Rebirth - The Beautiful Fallen (3 page)

BOOK: Rebirth - The Beautiful Fallen
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How he spoke of my birth father.

             
This was a man that no one seemed to know anything about.  The one who no one even had a clue as to his identity or whereabouts.  And yet, Chris acted like he knew him.  Or, at least, he talked like he did at one time.  What could all of this have meant?  And what was the connection with me having nightmares about a child that looked  so much like him?  Could he really have meant it when he said that I knew him before?  Or was this all just some huge, crazy hallucination?

             
I ended up lying there for a good half an hour with these thoughts playing in my mind before I found myself drifting off to sleep.  But once again, my mind was invaded with the same nightmare that I’d been having off and on for my entire life.  The same one that involved the little boy that looked so much like Chris, and the massacre of innocent people around him.

Opening my eyes in the dream, I found myself standing in a doorway, looking into what appeared to be an old stone house.  The floor was of dirty stone, and it looked like the house itself may have been hundreds of years old.  There were blood stains everywhere, and three bodies were strewn around the room.  They had all been butchered.  And near them, a little boy was sitting there crying.  He looked like he was maybe six or seven years old, with light colored hair and different colored eyes.  Dressed in an old fashioned white nightgown, he sat there alone, obviously badly frightened by the scene around him.  It was the same mute scene I’d been seeing for years, although I could still feel the pain in my heart as I looked at this pitiful child. 

But this time, something changed in this dream.

As I watched, I saw a dark figure float up from out of the ground behind the child.  The boy looked up quickly as the figure laid a hand upon his shoulder.  And suddenly, I could hear whispering fill the air.  It seemed like this dark figure was whispering to the child.  And as odd as it sounds, it almost felt as though they were trying to comfort him.  The boy was staring up at it, his strange eyes wide and full of tears that were flowing down his blood stained cheeks.  I found myself listening very closely now, and I could actually hear some words in the whispers…

              “… I’ll keep my promise to you, if you keep yours to me…”

             
I awoke very quickly from that dream.  Staring up at the ceiling, the changed scene replayed over and over in my mind.  Just what was that?  I’d never really heard anything in the dream before.  It had always been strangely mute.  Yet, this time, it had been something more than just a crying child surrounded by dead bodies.  There had been whispering, and that dark figure.  Sitting myself up, I had to shake my head again as I pictured the child’s face in my mind.  He looked so much like Chris that it was scary.  This couldn’t have been just a coincidence.  There was just no way.

             
The sound of a knock on my door quickly brought me back to reality.  “Yes?” I managed, trying not to sound too shook up.

             
Mama peeked in.  “Hey there.  Not feeling too well today Ariana?” she asked me.

             
So she’d known that I’d been home for most of the day.  She’d probably even heard me come back in.  But Mama tended to keep to herself a lot anymore these days, even with me.  So it wasn’t that surprising that she hadn’t bothered with checking in on me before this.  Thinking about that, I decided not to tell her about what had happened earlier in the day.   Instead, I just played the sick card I’d been handed.  “Yeah...  I went to my first class and started feeling a little sick to my stomach, so I came home to get some rest.” I replied.

             
“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that.  But I told you that you’ve been working too hard with all of that. Are you feeling up to having something to eat?  I have some dinner on the table, but I could always fix you some soup.” Mama offered.

             
I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand and couldn’t believe my eyes.  It was almost seven in the evening now.  Had I really slept that long?  Still, I didn’t let that on to her.  If I did, then she probably would’ve really been concerned.  Like I said before, Mama was funny with a lot of things.  But especially when it came to me.  “Sure, dinner sounds good.  I'm feeling a little hungry.” I told her as I pushed myself up and off of the bed.

             
The house itself was well lit, and nothing looked unusual about it.  All of the pictures still hung like they always did on the walls, and the carpets were still somewhat worn looking from never being replaced like they should’ve been.  Even the painted white walls had a touch of yellow tinge to them, showing the house’s age.  Glancing at the pictures as we walked downstairs, I couldn’t help but think about how they were all just of me.  She never had any pictures of herself or even Daddy hanging in any of the houses we'd ever lived in.  I’d always thought it was strange, but at the same time, I reasoned that perhaps she just didn’t want to be reminded of his death.  Mama never talked about Daddy unless she absolutely had to.  And even then, it was quick and to the point.  Eventually, I had learned to just leave the subject alone completely.  There was no sense in trying anymore if that was the reaction I was always going to get anyway.

