaves fading into a distant murmur. As I sat there, nestled against the ancient tree, with Ophelia by my side, I let the tears flow, letting the forest bear witness to my pain. I could feel the edges of my sanity fraying, like an old, discarded tapestry left to the mercy of time and neglect. The sight of the man dressed in a black coat, even though he wasn't the one who killed Elliot, plunged a dagger of remembered horror straight into the heart of my being.

Seriously, I thought I was already fine, but it looks like I'm still not. The ghost of his last gasp, the life fading from his eyes—it was a memory I carried like an albatross around my neck. And what makes it worse is that grief is like an insidious creature. It creeps up on you, even when you think you're safe, and it swallows you whole. It's the silent consort that joins you when you're alone, the dark cloak that wraps around you when the world is too much. It's the constant whisper in your ear, reminding you of what you've lost and of the void that can never be filled.

My heart felt heavy in my chest, like a stone sinking in the ocean, pulling me under. I was drowning. It was a struggle every day to keep my head above the surface and not let the waves of grief sweep me away. I was not sure I was winning.

As if nature itself were reflecting my mood, the rain began to lighten, the drumming on the leaves above reducing to a soft patter. The man in black was gone; he disappeared into the forest as quickly as he had appeared. I was alone again, alone with my thoughts, my memories, and my pain. I pushed myself to my feet, my body feeling heavy and numb. My clothes were soaked through, clinging to my skin like a second layer.

I couldn't remember how far I had strayed from the orphanage, though. Had I been walking for hours? Minutes? The forest had a way of distorting time and making you feel like you'd been wandering for an eternity. I had no idea which way was home; the trees all looked the same, and the path I had taken was washed away by the rain.

My fingers curled instinctively around Ophelia, her body nearly disappearing within my grasp. Her fur, a patchwork of black fur, felt like a comforting weave of warmth and familiarity against the chill of the evening air. I felt a sharp pang of thirst clawing at my throat, a relentless reminder of the endless hours spent wandering in the wilderness. I gently drew Ophelia closer to my chest, feeling her heart pulsating rapidly, matching my own. The soft purring sound seemed like a lullaby, trying to soothe my parched throat and my restless mind. My senses, heightened by desperation, caught the faintest sound that promised salvation—tthe distant murmur of a brook. It was a sound as sweet as a symphony to my ears, seeming to whisper, "Come, drink, live."

I took off in the direction of the sound, my feet lightly brushing against the forest floor. My heart pounded in sync with the rhythm of my strides, each thump echoing loudly. I then burst through a curtain of weeping willows, their long tendrils swaying like ghostly apparitions. Before me, a brook—not so much a crashing torrent, but a gentle, meandering stream—had its waters dappled in the distance. The sight was breathtaking, like a painter's masterpiece come alive, every detail vivid and vibrant, from the shimmering water to the moss-ridden stones lining its banks.

I kneeled by the water's edge, my hand trembling as I reached out to the brook. The cool liquid felt like silk against my skin, the chill seeping into my parched veins, providing a momentary respite from the dryness. I cupped my hands and brought them to my lips. The water tasted like nothing I'd ever known before. I drank until my thirst was quenched, until the rawness in my throat was replaced by the sweet, cool sensation of hydration.