By Evanessa
One more night of this
I can see it in my mind
The cycle that repeats itself
What I thought we'd left behind
Seems things are improving
Then in a moment I find
The truth and what it means
What it signifies
All the questions remain
You say you can sympathize
But I know each act is just
Another way to self-glorify
Even if I thought it was real
You won't stop to compromise
Because you've spun yourself in a circle
And now you're caught in your web of lie
Chorus:
Stop lying to yourself
You won't convince anyone else
You're trapped now, can't you see
How sick you're making me
Say you love me one more time
But I won't believe your lies
Switching back and forth at will
Claiming hurt at every word
Told to face yourself just once
Screaming lies at every turn
Hide behind the pills you take
It's okay, you won't seem fake
Don't you know that you're not real
Somewhere deep inside of you
Is a heart that really feels
Your hatred sticks like glue
Don't you know you're holding on
To nothing but an empty, bitter pawn
Because you've spun yourself in a circle
And now you're caught in your web of lies
Repeat Chorus
You think changing us will
Make us love you still
What you don't even see
Is that you'll soon be losing me
You've stepped past the edge of reality
You can't reign forever
We'll bring you down eventually
You're fighting violently
But the weight is growing stronger
You're dragging yourself down
You're nights stretching longer
You're creating your own hell
With a cold hard heart and
A mouth full of lies to sell
Because you've spun yourself in a circle
And now you're caught in your web of lies
Repeat Chorus
Because you've spun yourself in a circle
And now you're caught in your web of lies
Lies
Lies
Caught in your web of lies
***
"This Heart"
By Evanessa
Closed up and distant
They see me as I am
But they don't know
Of my secret place
They see my empty eyes
Hollow with pain
They throw me aside
Tossed for my stains
But they don't know
What's inside my heart
No one has seen
The softest part
Chorus:
Locked away
Away from the pain
Slowly it beats
Soon it will fade
And beat no more
And echoes of the life
Will steal away
Will this heart never feel
The love that it seeks
Time drifts away
And I grow weak
What will I do
When it goes away
No heart to love
No words to say...
I'm tired of guilt
So tired of hate
So tired of trying
To run from fate
Repeat Chorus x2
Hardening...shattering
A little while more
A little while more...
Repeat Chorus
***
"Safe"
By Evanessa
I won't wake up
I won't face reality today
I'll sleep a little longer
And let my dreams take me away
A safe haven
The fortress of the night
Lay here sleeping
So safe dreaming
Please don't wake me
Please don't shake me
Please don't take me away
Chorus:
Leave me here
Safe in sleep's warm embrace
This is the place
I want to be
So please just leave me here
Shadows stalking
Raindrops talking
I am loved here
I am warm
The sun will rise
And touch my eyes
But I won't wake
Repeat Chorus
Grasping with your clammy hands
You want to pull me down
But I will stay here
I will play here
And I cannot be found
Repeat Chorus x4
***
"Imagining"
By Evanessa
I know you see me
I know I'm not invisible to you
Why don't you just say what you feel?
These wounds are not to deep to heal
I know you're watching me
I see you taking sidelong glances when you think that I can't see
I know you must have something on your mind
Why can't you just put all this behind you...?
Chorus:
Or am I imagining it all?
Am I just desperate for your call?
Am I still lost inside your eyes?
Am I still caught up in those thoughtless lies?
Oh, am I imagining it all?
Am I still waiting for you to catch me if I fall?
Am I still longing for your gentle touch?
I think of all of this and it is just too much
I can't picture myself
Standing next to anybody else
You're always in my mind
Still I don't want you to find me
You still have a hold of me
Thoughts of you are driving me crazy
I try to let go by I'm still here
If I want to see you I just look inside the mirror
Repeat Chorus
I need to get away
I'm trying to forget you
But I can't choose the fabric of my dreams
And I can't deny what's true
I know I'm imagining this all
And I am still desperate for your call
I'm still lost inside your eyes
I'm still caught up in those thoughtless lies
Oh, I'm imagining this all
I'm still waiting for you to catch me if I fall
I'm still longing for your gentle touch
Thinking all of this...is just too much
Imagining
Imagining
Imagining...is just too much
***
"Higher"
By Evanessa
Flaunting your happiness
I know the truth
Hide behind your lies
But I've seen the real you
Faking this confidence
You think no one sees
Only when we turn our backs
Is it safe for you to breath
But we know what you hide behind
And what you're clinging to
Open your eyes (it's too late)
You're living a lie (it'll bury you)
Chorus:
Stood by you for so long
Just to watch you fade away
Reached out my hand so many times
Said what you wanted me to say
But now you've stabbed me in the back
And I've bled
Oh I've bled
And I've bled
But so will you
Laughing at us from on high
You think you'll never come down
But men die for their countries
Not their queens
And you don't wear a crown
Stifled every feeling
My own were treachory
But in trying to gain control
You lost everything you had
You're an old blanket full of holes
The lies seep out in time
They're going to tie you
And leave you here alone
Repeat Chorus
You thought by stabbing me
You'd climb a little higher
You can never face yourself
A fucking two-faced liar
But what goes up comes back down
Your own knife will stab you
Your own lies will kill you
We all have to face the truth
Repeat Chorus
"Rivers Flow On"
By Evanessa
Time can't heal
These invisible scars
I can't hide from the pain
Though I may run fast and far
Hope dwindles
I'm feeling empty again
I thought it was over
But it never ends
I can fight til I die
But I'll never win
My sanctuary
Is inside my own mind
But it's hard to find shelter
When I'm going blind
Pain increases
As do the tears
Nightmares persist
Spurred by the fear
And in the end those who leave
Are the ones I hold dear
Plastered on smiles
Keep questions away
Fake, hollow laughs
Because good things don't stay
If I give love I'll lose it
So I keep it inside
Broken by questions
Humbled by pride
I'll put up my walls again
'Cause love's just a lie
Kept pure, I am empty
One day I will fade
Because rivers keep flowing
And love doesn't stay
***
"Ghost Of You"
By Evanessa
The pieces falling together
None of them making sense
What's behind the walls you've made
Why all of this pretense
You think I can't see what you're hiding
You thought driving me away would keep it hidden
But now I'm closer than ever before
And I can almost touch it
Chorus:
But I can see you now
I'm on the outside, looking in
I can see you now
For all the time you've cried and lied awake
For all the times your answers were so fake
I'm what you used to be
