Save for the birds chirping softly in the trees, silence saturated the clearing. Nary a breath of wind stirred the leaves of the shrubs surrounding the meadow. Even the stream bubbling merrily across the rocks in the middle of the clearing did so noiselessly.
Carmilla didn't mind. The silence allowed her to order her thoughts. It relaxed her and let her revel in the calm solitude. The AMC movie trailers were right. Silence certainly was golden. Carmilla especially prized it since thinking had become increasingly difficult for her over the past few months when she was around people. Normally she could tune out the cacophony of voices surrounding her and focus within herself. But, she had lost that ability, though through no fault of her own. Every time she tried to find amity in public places, something invariably drew her thoughts away from their destined path to a certain woman.
Laura Hollis.
Carmilla remembered sitting outside of a tiny Parisian themed café, a newspaper flipped open to a random page. An empty cup of espresso sat next to it, dregs coating its porcelain bottom. She absentmindedly pulled apart a much too sugary chocolate éclair, occasionally placing a piece in her mouth.
(Living with Laura made Carmilla partial to chocolate.)
Carmilla glanced down at the newspaper before snorting and looking away. Worldly affairs hardly interested her nowadays. She's seen it all before. Battles won, wars lost. Queens elected, Kings disposed. History repeating itself in a never-ending cycle.
Her gaze wandered across the street, where a small girl sitting outside a bookshop studiously riffled through the pages of a gigantic tome. Carmilla looked at her disinterestedly, finding nothing remarkable. She looked like many of the college girls who populated the shops during this time of day—boringly brunette, overly hipster, and utterly unprepared for the world. Carmilla rolled her eyes and made to pull out her sketchpad. At that instant, the girl shifted her head forward, letting the sunlight catch her hair. The sight froze Carmilla. Resplendent golden rays turned those murky brown strands into a familiar honey gold, burning into Carmilla's vision. A riotous jumble of emotions roared through her body despite her best efforts to quell it.
She dropped her éclair and left.
That wasn't the only instance when Laura rather rudely intruded into Carmilla's thoughts. There was that other time when an old grandmother strolled down the street with two young children. Carmilla was lounging against the side of a closed bar, headphones hanging limply from her fingers. She watched as one child accidentally dropped his ice cream cone on the ground. He promptly sat down and started bawling. Carmilla huffed with annoyance and started to plug her headphones in, but before she could, the grandmother stopped and raised her hand. Instead of dealing him a sharp rap to the head as Carmilla expected, the old lady patted the little boy's shoulder and smiled so kindly at him that Carmilla felt a pang of jealousy. But, she would have been infinitely more jealous had she not received a similar smile from her infuriatingly lovely roommate when she spilled paint on her black top the other day.
Scheiße.
Carmilla felt irritated that a mortal girl could infiltrate her being this completely, bypassing the centuries of walls she'd built, within a mere three and a half months.
(But all the same, it was rather nice.)
Not that Carmilla thought Laura special or anything.
(Maybe that was a lie.)
I wonder if Laura has trouble thinking too, she mused.
With an extreme effort of will, Carmilla wrenched herself away from that train of thought. That's what she needed to do today. To learn how to stop thinking about Laura and to prevent Laura from gaining more of a hold on her than she had already.
Essentially, how not to fall deeper in love with Laura.
Seriously though, why did she not see it coming? She was, to say the least, a badass centuries old vampire who had decimated cities and toppled empires. She's had countless harlots on her tail and spurned all of them. How, then, could a naïve provincial girl of eighteen worm her way into Carmilla's heart and stay there?
Perhaps it is because I actually wanted her to, she murmured to herself.
No, that couldn't be it. What was the appeal in Laura? Carmilla thought her to be one of the most immature, green, and silly girls she's ever had the misfortune to meet. That, combined with an addiction to sugar and tasteless pop music, made her a disastrous combination. And, Carmilla thought she had made her distaste known.
But in between bouts of roommate wars, if Carmilla was honest with herself, Laura wasn't all that horrifying. She wasn't judgmental. Carmilla tested that one out plenty of times by eavesdropping on Laura and her friends as they talked about their stupid human problems. Laura acquitted herself admirably, lending an honest and kind ear and giving sound advice that assumed nothing.
Laura also was eager to please. She constantly wanted to get her "relationship with my roommate back on the right track so we should do something fun together!" She'd bought Carmilla soy milk (which at first made Carmilla want to laugh, but then strangely made her want to cry) and tried to say "hello" whenever she saw her around. It was sort of sweet, Carmilla had to admit.
Laura also had this fanatical obsession with helping people that Carmilla found both annoying and endearing. Laura would buy a bag of burgers and go around handing them out to the homeless who populated the college town surrounding Silas. Carmilla didn't even realize what she was doing as she handed burgers to an old man leaning against the wall of a popular diner until he thanked her by kissing her hand. Afterwards, she had to terrorize a group of freshmen to try to get her street cred back. But the damage was done.
Laura inadvertently made her want to be a better person.
Carmilla forcibly reminded herself that the reason why she spent so much time around Laura was because Laura certainly was a good choice for a rebound after Danny.
