AN: I do not own VA or Twilight or any other book/TVshows/movies that I may or may not have referenced in this piece.
Chapter 9. What to do with the unwanted.
I just stood in the middle of that beautiful room balancing on one leg while Mikhail did up my laces. He pushed my foot off his knee and grabbed the other one. God, I feel like I'm two. But I let him do it. There was no way I could have done it myself and I'd rather them tied then having HIM swing off my arm catching me whenever I stumbled. No way in hell.
Just as he finished he looked up and asked, "When was the last time you ate something?"
Right on cue, my stomach grumbled. Great! I just loved showing weakness in front of people. Yeah. Go ahead make fun. I could just hear him trying to stifle a laugh or something.
So I just shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't know…. What day is it?"
I was serious, though. The last day I had eaten was the…. I couldn't think of that. I wouldn't. No.
He pushed my foot back to the ground and stood. He didn't have to say anything, I knew that I should follow. He steered us down another long corridor that branched off from the main lobby. There were a few other people coming and going through the same passage and again most of them were staring at us. No me.
I walked gruffly with my arms still folded. Where he hell was he taking me? We came to the end of the corridor where a set of double frosted glass doors sat. He pressed though them and I followed but not before I saw another guy behind me just standing there staring at me.
"Why the hell do people keep staring at me? What? Am I the new sideshow in this freak house?" I said loudly as I stepped through still looking behind me.
Crap! More stares.
He had led me to some sort of cafeteria place, only more posh. With at least a hundred people all sitting around eating. They had all stopped mid conversation and looked. Great.
I was so sulking, now. I knew it and Mikhail knew it. He just shook his head. He showed the way to an empty four seater table and said, "Sit!" in a gruff voice. So I did and he left to do something.
I was conscious of a whole lot of people still staring at me. I tried to ignore them but I could feel their eyes boring into me the same way they had in the other room and I could feel the deep red blush sprawling across my face. I just sat there with my arms still crossed, sinking as far down into the chair as I could, staring at the wooden pattern on the table.
I looked up when Mikhail placed a round white plate in front of me. He had got me a sandwich. I rolled my eyes. So chivalry wasn't dead. He was also carrying a glass of milk. He sat in the seat directly opposite from me placing the glass of milk in front of him. I watched him as he pulled out a small white sachet. He tore off the top and poured a fine powder into the glass stirring it with a long spoon. It turned pink.
He pushed it towards me. "Here drink this. Its good for you."
I just stared at it sceptically just as I had eyed the sandwich.
"Eat!" He commanded.
I wrinkled my nose at him. Better do what he said, he might jump on me, hold me down and force feed me. I picked the top slice of bread off to see what was on it.
"P, B and J? What the Hell? What am I, Ten?" I scowled pushing the plate away from me.
"Well if you aren't going to eat the sandwich, at least drink the milk." he sighed.
"No way! I totally saw you put something in there. Probably trying to drug me again or something." I said a little too loud which cause more stares.
He sighed again, tossing me the empty packet. It was in Russian. I scowled. "It's a protein shake. Its got vitamins and minerals in it. To help you heal faster."
I started reading the ingredients out, "Sugar, glaucous, Calcium, Iron, Manganese, Sodium phosphate…" and a bunch of others. Seemed legit. He was staring at me again.
I took a small sip. It didn't taste half bad, like strawberry flavoured milk. But there was no way I was going to admit that so I put on a fake sour look.
He started to say something but I interrupted him, "Why do people keep staring at me?"
But it wasn't him that answered me. It was a woman. "They're just curious to see the girl who beat the snot out of a spoiled Moroi prince and then demanded to see the queen." She said as she sat in the vacant chair between Mikhail and me and started eating what looked to be a salad. She was the one that had bear hugged me at the front gate.
She was kind of pretty. Like maybe she had once been beautiful but had spent way too much time in the elements. She had short spiky brown hair. Which I had noticed was some sort of trend with the women in this place. And green eyes.
Wait! What? I never asked to see the queen. What queen? I stared at her, "No I didn't. I mean I smacked that stupid jerk for being a stupid jerk but I never asked to see a queen. I don't even know a queen. Except the one in England." I paused, that didn't make sense. "Wait, she's not here, is she?"