I'm you, you're ghost
And I can see you now
I feel your fear
It's my fear too
I see the truth
And why it's hurting you
I know the cost
Was too much to pay
I know the pain
Was too much to bear
But deep inside you're crying out
For a hand that isn't there
Repeat Chorus
Following in your path
Trying to break free
I don't want to be you
But I'm what you used to be (X2)
Break free(X4)
Repeat Chorus
***
"Walk Away"
By Evanessa
Trapped inside this labrynth
The creation of my mind
Surrounded by this darkness
Soon to make me blind
Lost inside the pain and hurt
Forgetting all that's true
Doing everything I can
Not to become like you
The confusion of my mind
Stems from everything you've said
Always running from what you are
Only to end up dead
Gotta take everything you've done
And grind it into dust
You left me here to rust
But it's my turn to leave
Chorus:
Left in this world of fucking darkness
You made me what I am
Molded, designed
Shaped and refined
It's everything you are
I'm everything you weren't
But still you made me what I am
I'm a sham
Remembering who you were
And who you could never be
Choosing to hide from what you did
Plagued by insanity
You couldn't heal
You couldn't feel
So you took it out on me
It's all a game to change the same
And the winner loses all
You won every fight
Turned off every light
But I didn't scream
I kept it inside
It was all just a dream
A horrible dream
Where I couldn't die
But now I can walk away
Repeat Chorus
You're gone now, never coming back
You fought for long enough
Created a monster in your time
But then you had to die
(We all live, we all die)
It's too late to rectify
The choices that you made
Stole your heart away
And now I walk away
Repeat Chorus x2
By Evanessa
He spoke, his voice like that of an echo, resounding, yet lifeless. �I�m sorry, Samara. What do you want me to say? You�re like an empty cup with a hole in the bottom; no matter how much I pour into you, you�re still empty, and you always will be. And I can�t find a way to make you see that.�
�What does that have to do with anything?� I asked him, the anger in my voice not belying my true feelings. I was past anger. I was�dead. �I�m tired of listening to your lies. How can you turn this around on me when you�re the one who cheated? You betrayed me, Andy. You were fake.�
�Exactly! You should be angry, hurt, crying. You should hate me. But I know you. I know exactly what you�ll do.�
�Really?� I asked, feeling tired. I didn�t want to be doing this. I just wanted to go home. To sleep. �And what�s that?�
�You�re waiting for me to say it�s not true. You�re staking everything on that one hope. You don�t even care if it�s true. You�d believe any lie just to hear me say I love you. Then, when I�ve told you that it wasn�t true, even when you know deep down inside of you that I�m lying, you�ll forgive me. But not just forgive! You�ll say you�re sorry--sorry for ever doubting me. Why do you do this to yourself? Why? You deserve so much better. And yet you�ll still take me back. All I�d have to do is lie.�
I stared at him. My chest felt numb. There was nothing, I felt nothing. I just didn�t care. I shook my head. �Why do you want to hurt me?�
�Because I want you to feel! Why can�t you understand that? You can�t ever be happy until you learn to grieve. You�re so sweet. So sweet that it makes me sick--nauseous. You walk past me and smile every day. Smile! When your heart is being torn from your chest. Samara, I�ve never seen you cry. Never. I�ve known you for six years, and I�ve never seen you so much as tear up. You�re cold, numb, and so sweet. For once in your life say something spiteful, hurtful�do something to hurt me back. Or cry. Do something!�
I shook my head again. �I don�t want to hear this right now, Andy. I�m leaving.� I turned around, but he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him.
�Listen to me! If you walk out that door, you walk out of my life. Do you understand? I�ve tried so hard for so long to reach you. How can you love me when you can�t even feel? You�ve let me walk all over you for six years. Six years! You�ve given me your heart, time and time again; you�ve laid it out for me to crush, to stomp on. I�ve broken your heart a thousand times, shattering it. But you�ll give it back to me again, and all I have to do is say the words. You�ll smile that sweet, beautiful smile, and become more numb than ever before. You can�t keep doing this.�
�My heart�s been broken more times than I can count.� I said, backing up. �There�s nothing left to give.� And I walked out the door. I walked out of his life.
And I left the broken fragments of my heart scattered at his feet.
�Trust me. Don�t be afraid. I won�t leave you hanging--I won�t leave you crying.� I remember it like it was yesterday, our first kiss under the shade of the apple tree, the white blossoms a carpet of splendor beneath our feet. He had held my hand and whispered to me of how beautiful I was; my eyes, my smile, my sweet nature. The very nature for which he now hated me. It was ironic--the characteristic that had attracted him in the first place was what drove him away in the end.
I didn�t cry over him. Days came and went, and not a single tear did I shed. I wasn�t happy�but somehow, I managed to go on living as if he had never been a part of my life. Some part of me, deep inside, missed him. Some place that I had long forgotten wanted him with me every moment of every day. But any candle can be snuffed out, and the flames of love are no exception. By the time I came home from college for Christmas my freshman year, I had already gone on several dates with several other students, and though I hadn�t taken a serious interest in any of them, it had not been for missing him that I sent them home without even a kiss goodnight.
I met my first husband during the last months of college. We dated for several months, and were married the following fall. Though I cared for him genuinely, I did not love him. He loved me more as a good friend than a wife, but was devastated when we found after several attempts at having children, that I was barren. The same crime that had stolen my ability to feel emotion had also stolen my ability to bear children. The greatest passion I would ever feel was the one I had felt for years: hatred at my father for having raped me, for having left me broken and lost.
After five years of marriage, John divorced me. He left me with plenty of money and a house to live in, but I have not spoken to him since. I am sure he has long forgotten me.
By the time I was thirty I had married and divorced two more men. I had loved neither, but they both left me better off than before. After my third divorce I moved far away from where I had grown up, trying to leave my past behind me. I tried to understand why I couldn�t feel love, why I couldn�t feel emotion. I had loved Andy with all of my heart, but that had not been enough.
