Chapter 55 – Frosty Predicament, Bozeman Christmas (Samson Conrad POV) Pt.2
"Taylor did what?" Fatima says softly, her voice heavy. No maybe it's not so much her voice but the fog that I have to hear her through. "Are you sure?"
There is silence.
I wish for it to be filled somehow as my body feels as though I've been dipped in ice. Left to freeze. Chill from the outside in. It wouldn't take much; the blood running in my veins is filled with ice.
"It was a lovely ceremony," Taylor said softly. She went to the wake and funeral that I could not snap out of my rage and disbelief to attend. "I mean Silas would have hated it. Everyone was crying and all and you know he would have wanted us to secretly have water balloons to toss at one another," as the memory floods my sense, I curse my self.
I crave the quiescence.
"It – it should have been both of us," I whispered brokenly, weeks later. Taylor shakes her head from left to right rapidly, hair fanning out. "This was not your fault. Silas was reckless Samson, you know that."
Now. Not then. The air inside me rushes out and her words echo in my head, cut off in places. "Okay, I'm writing."
"B – E – R – T – Y – D – E – E – L – A – N – O – R."
"B – E – T – R – A – Y – N – O – E – L – D – E – R."
"Yes, I understand, okay. Yes."
"I'm a constant remind of what they lost Tay," she was the one I could say these things too, she missed my twin not more than myself, but enough to be able to relate to the loneliness that spread after Silas died. "No, you... I'm – I miss him Samson," she cried, wiping tears from her cheeks, "But, it would be unbearable if you would have been taken from everyone too." It was harsh winter without him.
"Why him? Why not me?"
"When my older sister died, Javier asked our parents that and they said that sometimes we love people that are not meant to be with us forever. That we should think of her as our guardian angel-"
"No he's not. He's just... frozen," Fatima says.
At the same time, I feel pressure against my skin. My hand.
"I keep looking for signs," I revealed to the person I trusted most. "What kind of signs?" she asked me in return, hanging on my every word, with no intention of looking at me as though I had partially lost my mind. She was the only one that didn't gaze at me with pity or worse, longing. Never had I hated my face as I had then.
It never went away.
I had the face of a ghost. Guilt and the face of what was lost was my cross to bear.
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Loving Ashlynn (#Wattys2016)
Werewolf"Her name isn't Sophie, I lied, her name is Fatima Safiya Ashlynn - I thought she would die where I left her."
