Twilight Embrace (Completed)

Chapter 9

The sun streamed through his open window. The bright sunlight shining in his eyes woke him from a deep sleep filled with visions of her sitting upon the rocks, her hair blowing softly in the wind.  He sat bolt upright and shook his head trying to clear his foggy mind and focus.  Had he dreamed everything, or did it all really happen? Had he really seen her? Did she really speak to him?  Her voice sounded so heavenly, he could listen to her talk all day.  And he really hoped he would get the opportunity again very soon.

After his shower he pulled on shorts and a vest and ran downstairs.  In the kitchen he put the kettle on for his addictive morning coffee, without which he could not start his day. With the cup in one hand he went out onto the patio to sit on the steps and drink his coffee.  Sipping slowly, his gaze ventured down towards the lake, still wondering if he had dreamt everything.

A bird flew onto the bottom step trying to catch an insect, as he watched the one sided battle of nature, something unusual in the sandy walkway to the lake, caught his eye.  It was writing, someone had written something in the sand. He stood up and walked down the stairs to have a closer look.  He could not believe what he was seeing. If he ever needed proof that he had not been dreaming last night, then here it was!  Written in the sand was the most beautiful name he had ever read…….. Annjelica, and all the way down the path leading to the water’s edge, were yellow rose petals.

His heart beat so loud in his chest he could hear it in his ears.  His breathing seemed heavy and he found it hard to get enough air into his lungs. There was such an adrenalin rush, like something he had never experienced before.  He felt light headed and sank to his knees, his fingers lightly tracing the letters in the sand, carefully moving from one letter to the next.  Unable to believe her name was really written in the sand outside his cottage.  How had he not heard her, not been aware that she was there?  At least now he knew he was not dreaming, imagining her. She really did exist; she was not a figment of his imagination.

He hurried through his breakfast, dressed, and then racing down the stairs, he grabbed his car keys and headed into the village to sort out a few things, hoping it would not take too long!!  He wanted to dash back so he could swim across to the other side of the lake; he had to see if he could find where she lived.  He just had to meet her, desperately wanted to see her.

In the village he picked up his post, chatting to the ladies in the post office and enquiring from them if they knew anything about the castle across the lake and if anyone had taken up residence again since the previous owners.  They shook their heads, warning him to stay away, saying the castle was haunted and the only people living there were the old family’s ghosts.  In the winter a thick blanket of fog hung heavy over the mountain side where the castle stood and fisherman had often heard unearthly sounds drifting in on the wind, from that direction. He thanked them for his post and the warning and promised he would be careful. 

With a parting wave the ladies called out to him, “Don’t go exploring that castle on your own!”

Arriving home after a long tedious morning in the village, he rushed up the stairs, changed into his swimming trunks, grabbed a towel on his way out and headed off down to the lake, stopping briefly to touch her name still written in the sand. He ran through the trail of rose petals somewhat disturbed by the wind, dropped his towel and dived into the lake, shivering a little; the water seemed a little colder than usual.  He swam determinedly across the lake and did not stop till he got to the other side.  Stepping out of the water he noticed how different this side seemed.  The vegetation was heavier and greener, must be because it was constantly in the shadow of the mountain. It did not get the scorching hot sun all day long.

Not having noticed any form of a path when he emerged from the lake, he moved around through the shrubbery, searching for one. Surely there must be a pathway somewhere that she used to come down to the lake from this side.  He wondered around for a good hour before he stumbled upon the wild roses growing in what seemed the only sunny patch this side of the lake.  The mountain’s shadow did not seem to touch this little piece of brilliant colour.  The wild rose bushes, their brilliant yellow, spearing up through the green, extending their petals to the sun, seemed to fight for their rightful places amongst the creepers and tall ferns that threatened to suffocate them.  He walked amongst the roses, ignoring the thorns that caught at his skin, breathing in their scent, a smell he was now familiar with, touching their petals.

He roamed around for ages searching for some sign of a building, a fence or driveway that might lead to her home.  But found nothing.  The shadows from the mountain now spread right down to the water front, it was late and he was getting really cold.  A chilly wind had come up and storm clouds were appearing above the mountain.  He decided to turn back and make his way home, not looking forward to the cold swim back across the lake to his cottage.  Passing through the wild roses, he picked one and holding it between his teeth, swam back to the rocky outcrop and left the rose on a rock in plain view of her side of the lake, hoping she would see it and know he had crossed over to her side looking for her.

Not knowing why he did it, he kissed the rose petals before placing it on the rock and weighting it down so the wind would not blow it away. It suddenly occurred to him that this time when he touched the rose to his lips they did not tingle as they had before when the rose had come from her. An eerie chill filled the air making him shiver unexpectedly and he swam hurriedly to his side of the lake. He ran all the way back up to the cottage to see if her name was still in the sand.  Yes, it was still there! Not as clear as before, thanks to the wind, but it was still there. Tangible enough to believe it was real.  He paused before entering the cottage, realizing that this side of the lake was so much warmer, as the sun was still shinning here; it had not yet dipped behind the mountain.