Now, I am sixty-one, and looking back on my life, I see that I have not lived. Throughout my life, I have left little pieces of me behind�my father, who raped me, took pieces that were not his. I left some at Andy�s feet when I walked out. Others were left behind in my divorces, until there was nothing left. And as I stare into the eyes of death, I wonder�were these pieces really those of my heart? Or were they shards of my soul? Am I nothing but a hollow shell, an outer cover? When I die, will I only rot and decay, and my life will have gone to waste?
He stood there, leaning up against the auditorium door that led backstage, his black hair falling over those dark eyes I had stared into lovingly so many times. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his posture suggested an apathetic state of mind. He shook his head, strands of hair spilling over his face, which was hidden by shadows. He shifted and caught a gleam of light for a brief second, illuminating his face and causing a shiver to go up my spine. His eyes were so empty. I looked away, unable to face their hollowness.
He spoke, his voice like that of an echo, resounding, yet lifeless. �I�m sorry, Samara. What do you want me to say? You�re like an empty cup with a hole in the bottom; no matter how much I pour into you, you�re still empty, and you always will be. And I can�t find a way to make you see that.�
�No,� I said to him, taking his hand in mine and holding it tight. �I do see. And I want to change. But I need help. There are pieces of me�pieces that were stolen. I have to put them back together.�
He stared at me, his eyes suddenly filling with life. He drew me close to him, and whispered, �You�ll let me help?�
I nodded. He lifted me up and spun me around. Then setting me down and looking me straight in the face he said in a voice bursting with joy, �Samara, I just want you to know: I was never untrue.�
I stared into his eyes for seconds, which drew into minutes. I searched deeper than the surface, down into his spirit�s well. And there I saw it. There was no lie. He was telling me the truth. He had truly only wanted me to feel, he had never wanted to hurt me. All along I had believed it was true and ignored it, when I could have faced it and seen the real truth. And now we could make things right. I could be whole again. All it had taken was a glimpse into the future.
My eyes filled with tears, and there was someone there to catch them.
By Evanessa
I was gruesome. The mirror was half shattered, so my face was grotesquely skewed, and yet I knew it was hideous all the same. Shards of glass were imbedded in my skin, and I bled freely; the dark liquid fairly flowed down my face, intermingling with tears and dark eye make-up. My hair was strewn about in disarray, and the hatred that contorted my features also devoured my eyes, the casements of my captive soul. The ugliness, the sheer atrocity of my reflection caused me to gasp, but an unfamiliar sense of satisfaction took hold of me, and I laughed wildly.
My eyes shifted to the picture laying on the desk before me. The picture of him that I kept with me always. I clutched it resentfully, torn between the forces of love and hatred that ruled my mind and heart. I screamed wretchedly, then violently shredded the picture into little pieces, flinging them about the room contemptuously. Then I buried my marred face in my hands and wept tears of bitter odium.
His face came to me. I saw him as clearly as if he were standing there in front of me, and mentally, I reached out for him. There are days when I love him, love him wholly and devotedly, days when he is my world, and my world is complete. But then there are days when I detest the sight of him, the smell, the sound of his voice. Days when I would give anything to be as far away from him as I could possibly go. On those days, doubts crept into the shadows of my mind, and whispers, at first faint, but growing stronger with her weakness, would say to me, But do you really love him? Even when you know he does not love you? Even when you know you are losing him? I would scream at the voice, �No! He loves me! He loves me! He will always love me--he will always be mine! Even in death!� But my screams hold no conviction, because I know the voice is right. He does not love me. He was patiently waiting for me to die.
A bleeding heart is more dangerous than a broken one. With a broken heart, the pieces were still there, it was just a matter of picking up the pieces and putting them back together. But with something that bled�only time could heal that sort of pain. And with death lingering so close, time I did not have. My wound was a secret one, no one else knew that he, who had stayed at my bedside for so long was steadily increasing the portions of poison that he fed me, little by little increasing my anguish and suffering, leading me gently and surely toward that dark door of death. My own dear husband, who I have loved and cherished, who I have bled and cried for, who I have fought and would have died for, was killing me. A bleeding heart does not forgive.
My reflection was all he had ever loved. Now, staring at it, I knew I had been blind to him all along, blinded by love, and by longing. I heard his footsteps on the stairwell, and I proceeded to crawl into bed and cover myself up, taking with me a thin, wiry rope that had been wrapped around a package of old letters. I felt the blood caking in my hair and on my face, and wondered what he would make of it. I had not long to wait. He opened the door softly and quietly, and stepped over to my side gingerly, holding the tray that contained my nightly dose of poison. Somehow I knew that this was meant to be my last. After having gotten steadily weaker, one strong dose would finish the job. I smiled morbidly.
When he saw my face he grimaced and drew back. �What happened? What---what did you do?�
I shook my head and whispered faintly, �Don�t fret. The face of death is rarely sweet.�
�What are you talking about? Why did you do this?� he set the tray down on my nightstand and reached his hand to my face. My heart felt like it was ripping apart--how I wished it were real, that his caress, his tender touch was sincere. How I longed to become lost in him like I once had, to bury my face in his chest and cast aside all fear and sorrows. Something, bile perhaps, rose in my throat, and I choked it down. He had stolen that from me.
He sat down on the bed and took my face in his hands. �Are you hurting? I�ll bring you water and gauze. Do you feel any better?�
�I�m ill.� I said, my eyes boring into his head. �I�m dying.�
�You�re getting better.� he told me. �With time, you�ll heal.�
�There is no time.� I hissed. �No time. It is my soul that�s ill. It�s withered, fraying. Starved of love.�
He put on a mask of concern. I could tell he wasn�t really listening. His muscles were tensing to stand even now. To stand and leave me, alone here, in the darkness. �But it will soon be free.� I said, slipping my hands around his back and sitting up to kiss him. As my fingers laced around the back of his neck, the rope dangling between them, I felt for a sign, even a slight one, that he still cared for me in some remote part of his heart. But the kiss that he returned to me was so cold, so dispassionate, so distant, and I knew then that I was right. I wrapped the rope around his neck and pulled. Our lips were locked together as I strangled him, and as he struggled, I pulled even tighter. His body strained and he tried to pull free of me; I whispered in his ear, �My love, we�ll be together soon.� After a moment his struggling ceased, and his body became limp as it slumped onto mine. I felt his pulse�his heart still beat, very slowly. I sucked the last breath out of him into my mouth and swallowed it, then withdrew. He died in my arms, as it should have been.
