"Come on Poppy! Lets go" mum squeals from the living room, the excitement in her voice noticeable as I hear her rush around the house, gathering her belongings and her bag.
I breathe in a shuttering breath as the panic rises in my chest. Today is the day I find out who my Darling is. Or was. My brand aches at the thought or is that my heart? I don't know; all I know is that all the answers to my questions since I turned eighteen are going to be answered today.
Placing my hand over my brand, I rub away the ache. I take deep breathes in and out as I glance at the park across the street, watching the usual Darlings and their children run around happily.
What if he's alive? And breathing and wondering where I am? My stomach erupts in butterflies at the thought but sinks again when I realise that would mean breaking it to West, having him lose someone close to him again.
"Poppy!" mum shouts, her impatience getting the best of her.
"Coming!" I shout back as I grab a jacket and my bag that holds all of my identification inside. My shoes click along the floor as I meet mum at the front door.
"You got everything?" she asks.
"Yeah" I breathe out, my hands slightly shaking.
"Hey" mum grabs my cheeks with her hands "everything will be fine, either way it goes" she says softly "look at your father and I" she smiles. She does her best to sell the idea of her and dad having a perfect marriage.
I give her a nod, mirroring her smile.
"Lets go" she says, locking the front door behind us.
*
The church looms in the distance, the cross above the front entrance shines in the sun. There's not many people around, the shops on the other side of the street have a few people meandering around but the church seems to be empty.
"Do you want me to come with you?" mum asks as she pats my leg when she notices the anxiousness on my face.
"No" I give her a weak smile "it's okay" I take a deep breath before opening the car door.
"Good luck, hunny" she says as I close the door.
The wind is cold on my face, it whips my hair around my head in a cyclone, getting caught in my mouth and hitting me in the eyes. My skin rises in goosebumps from the cold. Or nerves, I don't know.
The door to the church swings in the wind as it lies barely open for anyone to walk in. I walk up the steps before bringing my hand to the door and knocking on it. The wooden door sounds hollow to my touch as I push it open and stick my head around the corner.
"Hello?" I call out, my voice echoing in the empty church.
I hear a bang somewhere within, making me jump before a priest comes out from behind a door off to the left.
"Hello dear, come in" he waves me in. I step into the church and close the door behind me. The preist walks smoothly, almost like he's walking on air as his older face holds wisdom along with a few wrinkles.
"What's your name, dear?"
"Poppy" I reply.
"Nice to meet you, Poppy, I'm Preist Simons" he smiles as his airy voice carries across the room.
"Nice to meet you" I give a tight smile back to him.
He clears his throat as he waves me further into the church. "What can I do for you?" he asks.
My eyes glance past him to the book that lies open on the stand underneath the coloured pane windows. The sun shines in through the window, lighting up the book.
Preist Simons follows my gaze. He clicks his tongue and clapses his hands behind his back.
"Oh, you want to find your Darling?" he smiles warmly as he makes his way over to the book. I follow in his footsteps as I nod.
He closes the book, dust escaping from underneath it. He waves his hand back and forth, clearing the dust in the air.
"Alright, it's in alphabetical order by last names. If you need anyting I'll just be through that door" he pats my shoulder as he walks back over to the door he came from.
"Thank you" I call.
"You're welcome, dear". The door shuts behind him and I'm left alone. The silence of the church is oddly peaceful as candles burn across the room.
The leather of the book is old and rough as I run my hand over the front cover.
"Book of lovers" I whisper as I read the title.
I flip to the first page, opening up all the last names that start with 'A'. I take a deep breath, doing my best to stop the shaking in my hands, not wanting to ruin the delicate book.
"A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H" I whisper under my breath as I flick through the pages, names of people I went to school with and people I know around town flash past my eyes. I don't stop to look at them, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
Some of the names have a blank space next to them, showing the deseased. The name of a Platonic is placed next to them instead. I brace myself to see the exact same next to my name with my Platonic being West.
I drag my finger down the rows of H last names, my heart beating rapidly as I wait for my eyes to find my last name.
"Harris, Harren, Harrow" I whisper quietly. A squeal of a bird makes me jump.
"Hart, Poppy" I find it. My breath catches in my throat as I focus my eyes on my name, not wanting to move them to the right and see the space his name once filled.
I slowly drag my eyes over; my middle name comes into view as well as my date of birth. I pinch my leg through my pants, trying my best to focus my mind.
I take one final breath before holding it and looking at the name.
"Rose, Hex" his brand, identical to mine is shown besides his name. My brand feels like it's on fire as I read the name aloud, the burning hotter then any other time before.
1/3/1990. He's 28 years old, six years older then me.
Underneath his name is West's as my Platonic.
My eyebrows pull together as I look again. There's a red line through Hex's name. My eyes skim the rest of the names on the page; his is the only one with a line through it. What's that mean?
I don't think he's dead otherwise his name would be blank.
I quickly flip through several pages looking for any other name with a red line through it and come up empty.
"What?" I whisper as I push a shrand of hair behind my ear.
I'd never heard of him before, Hex isn't a name easily forgotten.
The sound of something falling onto carpet is heard from behind the door that Preist Simons sits behind. I look back at Hex's name, the red line being the only thing I can see. I slam the book shut, sending a cloud of dust up again.
I make my way to the door of Preist Simons office.
"Come in" he calls once I knock "How can I help?" he asks when I step into the room.
"What's a red line through a Darlings name mean?" I watch as the colour drains from his face, the once cheery expression wanting to help me find my Darling changes drastically. His jaw falls slightly as he takes a deep breath.
"Preist Simons?" I call; my own face paling.
"Do you have a Platonic?" he asks as he clears his throat. He pulls the glasses off his face and places them on his desk as he clapses his hands together in front of him.
I nod.
"Be with your Platonic" he says. My breath catches in my throat, no one ever advises choosing a Platonic over a Darling, you're basically asking for a failed relationship knowing your Darling is out there and alive.
"- But my Darling" I argue. He keeps his calm but he seems to be becoming frustared as his eyebrows pull further together and he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.
"Ignore it" he says, his voice having finality to it.
"Is he alive?" I ask, praying he gives me an answer. He's silent for a long while as he looks down at the papers on his desk before looking back up at me.
"Yes" I nod back, my heart leeping into my throat "don't expect to ever meet him though" he warns as he puts his glasses back and goes back to the work that lies on his desk.
My heart that was in my throat sinks to my ass in seconds. I wait a few seconds more, wanting him to explain further but when he doesn't I step out of the room and close the door behind me.
I take one last look at the book as the sun that once shone on it has dimmed, clouds covering it. I make my way to the door, my shoes clicking the floor with every step.
It takes a lot of strengh to pull open the big wooden door; it slams shut behind me.
I see mums car in the distance, waiting for me.
I pinch at my skin, hoping to pull my distracted mind away from Hex. My branding now a low simmer.
The wind seems colder then before, mum sees me before I reach the car. A smile splits her face before fading when she sees my own.
"Hi honey, how'd it go?" she questions when I sit in the passenger seat, putting my seatbelt on.
"It was okay" I reply. I rub my throat, hoping to get rid of the lump that's making it hard to breathe.
"Is he alive?" she asks quietly. I take a minute to respond, not sure how I should tell her. Preist Simons did say I'd never meet him, that's practically the equivalent to being dead.
"Yeah mum, he's dead" I sigh. She places her hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze before releasing a breath.
"Well, at least you have West" she gives me a weak smile; I mirror it back to her as my palms sweat.
At least I have West.