Darkness.
Change.
Cold. Warmth.
Light. No light.
Arms. Death.
Suffocation. Movement.
Whisper.
"Don't move. You are not ready yet."
Silence.
Darkness.
Soil.
Cold. Warmth.
Change.
...
The first thing I notice despite the cold is the darkness that is absolutely everywhere. There is change—change everywhere—and yet I can't figure out exactly where or what it is. I reach out for anyone around me but there is nothing and there is no one and panic seizes me and I begin to scream. Dirt fills my nostrils and my mouth and my eyes but what suffocates me is the loneliness, the fear, and the change. There is a constant moving all around that doesn't stop, doesn't stop even for one second at all.
I—no, not "I" and not "me" but something better, stronger, faster, smarter, dead, and alive—stand but it's less than standing. I'm not moving but the world is shrinking beneath me so that I may ascend. No, I don't just stand; I shift the elements that surround me with a demand that they obey. I can feel the dirt sliding off of me but the dirt doesn't just slide. Every mineral leaps off of my skin to join the rest of the soil on the ground so that I am clean and not displeased in anyway.
Once I'm out of my empty home I see that I am exposed but my body is not my body anymore. It's better; it's stronger; it's much, much faster than I remember. A breeze comes along the night to study me as I study myself—the new creature that I am. It glides past me without the thought of touching but I want to feel the gentle sensation. I lift my arms—not my arms—to dance with the invisible scarves that wrap and hold and fall like silk around me as if we are playing a simple game.
Shift.
I understand that earth had just been shifted under someone's foot and as I turn my head in that direction I realize now that I am not alone. My body stiffens as I see exactly who is with me here. It is Death and he is watching me. Memories trickle into my mind of the last encounter but the strangest thing occurs. The memories don't occupy my mind because it is not my mind—it's better, stronger, faster, and way smarter. I can recall our conversation and at the same time focus on the way the leaves wave to welcome me to this new world. I can see the chemical reactions taking place inside the green tree-hands as I catalogue exactly what Death is wearing that is all nice and new. There is so much more I can do inside of here than I could ever do before. Before I had been crippled by my fear but now I can shiver at his frightening, handsome glory and remember everything that had happened at the same time.
Of their own will, my eyes rise over the contours of his face until they meet his glowing orbs that contain so much unstoppable power. I immediately burst into a million different emotions that hurt too much to feel because they aren't my emotions; they are stronger, they are harder, they are scarier, and they are impossible to control. In order to survive I look back to the ground I had come from and the ground that he stands upon. Not even his shoes are dirty. Just like me the soil is afraid of him and why shouldn't it be? Nothing is safe from Death.
Another shift.
I understand now that he is waiting for me to do something but I don't know what it could possibly be. A part of me considers dropping down at his feet to thank him for saving me but I know he won't like that and neither would I. The only other thing I can imagine is to curtsy like we had for the guests when they arrived but in the middle of the action I get understandably distracted. I grasp the edges of my dress and find myself totally and completely entertained by the material! My old rags are replaced by a comfortable, short white dress that flows out in all directions so that when I spin it goes up like Marilyn Monroe. I wonder if he had given it to me, if he had dressed me, if he had seen me naked in all the dirt.
The laughter like wind chimes leaks into the atmosphere and I realize that it's him. I stop instantly and fall into the curtsy that I am so used to doing. With my right leg bent behind my left I wait as I hold onto the edges of my dress with my head bent downward because I can't meet his eyes again. There is no way I can manage to look into them again because I cannot grasp the power inside of them—no one can. But to my surprise I feel the strength of his hand that is so tender as it rests beneath my chin to guide my face up and my body along with it.
Oh, Death.
I can feel things bursting and crashing inside of my chest because I can't contain all the feelings inside of myself. I'm grateful, I'm afraid, I'm happy, I'm devastated and to top it off I'm confused. Confused by what has been done to me and even more confused by what his eyes continue to do to me.
His eyes.
