Present Drifter

Chapter 5

Air fills my lungs like I've just gotten air after swimming for a long period of time. I jolt up and curl forward as I begin coughing. There's an empty void in my chest from where I got shot. My hand has come to cradle the same spot as before.

"Hey, are you ok?" Victoria asks, coming over to place her hand on my back. She looks down at me with her face scrunched in concern. My hand moves to cover my mouth as my cough slows and eventually stops.

"Yea, sorry." I answer, letting my hand fall to my side. I've ended up sitting on the couch instead of laying down like I was before I- I don't know.

Victoria falls back into the seat next to me again. Her gaze lingers on me for a moment before her attention turns back to the television. New Girl still plays out on the screen. It's as if I was never gone, never traveled anywhere. Maybe I didn't.

It feels like a dream now, but has settled like a memory. It's fuzzy and odd like a dream. It's clear and exact just like a memory. I mean I felt pain. I got shot and I felt every excruciating moment of it. An ache forms in my chest as I remember that moment.

I'm reminded of my kiss with William as I think about what I felt other than pain. That kiss was incredible. It was just like kissing Daxon. He was just like Daxon. Except well, he lived in 1892.

William looked, acted just like Daxon. My name was Ella. My mom looked and acted the same. All of our names were different and yet, we were all the same. It's as if we all existed back then and also exist now. It's almost as if I somehow traveled back into one of my previous incarnations. Is reincarnation real?

My crazy thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. In response, I close my eyes and let out a sigh. Who else could be here right now? Victoria came because of my breakup with Daxon and I didn't tell anyone else except Kenneth.

"I'll get it babe," Victoria states, standing up and walking in front of me to get to the front door. Her hand gentle brushes across my shoulder as she moves past.

Kenneth calmly comes into the room as Victoria leaves, with a pop tart clutched in his hand that has a corner nibbled off. He sits on the arm rest of the couch with his eyes locked on the front door. My head falls into my hands as a headache begins to settle in. Whatever happened is making my brain hurt.

I hear the door swoosh open and someone, a man it sounds like, say something. Victoria's voice follows. The conversation is muffled but honestly I don't care to try and hear it. It's probably a door to door salesman or one of those faith people who come trying to get you to go to church. Honestly, I wish we had one of those peepholes so I could just pretend to not be home every time a stranger knocks on my door.

The person's voice raises a little and Kenneth turns to look at me when it does. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are tightly furrowed. Crumbs fall from his hand as his grip around his pop tart tightens. I think he's nervous. I straighten my back a little so I can see the door over the back of my couch.

Victoria's arms are crossed in front of her and she's leaning slightly back in frustration. She's blocking most of the view of the knocker but I still figure out who it is.

He slowly glances at me through the slit between Victoria and the wall as she scolds him. Daxon's lips have fallen into a frown and his eyes look dark, sad almost. His focus bounces from Victoria to me and then back to her.

He says something to her but I still can't hear what. That's when I realize that they've been whispering. Their voices did get faintly louder but I can always hear my mom from here when she answers the door.

Victoria tries to close the door but Daxon places his hand on it, keeping it wide open.

"Get out." I hear her scold, the whispers finally gone. Daxon's eyes find their way back to me. He stares at me with his fallen eyes, pleading with me.