MINE
"Mr. Grey Will See You Now", The Fair haired blond cherub is Informing me. Her elegance is admirable. Pale Creamy Skin, Placid Blue Doll Eyes: Her hair is curled forming a shapely round bun such as is mine. Only my hair is nearly as Dark as Dead Coals and Far Less alluring, I am Sure.
I Rise and I Can Barely Feel my Bones. My Name is Rose and I am only as plain. Barely Weighing a Solid Hundred Pounds, Pale as The Walls Surrounding Us, Here in The Lobby of Grey Enterprises and Holdings, Inc. I am Small and am Towered by Miss Prim and Proper Personal aid Whose angelic Mask Has Carefully Morphed in To one of genuine Concern. "Do You Care For a Drink Miss Hale?" She offers: Odd Being Referred To as any Kind of Miss. And I can Feel The Sudden Pang making my Insides Jerk.
Jason Taylor is The Man I Hardly Had. My Dear Dead Daddy Never Once Dared To Come Face Me. Perhaps This is Why he has Forced me Here This Day: A Large Lump Sum of Money in Exchange For Forgiveness? None The Less Meaningless in The End. My Finances are Fair Enough Since The passing of my grandpa Judice. The man born so Cold and . . . Frankly Dead Inside Long Before his Time. I Had Never once Blamed Him. Raising Someone Else's Burden is No Fair Game.
"No. Thank You", I Finally Manage. She gives a Single Nod in Response Before Turning in Place. "Follow me Please." I Do as I am Told, Trailing Behind her, Trying To Hide Myself. Being Invisible has always worked in my Favor, Or Perhaps only For my Favor. I Like This: going Unseen and Unheard. By These means no one can see and . . . Half The Time I Can Hardly See Them. The Floor To Ceiling glass Walls Display an ample View of The grand Town down below, Where all The High Rollers are Trolling along: Zombies Disguised in Business Casual Wear and all Kinds of Fancy accessories. Upon Reaching The Fogged glass Office Door, Miss Prim and Proper Turns Back To Face Me Once More. "My name is Andrea", She says in a Much Too Clipped and Fragile Tone . . . "My Condolences For Your Loss." I Manage a Shrug in Response. "Thanks, Yeah", I Regard Numbly and She is Off, Though Only in Time To Miss The Office Door, Opening Before my Eyes, and Exposing a Man Surely Beholding The Radiance of angel. Gracefully he Offers me a Hand. "Good Day Miss Hale, and May I Say I am Pleased To see You've Finally Taken me up on The Offer."
The Offer came via E-mail, as well as Snail Mail, Phone, and Even a Messenger in Disguise Once, Who I was Sure had Tracked me Through a Full Day of Labor, Down To my Very Sorry Excuse for a Home. Home is a Shabby Inn I Had Been Residing in For Nearly a Year by This Day. Times had been Rough Since I Had Become of age and Made my Run For Freedom Up To The Small Town of Forks. Though Hardly Once Nearly as Rough as They Had Once Been. My Drinking had Taken a Severe Turn For The Inferior. No Shocker There. I Suppose I was Only Bidding my Time: Barely Sober, Barely Holding On, Before I Had Been approached by Mr. Grey's Personal Errand Monkey.
I Trail behind him in Silence: animals and I Hardly Differ Much. He offers me a Place on The end of a Chase Lounge across from a long, anally prearranged Desk, where I am Sure Much Business is Done and Many Deals are Irrevocably Sealed. Judging by The Elegance of This office alone, I can Tell Mr. Grey Yields Much Power in This Warped World. He Reclines Back in his Office Chair, and Burning Pools of Pale gray are Suddenly Holding me In Place. His Regard Like a Solid Lock. "Taylor Spoke of You Only a Handful of Times", The Words Leave Pale Plump Lips, Making Me blush as I Look To The Floor, ashamed. "So He Did Speak of Me Then?"
