Chapter Three: "... but who can decide what they dream?..."
Anne's POV
Part One
Mis-cel-la-ne-ous: 1. formed or consisting of different things or parts, not arranged in a particular pattern or system. 2. having or showing qualities, interests, etc.; many-sided.
My favourite word is miscellaneous.
It's such a disorderly word. There is no rhyme or reason to miscellaneousness. A person doesn't have to be one particular thing. Happy. Sad. Clean. Funny. Mad. Lovable. Kind. Friendly.
Perfection.
No, with a spark of miscellaneousness, a person is free to be crazy and confused and happy and sad all at the same time.
I've always wanted to be miscellaneous.
My foster parents, Jane and Gary Pifner, taught me by the book with the illusion of being "myself". I was taught to be laidback, but only when necessary. I was taught to be humourous, but only when there was nothing else to say. I was allowed to decorate my room as a teenager, as long as the colours were light and pastel. No decorations that didn't pass their approval were allowed.
They weren't always stiff though.
On Sundays I was allowed to do charity work after church service.
From the moment I entered the Pifner's household, I knew I didn't belong. I was different. I was different in more ways than one could imagine. I never fit into their cookie cutter perception of who I should have been. They pitied me, pitied my situation – my life before them. They even pitied my life after them.
Even thought I didn't know it then, I had a part inside of me that would push me to become more. It would push me to be more than the Pifner's could ever fathom.
I used to dream of my real mother, although I don't remember much. All I can recall is her long, golden hair sweeping against my skin, like a blanket of silk enrapturing me. Every morning when I awoke from one my dreams, I would immediately shut my eyes again. I would wish for the dream to come back for me, to bring me back to its safety.
And every time it failed me.
The Pifner's attempted to raise me in a manner where I had no questions. They never denied not being my real parents, but it never went past that. Whenever I asked Jane if she knew my mother, she would simply reply, "When you have questions, you should turn to the Lord. He will guide you." Even when I asked her what would appear on the dinner table that evening, she answered the same. As if God were in the kitchen, preparing the spaghetti and meatballs himself.
My years as a child left me curious, but ashamed, as if wherever I had come from was awful or demeaning. When my body began to awaken during my preteen years, I was certain that I was not like the other children in my religious youth group. Other girls my age were worrying about bleeding from their little patches of heaven, whereas I was worrying about why my skirts were turning sinful colours with the only touch of my fingers.
It terrified me. I was in such fear that I was convinced that the devil was coming for me. I could never share with Jane and Gary either, too scared that I would be sent back to whatever hell I had came from. I hid my abilities for years. I wouldn't even allow my thoughts to ponder them, too frightened that God would be listening.
But then Tyler Kendall changed it all.
He was a year older than me, a sophomore in high school when we met. Tyler was my math tutor. I've never been particularly great with mathematics, so the Pifner's decided I needed to "brush" up on my skills with the aid of a tutor. Tyler had been hired through the recommendation of a church friend.
Tyler was unlike any other person I had ever known. Up until then, Jane and Gary had practically handpicked all of my friends and influences. Luckily, they never came face to face with Tyler, otherwise we would never have been able to meet at all. His naturally chestnut hair was constantly being teased with flamboyant shades. From chartreuse to magenta to indigo, his hair had seen it all. He had a piercing in his right nostril, and two in each earlobe. Tyler was constantly seen in ragged, but classic Nirvana shirts.
I was absolutely smitten.
On top of it all, Tyler was a well-rounded, intelligent, freethinking individual. I hung onto every word he shared with me, keeping them with me until I could be alone with them later. I would take each sentence he spoke, and turn it over and over in my head, analyzing it all.
Our tutorial afternoons started just as that – math lessons. But day after day, the ice began to break between us. It started off as just small talk. "Have you seen this movie?" Tyler would ask me, and the answer would always be a negative. Or he would ask, "Have you heard this band's latest song?" Which I would, of course, have shaken my head no to.
Finally one afternoon, he questioned me about my lack of pop culture knowledge.
"Don't you see any movies or listen to any music?" Tyler made it sound like I was sheltered puppy, stuck in the pound.
And he was right.
I revealed to him that my parents were strict, and I was mostly only allowed to participate in educational activities.
"Aw, shit, man, that's harsh. What a bunch of crackers."
I must have stared at him oddly afterwards, because he shook his head and laughed. "We need to teach you some of this stuff, Anne. You can't survive in high school without being able to act like a real person."
Things just progressed from there. Tyler would tell my parents on the phone that an additional tutoring lesson would be necessary for the following Friday or Saturday night. I would meet him at the local library, and he would take me to all sorts of places.
I remember the first time he took me to see a movie. I sat in awe throughout the film, like a person watching the sunset for the first time. Tyler greedily sucked and crunched on his popcorn and soda, while I was transfixed with the mere idea of a movie theatre. I was mystified.