Still, following my mother down to the kitchen, I found that I was dwelling on other things aside from the strangeness that seemed to keep a stranglehold on my family life.  I just couldn’t get that dream out of my head.  Just why did it suddenly change like that?  And what did this Chris Liam have to do with all of it?  While obviously I’d never considered my life that normal, this had all seemed just a little too strange.  And to have a continuation of that dream like I just had… what did all of this mean?

              “I thought I’d be creative today and try something new.  Tell me what you think.” Mama said as I sat down at the table with her.  On my plate was a seafood combination over pasta.  Apparently, she’d decided to try cooking harder things again.  It happened on occasion, and it usually all depended upon when she decided she wasn't being lazy.

             
“Oh, it looks good Mama.” I said, forcing at least a partial smile.  May as well make her happy for now.  I really wasn’t in the mood for any kind of debates at this point.  I already had way too much on my mind.

             
My mother smiled happily from the chair across from me, her worn features actually lighting up slightly.  It was funny when I looked at her now.  She’d aged a lot in the last ten years.  More so than what one would have thought for a woman only in her mid-forties.  Her long brown hair was thin and graying in the roots, and wrinkles were beginning to deepen on her pale face.  But even with all of that, I could still see the beautiful woman she once was as well.  Especially when little things like this would make her happy.  Or at least, I thought they did.  Sometimes I wasn’t too sure of anything with her.  Like I said, Mama tended to be pretty mental at times.

             
But as we ate, she looked back over at me.  “You don’t look too happy tonight Ariana.  Did something happen today?” she asked.

             
I didn’t bother looking back at her.  “No.  Nothing happened.” I replied.  I really felt like I had to lie that time, although she may not believe me anyways.  Honestly, I believed that my mother may have been a bit psychic at times with how easily she could read into me.  But that didn’t mean I had to tell her anything I didn't want to.

             
“Well, you need to perk up a little.  There’s no reason to be so down.  If you’re worried about your classes, it’s not that big of a deal.  As I told you before it's your decision if you want to continue with them.” Mama went on.

             
“No.  I’m not worried about my classes.” I told her.  Then I decided to maybe approach the subject of my dreams again.    It had been a long time since I'd tried to talk to her about them, but now I felt like I had to.  Maybe it would allow me talk about Chris without her going on about why I shouldn't talk to people again.  “I’ve been dreaming again.” I added.

             
“Really?  I thought I had given you something for that.” Mama noted.

             
“Yeah, I know.  But I’m still having them.  I guess the medicine didn’t help after all.” I replied.  I decided it was better to not tell her that I wouldn’t take them.  I would liken it to avoiding a landmine.

             
Mama didn’t look too happy as I said that though.  I watched the frown as it crossed her face.  “I suppose there’s not much we can do for it then, is there?  Those pills were supposed to be the best ones out there to help with things like this.” She admitted, shaking her head.

             
“It’s strange though.  I keep having that same dream I've told you about.  The one with the little boy in the room with those dead people.” I went on.

             
“Now now, you know it’s just a dream.  Besides, that little boy isn’t real.  And you said that the house looked like it was from the dark ages.  It’s just an odd nightmare that won’t leave your mind for whatever reason.  There’s nothing for you to be so worried about with it.” Mama assured me as she picked up the dishes to put them in the sink.

             
“I know.” I said.  “But you know what's weird though?  Today in my first class, I saw this new guy come in.  And he looked so much like him.  He was all grown up now, but he looked just like he could’ve been that boy.  And he talked like he knew me.”

             
At my words, I saw my mother stiffen very noticeably, actually dropping one of the dishes into the sink.  Remarkably, it didn't break.  She quickly caught herself though, grabbing it back up and trying to act like it never happened.  I had the distinct feeling that she was hoping I didn’t notice.  “That’s impossible dear.  That boy is just a dream.  He's never been a real person.” She assured me after another moment of silence.

