The Pain Of Their Presence - Sequel to Sound of Their Presence

Chapter Thirteen: Not Falling Anymore

Shane's POV

    I hardly reach my hand out fast enough. I am hardly able to grasp Cheyenne's thin wrist in my fist. I stare into her wide eyes. The blue surrounding her pupils clearly show her fear, her petrification. I reach my other hand out for hers. Cheyenne is beginning to slip, and I don't know how I would cope. 

    My mind is like a live wire. Sparks jumping across it, as I am flooded with memories. I can't let the dizziness overtake me, for I shall drop Cheyenne if I do. She must have been in some kind of trance. No person goes over, singing so calmly like that!

    Cheyenne hugging me, the electricity of excitement after something good happened. An undeniable sadness overpowered by the beautiful, happy moments.

    Kera and I in the park, licking our melting ice cream from the waffle cones. Hers one scoop rasberry, one sherbert, one bubblegum, marshmellow sauce dripping off of the top of the ice cream stack, and three gummy worms hanging out of her mouth.

    Cheyenne bleeding beneath my hands. Relying on me to remove an arrowhead from near her spine. Save her in a sense.

   I have to fight between the old memories of Chyeyenne and the newer, familiar ones with Kera. What is real and what is just from my past. Both distant and recent. I have to discern what is real.

    Throwing the fuzzy, flourescent tennis ball for Kera's cat, who though himself a dog in many aspects. Pulling Kera in for a quick hug as the obese, flaming cat pounced on the ball, which rolled farther away each time. Smiles exchanged.

     But then, exchanging smile with Cheyenne, hearing her laugh, as she refrains from translating something funny that a German man says-

    No! This is what is real! Right here, right now! Cheyenne is grasping my fingertips with all her remaining strength. If I don't pull her up now, she shall plummet to her death. Get a grip . . .

      Get a grip, get a hold on reality . . .

    With one last grunt, I roughly yank Cheyenne up from the edge of the bluff and pull her into my lap. Her shining dark pants beneath the moonlight look tattered on top pf my jeans. When she notices me staring at her black clad legs, Cheyenne glares at me, befor turning on her heels and jogging away from me.

     I try to shake the jumbled thoughts from my head before pursueing her.

    "Cheyenne! Wait up!"

    She actually turns around, and I run into her, caught by surprise. I didn't remember everything from the past yet, but I remember that she never made things this easy. "What do you want, *sshat?"

    "*sshat? That's a new one-"

    "Get to the point," Cheyenne shoves against my shoulders. I stumble back a few feet, before reaching forward and grasping her wrist, lighter than when she was falling off a cliff.

    "I don't know anymore." I only get a raised eyebrow. "I mean, I remember so much more. But . . ."

    Cheyenne's lips against mine. Me being shoved for pushing myself on her, or whatever reasons she had. Cheyenne being the one to kiss me. The confusion of it all. The instincts.

   "What? But what, Shane?" I press my lips against hers. Maybe this will turn out better than in the past.

    Cheyenne is breathless when she reminds me, "What about that girl? The one from the park?"

    Kera . . . D*mmit! "I don't know. Kera? She . . . Ugh!" Why did I always forget ot screw something up?