Chapter IV: Missing
FD: I don't know why I do this, but in case everyone notices, I'm naming my chapters of my fics after Evanescence songs. I know, weird, right, but not so much. I can't help it, I love that band. They my fave! Lol. Anyways, enjoy the chapter. Peace!
The morning sun was bright and streamed in onto the grass, frost, and dew that were held upon the ground. Alara had been getting used to this world by now. She was wearing shoes almost all the time, talking to people in the right language of Russian, or English, sometimes. She had gained the ability to transform in clothes she just made appear out of air. Not only that, but she seemed to be living a normal human life. Where was she now?
In an abandoned junkyard where she and Bryan would sometimes hang out at, along with Tala. But now she was hanging alone. She couldn't be with the ones she had once loved or knew, because they all thought she was dead. All but Bryan. Now that he knew, it was even more dangerous. If he told Tala, he'd come and look for her. Then he would see her. And that couldn't happen. If he even saw her, she would immediately be sent back up. This was her new life now.
Suddenly, a light and heavenly ringing filled her ears. She answered the mirror-communicator, fixing her hair in the mirror before it was replaced with the image of three girls crowding Gabriel in the round frame.
"Alara? Is this working?" asked Anna.
"It would if you would pull your face back," she spoke.
"Oh, there we go," the child spoke, her and her friends stepping back from Gabriel.
"So, what's up?" she asked.
"Us," laughed Sami. Alara rolled her eyes at the comment again.
"Alara, we got to talk about something," Gabriel spoke suddenly. Alara was confused.
"Wow, haven't been here in awhile," Bryan spoke, staring up at the descolent and old and abandoned beige house. Memories came back to him so suddenly, it was scary.
"Wasn't this your old house?" Tala asked.
"Yeah, it used to be, before I went to the abbey," Bryan spoke, walking up the porch, vines and weeds crowding the railing. The once beautiful oak door had rusted on its hinges, the wood now covered with muck, dirt, and some plants. The door opened with a creaking noise, revealing an empty and cold living room.
"No one's lived in here since the cops came and yellow taped it," Bryan spoke.
"Why did they yellow tape this place? It was nice and cozy when I came over," Tala spoke.
"It was because someone died," Bryan said. "My family was the last to live here."
Tala, not remembering a thing about then, shrugged and entered the living room. If he remembered right, the big sliding glass door window led to the courtyard, where he remembered was a beautiful garden of roses and pretty flowers. The lovely staircase was still there, but the oak railing was covered with dust and rust.
Bryan and Tala went up the staircase to the upper level to the main hall where lines of doors leading into different rooms were. Bryan and Tala were there, hoping to find one of Bryan's old hidden Beyblades that he kept from his mother. Bryan was having a hard time remembering where he put it. He was six when he did, and hadn't seen it since.
Tala opened one of the doors, and stepped in. The room was bright, sunlight streamed in from the three bare windows, spreading across the white carpet. The walls were pink with red roses across the top. The closet was big with double mirror doors. A ceiling fan hovered over his head. This room was familiar to Tala from somewhere. He just couldn't remember.
Tala opened the closet, and felt around the wooden floor. He remembered that the Beyblade Bryan had hidden had a secretive bitbeast in it. A bitbeast that was unknown to even archeologists and scientist who have studied them. If memory served right, the bitbeast's name was Dark Angel. He never saw what it looked like, but when released, it encircled the bladers with a dark shadowy fog, and until the battle ended, the fog would remain. The bitbeast liked to hide within the darkness, and attack when least expected.
Tala felt around the corners, looking for it. The blade would bring him ultimate strength and power if he could control it. Not even Bryan could control it. Only one person could. But who was that?
Tala rapped his knuckles against the boards, and then heard the hollow sound. Something was under the boards. He reached his fingers beneath them and pulled with his strength. He tossed the broken wood boards across the room, and found a small black box in a small hole made to be hidden between the layers separating the bedroom floor and the downstairs' ceiling. He blew away the dust on the top of it, and then noticed the ruby and gold latch sealing it. He flipped it and opened the box to reveal velvet inside with solid white beyblade inside it. Along the linings of the roof was a white film paper. Tala pulled it out, and it revealed a picture. A picture of a girl.
