• Absolute •

][ XVIII ][

The card dropped from my hand, onto the hardwood floor as I backed up. This wasn't the most frightful thing that happened to me ever - heck, it wasn't the most frightful thing to happen to me today. But something about it, about the threat from this unknown sender, scared me more than that demon (that's what I'm pronouncing her as) lady from the library. And to believe all this - the demon librarian, and me knocking her teeth out, Lorin and my mom meeting, and now the dead flowers and dark threat - happened in one day.

I froze, my back hitting a wall. I stared at the dead flowers - none of them the same as the other - on my bed. Then, just like it had with the librarian, my mood shifted so quickly from fear to anger that I worried I was my own threat.

Marching over to my bed again, I whipped out my arm and grabbed the vase of flowers. I held it up to my eyes, glaring at it like it was a measly rat in a kitchen. I turned on my heel and stalked toward my bathroom. I flipped the vase upside-down, dropping the dead flowers into the toilet. Then, I flushed them all down the drain.

I took the vase downstairs and opened the backyard door, my mom, who was still busy doing her own thing, didn't even look up as I stormed past, in silent rage.

Opening the backyard door, I walked until I reached the chain link fence that divided my backyard and the looming forest beyond it. I stretched my arm back, and then let go of the vase as I barrelled my arm forward. I watched as the vase arched in the air and then I heard it shatter into a million pieces somewhere in the trees. I almost felt satisfied. Now, it was the cards turn.

My mom was humming again as I walked past her, she looked up, eyebrow raised in question, but she smiled at my anger. Apparently I was amusing when I was deathly mad.

Some of the stairs creaked under my weight as I made it into my room once again. I stopped in the doorway, staring from where I stood, seething, at the piece of paper on the ground beside my bed. Slowly, as if it would come to life, I crept toward the card, my anger simmering down until I felt stupid, and accepted the fact that I was amusing when I was mad. Like a little kid who had her toy taken away.

I bent down, taking ahold of the paper in my hand. I caught a glimpse of the black ink writing before I turned my head away. Something about it scared me. Something about it unnerved me. Something about it awakened an unknown feeling within me. Like I said before, it scared me more than the demon librarian had, which was saying something.

I held the paper between my index finger and thumb, holding it as far as my arm would allow. It was like a stinky piece of cheese that I couldn't bare standing the sight and smell of. I opened my bedroom window to let a breeze in, to cool down my sweaty body and and crazy thoughts. I didn't throw the note away though. What had me feeling like I was actually going crazy, was the fact that I tucked the death threat into my drawer, underneath the piles of shirts and sweaters.

"For proof for when the police get involved - because they will." I said in a whisper, trying to convince myself that that was the true reason for why I kept it. I don't know why I kept it. Was it because my life had truly, utterly become like one of those fantasy books I read? After Ezra and Lorin, I was getting death threats and demons (or evil faeries) coming after me. Maybe. . .just maybe the sick reason I kept that note was because I was so happy inside that it was all real. And it was all happening to me.

"I'm a dead girl."

"You're a what?" A voice came from behind me, deep and clearly male. Startled, I turned away from my closed drawer and looked into my room. No one. Was I imaging things now? Was it Lorin from before - when he used to invisibly spy on me? Or was it something else? My questions were all answered when Ezra materialized from the shadows in my room. He had been wearing all black - black long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, black boots, and a black baseball cap - that I couldn't even see him in the darkness. I swallowed my nervousness.

"How - how'd you get in? When did you get in?" I asked, stepping toward him. The sun was just below the horizon and the stars and moon had began to light up the sky. I should've turned on the light in my room, even a lamp, but in the hectic and angry haze I had been in, I had forgotten. Now, it seemed even eerier and dark in my room. Something about Ezra, about his aura, carried darkness and wickedness. And I could sense it from the way that cold shiver ran down my spine and how the hair in my arms rose up.

"Through the open window." He said calmly, staring at me with his bright eyes. But right now, they didn't look bright. They held so much gloom and menace that they seemed to suck in all the light I had left in my room - which was barely anything.

"What was that?" He asked, breaking the tense silence between us.

"What was what?" I quickly asked back.

"What were you saying to yourself just now?" He replied, sounding impatient and frustrated.

"Nothing. . ." I trailed off. He rolled his blue eyes and walked forward, to me, and I held my breath. I let my breath go in relief and also disappointment when he walked past me. And to my drawer.

Opening it before I could stop him, he nosed around until I heard him crinkle a piece of paper. Oh no, oh no. . .my internal monologue screamed.

"Ezra -" I reached out and grabbed his broad shoulder, only to freeze as I felt him tense up underneath my hand. From my touch, or from seeing the note, I wasn't sure. "Please don't." I took my hand off his shoulder as he turned around. The note wasn't in his hands, but my drawer was still open. Just underneath a blue sweater, I could see the edge of the white paper poke out. I sighed in relief internally.

"Then tell me." He pushed. I looked away from the paper and up into his eyes. They were emotionless yet full of so much emotion at the same time. I didn't understand how that was possible.

"I - I can't." I stuttered. I hated how I always felt so small and helpless around him. After all, I had saved him in the very beginning, when we had first met. "I won't. It's personal."

"Oh really?" He prodded and stepped closer to me. I took an involuntary step backward. "Are you sure it isn't because you're scared out of your wits?" He took another step closer. I didn't step back in order to show him that I wasn't scared. But my shaking hands and quick, short breaths defied that. I felt like a mouse trapped in a corner. But he didn't feel like a house cat, no, he felt like a lion, great, dangerous and deadly.

"I am not scared." I managed to say steadily.

"Yes." He took another step closer to me. "You. Are." By the time he was finished saying that, he was so close that the toe of his boots touched my own, and his slow, steady breath stirred my baby hairs. I swallowed nervously and looked up from his black-clad chest and into his sharp gaze.

The next thing I know, he has his strong arms around my body, pulling me close. I didn't even have enough time to stand on my tip-toes to reach his lips, before he brought his own down on mine.

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Oohhh it just got steamy ;) (Yay! I like make-out scenes lol)

PS - don't worry, I'll keep it PG 13 . . . . . . . . . .

Maybe ;)