The Beast of Yeller Wood

Chapter Eleven

I do realize this chapter is short, I know I am pure evil for pulling on with the suspense and jazzzzz. But that's my thing, I am a villian. Bwahahaha, thanks for reading my madness! -Olivia

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“Ms. White, you have more visitor for tonight.” Sheriff Patterson announces,

                I rise up from the grimy bed laid down on the filthy floor. My face is tear ridden, and I am sure that my eyes are puffy and red. I am shamed by this; I should be a woman not a child when I die. But I am not. With the edge of my sleeve I wipe the last of the tears off of my face before I look up to meet the eyes of my visitor wearily.

                It is John. My throat goes dry; this stranger I am in love with comes to meet me before my death.

                Sheriff Patterson gives me a look that could almost be taken as pity before he exits the room. I slowly rise and walk over to the bars. I can’t even look at him, I love him so much. But I, in my own way of sorts just declared my version of love to Perry. Can I truly love two people at the same time? I feel like a fickle little prick for being so absurd and capricious romantically, not like it will matter much in a few hours.

                I finally got myself to look up into those limitless eyes; it’s like basking in a desert sun or dancing on clouds. If it was my way, I could do this forever. There would be no need to travel across the planet; he is like my personal oasis.

                And then he shattered our gaze, and broke our silence.

                “I love you.” He blurts out,

                My heart races, he loves me too. We are two strangers that are in love.

                And all I do is nod. I nod like an imbecile! What has possessed me?

                And it comes out like a whisper, like the distant rush of water or the breeze catching the leaves on a tree: “I love you.” I respond,

                Our lips collide, blood rushes, my heart spins wildly, and I get a smidge drunk of it. Just kill me now, I would die a happy soul with this my last memory—this as my last moment. Who knew that in my last few hours I could be gifted with the most joyous moment in my life? Our lips part, my heart thuds in ecstasy. This isn’t like the other times, it is completely, and utterly different and yet so familiar. To put it into words fully would be unattainable. There was so much passion; the only flaw was there was an underlying tone of defeat and desperation. So just kill me now, the Beast doesn’t need me that bad. Or he could just come before midnight, that whole part is extremely melodramatic and theatrical.

                Just let me die, with my hands in his hair. With his hands slid through the bars around my hips, and let me die with my fingers grazing down his neck. There wouldn’t be a greater pleasure than to let my die twisted and intertwined with these wretched prison bars and his body. If there was a finer way to die tell me, because there would be nothing more perfect than dying this way. Just let me die with my lips locked with John Merton’s. But fate doesn’t want that. There are other plans for me.

                Our lips separate, it is a shock to my body. Everything feels like it just paused, my heart, his heart, the world, everything.

                “John…I don’t want to die.” I murmur,

                It was like he was in the most excruciating pain, as if he was being torn to pieces. But you could only tell on his face, there was such horror and hurt.

                “Belinda, I am going to do what I can to save you.”

                “We are talking about the Beast, it is all for naught. Don’t, I beg you. I want you to leave Yeller and go do something incredible I know you can. Go fall in love with someone who deserves all of your greatness, I ask you that. And one last thing, don’t forget me. Just move on, but don’t forget. We can’t be that beautiful temple that turned into a forgotten rune. Just leave it intact and preserved and move on to a greater one.” I trace lightly upon his open palm with my finger,

                He looks down and pulls away, “I wish it was as simple as that Belinda, I really do. But it isn’t, one day you will know why. But tonight, you will live. I can tell you that, there isn’t a chance that the beast will claim you. Just know tonight isn’t your death, but there is no going back to life in simple Yeller lugging pails of water and picking berries in the woods.”

                He draws his thumbs across my cheek, tingles run from head to toe. And then he pulls away, with what feels like a part of me. I am not sure if I should believe in him but I do, all the odds are against it. But I lie my faith in him, what does it matter if he is wrong? I shall die anyways then if that is so. He walks off into the night. The night air, the night that held dead ends and open doors ahead of me giving me optimism and cynicism.