Chapter 2
Elizabeth Parker
was beautiful. In every sense of the word. She had dark hair, waving down her
back to her waist. Her skin was rich with color and life, her body petite yet graceful.
She had big eyes, deep brown, which held a depth that had bewitched many. She
was aware of her beauty, but she didn't let it rule her life. She was brought
up in a loving home as an only child. Her parents loved her, cherished her and
adored her. They saw her as a blessing, a gift sent from God. Even though she
had been loved, she had not been spoiled. She was raised in a simple home,
where money was not a certainty. Ever since she had been old enough to
understand, she had been taught to be humble and modest. Her mother taught her
to be grateful for every small thing in life. Her mother also taught her to
always try to see the good in people. Every person had something good inside of
her. Some had buried it deep under thousands of layers, others displayed it at
the surface. She had grown up in a protective environment. Yet she had been
taught independence. She was a quiet child. A child of few words, but countless
thoughts. She easily gained people's respect. They took one look in her eyes
and they knew that they could trust her, that she wasn't going to do them any
harm. The beauty on her inside was openly displayed through her eyes for people
to take a part of.
As she had grown
up, she lacked the experience of having a close friend. A best friend. Someone
to share all thoughts with, all secrets. Someone to laugh with, cry with and
gossip with. She was an unusual child, and she grew into an even more unusual
young woman. Children her age did neither tease her nor make fun of her behind
her back. They had a respect for her that they couldn't explain, that they
didn't even contemplate over why they had it. She was like an untouchable
angel. If she was touched, her purity would be defiled. She quietly existed in
the outer fringes of the world, her presence merely a flutter in many lives. As
she left the childhood behind her, boys started to turn their heads after her.
They were spellbound by her unapproachable stance, and her modesty. She carried
her head high, but simultaneously she appeared humble to the world. As she
entered the teenage years, the people around her changed and along with that
their opinions of her changed. She was no longer treated with the same quiet
respect and acceptance. The boys competed in being the one to take away her
purity. Simultaneously, the girls started to talk behind her back. Jealousy
towards her beauty and her enchantment with the boys thrived and nourished
cruel behavior.
Her teens became
a difficult time. She still was just as any other teenager. She still had confusing
thoughts about herself and her identity, just like everyone else. Her body was
going through changes. But she was alone. She didn't have anyone to talk to.
The girls were turning their back on her and the boys just wanted her because
she was different from the other girls, and she was therefore considered to be
a conquest. She knew that she was different. And she hated it.
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She slowly
drifted out from the mist of sleep. The beams of the morning sun was tickling
her eye-lids, and she couldn't help but smile. She carefully opened her eyes
and let her heart fill with the warmth and relief the sun gave her. It had
stopped raining. She lazily rolled over onto her back and yawned as she
stretched her stiff limbs. She just laid there for a while and watched the
reflections created by the sun dance over the ceiling. She took a deep breath
and rose into a sitting position. She had to get up. It was a new day, and she
had to get to work. She swung her bare legs over the edge of the bed and stood
up. The floor was cold against her bare feet, but that didn't matter to her. As
long as the sun was shining nothing could destroy her good mood. She walked
into the kitchen and poured some water into a small pan to make herself some
tea. She walked to the front door to retrieve the morning newspaper, and went
back into the kitchen and took out some candles that she placed on the kitchen
table. She put the newspaper in the middle and positioned the candles around
it. She took a box of matches and lit all the candles.
She never
actually read the newspaper. She couldn't bare to read about all the misery in
the world. Instead, every day, she lit a couple of candles and held two minutes
of silence about everything that was terrible in the world. That was her way of
dealing with the harsh reality. That was how she got some peace of mind to her
battered soul. She would gladly take away everything that was cruel and evil
from the world with one click of her fingers, but she couldn't. So she gave it
two minutes of peace instead, to a world where there was war not only between
countries or individuals, but inside of the individuals.
Her mind relaxed
to a meditative state and approximately two minutes later, she took one deep
cleansing breath and opened her eyes. She blew out the candles and put the
newspaper away. She poured the now boiling water into a cup and prepared her
tea. It was a new day. The sun was shining, and the darkness, which the night
before had brought her, was now a distant memory. But memory is a treacherous
thing, and if we don't pay attention it fights back.
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"Liz, I like you
to meet David Anderson," Mr. Smith introduced.
Mr. Stephen Smith was Liz's boss,
and she had great respect for him. He was an honorable and righteous man. He
acknowledged Liz, not for her exterior, but for her intelligence and warmth.
Liz smiled and took David
Anderson's hand and shook it.
"Nice to meet
you, Mr. Anderson," she said.
"My pleasure," Mr. Anderson said.
