Chapter 25: Because I Love You
Jameson was down the road, waiting for me impatiently in the crammed Mercedes. I had flown back to the Mansion despite his protests (the car was in motion when I leapt out of the window) and was currently perched upside down on the cold iron gate.
We had locked up the house; the doors were padlocked, the gate was sealed firmly shut. We had even put sheets on the furniture. By the time we were done, the Mansion resembled a ghost of its former self. Everything was there, but so distant. It even felt more haunted then usual, what with the drafty halls and dusty rooms. It looked as if we had been moved out for ages.
Several other bats—one of which the tiny one that I had met so long ago—were chattering in a nearby pine tree. Some nonsense about how a bat named Slasher had attacked a blond boy. Trevor? I wondered. I felt my bat lips curl up a little.
I heard heavy boots thudding against pavement and looked over to the sidewalk anxiously. Just as I had suspected, Raven was running to the Mansion, a frantic look on her face that sent a spasm of pain to my chest.
The lock on her gate didn't deter her, though—she climbed the ironwork with ease. I flew off in a safer area—the tree in which the noisy bats were—and observed in anguish as she rang the bell repeatedly, her desperation increasing. When no one answered the door, she rapped on it with the serpent knocker as a second resort. She backed away slowly from the front door after realizing that it was a lost cause.
I wanted so badly to rush to her, to transform back into a boy who could embrace her in his arms again, to comfort her. I wanted to explain everything; and at the same time, I wanted to take off to the Mercedes as fast as I could.
Raven looked into the living room window half-hopefully. Her shoulders slumped a little when she saw the white sheets. She raced out to the back, to the basement window.
I knew that she had used it to enter the Mansion before; I remembered how Jameson had said the basement door was open that night. I also remembered how much my grandmother had complained about a window that didn't shut properly. I had put two and two together, and . . . yes, I'd been right. Raven ran to the gate, a black envelope in her hand.
I had placed a letter for her to read near the basement window as soon as I had woken up this evening. I had tried to keep it simple, hoping that she'd be able to understand the words, despite the fact that there were only a few of them.
She held it under the street lamp beside the gate and opened it with quick fingers. A black card slid out onto her open hand, and she smoothed it out. Even from my perch, I could see the blood red letters glinting in the lamplight.
Because I love you.
Raven touched the words with her fingertips as if she was grasping for an explanation from me. More of a goodbye, more feeling.
I'd been too afraid to say anything more then that, because it could have been made false—I couldn't say "I'll be back," because the truth was, I might not. I couldn't say that I was a vampire all along and explain my life because it might wind up in the wrong hands. All I could write were those four words.
I heard her sniffle. Raven slunk against the gates, her faces streaked with tears that glistened in the dim lighting.
Another spasm of pain hit me. Why couldn't I go without breaking a person's heart?
Before I could stop myself, I flitted to the iron gate just above her. I gave a little chirp to get her attention. She looked up, locking her deep eyes with mine.
They say that only soul mates can breathe and be one with another just by a simple glance. That they had such a strong connection, no amount of distance, time or impossibilities could truly rip them apart. For that moment, when I looked into her beautiful irises, I felt a tranquility—even when I had no right to be. It didn't make any sense, but then again, isn't that love?
Her hand slowly reached out to me. "Alexander?" she whispered.
I think that's when I realized that I couldn't take seeing her pain any more. I took off, back to my life in the darkness, to save the lie that I held most precious.
I was half-tempted to fly past the car and keep going until I reached an isolated area, but Jameson spotted me and honked. Unable to flap away unnoticed, I landed gently in the backseat and transformed.
There was a stoplight burning red above us. It emphasized the small droplets of rain on the windshield that were sliding down the glass. The radio was a soft background hum, barely audible. My ears pricked, trying to focus on it in order to think of anything else other then what had just transpired; it was nearly impossible.
"Hey," Jameson said. I didn't even bother looking at him. Instead, I leaned my forehead against the cool window and breathed in through the nose calmly. I recognized the soft tune, now; "Hero Heroine," by Boys Like Girls. My eyes opened slightly.
The light flashed bright green, and the car rumbled smoothly down the damp street. cookie cutter houses flew away behind us, the lights coming from within the dwellings inviting, warm. We were leaving the picture perfect town at last.
"So, will you miss it?" Jameson tried again. His fingers drummed lethargically against the steering wheel.
I just stared blankly at the window, willing the music to rise and drown everything out.
He didn't get the message. "I'll miss it," he went on, "The places, the Mansion . . . even the people."
"Jameson?" I asked bitterly.
"Yes?"
"Shut up."
He finally saw the tears in my eyes and obliged. Instead of talking, he turned the music up, focusing back on the winding turns.
I remember seeing the sign informing us we were out of Dullsville through the rain and my drowsiness. It could have been my imagination, though; because I could have sworn that Jameson said something just before I fell asleep.
"It isn't an ending, you know. It's a beginning."
It may have been because I was half-conscious and slightly emotionally unsound, but I couldn't help but agree with him.
After all, sometimes the death of one thing is the birth of something new. Something better.
The end