Minutes passed and the warmth faded from his body, the color drained from his face. Tears filled my eyes, and I kissed his head. �Was my love not enough?� I reached over to the forgotten tray, and picking up the cup that held my death, I thought perhaps I had only loved his reflection and not his soul, as he had loved mine. For--if I had known his soul, would I not have seen its blackness? Maybe on the other side�we could be our reflection. I tipped the cup to my mouth and swallowed. Then I laid my head on the chest of a reflection I had loved, and hoped their was something worth loving on the other side.
Only I woke up the next morning, still alive.
Grief and torture consumed me, and I wept and screamed as I reached for the cold, lifeless hand that had once gripped mine so tightly. And then I knew the truth. I had never been dying from a diseased body, but rather an ill mind. I had killed the only person who had stayed with me through everything. He had been cold, dispassionate and distant because he had known that I wasn�t me, but only a raging particle of a diseased mind. I collapsed into a hollow shell of sorrow and torment, taking no solace in the knowledge that he had loved me all along, but only wallowing in the despair of having doubted him. I gasped, I must, must, catch up with him. My only hope was that we would find each other on the other side. I stumbled out of the bed and staggered down the stairs to the drawer where he kept the dagger his father had given him as a boy. I took it out and ran back upstairs. I would die in his arms as he had mine, for if death gave no comfort beyond the grave, I would die at least knowing we were together until the end. Now that doubt had been banished, I would set things right.
I crawled into the bed, adjusted his body, wrapped his lifeless arms around me, and leaned back on his cold chest. Then with a whispered prayer for what lay beyond, I drove the dagger through my beating heart and his dead one. And as my spirit departed from my dying body I knew: we are not our reflections, and we are only bound to them if we hide behind their shallow surface. And when a reflection dies, the soul is freed.
A bleeding heart bleeds--and bleeds--until it bleeds no more.
By Evanessa
Cheeter, you say, this alone and nothing more? My surname, though wherefrom it came, I do not know, was all they chose to carve into the stone, for the riches of earth had not been mine, and without riches, those left behind do not care to linger at the doorway of death, do not care to make it a more pleasant place for they that are taken. My name had been Paul. Paul George Cheeter, the boy without a home, without a family, without a soul to care about him in the world. No, there are no dates carved into the stone; dates do not matter, the suffering of humanity does not change with the years.
I had been an orphan, sometime during the early nineteen hundreds if you must know, a boy with chestnut curls and starry eyes. I often stared up at the trees in reverie, lost in enchantment, spellbound by the beauty that surrounded me, drinking in the scenery that made up the little town of Clayton. A dreamer, I was often called. A dreamer, and an orphan. A waif of a boy with no aim or purpose, a lost soul with no hope. And always, throughout my life, I was alone.
Until around my eighth birthday. Now I do not know for sure that I was eight, because being the uneducated urchin that I was, time did not effect me, and I kept no record of its passing. I was however, known by the asylum people, and they estimated me to be about eight. I took their word for it, for there was none other to go by. I was sitting outside in the cherry orchard, a small walk from the asylum, my chin tilted upwards, the sun streaming down on my face. I was lost in the splendor of the cherry blossoms, their delicate white petals to me were a reflection of heaven. I was staring up at the blue sky, the wind playing with my curls, a playful breeze, much like the one that taunts my gravestone now. And in the distance, I could hear a whimper. Small at first, but growing steadily more persistent. So lost was I in the intricate folds of the flowers that I did not at first hear it. But as time passed by slowly, and the whimpering increased, it suddenly entered my mind that the quiet had been broken. I stood and listened for the sound again. I followed it to where I thought it was coming from, and found its source: an orphaned puppy. We became best friends.
For two years I was the happiest I had ever been. For two years, I had a companion, a friend. We went everywhere together, did everything as boy and dog. He followed me everywhere I went. If I slept, he would sleep curled up at my bare feet, making them toasty warm. If I ate, I would share my finds with him, and when we finished what little bit we found, he did not cry for more. We roamed the countryside, traveling from hill to hill in search of something better, something more beautiful. And there was always another hill to pass over, always another sunrise to discover. At night we would return to the asylum, envied by the other little boys and girls who had no companions, and we would play together in the failing light until we were told to go to sleep. That was our way. That was our life. And we were happy.
And then they killed him.
Who? Who would do such a terrible thing? Who would take the life of something that was my everything, the life of a boy who had nothing? The adults. The owners of the asylum. They drove a shovel into his skull, and thus stole the only friend I�d ever had.
They threw his limp body into the river. They held me back, so that I could not go after him. They could see that my fragile heart was broken, that my depraved soul had reached its limits. But they did not care. What worth were the tears of an orphan boy? In despair, I cried myself to sleep that night. And then, when they ceased to watch over me, I crept out by the light of the moon to find him. If nothing else, I would bury him in a proper grave, for if any deserved an honorable death, it was the little dog that had given me love and happiness for the two years of his life. I dove into the cold river, no thought in my tortured mind but to find my little dog. My body was cold and stiff and starving, and as the waters rushed over me, I knew that we had been meant to be one both in life and in death. As the water filled my lungs, and pain coursed through my heart, I called for him. And then I breathed my last.
Death is lonely. And it is dark. But no lonelier, no darker than was life. Unless you are placed into the path of a person, they will not see you. They look but they don�t see, they listen, but they don�t hear. I knew this; of all people, I learned this well. But now I lie beneath the dirt, a reflection of something that once was. Darkness surrounds me, day and night. But I do not fear it. I am not afraid of the dark, of the loneliness. Because here, here I will not be disturbed. Here, I can rest.
But with nothing more than �Cheeter� carved into the stone, no one shall ever know this story. Surely the stone should have said �boy and dog�, for that is all my life was, a boy and his dog. But others did not see me then, and they will not see me now. My life came and went, and not a single blade of grass was altered.
By Evanessa
Her father, a tall, somber man nearing his fifties, with steel gray hair and light blue eyes, shook his head sadly and said, �I wish that I could give you a choice, but I�m afraid that�s just not possible. You know as well as I do that I�d stay in Cloudy Hollow if I could, but your mother is sick, and the only doctor good enough to treat her is in Fort Mansdale. If we stay here, she might not get better.�
Aldreiya�s lip trembled, and she squeezed a few tears out as she said, �But I won�t have any friends!�
�Oh, you�ll make new friends.� her father assured her with a nod. �And you can write letters to your old ones. We can even come back for a visit every so often so that you can see them if you like.�
Aldreiya slapped her hands on the couch and moaned, �I don�t want to leave! Why can�t mother just go by herself until she gets better?�
�Aldreiya,� her father said, standing up, his smile fading. �That is quite enough. You are being very selfish. What is done is done. Pack your bags. We leave in the morning.�
Aldreiya jumped to her feet and stamped one obdurately. �I will not go. You�ll see.�
Her father shook his head again and left the room slowly, saying as he went, �Good night. I love you, sweetheart.� Aldreiya flung her hands up in the air and said to herself, �I�ll show him. I�ll find a way to stay here. How dare he say that I�m being selfish? He�s the one who�s expecting us to move and give up everything we�ve ever known just so mother can get a better doctor. I think he�s lying. She doesn�t look so sick to me.� Walking over to her vanity, Aldreiya pulled on one of the brass knobs and opened the cherry wood drawer to pull out her ivory hair brush. She began running it through her hair, thinking how dreadful it was in this awful house with her parents. They had always been so mean to her. She wished that she could just run away. Maybe even get a new family. She dropped the hair brush back into the drawer and slammed it shut, rolling her eyes when the wood chipped at the impact. Why did her parents buy such cheap furniture? With all the money they had, one would think that they could at least purchase some half-way decent furniture for their poor, depraved child. She sighed and went to let down the burgundy draperies, flicking the golden tassels as she did so. Gold? Why had her parents chosen gold? They hadn�t asked her what she had wanted. She had wanted something a little more subtle. But then again, that was typical of her parent�s behavior. They absolutely never listened to her. Sometimes she wondered if they just tuned her out because they didn�t love her. When was the last time either of them had said �I love you� to her? Other children�s parents told them �I love you� all the time, but she rarely ever heard it out of her parents� mouths. All they ever thought about was themselves.
Aldreiya took off her pink lace dress and flung it on the floor. Of course her parents would yell at her later on to pick it up, but she didn�t care. They never did anything for themselves. It was always, �Aldreiya do this, Aldreiya do that!� She got so tired of hearing it. Pulling her light pink, silk nightgown over her head, Aldreiya yawned and hopped into bed. She pulled the silk covers over her shivering body and muttered to herself about not having a fireplace. Her parents had a fireplace in their bedroom, why shouldn�t she have one in hers? Maybe they wanted her to freeze to death. She wouldn�t be surprised. She would be surprised at nothing, nothing, after this!
�So how did she take it?� Aldreiya�s mother, Neryssa, asked her husband. Darien shook his head. His wife didn�t know that, though, because she was blind. The sickness had caused her to be blind, but she didn�t want her daughter to know, so she had kept the detail a secret.
�She wasn�t too happy.� Darien sighed. �She doesn�t want to leave her friends.�
Neryssa shook her head. �Oh Darien, I wish we didn�t have to do this. I want so badly for her to have everything she�s ever wanted, but I can�t do anything if I die.�
�You won�t die.� Darien said, gripping her hand strongly and smoothing her hair. �You won�t. I�m going to get you the best doctor there is to find, and you�re going to get well. Who knows, maybe you�ll even get your sight back. Then we can do whatever we want for Aldreiya to make her happy.�
�I hope so.� said Neryssa sadly. �I really hope so. I love her so much, and I want to be there for her always. I don�t ever want her to think that I don�t love her.�
�I�m sure she doesn�t think that.� Darien told her. �She has your heart, Neryssa. And your beauty too.� he handed her a rose that he had just picked from the garden. Roses had always been her favorite flower, and they had been surrounded by them on their wedding day.
Neryssa drank in the scent deeply, then murmured, �Red roses have always been my favorite.�
�How did you know it was red?� Darien asked.
�Because red roses are the most beautiful.� Neryssa smiled.
�How can you see its beauty? You cannot see through your nose, can you?�
Neryssa shook her head and said solemnly, �True beauty comes from within. You don�t have to see something to know that it�s beautiful.�
Darien smiled. �So if I went blind, I would still know where you were, just by sensing the beauty?�
Neryssa laughed. �Don�t tease. I was being serious.�
�So was I.�
�Darien?� Neryssa said, her voice getting softer, and her eyebrows furrowing delicately. �If I do�pass away before we can find a doctor, will you make sure there are roses around when I die? I should like to die in peace, with their scent filling my thoughts.�
Darien shook his head and said harshly, �You will not die. You are going to live, to be old, and you shall have to put roses on my grave. Don�t be silly Neryssa.�
�Promise me, Darien. If I do die, let me see Aldreiya before I go. Let us all be together when I pass from this realm to the next. And let the bridge be made of roses and moonlight.� her voice was growing weaker, and her mind was wandering as she lingered in the doorway of sleep.
Darien nodded slowly. �Of course dear. Whatever you say.� Then he laid his cheek on hers and listened to the faint drumming of her heart. Each time the beat slowed, one more piece of his heart shattered.
Aldreiya woke up to the sound of seagulls outside her window. Which was actually rather odd, considering they lived nowhere near an ocean, and Aldreiya had never heard a seagull before in her life. Her eyes fluttered open and she yawned sleepily, wondering how she could feel so tired when the sun was so high in the sky. She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then got out of bed slowly. As she went to pull the drapes back she noticed that they were no longer burgundy with gold tassels, but rather a light pink with silver tassels. Aldreiya nodded her head in satisfaction. Her father must have fixed that during the night.
Walking over to the window, she noticed that her clothes were not lying on the floor where she had left them, but folded neatly in the chair beside her bed. She looked out the window and was in the process of yawning when it suddenly struck her that something was terrible wrong. She was looking out of her bedroom window, but what she saw out there was not Cloudy Hollow.
�Oh no!� she cried, tugging on a white lace dress and pulling a brush through her hair quickly. As soon as she was in a presentable state, she ran downstairs as fast as she could to see where he father was. When she got to the kitchen where he should be sitting and drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper, however, she saw another man there, a man that was most certainly not her father. �Umm�excuse me sir, do you know where my father is?� she asked timidly.
