annnnnnddddddd(drum roll please!) this is the final chapter of part 2! Wahhoooo!
yay
okayz. well. this is a chapter thats supposed to bring you back to earth. All hte other chatpers take up into fantasy land and this ones supposed make you realize your mortal fears, problems, and dangers. what ya think?
Playlist is in the external link thingy
Song: Shattered (Turn This Car Around) by O.A.R.
Okay, and i know the picture is a repeat of the cover, but the scene on the cover comes from this chapter.
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Chapter 16
I'm Not Leaving You
My mother has a good memory.
When I woke in the morning I was miserable, but happy. I put on my good face and ran to clean the bathroom. I didn't get dressed; the sweats and guys' long-sleeve sports shirt would do for what I had planned today. I skipped downstairs, not wanting to startle my mom with my new hair cut.
However, it didn't work. She shrieked, "What did you do to your hair?"
"I cut it," I said defensively.
"I can see that. But why?" she dropped her jaw and stared at it.
"I got tired of it making me sweaty and since it was my birthday I thought it would be a good time for change," I realized that was the wrong thing to say after I said it. My mother turned sheet white and closed her mouth.
After gulping back down whatever she had begun to upchuck, she said, "You're leaving? Aren't you?"
"Heavens, no!" I said.
"Yes you are. You are seeming sad lately and now this! There is always a clean-up right before! You tried to find fitting clothes last time!"
"NO! No I'm not!" where was she getting these ideas?
"Yes you are! Go...glue it back on!"
"Glue it back on?" I asked incredulously.
"Or something..." she trailed off looking terrified and embarrassed for the stupid suggestion.
"I'll let it grow back! I just and getting tired of helmet hair and sweaty necks. I'm not leaving, I just wanted change!" That was the worst thing I could have done next to actually leaving her.
"You can't go!" My mother ordered strongly. Her voice shook, but it had a parental edge.
I looked into her eyes and studied her expression carefully. I saw fear and sadness. It was actual fear in her eyes. She honestly thought I was leaving her.
"Mom. I love you. I made a terrible mistake last time and I'm really sorry about it. I can try to make up for it, but it is easier to just prove to you I'm happy as your daughter. I love you. I missed you. Aunt Becky's is nothing in comparison to here. I love you. I'm staying," I tried to sound honest and preachy, but I knew that if it came down to it and her life was threatened by who I am, I would leave. I would leave in an instant. But I had to believe that I was strong enough to keep her safe for now.
For now.
The truthfulness of the words scared me. I knew it was only for now. I knew that soon enough I would leave her. If only for college or to take my troubles away from her. Either way, I would leave her.
She shook her head. "You will. You will leave me in time. You have to. You are seventeen. You become a senior in a week. Summer is in a week. That's the perfect chance for you to take an early leave."
"I'm not taking an early leave," I vowed and put my hands on her shoulders.
"You can't promise me that."
"But I am."
She shook her head and walked into the living room. "I'll be back in little bit," I called, and ran for my bike.
I rode to nowhere in particular. I just took roads for as long as they went and then turned around and found another. Finally, I found myself at the place on the river where April had taken me. I parked the bike and walked to the edge of the trail.
I wasn't wearing boots. Converse tennis shoes had taken more liking. I can't explain why. I was using the excuse that it is part of this transformation I was taking.
I took deep breath and walked onto the path. I took edgy, slow steps and I walked along the beaten path. I found myself in the deepest part of the forest, and shamefully, left the path. I came to a small clearing near the river's edge. I couldn't see the water, but I could hear and smell it.
I stood still and closed my eyes. I imagined I was holding that little piece of Ben I was clinging to. I held out my hand and bit my lip as I pictured it. In my hand was his existence to me. In my hand was what I wanted to leave. What I was going to leave.
I opened my eyes and walked towards the sound of the water, feeling like I more floating in and out of existence myself. My legs were numb and my body was weightless. But I walked towards the water, my love in my palm.
Staring down at the rushing fluid I let myself cry again. Just a few tears, then I wiped the last of them away. I bit my lip harder, and turned my hand over, feeling the last of Ben slip from my grip.
"I'm not leaving you," I whispered to it as it figuratively splashed into the water. "I just can't keep clinging.
"I'm letting you go. Not leaving you. I'm letting you leave."
I turned and floated back out of the forest. I was half way when I sat down on a rock. I wasn't giving up and I wasn't resting, I was just contemplating what I was giving away. I knew right then, after I did it that it didn't want to let him go. I didn't want to let him leave, but I was going to. I couldn't keep sending these mixed messages. It was tearing both of us apart. It was right to let him go.
"I'm letting you go. I'm letting you leave," I mumbled.
Then, despite my belief that I was sane, I heard off in the distance someone say, "I'm not leaving you."
I guess I'm not as sane as I thought. I sighed and rose. No one was there, no was here to hear me. I was alone and imagining things.
But I heard it again. "I'm not leaving you."
"Ben?" I asked. It was his voice, far away and somewhat like a whisper, but it was still his.
