Chapter Three

Darkened Days

All I saw was blackness. No hint of light. No relief. There was nothing at all to pull me from the depths of my inner sorrow. I wanted to scream. To break free of the invisible bonds which were tying me to my own, private version of hell. Yet, I had no strength, nothing to grab hold of. Nothing. There was nothing I wanted outside of this dark world; the world of light held nothing apart from fear, sadness, remorse and destruction of those I loved. Here, nothing could harm them, could harm me. I relaxed and sunk, if it was possible, further into the darkness.

The darkness was turning misty. There seemed to be an opening that was letting out light. I found myself cringing away from the light. I didn't want to go back, I liked death better.

The light was becoming unbearable. It was too bright and it shone through my closed eyelids in colours of red. It hurt my eyes. I squeezed my eyes tighter trying to stay in the darkness. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? I began to panic. I wasn't ready to go back, I wouldn't, and I couldn't do it.

My eyes snapped open and I was back in the world of light.

I tried to sit up but a pair of hands pushed me back down.

'You must rest, you're very weak.'

I slapped at the hands angrily, I was perfectly fine. I put my hands below my hips and pushed myself up into a sitting position, I felt my pillow placed behind me for support and I grudgingly slumped back onto it. Perhaps I was more exhausted than I thought. Apparently my companion noticed by expression that I was aware of my state, even if I admitted it whilst in frustration. I heard a low chuckle and my eyes wide-eyed slightly, it was him. Why was he here? Judging from my expression he understood the un-spoken question.

'I'm here because this is my home, and you're here because you collapsed in the middle of the street and quite frankly I didn't know what else to do with you.'

I felt the tip of my nose turn pink and ducked my head to hide it.

'Thank-you' I muttered and winced slightly. My throat felt scratchy and hurt when I so much as whispered.

He noticed my grimace of pain and rose silently and went to the nightstand, judging from his rumpled clothing I knew that this had been the first time he had risen in hours. I watched him confused, why was he looking after me? I was merely an employee and not a very good one when I thought about it. He wordlessly gave me a cup of water and resumed his seat; I drank eagerly and felt the cool water soothe my aching throat. Whilst drinking I kept my eyes trained on Mr Peter Phillips, and he responded by gazing into my own. I lowered my cup slightly and licked my lips.

'Feel any better?' He inquired. I nodded in response; he took the cup and replaced it on the nightstand.

'I'll be back in a moment,' he said softly before leaving the room.

I gazed around the room, it was beautiful. The beige wallpaper complemented the burgundy rug and bedspread. A large window had the curtains slightly open and I could see that it was nearly twilight. Twilight, it was already seven in the evening! I needed to be getting home, once the clock struck eight it would be too dark, and I would have little hope of returning home safely. I swung my legs out of the bed onto the cold floor and stood slowly, my legs felt shaky and unresponsive. I took several steps forward before the floor seemed to be closer than normal I stretched out my hand and steadied myself on the nightstand, breathing heavily. Sweat dampened my brow and I raised a shaky hand to wipe away the moisture and my eyes closed as the room began to go in and out of focus.

'What are you doing?' a harsh voice demanded. I moaned in response and my legs gave out, before I hit the floor Peter caught me and swung me back into bed.

'You aren't ready yet, you're too weak,' he said angrily as he replaced the burgundy bedspread over my shoulders, 'you need rest, Ana, please listen to me.'

I opened my eyes and gazed up at him,' You called me Ana.' I said.

'That is your name, isn't it?' he asked, a little uncertainly.

'Yes, of course, it's just I, well- you see-'

'Just eat Ana,' he said placing a tray filled with several pieces of bread and bacon onto my lap. I ate in silence and watched his every move. Once I was finished he took the tray off my lap and placed it on the already cluttered nightstand.

'Why are you looking after me?' I asked.

'I know that was your friend that died on Wednesday, and I felt compelled to care for you until you were well; besides,' he added wryly,' you did collapse on top of me.

'I did not!' I replied heatedly, 'Now, I do appreciate what you have done for me Mr Phillips, but I really must be leaving.' I attempted to rise from the bed, but his hands pressed down on my shoulders and in my weakened state it was impossible to resist.

'You are not leaving this bed until tomorrow afternoon at the latest; I will not be able to forgive myself if I found you dead on the corner of this street tomorrow due to physical exhaustion. Is that understood Miss Locket?' he demanded, angrily. His words had an impact and I bowed my head in defeat. 'Good, now get some rest.' He rose to leave me to my sleep.

'Mr Phillips?' I said, he turned at the door and looked back at me, 'Thank you'

A small smile tugged at his lips as he nodded in acknowledgment before he quit the room. I smiled myself and found myself falling back into the darkness.