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Evanescence (Black Rose #1) Page 6


  I pull out a pen, open my notebook book to a clean page, and write down every detail that I can remember. As I dot the last period to my writing, a seductive, relaxing scent hypnotizes my sense of smell. It's a vanilla almond mixed with a dose of apple cinnamon. An aroma that makes me hungry. It is addicting. It is genuinely romantic. It's Essence LaRoux.

  "Mind if I join you?" she asks. Her red hair is heart melting and her voice is that of music.

  "No," I respond with a shake in my voice. "Please do."

  She smiles and places her tray onto the table and takes a seat across from me.

  "Nice hair by the way," she smiles. I blush yet haven't seen my own hair for myself.

  "Thanks."

  For a moment we sit in silence. Mike is across the lunchroom mouthing for me to talk. I turn my eyes back on Essence as she bites into an apple.

  "Essence, I--" Searching for how to begin my apology.

  "What made you become a vegetarian?" she asks as she examines her apple.

  Didn't see that coming.

  "Uh, well," I begin. "I've been this way since as far as I can remember. I don't know personally, but I can say I have no idea what meat tastes like."

  "Oh wow," she says. "Had no idea. I've tried to be a vegetarian once, but failed."

  "How long did you try?"

  "I lasted about a week. Once July 4th came, my father grilled chicken, shish-kabobs, ribs, and burgers," she laughs. "I guess the best time to become a vegetarian wouldn't be in the summer especially before July 4th cookouts."

  "I can see how that can be difficult," I smile.

  "Do you ever have any urges to eat meat? Like when it's around you?"

  "No, not really. It does smell good though, but I know if I eat it, I will probably get sick."

  "Really?"

  "Yes," I laugh. "My body won't accept it."

  "I see," she says nodding. "I'm sorry."

  "It's fine. I'm not use to it any other way."

  She bites into her apple and sips on her soda. Speaking of I'm sorry --.

  "Essence, I apologize for the way I've been acting. It has nothing to do with you at all. I swear."

  There. I said it. Now for my punishment. 'Evan I hate you.' 'Evan you're such a jerk.' 'Evan, how do you sleep at night?' On the contrary, I don't. At least not without having a nightmare.

  "It's ok, Evan," she smiles. "It's no big deal. We all have bad days."

  YES!

  "Yeah, and I've been having many of those," I respond shaking my head.

  "Those nightmares, huh," she says. "Talk to me. I'm listening."

  I have to say I hate it already when she stops talking. I begin to tap my foot on the floor repetitively.

  "Well, I had another nightmare last night."

  "What happened in this one?" She asks as she pushes her tray aside giving me her undivided attention.

  "I was a child. The little girl, Beebee, was there again."

  "How do you know her name?"

  "She told me."

  Essence nods and continues to listen.

  "So, I'm chasing her down these hallways and she leads me through this empty room that's huge, but has nothing, but a piano. Then we run down another hallway, and I lose her. When I find her, she's in this dark room, sitting on a chandelier."

  "A chandelier?"

  "Crazy huh?" I chuckle. "But yes, a chandelier. The boy from my other nightmares comes in and is upset that we were in his room, and he makes us play this game called, 'jumper' with him. So Beebee and I follow him onto this balcony and he jumps from the ledge and into the water. What felt like seconds, he comes back up, and pushes me over the ledge. Before I hit the water, which actually turned into rock, I woke up."

  "Wow," she says sitting up in her chair. "And you still can't figure out where you might have known them from?"

  "Not the slightest," I shake my head. "I have no idea at all."

  "I'm sorry, Evan. Maybe it will all go away. It happens sometimes. Nightmare after nightmare."

  "Well, that's it. I've been trying to convince myself the same thing but it just seems like they are only getting worse."

  I sigh and stretch my arms across the table placing my forehead on its cool surface.