I began to find a part of myself that I never realized was there. I was introduced to different aspects and beliefs of the world. I did not have to put my faith into something I never truly believed in the first place. I began to skip church service, feigning illness. That was the Pifner's first sign of awareness that I was no longer going to be the girl without questions.
Escalating more so, I would leave the house on nights without permission – sometimes without even their knowledge. Tyler became the number one priority. He gave me the knowledge – the consciousness of a life that I never knew was available.
We never did anything really crazy. It was always a new adventure every night. He would take me to a fast food restaurant, or a contemporary art house. Or we would just hang out at his place, as he taught me what exactly the worldwide web was, and how the hell it was possible.
Even with a somewhat rough exterior, Tyler was soulful inside. And observant. He always knew what to say, what to do, and how to react. Beside him, I seemed like a constant time bomb, exploding at whatever new invention was brought to my eyes.
Sitting on his couch one night, Tyler began to ask me things. Other than the initial lack of pop culture questions, he had never really questioned me about my life. To be quiet honest, I was the one walking around with question marks springing from my head like firecrackers.
"Okay, Anne, give it to me straight," he said to me as he turned the television on mute. "Your parents. What's the deal?"
I shifted in my seat, beginning to feel uncomfortable. "What do you mean? They're my parents."
"Well, when we first started hanging out, you called them Mom and Dad. And now you just call them 'The Pifners'. As if they're like – I don't know, just some family. Like 'The Waltons' or 'The Tanners'. I don't get it."
Scratching my head, I asked, "Who are the Tanners?"
Tyler sighed. "It was a 90's show, Full House? Forget it, not important." He put his hand on top of mine. "I've heard things at school, and being friends with you and all, I just wanted to know if it was true."
Swallowing hard, I stared at a dented piece of wall right behind his left ear. "What have you heard?"
He ran his knuckles gently against my hand. "If you don't want to talk about this, it's fine, Anne." I saw him smile at me from the corner of my eye. "It doesn't make a difference in what you and I have."
"What you and I have?" I repeated in a high voice. "What do we have?"
Tyler sighed and brought his hand back. "Forget it." He turned off the mute on the television, and crossed his arms. Fighting back unwanted fear, I stole the remote control and turned off the television. I chucked the remote across the room.
"What do we have, Tyler?" I questioned in a solid voice. I turned towards him, staring straight into his creamy, brown eyes. I was a complete goner.
"Something," he muttered. "We have something, all right? Drop it."
"I won't drop it. Please," I pleaded, "Tell me what we have."
Tyler gazed back at me with intensity. "You make me feel..." He trailed off, unsure of how to exactly place what he was feeling. He grabbed my hand and held it between both of his. "Right. You make me feel right. I always feel right when I'm with you."
I blushed profusely, wondering if this is what love felt like. I had read about it, how it drove people to death, but never had I experienced quite so intensely.
"I feel right with you too." I dropped my head, trying to shield my tears. "And I'm not just repeating what you said. I've never felt right in my life, Tyler. Then you came into my life and suddenly – I was open and right and, and, and..." I paused. I looked back up at him. "And I finally knew who I was."
Reaching deep inside myself, I continued. "The Pifners are not my real family. Well, they've tried to be, but they're not."
Tyler let out a noisy breath. "So it's true. What I've heard at school then. That ten years ago your mom went missing, out of the blue. Neighbours found you without anyone around." He shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Anne."
I shrugged. "I don't remember much of it. Counselors once told me that people sometimes block their memories after a traumatic experience." I scrunched my eyebrows. "I once read in the paper that there was another woman who lived with my mother and I, but I don't really remember her either." I gave him a sad smile. "I wish I did. I have so many questions."
Tyler nodded. "Totally understandable." Giving a light, slightly nervous chuckle, he stood up. "Okay, enough with that. I'm going to grab the remote control and then we can watch a movie or something, okay?" He walked over to where the remote had landed, and picked it up.
"Hey, can you pass me my bag?" I asked him as he made his way back to me.
"Sure, where is -" He didn't finished his sentence as he stumbled over my purse, and crashed into a nearby table.
"Tyler!" I screamed. I ran over to him, worried. "Are you all right?" As he rolled over to face me, a large, bleeding cut stared up at me. "Oh, Ty, you're bleeding."
"I am?" As he touched his forehead lightly, testing for blood. "Damn. That hurt." I laughed at his lack of emotion, and grabbed a tissue. I pressed it up against his head, applying pressure.
Laughing again, I told him, "Yeah, it looked like it hurt." Taking the tissue away to check the cut, I stared at it with puzzlement. "Weird, I don't see the cut."
Tyler gave me a confused look. "What do you mean you don't see the cut? I was bleeding. I felt the cut."