"I'm not leaving you." The cold hands wrapped around my arms. They weren't cold like how they had been in my dream, just cold like someone who really needs to learn the use of gloves, but I still went ridged.
"Let me go," I ordered. It would apply to both.
"I'm not leaving you," the voice was at my ear and I could feel the presence of another person.
"Let me go," I yanked out of his hands and turned around. He was there, staring at me, confused.
"Why are you giving up?" he asked.
"I'm not." My voice was stubborn, awkward.
"You are."
"I'm letting go."
"Same thing."
Humorless laugh. "Not quite."
"Then what are you doing?" he dropped his hands which had still been in the air from when he had been holding me.
"I'm letting go. I'm making this harder for you than it should be so I'm letting go. You are free to leave. I was clinging, I admit it, so you had no option but to stay. Now I'm letting go so you can leave," I explained.
"I'm not leaving so don't bother," he handed me my note and recited it to me as I read it. "'Ben. Read this as you think of me. Read this as you run away. Read this as I pine in hurt. I caused you pain so it is right for you to cause it to me, but I'm letting you know, it's not Happy Birthday to me to be alone. I miss you. I want you. I just can't have you. That doesn't mean go away. I love you. Stay.'"
"So?" I scoffed when I found my voice.
"So I'm not leaving. If this is what happens when I leave, then it sounds to me like you can't live with that. I'm not going to hurt and not going to push you, I'm just going to be here. I'm just going to be...Andrew."
No. Andrew isn't who I want. Not in either sense of the word want. Andrew kills people. Andrew isn't Ben. Andrew is a red eyed murderer. No. Be Ben, the one I knew before.
"You aren't Andrew," I said in a cold voice.
"Ben hurts you. Andrew still is innocent of that," the dryness to his voice was inevitable.
"There's nothing innocent about slaughter."
"I never said Andrew's innocent about other things. Just he is innocent in the realm of hurting you," where was he getting these ideas? People were so...ideay these days.
"Killing people, Ben, is hurting me. I'm a slayer. It hurts me to see people die."
"But I won't be tearing your heart to pieces anymore."
I stared hard into his eyes. "You never were." The objection was strong and true. He never tore my heart. I did.
"Regardless," he wasn't planning on saying anything more. He had no final retort.
"Be Ben. But understand that I won't be clinging. I will be there, but I won't be clinging. I'm letting you go. You can leave if you like. You have the option now. I have to go," I turned and wandered the other way, not bothering to watch my feet.
"I'm not leaving. Just like you aren't leaving. You aren't leaving me. You aren't leaving your mother. You aren't leaving your friends. You aren't leaving your life. I've done enough leaving in my life. I'm not leaving you. Remember that," he called after me.
I turned around long enough to smile weakly and nod. "I know," I said just loud enough for him to hear.
"Nice hair cut." His goodbye.
"Thank you." Mine.
* * *
I wandered back into the house, my hair windblown and needing to be brushed. I wanted food, it would curb that awful feeling I felt for the pain I was still causing Ben. When would it end? It wouldn't, I realized. It wouldn't unless I chose him and that would only stop the pain for a while, because then I would die, and he would hurt worse.
My mother was sitting on the coach, looking at a photo album. I walked in silently and stared over her shoulder at the pictures of us when I was little. The photo she was staring at was one of me when I was four. She was biding me goodbye for my first day of kindergarten, worried about leaving me.
"I was happy when you came back," I said quietly, and her hand flew to her neck instinctively. "Sorry," I added when she jumped.
"'S okay. I know. I didn't want to leave you, but I did. And you didn't want me to go," she thought I was trying to get back at her for little things like this. What kind of person was I?
"I didn't leave you to get back at you for anything. I didn't leave you. I left what I was becoming. I left who I had become. I left who I was. I was falling apart and I needed to find myself again. I left this town and I left my room. I left my loneliness and my problems. I left a lot of thing, but you weren't one of them. I'm sorry what I did affected you. It wasn't on purpose though. I didn't leave to leave you. I left to leave me," I rambled on and on trying to make her see.
"Really?" she finally looked at me. She searched my eyes for lies and I let her. It was all true. What I said. I left me, not her. I shouldn't have hurt her, but I couldn't stay while I was changing.
I nodded and she hugged me.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I love you too," she mumbled in my ear.
I looked at the pictures with her until it was dinner time. Then I hurried to go make something snacky. I settled for frozen pizza and chips. Highly unhealthy, but I didn't care.
While we ate I studied my mother. She still seemed to be in a state, but I hoped what I had said would sink in tonight and she would move on. I couldn't help that the me she knew was nothing like the me that was inside of me.
Her eyes were restless. They moved from one thing to another. She took in her surroundings like they would disappear suddenly. The walls, the counter, the sink, the fridge, the table, my face, the floor tile, the counter, my face, the dishes, the molding, the windows, my face.
How could I make her see I was staying? For now. But staying. I couldn't. I'd sit here and hope she saw me as becoming sedentary, but that was all. I hoped that was enough.
That night I had a dream. Real dreams had passed me by for a while now, but tonight, they were back.
