Two chapters.

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XV. Stay

I am not surprised when I see Jasper on my balcony. He stands there casually, like it’s normal for a person to climb up into people’s rooms. He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt and long shorts, just like any other man, but so different.

I walk closer to him and lean against the door. “Have you come to warn me that my end is coming?”

“No, not yet,” he replies. I wait for him to elaborate, but it appears he has nothing else to say. But neither do I, so I take a deep breath and un-pause the movie I was watching. I have counted to 240 when he comes and sits next to me on my couch.

“What are we watching?”

“We?” I question. “We’re watching nothing. I am watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

“Aw, you won’t care of I stay,” he says, an icy tone to his voice. This sound stops me from making a comeback remark, so I grab a cushion and lean away from him into it, trying to get lost in the world of the television. My attempts fail though. Every time I glance at Jasper he’s looking at me with a hard stare, his eyes squinting in concentration. He doesn’t even bother to look away when I turn to him out of courtesy.

That eerie feeling that he won’t hurt me yet remains, so there is nothing to stop the sleepiness as it washes over me. I bury my head in the pillow and stretch my legs out a little bit, still being cautious to stay at least six inches away from him.

The last thing I see of the movie is the picture fading to black, then tiny words dance and glide across the screen, acknowledging people that worked so hard to create the film. With one last glance at Jasper I fade away.

***

The warm sunlight wakes me up sometime later, streaming through the large doors across my room like tons of little spotlights. I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to wake up. Did I ever make it to my bed? I don’t feel like answering that question, so I shift on to my left side and try to fall back asleep.

I sigh several minutes later, realizing that it’s too late to fall back into my previous state of tranquil. I get up – off of what I now realize is the couch – and spread my arms out in a wide stretch, yawning. I blink twice to get the sleepiness out of my eyes and reality slowly blurs into place.

That’s when I see Jasper lying across the armchair next to the couch, sleeping. I gasp and cover my mouth hurriedly. But no scream tries to come out. He looks so young and innocent like this – his lips parted slightly letting out quiet breaths, his hair messy and wild from a night’s sleep, and his green eyes hidden by pale eyelids. It’s too easy to forget why he’s in my room in the first place.

Still, something inside my mind keeps me from waking him up, and I tiptoe over to my bed. It takes me a while to find some decent clothes, but then I skip over into the bathroom, closing the door behind me without a sound. My mind is racing as I get dressed, brush my hair, wash my face and brush my teeth. I don’t think about what I’m doing. My mind is set on the familiar stranger on my chair, in my room.

Walking back outside, I glance at the phone sitting on my desk. Three numbers, that’s all I really need to do. I slide over and rest my hand inches away from it. The police would take two minutes to get here. No, I could call some security guards at Stanford. They’d be here almost instantaneously. Jasper would be out of my life and taken away. I would never have to deal with this worry again. But I’d never know what he is hiding. I reach out towards the phone-

“Is this your way of telling me I need to leave?”

I spin around to see him standing right behind me, smirking. When did he get up? I gasp and fumble for the right words. “No. I wasn’t, well maybe. But. . . Yeah, you need to leave.”

“That’s what I thought.” He runs his hand through his hair carelessly, then glides past the French doors and out on to the balcony. “I’ll be seeing you soon.” With a quick rush of speed he hops over the white fencing and into the vegetation below. I hear a soft thump as his feet meet the ground, and then he is running gracefully away.

And just like that he’s gone, again.

I take a deep breath and then close the doors. I desperately want to know why he spent the night here, and why he came in the first place. But these are answers I’m definitely not going to get from myself, and Jasper isn’t very likely to tell me either.

Since there’s really nothing left to do in my room, I grab the key and my purse, then head outside. My cell phone reads 10am, so they should be serving breakfast. Or, do they wait until school starts to do that? I sigh and decide that it’s worth looking into.

When I reach the bottom floor – which is a combination of a lounge and an eating area – I find that they are indeed giving out things to eat, but there’s nothing hot that will be made until the semester officially starts. I don’t really know why, but I’ve learned that questioning schools will get you nowhere. I choose a banana, a bowl of cheerios, and a blueberry muffin, then sit at a table by the window.

“Hello, I’m Kelly, the unofficial dorm adviser here. Okay not really, I’m just a senior with experience and connections,” a short girl with bleach blonde pigtails stands at the edge of my table. She continues, “If I’m right – and I think I am – you’re new here.”

“Yeah,” I begin, “My name is Camryn, I’m a freshmen.”

