The Knight Of The Rose (45 page)

what made you mine, what made you
real
—was gone.”

“But I’m still here. David, I—”

“It doesn’t change things.” A tight crease pulled his brow at the centre. “Look, I know I said

once that I will always hope you will one day change your mind, but that hope no longer exists. It’s

been ripped away by reality, Ara. I will
not
stay with you as a mortal—I
have
to leave.”

“Why? Am I so repulsive to you that you can’t love me with a heartbeat?”

David stood back and looked down at his clenched fist. “You know it has nothing to do with

lo—”

“Then what is it?” I almost screamed, I could feel my face burning with heat. “Why won’t

you just love me enough to think I’m the only thing that matters. I know I messed up. I know

I’m moody and spoilt, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t let you ta ke me away, I’m sorry I went with

Jason, and what you’re doing to me now, David, is making me goddamn well sorry I ever fell in—”

“Ara!” He held a finger up, tilting his head awkw ardly away as if he were fighting a deep,

instinctual urge within him—what it was, I couldn’t tell. “Don’t say what you’re about to say. If you

say it, it’s been said, and you won’t be able to take it back.”

I held onto the urge to yell at him, to scream at him, but I could only hold it so long; it burst

out in a singular cry, and I folded my face into my hand. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”

“Ara, Ara, stop.” He gathered me in his arms. “Ara, please, please don’t do this, my love.”

“No. You stop it. Don’t call me that. You can’t call me that and then leave me.” I grabbed his

shirt and looked deep into his eyes, my tears stopping with my breath. “You don’t know what you’re

doing. You can’t leave. I’ll die if you leave, David. I’ll never be able to—”

“You have to cope, Ara.” He unfolded my fingers from his shir t. “You’ve got no goddamn

choice.”

“No. I do. This is love. This is life. I’m alive.” I tapped my chest. “I’m alive. We get a second

chance, David. Don’t waste that.”

“I won’t.” He looked into me, and I could almost feel him reaching out to stroke my face, but

though his eyes said he wanted to, his hands stayed by his sides. “I’m leaving you so you can live. A

life with me, running, hiding like dogs, Ara, would be a waste. I will walk out that door—” he

pointed across the room, “and you have the choice to either say goodbye to me now, or
never
have

the chance again.”

It hurt so much—in my heart. I rolled my head back, letting my face crumple with the pain of

his impassively conclusive words. “David. Please.” My whisper was nothing but a breath. “You

can’t—I won’t live without you. I won’t, and you can’t make me.”

But he took another step away from me. “I’m sorry, Ara.”

My mouth dropped with the disbelief my heart suffered for each i nch of space between us.

The fight in me turned to fear, and I tried to move my legs—to get up and run after him, but they felt

like jelly; I could barely even move my toes.

“David.” I reached out. “David. Don’t. Please. Don’t go.”

He looked away from me, his eyes scrunching tightly in the corners as he closed them.

“David, I love you. If I could take it all back, I would. Just, please. Please stay with me—

please don’t leave me again—I want to be with you.”

“But you can’t be with me, Ara.” He appeared beside me and touched my face, stroking the

release of tears from my cheek with his thumb. “I left you with scars from my involvement in your

life—and it’s time to put it right again. I love you too much to let you get hurt like that.” His voice

trembled; he steadied it with a breath. “And I can
never
watch you die again. I swear—” he shook his

head and clutched a fist over his heart, “—as long as I walk this Earth, as long as I continue to move,

I will have to believe that you are alive—that you still exist, or I will not survive this human life.”

“But—how do I go on without you?” I sobbed.

David stood stiff and strong in front of me, hi s tears completely dried. He pressed his lips

together and moved his head from side to side. It hurt me to see him so composed when I was

breaking apart. “You only have an other hundred years to have to live with this, Ara. I have a lot

longer—I’m sure you will find a way to cope.”

