A bit of a story I'm writing-
00:41 Nov 06 2009
Times Read: 556
The bombs exploded creating fountains of earth and thunderous bangs, everywhere there was chaos. Bonfires had spread to buildings, piles of flammable rubble, and cars. The shadows of terrified people scrambling for cover, trying to make their ways to safety made the darkness swell and shift as though it was a living thing.
Dora peeked over the top of the embankment, eyes frantically scanning the dark. Her mind recoiled from the horror before. Hours before there had been laughter and singing. Bonfires had been the center of celebratory gatherings of merry makers. Hours before her life had unexpectedly been complete, her heart had finally been whole and the world had been magical place. Then the gates of hell had opened up and now Dora hid below the embankment barely staving off hysteria waiting for the one person she needed near her. The world could burn down around their ears but if he was by her side she’d be ok.
There was a thump and a scrabble on the ground behind her, her stomach clenched. She whirled made a fist and cocked to swing. Violence surged through her veins as she prepared to defend against an attack. A rough hand clamped over her mouth and another caught her wrist in a bruising grip. Her knee shot up making contact at the fork of her assailant’s legs. The attacker grunted and Dora used the moment to bring her free arm up between them and chop the neck with the knife edge of her hand. His grip loosened and Dora pressed the advantage twisting her captured hand to the outside and around the restraining arm she spun the tall muscular frame of her attacker using his arm as leverage turned them both around, yanked the arm up behind his back and slammed him face first into the embankment.
“OWWW!!! Shit, Isadora!” Came the muffled voice of a man.
Dora squealed and jumped back, releasing the man.
“Quiet!” He hissed, “I was trying to make sure you didn’t scream.”
“Jaren!!! I’m sorry! You scared me!!!” She whispered fiercely.
Jaren spit dirt out of his mouth then flexed and rotated his arm before clasping his crotch and sliding down to sit with his back against the embankment, with a pained grimace.
“That was you scared?” He groaned, cocking an eyebrow, “I don’t think I want to see you mad.”
Dora dropped to her knees and scrabbled over the gravel to kneel next to him. She ran her hands over his face searching for injuries. Fingers hovered on his lips and then pushed thick black curls back from his forehead, before raining kisses down on his face.
His arm wrapped around her pulling her closer as his lips met hers. Dora spiraled into the kiss, and the horror of the night was drowned by the emotions that roared through her. Limbs twined as they tried to drink each other in. Dora’s heart swelled and she felt as though a fire were burning through her and Jaren was the only thing that could quench the burn.
Their hands began to stroke, tugging frantically at the clothes that bared skin from skin then Jaren stiffened and pulled away with a grimace. Dora felt as though he was pulling away a piece of her when they broke contact. They stared at each other panting; Dora felt her mouth trembling with a pout. Her body trembled with the desire to pounce, despite the chaos around them. The end of the world as they knew it and all she could think about was this man and what he did to her.
“Dora, you have to go.” He said leaning his forehead against hers. Grief choked her and her eyes pricked. She sucked in air that tasted of acrid smoke and the salty sea.
“I can’t. I can’t leave you.” She cried and the tears began to spill down her cheek. A sob threatened to escape and she clamped her lips shut to keep it from breaking free. Frantic, she was becoming frantic; she fought down another wave of hysteria. The thought of leaving him compounded with the death and mayhem that sprung up around them was too much for her to bear.
“Yes you can. You have to.” His face crumpled a little and his dark eyes were filled with despair.
“No, no, I just found you. I can’t lose you, I can’t.” Dora pushed his arms down and wrapped herself around him. He was a raft in the middle of an ocean of loneliness, without him she’d drown. If she could just hold on everything would be ok.
Wolves howled in the night and she could have sworn that Jaren’s ears pricked. He tensed and cocked his head his eyes became slightly unfocused, his lip curled slightly in a snarl. Then he shook his head and focused on her again.
“Dora, if you die here…” He whispered urgently into her hair, inhaling deeply as though he were trying to breathe her in.
“Jaren, please, ple-ease… I’ll die if I leave you here.” Her whisper became a sob, a sob that pulled her soul into a physical sense of being, and pain throbbed in her heart. She sobbed into the soft jersey fabric of his black t-shirt a flood of tears soaking it. Her fingers clutched at the fabric wrapping it around her fists, she tried to bury her face in the thin material.
His strong arms tightened around her for a second, and then he lifted her chin and kissed her gently at first then deeply. Their bodies melded together in urgency and they clung to each other with the desperation of the doomed. Time seemed to stop and race forward all at once, Jaren tore away again. This time he shuddered with the effort. Gently he pushed her off of him and stood pulling her up with him.
Dora was limp with grief and followed blindly as he led her down a weathered dock. The ocean boiled a few feet below the grey planks. They stopped, and Dora moved to wrap herself around him again. She wouldn’t leave him, she couldn’t leave him. She gripped his forearms even as he pushed and held her away. He was pushing her away, the confusion and rejection felt like a physical blow to the head. She staggered and leaned helplessly into his pushing his hands. Her vision blurred and her eyes were glassy and unfocused as she searched his face.