Kelly isn’t done. Every tourist I’d ever met in South Carolina had been surprised at the so called “southern hospitality”, but I think they’re mistaken. Not one person in California can shut up. “Nice accent! Where are you from?” she says happily, changing the subject.

I laugh to myself, she’s the one with an accent. “South Carolina.” Then I add “You?” out of politeness.

“Oh I’ve been there once! It was gorgeous, but hot. I don’t know how you deal with the humidity.”

“You get used to it.”

She giggles, “I guess. Anyway, I actually live in San Francisco. I didn’t really want to move too far away during the time I was choosing colleges, and my parents wanted me to go here.”

“Cool.” I shove a piece of the muffin into my mouth.

Kelly whips her head around looking at something I don’t see, then smiles warmly, “I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you around. My number is on one of these fliers around here if you need it. Bye!” She scampers off and joins another blonde.

“Bye,” I murmur, mostly to myself.

XVI. He Knows

A few days later, the semester begins, and my first class is Art History. No, I’m not phenomenal at art, but I think it is beautiful, and well, why not? The worst part is that it’s pretty much the farthest room possible from the front of the campus. Someday I should get a bike.

When I finally arrive, panting since I had to run, the classroom is almost full. This is a freshman only class, so many of the students seem lonely and out of place, but a few lucky ones are already chatting busily with others. The professor is a slightly overweight man with greasy black hair and bottle-cap glasses. He has a nice smile though, so I decide he’s okay.

“Good morning class, my name is Dr. Baumann, and I am your Art History teacher…”

He talks for a long time. And I mean a long time. Twice as long as I’d ever been lectured before in High School. I take notes on my laptop the best I can, trying to organize them when he goes over things I already know. I can tell by looking around the classroom what kind of students I’m with. A good majority of them do the same as I am, looking bored but typing busily. Others, the unprepared ones, scrawl on large notebooks, their hands red from cramping up. The amazingly organized ones – I think the term nerd is idiotic – have laptops, but when you glance over at their screens everything is perfect: set up in alphabetical order, typed with perfect spelling and grammar, etc. They even have time to look up Dr. Baumann with real interest.

An hour later he goes through a variety of slides from painters that I’m already quite familiar with. I use my notebook to sketch each one and jot down quick notes. This goes on for about thirty minutes.

“Great job today everyone. Next class you will be assigned your first project that is due at the end of the term, but for now just look over your notes if you have time. You are dismissed.” Dr. Baumann grins one last time, then buries his head in some papers on his desk.

I gather up my things in a hurry, not wanting to be the last one there. But just as I am reaching down to pick up a lost pencil, somebody grabs it before me. I look up, confused, to see yet another new face. He’s skinny and awkward, like he never quite made it past the teenager phase, but his expression is one that a kid would never wear. His forehead is wrinkled with lines of worry and the corner of his mouth turns down in a frown.

“Excuse me?” I ask finally. He still hasn’t given me my pencil.

“I know you.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That is a wonderful way to start a conversation. But if you don’t mind I have to get to my next class. So may I have my-“

“I mean I know what happened to you.”

“Good for you, but if you’ve come to say you’re sorry I don’t need to hear the details.”

He doesn’t leave. Freak. “I didn’t come for that. I know exactly what it’s like. My family’s gone too. He killed them. Just like he killed yours.”

“He.. what? Who are you? How do you know this? Who are you talking about?”

“I know this because I’m good friends with the security around here, for the same reason you are. And you know very well who I’m talking about. The man with blonde hair and green eyes.”

I manage to stand up and start stumbling backwards. “Get away from me.”

He takes a step in front of me. Why isn’t Dr. Baumann doing anything? “No, I need to talk to you. I know what happened and I know how and where and when and…”

“Get away from me get away from me!” I scream, breaking into a run out of the room and outside. I hear muffled cries behind me, from Dr. Baumann: ‘Miss Taylor what happened?’ And from that freak: ‘Stop! Stop now!’

I am out of breath too quickly, and the freak is in better shape than I would’ve guessed. He catches up to me quickly and grabs my wrist. “NO!” I yelp, pulling away.

He yanks me closer to him and growls in my ear. “I know why he did it.” His grip on my wrist releases, and I fall backwards.

“You know the reason? Why Jasper did it?” I whisper.

“Jasper, so that’s his name. And yes I know why and I know the shameful truth on why he does it. I know how many innocent families he’s killed, and I know that you and I are the only ones ever to escape from him. There have been others though, just like… Jasper. Who murder people.”

“You’ve lost me…” I choke.

“Meet me in front of Dr. Baumann’s room tonight at eleven. I’ll explain everything.”