He Cocks his Head To One Side Then and, For a Brief Spell, he Seems To be Carefully Taking me in. "Taylor", he Shakes his Head, "Could Oblige You No Purpose. I Can assure You . . . Miss Hale Do You Prefer Your Funds Transferred Via Cash or Check?" I Nearly Choke Before Speech Comes. "Mr. Grey I Only Came Here To Kindly Refuse Jason's Money and . . . also Because I should Like all of Your Pursuing To Finally Come To an End . . . So Please", I Can Barely Manage, "You Hold on To Mr. Taylor's Money. I am in No Need and Frankly I Should be Taking my Leave."
His Regard alone Could Easily Burn Clear Through my Insides and Then Some. Here I am Sure of This. "I Have No Need For Taylor's Pension Miss Hale. Surely You Should Reconsider . . . Seems He Did Mean To Oblige You This Much", he is Pushing, Prodding, and I Had To Force myself To Look Beyond him before I Push Myself gracelessly Up From The Chase Lounge. "I Thank You For Your Offer Mr. Grey", my Tone is Barely Even . . . " Nice Knowing You." I am Turning From This angelic Figurine. Forcing Each Leg To Carry me ahead, as Far from This Place and This Time as Is Humanely Possible.
"Rosemary", I am Nearing The Door as he Suddenly Calls my Name Breaking me off guard and I am Turning Unconsciously in Place. "Perhaps I Could Drive You Back To The Inn?" he is Offering. I Could Nearly Choke as The Many Memories are Flashing again, Running in The Same Odd Kind of Loop . . . "My Name is Rose", I Finally Manage. His Flawless Mask Nearly Cracks as his Carefully Trimmed Brows Crumple. "Okay Then . . . Rose . . . May I Please Guide You Home? The Sun Should Soon be Gone and . . . You Face a Long Road To Journey Back Unaccompanied." I can Hardly Focus as The Reel is Running and The Surroundings around us Seem To Be in The Process of Collapsing.
"Sure", I Oblige.
. . .
Journeying along The Spiral of a Road Leading To The Inn.
The Familiar Hazy Maze of Evergreen Surrounds Us as he is Speeding Round a Bend and I am Relieved To Know Our Time Should Soon be Coming To a Close. Only Minimal Dialogue Had Been Exchanged and This Horrifying, Nearly Deafening Silence, Has Been Looming Round us For Far Too Long.
Upon Finally Reaching The Inn, I Could Feel The Shell I Had Been Hiding in Crack To Pieces, as I Unlock my Door in a Hurry and, The air is Nearly Coming, my Lungs Begging For a Release of any Kind. Then One of his Hands is Suddenly Reaching across My fragile form, Holding The Lock in Place and my Hand To The Door. "Hold on." The Sound of His Voice is Like an Angel's Echo, Breaking Through, Holding Me Here. "May I Call on You?" he asks and I am Unsurprisingly Dazed and Confused as his Regard Holds Mine. "Sorry?" I Manage. "May I Call on You Some Time – Come The Morning Perhaps?"
"For?" I am Choking again.
He Flashes Me a Quizzical Look in Response. "Do I Really Need a Reason Miss Hale?" "Yes", I conclude, and his Expression Suddenly Turns To a Dark Grim Mask. "Because I Wish To See You Rose." His Burning Regard has Gracefully Transformed In To Pools of Darkness, Draining, Pulling Me in, Unwillingly Even.
"OK", The Reply Comes Before I Ever Comprehend. "Very Well Then", he Concludes. "Do You Have a Cell by Means?" I Have To Blink. "Of course. Um", I Had To Fumble Through my Backpack for my android Phone, "696-0397. I Should go." He Seems To Take his Time None The Less Locking my Number in his Blackberry. Then His Regard is Holding Mine, Morphed Once More In To Pale Placid Pools of Gray.
"I Bid You a Good Evening Miss Hale."
