Elusive Eternity

Chapter 3

Suffocating darkness, broken only by a flickering street lamp.

A small shiver runs down my spine as I pull my silk shawl closer around me. The thin material offers little protection against the chilled wind. A police siren begins to blare in the distance. The sharp sound shattering the tense silence, then fading. The street once again fills with a dangerous stillness.

I flinch as a crash sounds from only a few meters behind me. My pace quickens. The soles of my shoes click out a frantic pace against the concrete. A sudden deafening shout echoes down the street. My nails dig into my palms, the small jolt of pain helping to ground me.

Three more blocks until I reach my apartment. Just three more.

I curse my friend Rosie once again. Her fondness for alcohol was unprecedented, and she'd been taking every chance to indulge ever since prohibition was lifted a few months back. So it came as no surprise that she would drag me along to attend the annual party hosted by the infamous Warner's. 

But what was supposed to be a night filled with dancing and socializing, was cut short. I found out that Rosie had not only recklessly accepted a ride home from a dancing partner she'd taken a liking to, but in her slightly drunken stupor, she'd also forgotten about me. Left to my own devices I had decided to risk the five block trek to my apartment. A decision I was now deeply regretting.

Glancing around, I note the familiar ice cream parlor.

Two more blocks.

I go to turn the next corner, but before I can I'm dragged backwards into a shadowed alleyway. A hand clamps down on my mouth before I can scream. 

"If you scream I'll gut you. Empty your pockets and give me all your money." A gruff voice demands.

My heart stops in my chest, and for a moment I'm unable to process his order.

Money? I'd loaned the last of my money to Rosie to pay for the cab to the party.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my wallet with shaking hands. My attacker's face is concealed in darkness but clutched in his right hand, I make out the faint form of a large knife. Raising it in a silent threat, he uncovers my mouth. 

"P-please I don't have any money with me." I whisper, my voice shaking as a tear tracks its way down my cheek.

Ripping the wallet from my grip, he tears it open before throwing it aside in anger.

"Is this some kinda joke?"  I feel his hot breath close against my cheek, before the knife is pressed against my throat. The weapon only one small movement away from drawing blood. A shout comes from nearby and I feel him startle. I feel a deep stinging pain as the blade slices clean across my throat. In a quick movement, he releases me, and I crumple. The knife clatters to the ground as my attacker flees.

Dazed, my hands reach up to my throat and come away wet. My mind can't seem to process the sticky red substance they're coated with.

Blood? My blood?

I open my mouth to scream out for help and all that comes out is a weak gurgle. Staring wide eyed at the sky above me, empty of any light, I feel helplessness consume me. My head lolls to the side, and I notice my shawl, its once pearly color now painted crimson. A cough wracks my body. Suddenly, I can't seem to find any air. Intense panic consumes me. Black spots dart into my vision and—  

I shoot up in bed, hands grasping my throat, the skin smooth and unharmed. My hair sticks to my sweat soaked neck and forehead. Hugging my knees close to my chest, I try to calm my erratic heartbeat.

I haven't had this nightmare in weeks, and this time it had seemed even more vivid than usual. As though I was right there. 

Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I focus on the light streaming through my sheer curtains. I glance down and note that I'm still wearing yesterday nights clothes. My exhaustion having pulled me to sleep before I could change.

My ears perk up as I hear muffled voices from downstairs. I get out of bed. Creeping to the door, I open it, wincing as it creaks slightly. The voices pause for a moment before continuing.

I inch my way to the staircase, stepping lightly across the hardwood floor. Reaching the top of the stairs, I peer into the foyer, careful to keep myself concealed from sight. The first thing I notice is my father. He's clad in one of his many business suits, briefcase in hand. My gaze then trails to the person he's speaking with.

Deborah. 

I feel a small shiver crawl down my spine as I remember our conversation from last night. She's dressed sharply as always, black pencil skirt and white blouse both pressed to perfection, auburn hair pulled back into a severe bun. I notice that she holds two cups of coffee, one of which she would always give to my father. 

I focus back onto their conversation.

"I should have all of the paperwork done by Thursday at the latest, and then once I've spoken with Mr. Nathan's lawyer everything should be finalized."

Deborah lips curve into a smile at my father's words. "You're a life saver, Peter. You've done so much for me."

My father ducks his head slightly and lets out a nervous laugh. He runs a hand absentmindedly through his hair. "Really it was no problem."

"No, really. Let me thank you properly. Dinner is on me tonight, I'll make us reservations at Pierre's. How does 8 o'clock sound?" She hands my father one of the coffees from her hand. 

He accepts the cup with a small thank you before grinning. "8 o'clock it is then."

Having heard enough, I've just turned around, ready to go back to my room when Deborah's voice makes me freeze. "Aveline, dear. Why don't you come on down. It's not nice to eavesdrop."

I let my eyes shut briefly in frustration. She'd most likely known I was there this whole time. This shouldn't even come as a surprise. 

After all, this woman seems to somehow know everything about me now.