When Darkness Dawns

Damn the World

After I finished my song, I could no longer look at the four men that plagued the audience like an impending storm on the horizon. They just made me feel things I've never felt before, so I knew I had to leave before I made confessions I've never made before. Said things I've never said before. Done things I've never done before. And I left to find the one person who I've always been able to depend on. I left to find Sylvia.

First, I checked my room: the place she always stays in when my father throws his extravagant gatherings. She wasn't there. Then I checked the ensuit attached to my room. She wasn't there. Then I checked her room, as she lives with us. She wasn't there. Then I scoured the whole entire house. She wasn't there. And so I soon found myself storming out of the house, past all the people who tried to stop me. I didn't realize I was crying until I made it outside and the soft breeze hit me in the face like a thousand little needles pricking my soft skin.

And I didn't realize three men were at the doors to my overly-large house until I heard three surprised gasps leave their mouths. And I didn't truly realize God worked in beautifully cruel ways until I turned around and three more other-worldly men stared back at me. Damn, did I feel stupid and embarrassed in that moment. But I couldn't really focus on anything other than finding Sylvee. She's my everything, and nothing means anything if I can't find her.

I don't comment on Raven's name for me, little bird. Or Brandon calling me sweetheart, or North calling me Sang Baby. And I try not to pay attention to the way my heart flutters with the way each of their names for me roll off their tongues, the way it lights me up--just like those four other men make me light up.

I only pay attention to the way my nerves rise and my heart squeezes in pain at the thought of never seeing Sylvia again. I know something is wrong; she'd never leave without saying goodbye. And I know this for a fact because in the near fifteen years I've known her, she's never failed in giving me a kiss on the head before leaving the house. Never. Something is definitely wrong here.

"Where do you think she could be, malen'kaya ptitsa?"

Again, my heart does a little flutter. "I don't know; I checked all the places she could possibly be and she wasn't there. I'm just nervous. She's never left without saying goodbye before. In fifteen years, she's never left without saying goodbye. I-I don't know what to do. Something isn't right." I realize that my mouth is starting to run away from me, so I bite my lip in order to stop talking.

The three of them are behind me, about three feet away, yet I can still feel their warmth as if it's pressed against my body. Like they're hugging me from behind. The thought makes a shiver run down my spine.

But then I'm suddenly halted when I hear North muse, "What if there was an emergency at home?"

I turn around like someone lit a fuse on my ass, and I spark up like a firecracker. "If there were an emergency at home, she wouldn't actually have to go anywhere. That's why I'm so scared. She lives here, with me. I'm her only family." And I can't help the little whimper that escapes me when I say to myself, "I'm her little cub." Though I know it was loud enough for them to hear, I don't let that stop the sadness from rolling over me like crashing tidal waves, threatening to drown me in the depths of grief.

And then it feels like just that--like I'm being engulfed in grief and anxious thoughts. It feels like it's smothering me, wrapping around me like a sea of liquid blue sadness. Dragging me under and washing over me. Slowly killing me. Slowly drowning me. And then I realize, this feeling is actually quite warm. It's lighting me up, and instead of cold abysmal waters, it feels like hot eternal flames.

The scent of gunpowder and rich cologne overtakes me--a kind of smell that seems like it would be very unappealing, but is actually gifting me a kind of comfort I've never experienced before. And when my senses finally begin to come back to me, I notice the way two very muscled, tattooed arms are wrapped around me, hugging me like I'm the most precious jewel. It's gentle, and yet firm. My head is in this man's neck, breathing in his beautifully manly scent and basking in his warmth.