I Had To Choke on The Lump Jammed in my Pharynx.
"Good Evening Mr. Grey."
He Cracks my Door Open, and The air is brisk around me as I Take my Leave, Never Once Daring To Look Back.
. . .
Soon as I am Finally Locked In, Safe and Sound Inside my Cubby Hole, I Slump To The Floor, Beside The Door.
Sunshine is You my Rosemary.
The Words are Playing Inside my Head: Over and Over Again. I Had To Force Myself Up Only To Drag Myself Along To The Bed in The Middle of The Room. I Remain Half Inclined on The Edge. On my Dresser is Good Old Jack. Crisp Liquid Fire, Calling my Name, and The Journey Begins.
A Couple of Chugs Deep and I Can Already Feel Myself Sluggishly going Numb. I Reach For The iPod in my Backpack, Plug in The Headphones, and Scroll Till I Find my Precious Pink Floyd.
Here I am Home . . . Here I am Safe . . . More or Less.
My Room is Reasonable: a Single Television Across From a Queen Bed. One Medium Sized Fridge in The Corner, Bordering a Humble Cooking Space, and a Single Laundry Room. I Had Declined Any Form of Room Service. People are No Good For Me and I am Hardly Good For Them.
So Why Had I agreed To See Mr. Grey?
Simply because Thursday is My Day Off I suppose. The Dog grooming Shop is Closed Every Thursday. My Managers – The Milligans – Like going Camping, Kayaking, and Hiking on Those Rare Sunny Days, and Even on Dreary Dead Days, When You Can Hear The Tree Tops Weep.
The Surrounding Space in Here is a Faded Shade of Teal Green. The Blinds Shielding The Only Display of a Frame are a Dark Auburn, and Aside From This Minimal Touch is a Small Round Oak Table Including a Single Pair of Chairs.
The Place is Homey Enough For One.
Falling More So Under The Influence, I Find Myself Thinking of Mr. Grey. He is Very Near Toxic. Those Pale Placid Grays Could Draw Even The Dead In, and Every Muscle So Clearly Defined Through The Black Tuxedo. The Silky Crop of Hair Easily as Dark as Onyx. Oh, his Skin Seemed To Sparkle under Hindered Rays of Sunshine. Miss Prim and Proper Easily Pales in Comparison Looking Back.
Those Lips . . .
Oh an Ode To Those Luscious Lips.
Could I Bring Myself To Be Rid of Him?
Had I a Single Chance To Pull Back?
There is a Place Where No One Has a Face Baby Doll . . .
I Could Take You There.
Judice Sounds Clear as Day, Piercing Through my Bubble of Bliss, and I Mechanically Reach For Jack.
One Nip. Two Nip. Three Nip. Four. Five. Six. . . . and soon I am Losing Track, Feeling Dumb and Numb as Ever. All Memories Brushed Off. I Remember Pink Floyd's "Time" Happened To be Playing. I also Remember Thinking, Thursday, as Soon as Mr. Grey Came Ringing, I Should Kindly Inform Him I Had Changed my Mind. Spend The Day Relaxing and Probably Recovering, Before The Cycle Recommenced again: all Should be Fair and sound. Of This I Found Myself Only as Sure.
. . .
"Miss Hale."
There is a Cool Rasp Breaching The Barriers of my Subconscious.
"Rosemary."
My Eyes Snap Mechanically Open.
My Head is Pounding and my Blood is Suddenly Pumping Soon as I Realize I am in an Unfamiliar Room. Close Enough, on The Edge of The King Build Bed, Nearly Coddling Me, is The Oh So Memorable Mr. Grey.
"Okay", he is Consoling in a Barely Audible Echo, "You are Safe." This is all Like One Big Lucid Dream of Mine. No Chance This is Possible. For No Possible or Plausible Reason Could he be Here. No, No. See Only a Dream – This Has To Be. I am Dreaming Again. Dreaming of Desire and my Mind Aspires To Remain Here. I Try and Blink Myself In To Consciousness. Try and Close My Eyes again, Though Each Time I Open Them I am Being Grudgingly Pulled in by Mesmeric Pools of Pale Gray.
