**Sorry that this chapter is late, but I made up for it by making it longer than usual. I hope you guys don't mind.**

Chapter 10

I should have felt mad about having to leave my home. Leave the memories I had made in that house. Leave the stained curtain and the loud fridge and the picture I drew in second grade that was stuck on the kitchen pantry. I should've felt broken. I should've felt demolished after the death of my mother.

But I wasn't.

Just numb.

I started to think that I was going crazy. I habitually maintained my routine and came downstairs every morning before taking a shower. It was weird. She was really gone. And maybe, in the back of my mind, I was trying to deny that by retaining every other pattern in my life.

The problem was that I was too smart to negate that denial was only the first part of the grieving process. I couldn't ignore it forever.

But I damn well tried.

.

My bedroom was on the second floor, the furthest from the stairs and contingent to Alex's bedroom. It was inside the rotunda, so the back half of my room was shaped in a semi-circle. The back wall was covered from the floor to the ceiling with rectangular windows, each blanketed with gossamer white curtains. The white walls were convolutedly layered with golden vines near the bottom and riddled with classic paintings, including Caravaggio's Calling of Saint Matthew and Botticelli's Birth of Venus.

The beige carpet blended well with the various shades of blue in the loveseat. There was a carved wooden table next to the seat that held a crystalline lamp and a small pot of pink and white Sweet Williams. The dresser, which was taller than me, was intricately carved with depictions of flowers and arabesque designs. A chandelier that matched the sparkling ones throughout the rest of the house dangled from the center of the room with bars strung together by pearls and seemingly thousands of miniature candles.

There was an impressive king bed that could comfortably sleep five people and sat below a lacy, light blue canopy. The bed skirt was royal blue, which contrasted with the puffy, powder blue comforter. The pillows were made of a thick blue fabric and the edges were lined with golden images of the 'fleur de lis.' I tossed the tens of decorative pillows haphazardly onto the flamboyantly styled rug, embarrassed and appalled by how much the Pierce's were spoiling me.

The color scheme was not distinctly royal, like I was some German duke who had never heard the word "modest." Instead, this room had the air of a flighty yet mature and polished princess who only used this room to dress herself and have secret escapes with her male servant lover.

The day after I arrived at Alex's house, we returned to mine to gather my belongings. The house was dark and cold, but I failed to become emotionally detached. I still found myself crying as we closed and locked the door behind us, earning Alex's sympathy. He hugged me once more, but the gentle embrace had lost its impact. It made me feel even more separated from the life I had once lived, and even more afraid of this unfamiliar life that lay before me.

Alma and I collaborated each night for dinner. After that, the family would gather for whatever dessert we had prepared while Charles cleaned up. My first day staying with Alex, I had tried to assist Charles in cleaning up the dishes, but he had practically shoved me away and completed his work alone. I was barred from doing any housework. In the Pierces' minds, I was a guest, not family. I knew that their actions were out of generosity and consideration of my situation, but instead of helping me assimilate, it made me feel even more distant.

One Saturday morning, I set my alarm to six to ensure that I was the first one awake. I stretched my limbs while sitting on my unbelievably soft bed, enjoying the stark silence inside the house and the twinkling lights of the chandelier. The sun had barely risen and the birds were enthusiastically chirping outside my windows. I crawled to the edge of the bed, wrapped Alma's hand-me-down robe around my crappy pajamas, and put on my abnormally large red glasses. Alex told me that, when I wore them, I looked like a hipster. I thought that I looked like a middle-aged woman who bought glasses to match her favorite pair of half-inch heels.

I did normal things like brush my teeth, wet my crazy curly hair, and put on some outfit that included a bra. I ran down the stairs as quietly as humanly possible, hoping to catch everyone by surprise by preparing a grand breakfast. I knew where Alma kept the eggs, turkey bacon, pancake mix, and sausage links.

The kitchen was as elegant as the rest of the house and maintained the color scheme of white, black, gold, rich red, and deep purple. The two ovens were engrained into a brick wall, but the other walls were off-white and connected with bulky white columns. The design was very organic, with leaves and vines strung around the sides of counters, the tops of cabinets, and the chains that suspended the overhead lights. The countertops were made of black and white marble. The island had enough space for four carved stools and a golden bowl filled with sweet-smelling potpourri. All of their machines were sleek and new. I had just figured out how to operate the stove about a week before. I was clamoring around on the wooden floor to gather materials, but there was no indication that I had woke anyone up.