This time I’m the one to leave first, stumbling all the way to my next class. I can barely concentrate on anything that my professor is saying. But I suppose that all the teachers were notified of what happened to me, so she doesn’t seem surprised when I admit I was distracted. The day goes on like this, and after lunch at least I’m able to take notes again. But my mind shifts from thinking about Jasper to the creepy man who knows.

***

When I finally get back to my dorm room around 6pm – I had a few other things to attend to after my last class – all I want to do is sleep, at least until eleven. And for once I get my wish. After double checking that my alarm is properly set, I close my eyes and drift away.

I wake up later, but not by an alarm clock. A gentle shaking, a cold hand, an annoyed whisper. Jasper. I jolt up so fast that the whole world spins and my vision temporarily fades to black. “What are you-“

His hand flies up to cover my mouth and he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Be quiet Cam, he’ll know I’m here.” I try to pull his hand away with both of mine, but he’s so much stronger. “Just stop it, please. I’ll let go if you promise not to yell.”

I nod up and down, and I am free to speak once again. I do momentarily consider yelling for help, but I don’t. As usual. “You.” I growl, staring him straight in the eye. “You answer all my questions right now. Why are you here? Why did you wake me up? And who don’t you want to know about you? Besides the police and all of them…”

Jasper rolls his eyes and steps away from the bed. “I am here to warn you. I woke you up before it was too late. And I don’t want Chris to know I’m here.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. “You answer my questions – and yet you still manage to leave me even more clueless than I was before.”

He laughs coldly. “I enjoy mystery, so don’t expect much else. But I will say that you know Chris. And if you have any concern of your personal safety I wouldn’t go meet him tonight.”

“Well clearly I already have no concern of my safety!” I gasp, “If I did, I would’ve already called the police. And why can’t I go meet the freak… I mean Chris? He’s going to tell me more than you will.”

“Oh but he’ll twist the truth so you believe what he wants you to believe. Everything he’ll tell you is a lie,” he explains.

“So you didn’t kill his family?”

“Okay not everything…”

“Hmph.”

“He’s different though Cam. Chris wasn’t sad when he lost his family. I regret letting him escape. He looked like you did – in a much more unattractive way. His expression said he understood, so I let him go on the condition he wouldn’t tell anybody. I was younger then, more immature, and I didn’t know that he would come back to haunt me.”

“Still not getting anything…” I whine.

“I don’t want to explain right now. Just stay away from him. It puts you in almost as much danger as it puts me.” Jasper starts to walk away towards the moonlit balcony.

“Maybe I want that.”

He turns around. “You don’t.”

Yet again I believe him. I no longer want to meet Chris. I no longer trust him, and I will refuse to put up with him anymore. That is that. One day of classes and already I have somebody else to keep away from. Damn Jasper for making things even more complicated.

This message was edited by Circe on Feb 22 2009.

quote Circe

“Have you come to worn me that my end is coming?”

“I’ve got to go know, but I’ll see you around.

They should be warn, and now. But nonetheless, this is an amazing story. Been waiting for an update.

Thanks.

--

XVII. Stare

With an annoying buzz from my alarm clock and the unnaturally bright sunlight, day two of college begins. As I get dressed, the memories of last night drift around my head, reminding me of the secrets Jasper keeps hiding, and the meeting I ditched last night.

For once I was smart enough to set the alarm unnaturally early so I could take as much time as I want getting ready. I slowly stumble over to the bathroom, grabbing clothes on the way. When I’m ready I still have an hour left until my first class starts, so I go down to get some breakfast.

I’m just sitting down at a table when Chris grabs my arm. “Why didn’t you come?” he questions harshly.

I whirl around and my tray crashes down right on his foot, which causes him to jump backwards in pain and let go of me. “Get away from me.”

His eyes are squinting in pain, “Why didn’t you come.” It sounds more like a demand than a question.

“I feel asleep,” I lie.

“No you didn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jasper told you not to come, didn’t he? He’s scared of me because I’m the only one who knows his secret, the only one who can destroy him. But you could help Camryn. You and I could kill him and rid the world of the curse he brings upon all of us.”

I look down. “If you want my support you’re doing an awfully poor job of getting it… You’re just as scary as he is. Worse actually, because I seriously feel like you’re going to hurt me.”

“You don’t think he’s going to hurt you? He’s using you, and when he’s done he’ll slit your throat the same way he did to your family,” he continues.

I sidestep to the left, and bolt around him and out the door. Unlike the eerie feeling I get from Jasper, I do not trust a word Chris says to me, and in this case I’m going to trust my instincts. I walk quickly down the street towards the school. I may as well get there early.

“Mind if I join you?”

