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Some things have to be believed to be seen.- Ralph Hodgson
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Devin walked back into the house to find that Erin had left. Rory was sitting on the window seat in the library, staring out at the stars. He walked slowly to sit beside her, he saw that she had tears threatening to spill over her eyelids. She turned to face him, "Devin?" she whispered.
"Yeah?" he said back, whispering as well.
She opened her mouth, wanting to form words, but they didn't come easily. "Just please don't say 'I told you so'." she said, biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
He shook his head before wrapping his arms around her, "I never would." he said as his little sister cried into him. He let his mind wonder while her tears soaked through his shirt and hit his chest. He wondered what kind of hold Tristan had over his sister that he made her cry like this. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her cry before meeting Tristan, and now her emotions were in a constant whirlwind, but Devin knew that she'd needed Tristan. Rory sat slowly back up to look at the window after a few minuets. Devin looked at her in surprise, her tears seemed to have stopped momentarily. "So, what did Tristan say?"
Devin froze, "What?"
"What did Tristan say?" she repeated monotone.
He played dumb, looking at her as if she were confused, "What are you talking about?"
She rested her head on the cold glass, "You're a shitty liar, Dev."
"I'm not lying."
She shook her head, "You smell like his room. I'm not stupid, Devin."
"I know. You skipped a grade."
"I'm serious, what did he say?"
He fidgeted beside her, shrugging, "We just talked."
"Obviously. But what did he say?"
Devin looked down to his hands, "He's moving."
Rory closed her eyes, "I know."
"He told you?"
Rory laughed bitterly, "He worked it in there, right along with the part about how he'd forget me, but I couldn't forget him."
Devin bit his lip, not wanting to judge either one, "I'm sorry."
Rory felt bitchy and wanted to take her anger out on someone, and seeing as how Devin was the one closest to her, he was taking the blow. "I don't want pity." she snapped.
"Good. Cause I'm not giving it." he said back. Rory looked taken aback that he'd snapped back. They sat in silence for a moment until Devin asked quietly, "Did you really believe him?"
"Obviously I did."
Devin sighed, shaking his head, "Why? You know how he feels about you."
Rory closed her eyes, "No, I THOUGHT I knew how he felt about me." she said quietly.
He groaned, "Rory, you KNOW how Tristan feels about you."
"Right, whatever."
Devin shook his head, "Rory, he loves you. And his father made him cut all ties in Boston."
Rory looked at her hands, "Well if he really loved me that much then he would at least have told me the truth."
"Would you honestly have been able to let go?"
Rory shot him a look that said plainly 'don't go there.' Before laying her forehead back on the window.
"Look, I'm not about to pretend that I always wanted you and Tristan to be together, because I didn't. I didn't want my little sister dating the player. I didn't want you to fall for him unless he fell too, and he did. No one thought you two stood a chance in the beginning. But you two fit, you beat the odds, and hell, we're only in ninth grade, but who says people our age can't be in love Rory? I never saw it coming, I never thought either of you would ever fall in love, but you did."
She kept looking to the window as the rain started, "A lot of people say we can't fall in love at our age." she whispered.
"But you did Rory, you did. And I'll be damned if my little sister and best friend throw away what they could have had because of what the world thinks."
Rory shook her head sadly and said in a quiet voice, "It's not what the world thinks. It's what he thinks. It's the fact that he thought it was important enough to break up with me. Devin, you know me better than to say that I care what people think of me. It's what Tristan thinks needed to be done, and he did it."
"There's no way he meant it!"
She faced him, tears streaming down her face, "You know, I didn't want to believe it either. But if you could have seen him...Devin, his eyes were empty. There was nothing there. No emotion. If you could have heard what he said then you would have believed him too."
"My God Rory! Don't be so naive! You know perfectly well how society works. You know that for years he's worn a mask. In fact, you saw it when you first came. He puts on a facade for the world, to make them think he's fine and can't feel. But you know better Rory, you know him. He let the wall around his heart fall with you, you saw him and you loved him, YOU know who he is. You've seen him vulnerable and you accepted his weaknesses, strengthening him, and he saved you from your demons. You two have something that you can't just ignore and push to the side. It's something bigger than you. Tristan dropped his guard and let you in, and when you accepted the offer you signed something in blood. He's your first love, your his. That won't just go away."
Rory's eyes darkened, "And Michelle."
"What are you talking about?"
"He let his guard down with Michelle and let her in too."
Devin shook his head, "Did you listen to anything I said?"
"Yes I did, but it's obvious that he let his guard down with her too!"