I shook my head. "I saw the blood and cut too, but when I took the tissue off, it was go- oh my god." I began to tremble and immediately moved away.
"What?" Tyler asked. "What's wrong?" He stood and took a few steps near me, but I backed away again.
"I have to go, Tyler," I told him quickly. "I'll see you later." I reached for my purse, but he grabbed my wrist with an intent stare.
Slowly, he asked me, "Anne, what's wrong? Did I do something?" Furrowing my eyebrows, he questioned, "Does blood freak you out or something?"
Giving a nervous laugh, I shook my head no. He looked at me again, puzzled. "Was it the cut? You put a Kleenex on it an-" Gaining a small grasp of understanding, he asked, "Did you do something to my cut? Do you have magic powers or something?"
"No!" I barked, making it obvious I was lying to him. "Let me go!" I began crying profusely, ashamed of everything I was. I was ashamed of everything I didn't know, because I knew that when Tyler asked me questions, I wouldn't have the answers.
That night set in motion the events that would shape my life forever. With a calm face, Tyler listened to every silly word I had to say. How I came about these special skills, not powers, and the little I knew about them.
And for the first time in my life, I was truly free from the chains that held me.
Tyler had set me free, and I owed my life to him.
Sometimes I feel this sadness in me. It's like a jack in the box, lying dormant until something – anything - makes it catapult out of its box. I can feel it laying quietly within me, even on the most joyous of events. Then on a random day, it will just burst inside of me, making my emotions not my own. Suddenly I won't love life anymore. I won't feel adequate. Or I just won't feel at all.
And it's a terrifying thing. Not feeling at all, that is. People say that love is the strongest emotion or feeling there is – but those people must have never felt the emptiness. They must have never felt the loneliness, because it is all consuming. It swallows you whole, without a word of warning.
Not being able to breathe must be a horrible experience. But being able to breathe and not wanting to – it's a much more horrifying predicament, because I have the power to do it. I have to power to make myself not breathe. And sometimes just having that power makes the entire situation much more dangerous.
Telling Tyler about everything was the most freeing action I could ever take. Not because it was off my chest. No, it was because he understood. He shared my pain with me, not with his words – but with his heart. Every time I ached, he would ache with me. The sadness was never just for me to feel anymore - like a white knight, he eased the pain.
It was Tyler who pushed me to find out the truth. I was fearful of finding out where I came from – what I really was. What if I discovered what I was looking for and didn't like it? But Tyler always loved thrills, and gripping my hand, we ventured for the truth.
I admit now that I treated the Pifners poorly. They had taken me in when I had no one else. Despite the sheltering of outside life, they were good people with good hearts. My eyes were hazy though, and I faded out of their lives until I was no longer a part of them at all. After graduating, I moved into an apartment with Tyler. Surprisingly, the Pifners never really argued with me about anything. I think on a deeper level, they understood why I needed to branch away.
Our efforts to find my past were fruitless at first. We didn't know where to start. Our investigation of the newspapers from around the time my mother disappeared provided us with no important information whatsoever. No names were ever mentioned, not even my mother's. It all was the same – a young girl is found abandoned outside of her home. Her mother disappeared without a trace, and the 'allegedly drunken' roommate wanted nothing to do with the case.
Tyler was determined though. He always said he wanted to find out for me, but I suspect he was just as curious as I. Sometimes when we would sit together at night, he would try to get me test for other skills, like mind reading and telekinesis. It always ended without positive results, but I always tried for him. It was the least I could do.
It wasn't until three years after we had moved in that I really became in tune with the other side.
Up until then, Tyler and I had shared a fairly platonic relationship, even after he confessed feeling right with me. We were even living together, and he knew the most inner secrets of my life – and still, we touched and moved around each other like fourth graders.
One night we were enjoying our first night off together in weeks, so we had gotten comfortable in front of the television. After a few hours of watching show after show, my week caught up with me and I fell asleep against his shoulder.
Ten minutes later, I awoke up to his very soft lips against mine.
"Tyler," I stammered breathily. Pulling my lips back, I stared at him with wide eyes. "What was that?"
Tyler coughed, shaking his head. "Nothing." When I continued to stare at him with shock, he added hastily, "Didn't think you were breathing." Another cough. "Or something."
While Tyler was doing his best to forget what he had done, all I could think was, 'Damn it, how could I have been asleep for my first kiss?'
Forfeiting any insecurity, I reached for his head and pulled it towards me. Suddenly our lips were intertwined, and I felt this bliss I had never felt before. It was like the entirety of Tyler's soul washed over me, and I could feel him in places that his physical body could never touch.
"Anne," he moaned softly. Suddenly hands were all over the place, and our bodies were experiencing sensations I didn't even think possible.