I was sitting at the kitchen table, eating pizza with my mother. All of a suddenly Ben flung the door open and yelled, "Hurry! Cover!" His face was filled with fear and his voice was frantic. I leapt to my feet ready to fight. We both faced the door, waiting. I heard a noise that sounded like choking coming from behind me. Both I and Ben whirled around at the same time.
"MOM!" I shouted. Sinead was on top of her, sucking the blood from her neck. "No," I whispered and dove at him. I skidded across the table and the food smeared on my sweats. I felt spaghetti sauce splash on my face and chips fly into my eyes. I squinted as I hit the vampire.
I wasn't wearing any crosses. I was doomed. "BEN!" I yelled desperately and I pushed at the vampires face. He tossed me a cross and snapped a chair leg.
Sinead squealed as the cross burned his face. He wrenched back and I was splashed with blood. Ben came at him from behind, stabbing the stake at his skin. But he wasn't weak enough. Nothing happened.
I pushed my mom to the ground. She was half-conscience, but I couldn't have Sinead biting her again. Ben pushed a cross against his back just as he swiped at my face. I leaned back, slipping into a puddle of pizza sauce. Ben stabbed another cross into his back and I heard it break skin. I shoved the cross into his mouth to keep him from screeching and took another cross from Ben to confine his hands.
Together we drug him out, kicking and screaming. Ben held his feet and I held his hands. He wrenched and lashed at us, but we managed to get him on the concrete and light a fire on his head.
We stood there, staring at the flames, and I remembered my mother dying on the floor. I ran off to her with Ben yelling at me to come back.
I ignored him and hurried to my mom. She was lying on the ground, lashing back and forth. She whimpered then laughed. Then whimpered again. It hurt me to see her in so much pain. But what could I do?
"Ben!" I yelled. He appeared at my side. "You have to get the venom levels to drop! There's too much. Get part of it out so it can heal and not hurt!"
He bit his lip. "Get me a turkey baster or something sucky," he said.
"A turkey baseter?" I asked.
"YES! I can't suck it out! I'll lose control! I can't risk it anymore than it is already!" he growled aggravated then got up to get the cooking utensil himself.
After retrieving it, he stuck it into the puncture wound and squeezed. Blood began to fill the tube and my mother lashed back and forth. "STOP! STOP! IT! Hurts..." she lost consciousness.
I gasped but Ben whispered, "Don't worry, she's just out cold."
I nodded and scrunched my nose at the smell of the fouled blood. I couldn't smell blood. That much of my humanity I still had, but if it was contaminated with venom, the chemistry of the two substances created a foul odor.
If this was just another person, I knew I would bandage her up, give her some Advil, and call it a day. But this was my mother. I had to stop the pain.
"Make her forget," I whispered when Ben began bandaging her neck.
He looked up. "I can do that. But she'll always remember the emotion, just not what caused them."
I would never be able to think of a story good enough to cover that up. I would have to leave. "Do it," I ordered through gritted teeth. I bit back tears and held my breath as he touched her head and closed his eyes, erasing her memories.
"Are you staying?" he asked.
"No. I can't."
"I'll make her move on faster. It'll be easier for her," he never opened his eyes, but he furrowed his brow and concentrated harder.
"It's done," he said at last.
"Good. Goodbye, mom," I whispered and rose. We hurried to clean the room together, then I packed a small bag, and held my chest as the ripping pain seared and I left my mother, despite my vow not to.
"Goodbye, mom. I love you." Then the dream ended.
* * *
I woke crying. Thankfully that portion of my life where I woke screaming over every dream had passed. Now, I was just sobbing.
It took me quite some time to pull myself back together, but finally I was able to get up and walk to the bathroom without having flooded eyes. I stood in front of the mirror and brushed my short hair out. Sigh. Short hair and summer. It sounded so...typical. Well, I guess that will give me a little better guise for school.
"Typical," I laughed in a whisper, half-heartedly.
As I crawled back to my room I deliberated the downside of buying some non-leather clothes. It would make my mother happy, but then again it might give her ideas. I didn't want her to suffer anymore. Poor woman.
I sighed as I stretched out on the bed, and fidgeted until my whole body was as comfortable as I could make it. I took a deep breath and began to relax and numb my body, legs first.
After the exercise, I worked on my mind by thinking of ways to prove to my mother that I wasn't going to leave her. Well, I could buy some regular clothes and start wearing them on a semi-regular basis. Also, I could try to spend more time with her. I could take her places that my friends have shown me; she would love that place by the river, but hiking isn't her thing. We could go shopping in Corvallis, or better Salem. I need to plan a girls' weekend. Maybe next weekend. Friday I will take her to Salem and she can help me with that shopping spree I was thinking about. Then we could stay in a hotel in Corvallis and catch a movie before nightfall. Pizza, ice cream, bowling. Saturday we could scout Corvallis for more clothes, for both of us. Paintball maybe. Or skating. Sunday I'd take her to Triangle Lake and we could rent a kayak. Then go up to the falls and do an in-town camping. Monday we could come home and be lazy all...yawn....day. Or have a spa...yawn...day...all girly, and what not...yawn...and prove to her that I'm never leaving..yawn...