"Okay, look, I'm going to say this and you will be quiet and listen to me. No rolling your eyes or cutting me off, all right?"
She nodded, "Sure."
"Okay, now listen: Tristan dated Michelle, as you know. He NEVER said he loved her. You know that too. There was a false rumor that he never bothered to correct because to Tristan, Michelle wasn't even worth the trouble. She was gone, moved to Georgia and he was left to be a victim of the rumor mill, like he always was. I mean Rory, you've heard rumors around here, and if the rumor has to do with someone getting laid, who takes the fall? Who's blow is three times worse? The more popular one, right?" she nodded, wondering where he was going. "Well guess what? Tristan was more popular than Michelle. She said she loved him, but we all knew it was a lie. She was drunk and wanted something solid, and she thought that if she fell in love with him, then Tristan would be the rock in her life. Well, he didn't love her and she was trying to make herself fall in love with him in the process. It didn't work. He never said it to her, all right? He never let her in. You got that?" she nodded again. "Now, Ror, let me ask you a question: Who said 'I love you' first, you or Tristan?" he stopped, showing her he was done and waiting for an answer.
She opened her mouth and let it hang for a moment, "Tristan."
Devin smiled, "Exactly. In Tristan's eyes, Michelle was nothing compared to you. He really does love you , Rory. He's doing this because he's confused and doesn't know what other option he has. But I swear to you, you were never a conquest to him. I know for a fact he's told you more than he's told me, and I've known him for years. You're something special." he finished with a smile, wanting to uplift Rory's spirits. She smiled, it looked real, but it was just another trick she'd learned from being the proud granddaughter of two of the most respected families in New England. She'd even gotten so good she could have fooled almost anyone, except Devin, and Tristan.
Her brother pursed his lips sadly and kissed her forehead, "Hey, so, I have a project due tomorrow, but I'll come by your room and talk to you tonight, okay?" She closed her eyes and nodded as Devin got up and hugged her briefly before walking upstairs.
Rory wasn't sure how much longer she'd sat there, who knew? It could have been anywhere from fifteen minuets to two hours. Time passes at a strange pace when you're reminiscing. She sighed and stood up, her body protesting at the movement. Apparently she'd been sitting here for longer than she thought, because according to the clock on the mantle, it was 12:30am. Rory rubbed her eyes and looked again. It read the same. She shook her head and exited the room.
Her feet trudged slowly up the stairs. Her legs seemed detached from her body, she glanced at her feet and didn't recognize them. They didn't belong to her. Something was wrong. These were happy feet. She wasn't happy. You could tell things about people by their feet. If the feet looked worn and blistered, they were athletes. If they were pedicured and smooth, most likely a nice teenage girl was the owner. Her own, or rather, the ones attached to this strange body, which wasn't hers either, looked like happy feet. They were pale, like the rest if the skin covering her weak and drained body. They were small, in proportion with her petite form. But they were not blistered or callused, which was how she was feeling.
Rory looked into a mirror in the hall and saw the strangest thing. Herself. Was this what it was like to have an out of body experience? She saw a thin girl staring back at her. The girl was barefoot and had on a pair of pink pajama pants with Rainbow Brite scattered over them. She was wearing a white tank top with a large rainbow on the front. The girl's hair was long and the color of dark chocolate, except for where purple was easier seen. Rory stared at this reflection and the girl in the mirror stared back. The silver chain reflected in the mirror glinted in a dim light, cast from the small music box sitting on a table as decoration, leaving half of the mirror girl in shadow.
Most people didn't like the dark, even if they weren't scared of it. They preferred to have light, because you never know what is lurking until you see it, or rather, until it wants you to see it. But she wasn't scared. Little children believed in monsters, teenagers didn't like to not know what was going on when they couldn't see. And adults...what were adults scared of? She decided it really didn't matter what adults were afraid of. If something scared you, then the dark always knew a way to find it, no matter how deep it was buried into your brain. It would be pulled from the abandoned chambers where you stored unwanted information, and your own mind would betray you. Turn against you and torment you until you were crying for the release of sleep.
No, the dark was not something that she believed people would have chosen to create, if it hadn't been here already. In fact, wasn't it probable that darkness was created before light? and if so, wouldn't that make it older? Darkness was older than time itself, and it amused Rory that people thought they could escape it with artificial light. If you suddenly felt a chill run down your spine, it was because you remembered how it felt that night you couldn't sleep. You lay in bed, scared to move, for fear that whatever was in the dark was waiting for you. You remembered that instant of terror when your own mind betrayed you and released your darkest fear to the night, and tormented you, that one moment when you decided death was better than not knowing what lay just beyond the small circle that the green numbers of your clock illuminated.