I must have had a serious look on my face because they both laughed at me and I felt that stupid glow brush over my face again. I snatched the glass from the table, slumped back into the chair and started sipping at it again.
After a few minutes Mikhail got up and took my uneaten sandwich back to the counter.
The woman turned to me. "So, my name's Amanda. You are?" she paused waiting for my response.
I ignored the question staring at the wall just behind her head. She turned to look at Mikhail who was making his way back to the table. I was distracted. On the back of her exposed neck were four little crossed lightening strikes and a squiggly line. I stared at them. They reminded me of the same ones that my mother hid behind her long hair. She had told me what they were called once. Gopher marks or something like that.
"Don't worry about her, she wont tell anyone her name. But we know it's Dominica." Mikhail answered the question for me.
She must have been ready to shoot me another question but I interrupted her, "What are those thingy's on the back of your neck." I asked curiously. "I mean I know what they are. Mole somethings, but what do they mean?"
I had asked my mother the exact question when I was about 8. She just replied that they were her molnija marks. Nothing more.
She looked slightly caught off guard. Mikhail had a scrutinising look on his face like he was trying to guess what I was thinking.
"Well," She replied slowly, " Each symbol has a different meaning. The ones I have are the most common among the guardians. The crossed lightening bolts. They mean that I have killed a Strigoi. I have four molnija marks, which means I have killed four Strigoi." She now had this look on her face like she though I was dumb or something.
I snorted into my milk.
"What?" She said now looking slightly annoyed.
"Only four?" I said sarcastically.
Whoa she looked pissed. "Have you even seen a Strigoi?" She replied with venom. But then stopped with a apologetic look on her face.
I didn't say a word. Yeah more then you'll ever know. I just took another sip of the milk. We sat in silence for a few minutes.
"So what dose the squiggly one at the top of your neck mean?" I asked still curious.
She must have seen my general interest and explained further. "The 'squiggle' mark" she even used air quotation marks, "is a promise mark. It signifies that you are a guardian. Every one gets them when they graduate and get their first assignment." She seemed satisfied with her answer.
"Can you get the mole marks before you get the squiggle mark?"
She gave me a look like she wasn't sure and she then glanced to Mikhail. "It is possible," he answered, "but highly unlikely."
Humm. My mother didn't have the squiggle promise mark thingy. But she did have two of those lightening ones and a little star one, too. She never let them show. Always keeping her hair tied low or out over her shoulders.
"What do the little star ones mean?" I asked again.
They both looked at me, Amanda with her mouth slightly agape. "Where did you see that one?" Mikhail asked.
Oh crap, I said too much, "Never mind." I mumbled. I picked up the glass and chugged the remaining milk. I was hungry. But I doubt they wouldn't notice if I went up to the counter and asked for a pint of blood. Back to the white padded cell for Demi, I thought.
"You done?" Mikhail asked nodding in my direction.
"Yeah, I suppose I am." I replied placing the glass down.
He jerked up in a swift move. Nodded to Amanda, "Guardian Palmer."
"Guardian Tully," she replied.
Must be some freaky guardian thing. I eased myself up out of the chair and we were off again.
__________________________________________________________________________________
We walked for what seemed forever and I was getting a little tired. Technically I hadn't had any sleep that wasn't drug induced for a long while. Hell, I didn't even know what day it actually was. We ended up in a small office. It was dark and dimly lit. The furniture and décor wasn't as opulent as the other places Mikhail and I had walked through, but it had its charm.
He shot me a don't-follow-me look and said "Sit," as he gestured to the tan coloured couch furtherest from the reception desk. He really needed to work on his vocabulary or at least his bedside manor.
I decided to stand. It wasn't like he was watching and I was interested in the photos on the wall. There was a long line of photos progressing through, what I thought was, time. Each one getting slightly older and the fashion getting more and more old school as they went along the wall. In all of them there was either a man or a woman or sometimes both sitting all regal and proper posing for the camera.
