The First Touch (23 page)

Ivan seemed to be startled by her change of tone. “Why would you do that?”

She
snapped back then, “Two days of pain and possible death and you want to know why I would hold it against them?”

Ivan replied sternly, “They are attempting to determine if you are the possible leader of an entire race
Autumn
.
”

She snapped back, “Don’t defend them. I understand their side. They are the ones being unreasonable, and they are probably going hurt me, and I do not forget pain.”

He
seemed
uneasy by the change in her eyes and replied
carefully, “Once we get close to the island if you have not changed fully yet or you do not show any abilities then we will run.”

“You are concerned that I will not change in time?”

He replied with deadly calm,
“No
,
I am worried that they wi
ll anger you, and then
you will kill them all.”

She nodded and replied thoughtfully, “So you really think that I might be this eye
person
then?”

Ivan nodded and stood l
ooking nervously at her, and she
cut him off before he could speak. “I think you should leave me by myself for the
next few days and I will try to slip under.
And if it’s alright with you, I want you to stop by and check up on me every couple of days so that I can still feel you near me ok?” He seemed content by her last words and nodded smiling, even though her chest tightened at it.

Autumn welcomed the knock at the door this time,
and
Ivan answered it as if he
already expected it
. The man at the door was shaking and it brought her a small comfort
, sick as it was, she wanted t
o be left alone for the next few days
, and his reaction confirmed that she would have it
. Ivan grabbed the large bag from the man and closed the door behind him. Then he dutifully place
d the bag next to the bed,
leaning in and giving her a good bye kiss on her forehead, “I will be on the boat and I can hear you when you call for me, even if it is only a whisper.” She smiled and nodded understanding the change in his voice and being thoroughly unhappy by the sound of it. Ivan turned then and walked from the room, stopping momentarily to say, “Goodnight.”

She looked at him longingly and replied, “Goodnight.”

The Change

Autumn walked to the bathroom and showered and changed into her pajamas. The bag that Ivan had rummaged through before the kiss was filled with Items from her home. Clothes, bathroom items and such, but to her surprise a note and a new empty journal
,
finer than the first that she had thrown into the fire
, was waiting on the bottom
corner of the bag. As she pulled it out that side of bag collapsed on to the clothing folded neatly inside.

Serena wrote,
F
or
you, keep your dreams safe. It is fire retardant material, to keep the flames at bay. Welcome to your new life, Love, Serena
. Autumn smiled and opened it and flipped though it finding a strand of satin that was to be the book mark and pulled it to the first page and then closed the Journal. Then she tucked it back into the same spot as before. She looked at the other side and realized that the right hand side must have something propping it up as well.

Her fingers found it quickly enough, and there was a few of her prized collection of books twined together propping up the other side. On top of them was another hand written note, this one was from Grayton.
Autumn, I will see to the cat. Here are a few books to keep you company on those lon
g nights. I am sorry that I can
not be there. Serena and I will be along shortly following Sophia’s transformati
on. I look forward to seeing
you again.
Love, Grayton.

Autumn’s finger followed her finger along the last words, and her mind drift
ed back to that thought again,
I wonder what I will look like. I wonder what I will be like, when I am done.
She imagined Ivan’s smiling face
,
then, the one that he had had in the alley. His eyes
had been so black and shinny,
wet stone
s
, smooth and frightening. Autumn frowned and pulled the twine from the books with little effort, sorting through them. To her delight Grayton had chosen a good selection, three of her favorites and one that she had recently acquired but had yet to read. She was just about to p
ick it up
when something caught her eye in the bag.

It was the corner of a book at the bottom of the bag, it was worn and red. The children’s book filled with nursery rhymes and short stories that she had kept in spite of its macabre origin. The book that had been
dyed red with the
blood from her daughter’s
body
was waiting for her. It was sick, she knew it was, but the ca
r crash had thrown the red
everywhere in the car. It had covered the entire back seat as a mat
ter-of-f
act. She had rem
embered crawling over the blood
covered back seat, feeling it squishing between her fingers as
she
made her way to her dying child.

The red was everywhere; her skull had been entir
ely crushed. It had
soaked into the book that sat in her lap. The book had been her favorite; it went with her ever
ywhere. Autumn
remembered
it vividly
her tiny fingers had managed to grip it even though she couldn’t see a thing and held it tightly to her tiny chest as she lay dying. Autumn never heard the
ambulance;
she died that night too, though they had managed to resuscitate her body. She knew then t
hat she would never be the same though, what mother could.