But Rory didn't mind the dark right now, she may have preferred light, but at the moment, the dark didn't bother her, because she always figured, if she can't see in the dark, why should whatever was in it be able to? If the darkness prevented her from finding a light switch, what justified the fact that her fear was able to find her? She had reasoned that long ago, and she'd stuck to it.
Once more she studied the girl in the mirror. Her face was one of pain. The skin was unnaturally pale and around the eyes it was swollen. Her sapphire eyes were surrounded by the red of bloodshot. She surveyed the smeared eyeliner the girl hadn't taken off before she'd started crying by the looks of it. Mascara left thick lines of black where the girl's tears had fallen. The eye shadow was long forgotten by rubbing hands, trying to dry the constant tears. She sighed and shook her head, wondering what had happened to the girl. To her surprise, she girl's head shook too, as if she felt sorry for the girl on the other side of the mirror, Rory. Rory's head tilted, identical to the movement the girl made. And to her surprise and horror, she realized something. The girl standing in the mirror was her. It was her own eyes which were bloodshot and swollen. Her own eyeliner and mascara were smeared from crying. She had a face laced with pain, worthy of bringing tears from anyone.
Suddenly she felt very small and scared, wanting to back away from this image that couldn't possibly be her. She wanted to forget she'd ever seen it. All at once the darkness rushed in at her and she was surrounded by the pure terror of it. She felt her spine shrivel and wanted to fall back onto a bed where she could be protected by warm covers. Her own mind had betrayed her secret to the dark. And her fear could see in the dark.
Rory was overwhelmed with a sense of being watch and her mind tried to go blank, but she held it in place. She just needed to get down the hall, and she'd be safe in her room. But in order to get there, she'd have to go through twenty five feet of darkness, and twenty five feet didn't seem like much, but when your demons were bloodthirsty and only you could quench their desire, twenty five feet was a journey, and a deadly one. Rory slowly counted to five before bolting down the hall, running headlong into hordes of mental horrors. She had to remove the thing that held her captive, the thing that was like a magnet to her nightmares, the only thing that she'd recognized in that strange reflection. A thin, silver chain hanging from her neck.
Some things have to be believed to be seen.- Ralph Hodgson
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Devin walked back into the house to find that Erin had left. Rory was sitting on the window seat in the library, staring out at the stars. He walked slowly to sit beside her, he saw that she had tears threatening to spill over her eyelids. She turned to face him, "Devin?" she whispered.
"Yeah?" he said back, whispering as well.
She opened her mouth, wanting to form words, but they didn't come easily. "Just please don't say 'I told you so'." she said, biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
He shook his head before wrapping his arms around her, "I never would." he said as his little sister cried into him. He let his mind wonder while her tears soaked through his shirt and hit his chest. He wondered what kind of hold Tristan had over his sister that he made her cry like this. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her cry before meeting Tristan, and now her emotions were in a constant whirlwind, but Devin knew that she'd needed Tristan. Rory sat slowly back up to look at the window after a few minuets. Devin looked at her in surprise, her tears seemed to have stopped momentarily. "So, what did Tristan say?"
Devin froze, "What?"
"What did Tristan say?" she repeated monotone.
He played dumb, looking at her as if she were confused, "What are you talking about?"
She rested her head on the cold glass, "You're a shitty liar, Dev."
"I'm not lying."
She shook her head, "You smell like his room. I'm not stupid, Devin."
"I know. You skipped a grade."
"I'm serious, what did he say?"
He fidgeted beside her, shrugging, "We just talked."
"Obviously. But what did he say?"
Devin looked down to his hands, "He's moving."
Rory closed her eyes, "I know."
"He told you?"
Rory laughed bitterly, "He worked it in there, right along with the part about how he'd forget me, but I couldn't forget him."
Devin bit his lip, not wanting to judge either one, "I'm sorry."
Rory felt bitchy and wanted to take her anger out on someone, and seeing as how Devin was the one closest to her, he was taking the blow. "I don't want pity." she snapped.
"Good. Cause I'm not giving it." he said back. Rory looked taken aback that he'd snapped back. They sat in silence for a moment until Devin asked quietly, "Did you really believe him?"
"Obviously I did."
Devin sighed, shaking his head, "Why? You know how he feels about you."
Rory closed her eyes, "No, I THOUGHT I knew how he felt about me." she said quietly.
He groaned, "Rory, you KNOW how Tristan feels about you."