Making breakfast was the least I could do to repay the Pierces, but it was nowhere close to cutting even.

Maybe Alma will soon be in need of a kidney. Or a blood transfusion. Are we the same blood type? No, that's ridiculous. Maybe I could sell my old house and give her the money. That might be too much—

"Silvie? What are you doing up this early?"

I dropped a piece of bacon back into the pan and was splashed by hot grease. I winced. My plan was blown. "I was…was—ow—planning to surprise you guys."

Alex smirked as I wrung out my hand, hoping that the stinging sensation would disappear. He wore a black robe, but his blue sweats stuck out from the bottom. His hair was reminiscent of a bird's nest and he wasn't wearing his glasses. His eyes were red with sleep and I could tell that he was using a lot of energy just to stand up straight. Even with his messy face and shirt sliding down his shoulder, he still looked more presentable than me. I faced the bacon once again, pouting. "Anyway, what are you doing up so early? Saturday cartoons?"

He rolled his dark eyes and took a seat in one of the thin wooden stools. "You're not as stealthy as you thought. I heard those ogre footsteps of yours from my bedroom."

"No way."

"Well, yeah. That actually was a lie."

I grinned and turned off the burner, suddenly very curious. "Well, what's up?"

I heard him pick up a dried flower from the bowl of potpourri and slowly crush it between his fingers. The bacon was still sparking and jumping from the heat, so I quickly dumped it onto a golden plate. I brought the plate to the island and began munching on a piece, probably looking like a dirty rabid dog.

"I was actually planning to surprise you." He admitted, grabbing some bacon between his slender fingers.

"Were you now?" My words were muffled because my mouth was full, but I didn't find it necessary to repeat myself.

He nodded. "I was gonna ask you if you wanted to have, like, a picnic or something for breakfast. But you were a step ahead of me." He engulfed an entire piece of bacon, then choked for a second as it traveled slowly down his throat. I laughed, unsure why his clumsiness was so charming.

I fell into the stool next to him, "We could do lunch. I mean, I have no plans today."

"You never have plans."

"Then, of course I'm free!"

His smile was so bright that I couldn't look directly at him. Alex and I had only communicated with tense sentences and nods when I first moved in, but our relationship was slowly returning to normal. I hadn't forgotten about our near-kiss on the night of the dance, but the memory of what happened to my mom overrode any pleasant memories of that night.

We made plans to eat in Portsmouth City Park at 1:00, but as I made our food, I thought of my mother. How her death had changed my life irrevocably. How this change only reinforced my belief that getting involved with people was more trouble than it was worth.

With all of these depressing thoughts swirling around my head, Alex was probably the only person who could keep me sane.

.

The sun beat down in a wave on that afternoon in late March, so the park was packed, as we had anticipated. There were elderly people sitting on benches, feeding birds and nagging young passersby. There were people stinking up the tennis courts while their friends laughed mockingly at them. There were couples feeding each other treats on brightly colored blankets and literally emanating hormones.

When I had first moved in, Alma had insisted on taking me shopping, so half of my wardrobe was completely new. I decided to wear a few new garments on this…whatever it was. I wore a collared, quarter-sleeve shirt that was dimly purple. I covered it with a white denim vest that I could barely button over my bust. I matched this ensemble with light blue skinny jeans, which were held up by a braided brown belt and finished with dark brown boots with a small heel. Alex had let me borrow his blue hoodie, since the weather called for temperatures in the low to mid-50s. This outfit was too feminine for my tastes, but couldn't necessarily say that I stood out among the other park attendees.

Alex, wearing a white and black striped t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a thick black belt, held my hand from when we exited his car until we were in one of the fields in the park. I brought out the blanket from the hall closet and the lunch that I made, but Alex stopped me before I set everything up. "I think I know a more badass place for us to eat." He said with an odd smile on his face.

I trusted him, even as he led me far past the benches, man-made ponds, and designated camping areas. The park was the valley between rolling hills and a river, so I was concerned when we headed further toward the hills and the tree line. "Where exactly are we going?" I asked as he pulled me along by my fingers. I debated with myself as to whether or not I enjoyed that.