When she awoke weeks later her body was slowly healing in spite of her will not to live. Her first and only words to the doctor had been, “Why did you save me?” The hospital put her on a suicide watch keeping psychologist interns with her at all times for the first
few week
s. Eventually
,
she convinced them that she was not i
ntending to hurt
herself. A
few days later
,
she left the hospital in a wheel chair having both legs, and her left arm casted. She had been breathing shallowly as well because her ribs were wrap
ped tightly having broken, six of them
. Then she sold everything that she owned, save this book and a small shoe box filled with photos, and moved to another smaller apartment across town, to start again undisturbed by painful memories of her
former
life.

All of that had been nothing
,
compared to the anguish of loosing her light. That had been how
Autumn
had always thought of her child. The
beacon
in the dark, love and warmth, now all that
she could feel was the cold. Those first
cold nights alone
,
crying, holding her pillow and wishing she could die. The emptiness of a part that would never be returned, and could never
be
repaired. The thought of a life, without life was unbearable. It was more than her mind could bare, she wanted this new life so badly, to be selfish, but her mind would not let go of her last. She knew if she let go, then she would also be letting go of her daughter somehow, and she could not do that.

The blood in
Autumn’s
head began to rush sending hot pain into her head then
,
as the tears began to fall
again
. The Image of her child’s death was overwhelming, and she felt her body shift inside ever so slightly then. Her fingers ran over the edges of the sealed book and her nose caught it. Autumn
caught a
whiff of her child’s blood, old and ever so feint but she knew then that it was her first joy in this life’s endless pain. The images began to flash through her head filling her body with wracking pain. Somewhere in her mind
her daughter cried in the dark, and she swore she could hear it….

She pulled the book
in tightly
,
and wept for what seemed forever. She would not let go of her child,
not ever
, she would carry her to her grave, and beyond.
Bring on the pain
she thought, she was ready for it, she welcomed it, smiling within, arms opened. That was her decision; she would keep that part of her life alive, always. No one would take that from her not even herself. The darkness swept over her then and
Autumn
tightened her grip on the book as it pulled her under into dreamless sleep.

***

The voices began as distant whispers, so light and sweet sounding. Over time
,
she began to become more and more aware of her surroundings. She drifted in and out of consciousness. Though her body stayed in stasis, as she became more aware
,
she made a realization that, she knew her body had moved, but she had not remembered when or why. Her skin felt warm and a blanket was wrapped tightly around her body. The familiar feeling of being held filled her with the memory of Ivan holding her. He had said such sweet things to her while she slept her life away.

Her most stressful memory was
a
recent event in the short list of things that she could recall from her sleeping time. His voice had been strained towards the end though
, and she was uncertain why but it seemed import
ant
to him.
She remembered he had pleaded with her to wake up,
and
she had wanted to so badly but her grip would not loosen on her
life. All she could think was
,
I can’t let go. I am so sorry, love.

She remembered feeling his heart beating so quickly and then stopping suddenly and the now familiar smell of blood. Then flashes of rough hands and cold eyes that peered at her while she slept. Followed by harsh words and disapproving grumbles.
Ivan had been caught running, she guessed
, and they were not pleased.
Was he in danger?
Her inner voice replied,
no
and she
had
smiled sending gasps from the onlookers that night.

“She smiled
,”
said the first voice, and then a sweet voice began to sing. Like musi
c for her soul it made her blood fe
el
like ice. Then tears fell peacefully
,
freeing her from any fears that she might have
had at the moment
. The connection between her mind and body was loosened by the desire to be swept away from her immobile body. Then images of Ivan’s smiling face filled her mind and she felt peaceful and calm again.

Then the singing faded away
,
and blackness returned filling in the space
,
with a sweet smell of lilies. They were overwhelming to the point of nausea, and
Autumn
swallowed it back down holding it tightly until it faded as well. Then cold hands traced her arms and icy trails that seeped inside of her skin. The flame inside her chest flared and the trails melted and
dripped off of her skin. The voices argued for quiet some
time and a vice grip latched down upon her hands. To her surprise though in spite of the immense pressure,
Autumn
felt no pain. Only echoes of screams and thuds and a voice so familiar.

Ivan was angry and there was going to be so much pain, she felt the air change and then the singing began again. The room began to spin and something thudded on the floor. Then shuffling and grunting followed by more angry vo
ices. Ivan was safe, as was she. T
hat was what she had gathered from the voices.

Ivan told her later
,
that they had promised to give her more time. As much as she needed, but in return he had to stay away so that he did not s
low her change, but happily he
did not stay away as he had promised
the others
. Each night he came and visited, sliding his hands over her skin and whispering to her sweetly. Then one night not long ago she guessed, he finally stopped coming, that night had been especially cold and long. The cold began to seep inside of her now growing and changing. The veins in her body slowly shriveled and new connection
s
grew in their pla
ces
as cold fluid slowly destroyed
the warm blood cells and replaced them with something new
,
something darker. Feeding her whispers, her feelings, with power and tension and opening her mind to a deeper sense of awareness.