I can remember them when I was dying, before I was dead and before I became what ever it is that I am now. He had asked me: Could you be a companion of Death? Could you walk with me through the world—through the dark? I could teach you all I know. I would be your father, your brother, your friend, your…lover. Every thought I had before is flooded out of my mind with a strange heat that makes my face go red. Without my control my hands leap up to my face to cover what has happened as a strange shiver flows through out of my body. A sharp aching in my gums pops in a way that cuts my hands but my focus isn't on my fingers.
Does he remember what he asked of me?
Does he remember that I said yes?
I lower my hands to see that I have small cuts the shape of holes. Before a trickle of blood can escape the air from my lungs is stripped from me as I watch the tiny holes disappear before my eyes. Nervously, I lift my hands to touch my mouth and there I find exactly what made the holes. I have fangs—sharp fangs that cause the aches. I don't understand.
"Death?" I question quietly as I focus upward on him and yet I am lost again; this time I am lost in my own voice. It's somehow better, stronger, much more beautiful than I recalled; it's so easy to speak, almost effortless.
"My name," his voice is like a magnet that awakens the blood inside of me so that my veins vibrate like the engine of a car just starting up, "is Godric."
The weight of his name is so heavy upon me that my legs give out and refuse to hold me up. But his arms capture me before I hit the ground. His strength is so consuming and the heat his body radiates reminds me of the cold, warm home I was in for so long. That place, I realize, was him holding me in that hole in the ground.
"Take a moment. Don't try to move," his voice is as gentle and as patient as I remember and I know I can't deny his command.
But I hadn't been aware that I had even tried to move.
Godric, his name is Godric. It's a wonderful name that is far better than Death.
The seconds trickle by and with each passing minute I find the vibrating vanishes so I can use my strength to get back onto my feet. My eyes glance up to show that I am ready but as I do I find that they begin to wander. They travel like tourists up the curve of his neck, to his chin, his lips, his nose, his eyes.
He pulls away suddenly and it's only then that I realize my eyes weren't alone; they were guiding my hands! I drop my hands so quickly in front of me and bow my head downward in submission because I know contact like that is punishable by beating. I quickly let out a desperate, "I'm sorry!"
But Godric doesn't hit me. Instead he replies, "Do not begin to apologize for your actions; if you do you will be apologizing all night. You will be consistently behaving in ways you never imagined. It is already to be expected."
Each word, each syllable sends a shiver through me that makes my knees go weak. I find it impossible to hold myself up and I wonder if this is what he means? What my body is doing? What's wrong with me? What have I become? I slump down but his arms are still around me so I only fall far enough for my head to rest on his chest. My face grows warm and I imagine he must hear my heart going crazy but strangely it doesn't. My heart isn't beating at all but neither is his. How can that be? How is that possible?
I open my mouth to ask but like a butterfly in a net my eyes get caught on something in the sky. My body moves away from him slightly so that I can raise my head to gaze at the sky in curiosity that quickly turns to awe. The sky has transformed into a velvet blanket of dark blue with holes poked through to reveal a beautiful shinning world hiding behind it. I'm so amazed by what is before me that I can't stop looking. The more I look though the more I see the stars are not holes and in fact are little balls of burning fire. Everything is so illuminated by these burning balls but it's not only the flaming orbs. There is no such thing as darkness anymore because I can see everything!
Everything: including the vehicle pulling into the cemetery.
With interest I turn my head but immediately catch the scent of lipstick wafting into the air. I recall how the men would make us wear the sick smelling material though this one doesn't smell so bad. It smells like brown sugar; it smells like a woman. My eyebrows furrow anxiously as I gaze at the vehicle pulling in because I'm sure Godric knows who it is that is coming. I look to him in search of an explanation but instead he says something quite different, "Are you ready to see your new kingdom?"
"My kingdom?" I repeat, completely blown away. I don't understand what he means. There's no such thing as kingdoms and I'm no princess. I don't know what he means.
"Yes," he nods with a little secret smile that is bashful like the young boy that had asked me to be his companion. He transforms his face in an attempt to be serious as he explains, "You are mine now. What belongs to me now belongs to you and what belongs to you now belongs to me."
