Ring. Ring.
Aaron Forest opens his eyes and groaned. For a second, he debated on whether simply ignoring the call and falling back to sleep and being a good for nothing lazy ass. Slowly, it dawned on him that he wasn't at his house, this was a motel room, and that he had a nine thirty check out that day. He rolled back over on his side and lifted the phone from the receiver and hung up again, allowing himself to wallow in the sweet silence a bit more.
"Dreams only get worst." He muttered to himself, wiping off a thin line of sweat from is forehead.
Even four years later, he still had the dreams. Nearly every night he relived the war, the battle that killed them. Every night he watched them both die. Every night he relived his own near death experience.
Aaron sighed and flung his feet from off the motel bed that was full of mysterious stains from past guests. That didn't bother him though; he had slept in much worst conditions. Aaron showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and t shirt that had life is good written across the chest with the same signature stick figure doing some sort of activity that implied life was good.
Aaron stood in front of the dresser mirror and wondered vaguely whether he should bother fixing his hair to look a bit nicer. His hair was longish brown the fell down in the back toward his collar and fell a bit over his ears. He had the kind of hair that you really didn't need to worry about looking nice or not. Not that he really cared how people he didn't even know saw him. He was twenty nine and had been out of the war for four years. His eyes were a grayish green framed with dark lashes. He had a scar along chin, thin and barely noticeable. There were other scars too, ones from where he had been hit the most.
Aaron himself was quiet, reserved, solemn looking. No one can remember the last time they saw him crack a smile. A real one. He was also restless, never staying in one spot, always traveling, hardly ever at home.
Most people, girls especially, found his quiet, dark personality rather charming, enduring.
Aaron gazed at his reflection, his cold eyes blank. Aaron was cold. He wasn't mean, unfeeling toward others, he was just cold. Could never warm up to anyone or anything. His eyes reflected his coldness, his restlessness. Most people couldn't bare to look him in the eye, what they'd see, or seen, was pure sadness and melancholy, a story that need not be told. There was a gruffness about him to, a slight frown on his lips that implied of aggravation and sleepless nights more than plain sadness.
As for the rest of him, all was ordinary. About five eleven, a muscular torso left from the war, a nose slightly big, ordinary ears, nothing else to indicate anything sad.
Aaron scowled at his reflection and turned away. He hadn't even unpacked the day before when he had arrived. He pulled out a toothbrush and a tube of travel toothpaste and started to brush his teeth. As he stood brushing them, his cell phone started to ring next to the bed. Aaron flipped off the water and quickly spat out the foam in his mouth and answered the phone.
"Hello?" He said, wondering who would be calling him this early.
"Aaron? It's Cassey."
Aaron bit down on his tongue and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh."
"Yeah."
They were both silent for a second. Cassey was Aaron's sister, though she tended to treat him more like a mom at times. "Aaron? You still there?
"Yeah, I'm still here?" He replied in his gruff, sleep choked voice.
"When are you coming home Aaron?"
Aaron grimaced slightly and sighed, sounding like a wheel losing air. Cassey was one of the only people who asked him that anymore. Other people gave up, deciding he'd come home when he felt like it. "I dunno sis, soon maybe."
He heard her sigh on the other line. "I just-I just wish that I could believe you." She said.
"Listen, I'm just gonna spend a few more days on the road then I'll come okay? It's just a long vacation."
"No," Cassey interrupted. "It's not a vacation. In the past three years the road has become your home and your home has become a vacation." He could tell she had started to tear up. Her voice sounded slightly choked up. "I miss you Aaron."
"I miss you too."
There was a silence.
Aaron closed his eyes and imagined Cassey, his sister. He imagined hugging her, suddenly realizing he really did miss her. Cassey understood him; she could almost read his mind. Whenever he had been in doubt, he had turned to Cassey. Cassey had always been there for him; maybe he should be there for her. But he couldn't go home; it always made him so unhappy. So many memories…
"Listen I-I just wanted to see how you were holding up."
"I'm fine."
"Have the pills worked?"
"I threw them out."
"Aaron!"
"They did nothing for me Cassey!" Aaron shouted angrily before he could stop himself. "Medication can't stop my nightmares; you can't just stop your dreams. Dreams are human nature."
"I know that but-"
"But what? You haven't done anything wrong. You aren't the one who let down your friends. You aren't the one watching them die again and again every night. You weren't there when they died Cassey. You have never seen the horrors of war, you haven't been bombed, you haven't had a tree fallen on you." Aaron was breathing hard now, his face had gone red. He had lost his temper again, he hadn't meant to. A side effect of…his life.
On the other end, he could no longer hear his sister though he imagined she was hurt and angry at him. "When will you stop blaming yourself?" She asked him quietly. "It's not your fault they're dead Aaron, it was an accident." She sighed sadly.
Aaron calmed down a bit and seated himself in the desk chair, leaning his forehead on his palm. "I'm sorry Cassey, I didn't mean too-"
"Yeah, well, you did Aaron." Her tears seem to flow from the phone, wetting Aaron's cheek. He realized they were his own tears.