"The Pair of Us are Here Confined in my Home. Safe", he is Reassuring. "Nearly Home I Found Myself Before Making The Decision To Make a Turn Back For The Inn. I Desired To See You", The Line Sounds So Familiar. "I Found You Nomadic Some Miles From Your Residence. On The Side of The Road. You Refused To Respond as I Called Your Name. You Looked So Cold Rose . . . So Far From This Mess. You Fell asleep In The Car. Hardly Spoke So Much as a Syllable in Response. Mind I Tried Endlessly To Coerce You."
I Can Barely Process my Surroundings: Can Barely Even Process This Insanely Tall Tale. The Lines in his Forehead Crinkle as he Cocks his Head To One Side. "Is This Common For You?" There are No Words. Even Trying I Could Hardly Bring myself To Summon So Much as a Mumble. "Rose You as good as Begged For Your End – You Could Nearly Summon . . ." and Then he is Suddenly Speechless and The Pair of us Remain in Silence For as Long as Only Time Can Tell.
Finally He Shook His Head, as If He Himself Needed To Find Some Form of Reason. "I Need To Go. Try and Sleep. I Should Be Back Soon Enough If All Goes Accordingly. One of my guards is To remain behind. His Name is Brooks and he is here To Serve Any and All of Your Needs Should You Require Aid of Any Fashion." He Rises and I Process he is Dressed in Only a Snug Black Tee and Slacks. He Smells So good: Toxic as Ever.
Suddenly he is Rummaging Through a Bedside Table and in Seconds he is Beside me Again. One of his Hands Comes up and Applies Mild pressure To my Locked Mandible Before he is Feeding me a Chalky Pale Pill. I Try To Move as he Pours a Spicy Tangy Liquid in To Chase The Indescribable Pill Forcibly. Try To Jerk my Head, Only To be Barred by Him. "Shhh", he Begins Again. "This Should Help You Sleep Rose . . . You Need To Sleep", are The Final Words I can hear Clearly Before my Eyelids are Slipping Closed, and I can Feel him Slide Some Thing Like a Cool Silky Fabric, Shielding my Eyes.
. . .
When I Regain Consciousness I Can See The Dusk has Already Consumed The Day. And here I Had Remained. This is No Dream – I am Sure – and as I Forced myself Up I Had To Slog To Prop Myself Up on my Elbows. There is a Face Mask a Couple of inches From Me. Is This The Silky Fabric?
Damn all This To Hell! I Conclude as The Rush of Panic is Only Beginning To Consume and Absorb. I Rolled On my Side and Landed on The Floor, Nearly Falling on my Face, and I had To Force Myself To Rise off of The Cool Marble. Soon as I Do, I Find I am Only Dressed in a Black Thermo Hanging Pass my Thighs.
Dare I Search for My Unceremonious Black Dress? I Hardly Sleep Walk – Less on Occasion I Suppose. Oh in The Name of The Unseen Lord – and on This Day of all Days – Why, Why, Why?!
Scrap This Mess: I Need To Head Back To The Inn. Head Back Home Before Mr. Grey is Back. He May Very Well Try and Drug Me Again. He Had Easily Done So Earlier Today and The Chalky Pale Pill Seemed To Labor Much Too Quickly. There is a Floor To Ceiling Frame Behind me Displaying a Full View of The Evening Skyline. If I Can Manage To Take my Leave I Can Make The Train.
Oh If Only I Could Find my Dress - Black Dress - Black Dress - Black Dress!