The man smiled warmly, his face all chumminess. �I am so glad you are up dear. Would you like some toast with eggs and sausage or some pancakes with fresh blueberry sauce for breakfast?�
�Actually, I�m not particularly hungry, so-�
�You�re not sure?� the man said, apparently having missed what she said. �Well, I�ll have the cook make both so you can just eat whatever you feel like, okay darling?�
�Okay. But where�s my father? Will he be back soon? I really need to-�
�You�re awfully quiet this morning, aren�t you dear? Oh well, I suppose you�re still tired from last night. You did sleep a long time though. Are you sure you�re feeling okay?�
�I�m feeling fine.� said Aldreiya, beginning to get impatient. �May I ask your name sir? I�m not quite comfortable talking to a stranger, and I feel quite certain that I have not met your acquaintance yet.�
�Well, if you have nothing to say,� said the man with a shrug, �then I suppose I�ll just go back to my paper. Go run along and play, and I will call you in for breakfast in a little while, okay?�
Aldrieya glowered and stalked off the other way. She thought her parents were bad for not listening! This man hadn�t listened to a single word she said. Insolent fool! She would tell her mother about him and have him sent on his way.
She hurried over to the bedroom that her parents slept in, thinking that perhaps her father was in there talking to mother. But when she opened the door and looked inside, the bed was made up fresh and the curtains were opened. The curtains were never open when mother was in there. Where had they taken her? She ran back out and stopped right in front of the man, and with fists planted on her hips, demanded to know where her mother was. He looked up at her and said, �Cordelia, darling, please stop glaring so. Go out and play like I told you to.�
�My name is not Cordelia!� she said vehemently, but the man was not paying any attention. He simply went back to his reading and ignored her protests. Angrily she stomped out the front door; she still wasn�t in Cloudy Hollow.
She looked around her in wonder, amazed at the beauty of the small town she now stood in. So different than the place that she had come from. There was a long road that ran all the way from their mansion to a castle about a mile away. Everything in between was old-time country stores, country cottages, and small farms. It was a beautiful little nook, with flowering plants and blooming trees, healthy, green grass and smiling people, pretty horses and curious cats, and the pleasant fragrance of roses wafting around her with the breeze. Running just along the outskirt of the tiny town was a small brook bubbling with laughter, and a forest lay beyond that. On the other side of the town were fields of cotton and wheat, sprinkled with purple and yellow wildflowers. Beyond the castle was a tall, snow-capped mountain surrounded by a mist of heavy fog, and the castle itself seemed a little hazy from where she was standing.
She took one step onto the stone road, and the scenery around her changed entirely. The brook was still there, but now it was iced over, and though there were still trees, they were all bare. The fields to her left were empty, and the buildings seemed utterly forsaken. The castle was dark and foreboding, and the mountain loomed threateningly, the fog becoming thick and black. A chill went up her spine as she looked around her. There was a dead horse laying on the road, and weary looking people walked the streets, their heads down and their feet dragging. They all seemed to be shades of gray, and slightly transparent. They were unreal, but their eyes were not.
Aldrieya shuddered and took another step. With this the town changed almost beyond the point of recognition. The road was paved, the buildings taller, the brook gone, the farms built over, the fields covered with houses, the castle broken down and ancient. The sound of cars and horns reached her ears, people in business suits with grim faces hurried by. The mountain had mining paraphernalia all over it, and the forest was cut down. The city seemed chaotic and stressful. Aldreiya felt lost.
With each step that she took, the town changed, became something different, and never was it the same twice. Aldreiya could feel herself getting dizzy with the constant changing, the swirling faces, some close enough to touch, some so misty that they passed right through her. She knew she must be dreaming, and yet every step that she took caused her fear to grow a little more. Her steps came faster, the images swirled around her crazily, and balls of sweat beaded on her forehead. She began running, and then crying, and the images were coming so fast that she could hardly think or breath. Her feet pounded harder and harder, sometimes on stone, sometimes on grass, or pavement, or concrete, or dirt, or sewage, or flowers�the sounds in her ears went from barking to singing to crying to honking to�she wanted to scream. The intensity was building, the fear was mounting, the�she tripped and fell face first in the dust, sobs racking her body, howls coming from the depths of her throat.
For the first few minutes she just lay there. Everything had settled now, and she felt sure that she was somewhere in a farming village in the early nineteen hundreds. Her tears came slower, her breath caught up with her, and her screams died. At long last she sat up and wiped her cheeks, breathing deep breathes of perfume scented air. And that is when it hit her.
While everything around her had been changing so rapidly, one thing, one single, minute, unimportant detail had remained unchanged and constant; one thing had stayed with her the entire time. She stood up now and breathed in deeply the smell of roses, the scent that her mother loved best.
Looking around her with a new sense of wonder, Aldreiya noticed a small boy who looked to be about six dart past her. He wasn�t quite clear, being more of a shadow than a real person, and seeming to be slightly misty. �Excuse me? Little boy!�
He stopped in mid-stride and nearly fell over. The haziness faded, and the features became clear and solid. The eyes that looked up at her were filled with fear, but wonder also. Golden curls fell over a peaked, pale face, and trembling lips formed around words that barely came out as a whisper. �A-are you talkin to m-me, ma�am?�
Aldreiya nodded slightly, and smiled tentatively at the frightened boy. His body quivered with excitement or fright as he approached her timidly. �I-I�m real sorry if I did somfin wrong, ma�am, I really dint mean it.�
Aldreiya�s brow furrowed and she said, �Why would you think that you did something wrong, dear?�
The boy�s blue-gray eyes widened, although she hadn�t thought that was possible. �I�I d-dunno.�
�I just wanted to ask you a question. Why does everything change here? Doesn�t anything ever stay the same?�
�Wha�ya mean?� he asked, staring around him wonderingly. �Nothin�s changed.�
Aldreiya stared at him for a second and then said gently, �When you take a step, doesn�t your world change?�
The little boy stared around him intently for a moment, and then he shook his head. �Nothin�s changed.�
Aldreiya shook her head. Maybe she was hallucinating. Was it possible that she was delirious? She must be dreaming. �Where do you live?� she asked.
The boy pointed to a shabby little cottage with a thatched roof and a broken window. �Righ� there. Me mama ain�t �ome though.�
�Really? Where�s your father?� Aldreiya asked, finally getting her head to stop spinning.