             
“I know.  But he just looked so much like him that it kind of scared me.  Anyways, he said that his name was Chris Liam.  But he said that he wasn’t telling me his whole first name because he didn’t like it or something like that.  Sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” I went on, trying to break the tension that had suddenly settled in the room around us.  Obviously, Mama hadn’t taken what I’d said too well.  I wondered why…

             
Mama nodded slightly.  “Yes, yes it is.  Boys are so silly at times.  And fickle too.  The littlest things can upset them.  That’s why you shouldn’t bother with them or others.  People in general are always fickle.  And boys are always just looking with the wrong intentions.  Especially with such beautiful girls like you.  I told you before, you should always make sure to keep your guard up with them.  You’re beautiful, and it attracts wolves.” She said.

             
This was nothing unusual with my mother.  When I said that I thought she had mental issues, this is exactly what I meant.  My mother hated people most of the time, especially men.  She worked from home, although she tended to hide herself away in a private office to do so.  And that was part of the reason why.  Even when I was a child, I would witness this.  For a long time, she even had our groceries delivered to the house instead of going out to the store.  I never got to experience any of the normal childhood things like trick or treating or going to amusement parks.  The only contact I ever really got with others was when I would occasionally go out to the park with her.  And even then, it was never long enough for me to even make any friends, let alone meet a nice boy….

             
“I guess.  But he did actually talk to me.  He was a little strange though.” I finally managed to say.

             
“Like I said, you need to tell him to just stay away.  You don’t need him coming around you and trying to fill your head with his silly ideas.  He’ll only cause trouble.” Mama went on as she continued working on the dishes.

             
I found myself looking at her for a moment, not too sure of what to think with all of this.  I knew at that moment deep inside that I was beginning to suspect that my mother knew a lot more about all of this then she’d ever let on.  But at that time, I didn’t really have much of a heart to question her anymore either.  So instead, I decided to just let it go.  And I hoped that perhaps once I did, I would somehow make myself forget about Chris Liam and all of those crazy dreams.

             
Little did I know that all of this was just the beginning.

 

Two

 

 

             
It seemed as though my life hadn’t been normal for as long as I could remember.

             
Walking through the wooded path near my house two days later, I found myself looking back on this fact with some clarity.  The weekend had finally come, and I was free to do what I wanted once again.  Although I’ll admit that by then, nothing had felt normal all week .  I’d gone back to the college the day after the incident with Chris, but had not seen him. In fact he didn’t show up again after our initial meeting.  I began to wonder if he had even been there at all.  Perhaps, somehow, I had just made him up in my mind.  A visual hallucination?  That was a terrifying thought, but seemed pretty likely at this point.  I even came to reason that perhaps I’d done it because I wanted to give a name to that child in my dreams.

             
It wouldn’t have been too surprising to me if that was the case.  After all, like I said before, I’d lived a rather lonely life.  Perhaps I had even been born to live this way.  If anything, Mama had made sure of that one after my daddy died.  She moved us around a lot while I was growing up.  I think I saw a good portion of the United States during that time, and I probably lived in just about every climate imaginable.  But thankfully, we’d settled down two years earlier in this sleepy little town.  We came to live on the outskirts of Fallsburg, in a cozy little house, and I would occasionally walk the wooded paths from my backyard whenever I wanted to.  Even though by then I’d found that I was fairly unused to being the least bit social with people, I did like being there and having this little bit of freedom in my life.  After all, it beat being stuck in that prison of a house with only Mama to talk to.  And that, of course, had only been on her terms since we’d moved there.

             
I couldn’t help but shake my head again as I walked. Once again, I was thinking about Chris Liam, and his strange, sudden appearance at my class.  My imagination.  That was all he’d been, right?  And yet, I found myself thinking back to my mother’s reaction when I told her about him.  It was so strange, almost like she’d been afraid of hearing about him.  Was she scared that I may have been losing my mind?  Somehow, I really didn’t think so.  There was something else there.  Something she didn’t want to say out loud then….

             
My train of thought about this was interrupted though as I looked over to my side.  There was something strange looking sticking out of the tall brush.  The off white color of it set it apart from the dark green of the leaves.  Feeling a little curious, considering I hadn’t noticed this before on this path, I walked over to take a closer look.  Carefully moving the bushes and vines aside, I was surprised to see that it looked like an old stone pillar that someone might have put at the end of a driveway.  It was cracked and wrapped partially in the vines, but looked like it had once been solid white marble and very high end.  Now this was a curious find for me.  Like I said, I hadn’t noticed it before.  And looking farther up the path now, I could see that there was an old back road about ten feet away.  It made me wonder if perhaps there was an old abandoned house near there.  I couldn’t say that it would’ve been that unusual for this area.  After all, it was pretty old itself.  But the idea of an abandoned house out there was fascinating to me, and made me curious enough to take a better look.  It was always a hobby of mine anyways to explore the woods in general.  So finding an old abandoned house would have been quite an amazing discovery.