"And please, call me David."
Liz nodded.
"Okay...David,"
she said.
David Anderson radiated with
strong demeanor. Confidence was coming off him in waves and to most people that
kind of confidence would feel threatening. Some saw it as competition that
needed to be destroyed, others saw it as something to admire and copy, and
some, people like Elizabeth Parker, didn't react much to it, but treated its
host as an equal. Mr. Anderson was tall, with a prominent Nordic appearance.
His hair was short and light blond. His eyes were blue, like the blue of a
winter lake. They were almost icing cold, but sparkling with life. His eyes
were a trait that had made several women fall to their knees. He had countless
number of broken heart in his past. His charm had enchanted many, but even more
had withered under his spell.
"David is going
to be our newest addition to our 'crew'," Mr. Smith said.
"Really," Liz said with interest,
and arched an eye-brow at the young man.
"I hope I will be working with
this beautiful woman," David complimented, a charming smile grazing his
features. Liz blushed, and lowered her head slightly. Many men had complimented
her on her beauty, but she still couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with the
recognition.
"I'm sure you will be spending
some time together," Mr. Smith said.
David watched the young woman in front of her. She was exquisite. He instantly knew that he had to conquer her. It would not just be another woman, it would be a personal victory, a personal accomplishment. The woman seemed unattainable, but that only made her more attractive and desirable.
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The images were
coming fast. They were infesting themselves in his mind, devouring him. There
was screaming, pain, and blood. There was fear and panic. It was inevitable. He
bolted upwards in his bed, his breathing labored, pearls of sweat trickling
down his forehead. He had warned her. He had warned her. Why did he still
receive the images?
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"Liz!"
"Yeah?"
Mr. Smith poked his head through
the door-frame.
"I'm leaving now.
Are you sure you don't want a ride home?"
Liz smiled and shook her head.
"Yes, I'm sure.
But thank you. I'm just gonna call for a cab."
Mr. Smith looked at her with a
thoughtful expression for a second, then he shook his head in disbelief.
"Okay, Liz. Just don't stay too
long. You will not be any good to us if you work yourself to death, you know!"
His tone was reproachful but light.
"I'm soon finished," Liz assured.
Mr. Smith gave
her a warm smile, and then nodded.
"You lock up the place, all
right?"
"Of course," Liz said.
She listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps as it gradually diminished into complete silence until the soft thud of the closing of the door announced that she was alone. She took a deep breath and returned her focus on the documents in front of her. She had a lot to do and amazingly enough she always found herself racing against time.
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Liz was anxiously
looking at the taximeter in the front of the cab as its numbers were slowly
increasing and she was gradually feeling the money in her purse decreasing. She
cursed herself for not bringing more money. She never had much money on her.
She was not a great spender and she never shopped impulsively. Everything was
well-planned. She always had a plan. Except for today. She hadn't planned that
she would be taking a cab home. She hadn't planned on working late today again.
But she had. And she hadn't realized her lack of means of payment until after
she had refuted the ride that was offered her. She sighed and leaned forward in
her seat.
"Excuse me," she said.
The driver kept driving, only
giving her a quick glance over his shoulder.
"Yes?"
"You can stop here," Liz told him.
"Eh..okay," the taxi driver said
and pressed the brakes. The car came to a halt and Liz pulled out the money
necessary to pay for the drive from her purse. She handed the driver the money
and stepped out.
The second she
stepped outside, and she watched the cab drive away in the night, the air
around her seemed to grow colder. The same air that had been filled with a
pleasant warmth this morning. But the sun was gone and with the taxi driver, so
was her only link to humanity. She pulled her coat closer around her body and
started walking down the street. At least it wasn't raining.
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No. He would be
too late. He could feel it. His bones were itching, his head was thudding. He
was going to be too late. He quickened his pace, trying his best to locate her
presence.
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No. She turned
her head forward again. It was all in her mind. All in her mind. She could hear
the wind bristling through the tree crowns that hovered over her head, casting
their dark and thick shadows over her. But there it was again. She could hear
the cars in the distance, but she was walking in a desolate street, strictly
following the pavement. The pavement was her sense of direction. The pavement
was solid, something to be trusted. It would not suddenly crumble into dust
under her feet. (She heard the sound again and turned her head) Would it?
She could see her
apartment now. She could see the familiar lantern outside. The same lantern
that she could see if she looked out her bedroom window. But then she couldn't
see it any longer. She lost sight of it. Everything went dark....and silent.
The silence around her was so deafening that she could hear her own heart beat.
She could even here the blood flushing through her veins, trying to nourish her
brain so that she wouldn't pass out. She wasn't alone any longer.
TBC...