"Anne," he said again, but more distinct. He pulled his lips away, but his hands cupped my face. "What are we doing?"
I shook my head. "I don't know," I replied. "But I don't want to stop." His lips came crashing back on mine, and suddenly we didn't need to know what we were doing. It just happened.
Hours later we laid naked on Tyler's bed, and I finally learned what spooning was. I felt awkward, and unsure of myself. Was that what people actually did behind their bedroom doors?
Pulling me closer, Tyler kissed my bare shoulder. "That was..." He paused, searching for words. "That was like nothing I've ever experienced."
"Huh," I replied dumbly. "Me either."
Laughing, Tyler rubbed the length of my arm. I had to admit, that felt good. His hands just smoothing down my skin, easing away the uncomfortable goose bumps.
"I'm sorry if it hurt," he told me gently. "I've been told it hurts the first time." Leaving kisses on my neck, he whispered to me, "You don't have to believe me, but it does get better."
Suddenly feeling like a child, I told him sternly, "It did not hurt." The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I was acting like an idiot. Tyler was just trying to be understanding. "It was just a little uncomfortable," I added more gently. Biting my lip, I asked cautiously, "Was I any good?"
Tyler chuckled, and nuzzled his head against my shoulder. "You were perfect." I heard his voice becoming hazy, and I was sure he was falling asleep. Adding in his heavy-eyed state, he whispered, "Perfect as always." I soon followed him into slumber.
That night proved to be the most life changing night for two reasons. One was the unbelievable night with Tyler, and the second was what followed. Now, I've never really paid attention to dreams, but that night was the most peculiar dream I've ever had.
I was standing in a cave unrecognizable by my eyes. Lighting was in short supply, but it glowed with a blue hue. Four large, sphere-like pods hung on the wall, and the way that the skin was protruding, it was as if something had pushed their way through these pods. As I inspected the cave, I sensed that I was there for a reason – that I was waiting for something or someone.
"You must be Anne," a woman's voice called out to me. Turning, I saw the most beautiful woman standing behind me. Although her face bared tired wrinkles, her eyes twinkled gloriously. Her golden hair hung just below her shoulders and it seemed to glisten. I was in complete awe.
"Who are..." I trailed off, suddenly overwhelmed with unexpected emotions. "Are you..."
With a sad frown, she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, I'm not your mother." With a light laugh, she added, "But I wish I were. You're so beautiful."
Confused, I stepped towards her. "Then why do I feel like I know you?" Swallowing hard, I asked, "Why do I feel a connection to you?"
She moved towards me, putting her hand across where my heart laid. "Because we are connected. Right here." Smiling, she dropped her hand. "Because we are the same."
My emotions came rushing forwards, along with questions I had been storing for years. "We're the same?" I repeated, almost hopefully. When she nodded, I took a deep breath. "We're the same." I felt so relieved at that moment – so relieved that I was not alone. "I have so many questions."
The beautiful woman reached for my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "And I wish I could answer them."
My stomach dropping, I stared hard at her. "What do you mean? Why can't you answer them?"
"Oh, Anne, that's just not the way it works. Some answers take more time, more effort, more precautions to discover. There's so much more you have to do. So many more paths to travel" She smiled at me again, her eyes shining brightly. "I can't answer what you have to ask, but I can give you the next piece of the puzzle." With a puzzled expression, she asked me, "Are you afraid?"
With an almost bitter laugh, I replied, "I'm almost always afraid."
"Then let him pull you out of the fear."
"Who?"
"The man who has claimed your heart, love." She cupped my face, and kissed my cheek. I could feel her beginning to pull away, and I wish I could have kept her with me forever, but somehow, I knew she had somewhere else to be.
"The next piece of the puzzle is Kal Langley."
The woman began to walk away from me. Watching her, I reached to touch her again, but it was too late. Before she left my sight completely, I yelled at her to wait. Turning to look at me, she raised her eyebrow in question.
"You never told me who you are," I cried.
The woman grinned, and nodded sadly. "You might never know who I am, Anne, but you can call me Isabel."
I awoke then, back to my reality. Yet my world seemed a slight bit larger, and maybe even a bit sadder. For being such a beautiful woman, Isabel had such a sad face. Her eyes were even sad when they were turned up for a smile. I didn't know who she was, but I knew she was real. And that I had to find this Langley fellow.
Tyler and I left for Los Angeles the next day. It was no longer just a race to discover where I came from – I felt I had to do this for Isabel. I didn't know what path of life she had come from, but I knew she visited me to make sure I would follow the one I was supposed to. The path of life I was destined for.
Tyler had recognized Kal Langley as an infamous Hollywood director. We had no plans or strategies, but we knew that we had to follow this lead while we could. Once we reached Los Angeles, we realized how incredibly foolish we were being. How would we ever be able to contact Kal Langley?
