BATTERIES 03
"I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there'll always be the person I am tonight."
The crisp cool air hits me the second I set foot out of the cafe; I look down the noisy street, searching for the boy, even for the girl and blonde haired boy, just for someone to tell me what the hell is going on. I can't ignore it anymore, I can't pretend what I see is just my imagination anymore, I can't keep lying to myself.
I walk down the street for a while; I wrap my arms around myself as a shiver passes through me, though this time not out of fear. I realise I have left my jacket in the cafe, I shiver again.
I pass an alleyway, from the artificial glow of the street lights I can just about make out the shadows of two people. I duck behind a corner as the voices drift into earshot, pressing my back against a brick wall.
"Simon, she's just doesn't understand, she sees what you are, not who you are. There's a difference...maybe if she got to know you..."
Are they talking about me?
It's the boy's voice. "Clary did you see the look on her face when I was walking towards her? Did you see the look on her face earlier at school?"
Yes, they are.
A pause. "No Simon, I didn't but she doesn't see you-"
She's cut off. "She sees me as a monster, which is exactly what she damn well should see me as."
"You're not a monster. You're not like Raphael and his clan."
A shiver passes over me.
"Yet, Clary. They've given in into their cravings, how can you know I won't do the same? How do you know that someday I won't be like them?"
"Because you're Simon," her voice breaks.
He sighs. "Sometimes I am. Other times I'm not, do you know what I wanted to do to her?" The girl, Clary doesn't reply. "I wanted to rip her throat open, spill her blood and drink it. It took everything I had to stop myself from doing it for-" he breaks off. "Now, Clary tell me I'm not a monster."
My throat closes up. I want to run, everything inside me is screaming to run away, to get away from Simon, to get away from the equally terrible and beautiful things I see, to get away from this God forsaken world.
"This is all my fault Simon-"
I don't want to hear anymore, I don't think I can.
When I get back into the cafe, the boy from earlier, Eric is reading what I assume to be poetry I glance around, everyone appears to be either disturbed or amused but I don't listen to the poetry, I need to find Tyler.
I rush over to our table; Tyler doesn't even look up from his untouched coffee as I sit down muttering apologies.
"Tyler, I'm sorry." I'm not even shocked when no reply comes. So I merely sit there, holding back the tears that trying to escape, but I can't let them, not here, not in front of Tyler. My head falls into my hands, and I keep it there and I let the tears flow, each running down my face and then falling on to the wooden table, as if like real rain drops.
After a few minutes of listening to Eric's dreadful poetry, I pull my head out of my hands and wipe away the remaining tears, just as I do, Tyler's head snaps up, his eyes burning. He is glaring at me the same way he was at Simon; I look down as a stab of pain hits me in the stomach.
"What the hell was that all about, Lesley?" He says, banging his hands on the wooden table, knocking the small flower on it over.
"Nothing, please just forget it." I mutter, fighting back the tears. "I really don't want to talk about it, ok?"
He opens his mouth to say something, probably a sarcastic comment or something tainted with anger, but in a split-second he snaps it shut again. Instead he says, "Ok, whatever." Then mutters something about how hard it is to be my best friend. I try to block it out.
"You can't just run off like that, it isn't safe." Tyler says after what felt like hours of silence, his fierce blue eyes glowering into mine.
"I was fine," I whisper, casting my eyes down to the table in a feeble attempt to avoid his gaze. But it doesn't matter; I can still feel his eyes cutting through me like daggers. "I don't know what came over me; I guess I just needed some space."
"Lesley," he murmurs, his voice is softer now, gentler this time. I hear the table creak as he leans over and laces his hand in mine. "I don't care if you ignore every blasted thing I say after this, but I need you to listen to me just this once, okay? Lesley, look at me." A shiver runs through me as his skin brushes against mine as he props my chin up with his index finger. "Stay the hell away from Simon, he's dangerous. Those drugs did more than just make him paler," I open my mouth to say something in reply, but he merely moves his index finger to my lips, "you cannot trust him Lesley."
I need some air. I tell Tyler I need to get away from here, that I need to breathe; I tell him that I'll be waiting outside for him. After fighting off his vicious protests, I finally make it out the door.
