Pretty In Black Part 4

I dropped the chalk and it hit the floor and shattered like a dehydrated china doll.

"There's one thing you're going to understand. This is Calculus. Now sit down."

The chorus of Neanderthals stifled their laughter.

My seat was near the back of the room, the row next to the windows. I had a great view of the school yard. I watched the October wind blow through the trees and make the gra.s.s dance. Autumn was gorgeous. Leaves turned the color of fire. I heard a shuffle outside, a flutter. A flapping of wings. Around the bush the white raven flew and perched himself in the tree branch outside the cla.s.sroom and eyed me. I wasn't sure if it was the same raven from before. I tried to look for a tell-tale sign that it was him, but the raven's eyes looked blue today, and not sea green.

When the bell rang, he flew away.

Cemetery Love Song The woods were melancholy. Vacant. Devoid of life. I was there again today. I hoped I'd see him, but I didn't.

The theater was slow. Strange for a Friday night. Left me with a lot of time to think. The last show ended at 12:35 a.m.

Marcus leaned against the wall outside the theater, eyes dancing with amus.e.m.e.nt. I dug my hands into my coat pocket and exhaled. I could see my breath. He extended his hand to me and pushed away from the wall. "Come with me."

When he was near me, it felt like my veins were laughing. I placed my hand in his and my skin tingled with joy. We made our way to the cemetery and sat atop the graves. His dark hair hung down in his face. He looked over at me, a grin in his eyes. "If you could be anyone else, besides yourself, who would you choose to be?"

"Okay. Don't laugh." I looked up at him. "Molly Ringwald."

"Nah. You don't wanna be her."

"Yes I do. I'd want to be Molly Ringwald, Pretty in Pink."

He looked at me. "But you're not her. You're the opposite. You're Ellie Piper, Pretty in Black."

He leaned in closer and his hand grazed mine. I tried not to breathe too deeply. His eyes scanned my body then raised back to my face and landed on my lips. I stayed perfectly still as he inched closer. I quit breathing. His eyes bore so entirely into mine that it was almost as if we were becoming one person. Then he kissed me pa.s.sionately. His lips on mine caused tiny explosions within me.

"Don't let me go, Ellie."

I grasped at him. I ran my fingers through his hair. He was only kissing me, but it felt more powerful. Almost like we were having s.e.x. I had to close my eyes and take deep breaths. He pressed me against the grave, his body now on top of mine.

I ran my hand underneath his shirt. His chest was cold, hard, and chiseled like stone. My hand touching him was like fire touching ice. He was melting. His moans, the sounds escaping from his throat, shot daggers of ecstasy through me.

In the darkness of my lids, I saw the sun setting, night flowers blooming, stars exploding, our bodies grinding. I tilted my head back and he licked and pecked my neck.

The whole time I thought, This is unreal.

If he wouldn't have stopped when he did, my heart might've exploded. He looked into me, his eyes on fire. A lingering intensity. The sky sprinkled snow on us. It fell all around and was warm instead of cold. This feeling was magical. Almost like being trapped behind the gla.s.s of a snow globe that depicted a beautiful and frightening image of two lovers dying to stay alive with their lips.

The heavens spun around him and me. We were alone. We were isolated from existence. But we were one. His eyes lamented the pain he felt without me and it resonated in my soul.

I wiped a glistening tear forming in his eye; a snowflake melted on his lid or a hidden emotion. I pressed a quiet finger to his trembling lips.

"Shh, my lover." He rested his head against my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I had been shaken.

Opera House Marcus decided to take me on a real date, inspired by the idea that he needed to get me out of Maxx's dance club and show me a sophisticated and cultured evening. I tried to argue it with him, but he said, "I know you like darkness. That's how I know you'll love this Gothic Opera at Venice Hall."

"Oh. Opera. I don't understand Opera." We walked down the sidewalk in the Upper District. It was overcast with vines lit by white Christmas lights.

"Opera isn't something you understand. It's something you feel. From feeling comes understanding. If you try to understand everything in life, it ends up never making sense."

He shoved back his hair. "I'm glad you're the kind of girl who knows how to dress for these kinds of events. I've got us the best seats in the house, by the way." He flashed me front row tickets.

"But I wanted to be on the balcony, not down in the crowd."

"Oh," he said. "But guess what? You can have any seat in the entire Opera House."

"How's that?" He ran up the steps of Venice Hall, then reached his hand out to help me climb the steps in my dress. Venice Hall looked like a Gothic Cathedral.

"Because we have the whole theatre to ourselves."

"You're serious. How'd you manage that?"

"Private showing." He opened the door and led me in. I bet he had to pay a lot of money for us to have the entire theatre to ourselves just for one performance. The hallway had red carpet that's typically found in theaters of this sort. The interior was laced in Victorian decor circa 1839.