Fortunately, he came to us.
Anne's POV
Part One
Mis-cel-la-ne-ous: 1. formed or consisting of different things or parts, not arranged in a particular pattern or system. 2. having or showing qualities, interests, etc.; many-sided.
My favourite word is miscellaneous.
It's such a disorderly word. There is no rhyme or reason to miscellaneousness. A person doesn't have to be one particular thing. Happy. Sad. Clean. Funny. Mad. Lovable. Kind. Friendly.
Perfection.
No, with a spark of miscellaneousness, a person is free to be crazy and confused and happy and sad all at the same time.
I've always wanted to be miscellaneous.
My foster parents, Jane and Gary Pifner, taught me by the book with the illusion of being "myself". I was taught to be laidback, but only when necessary. I was taught to be humourous, but only when there was nothing else to say. I was allowed to decorate my room as a teenager, as long as the colours were light and pastel. No decorations that didn't pass their approval were allowed.
They weren't always stiff though.
On Sundays I was allowed to do charity work after church service.
From the moment I entered the Pifner's household, I knew I didn't belong. I was different. I was different in more ways than one could imagine. I never fit into their cookie cutter perception of who I should have been. They pitied me, pitied my situation – my life before them. They even pitied my life after them.
Even thought I didn't know it then, I had a part inside of me that would push me to become more. It would push me to be more than the Pifner's could ever fathom.
I used to dream of my real mother, although I don't remember much. All I can recall is her long, golden hair sweeping against my skin, like a blanket of silk enrapturing me. Every morning when I awoke from one my dreams, I would immediately shut my eyes again. I would wish for the dream to come back for me, to bring me back to its safety.
And every time it failed me.
The Pifner's attempted to raise me in a manner where I had no questions. They never denied not being my real parents, but it never went past that. Whenever I asked Jane if she knew my mother, she would simply reply, "When you have questions, you should turn to the Lord. He will guide you." Even when I asked her what would appear on the dinner table that evening, she answered the same. As if God were in the kitchen, preparing the spaghetti and meatballs himself.
My years as a child left me curious, but ashamed, as if wherever I had come from was awful or demeaning. When my body began to awaken during my preteen years, I was certain that I was not like the other children in my religious youth group. Other girls my age were worrying about bleeding from their little patches of heaven, whereas I was worrying about why my skirts were turning sinful colours with the only touch of my fingers.
It terrified me. I was in such fear that I was convinced that the devil was coming for me. I could never share with Jane and Gary either, too scared that I would be sent back to whatever hell I had came from. I hid my abilities for years. I wouldn't even allow my thoughts to ponder them, too frightened that God would be listening.
But then Tyler Kendall changed it all.
He was a year older than me, a sophomore in high school when we met. Tyler was my math tutor. I've never been particularly great with mathematics, so the Pifner's decided I needed to "brush" up on my skills with the aid of a tutor. Tyler had been hired through the recommendation of a church friend.
Tyler was unlike any other person I had ever known. Up until then, Jane and Gary had practically handpicked all of my friends and influences. Luckily, they never came face to face with Tyler, otherwise we would never have been able to meet at all. His naturally chestnut hair was constantly being teased with flamboyant shades. From chartreuse to magenta to indigo, his hair had seen it all. He had a piercing in his right nostril, and two in each earlobe. Tyler was constantly seen in ragged, but classic Nirvana shirts.
I was absolutely smitten.
On top of it all, Tyler was a well-rounded, intelligent, freethinking individual. I hung onto every word he shared with me, keeping them with me until I could be alone with them later. I would take each sentence he spoke, and turn it over and over in my head, analyzing it all.
Our tutorial afternoons started just as that – math lessons. But day after day, the ice began to break between us. It started off as just small talk. "Have you seen this movie?" Tyler would ask me, and the answer would always be a negative. Or he would ask, "Have you heard this band's latest song?" Which I would, of course, have shaken my head no to.
Finally one afternoon, he questioned me about my lack of pop culture knowledge.
"Don't you see any movies or listen to any music?" Tyler made it sound like I was sheltered puppy, stuck in the pound.
And he was right.
I revealed to him that my parents were strict, and I was mostly only allowed to participate in educational activities.
"Aw, shit, man, that's harsh. What a bunch of crackers."
I must have stared at him oddly afterwards, because he shook his head and laughed. "We need to teach you some of this stuff, Anne. You can't survive in high school without being able to act like a real person."
Things just progressed from there. Tyler would tell my parents on the phone that an additional tutoring lesson would be necessary for the following Friday or Saturday night. I would meet him at the local library, and he would take me to all sorts of places.
I remember the first time he took me to see a movie. I sat in awe throughout the film, like a person watching the sunset for the first time. Tyler greedily sucked and crunched on his popcorn and soda, while I was transfixed with the mere idea of a movie theatre. I was mystified.