The girl had short black hair and solid light gray eyes that were endless and deep. She had a beautiful smile as she stared at the camera. Suddenly, as if a jolt of lightning had hit him, memories flashed before Tala's eyes. First, he was back at the front yard of this house, which looked brand new, and sitting on the porch steps was the girl, waiting for him. Then he was in the abbey, and the girl was there, being beaten by Boris. Tala felt himself running toward her. Then he was in the woods, beybattling, his first blade, a navy blue one, was facing up against the white blade, which was being handled by the girl perfectly. Then he was talking on the phone to her, yelling for some reason. Then he was at the beach, alone, but then a soft voice talking to him. Next, he was back at the house, yellow tape of the police surrounding it, an ambulance parked in front, carrying the girl, who looked unconscious, on a gurney into the white van. Bryan was nowhere to be seen then.
Tears suddenly were brought to Tala's face. He remembered. He remembered it all. His best friend, how she was the only one to control the Dark Angel, how she and he had a fight, and how she died. Wait, he didn't know how she died. The doctors couldn't even figure it out. He had been able to get to the hospital, but when he did, it was too late. She was dead. It was over for their friendship. As if reliving it, the pain increased inside Tala's chest. He couldn't breathe right. He wanted run away. As far away from this place as possible. But he was bound to that spot right there by that picture of his old best friend, Bryan's older sister, Alara.
"Tala, I remember where I put the blade. It's in-" Bryan appeared in the doorway, but stopped once he saw his friend crying on the floor over the picture of his sister six years ago. He sighed and placed a hand on Tala's shoulder. He looked up at him. "You remember now, don't you?"
Tala didn't answer, but wiped away the tears. He stood back up, grabbing the box, stuffing the picture in it carefully, then closing the box, and tucked it in his pocket as they exit the house together.
"Tala, I know what'll cheer you up!" Bryan pushed Tala through the front door of a club, and pushed him along to the bar stand. "A nice drink for you to get high!"
Tala punched Bryan hard for that comment, but he needed a drink, so he agreed. Immediately, the two of them were gulping down glasses of beer. Tala was so high up, though. More than Bryan, even though he had more than he did. Tala's mind was like a seesaw now, going from one side to the other painfully. He was staring emptily at the crowd, just blind by drunkenness.
"Bryan, I need some air," he said drowsily. He needed it. Bryan nodded, and Tala went out the back into the alley. The moonlight, which he would normally enjoy and look at, was now giving him headaches and he had to raise his hand over his head to shield his head. A major headache aroused, and Tala hurled himself onto the ground to vomit.
After regaining a slight bit more of consciousness, Tala then heard voices shouting down the alley. He heard a woman's voice screaming, and then the voices of a couple of drunken guys. He stood up, his body going numb, as well as his mind. He found himself running down the alley, and found what was going on. A girl, hot, no doubt, was pushed up against the wall, her long black hair had fallen across her face, silver eyes glaring ahead at a gang of boys who were more drunk than Tala, picking her off and threatening her.
One grabbed the hem of her shirt, which was low-cut around the chest and waist, revealing her abdomen. Fear shot through her eyes. Tala knew what was going on. He began running toward them, and then his fist collided with the right side of the guy's face. He let out a loud groan, then went flying across the alley and hit the wall opposite hard. The others stared at first at the guy, then back at Tala. He didn't even look at the girl. His focus was on them.
Suddenly, they all pounced on him and circled him. Watching carefully, he smiled and jumped up, bouncing off the wall next to him, causing the guys to collide. Then he shot down and kicked one of them hard. That person ended up bleeding on his stomach next to the first guy. Soon they all were knocked out, but the seesaws in Tala's head were still rocking with a painful speed. He couldn't focus, think, or anything. His mind was numb. His body was numb. And the fight didn't do much help.
