Ash
Ash stared out of the large windows, overlooking a small soulless rock garden, which opened out onto a pebble beach and suddenly dropped away in the distance. He couldn't see a single plant or shrub alive; all were brown and shrivelled excuses of vegetation.
The ocean view of the Sussex coast was a blur of grey and greens as the rain battered the glass and obscured everything into a watery haze of bovine sadness, mirroring Ash's current mood.
He sunk low in the soft floral armchair and pulled the hood of his jacket down over his tear-smeared face, the old musty smell of the chair, beginning to make him nauseous. He was glad for the jacket, as the room was ice cold. He lifted his legs and slipped his frozen hands under for warmth.
Mother Luisa, sitting silent, a little to his right, just stared at him, her small dark eyes boring into his skull. She always managed to make him cry, and it pissed him off.
She needed only to give him a look these days and he would break down into a soppy mess and tell her everything, every secret, every thought, leaving nothing but an empty husk. Wasn't she meant to help him with his dreams and his nightmares? Why did his Dad insist he has these bloody chats?
"This is upsetting for you," she said, breaking the silence, her face a blank canvas.
"Really? You don't say," Ash replied gnashing his teeth, instantly regretting his bitter tone.
Mother Luisa blinked, silence was her reply.
"Sorry Mother," he said staring at his hands. "It's these damn dreams, I want to forget them, but all you want me to do is talk about them."
"Have you been sleeping properly? When did you last have a full night's sleep?" she asked, her voice remaining passive.
"Huh? I don't know...maybe never." He leant forwards, resting his elbows on his knees and sighed, trying to release the soul-wrenching despair crawling within him.
He peered at Mother Luisa from within the shadow of his hood and noticed a nervous twitch under her left eye. She stared at him with a glazed and distant expression.
He sat up straight and shifted his body to gaze around the room. Her little one-bedroom bungalow was quaint, with duck egg colour walls and dark grey carpets all through the house. Even the kitchen was grey, with slate tiles. Maybe the tone reminded her of a Nunnery Cell and somehow comforted her. To Ash, her home was cold, dull and void of any character, a bit like its owner, he guessed, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
How could his Dad be friends with a Nun?
Ash tapped the arm of his chair, and grinned, the only real colour in the entire house was the red sofa chair he sat in – her reading chair, which normally sat next to the fireplace directly behind him. Ash always moved it over to the French doors, to enable him to gaze out onto the beach. He needed to face outwards, not inwards, to help free his mind from the claustrophobic little room and the emotional memories Mother Luisa sucked out of him. Sometimes she gave him permission to open the doors and let the fresh sea breeze rejuvenate his mind. Today the weather prevented this one little pleasure.
Ash stared through the misty haze his tears left, trying to forget the first part of last night's dream, though Mother Luisa demanded intimate details – she always did.
"So, please continue Ashley...this woman...was she young or old? You said that you couldn't see her face?" she asked, in her low flat monotone voice. Her Italian accent slipped out and revealed itself more today as if she was on edge or nervous.
Ash paused before answering and studied her as she sat elegantly on her ebony-stained chair, back straight, legs crossed and not a glimpse of skin exposed, except her round pale face. She studied him back with curious dark eyes. She wasn't writing notes down today; her pad remained untouched on her desk. This wasn't the only oddity he had noted from today's session. She seemed distracted, more concerned about the faded cream retro telephone, sitting on her desk to her right, than what he had to say. Well, until he mentioned the girl in his dream.
Ash swallowed and continued under her steady eye.
"She seemed my age; do you know any older woman who wears candy-coloured pink hoodies? Do you have one hidden in your cupboard Mother?" he asked, giving her a wild grin.
Mother Luisa remained passive and didn't rise to the bait. He could tell she was becoming irritated, impatiently tapping a finger on her knee.
"Anyway, the point is that her eyes were the same...the same as all the other dreams, always the fucking same...sorry Mother. Always the same... And before you ask again, no I couldn't see her face, though I sensed it was beautiful." He dropped his gaze to his hands and studied them again for a moment, before raising them to eye level, creating a cupping shape, as if holding something. Showing Mother Luisa how vivid the dream was.
"She...she held a black heart in her hands, a fucking heart...sorry Mother. Yes, a black burnt-like heart...like this, in the air and inky-black blood flowed down her arms and stained her pink sleeves. It was then I noticed a body lying at her feet."
He shivered and closed his eyes, the reality of the images continuing to haunt him. He quickly dropped his hands to his thighs and without realizing began cleaning them against his jeans. He blinked and shook his head, expecting to find tar-like substance streaks on his legs.
It's not real you nutcase.
"Black? W-why black blood? Are you sure?" Mother Luisa asked, her voice finally gaining some emotion. She leaned forwards, on the edge of her seat, eagerly waiting for his reply.
Ash shook his head and wiped his damp eyes on his sleeve.
Why the hell am I crying???
"I don't know...that's your job to tell me what it means...all I know is that...she seemed sad, maybe more ashamed, and when she threw the heart to the ground, she frantically brushed her hands on her hoodie, as if the blood burnt her. I could swear she was crying, though I couldn't see any tears...in those...those bloody animal eyes. But I did feel her pain...in here...raw, sharp and intense." He brought a hand to his chest to show Mother Luisa, who only stared back as if he sat in front of her completely naked, gobsmacked and in total shock. The nun blinked.
Did she believe him? Did it matter? He quickly dropped his gaze, unable to look into her dark knowing eyes; she had a way of piercing the veil and revealing your deepest secrets. His eyes itched.
I must stop crying...
He turned back to the window and grimaced at the foul weather. All it seemed to do this week was rain. He wished he could open the doors; it was getting stuffy and his stomach churned and bubbled with emotion.
"So, what happened after that?" she asked, her voice cutting through the gentle tapping of the rain against the glass.
"I don't know...as always, ending in more blood and gore. I will say though; she could handle herself...the girl in the dream – hah...my dream." He grinned, giving Mother Luisa a side look. "Maybe it's just a hidden sexual fantasy of mine, a girlfriend that can kick ass, my ass." He chuckled and as usual, Mother Luisa stayed passive and professional.
"So, she was your age then!" she said, leaning even closer to him. Ash rolled his eyes, wondering why it mattered.
"Yeah, I just said that – why does it matter?" he asked.
She leaned back and adjusted her skirts and fiddled with the cross at her chest. Ash had never seen her clasp her rosary before. He thought he saw her hands tremble.
"S-so what happened next?" she asked, snatching a glass of water from her desk and gulping it down, her eyes never leaving his face.
Ash pretended not to notice the dribbles dripping off her chin and splashing on her Nunnery dress, shifting his gaze back to the dismal scene outside.
"The girl jumped up and ran like the wind, just as a load of people appeared from nowhere - all with eyes like hers - red and evil looking. At first, she was faster, but somehow, they managed to get past and knock her down. She pulled out a knife, a white glowing dagger I think, the kind you see in all the fantasy films and games. The blade hummed when she slashed her attackers and it never changed colour...I mean the blood was black from the other...things, like the heart, but it never stained or stuck to the blade. Her weapon only needed to scratch them, and they would collapse in agony and after a few seconds, the wound would burst into flames, as if by magic...she was one sick bitch." Ash grinned to himself as the images of the young woman flashed in his mind.
Maybe it was a sexual fantasy?
"Though, I wouldn't want to meet her down a dark alley – if you get what I mean?" He sat back and pulled his hood away, brushing a hand through his short brown hair. Still, he couldn't dismiss the foreboding feeling welling up deep inside, making him as cold as the room he sat in.
"Can I have some water please," he asked, his mouth tasting of sandpaper. She didn't respond, her eyes wide, staring, her mouth open catching flies. Her mouth moved and Ash thought he caught a whisper "A vision...it is a vision, not a dream," she hissed under her breath.
"Huh? Mother...are you okay? You think it was a vision?"
She snapped her gaze up at him in awe and quickly tried to regain some composure, failing in the attempt, snatching her rosary in a clenched fist.
What is wrong with her today?
"Mother, you look...pale. Are you well? You haven't got that sick bug going around?" he asked.
She brushed a hand across her face and brought the wooden cross to her lips, kissing it longingly before closing her eyes and mumbling under her breath.
"How...when did you learn Italian my child?" she asked her face a mask of wonder.