             
There was a lot of tall grass and brush, but I could see as I made my way through it that there was remains of an old gravel driveway there.  Several feet from where I saw the old pillar, I finally saw a dilapidated looking house emerge from the parting trees.  Though it was still standing very well, one could tell that it had definitely seen better days.  But standing there and looking at it, I had the strangest sense of déjà vu come over me.  There was something very familiar about this house to me, although I couldn’t make myself place it.  Slowly, I walked up to the front, hearing the crunch of the pine needles and dead leaves under my feet.  There were broken and cracked cobble stones leading up to the front door, and looking over to the side of the house, I could actually see what appeared to be an attached garage there.  I wonder when this place was built, I thought.  I didn’t think that it was that extremely old, given its style and the fact that there must have once been a car for that garage to have been there. At least, that's what I reasoned to myself.

             
The front entrance had double doors.  Pulling on them, I tried to get them open so that I could get inside.  But they were stuck hard, and nothing I did seemed to budge them.  Feeling a little more determined now, I walked around the side and to the back.  To my surprise, I saw a deck and an old in ground pool back there.  The pool itself had definitely seen better days.  The foundation around it was cracking and it was filled with dirty water.  Carefully, I made my way up the three steps onto the half rotting back deck of the house.  There were old glass doors that separated the deck from the main house, and I could see an old screened in porch that had also seen better days sticking out on the other side of the house.  The screens around the porch were weathered and torn, and there was old furniture inside that looked to be rotting away.  Turning back to the glass doors, I found that they were cracked and broken.  Carefully, I reached my hand through one of the breaks and felt around for the handle.  Finally, I felt the lock there.  It was definitely stiff, but I felt like maybe I could unlock it if I tried.  It took a bit, but I finally managed to do it.  The door slowly creaked open as I pushed on it, and I was then greeted with the stale smell of a house that had been closed up for decades.

             
Peeking inside, I wrinkled my nose at the dank, musty smell that filled the air.  It was obvious now that this house had been abandoned for a long time.  The inside was covered with a layer of dust on the hardwood floor, and there was more old furniture in there, although it didn’t look anywhere near as bad as the weathered furniture outside on that porch.  Stepping inside and seeing the old kitchen, I looked around slowly.  I felt so odd about being there now.  Just why did this place feel like it was so familiar to me?  I really didn’t get it.

             
Looking around me, I let myself take it all in.  The house was definitely old and had been abandoned for quite a while, but I was sure that when it was new, it had been beautiful.  Coming in through those doors, I stood in a large kitchen, and to my left was an opening that led into what must have once been a den room.  But walking through the kitchen towards it, I found myself stopping to see the center island in there.  Even though most of the marble seemed old and cracked, this one piece actually looked like it had been damaged long before nature had begun taking its toll.  Putting my hand in my sleeve, I wiped the dust and dirt away from it.  To my surprise, it looked like there were indentations deep within the marble.  There were cracks that had formed around it, but the indents were definitely there.  I felt a chill come over me as I looked at it.  They almost looked like handprint indentations. Could someone have actually slammed their hands down on it that hard to have done this?

             
I shivered slightly, making myself move away from it and into the den room.  It was fairly large, and I saw that a lot of the old furniture left in there was covered by dust filled sheets.  Looking to my right, I saw a narrow hallway leading to the back, and the entrance to the foyer that I hadn’t been able to get into when I’d first walked up to the house.  Taking my chances, and being careful about where I walked, I made my way over to that foyer.  To my surprise, it looked like there was a small bedroom off of it.  Once again, I had the strangest feeling of déjà vu as I looked at it.  It was like a memory in the back of my mind was replaying.  Someone familiar had once had this room.  But who?  In spite of myself, I walked over and peeked through the doorway.  The door itself was actually missing now, and I didn’t see a sign of it, although the hinges looked like they’d been ripped off at some point.  Again, there were signs of violence in this house.  What in the world could’ve happened here?