The sun shone just right on his glasses so that I couldn't see his eyes. "Some place I found a few years ago. I think you'll really like it."

"You think?"

"I know."

This kind of confidence was rare from him, so I trusted him, even though the wicker basket full of food grew heavier and heavier each yard that we stalked away from the park. As the trees grew bigger and closer, I thought of the lovers from A Midsummer Night's Dream who had run into the woods to have a secret rendezvous. God, that was such a horrid play.

Suddenly, what I thought was a complete canopy of trees opened to a horizon. Over the peak of the largest hill, there was a gigantic field of flowers. I had never seen so many in the same vicinity, especially not anywhere near our poorly funded city park. Daffodils, sunflowers, chrysanthemums, snow drops, and goldenrod poked out from supple green grass. But…that didn't make any sense. There were flowers in the same place that were all supposed to bloom in different seasons. Were they genetically engineered or something?

Even though there was such a wide variety, fox gloves dominated. These beautiful cupped flowers bathed the field in shades of pink and purple. Fox glove are poisonous, but I found myself mindlessly being drawn toward them. The field stretched for miles and the mountains of flowers were almost as tall as the trees. The flowers disappeared over the next hill and the field was half a mile wide the edges lined with fresh green trees. What kind of place was this where the trees were already so lush and green at the end of March? There was a gentle breeze from downhill, blowing my vest up and making the trees bend and sway. It seemed more natural than being simply blown; like they were really moving.

The only noise was the howling of wind and the rustling of leaves. The sun shined brighter here. There were no clouds in the sky. The air was clearer, fresher, like we were in some biosphere that had never been touched by pollution. We were surrounded by the calm, warm embrace of nature; there were no animals of which to speak, even though I had been hearing chirping birds all day. I had never seen such a wondrous place before. How had Alex found it?

Alex grinned at me and I blushed when my nerves once again recognized that we were holding hands. He intended for us to have a picnic here? People had been proposed to in places less fancy than this! I gripped the wicker basket nervously, trying to hold off a pounding heart by occupying my mind with thoughts like: What are his intentions? How are we supposed to eat in a place with flowers taller than us?

After graciously taking my hand, Alex led me down the hill at full speed. We laughed as we tumbled and tripped down the grassy slope, which was much steeper than I had originally thought. We crashed into a budding foxglove, then erupted into the maze of flowers. He kept a firm grip on my hand, which I was grateful for. I may have been a genius, but I had a pathetic sense of direction. We skimmed through the field, brushing against soft stems and waxy flowers. Whenever we passed through and it seemed as though the flowers would slam into our faces, they would part, as if moving away on their own. Like they were creating a path for us. I was surrounded by the scent of freshness, nature, and something sweeter.

The sun was not blinding, but radiant. The field was endless.

I was in heaven.

"So, do you like it here?" Alex asked, peering back at me as we skipped through the field.

"Are you kidding? I love it!" I responded, deciding to leave all of the questions I had accumulated for later.

"Do you wanna head for the trees?" He was already leaning to the left, heading for the dark curtain of evergreens.

"Can we eat in there?"

"Of course!"

"Then, what are we waiting for?!" I replied, enthusiastic and breathless. Because I ate well, I wasn't overweight, but I had always cringed at the thought of exercise. I wasn't good at anything physical. The epitome of a nerd.

The curtain of trees was pulled before us, leading us to a stage of wet mulch and smoothed rocks, all encased by trees the size of skyscrapers. It was a rainforest of deciduous trees and the spaces between branches and leaves allowed in speckled sunlight. The trees had types of roots I had never seen before. Some stuck straight out of the ground, like stalagmites, while others wrapped around tree trunks like vines. They weaved together above and below the ground to connect the roots, as if they were on the same network. Like they were all an extension of the same tree.

I could finally hear the chirping of birds but they were calls that I had never heard before. They followed the wind current that was blocked by the magnificent trees. Fortunately, there was a gap between trees that allowed in the gusts. It circled around the clearing, swirling my hair into delicate tendrils that were even messier and curlier than usual. The wind itself was a creature, prancing around and making sweet music.