He found himself looking at the girl, who was pushed up against the wall, her breath caught in her throat, as he could tell. He smiled. He approached her, and then began talking to her.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, thanks," she said. "Um, do you recognize me?"
"We've never met. I would remember a girl as pretty as you," stupid line, corny, even. But as the girl sighed, he approached her. He then found her blushing, even. Light red lines covered her cheeks. She closed the gap between them, and she rose herself to meet his lips.
Hers were sweet, soft, cool. Perfect. Tala was at first surprised by this, but then he returned it. He found one hand of his climbing to the small of her back that was revealed, her skin warm and soft. His other hand was running through her black hair. He then found himself deepening it. She moaned, but then quickly pulled away.
She looked up at him with a blush, realizing that he was obviously drunk. She then turned and ran down the alley. He smiled. She seemed familiar from a bit, but he was too drunk to even realize it. He returned to the club, but only to rush into a bathroom to vomit.
"So, you mean to tell me that you kissed him, and he didn't even recognize you? Are you sure it was him?" Gabriel asked Alara. She was in her new home, which was a beautiful dojo that was abandoned. Thank you, God, she said.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I recognize those eyes anywhere. Does that count?" she asked.
"No, it doesn't. You won't be coming back out of sure luck. In fact, if the drunker doesn't recognize you, you won't have to come back up. If he's stable and does, then, yeah, you do. But, you're safe, for now," Gabriel teased.
Alara was still blushing. She couldn't believe she had actually kissed Tala. He was a real good kisser. She was close to kissing him before. Real close. He was at the beach six years ago, just thinking. It was sunset. She had gone there to draw a picture. That's when they saw each other. They didn't say anything to each other at all. In fact, when Tala had seen her, he had immediately brought her close, but their lips never met.
"Alara, you going to be okay?" Gabriel asked. She nodded, touching her lips. She then noticed that he was blushing. Giggling slightly, she smiled and hung up. She lied back on her bed and stared up at the dojo's ceiling. The night was perfect, a full moon, clear black sky, sparkling stars. She just hoped Tala was looking at the sky right then with her.
Sure enough, he was. Looking out the window of his room, he was staring up at the sky. It was late at night, and he had barfed up his share, so now he had his window open, allowing the cool night air to clear his head. His mind was no longer seesaws, but it was wobbly from time to time, thanks to how much both he and Bryan had drunk. But he was leaning over the window, the picture of his old best friend in his hand, staring at it.
"Alara, why'd you have to leave?" he cried softly. He brought the picture closer to his face, and brushed his lips against where hers was.
He remembered when he was tempted to kiss her. He always wondered what it would be like. That day at the beach, he was so close. All he needed was a few more seconds, if Bryan hadn't showed up and teased him. That was the last he saw of her. The next time, she was in a gurney, unconscious.
She always had these theories where sometimes people do things without their attention. She called it a subconscious act. You do believe you're doing something, but you're really doing something else entirely. Like once, while she was drawing, she claimed she could run faster than Tala. But after he had accepted her challenged and raced her, (he didn't win), she claimed that she had done no such thing. Tala always thought that her theories were ridiculous. But, today, the same thing happened to him. He had beaten up, not one, not two, but six guys from picking on a girl. And he was drunk, so he didn't have control. It was subconsciously.
As he stared up at the moon, he sighed sadly, wiping away the tears in his eyes. He missed Alara. He needed her now more than ever. If he saw her again, he wouldn't hesitate, he wouldn't worry, he would take her, embrace her, and kiss her in such a way even she would be amazed.
But he shook off that feeling. You're being stupid, he told himself. She's dead. And she won't be coming back. It was impossible.
Yet even the impossible was possible. Crazy things were supposed to happen after a full moon, and that night just happened to be a full moon.
FD: Okay, that's all for now. The next chapter might be a one-shot of the relationship between Alara and Tala, but I don't know. All I do know is that I'm basing it from the hit song by Seal called Kiss From A Rose. Hope you guys enjoyed it! Tiky, I know you have.