�Don� got no papa.� the boy answered solemnly.
�Oh.� Aldreiya said, not knowing what to say. She tried to change the subject. �What�s your name?�
�Christopher.� the boy answered.
�That�s a lovely name.� Aldreiya said with a warm smile. A huge smile broke across the boy�s grubby face, and it was probably the most beautiful thing Aldreiya had ever seen. It was as if happiness itself had been embodied by the smile. The boy took a step toward her, and disappeared into thin air. Aldreiya stared into the space that had been the boy only a second before, and took a step backward. Her world changed again. This time she saw an old woman with white hair and wrinkled, weathered skin. She wobbled slowly, but she wasn�t going anywhere. Aldreiya called to her saying, �Excuse me, ma�am? Are you from around here?�
The old lady looked at her, then coughing loudly she wobbled away slowly, winking out of sight just as the boy had done. Unlike the boy, the old lady had not been hazy.
Aldreiya turned to face the castle, and decided that was where she wanted to go. She didn�t know why, and she didn�t care, but somehow she was going to walk through the ever-changing town and get to that castle, in whatever form it would be in, and she was going to go in it. The aroma of roses filled her nostrils, and she inhaled it greedily.
Walking slowly and determinedly, Aldreiya went through each world with a sense of awe and amazement. Everywhere there were people, but sometimes they were clear, and sometimes they were hazy. Occasionally she would talk to one of them; the clear ones would always look at her and run, or duck, or avert their eyes; but the hazy ones always responded, at first timidly, but then eagerly. She was beginning to get the feeling that something was afoot, something that affected her greatly, and something that wasn�t real. She knew she was dreaming by this time, but she didn�t care. Pinching herself wasn�t working, so she just kept her eyes peeled and took everything in at once. Each new world brought a new feeling; some of wonder, others of dismay, or fear, or content. With each feeling, she was one step closer to the castle.
It seemed like a lifetime later when she finally reached the tall, now gothic gates of the castle. She stared up at the gothic piece of architecture; the tall, pointed spires, the dark framework, the shiny jet details, the ugly gargoyle figures, the dark paned windows, and the dark gray cloud that surrounded the fortress. She hoped that it would be something a little less foreboding by the time she actually got in it.
When she opened the gate, without any trouble at all, the scenery for the first time did not change. She felt a chill go up her spine as she looked about her at the hollow willow trees, the still pond, and the black lamp posts. This place reeked of darkness and betrayal, hatred and death. She hoped that the inside would be different, but that hope was not very strong.
When she got to the terrace, a stone wolf stared at her through jet eyes. She felt like she was being watched though, so she went ahead and knocked on the door. The knocker was heavy, made of stone, and it resounded loudly. She stood there for a moment, and when no answer came, she got ready to knock again. Then she realized that she was being watched, and that the wolf was not stone. She yanked the tall door open and flew inside, flinging it shut behind her. Darkness enveloped her immediately, and she wondered if she had made a mistake. But now it was too late to go back. She stood staring into the darkness for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She could almost see when a voice next to her said in crackly tones, �Would you like a candle?�
Startled, she jumped, then murmured, �Yes, thank you.� She shivered as someone took her hand and placed a candle in it, then slowly, shakily, lit it. The room lit up immediately, and the face that looked into hers was not at all ugly like the voice. A tall, handsome man with black hair and eyes, and a bold nose, looked down at her. His face was friendly, so she asked, �Please, sir, where am I?�
The man laughed, a delightful laugh, and when he spoke, his voice had changed and was now deep and thick as honey. �You are in the Castle of Dreams. Each knows it under a different name. You will come to remember it as the castle in the City of Roses, young Aldreiya.�
�How do you know my name?� Aldreiya asked, wondering if she knew this man from somewhere.
�Because you have been here before. And you will come here again, I suspect. You see it differently every night though. Tonight, I believe, you will remember well.�
�And why is that?�
�You will soon see. But I shall not keep you waiting. You have much to achieve.�
�You have not graced me with your name, sir.� Aldreiya said as politely as she could under the circumstances. The man nodded and said, �I have many names. You may call me Seth. Do you believe that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet?�
�No.� said Aldreiya assuredly. �I do not think that it would be possible.�
�Is that so?� the man said in a curious tone. �Very well then. Close your eyes.�
�What? Why?�
�Just do it.� the man said, laying a hand on her shoulder. Cautiously she closed her eyes, wanting desperately to peek, but daring not. He put something beneath her nose and said, �Smell.�
She took a deep breath and said, �It smells lovely. What is it?�
�It is a vernweed,� said Seth, taking the flower away.
�Why, what a horrible name for such a sweet smelling flower. Whoever named it was obviously very insensitive. Let me smell it again.� she said, opening her eyes.
�Close your eyes.� Seth said again. Aldreiya did so, and something brushed against her nose. A very different smell filled her nose, and this time it was anything but pleasant. �Why, that isn�t vernweed!� she protested. �It is horrible! Take it away.�
�Open your eyes.� Seth said. She did, and saw the flower that Seth was holding. It was very beautiful, and he said, �This is the vernweed. The flower that I held under your nose before was a rose. I said it was a vernweed, and you said that was a horrible name. Why is it that it still smelled sweet? And when your mind decided that the vernweed smelled good, why is it that the bad-smelling flower could not possibly be it?� Seth took the flower away and handed her a rose. �Let�s go.�
�Go where?� Aldreiya asked, feeling herself getting tired of the unpredictability of this world that she was in. She really wouldn�t mind waking up at this point. Unfortunately, she was getting a strange feeling that this wasn�t a dream after all.
�The rose garden.� Seth said. �I have something to show you there.�
Aldreiya followed Seth as he led her down a hallway and through a number of passageways. The halls were dark and only dimly lit by candles, and the heads of gargoyles and goblins popped out at her, emeralds and rubies forming there eyes, jet and ivory their teeth. Haunting sounds reached her ears; the sound of a wolf howling, a woman singing a lullaby, a baby crying, glass shattering, a violin playing. Each sound seemed to awaken fears that ran through Aldreiya�s mind. To push these thoughts away, she asked Seth, �Why are some people here clear and real, and others are hard to see?�
�Like some are only a mist?� Seth said. �This is the world of dreams.�
Aldreiya nodded.