Ash raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I haven't...I don't," he answered.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull at his words.
"You...you understood what I said and just replied to me in Italian, boy- and you don't speak it!" she snapped back, staring accusingly at him.
Ash gaped at her then frowned in disgust, rising to leave. "Whatever, I think you might be unwell Mother, anyway I've had enough today. I've got things to do."
"No! Please, sorry, Ashley. Sit, sit tell me. Did...she, is she still alive?" she inquired, her voice trembling while indicating for him to sit back on the chair. Ash turned and stared at the seat, deciding to stay on his feet. He spun back to the nun, confused at the desperation in her tone.
"Huh – did she live? Yes...maybe, I don't know... I woke up then," he said, noticing that her eye was twitching again, and she had that distant look, staring straight through him, towards the fireplace behind.
"So, she lives...the Holy Council were correct...is it possible?" She muttered to herself.
He spun around and followed her gaze, unsure of what was so interesting behind him.
"Is what possible Mother? What's the local council got to do with my dream?" he asked. Baffled.
She snapped her gaze at him. "See! You understand me...I said that in Italian, child".
Ash spun back and watched her for a moment unsure what to say, before frowning out towards the beach again, condensation clouding over the French doors; blocking what little else he could see earlier. He moved over to the glass and drew a smiley face and grinned to himself. A shadow loomed over him and Mother Luisa held out his glass of water, the liquid slopping over her trembling hand. He tried to pry the cup from her, but she would not let go.
"Mother?"
"Sorry child I-." She flinched as if burned when their fingers brushed. Their eyes met and Ash was convinced he saw fear behind her dark piercing glare. She pulled away and fidgeted with her cross.
"Have the blackouts started – I mean have you had any blackouts? Loss of memory?" She asked, glancing nervously at him.
Ash froze and he swallowed down the bile rising in his mouth, the glass pausing inches from his lips.
"H-how did you know about that?" He blurted out.
Mother Luisa snapped her head up and stared at him in horror, unblinking, but trembling.
"Mother...what do they mean? What's happening to me?" He couldn't stop the dread seeping into his voice.
"Nothing...Nothing at all, it just means y-you're recovering," she answered. Ash didn't believe her.
Why react so...strangely? It doesn't feel like I'm recovering.
"Well child, your time is up." She said abruptly, flashing him a weak smile as she turned away.
His gaze followed her as she walked behind her desk and pulled out her appointment book.
Ash glanced at his watch; the session had only been half an hour or so.
"But Mother, I have another thirty minutes?"
Surprised at his voice. Ash always wanted to leave as soon as possible, but today, something compelled him to stay, as if the answers he search for were close, within grasp.
She looked up at him, blinking a few times before licking her lips, beads of sweat decorating her already pale features.
"Oh, I...I have another appointment, I am sorry Ashley, I...I double booked." She dropped her gaze and shuffled through the papers, too quickly to be reading properly. Ash placed his empty glass on her desk and dragged her reading chair away from the window to the fireplace and studied the oak mantelpiece. Only then did he recognize what was missing. She had tried to cover the space with two brand-new church candles on thick simple brass holders.
"Mother, where are those lovely stud earrings you display on the fireplace," he asked glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "The silver ones with the pink Sapphire stones...you know - in the glass wooden frame."
For a split second, a worried pained expression passed across her face, before she composed herself.
"Oh...I sent them to the jewellers to get cleaned. They were getting a bit dull lately - so, next Friday? Same time?" she asked changing the subject.
Ash frowned at the sparkling new candles, not believing her. He hoped she hadn't sold them; he liked their simple, but delicate design; their colour reminded him of his sister's small crystal pendent that she had worn on a slim delicate chain around her neck.
He quickly pushed away the twisted emotions associated with his sister and spun away from the fireplace, the sudden desire for him to escape this place overwhelming him.
"Okay, no problem Mother, I need to get going anyway. I have to get ready for a blind date tonight." He snatched up his backpack from next to his chair and shuffled over to the front door and smiled back.
"See you next week Mother, and thanks again for your help," he said, walking out and giving a polite wave.
"Si, Ashley, arrivederci -"
Her words cut off as he shut her door.