"Is this furniture replicas or is it the real thing? Antiques?"

"Most of this furniture is the real thing, inherited by the owner, pa.s.sed down the family line."

"It's ancient," I whisper-exclaimed. "But it's beautiful."

He led me into a dark chamber. As we descended into the darkness, he told me a little about the show and the history of Opera.

"The first known Opera house began in Venice, Italy in 1637. So Opera's been around for a long while. I, myself, prefer dark Opera, when the show combines melancholy and lamenting music with Victorian dress. Tonight we watch an Opera written by modern day composer. Bunnenci, Italian writer presents: Morte Sala and Oscuramento."

We took seats in the center of the theatre. The light spilling in from the hallway allowed me to see Marcus just enough. I wondered what he was thinking. When the ushers closed the doors behind us, locking us in the pitch dark theatre, I jumped a little. The sound of shutting doors echoed off the walls of the almost empty theatre. I felt my heart race. I was alone with Marcus in a dark silent room. I heard my heartbeat drum in my ears. I heard myself breathing.

Our elbows touched, which sent sparks up my arm. Then, someone switched on a theatre light and the stage lit up in white mellow light and I saw Marcus smile. I relaxed a little and settled in my seat. The play opened up with a woman, lamenting the imminent death of the man she loved and would never see again. It ended in a complete cacophonic darkness and I felt my heart compress.

Until Marcus looked at me again. Then I was okay once more. When we exited the theatre, it was sleeting. Rain and ice mixed together. The weather here was rather strange. Marcus pulled an umbrella from his back pocket and unraveled it. Cars made a slush sound as the tires rolled over water and ice. The night was still young.

"So what'd you think of that?"

"I actually loved it. It tugged on my heart a bit. It was sad."

Marcus tilted his head to the side. "What do you want to do now?"

"Dance," I said.

"Ah. You want to go to Maxx's club."

"Yes. I do. It's right up the street." I could almost hear the music spilling out onto the sidewalk. He was reluctant to move, so I pulled him in the direction of the place. He let me and before I knew it, we were inside, lights flashing everywhere. Happiness swam through my veins as I led him to the dance floor. At first he just stood there, until I told him, "Stop a.n.a.lyzing it. You've just gotta feel it, remember?" I swayed in and out of reality. I floated above consciousness. I was pure energy. Everything around me blurred into complete oblivion. Everything but the music. Everything but Marcus. Everything was Marcus.

Questions I spent Sat.u.r.day morning in the quiet confines of the library. In the back of the room, I sat by a window trying to catch up on some homework. I needed the stillness and silence that the library offered so I could focus. I pressed my hand to the icy gla.s.s and wiped away the gossamer layer of frost to see outside. The landscape was covered in white slush.

I crammed all of my accessories into my bag and left the library. My mind wouldn't stay focused. I paused under the roof of the library when I felt snow land on my head and melt quickly into water. That tickling sensation swam through my veins again and I grinned as I turned around and looked upward. Marcus burst into childlike laughter. He sat on top of the roof of the library.

"How'd you get up there?"

"Don't worry about that." He leapt down and landed perfectly on his feet, directly in front of me, like he was used to doing this. His eyes glistened. He wore a green sweater and a long black coat. He was so d.a.m.n gorgeous.

I bit my lip. "Do you plan to always remain a mystery to me, Marcus?"

"You say that as though you're not peculiar yourself."

"Yeah. I probably am for hanging around you."

"See. This is a perfect example of what I mean. I never know what to expect from you. One moment you're pushing me away and the next you're kissing me back."

"This feels kind of isolated."

"It feels that way because it is that way." He walked off in a manner that indicated he wanted me to follow him.

"I need to know more about you."

"Well, you would if you'd quit running away from me every time we get to the good part."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "And what's the good part?"

He closed the s.p.a.ce in between us, entwined our fingers on both hands and kissed me.

When he pulled away, I said, "You can't just kiss me to stop me from asking questions, Marcus."

He squinted his eyes in amus.e.m.e.nt and his brow creased.

"Where do you even live? What's your family like? How old are you? When were you born? Do you even go to school?"

He submerged his hands into his coat pockets. "Ellie, I don't find any of those questions to be of any significance."

"They most certainly are. I need to know actual facts about you."

He rose his eyes from the ground to meet mine. "And after all those questions, there will be more questions."

"I don't understand. Why can't you just answer them?"

"I can answer them. I just choose not to do so."

"I-I don't get it. If you're going to act this strange about ordinary facts, then I'm just not going to hang around you anymore."

"I agree. You shouldn't. Please stay away from me. It's for the best."

"Best for you? Or best for me?"

"It's the best for everyone involved."

"Well, who else is involved? I was only aware it was you and me." His gaze pierced through me. "Here's something else that you probably don't care to explain. What happened in the graveyard that day, Marcus? I slit my wrists. I know it. I should be dead right now."

