Chapter 8

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The view was unlike anything I had seen before. My family had never been outdoors people, so our vacations consisted of amusement parks or museums.

The stones beneath my feet were multicolored whites, grays, and scarlets. The ground proceeded level for a few feet and then had a steep incline. The uneven sandstone built from hundreds of years of erosion stopped abruptly into a medley of autumn trees. I felt as if I were viewing a sea, and the sea had caught fire with vibrant reds, burnt oranges , and glimmering gold. It seemed like a scene only viewable in a painter's mind- too perfect for an uncreative mind to grasp. Leaves scattered around me as the wind removed them from their homes, and tossed them into the fiery waves below.

"Beautiful," was the only word I could find to describe it.

It did not seem abnormally beautiful, as Leon did- it was beautiful in its simplicity. Leon stepped to the edge of the cliff, ignoring the danger sign. He smiled like a child being praised for their artwork. He kept silent, admiring its beauty.

Compared to this angelic face, the view dulled. I almost wanted to ask him to step out of view to make it magical again.

He answered my wish, and stepped off to lean against a white pine behind me. I longed to look at the scenery a little bit more, but my eyes followed his movements on a whim. As if I were in a trance that would be broken if I looked away, I kept my eyes fixed on him. I realized my heart rate was speeding up as I became anxious for an explanation. He didn't say a word, but contemplated thousands. Strange.

In a normal situation I would have kicked him until he answered. Sure, violence isn't the answer, but it usually gets one out of them.

I was- am strong willed.

I am, so why won't I act like it, I thought. I hated love. Hate love, I corrected. I still hate it, because it aches all over.

The nervousness kicked in. My thoughts were barely able to remain, but they did still.

He glanced up momentarily, but lowered his head back in thought. How come it isn't coming so easily now? Doesn't he always answer right on the dot? His eyes became barely visible underneath his eyelashes. Black hair fell into wisps against his forehead. I studied the curvilinear figure before me. He seemed like a statue. Not a zit, mole, or freckle was visible, making him seem even less human.

Not human? Ha! I hated that crap. Fantasy novels made me nauseated. Couldn't people be interested in the real world, and stop dreaming? Creating fantasy creatures and people who perfectly dodge every bullet coming their way. It was only a way to distract people from what's important in life. Fairies, pixies, gods, fairy godmothers. Emily took me to see a therapist when I colored Cinderella's eyes black on the DVD case. I was six, and already I knew that nothing like that would ever exist. I smiled to myself for distracting myself from Leon. Cinderella never moved into a house with someone who wanted to kill her. None of the fairytales had a princess who had only her death to look forward to. Happy endings don't exist in real life. What could become happy from my situation? My parents would not magically reappear, and no Prince Charming would, or was allowed to, sweep me off my distressed feet. I would be my own Prince Charming, or die trying.

I was still looking his way, and I tried glimpsing to the side. This was so confusing. My eyes wouldn't stray from his body, nor did they want to. Sure, it was hypnotic, but even I had a stronger will than that.

In my peripheral vision I saw a jack rabbit hop out of the brush beside him, and mistake him for the scenery. He wasn't moving so I see why. A statue leaning against a tree maybe. The rabbit wobbled to its hind legs, sniffing the air for danger. He grazed a paw over a long dusty ear, and smelled the ground near Leon's foot. He must not have smelt any danger, because he seemed too comfortable beside Leon.

To Be...Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora