Foretold Memories

Chapter Four

After the strange confession Evie made, we made our way silently to the kitchen as Dauson mumbles something about not wanting to go through this on an empty stomach. After a long dance of silence and avoidance I feel obligated to say something. I don't know what that something is yet, so I stay mute and continue the façade of innocence. Dauson stands at the stove rigidly, cooking something that smells mildly appeasing. Evie and I sit on two white bar stools as I lean forward and place my elbows on the glass bench rimmed with silver stainless steel. Loren is positioned in front of the fridge, back facing me and Evie, staring at the contents. I use the moment to scan his features. I start at his bare feet, work my way up his toned legs and settle my eyes on one spot appreciatively. I grin to myself. Loren reaches into the fridge and pulls out a glass bottle of red liquid and turns to place it on the bench in front of me, ruining my view. I peer at the bottles label and read, 'Rose petal cordial'. Never heard of such a thing. Well, it does kind of make sense considering I don't know much at all. Loren returns with a tall, slender glass and another glass bottle of clear bubbly liquid. He places the glass on the counter and takes the cordial in the same hand. He opens both bottles and simultaneously pours the liquids into the glass. The two liquid streams mingle together in a sparkling dance, just above the glass and create a sparkly pinkish substance. Loren expertly twists the two bottles in a flourish of finesse to recap them and places them back in their rightful homes. The way Loren expertly handles the bottles, hints that the movements are reflexive, committed to muscle memory, as if he has been creating the same drink for years. I peer up at him and then down at the glass. I push the glass away from me using my index finger and stare downwards, feigning distrust. Despite the charade of innocence, I'm still unsure of these people. Do I really know if they are telling me the truth? Loren rolls his eyes at me and pointedly took a sip from the glass and places it back in front of me. Good, at least he doesn't want to poison me. He shakes his head at me in silent laughter. Yet. I wrap my fingers around the cool glass and take a tentative sip. Beautiful sensations explode on my tongue, tantalizing my taste buds for more. My mouth is full of a welcoming combination of sweetness and tingling sensations all at once. I swallow the mouthful and swipe my tongue over my lips, picking up any drops I left behind. "This is delicious!" I exclaim. Instantly Loren, Evie and Dauson all look at me in surprise at my sudden outburst. Control yourself.

"Well it is your favourite, so no surprise there" Dauson says, chuckling to himself as he chews the food he finished preparing. I blanch. "What? How would you know that?" I state bewildered. To hell with this innocent shit, this is getting me nowhere. "You don't know anything about me." I say poisonously. "Oh really?" He says mockingly, "So what is your favourite colour then?" Dauson says looking tremendously stern now. "My favourite colour is..." I couldn't think of my favourite colour or any colour I might even dislike for that matter. Shit, I don't even know my favourite colour. This is becoming ridiculous. I hastily glance around in a panic and find a bowel filled with an assortment of fruit. I spot a few apples, some green and some red. "Green, green is my favourite colour." I say sassily. Loren rolls his eyes at our childish behaviour. "Sure it is, whatever you say." Dauson replies sarcastically. Evie and Loren look at each other with curious looks. "Well, it is. You don't know anything about me, clearly." Dauson looks as if he is about to crack a chair over my head any second. "I know a lot more about you, then you even know about yourself." He pauses as if to ponder on his next choice of words, "Alyssa." Evie gasps, "Dauson! Don't be spiteful." I pause and look around the room, "Who?" I immediately hear Evie take a sharp breath, exhaling slowly. "You, Alyssa is you." Loren murmurs so softly that I nearly didn't catch it. Oh. This is becoming frustrating, all the not knowing. Dauson is right though, he seems to know a whole lot more about me than I even know about myself. I didn't even recognize my own name. I decide I would ask Evie about it all later, about my, well, condition. At this very moment though, all I really want to know is why I am here. Loren seems to be the leader of the group so I look back to him. "Loren right?" I ask. "Yes?" he answers leaning against the counter casually, seemingly unfased by my eventful argument with Dauson. Smiling lightly, the humour twinkling in Loren's green eyes lets me know that he knew my innocent act was in fact, an act and he was just waiting for me to give it up. Smug bastard. Correction, sexy, smug bastard. "Why am I here?" My mouth betrays my brain by letting the fear I had pushed back, surface into my words. I begin to panic. The fear first starts slowly, trickling through the cracks in my defences as more and more questions begin to pile. The cracks soon become large rifts and the terror floods through me like a damaged dam. It crashes over me like a cold and heavy burden, weighing me down as if I was chained by heavy shackles made of problems.