Chapter 17: One Final Glimpse into the Past
I fell.
The door slammed shut behind me after I had entered the darkness, and I felt the comfort of gravity dissipating little by little until it became nonexistent.
I hated this.
I fell without knowing what was going on around me, and the new world I had been sent to seemed to scream as well. I let out one final scream of altogether hopelessness, and then finally landed-- flat on my face. Smooth landing, Beatrice-- I thought to myself, "Ow," I breathed, feeling the grainy roof of my mouth. I spat out a small bit of sand, and judging by the somewhat harsh glare of the sun in the sky, at first believed myself to have been sent to a second desert. Only after realizing that so many trees could have never grown in such close succession in such places, and the fact that there was never grass, did I stand and take a look around me to see where I now was.
I stared around the small enclosure of sand where I had landed, and marveled at what it was… a simple sandbox. Something I had not seen the likes of in years; Why has Elaine sent me here? I wondered, for what seemed the millionth time in a mere couple of days…
I heard sounds; childish laughter screams of delight. The child seemed so very happy, but something about today was not right. Something was obviously amiss in the fleeting perfection that was the park-- for that's where I obviously was now… Although nothing out of the ordinary was taking place, I somehow sensed that something dark was about to being-- I hate that fucking feeling. It scares the shit out of me-- it can end up being worse than the aftermath, but being the person I am, it can end up being dead helpful in the end.
The little girl continued to scream whatever she was screaming, and I strained my ears to decipher what the hell was being shouted so loudly and happily by the little thing. Her words were not lost in the fierce wind-- not cut off by an angered adult. She was a child; only a child could utter that sound in such a high-pitched way, and at her age, she would not be reprimanded. Not in a million years. I smiled to myself. I had not heard such happiness in quite a while; memories of my own childhood seeped into my mind. Carla, Jenny (before she became a two-faced phony whore), and other long-forgotten friends. Untroubled, smiling children who made their elders a bit happier. Birthday parties, schoolwork that involved little or no thought-- childhood; how long ago it now seemed.
"Daddy!" the small girl was screaming in the near distance, and as I blinked several more small grains of sand out of my watery eyes, the gleeful laughter intensified, and the giddy girl came into view. Her dark hair-- obviously cut short in preparation for a hot and sticky Californian summer had a small scrunchie in it-- obviously her favorite color, as her tee-shirt was a dark blue as well. Her lips were a deep red, and her face pale and dotted with small freckles-- though the freckles were likely to vanish during puberty, and the skin darken as she matured. She was a shell of the woman she would become; But who is she? That's what I truly longed to know. Her face was a little dirty; covered in either dark mud-- maybe ice cream. I had forgotten the temperature. I followed the girl with my eyes until she stopped in front of the man who was obviously her father. My heart froze; it was my father, which meant-- "Don't go anywhere out of my sight, Beatrice," my father warned the child gently, trying his best to clean the mess off of her-- my face. I beamed at the sight of them; a scene from the glorious past-- although try as I might, I simply could not remember it. There was something so very surreal about this "memory." Although it obviously involved me to some degree, I had no recollection. I stared at the duo, and wondered.
I paused in attempts to place the park as the little girl and her father came closer and closer. Then it hit me just like a ton of bricks. The park-- or at least that's what I had called it up until I was ten. Shadyside Hills Park. I smiled, as warm memories flooded back to me (I was still unable to place this one), but nonetheless, I remembered jungle-gyms, swing-sets, and sandcastles that had been so amazing to build, and so depressing to leave behind. Shadyside Hills Park; I had not been there since the age of fourteen when I had snuck out of the house to avoid Jacqueline. Carla and I had stayed under a pair of oak trees with a warm blanket for almost four hours just talking until a bitter storm came and we were forced to walk each other home. I stared at the other Beatrice as she promptly ran from her-- my father, and dove into the sandbox. I stared at the former, untroubled Beatrice as she promptly began a sand castle- her favorite activity from the ages of four to seven. It was so ironic that here I was, watching her, knowing everything about her future-- and how devastating it would eventually become. Right about now, she knew nothing about backstabbing friends, heartbreak, or death. She was so damn lucky; I longed to reach out and grab her-- to take her away from this place, and at least attempt to erase the horrible future that lay in store for her. Changing everything, and obliterating my "destiny" from having ever existed.
But instead, I could only sit beside her and watch; icy chills were sent up my spine each time she giggled-- each time she beamed to herself; proud of her creation that would be destroyed by nightfall.
She-- I could be no more than six or seven years old. Why have I been sent here? The question was now beginning to vex me; would it ever be answered-- by anyone?
Who knew?
Suddenly, Beatrice stared directly at me-- not at me, exactly, but at something. I turned my back to her, just as the black cat jumped into the sandbox and approached the younger version of myself. "Don't," I murmured, trying to remember this incident happening. The scar on my left arm twanged painfully, "Bea. Honey. Don't," my father was warning, and before it actually happened, I remembered everything. Lying in a small hospital room, being watched over by about seven nurses and doctors for signs of rabies… The scar; that Jessica girl had asked me about it quite a while ago back in D'Nalge, as had that community worker just recently at the soup kitchen. I had told each of them that how it had happened to me was a complete mystery-- not nicely, of course, and now, I at last remembered.
The cat leapt into Beatrice's arms, and instantly began to purr as it had with my mother. Then the inevitable came; four angry red streaks appeared on her left arm, one of which would remain forever, and as the dark blood began to ooze out, she began to scream as did her father. The cat hastened to lap up the blood flowing from the wounds onto her greedy tongue. My father almost instantly leapt into the sandbox as he had been a mere few feet away, and the cat darted away to avoid him. Without another word said, he grabbed the screaming child out of the sandbox and began running in the other direction.
I stared at the scar upon my arm once again; remembering the fear of being infected with rabies, although I did not know what it was at the time, and an endless amount of stitches; all the while wondering how I could have possibly forgotten the traumas relating to the scar.
"Come, Beatrice…" a calm voice was now whispering, "There is time for words now…"