“How can you be so mean? Just because I can’t be like you.” My broken heart turned cold

then, and anger rose inside me. “You don’t love me—not when you can just leave so easily. You hate

me? I see i t in your eyes. It’s why you won’t look at me. I’ m just a game t o you, aren’ t I? Just

another victim of your cr uel-streak! You never truly loved me,” I mutter ed the last i n defeated

resolve, sobbing into my hands.

“No, Ara—I love you too much. That is why I ha ve to leave you,” he subdued the emotion in

his tone. “I’m sorry. It’s over for us—you belong to
him
now.”

“No.” I reached for him, just managing to grasp his shirt before he could pull away. “David,

please—you’re making a mistake.” My eyes widened with panic. “Please don’t leave me?”

Behind David, the door flung open and Mike’s smile dropped when he saw my face. “What

have you done to her?” he growled, bounding toward me.

The tense energy tore a way from the space between us as Mike pushed David aside. My

outstretched hand gr ipped tighter to my David, but my fingers slipped, and he backed away, one

painful step at a time.

“Ara? What happened?” Mike asked, tucking my abandoned reach into my lap.

“No—” I pushed up from Mike’ s embrace and searched the room for David; he hesitated by

the door, holding it ajar as his gaze quickly averted once it met mine.

“I know this will be hard for you, Ara.
Believe me
, I will regret this decision for the rest of

eternity,” his silky voice quivered. “But I cannot love you the way you ar e. I will only bring you

pain.”

“David,” I whimpered.
I’ll die without you. Can’t you feel that?

“Non, ma cherie. The sun will rise again in y our world, but for me…it never will. We were

just a dream of mine, Ara...but even dreams eventually die.”

My eyes closed as the words he spoke touched my soul and broke my heart; when I looked up

from Mike’s embrace, my David, my knight—was gone.

Death; those of us who out run it can never escape it. It held me in its clutches long enough

to steal my life, and though I breat he and talk and am capable of human emotion on the outside,

inside, I’m a cold, putrid corpse of a human being.

He left me—backed away, turned around and held his head high as he fl ed my life for

eternity. No second chance, no discussion—just gone.

My body will heal, even though my limbs tur ned to jelly while I was in the coma and the

doctors sent me home on a strict schedule of rigoro us and painful physiotherapy, they tell me I will

be okay—one day. But they’re ta lking about my ability to wal k to the bathroom by myself or

breathe properly when I sit up. None of them know what torments I suff er inside, even the

psychiatrist in Vicki can’t tell.

But despite the darkness I live in once more, and the fact that I can’t go anywhere or do

anything except my weekly visits to the hospital, the care Vi cki, in particular, has given me, has

been nothing short of saintly. There was one point there where I even willingly called her
Mum
.

“Ara?” Vicki broke my reverie, knocking on my door, even though it was open.

I looked up from pretending to read my book. “Hm?”

“Um—” She shuffled her feet. “Emily’s on the phone.”

“Vicki!” I slammed the book down beside me. “I told you. No phone cal ls. I don’t want to

talk to anyone.”

“But, Ara, honey, it’s been weeks—she just wants to see you’re all right.”

“Do I look all right? God, I can hardly even walk myself to the bathroom, I—”

“Yes, you can, you did it this morning, remember?” She grinned.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want visitors.” Especially not Emily—she was right beside

Mike when he...found me.

“Okay. I’ll uh—I’ll tell her to call back another day.” Vicki nodded and closed the door.

I stared at the empty space for a moment, my lip quivering, my arms weighted with grief. I

just can’t do it. I just can’t l et Em see me. I miss her so much, I miss school, I miss normal life, but

I’m so goddamn embarrassed and ashamed. I don’t even want to look at my own fat her, let alone

my friends.

No. I decided with a shake of my head. No, I definitely can’t see Emily. I just can’t.

“Hey, ba—” I jumped and wiped hot tears fr om my cheeks, hurriedly gr abbing my book as

Mike swung my door open. “Ara? Baby, are you crying?”

“Nope.” I shook my head and held the book to my chest as he sat beside me. “I’m good.”

