Chapter 3
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I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, desperately afraid.
"Alice … please …" I heard him say.
Flickers of images came to my mind, but they were too fast for me to comprehend. I smiled wryly as I noted that some were of me running straight out the door.
No, I couldn't do that.
I turned to face him, and I felt calm flood me again. "That'll get annoying," I muttered.
"What?" he asked, too innocently, but there was a laughing light in his eyes.
I glared at him, but decided to let it drop for now. "Nothing," I said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, feeling my heart race erratically as I tried to prepare.
"Alice, I promise. Nothing you say could ever make me want to leave you." He pulled me closer. "But if you don't want to …"
"I do," I said quickly. I swallowed and looked at him, and something in his expression made the words tumble out of my mouth, eager for release. "I was born in Mississippi. I had a mother, father, and two sisters." I searched for words. "And … I always knew that I was … different."
I paused. "Different," he repeated, curious. Waiting.
How could I explain? "I could tell when things were going to happen," I said slowly, no better explanation for the phenomenon coming to my mind. "It was never a big deal – all my family really knew was that I had an uncanny ability to predict the weather." I smiled grimly. "Then the day my sister drowned, I saw it. I remember … I screamed for an hour, begging her not to go down to the river, throwing the house into an uproar with my tantrum. But she still went." A tear rolled down my cheek as I remembered, but the words were coming easily now. It was such a catharsis to let go, and I felt safe in his arms as I spoke. "My father came back an hour later with her white and cold in her arms. We were poor, and times were hard. My parents weren't getting along. So this was the last straw. They blamed me because they didn't want to take the blame themselves. So they sent me away to …" I hesitated, hating the word. "An asylum."
I heard an intake of breath, and looked into his eyes fearfully. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I knew you wouldn't want to hear this."
"Is that why …" he whispered, and his fingers roughly entwined in my spiky hair.
I shrugged. "They cut it off."
I noticed his hands were trembling. "What else did they do to you there?" he hissed, his eyes fierce.
"The usual," I said, trying to be casual. I thought of the sterile white rooms, of the shocks and bottles and syringes. No, I would never tell him. I took a deep breath, trying to be calm. "I'm fine, Jasper. I ... really. All the while, I knew I wasn't crazy. No one believed me, though. Except for one worker." I smiled, remembering him. "He helped me escape."
He touched the crook of my arm, where a tiny scar was still there, making my skin burn with heat. "IV?"
I looked up at him, and felt a jolt as his eyes met mine. "We all will have our scars, Jasper," I whispered, and traced the white lines on his hand. They were as numerous as the stars in the sky, and just as beautiful, in a wild, savage way. Somehow, they suited him.
He was silent for a moment, watching me carefully. Then he chuckled wryly. "You're not running."
"Of course not. You aren't, either."
He smiled. "But didn't you know that in advance?"
We laughed together quietly. I weak with relief that he could refer to my visions in such a casual way. He didn't think I was a freak.
Then we both fell silent, and the crackling of the fire seemed to grow louder. When I turned to look at him, his eyes smoldered as dark as the night. I felt my heart accelerate, and all of a sudden I couldn't breathe as he widened them, silently asking permission as he cupped my jaw. Nodding fervently, I closed my eyes.
When he pressed his lips to mine, the last thing that registered with me was the furious crashing of the waves outside. The raging destruction that lay so horrifyingly near.
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Author's Note: Please review - the encouragement means a lot to me! More will be posted soon! Thanks :)