“No!” she wailed piteously.
“Dora, Seth, you have to go back for Seth.” He spoke softly and Dora searched his eyes they were swirling depths of pain. She was confused and though his words tugged at something inside her she didn’t want to listen. He kissed her a quick, harsh smashing of lips, and then shoved her off the dock into the water.
“Jaren!” She screamed as she plunged into the dark water.
“I love you, Isadora.” She heard his voice as though he had whispered right in her ear.
With a powerful kick she thrust herself to the surface of the roiling water gasping in air she scanned the dock and the shore. He was gone, a flicker of movement caught her eye and for a moment she thought she saw a dark shape blur across the beach. She squinted and it was gone, before she had time to think she was sucked into the dark water.
***
Dora woke with a sob; and sat up in bed gasping as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She cried noisily, sniffling and hiccupping, feeling as though somebody had died; somebody who had meant the world to her. The dream was already fading, she had a vague impression of danger and struggle, but it was the intensity of emotion that was still there. The taste of his kiss still lingered on her lips and she could recall the feeling of his shirt against her cheek. The sobs quieted, but the grief did not. She struggled to recall more of the dream, an impression of dark eyes, a handsome face smeared with dirt and curly black hair hovered indistinctly in her mind’s eye. She had no idea who he was or why she was dreaming about him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was real and that he needed her, that she needed him too.
Rolling out of bed she padded to the bathroom and stared at her red swollen eyes and her tear streaked cheeks in the mirror. Her eyes were an unnatural glowing green against the red streaked whites and there was an intense crazed gleam in them. Dora shook herself and splashed cold water on her face. Closing her eyes she took deep breaths in and out willing the aching thud of her heart to slow, mentally soothing the tremor in her hands and belly, swallowing the tears that still wanted to be shed, she tried to pull herself together and back into reality. When she raised her head and looked in the black framed mirror again the face she saw there was a bit more calm, though still puffy with the effects of crying. The crazed gleam had faded and her eyes though still a brighter green than normal, looked a little less demonic, there was just a look of deep sadness in them.
Sighing she knew that sleep was hopeless at this point. She walked down the hall to the open door opposite from her own, peering in she could just make out the shape of her son’s sleeping form in his tiny bed. Stepping into the room she let out a quite oath, pain stabbed through her arch and she hopped on one foot holding the injured one awkwardly, glaring down at the lego she had just trod on.
“Seth!” She growled, tempted to wake up the sleeping child and make him clean his room right this instant. Realizing that was bit crazy, and would probably be considered over board by most, including herself, she limped over and pulled the blankets around his shoulders then brushed a kiss over his soft little cheek. Her heart swelled with love, even as it continued to ache with loss.
Making her way to the kitchen Dora thought about the dream, it had faded but the intensity of the emotion remained. She knew it was significant, but couldn’t say why. Setting milk on the stove to warm she got down some honey and stirred it into the milk.
Her phone vibrated on the counter. Glancing at the clock, 2:35 AM, she frowned as she flipped it open to see who it was. Sylvia.
“Don’t you sleep woman?” Dora smiled as she spoke.
“I was asleep.” Sylvia replied dryly, “What did you dream about?”
“I’m not sure.”
“It was powerful though?”
“I think so.”
“Tell me what you remember.”
“I don’t want to right now. I’m tired and my heart feels broken.” Dora felt tears prick her eyes again. The verbal admission of her feelings made them that much stronger.
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
“I’ll lock the door.” Dora said half-heartedly, a little annoyed, but mostly resigned.
“I have a key.”
The line went silent and Dora sighed as she poured warm milk and honey into two mugs and carried them over to the kitchen table. She tried to mentally prepare for facing Sylvia, her unwanted mentor, uncorruptable friend and permanent pain in the ass, but she felt emotionally wrung out. There was a hollowness inside her and ache in her chest where she knew her heart should be. Trying to recall the dream again, she laid her head down on her arms and let the tears come. Somebody she loved and she couldn’t be with him, couldn’t find him, and couldn’t even really say he existed. Now that she had, had the dream she realized that she had dreamed of him often through the years, not the same dream but the same person. Since she was child in fact, but she hadn’t dreamed of him in more than ten years, and she didn’t know who he was or why he haunted her dreams.
But that wasn’t true either, she knew him, he was her everything, her other half. The only person she knew better or loved more was her son, Seth. Seth, something about Seth in the dream, she lifted her head from her arms and frowned as she tried to clear the fog in her brain. Sighing she stirred her milk and gasped at the reddish purple bruise that was rising on her wrist. How the hell did I get that?
Examining the bruise she laid her fingers experimentally over the bruise, the pattern was right but the size was off. It disconcerted her, but she didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. Maybe it was from trying to haul in too many grocery bags at once.
Dora took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. She reached with her mind trying to reconnect with the origin of those strong feelings the dream had left her with. For a minute she thought she could trace the path, then it glimmered and winked out of her minds eye.
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