(That thought actually made her feel sick.)
Using Laura just didn't feel right. And that worried Carmilla. Because that probably meant Carmilla actually felt something for Laura.
Seriously, what's wrong with me, Carmilla muttered in her head, frustrated that this was one aspect of her life that she absolutely needed to control yet had no control over.
"Something bothering you Kitty?" a male voice drawled.
Carmilla rolled her eyes and pushed her hand through her hair, outwardly appearing disaffected. Inwardly, a spike of fear drove its way through her brain. When did he get here? I didn't even hear him come.
"The only thing wrong with me right now is the fact that you're in my clearing, Will."
Will chuckled and stepped out from behind a tree, advancing slowly toward Carmilla. She stood up with a feline grace, muscles tensed in anticipation.
"Be careful Kitty. Don't want to let your temper get the best of you," he cautioned.
Carmilla scoffed and thrust her hands in her leather jacket pockets. Will stopped right in front of her, his fetid breath overpowering her senses. She noticed he wore an extremely tight fitting muscle top that looked like it was painted onto his torso. That annoyed her. Why bother even wearing a top then? Just take off your God damned shirt.
"What do you want, Will?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to come say hi to my darling sister."
"Very funny. Cut the crap and spit it out."
He narrowed his eyes before abandoning his pretenses.
"Stone cannot love flesh."
She flashed him half a grin, exposing one fang.
"It's not like I haven't heard that one before. Did you come up with it on your own? No, wait, let me guess. You're too dumb to do that so you got it from Mother."
Will curled his hands into fists before relaxing and smiling back, baring his fangs as well.
"Yeah, I got it from Mother. I understand that was the last thing Ell heard before—"
Carmilla backhanded him across the face before he could finish. He flew across the clearing and landed against the base of a tree, crumpling to the ground. This time, she was the one to advance towards him, hands tensed like claws and bloodlust in her eyes.
"If you want to live, don't you ever say that name again. Do you hear me?" she screamed, reaching down and hoisting him into the air by his throat.
Will gurgled and wrestled with her iron fingers, desperately trying to squirm free. She relaxed her hold a tiny bit, allowing him to speak.
"You can't kill me. Otherwise Mother will kill you," he sputtered.
"I wish to die."
Will paused and looked down at her, cocking an eyebrow knowingly.
"No, you don't."
"Do not presume to tell me what I value."
"I'm not. You wouldn't want to die because then, you can't protect her."
Carmilla's insides turned into ice.
No.
Will continued to struggle in vain, trying to break her fingers.
No. No. No.
His soundless gasps fell on her dead ears.
Is this what it feels like to drown?
Will kicked at her, his blows barely registering.
She cannot have her.
Carmilla dropped Will onto the ground. He gagged and rubbed his throat as she stared over his head. Brushing dirt from his pants, he slowly got up, smirking the entire time. He straightened and squeezed her shoulder painfully, sinking his nails deep into her skin.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
He smiled again when she did not deign to respond. Tauntingly, Will released her. He winked roguishly before stepping away, slowly backing into the dense tree line.
"Remember what's important Kitty."
And then he was gone.
Carmilla waited, her feet rooted to the ground. Cold drops of rain started to fall from the cloud-covered sky, pelting her relentlessly. They felt warm on her frozen body. Soft, like kisses from the lips she once loved.
Was William jesting?
She felt the bile rise in her throat. She bent over and retched.
How did Mother know?
The cold came now. Carmilla shivered violently, dry heaves wracking her body.
I have become lax.
She collapsed on the ground, her hair splaying across her face in chaotic tangles. A chill night breeze blew through the clearing, cleaving its way through the shimmering curtain of raindrops. She lay still, barely breathing. Twin rivulets of tears ran down her face, mingling with the cold drops of rain. The water drenched her to her bones, icy daggers twisting themselves into her skin.
She welcomed the pain.
Ell, I failed you.
Her fingers involuntarily twitched as she tried to move them, sharp stabs of pain lancing along her extremities.
I am so sorry.
Tongues of icy fire writhed through her body, making her spasm. But she didn't mind. For every agonizing second felt like an apology to the girl in white she had loved long ago.
You did not die in vain. I have learned from my mistakes.
Her breath came out in puffs of white as the cold consumed her. A dull throbbing built up at the base of her skull.
They will not take my Laura too.
And there she remained, unmoving.
Gradually, the rain stopped. Murky puddles of water no longer rippled with fresh drops. Another gust of wind swept her hair clear of her eyes, allowing her to see the few stars twinkling among the tempestuous clouds. Carmilla pushed herself up onto her elbows. She sighed and sat up gingerly, feeling like her muscles were made from glass. The engorged brook murmured quietly in the background, sweeping away storm tossed debris. She carefully wrapped her arms around her legs and gazed at the sky, the brilliant stars reflected in her eyes.
To think the universe is still expanding.
She trembled, feeling smaller than ever.
How lonely must it be to live so far apart from your brethren, and to be growing further apart still.
Normally, the stars comforted Carmilla.
But tonight, she only felt emptiness.