"You didn't really do that. It was a dream." He gazed at me with such calmness that I wouldn't have been able to detect any flare in his emotions.

"You know what's even stranger? After the night I spent in the graveyard with you, I've felt even more isolated. Like I'm just a shadow and you're the only one who can really see me. Life has an empty feeling. No one really acknowledges my existence." I took a deep breath. "No one but you," I exhaled.

"Why don't you stop trying to figure me out and ask yourself why you're attracted to me instead."

"Maybe I've gone temporarily insane? I'm not going to come around you anymore."

He grinned like this was something to laugh at. "You can't control that. You'll be back."

"No. I won't."

"You will. You can't avoid me." He grabbed my wrists. "My touch is like epinephrine. It makes you feel alive." His eyes flared.

"I am alive," I breathed. My insides fluttered.

"Without that rea.s.surance, everyone is dead. That's why you'll be back."

I s.n.a.t.c.hed my wrists out from under his grip and walk-ran away from him. I would not go back to that graveyard. I would not go back to that meadow. I would not go back to those woods.

But that night I dreamed that he and I were in the meadow of flowers at sunset. The sky burned. b.u.t.terflies flapped around us and he made love to me. He took his time and explored every inch of my body.

I woke up warm and sweaty with electricity flowing through me and I wanted to scream for his touch.

Disturbed from my sleep and in Sean's apartment, I longed to be with Marcus. I longed for a place to belong. I longed not to feel so alone.

He was right. I hated it, but he was right. I needed him and I would go back.

Cobwebs Even if I wanted to go back, even if I wanted to see him, and I did, he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in the meadow, he wasn't in the cemetery, and he wasn't in the woods.

It rained everyday for nearly two weeks. I sat in cla.s.s and watched the rain beat against the window. I was close enough that it drowned out the math teacher's voice. I put on my headphones to escape the mundane reality of my life. My shoes squeaked on the hallway floor. One lone locker slammed shut and the sound reverberated down the hallway for a fraction of a second.

At work, I heard never-ending chatter about the latest horror flick as I made theater pizza and scooped boxes of popcorn for the locals. I was clearly zoning out.

One night, instead of going to Sean's apartment, I visited my old house. The house where my parents were once happily married. The house where my nineteen year old sister was raped and murdered that past summer, the event that shattered everything. The house became a crime scene, which was never solved, so the doors were boarded up because no one was allowed to enter the house or live there. But that night, after work, I broke in and found shelter from the storm. I used my memory and the lightning flashes from outside to guide my way through the house to my old room. The floor boards creaked. Cobwebs adorned everything.

My old bedroom door swung open slowly when I approached it, as though the house had awaited my return. The bed I'd slept on, now broken. I remembered that day because Darcy was excited. It was her one year anniversary with her boyfriend Rick and she danced around my room in her blue dress that she'd bought to wear to the end of summer dance. Dad was still at work and I'm not sure where my mother was, but I was home with my sister. Darcy sat in front of my vanity mirror to apply her makeup. She turned on the radio and sang along to some pop songs.

I went into the kitchen to pour some Orange juice when Madison knocked on the back door and asked me if I was going skinny dipping with the crew or not, because they were waiting. I sat my gla.s.s of juice on the counter, raced out the back door, and climbed into her jeep. If I'd known Madison would be a back-stabbing b.i.t.c.h who'd do anything to get her way and if I'd known Declan would have s.e.x with me, but it wouldn't mean anything to him and I'd regret it and want to kill myself later, then I'd never left my sister alone in that house.

But when I returned home that night the ambulance was at my house and the police was there and sirens wailed and my mom was screaming, falling to the ground hysterical. My dad looked like he'd checked out all together. And Darcy was dead.

After that, everything was a blur. I stayed with a family friend until after the funeral because my mother and father were secretly going through a divorce, which was something I didn't know about until after Darcy died. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be. After that, my mom took me and we moved across town to live in a trailer, and my father moved to New York City for a better job. Mom married Nick and she never picked herself back up again. She just fell deeper.

And this was my life. I looked into the old mirror and my reflection stared back at me, broken.

When I closed my eyes, I could still see Darcy. She was two years older than me and she was gorgeous. She had auburn red hair like mine and freckles across the bridge of her nose. I still wish she were alive. I missed her. I needed her here.

I had an absent father and an irresponsible mother. I felt like disappearing at times because I couldn't deal with my relationships with guys or any of the emotions I experienced. I didn't care about my school work anymore like I used to. I just wanted this whole high school thing to be over and done with. But if Darcy were here, she'd know just what to do. Just how to manage all these things. I laid on my old bed and pulled my feet into my chest and listened to the rain beat against the roof that leaked in some areas. I heard it drip drop into the hallway.

A spider crawled aimlessly along the dresser and I watched it until it crawled out of view.