Released
Charice looked up warily as the kind yet strange man returned from upstairs. He was wearing a blue button-down shirt and tan shorts, his hair changed from slicked back like an old movie actor to a more casual and messy style. He looked so clean0cut, not at all like someone who would Purge. Then again, she supposed he did that on purpose. He wore expensive suits and spoke eloquently, saying all the right things at the right time to get his way. "You put on an excellent show," Cherry said boldly as he stopped in front of her. "But I bet there are all kinds of dark secrets in that pretty head of yours."
In her stomach, something twisted. Like fireworks and flames exploding inside of her, spreading through her veins. Some might describe love that way, but she knew better. She was feeling the urge to paint, to draw, to etch this moment down on paper. This dark fear, this morbid obsession she was feeling could not be described. Even as Caleb spoke she knew she would have to understand her emotions before she could ask him anything. Seeming to shy away from her impertinent observation, Caleb smiled. "Is there anything I can get for you?" Since she was feeling brazen, Charice nodded. "Do you have a paper and pencil?" Her fingers tapped her leg nervously, her mind flashing with the image she so desperately wished to paint. It was dark, twisted, evil, and full of blood like nothing she had ever done, nor desired to do. Still, she did not shy from it. If anything, she wanted to see more.
Caleb nodded, seeming thoughtful. "Follow me." They walked down the hall to a sunroom with pale green walls and a few comfortable couches, along with bookshelves and a desk in the corner. "I work in here, there should be pencils and paper." He dug around for a moment. "Aha, here we go." He produced a blank piece of paper and a few different art pencils. Cherry took them, and Caleb seemed to notice her surprise. "I don't have much time to draw or anything, but I have art supplies. What are you using it for?" He sat on one of the couches, his arms spread across the back. "About your comment. I have a ton of secrets. One you already know, I Purge." he said it as if the act were a normal everyday occurrence. "Please don't tell anyone. I plan on becoming a member of government, and I doubt knowing I Purge will get me many votes " he smiled and shrugged, not seeming to notice his bandaged shoulder. "But seriously I am not a bad guy." He looked away, his eyebrows furrowed. "At least I don't think I am." Caleb was silent for a moment, seeming to debate his cruelty.
While he spoke, Charice folded herself onto the other sofa and sketched furiously. It was second nature to her; she drew so often that the pencil felt attached to her body. She responded to his comments in a soft voice, concentrating on her work. "I don't think you're that bad. You saved me. Nobody else would have. You said if you saw another Purger you would kill him. That implies you kill bad people, thereby making you slightly less bad." Caleb chuckled, and then surprised her with a question. "Could I try to draw you? I haven't drawn in forever, but it would be the second Mona Lisa when I finished." Cherry raised an eyebrow, still working. "Mona Lisa? I'm hardly Di Vinci worthy. "Then again, maybe Mona Lisa was more fascinating than we realize. Maybe Di Vinci met her on the street one night and jumped with her across the city rooftops. Maybe they both got shot or something and that's why she's not smiling." The image was funny, but Cherry was too focused to laugh.
It was quiet as Charice finished her sketch. She finished the piece in only a few minutes, faster than she had ever drawn in such detail. The drawing was a burning pyre, but instead of wood the fire was using a pile of furniture and items as fuel. Around the fire, Purgers danced in a circle. They leaped in the air and twisted like the smoke above them, while the stars glittered beyond it all. The whole scene took place in the middle of a city street. She hadn't ever drawn anything like that before, not once. Fire, sure; but it was always on a candle. Dancers, yes; but they were always on a stage. This image seemed insane to her. If her parents saw it she would be kicked out of the house. Satisfied, she put her pencil down.
Caleb's voice pierced her thoughts. "May I see?" He reached forward and took the sketch from her. His fingers brushed hers, and she shivered. As his gleaming eyes examined her finished work, he looked surprised. "This is wonderful. There's so much value…your art is amazing, Charice." It was the first time he'd used her name without saying "darling" or something similar. She still liked the way her name sounded in his mouth. "Thank you," she replied softly. "It's new for me. I don't draw things like that." Her adrenaline had crashed long ago, but she felt her heart beat fast every time she looked at him. He was terrifying in a mesmerizing way, like when you couldn't stop looking at the bloody scene in a horror film because it fascinated you. Caleb spoke again, pulling her away from her thoughts. "I would like to see more of your art. That is…if you wanted to meet again." Cherry felt her cheeks redden. "I think I would. I would like to see you."
She fell asleep on his couch, woken in the morning by the screaming sirens that announced the end of the violent night. Cherry would later find out it was one of the most active Purges since the founding of the event. Caleb gave her a ride to the hospital, but as she walked through the doors she glanced behind her and saw that the polite stranger was gone.
Caleb thought about the innocent young girl he had rescued. She had perfect curves, thick eyelashes and smooth rounded lips. Her eyes were bright and her smile was never over used, it was real, not fake. She was gorgeous. Of course he had to meet her on the Purge. It was the night he most cherished, an opportunity to cleanse himself and let go of his anger. Instead he had saved a girl he did not know, and he would probably never see again. As he parked his car in a hidden spot outside of the hospital, the pain pulsing in his shoulder forced the woman from his mind. It was just an accident- they would not meet again.