I stood there for a while taking each one in individually and then the group as a whole. It was impressive. There must have been about twenty of them and the older ones towards the end were not photographs but miniature painted portraits.
"Lets go," His voice caught me off guard. It had a slightly irritated ring to it.
After more walking he led me to another room. It was up several flights of stairs and the way we went reminded me of the rabbit wren design that hotels and motels sometimes had.
He gestured me into the room first with a wave of his hand. The room itself was sparsely furnished. With only a double bed, a chest of draws, a bare wooden table with matching chairs and an old brown sofa. There was one window at the far end of the room. It was almost exactly like a motel room and I had been in plenty of them to tell.
I must have been too busy examining the room to notice that Mikhail didn't follow me into the room. I turned around to see him closing the door on me. I rushed over and grabbed the door handle only to hear it locking from the other side.
"HEY!" I yelled as I banged my fist on the door. "What the Hell?!" I could barely make out his footsteps as they walked away from the room. I kept twisting the doorknob somehow wishing that it would give out. But it didn't and I gave up on it. I turned my attentions to the window at the far end of the room. It had heavy dark blue drapes that easily pulled back and forth. I pulled at the window straining my self in the process.
It wouldn't budge. I investigated it closer. The whole widow pane was bolted to the frame with screws. Grr.
Impossible.
I paced the room. Back and forth. Back and forth. I hated being idle, with nothing to do, it was worse being stuck doing something that you hated doing. Least then you could concentrate on getting the task done. Here, I had no idea when Mikhail was coming back or even if he was coming back. If they didn't think that I was crazy before just leave me here in this room for a couple hours and see what I'm like then.
I could feel the tension rolling off me. I was getting anxious. I could be out looking for my mother instead of being stuck here.
Okey. Okey, calm down, Demi. Just think. Okey lets go though the numbers of pi.
Three point one four one five nine two six five three eight nine seven…..
Okey that helped, Not! Breath. Remember back to you yoga lessons. What had the instructor said? What I should do if I was ever anxious like this. 'Fix you eyes onto a candle or something of the equivalent.' Okey, I don't have any candles, that's not helping.
I hurried over to the draws, rummaging through the top one to find something to distract me. There were mostly just clothes in them. I pulled out the next draw More clothes. And the next one. Again more clothes. I pulled he bottom one out. No clothes. It was almost empty except for a book with handwritten notes in it and a ratty looking brown bear.
I picked up the bear. Taking it and sitting on the bed. It looked like a child's bear. Loved and well worn with easily identifiable patch jobs all over it and bald patches in the fur. It had a small silver chain tightly wrapped around its neck. And a black ribbon with a bronze key on it. Wonder what that was for.
I had to try, right? I got off the bed and went to the locked door. Nope. Wishful thinking. Damn.
I plonked back down onto the bed. Lying on my back with my feet still planted on the floor. My side didn't hurt as much as before just a dull ache, again.
I held the bear up above my head. Twirling it around making it dance through the air.
And just like that, one minute I was pacing the room desperately searching for something to distract me and the next I had Mikhail looming over me with a furious look on his face.
He grabbed the bear from my grasp. "Didn't you hear me calling you?" he said in a biting tone.
I looked up at him and shrugged. "Nope," I said reaching for the bear. He pushed my hand away and walked to the dresser shoving clothes back in and the bear into the bottom draw.
"What happened here?" He eyes me questioningly
"I needed to distract myself." I answered truthfully.
"By going through someone else's things."
I held my hands up defensively. "Its not like you told me not to." I protested.
"Well maybe you should just think, next time." He said quietly his tone taking on a bitter quality.
"You at least need to get some sleep." he said finally after a few minutes of silence.
I shrugged again, "It might be dark outside because of the stupid rain but the suns just started coming up, It's day time out there." I nodded towards the window.
"We run on a nocturnal schedule here." He with a sigh.
"What, like bats?" I said wrinkling my nose. My mother had explained that part to me, about how the Moroi had an intolerance to sunlight and that all places that accommodated them ran on a night timetable. I just said it to see the amused expression on Mikhail's face.
"You really should get some sleep. You can sleep in those," he said pointing to a fresh bundle of clothes sitting on the table.