Alex took the blanket from my basket and flapped it around until it settled on the ground. I placed the picnic basket down and tore off the jacket that Alex had loaned me. I had been in such a state of euphoria that I hadn't realized how hot it had become. It was barely 40 degrees a few minutes ago! Alex sat cross-legged while I sat on my feet, undoing the bow that I had wrapped around the basket. I began removing items: Caesar salad in plastic Tupperware, chocolate-covered strawberries, mini turkey and cheese sandwiches on yeast rolls, tuna salad, two apples, two Mountain Dews, and a package of plastic utensils on top of plastic plates.

"What is your order, monsieur?" I asked Alex in possibly the worst French accent of all time.

He grabbed my hand, then placed it tenderly and dramatically upon his chest, "I would love to have you, mademoiselle."

"Oh, monsieur!"

I dished him out some tuna salad onto a plate, then dug out a turkey sandwich and placed it on top. He wouldn't eat salad, so that was all mine. After dropping a spoonful of salad, spilling the package of utensils while scurrying for a fork, and losing half of my Mountain Dew to the grass when it exploded, we finally began eating.

Alex and I liked to talk when we ate, so he kept me occupied with gossip which, even though I never spread, I thought was intriguing. We discussed classes and I tried for about fifteen minutes to explain exponentials to him until I realized that the blank look on his face was never going to change. We actually spent ten minutes trying to brainstorm the lyrics to that 'Troublemaker' song. There were a lot of quirky jokes and awkward laughing.

For the hour or however long Alex amused me here, I had forgotten about everything that had made me so depressed during the previous few weeks. Whenever I was with him, I felt fantastic. As if a spell had been cast upon me. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so happy.

"How can you not like chocolate-covered strawberries?" I whined while taking a bite of said juicy delicacy.

He shrugged, "I've never really liked chocolate."

"You're inhuman!" I pointed another strawberry at him judgmentally before engulfing it.

He laughed awkwardly, but made no other stake in the argument.

"You know, for such a picky eater, I'm surprised that you let me make our lunch." I raised my eyebrow wondering if he had heard me even though my mouth was full. I pushed my curly hair behind my shoulder as I took another bite.

He ran his hand along a bushel of grass, meticulously picking out individual pieces with his fingers. "It's not my fault that I have standards. My mom's a chef, for God's sake."

"Yet, you still volunteer to taste her experimental dishes?"

"You gotta give some to get some. It's to repay her."

"For making lobster every Thursday night?" I joked, knowing that he wouldn't like another one of my rich boy jokes. Now that I thought about it, it was possible that he hadn't found this part of the park, but his mom had in fact bought it. Wait. Why am I ruining the moment? Why can't I be more quixotic?

He scoffed, looking almost royal as he brushed away his thick black hair. The breeze was soft, but relentless. "My dear lady, you know that Friday nights are for lobster. Thursday nights are dedicated to Asian cuisine."

I rolled my eyes and found myself looking at a bush that was literally orange. Were we inside of a Dr. Seuss book? "Whatever, your highness. But honestly, all of this stuff was, like, ridiculously easy to make. Why couldn't you do it? Or do you see me as just a lowly servant?"

He grinned, but I could undoubtedly tell that it was a façade to mask a darker, gloomier emotion. The howling in the trees seemed to grow louder, more crisp, like the crescendo of dramatic music right before a movie's climax.

"What?" I leaned in and softened my tone.

He faced the tree canopy and the light speckled across his face, making him look like a Renoir painting. "Well, you like to cook, right? I…knew that it would make you happy, and you need some cheering up."

Our silence was encircled with the tweeting of birds and the sounds of small creatures bustling through the grass. I was sure that my face was bright red, but looked downward anyway, just in case he hadn't noticed. Did he know how adorable that was? Who gave him the right to say something so precious? That damn face of his. He had been starting to affect me more than usual lately.

His plan had certainly worked. After everything that had happened in the past month, I needed some positive reinforcement. Being in a marvelous garden with a great meal and a great guy: I would have had to be insane to not be overjoyed.

A rustling in the bushes brought my mind back down to Earth.

Both of our heads swiveled toward a neon green bush only ten feet away. We had definitely heard movement, but it had sounded larger than a squirrel. I climbed to my feet, preparing to chase the animal away, but Alex rushed to stop me. His held a plate in one of his large hands and my left shoulder in the other.

"Wait!" He exclaimed with a broken voice and worried eyes. "I'll take care of it. Stay. Here. Don't move until I come back." With that caveat, he let go of my shoulder and leapt into the woods, dropping his half-filled plate of food and leaving me extremely troubled.