  "Hey," Essence says as she places a hand onto mine. I almost jumped out of my skin. Her touch sends an electrical surge through my body. Goosebumps infest across my arms, but I didn't care to give the remedy of calming down. I like her touch. I just can't understand why she makes me feel this way about her. I look up from the table.

  "Don't be discouraged," she smiles showing her perfect, straight teeth. "I'm sure you'll figure out more as time goes on and before you know it, you'll be sleeping peacefully. I can help where I can."

  I feel better already. Essence makes it easy to relax and she certainly sounds convincing in that I'll figure things out. Her eyes squint at my books.

  "My writing book," She says to herself before returning her eyes to me. "You write them down?"

  I look over at my notebook and then back to her unsure if that's a good thing or if it makes me weird.

  "I write everything down pretty much."

  "You mind if I--" her hands start to go for the book. I protect its cover with my hand. She stops, but then I remove my hand and Essence slides the notebook in front of her keeping her eyes locked onto mine. I watch as she turns page by page. Squinting here, then her eyes widen a bit there, then some small smiles, and even some facial disappointments. I fiddle with my thumbs and then my stomach growls. I take a few bites out of my apple, but then a thought crosses my mind and forces me to drop the apple. It rolls across the table to the edge slowly, then falls forever. I snatch the book and the page she was reading crumbles into a wrinkle.

  "Evan? You--?” She asks a bit shocked. "Changed your mind?"

  "I'm--sorry, it's just that--"

  I try to think of some lame excuse to explain yet another breakdown. If she only knew the thoughts that are going through my head she would understand. She wouldn't be shocked. She wouldn't be upset. She sure would not have asked to read it in the first place.

  "I have to go."

  That was the only escape from this embarrassment I can think of. I grab the rest of my books and leave out the cafeteria without looking back. I hear her call my name, but I pick up the pace. I hope she didn't read that entry. The one about her. The one proclaiming her perfections and my deep knitted feelings of her. I press my back against my locker and slide down to a sit. I open the notebook where the page had crumbled into a reliable bookmark of where she read.

  Phew!

  Just a couple more turns and I would have been exposed. It was never my intention of having anyone read my notebook, especially Essence. But her compelling beauty would not allow my lips to form a no. I had surrendered myself, becoming a mere puppet to her ventriloquy.

  From down the hall, I hear someone approaching. Do I dare take a look? No. I already know who it is. I should maybe walk away now, act as though I don't see or expect anyone coming. But I can't. I can't be a coward. I have to face my problems head on and learn to stop running.

  She is close and now I have to find a way to explain my actions once again without using the same lame excuse. I take a deep breath almost sure that she was right next to me and turn to face --. Mike.

  "You alright, Ev? I saw you talking with Essence and it looked like something was wrong. What happened?" He asks.

  I sigh.

  "I apologized for yesterday which she did forgive me, but I think I made an even worse impression on her when she asked about my notebook."

  "The one you write everything in?"

  I nod and press my lips together.

  "Yeah."

  "And I'm assuming you said yes."

  "I had no choice, Mike."

  "I mean you could've said no," he assures.

  "She doesn't exactly make that easy," I say shaking my head. "I would assume Bianca would make you feel the same."

  He coughs up
a smile, and nods as he folds his arms across his chest.

  "I guess I have to agree with you on that," he says shrugging.

  "Right. Well anyway, I let her read it, but there was something personal that I didn't want her to see."

  "Do you think she read it?"

  I look down the hallways hoping not to see her. I shake my head.

  "No," I say. "But had I let her read just a bit more, I would have been too late."

  "Good thing she missed it," he smiles as he pats my shoulder. "So what are you stressing for?"

  "I snatched it out of her hands. I scared her."

  Mike stares at me for a bit before exhaling deeply.

  "Yeah," I say acknowledging his deep sigh. "I've been doing plenty of that lately."

  "Try not to stress over things too much," he says. "Anything is fixable, just have to make the right approach."