“So these are tears of hilarity then?” He looked at the title of my book.

“Yup. Funny scene in the book.” I forced a smile.

Mike’s eyes narrowed, his head seeming to shake, though he held it sti ll. I knew he wasn’t

born yesterday, but I also knew that with the prudence they all exercised with me lately, he

wouldn’t push for the truth. The question was etching on his lips, though; he wanted to know why I

cried if I didn’t remember anyt hing about the attack, and a part of him, I was s ure, wondered if

David had something to do with it.

He asked me once, if there was some reason David had become s o upset when he sa w the

wound on my neck—more upset than anyone else. But it wasn’t the wound which upset David, it

was because that’s how he knew that Jason had done this—that was when he realised I couldn’t be

changed and that he’d lost me forever.

Mike knew there was more to the story, but he hadn’t pieced it together...yet.

“Ara?” Mike said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Quit fazing out.”

“Oh, sorry, Mike. What did you say?”

He sighed and looked down at my ring, then s hook his head. “Nothing—it was nothing. I

uh—” he took a breath, “—I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Okay, Mike.” I scratched just beside my nos e as he exited the room. Normally, I’d have

asked him to tell me what he’d just said, but I didn’t want to know.

I looked back at my book and flicked the edge of the frayed binding, trying not to let the last

few minutes I had with David play in my mind—how he told me Jason would never come back to

kill me again, that he left me alive with the promise he’d never break my heart . Why would my

heart matter to him, and why would he be at risk of breaking...

I snapped from the world of thought, removed my hand from my chest and shut my book

with a dull thump. I wish I could clear my head. I wish I could run, not run away, but just run. Feel

the fresh air and the sun on my face. But anything that was once normal no longer belonged to me.

The summer went away while I wa s asleep, and after so many blood transfusions and

months in a bed, even being on my own had beco me a luxury. I’m prett y sure they all thi nk I’m

suicidal again. And who knows, maybe I am. It’s not like any reason for living exists in my world

anymore. I’m not even sure Mike still wants to marry me. No one mentions it. No one mentions

moving back to Perth. No one mentions anything.

As another night rolled to a close, Sam sat at the base of my bed and sketched pictures in his

journal. He was good company. It was enough for him to just sit and be silent. “What do you

think?” He held up his book.

“Wow, Sam, that’s amazing.” Not just because the grey sketch of the girl looked exactly like

me, but because she was smiling—something I’d not done for weeks.

He rested the book in his lap and kept his eyes on it. “Ara?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“Do you remember much—about the attack?” He pretended to re-trace t he lines on his

picture. “Does it keep you up at night?”

He meant well—but he shouldn’t have asked that. “Yes. It does,” I whispered. “But I try not

to think of it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Me too.” I covered my head with my blankets.

No one told Sam the finer details of the attack, but gossip has a way of spr eading, and when

Sam came home the other day in tears for what people were saying, Mum and Dad were forced to

tell him the truth.

I closed my eyes and remembered the whispered conversation I overhead between Sam and

Mike earlier today, when Sam told how he got i n a fight, standing up for me when a boy remarked

that I’d brought the attack on myself—that I
enjoyed
it. The boy had told Sam that Dad lied, that my

attacker really did...violate me. Sam punched him.

No one knew what really happened; I’d take th e truth to my grave—however far away that

may be. And I didn’t plan to stay in the US either. My story made the news and all the major

papers; there was no escaping th e stares. Conclusi ons based on odd facts are the wo rst kinds of

infectious humiliation. I’d already planned to jump on a plane and go back home as soon as I was

well—whether that was as Mike’s fiancé or not, I didn’t care. I just needed to get away from here—

away from it all.

David once said that it was ki nder for a vampire to kill a human than to leave them alive—

suffering in agony until they fi nally pass. He was ri ght. Death w ould have been kinder. Perhaps

that’s why Jason left me alive—so I’d walk the Earth for the rest of my days, not only ashamed and