Author's Note: Hi guys! I am so sorry I've been so long, I feel like a terrible person. So... I've obviously decided to start a new fanfic. I just read this amazing book called The Apothecary by Malie Maloy and it is by far one one the best books I have ever read. No kidding. If you've read it, I love you, if you haven't, read it now! If you haven't read it yet, SPOILER ALERT!!! The character pairing in this story is between Janie and Benjamin, the two main characters in the book. They are such a sweet couple, and I totally ship them, but there isn't much romance in the book. Also, I looked online for fan-fiction, fan-art, anything about the book, and couldn't find it. So, naturally, I felt it was my duty as a fan-fiction writer to make some. Hope you like it!
Benjamin
I'm sneaking out again. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it. After all, love makes us do strange things. I leave my hideout where I'm living with my father in an abandoned, crumbling old building that partially destroyed by a bomb during the war. There is no way in or out the wreckage except for a dark, shattered window. I pull off my ragged, torn and fading blanket and sit up on the soft ground, a patch where we have cleared away the foundation of the building and set up shabby beds for ourselves. Father snores softly on. I slip into some old smelly trainers with peeling soles and brush silently away into the dark corner with the broken window. As quietly as I can, I pull myself through the tiny, sharp opening and sprint away into the dark.
Down the empty street, behind lagging cars, through Hyde park I run. After 23 blocks, I turn right onto a dark street, lit only by fading, dim street lamps where there is a shoddy flat at the end of the street. I crouch, out of breath, on the sidewalk clutching the stitch in my side, exhausted but satisfied. My run was worth it. I can see there's still a light on upstairs. She's still awake.
Out of my inside pocket, I draw a small glass vial with a cork. It's filled with a clear, swirling liquid like silvery water. I take a sparing sip of it and hold up my hand. The street lights are weak, but I can see my hand enough to know that it has vanished. The invisibility elixir is badly made, it is meant as a skin solution, not as a drink, and for me it is hard to find the correct herbs to mix it. I shouldn't drink it normally, but I have added some anti venom to make it drinkable
Invisible, I crept stealthily around the corner of the house and stared up the wall to her window. Around the side of the house was a tiny, weedy garden which was overgrown with prickler bushes. It was obvious no one bothered wasting their time to pull them up, but even so I was careful not to crush the plants as I stepped up on to the lowest ledge on the wall. I had to make sure no one could find a single trace I had been there. The bricks that made up the walls were uneven, badly done and perfect for climbing. I scaled the walls easily and stopped at the window. It was a humid warm night with an occasional refreshing breeze, which is why I chose this night to come. I know Janie always keeps her windows open on nights like this, and always just wide enough for me to slip through without too much difficulty.
After I pushed myself through the window, I crouched on the sill and watched her carefully. If she heard me climbing in... She hadn't. Her pen scratched on in a leather bound diary that she always writes in at night. I love to read her entries, just to see if she mentions my name. I think she'd kill me if she knew. And it breaks my heart that because of me, she never can.
Janie
Dear diary,
Today school was very dull. Our new Latin teacher, Mister Roberts is terribly strict and was absolutely horrible to poor Sergei today too. He can't pronounce the words right because of his accent and he looked positively terrified when Roberts made him go stand up there in front of the class and make him do it again and again until he got it right. I tried to talk to Sergei after class again as well, but he's still not speaking to me. Whenever I make eye contact, he gives me this sad, betrayed look and looks away. I can't remember at all why. That's another thing that's bothering me. It's been six weeks since we moved to London, but the strangest thing is, I only seem to be able to remember three. My parents have been noticing it too. The first week in London, or maybe the forth, I don't really know, we all got very sick and I think we lost our memory! There seems to be quite a lot of things I missed. Why Sergei is so sad, why that old apothecary's shop down the street is wrecked and abandoned, why Sarah, who has really been vary kind to me lately, keeps talking about someone called Pip, and why I am having strange dreams lately. Speaking of dreams, I had another one last night, just like the night before. It wasn't as scary, this one, because the dead man with the spear in his stomach wasn't in it, but I nearly screamed when I jumped off a shingled roof and plummeted towards the street. I was fine in my dream however. As soon as I was about to crash, I grew wings and turned into a robin. Then there was a flash and a man with a scar stood over me next to a pale handsome man. The next second, a man crushed a pill of cyanide in his mouth. Then there was a third flash and an incredibly cute boy with sandy colored hair said something soft and sweet to me that made me smile and then swept me into a perfect kiss. The next second, a white flash and a bird fell from the sky as he transformed into the boy I had just kissed. Then, I pleaded and sobbed at the scar-faced man. Then, the boy kissed me for the last time and left me alone in the dark. I could see nothing, but I could hear and feel sobs wracking by body and I woke up with my face and pillow wet with tears.
Suddenly there is a small creaking noise in the room which echoes off the silence. I jerk my head up and look around for the cause. Experimentally, I shift on my bed slightly and pass the noise for the creaking of springs. I pull my blankets tighter around me and scribble on.
Benjamin
As I wait for Janie to finish writing in her journal, I tiptoe across the room to an empty chair.
Creak!!!
I swear to myself.