I began to find a part of myself that I never realized was there. I was introduced to different aspects and beliefs of the world. I did not have to put my faith into something I never truly believed in the first place. I began to skip church service, feigning illness. That was the Pifner's first sign of awareness that I was no longer going to be the girl without questions.
Escalating more so, I would leave the house on nights without permission – sometimes without even their knowledge. Tyler became the number one priority. He gave me the knowledge – the consciousness of a life that I never knew was available.
We never did anything really crazy. It was always a new adventure every night. He would take me to a fast food restaurant, or a contemporary art house. Or we would just hang out at his place, as he taught me what exactly the worldwide web was, and how the hell it was possible.
Even with a somewhat rough exterior, Tyler was soulful inside. And observant. He always knew what to say, what to do, and how to react. Beside him, I seemed like a constant time bomb, exploding at whatever new invention was brought to my eyes.
Sitting on his couch one night, Tyler began to ask me things. Other than the initial lack of pop culture questions, he had never really questioned me about my life. To be quiet honest, I was the one walking around with question marks springing from my head like firecrackers.
"Okay, Anne, give it to me straight," he said to me as he turned the television on mute. "Your parents. What's the deal?"
I shifted in my seat, beginning to feel uncomfortable. "What do you mean? They're my parents."
"Well, when we first started hanging out, you called them Mom and Dad. And now you just call them 'The Pifners'. As if they're like – I don't know, just some family. Like 'The Waltons' or 'The Tanners'. I don't get it."
Scratching my head, I asked, "Who are the Tanners?"
Tyler sighed. "It was a 90's show, Full House? Forget it, not important." He put his hand on top of mine. "I've heard things at school, and being friends with you and all, I just wanted to know if it was true."
Swallowing hard, I stared at a dented piece of wall right behind his left ear. "What have you heard?"
He ran his knuckles gently against my hand. "If you don't want to talk about this, it's fine, Anne." I saw him smile at me from the corner of my eye. "It doesn't make a difference in what you and I have."
"What you and I have?" I repeated in a high voice. "What do we have?"
Tyler sighed and brought his hand back. "Forget it." He turned off the mute on the television, and crossed his arms. Fighting back unwanted fear, I stole the remote control and turned off the television. I chucked the remote across the room.
"What do we have, Tyler?" I questioned in a solid voice. I turned towards him, staring straight into his creamy, brown eyes. I was a complete goner.
"Something," he muttered. "We have something, all right? Drop it."
"I won't drop it. Please," I pleaded, "Tell me what we have."
Tyler gazed back at me with intensity. "You make me feel..." He trailed off, unsure of how to exactly place what he was feeling. He grabbed my hand and held it between both of his. "Right. You make me feel right. I always feel right when I'm with you."
I blushed profusely, wondering if this is what love felt like. I had read about it, how it drove people to death, but never had I experienced quite so intensely.
"I feel right with you too." I dropped my head, trying to shield my tears. "And I'm not just repeating what you said. I've never felt right in my life, Tyler. Then you came into my life and suddenly – I was open and right and, and, and..." I paused. I looked back up at him. "And I finally knew who I was."
Reaching deep inside myself, I continued. "The Pifners are not my real family. Well, they've tried to be, but they're not."
Tyler let out a noisy breath. "So it's true. What I've heard at school then. That ten years ago your mom went missing, out of the blue. Neighbours found you without anyone around." He shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Anne."
I shrugged. "I don't remember much of it. Counselors once told me that people sometimes block their memories after a traumatic experience." I scrunched my eyebrows. "I once read in the paper that there was another woman who lived with my mother and I, but I don't really remember her either." I gave him a sad smile. "I wish I did. I have so many questions."
Tyler nodded. "Totally understandable." Giving a light, slightly nervous chuckle, he stood up. "Okay, enough with that. I'm going to grab the remote control and then we can watch a movie or something, okay?" He walked over to where the remote had landed, and picked it up.
"Hey, can you pass me my bag?" I asked him as he made his way back to me.
"Sure, where is -" He didn't finished his sentence as he stumbled over my purse, and crashed into a nearby table.
"Tyler!" I screamed. I ran over to him, worried. "Are you all right?" As he rolled over to face me, a large, bleeding cut stared up at me. "Oh, Ty, you're bleeding."
"I am?" As he touched his forehead lightly, testing for blood. "Damn. That hurt." I laughed at his lack of emotion, and grabbed a tissue. I pressed it up against his head, applying pressure.
Laughing again, I told him, "Yeah, it looked like it hurt." Taking the tissue away to check the cut, I stared at it with puzzlement. "Weird, I don't see the cut."
Tyler gave me a confused look. "What do you mean you don't see the cut? I was bleeding. I felt the cut."