  I hate when Mike goes all shrink on me, because then, he is always right. I can fix this. It will take a lot out of me, but I can fix it. I have to. I just didn't know what to do in that situation. It was the only way, in my opinion, to save my world from ending. My feelings for her must remain a secret and I would never let the whispers in my book reveal that secret.

  "You're right," I say. "I can fix this."

  "I know you can."

  "I was afraid she would read it, tear it out, and throw the paper in my face or something," I exclaim as I start to grab my books for the next few classes.

  Mike leans against a locker.

  "Well, that's a thought. What if she didn't? What if she likes you too and just isn't saying anything?"

  It takes barely a second to figure out the possibility of that was quite minuscule. That's bizarre. Not in any of my dreams would that happen. Essence LaRoux with mutual feelings? However, instead of feeling upset about how slim of a possibility it is, her feeling the same about me, I find laughter. Maybe I shouldn't be so negative though. Maybe for once I should look at the other end of the spectrum and consider, 'what if she does? What if Essence LaRoux really has feelings for me?'

  "Noooope," I say to Mike shaking my head.

  "Oh come on, Ev. Even after what happened yesterday she sat with you at lunch and without an invitation."

  "Yeah, well, I just screwed that up right?"

  I close my locker.

  "I see you and Bianca are a bit friendly," I add. I wish Essence and I were like that. Growing in friendship.

  "I'm going over to her place today after school. Knock out some homework and just relax. We may hit the pool later at the rec center. Care to--"

  I frown.

  "Oh-- Sorry, man," he says as his head slouches. "Forgot."

  I nod.

  "It's fine. We probably wouldn't be friends had you not save me from those kids when we were younger."

  "Yeah," he says, his lips forming a small smile. “Well, if you're up for it later tonight, we may grab a bite to eat. Think about it. It can help ease your mind by having a calorie loaded meal."

  He laughs and pats my shoulder. I force myself to join.

  "Yeah, I'll think about it."

  "Well, I'll catch ya' at the end of the day. And umm," he frowns a bit and looks me up and down. "If you do decide to come with us, think about getting a tan."

  I quirk my eyebrow.

  "Looking a little pale there, buddy. See ya'."

  He jogs off as the hallway begins to fill with students. I head to the bathroom in a hurry wondering how much of me has changed since last night. From my hair, to my glasses, to my physique, and now, the surface of my skin. Before I reach for the door handle, Cedric comes out and stands in my way.

  "Problem?" I ask.

  He looks me up and down and smirks.

  "Looks like you have plenty of them already, Macrae."

  He bumps my shoulder with his as he leaves. I scoff and shake my head.

  I approach the bathroom mirror, stop, and think to turn back around to leave. I take a peek and slowly step into the spotlight. My heart skips. I am pale, practically clear. I step closer to the mirror bringing a hand to my face. I gasp at the coldest of my skin. I run my hands through my black hair. Not a strand of brown can be found. I take a deep breath and examine my chest and flex an arm. I feel no swelling, but my body is noticeably bulk.

  "How is any of this possible?"

  I can't say I don't like the new look, but I am perplexed on how it happened. Something is happening to me.

  ~

  As the day comes to a close, I have not seen Essence in the hallways. I'm not avoiding her, but I am ashamed of my actions during lunch. How much can she take from me and my random outbursts of crazy? I decide to wait for Mike at my locker as the hallways begin to fill with students and teachers. A group of girls look my way and smile, holding their books to their faces. One of them waves a hand of hello. I wave back with a smile and blush as they continue down the hallway looking over their shoulders at me giggling to each other. I'm not use to such attention.

  Five minutes go by. Then ten. Then twenty. Still no sign of Mike. The hall begins to empty and soon, Essence is at her locker grabbing her belongings. I prepare to shape my lips for the word 'sorry.' She closes her locker, throws her backpack over her shoulders, and heads for the exit doors.