I hear the bell ring again as I step out of the cafe, the cool air hits me like a whip this time, this time I do not fight back the tears, there's no one around and except for the cars whizzing by, carrying a large gusts of wind with them. Numerous charity shops and antique shops line the streets, this part in Brooklyn is often dead at this time of night, but I can't help but think that I'm not alone.
I shiver and realise that yet again I've left my jacket back in the café, however a small voice deep inside me murmurs, maybe you'd be shivering whether you had the jacket or not, I can't help but agree. There was something sinister in the way the wind was howling, the deadly silence of the street, the shadows that lurked behind the yellow light of streetlamps.
And then, in matter of seconds I'm being slammed against a wall.
"Going somewhere, Mundie?" It's the blonde-haired boy, though up close his hair seems more golden, they match his eyes – and in a way, his skin. He pulls a small knife and lets it briefly caress my throat; drops of my blood splatter the floor. "Don't move a muscle."
My entire body tenses up in fear. I can't breathe.
"I know you can see this world for what it really is. And trust me, that's not a good thing. Not if you get found out." I look him straight in the eyes; his aren't laced with tears, unlike mine. Cold air hits my neck and it begins to sting; even though the blade still rests against it.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He coos softly. I don't believe him. He still hasn't removed the blade from neck. He is looking at me curiously. I think he is expecting me to reply. But I don't. I won't. He sighs, probably figuring out that I won't reply. "Listen, you need to keep your knowledge of the Shadow World a secret. I'm probably supposed to bring you to the institute but it looks like you've managed to get on unrecognised up until now, so you should be fine."
It's real. That horrible world I've been seeing is real. Those terrible and beautiful faeries are real. A shiver creeps up spine. I want to scream.
"Don't scream." He says, as if he's read my mind. For all I know now he could have. "Listen to me, ok? You need to make sure you're armed at all times, take self defence lessons, don't go out at night without someone and defiantly don't go out at night without a knife." I shudder. "You know the drill, but now you need to follow it. What I'm saying is that you need to be cautious, very cautious because this world that you can see, as much as you hate to believe it, is real."
The blade is pulled from my neck; it is stained with blood, my blood. But he doesn't move.
"I hope we do not meet again, Lesley." And with that he fades into the shadows.
The wind whirls around me, causing my hair to flare up in to my eyes; it makes what little trees there are, rock viciously from side to side in such a way that makes me wonder why they haven't been ripped from their sheaths yet.
I don't move. I touch my neck. Scarlet blood stains my fingers. It had happened, it was real. It wasn't my imagination. I try my best not to scream. It's all real; everything I've seen is real. I know I need to avoid Simon at all costs, I was planning to anyway but I need to be extra careful because whatever that world is, he is most defiantly a part of it.
"Hey Lesley, are you ok?" A voice says, starling me. It's Tyler. He catches my expression. I don't reply, people are starting to filter out of the coffee shop; Eric's dreadful reading must be over. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He pauses. "You're shaking. Are you cold?"
I am shaking, but it's not from the cold. But I nod anyway.
He hands me my jacket, I shrug it on. It's warm and lined with Tyler's familiar musky scent but it doesn't stop me from shaking.
"Come on, let's get you home." He whispers, wrapping his arms around me. He touches my neck. Scarlet blood now stains his fingers too. "What-"
"I really don't want to talk about it." I say in a barely audible voice, I press a finger to his lips, just in case he didn't hear. "Please, I just want to go home."
"Was it-" for a moment, I swear that his eyes flashed yellow again, but it can't have. I sigh after everything that's gone on tonight, I must be hallucinating.
He pulls my hand away from his lips, though he doesn't let go of it, instead he pulls it close to his chest, close to his heart. He holds our gaze. "Ok." Tyler whispers, his warm breath pinches at my skin, I shudder again.
I feel safer now that Tyler is here, but as he leads me to his car, I can't help but glance over my shoulder to make sure that no one's there, following me.
Author's Note.
Hello again! I hope you guys liked this chapter! For those of you who've read Figments, this one is rather similar, but don't worry! It will get quite different in later Chapters, especially next one! Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/added this to their alerts! Please do review and let me know what you think, as I'm always looking to improve!