(Avia above)
Current day, about 16 years later
Ezry
I wake with a start, seeing the apple blossoms outside my window, bathed in a new spring green. While I certainly have my fair share of recurring nightmares, my dreams are always varied, beautiful, and full of a life and feeling of happiness that I have hardly ever felt outside of my dreams.
Don't get me wrong; I live my life to the best of my abilities, even though they are tempered by circumstances. I know how close death is. I have seen death, caused death, and lived death from when I was 5, until I was 15. If that isn't messed up, I don't know what is. We are all just one moment away from death. I appreciate my life, and though, ever since I awoke from my coma when I was five, and felt like half a person I try not to waste my life.
After years of running, he'd finally caught us. I woke up to a new life. A life no one would ask for.
I pull the purple flower blankets off of myself, the cold wood floor sending a chill up to my spine. Since it is only my friend Avia and myself in this country home in upstate New York, I forgo most clothes at bedtime, which just makes me grumble with cold in the morning. I can hear my only real friend making coffee, "thank all that is holy in any world that is listening," I mutter.
After I get my pajamas on, I trudge downstairs, seeing Avia's beautiful, unkempt crown of blond streaked dark brown curls. She's beautiful inside and out, and would certainly have died either physically or emotionally had we not escaped the compound we spent 10 years in together. She is one of the least tainted people I have known, and has compassion that rivals a saint. She can keep her kindness, I'll be our vengeance.
"Mornin', sunshine" I wave; she is the eternal morning person. I have always loved the night, though appreciated the day. The stars, their wonder, and the feel I get whenever I see a falling star, causes such a thrill of longing for me than any beautiful ray of sunshine ever will.
"Good morning, my little night owl. I made you coffee, just like you normally take it." She winks at me, "creamer to make it just a shade lighter than my skin, and enough sugar to kill a hummingbird." She hands me my cup and we both sit to enjoy the oatmeal she made.
"So, Ezry, tell me about your dreams," she smiles over her coffee cup, "I heard you again last night from across the call, and you know I love hearing about your adventures in dreamland," she sighs dreamily, she never uses my given name, unless she wants to wake up with purple dyed hair. Ever since I was 5 and in every dream I have ever had, I was Ezry. When Avia and I left, and changed our identities, I never hesitated to tell her that my name would be Ezry, never again 'Elish'. Just saying the name sounds foreign, not right. Just like my father to name me something that means 'of noble birth'. He really is a crazy bastard.
"Hm, nothing exciting, Av. But it was still nice," I look up scrunching my nose while smiling.
"Ah, let me see, you had two sisters, a brother, and parents. Both of which were alive, and the father wasn't an evil bastard who seeked his revenge on you?" She asked cheerily.
I smirked at her, "the exact same family". I don't ever see their faces, though. Avia lives for my retelling of my dreams.
"What kind of magic?" She smiles; I don't call her everyone's ray of sunshine for no reason.
I roll my eyes, "Av, you know I've never been able to tell what type of magic my dream self has, just that I have this smug feeling towards my magic. That it and myself really are 'all that'" I say with a smug smile. "That is why it is a dream, it's my brain escaping and forming this extraordinary life that could never be possible, because ya know," I wave around, indicating our home and life.
Avia rolls her eyes. "Just because your dream family has never tried to kill either of us, doesn't mean our current life is anything to scoff at."
"Honestly, I'd be happier not having those dreams," I look outside as I talk, "Ignorance is bliss. I wake up knowing my brain is doing some stupid compensation and making up for the things my life lacks."
She sighs, "Switching gears, Debbie Downer; I'm gonna be watching Erica and Tyler most of the day today," Avia beams at me. We both love children, however, her love of children is really more of an obsession with children. If she didn't have a such a good head on her shoulders, I would worry about her. Many times I do worry about finding kids she baby sits on a milk carton while on her watch... but she means well, and she would never hurt them, just keep them locked up, petting their heads calling them 'her precious'. I mean that in the most loving way of course.
"That should be fun, need to borrow some duct tape?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind," I say with a smile and a wave, "I think I'm going to pack some supplies, and throwing knives and go out hiking."
Avia looks at me worriedly, "you don't need to keep up on the skills they taught us, ya know," she says gently. "They only found us once, and all the preparation in the world couldn't have stopped what happened."
This is one area that her and I completely disagree on. "Avia, I don't care that I was taught these things to use for malice. I will not be a victim, and I will not let you be one either." I smile gently at her, "I love that you feel safe, and that you want to be a different person. I don't, to either of those two things. I hate how I became the person I am today, but I will use it to my advantage, and I know I am a stronger person. You know I have this drive, I can't even control it. I need to keep up with my fighting, I'm good with weapons, and I need to know that we are safe. It feels like a part of me, one of the pieces that I lost along the way."
"But if anything happened, they would probably just use a gun anyway," Avia roles her eyes. "Your throwing knife addiction, and yes, it is an addiction, is not natural. Plus, I don't even understand how you are so good with a short sword, unless it is your attempt to live a piece of your dream world."
"I can't explain the throwing knife thing," I shrug. "I just have this overwhelming need to do it, like if I don't, I will die." I look over at the fireplace, blazing in this chilly spring morning, with the crazy flat screen that Avia just had to have hanging over it. "Enough bashing on Ezry." I stand up, bringing our plates to the sink and washing them.
