The past is something most people look back on lovingly, with their adorable childhood, accepting friends, and shining parents. This was not the case for me, who winces every time I gaze at small children with their parents, bringing back a sickening nostalgia that makes it hard to breathe. Memories of hands and dark shadows filled my mind, making me close my eyes, willing the images to stop flashing brightly like blinding streetlamps while whispers coddled my ear with words that cut my heart.
You do not deserve happiness. You are a monster. Charlotte! Are you listening to me? Go in the closet and pray, maybe God will punish you for your sins! You whore! You are not allowed to see boys. Mongrel. Sinner.
A hand carrying a knife, blood spilling from myself, words of prayer, dark shadows of pain making me whimper to myself every night.
STOP. I willed the images away as if punching a stone wall. They slowly backed away into the dark recesses of my mind and I sighed. You see, I was born with a gift to see the non-seen, the supernatural if you will, and I was always reminded how “different” I was compared to everyone else. It comes to the point where I ignore the soft darkness of the lost souls wandering the streets of London, looking for some unknown end.
“Excuse me m’lady, is this seat taken?” A soothing voice jumped from the cold air. A young man stood before me with gleaming green eyes and a warm smile.
“No, please, take it” I tried a smile, but it kind of went into a shy shrug. Something about this man caught my attention though. He had an air of mystery surrounding him, as if his thoughts had something to hide despite his comforting appearance.
“May I ask what is your name, fair lady?” He leaned onto the small table and stared at me with a smirk, those glaring green eyes taunting me.
“It’s Charlotte, and what do you want exactly, Green Eyed Stranger?” I answered giving him a combatting stare back, challenging him to open up that little dark head of his. He seemed the type to have a plan, probably to pick up random women for pleasure, as most men do these days.
“Oh, your words are wounds to my heart, Ms. Charlotte. Don’t you think I just want to get to know such a beautiful woman? You do seem lonely, and no surname?” He was definitely seemed intrigued by me, having the opposite effect I wanted. This was turning into a weird direction.
“And what is your name, stranger? You seem to want something from me already.” I asked, raising my brow. I crossed my arms, willing him to go away already. Inside, though, I secretly wanted him to stay. He was becoming more interesting than most boring men are. His attentions seemed to be on my icy blue eyes, instead of what lies beneath my dark brown garments.
“People call me Lord Gregory Beasley, but please call me Gregory. Now, to more important matters, I know what you are Ms. Charlotte and you intrigue me enough to let me ask you for your assistance.” He sat back with his arms folded, giving a more business-like look to his face. I wondered whether I saw the shadow of his clothing move, but I was guessing it was just the flickering streetlamp.
“Excuse me? What do you mean by, you know what I am?” I was shocked by his words as he was getting to the point of his plans.
“You can see the dead, the things that linger in the dark, am I correct?”
“Umm… no-,”
“Try to be honest with me, Ms. Charlotte. I know what you are and that you’re perfect for what I need. It would be disappointing if your ‘talents’ would be wasted. Here are the details of the job, come by here tomorrow at dawn, if you are prepared for the dark and dangerous journey. However, if you are too faint of the heart, I won’t bother you again. Have a good day, Ms. Charlotte” He sat up and gave me a sinister smile and headed down the faintly lit cobblestone street.
I could of sworn he whispered something as he passed by.
Don’t deny your dark desires.