"Really?"
I don't understand what this means and I don't understand how I feel about it. The thought of what he said: You are mine now. I am his. My first instinct is to blush as the blood flows through the apples of cheeks and even though I feel my stomach turn in a nice way my first thought goes to Nelson. The thought of him brings a sudden terror that jerks my insides so harshly I feel like I might fall down. The smell of earth and lavender surrounds me and when I open my eyes I realize that I have hidden myself against his chest, wrapping my arms around him in the form of an awkward hug. I'm filled with such embarrassment because he's not even hugging me back.
This continual moving without my control is too much for me; I just can't keep it up. I turn my head away as I begin to pull back but before I can completely leave his arms tighten and I am stuck in place. I pause my breathing as I try to figure out how to respond to what is going on around me. His arms slightly melt but he is still so stiff as if he has never been hugged before. A feeling of absolute sadness washes over me at the thought of him having never received a hug. I had gotten so many hugs before being stuck in that place but it seems to me that Godric has never been given one.
The sound of the engine cutting off fills the graveyard just as Godric's arms pull away. I look up with a frown—I had gotten used to the embrace—but hold back any response once I see that his face has become serious. He repeats, "Are you ready?"
I nod my head briefly as I complete the detachment of the hug, "I'm ready."
Godric steps away from the grave we had been standing against but I find myself frozen and unable to move. I feel like I am caught between the place I had just emerged from and wherever Godric wants me to go. I remember the hole in my cell and I remember looking out at the smiling faces of the girls while battling that instinct inside of me to just stay still. I'm panicked slightly, wishing I could pull them back inside of the basement with me so that we could figure out a better way to get out of there. But I'm still rigid in my place.
Just like Cally the soft hand of Godric meets my fingers and I feel an electric current zigzag through me as if I have been struck by lightning. I turn my face toward him nervously to see if he can feel it but surprisingly that thing keeping me still is gone. I'm free from the ties to the hole in the ground that had been my home for such a short time and somehow I find joy in that. Laughter begins to jump out of my throat, tickling my stomach and body so much that I can't stop myself from continuing to do it. My free hand rises to cover my mouth but once I have contact with my lips I feel the tickling all over again.
"What is so funny?" Godric's tone forces me to look up at him and I can see that his face is a mixture of uncertainty. There is the ghost of a smile like he wants to laugh too but there is fear there as if he's afraid that I'm laughing at him.
I shake my head to tell him that I'm not laughing at him as it subsides. I don't have a real answer for his question but at this point I'm not sure it really matters. I could tell him anything and there's no way he would know the truth from a lie and I suppose I have to decide how I want our relationship to unfold. Do I want to be a liar or to I want to be honest? I decide I want to be honest, "I feel free."
"You are free."
There is a purity in his voice that I understand and I choose to believe is real. I choose to believe that he is being honest and he is telling the truth because I can feel it inside of myself that he is. I'm not in that cell anymore. I'm not dying in the snow. I'm not even lying in that grave or connected to it. I'm standing on my own, holding Godric's hand in the middle of a cemetery on a beautiful night. I am different from how I was but I am free. I am free.
Godric begins to walk and I decide to follow with him but I find myself becoming addicted to the way that it feels. I'm not just walking; I'm gliding! It feels like I'm standing in place as the ground moves for me as if I'm on some giant conveyor belt that moves with my every desire. There is no amount of effort I have to exert in order to accomplish this action and I find myself curious as to what else I can do without any bother!
But obviously this is no time for that. As we get closer to the black SUV I can smell the brown sugar lipstick that suddenly becomes a cloud of poison I don't understand. Even though my heart isn't beating I can feel my blood pumping through me quicker and Godric dips his head low so that he can ask against my ear, "What is troubling you?"