"Right, whatever."
Devin shook his head, "Rory, he loves you. And his father made him cut all ties in Boston."
Rory looked at her hands, "Well if he really loved me that much then he would at least have told me the truth."
"Would you honestly have been able to let go?"
Rory shot him a look that said plainly 'don't go there.' Before laying her forehead back on the window.
"Look, I'm not about to pretend that I always wanted you and Tristan to be together, because I didn't. I didn't want my little sister dating the player. I didn't want you to fall for him unless he fell too, and he did. No one thought you two stood a chance in the beginning. But you two fit, you beat the odds, and hell, we're only in ninth grade, but who says people our age can't be in love Rory? I never saw it coming, I never thought either of you would ever fall in love, but you did."
She kept looking to the window as the rain started, "A lot of people say we can't fall in love at our age." she whispered.
"But you did Rory, you did. And I'll be damned if my little sister and best friend throw away what they could have had because of what the world thinks."
Rory shook her head sadly and said in a quiet voice, "It's not what the world thinks. It's what he thinks. It's the fact that he thought it was important enough to break up with me. Devin, you know me better than to say that I care what people think of me. It's what Tristan thinks needed to be done, and he did it."
"There's no way he meant it!"
She faced him, tears streaming down her face, "You know, I didn't want to believe it either. But if you could have seen him...Devin, his eyes were empty. There was nothing there. No emotion. If you could have heard what he said then you would have believed him too."
"My God Rory! Don't be so naive! You know perfectly well how society works. You know that for years he's worn a mask. In fact, you saw it when you first came. He puts on a facade for the world, to make them think he's fine and can't feel. But you know better Rory, you know him. He let the wall around his heart fall with you, you saw him and you loved him, YOU know who he is. You've seen him vulnerable and you accepted his weaknesses, strengthening him, and he saved you from your demons. You two have something that you can't just ignore and push to the side. It's something bigger than you. Tristan dropped his guard and let you in, and when you accepted the offer you signed something in blood. He's your first love, your his. That won't just go away."
Rory's eyes darkened, "And Michelle."
"What are you talking about?"
"He let his guard down with Michelle and let her in too."
Devin shook his head, "Did you listen to anything I said?"
"Yes I did, but it's obvious that he let his guard down with her too!"
"Okay, look, I'm going to say this and you will be quiet and listen to me. No rolling your eyes or cutting me off, all right?"
She nodded, "Sure."
"Okay, now listen: Tristan dated Michelle, as you know. He NEVER said he loved her. You know that too. There was a false rumor that he never bothered to correct because to Tristan, Michelle wasn't even worth the trouble. She was gone, moved to Georgia and he was left to be a victim of the rumor mill, like he always was. I mean Rory, you've heard rumors around here, and if the rumor has to do with someone getting laid, who takes the fall? Who's blow is three times worse? The more popular one, right?" she nodded, wondering where he was going. "Well guess what? Tristan was more popular than Michelle. She said she loved him, but we all knew it was a lie. She was drunk and wanted something solid, and she thought that if she fell in love with him, then Tristan would be the rock in her life. Well, he didn't love her and she was trying to make herself fall in love with him in the process. It didn't work. He never said it to her, all right? He never let her in. You got that?" she nodded again. "Now, Ror, let me ask you a question: Who said 'I love you' first, you or Tristan?" he stopped, showing her he was done and waiting for an answer.
She opened her mouth and let it hang for a moment, "Tristan."
Devin smiled, "Exactly. In Tristan's eyes, Michelle was nothing compared to you. He really does love you , Rory. He's doing this because he's confused and doesn't know what other option he has. But I swear to you, you were never a conquest to him. I know for a fact he's told you more than he's told me, and I've known him for years. You're something special." he finished with a smile, wanting to uplift Rory's spirits. She smiled, it looked real, but it was just another trick she'd learned from being the proud granddaughter of two of the most respected families in New England. She'd even gotten so good she could have fooled almost anyone, except Devin, and Tristan.
Her brother pursed his lips sadly and kissed her forehead, "Hey, so, I have a project due tomorrow, but I'll come by your room and talk to you tonight, okay?" She closed her eyes and nodded as Devin got up and hugged her briefly before walking upstairs.
Rory wasn't sure how much longer she'd sat there, who knew? It could have been anywhere from fifteen minuets to two hours. Time passes at a strange pace when you're reminiscing. She sighed and stood up, her body protesting at the movement. Apparently she'd been sitting here for longer than she thought, because according to the clock on the mantle, it was 12:30am. Rory rubbed her eyes and looked again. It read the same. She shook her head and exited the room.