"I gotta go. Bye."
"Cassey-" Too late, she had hung up.
Aaron flipped his cell phone closed and dropped it onto the desk with a hollow thunk. He stood and paced the room, torn between going home and staying away. Sometimes, he felt it was just better to avoid memories, it would save you a lot.
Maybe that's one reason, he later thought.
If he had only faced them earlier.
If he had never gone to the damned town.
If only.
"Are you checking out?"
The attractive blonde standing at the counter of the motel gave him her winning smile showing off about a dozen teeth. Her smile seemed to hit his cold exterior and falter, cracking into a thousand pieces. She faltered herself at the surprising intensity that emitted from his eyes that were so cold and deep.
Aaron nodded silently and placed his shabby suitcase onto the counter. The blonde eyed it in surprise. "Think it's about time to buy a new one?" She asked him a low, sultry sounding voice.
Aaron shrugged.
She giggled like a school girl. "Where you heading next handsome?"
Aaron glared at her briefly. "Dunno, back home I guess."
"Oh," She said, waiting to see if he would say something else. He didn't. She flashed him another dazzling smile, nearly shuddering at the sight of his eyes again. They were just os dark, so endlessly deep. It should have seemed romantic, she thought, but it was nearly frightening.
"I watch for you…endless darkness comes to me now…"
"You're eyes…so cold and deep…"
"The pain…will it ever go…?"
Aaron glanced at the radio playing a new song suddenly. It was a popular song; Aaron had heard it about a dozen times. The music was a mix, a haunting melody and rock'n rollish type he supposed. The woman's voice was low, soft, she sounded sad, depressed. Her voice floated in the nearly empty, plain looking lobby, acting as incense, making everything suddenly appear so…dark. The woman's voice chilled Aaron to the bone, her words floating into him, curling around his spine sending chills up and down it.
"Is there any point now…for this pain?"
"What is there to do now…?"
"Metal so cold…it pierces my skin."
"I wait for you to come…wait for the day…"
"I am waiting for someone…someone to come save me now."
The blonde caught his frozen expression. A slight smile curled her lips. "Do you like Dahlia?"
"Huh?" Aaron snapped back into the present, the fierce storm in his eyes briefly diminishing. "Yeah…I did."
"I simply loved her." The blonde gushed, trying to start a conversation. "Her music was so in."
"Yeah." Aaron muttered, walking away from the desk. The blonde watched him leave, feeling disappointed.
"What's his problem?"
Aaron slid into his old car. He sat there a moment, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. After a moment, he finally opened his glove compartment. Among a flashlight, gun, knife, and crap, he finally pulled out a CD case.
The front featured a woman standing on a small stage with a blue light pouring on her. Her hair was blonde and pulled back into a bun with a few loose pieces hanging dramatically over her face. The woman was lovely, her full mouth sported pink lipstick and her dark lashes created shadows on her face.
"Dahlia, Dahlia, Dahlia." He muttered, turning the CD over to look at the various tracks.
Aaron popped in the CD to his ancient CD player and put the car in reverse, pulling out of the motel's parking lot.
"Somebody give me a reason,"
"Somebody give me just one reason, yeah,"
"I need a reason,"
"To live."
The woman crossed the desolate street, her high heels making hollow, tapping sounds up the street. The fog curled around her delicate ankle, hugging to it like a cool, pale blanket. Here and there, shadows slipped through the fog, disappearing and fading like they never really were.
The building's watched the woman slip through the fog, their dusty windows like big black eyes. A streetlight, faint and covered in dust, flickered animatedly. Above the town, the skies were dark, as dark as her soul.
The woman slipped into the shadows, unnoticed by the inhabitants that walked the streets now. She grasped a brown coat, wrapped around her middle. It was cold out, but she liked it. She had always preferred the cold to heat. Besides, it didn't matter either way. She no longer felt anything. Every emotion, lost in a river of darkness, her life gone, her music unsung.
She had something to do; she needed to be there for when it was time. Other's had come, none had gone. None of them were him. They didn't share hers and his darkness. She concentrated, enthralled in the night, her beauty magnified until it shone, but the light was dark. It wasn't just hers anymore though, it was theirs…
She could sense him; she knew he wasn't far, the darkness held them together. Soon, he would come. For now, she felt him, the soft voice of her own flowing to her like the night wind. The soft almost melancholy-like music, the woman's voice, her own, singing her own life, her own misinterpreted song.
"I see you're listening to that song again by Dahlia." The woman murmured softly as she crossed another street. Her eyes, a soft pale blue flecked with navy blue and fringed with mascara, opened. She smiled softly, a cold thin smile. "I've been asked so many times by fans if there was a deeper meaning than 'Well duh I'm depressed, haven't you been listening?"
She paused and chuckled, her voice as dry as winter and…death. "Maybe she wasn't waiting for someone…" She countered thoughtfully. "But for him." She continued walking, her heartbeat matching her steps. She sensed him. It wouldn't be long now.