I don't have an answer. I shake my head as I watch the woman step from around the other side of the vehicle to face us. She is tall—a little taller than Godric but much taller than me—and more than tall she is long. Her heels are high and sharp while her outfit is tight and black. She is so stunning I am transported back to the first time we had arrived at that place. There were so many girls then and they pushed us against the wall, forcing us to step over the dead bodies, and made us strip naked as they watched. From the group they grabbed the most beautiful of the women and pulled them inside where they lived in the nicer area with the other gorgeous girls.
"It is complete?"
She sounds so much like Benita that I can hardly hear Godric when he says, "Yes, Isabel. I-"
Bennie had been standing behind me in the line that we were all forced to walk in as we entered the place. She had been so different on that first day; she was neither feisty nor tough enough to say no. I remember the sound of her crying and shaking so hard as she tried to cover her body with her hands. I stopped short on the line and she bumped into me and suddenly she began to shriek. She grabbed onto me and wouldn't let me go as we tumbled to the ground and she screamed and screamed and screamed as the men tried to pry us apart and when they couldn't they began to hit us until I became loose. After that was when she had changed.
"Amie! What is the meaning of this?"
The last few seconds trickle in as I realize that I am pinned against Godric's chest with my back to him and a snarl toward the woman I assume to be Isabel. I had tried to attack her but with their quick thinking and movements they redirected my actions until I was subdued in his arms. There is so much bewilderment in their eyes and I'm positive I will be punished for this—how can I not? I want to open my mouth to explain to Godric what had happened but there is nothing that will come. I don't even know why I acted so viciously and I can't begin to try to figure it out.
"Answer me," he demands and the blood inside of me leaps at his command.
"She's alive and Benita isn't!" the words come out before I can plan them and suddenly I feel that hard knot in the center of my stomach snap open to release all kinds of venom into my body, "I'm alive and my sisters aren't."
It's then that Godric's hold on me releases completely until I'm free again and yet shackled in another way. My eyes find the ground once more because I can't bring myself to look between them. Allie had wondered what made me so special that the men would exempt me from going to bed with the others that had arrived. She wondered what was so different about me that they hardly laid a hand on my pale skin. The answer had always been nothing.
I'm just a speck of dust.
"I'm sorry for attacking you," I manage to let out in order to split the silence.
She opens the door to the back seat as she shakes her head, "Don't apologize. I was new once too. I remember I tore down an entire building with my bare hands."
"An entire building?" I question out loud.
She smiles as she repeats, "An entire building."
I feel Godric's hand at my back suddenly and I know it's to encourage me into the SUV. Without another move I enter the vehicle and scoot all the way to the other door where I can sit against the window. I find it strange that we are inside of a car when I feel like I could run around the globe without getting tired but I keep my comment to myself. The interior of the thing is cream but outlined in a red that looks like blood and makes me want to cringe. From the front seat Isabel offers Godric a glass bottle of red stuff but he shakes his head and she keeps it in the front instead.
The car comes to life but remains idle until Godric orders: "Take us home, Isabel."
She nods, "Yes, Sheriff."
Sheriff? I turn my head away from Isabel and the brown sugar smell to him but before I can ask my question his hand rests over mine and I'm stunned into silence. His eyes are out the window as if what he has done is no big deal but to me it feels huge. From the "hug" we shared in the cemetery it's clear that he isn't strong with affection but here he is with his unprovoked hand over mine while we drive as if he is comforting me.
And I do feel comforted.
I can remember one time that a guest had grabbed my hand when everything was quiet and had made me sit with him in the parlor on the red sofa. All the lights were off as we stared out at the darkest part of the night and I remember he had been crying though I couldn't see his face. He had turned it away from me as he held my hand and cried silent tears while I waited for it to be over. It was nice but it was nothing like this; this was done by kindness and not at all by force.
The SUV comes to a stop way before I realize we have driven out of the cemetery. I look out the window in an attempt to pinpoint where we are but so far all I can tell is that there is no snow and we are on a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood. The sound of the door opening catches my attention and I follow Godric out of the back seat and onto the sidewalk where they talk about something I can't understand. I'm easily the smallest between them but that doesn't bother me because I'm facing the kingdom Godric has promised me and I am in love.