I shook my head. "I saw the blood and cut too, but when I took the tissue off, it was go- oh my god." I began to tremble and immediately moved away.
"What?" Tyler asked. "What's wrong?" He stood and took a few steps near me, but I backed away again.
"I have to go, Tyler," I told him quickly. "I'll see you later." I reached for my purse, but he grabbed my wrist with an intent stare.
Slowly, he asked me, "Anne, what's wrong? Did I do something?" Furrowing my eyebrows, he questioned, "Does blood freak you out or something?"
Giving a nervous laugh, I shook my head no. He looked at me again, puzzled. "Was it the cut? You put a Kleenex on it an-" Gaining a small grasp of understanding, he asked, "Did you do something to my cut? Do you have magic powers or something?"
"No!" I barked, making it obvious I was lying to him. "Let me go!" I began crying profusely, ashamed of everything I was. I was ashamed of everything I didn't know, because I knew that when Tyler asked me questions, I wouldn't have the answers.
That night set in motion the events that would shape my life forever. With a calm face, Tyler listened to every silly word I had to say. How I came about these special skills, not powers, and the little I knew about them.
And for the first time in my life, I was truly free from the chains that held me.
Tyler had set me free, and I owed my life to him.
Sometimes I feel this sadness in me. It's like a jack in the box, lying dormant until something – anything - makes it catapult out of its box. I can feel it laying quietly within me, even on the most joyous of events. Then on a random day, it will just burst inside of me, making my emotions not my own. Suddenly I won't love life anymore. I won't feel adequate. Or I just won't feel at all.
And it's a terrifying thing. Not feeling at all, that is. People say that love is the strongest emotion or feeling there is – but those people must have never felt the emptiness. They must have never felt the loneliness, because it is all consuming. It swallows you whole, without a word of warning.
Not being able to breathe must be a horrible experience. But being able to breathe and not wanting to – it's a much more horrifying predicament, because I have the power to do it. I have to power to make myself not breathe. And sometimes just having that power makes the entire situation much more dangerous.
Telling Tyler about everything was the most freeing action I could ever take. Not because it was off my chest. No, it was because he understood. He shared my pain with me, not with his words – but with his heart. Every time I ached, he would ache with me. The sadness was never just for me to feel anymore - like a white knight, he eased the pain.
It was Tyler who pushed me to find out the truth. I was fearful of finding out where I came from – what I really was. What if I discovered what I was looking for and didn't like it? But Tyler always loved thrills, and gripping my hand, we ventured for the truth.
I admit now that I treated the Pifners poorly. They had taken me in when I had no one else. Despite the sheltering of outside life, they were good people with good hearts. My eyes were hazy though, and I faded out of their lives until I was no longer a part of them at all. After graduating, I moved into an apartment with Tyler. Surprisingly, the Pifners never really argued with me about anything. I think on a deeper level, they understood why I needed to branch away.
Our efforts to find my past were fruitless at first. We didn't know where to start. Our investigation of the newspapers from around the time my mother disappeared provided us with no important information whatsoever. No names were ever mentioned, not even my mother's. It all was the same – a young girl is found abandoned outside of her home. Her mother disappeared without a trace, and the 'allegedly drunken' roommate wanted nothing to do with the case.
Tyler was determined though. He always said he wanted to find out for me, but I suspect he was just as curious as I. Sometimes when we would sit together at night, he would try to get me test for other skills, like mind reading and telekinesis. It always ended without positive results, but I always tried for him. It was the least I could do.
It wasn't until three years after we had moved in that I really became in tune with the other side.
Up until then, Tyler and I had shared a fairly platonic relationship, even after he confessed feeling right with me. We were even living together, and he knew the most inner secrets of my life – and still, we touched and moved around each other like fourth graders.
One night we were enjoying our first night off together in weeks, so we had gotten comfortable in front of the television. After a few hours of watching show after show, my week caught up with me and I fell asleep against his shoulder.
Ten minutes later, I awoke up to his very soft lips against mine.
"Tyler," I stammered breathily. Pulling my lips back, I stared at him with wide eyes. "What was that?"
Tyler coughed, shaking his head. "Nothing." When I continued to stare at him with shock, he added hastily, "Didn't think you were breathing." Another cough. "Or something."
While Tyler was doing his best to forget what he had done, all I could think was, 'Damn it, how could I have been asleep for my first kiss?'
Forfeiting any insecurity, I reached for his head and pulled it towards me. Suddenly our lips were intertwined, and I felt this bliss I had never felt before. It was like the entirety of Tyler's soul washed over me, and I could feel him in places that his physical body could never touch.
"Anne," he moaned softly. Suddenly hands were all over the place, and our bodies were experiencing sensations I didn't even think possible.
"Anne," he said again, but more distinct. He pulled his lips away, but his hands cupped my face. "What are we doing?"