"What about you? Do you sleep?" I asked harshly.
"I'm on duty." Was all he said.
He started to leave. "Wait? Your going?" Great he was leaving me alone, again. I tried to suppress a groan. Even if it was HIM at least I had company. But no. He was leaving me alone. Again.
"I'm still on duty." He informed me.
"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?" I grumbled.
"Sleep!" he said it in that commanding type voice that he had used earlier in the day.
I looked down at the bed playing with the bed covers and then back at him, "But…" I didn't finish. What could I say? Yeah I'll close my eyes but sleep is never going to hit me. Every time I shut my eyes all I can see is my blood soaked hands and Ben's little sister Cassie, all twisted and mutilated. Yeah sure.
He just gave me a sympathetic look before turning to leave. Damn it! Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut.
"At least try to, okey?" He said in a low voice without turning to meet my eyes.
"Okey," I mumbled.
He turned and left.
How the hell did he do that? I was mad at him for locking me in and then… then. Then, god, I don't know.
I hummed tunelessly to myself.
I am restless and I keep trembling.
Everyone watch me as I descend.
Into a feeling that's overwhelming me
I've finally stopped. Stopped making sense.
I can't stop talking to myself.
I'm a desperate cry for help.
Run, don't walk. The sky is falling, through.
Don't talk tonight. I'm so confused.
I'm lost. I'm lost with you.
I don't care. Where we are.
Or where we're headed to.
But I know I'm lost.
I'm lost with you. With you.
I missed my mother.
Images of the last time I saw her, ran through my head. She had smiled at me but she wasn't happy. Far from it. Though, I lacked the necessary social skills to interact effectually with others, I knew my mother. I knew she was hiding something from me. It was in her eyes. They were so sad.
My head spun. She knew!
She had known she wasn't coming back this time. I gripped the sides of my head.
Why?
What was she doing? Why would she leave? I whimpered. But refused to let tears fall. I lay on my side crossing my arms and letting my nails dig into the soft flesh under them. I curled my knees up. I couldn't think. I closed my eyes.
I was on a beach. No, it was my beach. I scanned around looking for the dark haired stranger that I knew wouldn't be far. But no, the beach was empty. I walked slowly along the waters edge grateful that nothing was chasing me or yelling or trying to bite me. It was peaceful. The shoreline and the countryside gently melding together in the distance. Kind of like you would find on a postcard, signs inviting all to sail, water ski or to hike along the trails. The water's calling to me, asking me to swim in its crystal clearness, but there's no time for a swim. It isn't why I'm here. I felt a sense of urgency, but for what I could not fathom.
A beach house looms just down the beach. Funny, I've never seen that in my dream before. Though, I never remember going this far down the beach before either.
I entered, slowly walking around. Lifting different objects and placing them back down. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust. Like no one had been in this place for a long time.
The bedroom, the only other room, I paused taking in a gasp of air. Three skeletons, long dead, a couple tucked in the bed together, and at the foot of the bed; the bones of their faithful dog.
Was the dog unable to fend for herself or just unwilling? Was she trapped inside? Did they let her go? Did she have no place to go? When her masters stopped talking and moving, did she simply lie down and wait for them?
I could have cried - even my dreams are abandoning me now - how sad am I.
Was I that dog? Was I unwilling to leave my mothers side? Would I do the same, just lay down and wait? Something in my mind gave way to a thought that I was never going to see my mother again. She was lost to me.
A sob escaped my lips, I didn't want to see this anymore. I turned to leave the room, but I was caught in strong arms. My dark haired stranger. Minus the nose itching cigarette smoke.
His arms circled around me, holding me to his chest. "Your not alone, sweetheart." He whispers to me.
We stood like this for what seemed like an eternity. Him brushing his fingers through my hair, crooning to me, "It's going to be okey. Your alright." It was comforting, Like a father comforting his child. I just held close to him, sobbing into his shirt.
But all too soon I felt a tug around my waist, like someone had lassoed me and was now reeling me in. My dream shimmered and the beach house, along with my dark haired stranger, disappearing into darkness.