  I try to fight against my frozen state which feels as cold as my skin, wanting to go after her, but I couldn't budge. My legs disobey often and such a time as this, I need to fight this fear of her. I find myself standing alone in the empty hallway. No voices, rattling of papers, roars of laughter, or girls flaunting at me. Just me, myself, and I. The way we are in the womb, the way we are when we die.

  Chapter Nine: Missing

  Dear Journal,

  Essence has given me the cold shoulder at school. We've barely made eye contact or spoke to each other, and I have yet to apologize. Plenty of times I came close but bailed. I'm sure it would've been excuses to her.

  I have tried to keep myself busy by writing and drawing at home and have spent much of my time in the rainforest, free from any visits, but neither of those seemed to have helped me cope with feeling alone. My mother noticed the changes, which has not let up one bit, but she has been distant from me as well. She's also been working double time and is barely home. Each walk I took in the rainforest; I have to say, I hoped to see that man again. I have questions and want to know where my father is, but don't know where to start on my own. Why hasn't he shown his face all these years and what did the man mean that my father would be proud?

  Apart from this, there are two things at the top of my list of worries. Mike is gone and my heart hasn't beaten since I woke this morning. It's been almost a week since I've seen or heard from him. We've never gone a day without talking to each other. I have to find out what's going on with him, but I fear something happened. Something bad. I can't explain how might I know this, but I FEEL it. Today, I'm going to head over to his house and see for myself. I've tried calling his house phone, but no one answers. His grandmother is hard of hearing, so my best hopes were to hear Mike's voice answering. Even if his grandmother did answer and I find something to be wrong, family tends to hide things for you as well as hide things from. Both I am not fond of at all, yet understand.

  With hope,

  Evan Macrae

  -

  Mike has lived with his grandmother for quite some time. When we were in middle school, his father had to relocate for work somewhere in Florida. His mother decided it would be a great place to move, but perhaps they were running away from Utica. People move away, never here. When Mike didn't want to go, his grandmother stepped in and insisted to take care of him, but of course his mother was unsure because of his young age and she would only be able to visit so often. It was his father who was okay with the idea of him staying. His father was always lenient about everything, whereas his mother was quite the opposite. At least he has them both.

  I head down the front steps and to the garage for my bike. It would have been nice to drive, but my mothe
r is gone, doing the usual, making deliveries. I pedal up the road. The smell of rain fills my nostrils. The sun is hiding behind the clouds and tries to peak through the trees above me like a game of peek-a-boo. I ride past many businesses, such as day bars, pizza shops, and bakeries which fill the air with a toasted bread aroma. The wind begins to blow a bit, so that can only mean it won't be too long before it rains. A short-cut will be needed.

  I ride past a small convenience store, a bookstore, and around the back of an old abandoned pawn shop. I pedal down the road which soon turns into forest green ground. I whip past towers of trees as I ride my bike leaving tracks in the mud. As I pedal deeper into the forest, branches snap beneath me and small drops of rain begin to smack the leaves. Just a distance away, I hear the water of the Mohawk River along the rocks and cliffs. I follow the sound and soon skid in the mud to a stop. I drop the kick stand and walk past a few trees and bushes and overlook the horizon from a high vantage point.

  The gray ceiling of clouds tumble atop each other, the dim sun meets my eye level above the endless water, and the trees are planted on my left and right, riding the hills of the valley. I take a step closer to the edge and close my eyes inhaling the smell of rain and allowing the moisture in the air to hit my face. When I open my eyes, in the distance is a large building that sits atop the tallest cliff not far across the water. My mother always makes deliveries by the cliffs. I wonder if she has ever gone there. I have to admit, the longer I stare, the more familiar it becomes. Even this scenery. I've never taken this trail to Mike's before. I know I haven't, but something says it isn't this first time I've been here and this isn't the first time I've seen that building.

  I pedal up Mike's driveway and stand my bike in front of his house. As I walk up the front steps, his grandmother peeks through the blinds, which makes me chuckle. She's hard at hearing, yet can predict someone's arrival. She opens the door.