I shook my head. "I don't know," I replied. "But I don't want to stop." His lips came crashing back on mine, and suddenly we didn't need to know what we were doing. It just happened.
Hours later we laid naked on Tyler's bed, and I finally learned what spooning was. I felt awkward, and unsure of myself. Was that what people actually did behind their bedroom doors?
Pulling me closer, Tyler kissed my bare shoulder. "That was..." He paused, searching for words. "That was like nothing I've ever experienced."
"Huh," I replied dumbly. "Me either."
Laughing, Tyler rubbed the length of my arm. I had to admit, that felt good. His hands just smoothing down my skin, easing away the uncomfortable goose bumps.
"I'm sorry if it hurt," he told me gently. "I've been told it hurts the first time." Leaving kisses on my neck, he whispered to me, "You don't have to believe me, but it does get better."
Suddenly feeling like a child, I told him sternly, "It did not hurt." The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I was acting like an idiot. Tyler was just trying to be understanding. "It was just a little uncomfortable," I added more gently. Biting my lip, I asked cautiously, "Was I any good?"
Tyler chuckled, and nuzzled his head against my shoulder. "You were perfect." I heard his voice becoming hazy, and I was sure he was falling asleep. Adding in his heavy-eyed state, he whispered, "Perfect as always." I soon followed him into slumber.
That night proved to be the most life changing night for two reasons. One was the unbelievable night with Tyler, and the second was what followed. Now, I've never really paid attention to dreams, but that night was the most peculiar dream I've ever had.
I was standing in a cave unrecognizable by my eyes. Lighting was in short supply, but it glowed with a blue hue. Four large, sphere-like pods hung on the wall, and the way that the skin was protruding, it was as if something had pushed their way through these pods. As I inspected the cave, I sensed that I was there for a reason – that I was waiting for something or someone.
"You must be Anne," a woman's voice called out to me. Turning, I saw the most beautiful woman standing behind me. Although her face bared tired wrinkles, her eyes twinkled gloriously. Her golden hair hung just below her shoulders and it seemed to glisten. I was in complete awe.
"Who are..." I trailed off, suddenly overwhelmed with unexpected emotions. "Are you..."
With a sad frown, she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, I'm not your mother." With a light laugh, she added, "But I wish I were. You're so beautiful."
Confused, I stepped towards her. "Then why do I feel like I know you?" Swallowing hard, I asked, "Why do I feel a connection to you?"
She moved towards me, putting her hand across where my heart laid. "Because we are connected. Right here." Smiling, she dropped her hand. "Because we are the same."
My emotions came rushing forwards, along with questions I had been storing for years. "We're the same?" I repeated, almost hopefully. When she nodded, I took a deep breath. "We're the same." I felt so relieved at that moment – so relieved that I was not alone. "I have so many questions."
The beautiful woman reached for my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "And I wish I could answer them."
My stomach dropping, I stared hard at her. "What do you mean? Why can't you answer them?"
"Oh, Anne, that's just not the way it works. Some answers take more time, more effort, more precautions to discover. There's so much more you have to do. So many more paths to travel" She smiled at me again, her eyes shining brightly. "I can't answer what you have to ask, but I can give you the next piece of the puzzle." With a puzzled expression, she asked me, "Are you afraid?"
With an almost bitter laugh, I replied, "I'm almost always afraid."
"Then let him pull you out of the fear."
"Who?"
"The man who has claimed your heart, love." She cupped my face, and kissed my cheek. I could feel her beginning to pull away, and I wish I could have kept her with me forever, but somehow, I knew she had somewhere else to be.
"The next piece of the puzzle is Kal Langley."
The woman began to walk away from me. Watching her, I reached to touch her again, but it was too late. Before she left my sight completely, I yelled at her to wait. Turning to look at me, she raised her eyebrow in question.
"You never told me who you are," I cried.
The woman grinned, and nodded sadly. "You might never know who I am, Anne, but you can call me Isabel."
I awoke then, back to my reality. Yet my world seemed a slight bit larger, and maybe even a bit sadder. For being such a beautiful woman, Isabel had such a sad face. Her eyes were even sad when they were turned up for a smile. I didn't know who she was, but I knew she was real. And that I had to find this Langley fellow.
Tyler and I left for Los Angeles the next day. It was no longer just a race to discover where I came from – I felt I had to do this for Isabel. I didn't know what path of life she had come from, but I knew she visited me to make sure I would follow the one I was supposed to. The path of life I was destined for.
Tyler had recognized Kal Langley as an infamous Hollywood director. We had no plans or strategies, but we knew that we had to follow this lead while we could. Once we reached Los Angeles, we realized how incredibly foolish we were being. How would we ever be able to contact Kal Langley?
Fortunately, he came to us.