�Well, dreams are not always what we think they are. Sometimes they are a memory, sometimes they are a repressed memory, sometimes they are a glimpse of the future, or a token of insight. Sometimes they are nothing more than a sudden roving of the subconscious mind, or sometimes they are wild fancies brought on by the imagination. Sometimes they are fears awakened, or hate unleashed. And sometimes�they are a reflection of our own world. That is the case of the world you are now in.�
�So this is just a reflection of my world?�
�Yes.� Seth nodded.
�Does that mean that the people in it are reflections of real people?� Aldreiya asked.
�You didn�t think you were walking in your own dream, did you?� Seth asked. �You are sound asleep, contentedly snoring in another world. It is only a faint reflection of you that wanders this world.�
�What about you? Are you only a reflection?�
Seth smiled. �I am another case. I am the holder of dreams. I do not exist outside of the subconscious. But that is another story, and one that does not concern you. Back to the point I was trying to make. Each of the people that you see in this world is a reflection of someone real in the real world. The people that are clear are the ones who are noticed, well-known, loved, cared-for�but most of them do not realize it. They are selfish, greedy, ignorant, and so they think that no one cares for them, and in being so self-centered, they neglect those who truly need love. They do not want to be seen, because they are lost inside the narrowness of their own minds. The old lady that you saw on the street, when you talked to her, she wobbled away. Do you know why? Because she wanted to feel sorry for herself. She wanted to be loved, but she would not let herself be loved, because then she would be happy. Miserable people want to be miserable, and nothing you can do will change that.�
Aldreiya listened carefully and tried to understand what Seth was saying. Her mind was only that of a fourteen year old, but innocence and youth gave her the chance to understand what age and experience could not.
�The other type of people are the misty ones, the transparent, the hazy people. These are the people that so desperately want to be seen and loved, and will do anything in their power to get that love, but are rejected. They long for just one gentle word, one tender caress, but no one is there to give it to them. They are a reflection of those faint people who live in the real world, but are not a part of it, because they are not recognized. You met one of them.�
�Christopher.� Aldreiya nodded. She pictured those big, blue-gray eyes and the smile that had lit his face when she spoke to him kindly. The poor soul wanted nothing more than to be loved.
�So, now that I have explained that, I will show you the real reason you are here.� Seth said, opening a door and leading her out into the night. It had been day when she had entered, but time seemed to change differently here. The moon shone brightly overhead, and the stars twinkled merrily. Aldreiya looked around her and realized that she was standing in a rose garden, the most beautiful rose garden she had ever seen. The night was scented with their perfumes, and the ground was stained with their petals. The beauty of it struck Aldreiya dumb, but something else caught her attention.
Laying on a bench in the very middle of the garden was a woman. Red roses were heaped all over her body, leaving only her face and hands uncovered. Her face was white, her hair raven black, her lips a cold, faint blue. She was one of the misty people, not quite there but still visible. As Aldreiya took a step closer though, she saw that the woman was not merely another person. She was her mother.
Aldreiya rushed over to her mother�s side and said, �Mother! Mother? Are you okay? Oh mother, I missed you so much!�
Her mother did not say anything, and her eyes were glassy and still. Her lips moved, but no words came out.
�Mother? Mother, can you hear me? Mother!�
Seth laid a hand on her shoulder. �Aldreiya, she can no longer hear you.�
�Why? Why can�t she hear me?� she demanded.
�Because, in life, you closed your ears to all of the words she said to you, and you closed your heart to the love that she gave you. You refused her love, and then made yourself believe that she didn�t love you. Look in the tarn there, Aldreiya.�
Aldreiya turned and looked into the clear, glassy water. The girl that stared back at her was just as clear. No mist at all. She turned back to Seth. �I�m one of the clear people?�
Seth nodded. �And because of you, you�re mother is one of the misty people.�
A tear sprung up unbidden in Aldreiya�s eye and rolled slowly down her cheek. Before she knew what was happening, a million more were following. �Isn�t there anything I can do?� she asked. �Can�t I have another chance?�
Seth smiled. A sad, knowing smile. Then he took her by her shoulders and turned her around to face her mother. �There is always another chance.� he whispered.
Aldreiya awoke with a start. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and her blankets were on the floor from having moved around so much. Something urgent nagged at the back of her mind, but she could not remember what. She got up slowly and walked over to the window. When she looked outside into the rose garden, she remembered.
Running downstairs as fast as she could, Aldreiya flung herself out the back door and into the garden. The moon shone and the stars danced, the stars of Cloudy Hollow, but she did not see them. A coyote howled in the distance, but she did not hear it. The grass was wet with dew below her feet, but she did not feel it.
The smell of roses filled her nose.
�Mother! Mother!� she cried, running faster and faster. She flew around the corner and stopped short at the bench that sat in their garden. Her mother lay still across it, her body covered in red roses. Her father knelt beside her, his lips pressed to her cold cheek, his hand gripping her limp one. His tears streamed down her face, and Aldreiya knew that she was too late. Her mother had already passed beyond the gate of life into the realm of death.
But Seth had said there was still a chance.
Kneeling down beside her mother, Aldreiya gingerly pushed away a strand of raven black hair. Then running her fingers down her cheek, she said in a whisper, �I�m sorry mother. I�m sorry I�m too late. I just came to tell you�I came to tell you that I love you. I love you with all of my heart.�
Slowly, ever so slowly, her mother�s eyes fluttered open, and her clear blue eyes stared into her daughter�s. She stroked her daughter�s cheek, and said in tones of love and nothing else, �I love you too.� then she kissed her brow and fell back onto the bench, her last breath being carried away on the winds of time.
Aldreiya bent her head over her mother�s cold body and cried. But the tears were not bitter, and they were not the tears of the lost. They were the tears of sweet sorrow, and though they were sad, they somehow triumphed. She would see her mother again someday.
Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, a tall man with dark hair smiled in satisfaction. The clear reflection and the misty one faded away as one figure, holding hands as they alighted. Neither had reason to be seen at all anymore, for both were loved, and both knew it. And Aldreiya realized for the first time ever that sight has nothing to do with the eyes. It is best to look through one�s heart.
The City of Roses vanished, and Aldreiya and her father breathed in the scent of roses. It was a scent they would never forget.