             
The room itself was dim, but I could still see fairly decently with the day’s sunlight pouring in through the tattered curtained window.  It was funny, but looking in there, I almost felt like I was expecting someone to say hi to me.  Someone I should’ve known well.  But I shook my head at the odd feeling.  I was letting my overactive imagination run away with me.  That’s all this was.  Still, I felt curious enough to step inside and take a good look around anyway.  May as well, beings I was there.

             
The room itself was small but seemed like it would’ve been comfortable.  A bed sat there with its headboard placed against the far wall, and there was an old dresser on one side of it, with bookshelves on the other.  The books themselves looked pretty decrepit as I took a closer look at them.  I tried to pull one out, but it fell apart in my hand.  Coughing a little bit at the dust it churned up, I then turned to the dresser.  Maybe I could find something in there that would help me understand this place a little bit better.  So I walked over and quietly began opening the drawers.  Yes, this was giving me the feeling that I was probably somewhere that I really shouldn‘t have been now, but I really wanted to know why this house, this room in particular, felt so familiar to me.  Not to mention just what could’ve happened there.  I did reason that maybe I’d heard something about it somewhere in town.  And if there was something left behind, it may just jog my memory.

             
At first, it seemed like I wasn’t having very much luck though.  The dresser was empty for the most part.  But coming to the last bottom drawer, I realized that there was something pushed to the very back of it.  It was a small, ordinate box.  Pulling it out, I shook the covers on the bed off to free the dust and sat down to take a better look at it.  The box itself reminded me of an old fashioned jewelry box, and there was an intricate pattern carved onto the top of it.  It seemed to be made of solid wood as well, and was painted with a dark finish.  I carefully played with the top, considering that it seemed to be stuck.  Finally, I had some luck.  The top popped off for me.  Inside, there was a small book and what looked like two old envelopes with old photos.  Here we go, I thought as I carefully opened the first envelope.  Inside, there was one photo.  It was rather old looking, perhaps from the twenties or thirties, and it had been done like a portrait.  In it was a beautiful woman with light colored hair.  Looking at the back, I found a name in spidery looking handwriting.

             
Faith Evans, 1931.

             
Once again, a familiarity nagged at the back of my mind.  This name was one I should’ve known somewhere.  But I couldn’t place her.  Putting the photo back, I opened the second envelope.  To my surprise, there were three pictures in this one.  The first was once again of the woman.  But this time, she was standing in the house I was now in.  The second was of a man.  He was very handsome, with dark hair and dressed in dark clothing.  Turning the picture around, I saw that there was nothing on the back.  That was kind of disappointing.  I’d hoped to at least get a name to go with him as well.  Maybe to help jog my memory.

             
But the third picture I came to startled me.  In it was another man.  It looked like he was standing outside on the deck of the house.  He had dark hair as well, but seemed a bit smaller in stature then the other man.  He was very handsome too.  But staring at his face, I couldn’t help but touch my own.  This man…

             
This man looked like he could’ve been related to me.

             
Turning the picture over, I saw that there was a faded scribble on the back.  This handwriting looked different from the other’s, and seemed to have a personal touch to it.  I squinted my eyes a bit to read it.

             
I told you this picture would turn out nice.  We should take them more often Saffron. 

             
I reread the note several times once I made it out.  Saffron.  That name resounded through my mind over and over again.  I knew that name.  Something deep inside of me knew it.  This man meant something to me that I couldn’t possibly understand at this time….

             
Suddenly, I felt something warm against my chest.  Looking down, I realized that the heat was coming from the pendant I always wore.  I felt my eyes widen in shock as I pulled it out of my shirt. 

It was glowing.

I’d had this pendant from as far back as I could remember, and had always worn it, although I didn’t know where it came from or even who had given it to me.  The stone itself was smooth and round, and the deepest black I’d ever seen.  It was on a silver chain, and held by vines of silver in place.  I was certain that it was actually worth quite a bit of money.  But I never took it off.  There was just something so uncomfortable to me when I even thought about it, almost like I'd lose a piece of myself.

             
But in all these years that I’d had it, I’d never seen it do anything like this.  Staring at it, I again wondered if maybe I was losing it.  But then, I heard a voice.

             
“Get out of that house now.”

BOOK: Rebirth - The Beautiful Fallen
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