Suddenly There is a Rap Coming From The Double Doors across From The Bed. "Miss Hale?" The Tone is Unfamiliar and I am Ready To Choke Before I Can Bring Myself To Respond. One of The Double Doors Cracks Open and a Man Pokes his Head in To The Room Flicking on Golden Beams Coming From The Chandelier On The Ceiling, Dim and Gloomy, my Boggled Brain Only has Enough Time To Make Sense of The Scene To a Fairly Minimal Degree. The Man is Tall and Tan, dressed in a Charcoal Colored Tuxedo. "Good Day Miss Hale", he Begins in a Much Too Fragile Somber Sounding Tone. "My Apologies. Mr. Grey has Ordered Me To Check on You. May I Be Of Some Help?" Clearly This is The Guardian – Brooks – I Can Recall Precisely. "My Things?" I Can Manage Only This Much.
He Moves In To The Room, remaining aside from The half open doors. "Your belongings Had Been Taken To Launder. Mr. Grey has Ordered Fresh apparel For You. I can Bring you Some of The range If You Should Desire." "Range?" I am Choking again. "Yes Mam", he Confirms. "I Need To Go Home", I am Panicking, "I only require a ride Home." Brooks Seems To Break Before he Speaks again. "Mr. Grey Should Be Approaching Briefly. Perhaps You Could" – "I Need To go Home", I End his Monologue Then and There, all Manners Be Damned.
He runs a Hand along his Beard. "Miss Hale I am afraid Mr. Grey Desires For You To" – "Take me Home – I Need To go Home!" I Snap, my Tone Nearly Trembling, as my Body – Every Limb – Every Muscle – Begins To Shake Furiously. Then, Only as Suddenly, Mr. Grey Appears From Behind Him. He is Holding The Door Open. "Brooks", he addresses and My Chaperon is Turning To Face Him. "You May Leave Us", He Calmly Orders. Brooks Turns Back To Me Before Taking His Formal Leave. "Beg Pardon Miss Hale and Of Course . . . I Offer You My Sincere Condolences."
"I Need To Go Home", I Can Only Manage The Same Senseless Demand as The Door is Closing Behind Him and Only Then Does His Full Focus Fall On Me. "Yes. I Clearly Heard This Much Earlier On." Then He is Edging Near To Me. "Rose do you Remember Our One Ended Discussion This Morning?" I Nearly Choke on my Dribble. "You are Indisposed. I Think You Should Remain Here For The Time Being. This is Simply For Your Being . . . and Selfishly for my Personal Reassurance."
He is Soaring High Beyond my Fragile Form and The Space Surrounding Him Seems To be Fading and Dispersing. "So", he is going on, as Casually as a Maniac Can, "Enjoy a Rinse. Then Perhaps you can Join me for dinner. You are Much Too Thin and I Dare say You Appear Unusually Pale. Surely You'd Been Trekking in The Cold For Far Too Long a Time Before I Reached You." "I . . . I Need To go Home. Take me Home", I Can Barely Speak – Can barely Think. Can Barely Process The Surrounding Space and I am Locked in my Place. He Sighs. "OK", he Confirms, and Then he is Inexplicably Holding me In Place Before I Can See a Syringe in one of his Hands, and There is The Pinch and Burn of a Needle Being Plunged Some Tender Place on The Underside of my Neck.
The Scene is Surely Blurring and in The Same My Senses are Tiring Thin as I Can Feel Him Laying me Back on The Bed. "Miss Hale", The Cool Calm Rasp Sounds in One Ear Like an Angel's Melody, "Please Comprehend I Mean You No Harm. I Only Mean To Keep You Safe . . .
"You. Are. Mine."
This Much and The Darkness is Pulling Me Under.
WARNING: To all of my former fans. I apologize for The year long delay and do promise This kind of mishap should be occurring no more. I have been busy working on my personal Novel To be published one day soon and as a consequence I had To pull back on Fan Fiction. In any case for Those of you around I ask you To please Take The Time To re-read This 1ST CHAPTER as There are many changes included and much added info all crucial To This piece.
Please Do Enjoy!