How could I forget the squeaky floor board? Janie looks up, and her blue eyes rove around, passing right over me, suspicious, but not seeing me. I continue on to the chair. I watch her write for some time. As she lies there, here American hair tumbles across her face and she deftly flicks it back behind her shoulder. She lies on her side facing me and her hip is pushed up against the bed making her curves look full and smooth. As she writes, her arm crosses her body pushing her breasts together slightly and forcing them out of the low neckline of her nightgown, making her look irresistibly tempting. While I think about her, and what we could be doing if she remembers me, she rolls over, flicks the light off and lays in the silence for five or six minutes before falling asleep. Her slow deep breathing, the only sound in the room tells me that is is safe to get up.
Avoiding the squeaky floor board, I walk eagerly across the room. Her diary is tucked partway under her pillow. Cautiously, I slide it out. Last week when I came here I had read up to June 18, 1952. I flipped to Monday's entry.
June 19, 1952
Today school was not so bad. We are going to get a new Latin teacher. I'm not sure why we don't have one, no one really seems to know. I talked to Sarah at lunch and she said there was a tall, pale and incredibly handsome teacher called Mr. Danby who used to teach here. She thinks I must have met him because he was still there the first few days I was at school, but she must be mistaken because I have no recollection at all of him. I seem to have that with several things. Ever since I got back to school from that nasty bout of English flu that I caught I have noticed several strange things. I keep having dreams about flying over a red boat in freezing cold water. There's always a boy and a girl about my age on the deck, but I can't tell who they are. Also, I tried saying hi to Sergei in the hall today, but he ignored me. Maybe he didn't hear me. I'll try again tomorrow.
No mention of me so far.
June 20, 1952
... Sergei is still not talking to me, I just wish I knew why...
June 21, 1952
... My parents took me back to the Robin Hood set today. They can't remember any of the plot...
June 22, 1952
... Olivia keeps talking about someone called Mr. Figment, I have no idea what she means...
June 23, 1952
... I was just reading old entries in here, I wonder why I didn't write for almost three weeks. Maybe I was sick? I can't remember at all! It's really creepy...
June 24, 1952
... I read more old diary entries today. I don't ever remember "Playing chess with a cute boy called Benjamin"...
June 25, 1952
... I had a terrible nightmare last night. It started out with the same girl and boy on the ship deck. Then they kissed and I could see the boy's face but not the girl's. Then there was a flash of light and a tree bloomed with pale pinkish flowers. Then there was another flash and I saw the tree covered with withered, crumbling flowers that were black and turned to ash. Then there was a flash and I was looking into a garden where a man lay dead with a spear through his chest and the boy and girl stood over him. I woke up screaming...
I read tonight's entry. I feel so guilty that faded memories of me give her nightmares that make her wake up screaming or crying. I hate the way she describes my leaving her as, "Then, the boy kissed me for the last time and left me alone in the dark. I could see nothing, but I could hear and feel sobs wracking by body and I woke up with my face and pillow wet with tears". Did I really make her feel that bad? Though I know it is dangerous, and I know I shouldn't I want her to remember me. Maybe that is why I read the diary, just for the mere mention of me. I set the book carefully down on the bed beside me and look down at innocent, exposed and perfect looking Janie below me and wonder if she loved me too as much as I did her. Janie's sheer white night gown, which she would never wear if she never would wear if she knew someone was looking is about as revealing as if she were wearing nothing at all. I imagine how my father would scold me if he knew what I was thinking about right now. Restraining myself from adjusting her neckline just a bit lower, I comb me fingers through her shoulder-length silky hair and carefully braid it while she sleeps. I glance at her tiny alarm clock on the bedside table next to the lamp. 3:00am. I should go. I have been here almost six hours. I slide Janie's journal back under her pillow and stare at her one minute longer. Before turning away towards her window and beginning to rise from the bed.
Janie
I finish writing in my diary and I chuck the black ink pen onto me bedside table. I put my journal in its usual place under my pillow and flop over, ready for sleep. In no time at all, I drift off. After I fall asleep, I lay there for what seems like hours. Then, the dark blackness of sleep transforms into a dream. The sandy haired boy is there again. I see bits of scenes and hear snatches of conversation. The boy yells at the kind apothecary who gave us our hot water bottles and storms out of his shop. The boy shelters me from the cold as we camp under the bare tree that had bloomed and wilted in my dream two nights ago. I tail him, following him down the street. The scene changes again and again. He holds my hand through black metal bars, he holds out a large, leather bound book and he whispers "American Hair" in my ear. He plays chess with me in the park... Then it all clicks in my mind. "Playing chess with a cute boy called Benjamin"... Hadn't I wrote that in my diary weeks ago? Hadn't I said only three days ago that I couldn't remember why I had written it? Then the scene changed and I was in my own bed, looking up to see Benjamin Burrows leaning over me. It seemed so vivid and real that I reached my hand up to touch is face, but before I could reach him he was gone. I felt my arm drop to my side and my dream end leaving me in darkness again.
Benjamin
As I turn to leave, I hear a soft voice coming from Janie and I whip around and lean over her again.
"Benjamin?" she asks uncertainly, her eyes still closed, but a confused expression on her face. She reaches out her hand to touch me, closer and closer. She falters then and lets her hand drop.
"I love you, Janie," I whisper.
I brush my fingers over her soft pink lips and kiss her cheek, trying to send her the love that I felt for her that might just keep her from crying tonight. I gaze at her for a moment longer before I kiss her one last time and slip away through the window and into the night.