I look over at Avia, and get ready to leave. We are both tall for women, though I'm not sure where I get mine from; I'm 5'8". Quill is only an inch taller than me, and while her mother was short like my mother, her father, whom no one really knows who he was, must have been one tall guy to override her mom's short genes. I know both of my parents, and have no clue about my height. I'm even taller than my brother by 2 inches, though that was a few years ago now. I shiver at his memory.
Avia has pretty soft golden brown skin, awesome crazy brown curls with just a hint of blond at the tip, and chocolate brown eyes. Apparently the combination you get when one super pale red head who was going to be forced to marry another super pale red head, runs off with a man that needless to say, Avia's racist grandfather might, eligibly had had a heart attack over. Too bad he survived, and those are sweet Avia's words, mine have many more expletives when discussing our fucked up situation and family. Our mothers were cousins, and left with us, having to split up. Avia had been taken back after only 3 years. I was lucky and had 5 years of normal, until nothing was ever going to be normal ever again.
I never saw pictures from before I was five, but the funny thing is, is that Avia says I looked different after the non-accident accident, even though she only vaguely remembers me and we did not see each other much.
I have almond shaped green eyes, and I keep my sable brown hair a little too long to be convenient. I just love braiding my hair, and using YouTube to find new crazy ways of doing it. It's the closest I get to feeling like a princess, I guess. I've never been skin and bones, probably because I eat way too much. I work it off though, since I don't need to worry about money, I spend many days exploring the mountains, and finding waterfalls, practicing when I can.
*************
I love walking through the woods, knowing that I am alone, but surrounded by nature. I never really feel at peace, but this is as close at it gets for me. I always feel this pain, or really more of hollowness in my chest. If I was a hypochondriac, or got sick... ever, I might worry. But it's just always there.
It was cool and sunny today, just beautiful. The trilliums were blooming as I walked through the non-marked woods, and I saw several deer. I don't get lost when I wonder miles off the trails, I know how to find my way, and today I found paradise.
Two streams intersected, and formed a waterfall, which might be deep enough to swim in when the weather is warmer. Buttercups strewn the side of the water, and I find several trees of varying sizes to throw my knives. I know it isn't good for the trees, but that is why I alternate and never the same spot twice.
I start warming up, the first two throws I am off by an entire freaking inch! My dreams from two nights ago must have psyched me out; I always have dreams about not being able to throw a knife to save my life. After those first 2, I am never off. I start by looking for knots in the bark, then find bugs to throw at. I even got an ant this last time. Ants and I have a love-hate relationship. They love my sugar addiction and the sweets found in my home, and I hate them and their sugar raiding ways. I've killed much higher life forms than an ant; so really, I just can't find the remorse to be sorry about these bugs.
I wasn't hungry at lunchtime, and took over two hours to find this place, so by 2 pm I am ready for food. I place all of my knives, and yes I brought my a very small, lady like sword, because really, you never know when you are going to need to stab someone in the eye, and place them on a rock close to the water. I have been eyeing the maple tree that took the brunt of my attacks. It is perfect as I climb high as I can, letting my legs dangle, and getting ready to eat my weight in food.
As I am half way into my sandwich, with mustard smearing all over my hands, I lean against the maple enjoying the calm. I then realize how quiet the forest has gotten. Too quiet. I'm not especially worried, because if there is a predator in the area, unless it's a bear, I am fairly safe up here. Though I decide to put my food back in my bag, hoping to see what has caused radio silence amongst the animals.
I pull my one dagger, because really, a knife the length of my middle finger can't really put a dent into a bear, and then grab my cell phone. As much as I hate it, I do love the camera quality. Maybe I'll see bambi being chased by coyotes instead. I climb down by two large branches, and wait to see what comes out.
As I sit there, motionless, I feel a tug to look over. I don't know how else to describe it. I look to my right, and freeze, over far away, I see a man, a freaking huge man! I have never seen a person this far out of the way in the woods, and am shocked. If I were trying to find Bigfoot, and if this guy was covered in hair, I'd say I found him. He must be at least 6'7", and he looks like he could take me in a fight with his pinky finger.
I try to hide myself, and get lost in his movements. Is he dressed in goth clothes? I ask myself. They are a black brown leather and fabric mix, and as he gets closer I can see he is covered, head to toe, in weapons. Now I know to just sit still. I have no idea what he is doing, and the idea that he is after me is far too realistic. It couldn't be, could it? Have they found us?
He's holding something in his hand, and moving slowly, looking as though he is ready to fight. I can see the tension in his body, and can just now start to make out his face. He is beautiful. His chestnut colored hair is tied back, and a bit longer than most men would wear. His cheekbones are high and sharp, accenting his just as angular jaw. I can't help but wonder what color his eyes are.
I keep leaning forward, and I can see how dangerous he could be, but for the life of me, I just want to go over to him. It's as if there is something trying to break its way into me, and something just as strong trying to break its way out of me. The two trying to collide. It's starting hurt, and my attention is split between watching him go over to my weapons, and looking around frantically, and holding my chest, and head because I can see black touching the corners of my eyes.
I'm not sure what's wrong with me, but I never faint. I see him stagger, almost underneath me now. He's holding his head too, yet he is still looking around with a manic look to his face. I wish I could see his eyes, I think to myself before I lose hold on my branch. I free fall for just a second, seeing crazed copper eyes lock with mine, as he staggers back and I hit the ground.