Two minutes had passed before I decided to down another turkey sandwich.

Five minutes had passed before I pulled up a patch of grass in the shape of heart.

Ten minutes had passed before I played a whole five games of Temple Run on my phone.

Twenty minutes had passed before I began to grow severely concerned.

Not only had the rustling stopped, but so did the chirping of birds. Even the wind had stopped. The whole world was at a peaceful but eerie standstill. I hadn't heard Alex. He hadn't called out to me or given me any sign as to the progression of his search. I couldn't even see his silhouette among the interweaving of trees and branches.

Even though he had told me not to move, I stepped off of the blanket, intending to inspect the woods. I was not as apprehensive as I could have been. I knew that there were no bears, wolves, etc. in the Hampton Roads area. The biggest animals we had around here were dogs on leashes. This place was already mysterious; what other treasures, besides the field of fox gloves, were hiding in this secret area of the park?

I shoved my brown boots back over my jeans and picked up the picnic basket, knowing that it contained my phone in case anything happened. Well, this was a bad idea in general. Sending a person with a bad sense of direction to find another person with a bad sense of direction? Unfortunately, it was my sole option.

My foot grazed the smooth grass, but the ground was rougher and harder the closer I drew to the tree line. I stepped over a root and began a long and complicated trek further into the trees. I kept the basket on my arm like Little Red Riding Hood and continuously called out Alex's name, hoping for a response. There was no rustling still, but I began to hear sounds once again. The birds were far away, but they were squawking fervently. I heard the trickling of water. I heard the crunch of leaves and sticks as my new boots surveyed the land. I saw no other creature, but I assured myself that they were there. Hampton Roads basically had a 3:1 squirrel to human ratio.

I didn't check my phone to see how long I had walked, but I knew that it was for at least thirty minutes. I occupied my mind by singing songs to myself and, for some ungodly reason, reciting lines that had stuck in my brain from A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumbered here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend:

If you pardon, we wi—"

Then, suddenly, I wasn't alone. The bush to my right rustled faintly and I curiously peered over. A bunny with huge brown eyes and checkered fur hopped through the foliage. It was miniature, as though it was only a few weeks old, and its ears were turned downward innocently. Its whiskers were wider than its face, contributing to its dwarfed and gentle appearance. It wrinkled its nose before meeting my eyes, after which I inwardly melted.

I knew that it wasn't smart to approach animals in the wild, but this adorable bunny that could fit into my palm was definitely not a threat. I crouched down slowly, simultaneously bringing my hand closer and closer to the bunny's head. I cooed sweet, nonsensical things and met his head with a tender pat. I rubbed his head and ears for a few moments, temporarily engorging myself with cuteness. The bunny nuzzled into my hand and I was tempted to pick him up and take him home.

Alex wouldn't have a problem adopting a pet, right? It's not like he can't afford them.

The bunny and I shared a fun and intimate moment when, suddenly, he hopped away from my hand. I assumed that I had scared him, but he didn't run away. He backed away to the bush and, once again, his beady black eyes and my inquisitive lavender ones connected.

Then, the bunny started shaking. I assumed that it was rabies, so I stood up and prepared to run away, but he didn't pounce. There was no thrashing. No foaming of the mouth. His whole body was shivering. Vibrating.

I am not even sure what exactly happened next, but I will try to explain it to the best of my abilities. The bunny's body was engulfed by a silvery wisp of light. It was too bright to have come from the tree tops, but it swam around the bunny's body like a snake at supersonic speed. The speed of the bunny's vibrations combined with the radiating like appeared to incite some sort of conformational change. Like a chemical reaction.

Then, the bunny was completely wrapped within the light and I couldn't see it anymore. The light grew larger, and larger, and larger until I towered over me. I was too bemused and too stubborn to move, so I stood in confusion and horror as the light slowed its circumvention around the body and dissipated. My eyes shot open as I looked upon what now stood in front of me.

A creature with knotted brown fur and small, pointed ears, and razor sharp teeth. It had claws several inches long extending from thick, strong hands. It was enormous to begin with, but was at least eleven feet tall when it stood on its hind legs.

I'm not sure how to explain what happened, but there was no way to deny what I was looking at.

I was faced with a brown bear.

Once it smelled my fear, it released a loud, reverberating roar.