Her feet trudged slowly up the stairs. Her legs seemed detached from her body, she glanced at her feet and didn't recognize them. They didn't belong to her. Something was wrong. These were happy feet. She wasn't happy. You could tell things about people by their feet. If the feet looked worn and blistered, they were athletes. If they were pedicured and smooth, most likely a nice teenage girl was the owner. Her own, or rather, the ones attached to this strange body, which wasn't hers either, looked like happy feet. They were pale, like the rest if the skin covering her weak and drained body. They were small, in proportion with her petite form. But they were not blistered or callused, which was how she was feeling.
Rory looked into a mirror in the hall and saw the strangest thing. Herself. Was this what it was like to have an out of body experience? She saw a thin girl staring back at her. The girl was barefoot and had on a pair of pink pajama pants with Rainbow Brite scattered over them. She was wearing a white tank top with a large rainbow on the front. The girl's hair was long and the color of dark chocolate, except for where purple was easier seen. Rory stared at this reflection and the girl in the mirror stared back. The silver chain reflected in the mirror glinted in a dim light, cast from the small music box sitting on a table as decoration, leaving half of the mirror girl in shadow.
Most people didn't like the dark, even if they weren't scared of it. They preferred to have light, because you never know what is lurking until you see it, or rather, until it wants you to see it. But she wasn't scared. Little children believed in monsters, teenagers didn't like to not know what was going on when they couldn't see. And adults...what were adults scared of? She decided it really didn't matter what adults were afraid of. If something scared you, then the dark always knew a way to find it, no matter how deep it was buried into your brain. It would be pulled from the abandoned chambers where you stored unwanted information, and your own mind would betray you. Turn against you and torment you until you were crying for the release of sleep.
No, the dark was not something that she believed people would have chosen to create, if it hadn't been here already. In fact, wasn't it probable that darkness was created before light? and if so, wouldn't that make it older? Darkness was older than time itself, and it amused Rory that people thought they could escape it with artificial light. If you suddenly felt a chill run down your spine, it was because you remembered how it felt that night you couldn't sleep. You lay in bed, scared to move, for fear that whatever was in the dark was waiting for you. You remembered that instant of terror when your own mind betrayed you and released your darkest fear to the night, and tormented you, that one moment when you decided death was better than not knowing what lay just beyond the small circle that the green numbers of your clock illuminated.
But Rory didn't mind the dark right now, she may have preferred light, but at the moment, the dark didn't bother her, because she always figured, if she can't see in the dark, why should whatever was in it be able to? If the darkness prevented her from finding a light switch, what justified the fact that her fear was able to find her? She had reasoned that long ago, and she'd stuck to it.
Once more she studied the girl in the mirror. Her face was one of pain. The skin was unnaturally pale and around the eyes it was swollen. Her sapphire eyes were surrounded by the red of bloodshot. She surveyed the smeared eyeliner the girl hadn't taken off before she'd started crying by the looks of it. Mascara left thick lines of black where the girl's tears had fallen. The eye shadow was long forgotten by rubbing hands, trying to dry the constant tears. She sighed and shook her head, wondering what had happened to the girl. To her surprise, she girl's head shook too, as if she felt sorry for the girl on the other side of the mirror, Rory. Rory's head tilted, identical to the movement the girl made. And to her surprise and horror, she realized something. The girl standing in the mirror was her. It was her own eyes which were bloodshot and swollen. Her own eyeliner and mascara were smeared from crying. She had a face laced with pain, worthy of bringing tears from anyone.
Suddenly she felt very small and scared, wanting to back away from this image that couldn't possibly be her. She wanted to forget she'd ever seen it. All at once the darkness rushed in at her and she was surrounded by the pure terror of it. She felt her spine shrivel and wanted to fall back onto a bed where she could be protected by warm covers. Her own mind had betrayed her secret to the dark. And her fear could see in the dark.
Rory was overwhelmed with a sense of being watch and her mind tried to go blank, but she held it in place. She just needed to get down the hall, and she'd be safe in her room. But in order to get there, she'd have to go through twenty five feet of darkness, and twenty five feet didn't seem like much, but when your demons were bloodthirsty and only you could quench their desire, twenty five feet was a journey, and a deadly one. Rory slowly counted to five before bolting down the hall, running headlong into hordes of mental horrors. She had to remove the thing that held her captive, the thing that was like a magnet to her nightmares, the only thing that she'd recognized in that strange reflection. A thin, silver chain hanging from her neck.