My heart skips a beat. “Jasper what is it? If you’ve come to give me another warning about Chris I’m actually running away from him right now. Or are you gonna kill me now?” I turn towards him slowly, still walking. He’s wearing dark sunglasses to hide his eyes and a long, sleek, black coat. I have to look away before my brain can process the fact that he is really good-looking.

“If you’re running away from me you’re doing a bad job.” Chris comes up on my other side, and now I’m sandwiched in between the two creepiest people in my life.

“Good god!” I exclaim, speeding up my pace.

“Chris leave the poor girl alone,” Jasper growls. My eyes widen as I turn towards him – is he actually trying to protect me from something? I mean someone… Unless my world is clouded with lies, then Chris must be pretty bad in order for Jasper to not want to deal with him.

Chris smirks in response. “Don’t be a hypocrite now.”

“I heard what you said,” Jasper says, “And maybe someday I will slit her throat but it’s far better than what you’d do to her.”

“Um, guys?” I say shakily, “I’m right here…”

They ignore me and continue arguing about who’s a bigger danger to me. And I’ll admit it isn’t a conversation that makes me even slightly comfortable. But every time I try to interrupt one of them shushes me and they go at each other again. I still have forty minutes until my first class, but at this rate who knows if I’ll make it there alive?

“You think she trusts you!?” It’s Jasper speaking, his voice raised higher than I’ve ever heard it before.

“Yes!”

“I-“ I try to interrupt.

It fails, “Well let’s see.” Jasper challenges, his tone quiet now.

Both of them step outwards until their a few feet away from me on either side. And I’m stuck in the middle. What, did they want me to choose? What kind of joke was this? I can just tell them who I trusted more. Although the truth is my life was much better before I met either of them, so neither is too trustworthy.

“Choose,” Chris demands.

I glance left – Chris – then right – Jasper. And then I run straight forward.

“GET BACK HERE!” Chris starts running after me, but I have a big enough lead to get to campus before he’ll catch up to me. But Jasper remains standing still, and he’s taken off his sunglasses so his green eyes seem to see right through me.

I bite my lip and forget about him, so I can concentrate fully on running. And finally I’m safe within the pathways of school. I slow down to a walk and decide to get to my classroom early, where I’m under the watchful eyes of a teacher. The last thing I see, as I’m opening the door, is Jasper staring at me that same way.

And for once I cannot read his expression.

Wow, Circe, this is amazing. It took me about an hour to read but it was totally worth it! I swear, you've actually inspired me to go off and write my own story. I didn't notice this thread until recently, so out of curiousity I decided to read it.

This is really good. There are a few grammar errors where you could place in some commas, but otherwise, there's really nothing else that needs to be fixed. I'll be reading!

Thanks so much for the compliment! I'll make sure to read your new story too. If only Microsoft Word caught all of my little grammar errors. >_>

XVIII. Vulnerable

All is quiet in my dorm as it nears ten o’clock, and the truth is all I want to do is sleep. I don’t even bother changing into my pajamas, I just brush my teeth and crawl under the covers. I can’t even remember if I turned off the light, but sleep comes over me like I’ve been drugged and it’s less than a minute before I’m lost in my world of dreams.



I wake up to music. The soft and gentle sound of a guitar, almost like a lullaby that’s stuck in my head. I climb out of bed and walk out to the balcony, following the sweet melody. Lost in a trance, I climb over the fence and use the surrounding trees to lower myself to the ground, then I walk barefoot away from the building.

The song grows louder and I know I’m close. But what am I doing here? It’s past midnight and I look like crap. I don’t stop though, and now I’m near enough to hear a quiet voice, mumbling lyrics that I can’t comprehend. A male voice.

I’m careful to keep my footsteps quiet as I stand behind the tree that separates myself from the music. I wonder if I should step forward to figure out who plays it. If I don’t, I will forever be curious about the beautiful song that night, but if I do the music could stop, and the creator could run away and refuse to continue.

In the end curiosity gets the best of me and I step around the tree.

He doesn’t hear me. His eyes are closed in concentration, and the only things that move are his hands and his mouth, whispering words. For a moment I’m thoroughly convinced I’m dreaming, it doesn’t make sense.

“J-Jasper…” I murmur, so quietly that even I barely heard the words.

But it was enough. The music stops and he jumps, startled. He looks at me and his eyes flash with a look I perceive as vulnerability. He stands up slowly, setting his guitar against the grass on top of a white pile of paper with words and notes scribbled across the pages.

Jasper is a musician. I feel such a strong wave of emotion that it’s difficult to stand up. All my life I’d loved music, it was my drug. A cure to depression, boredom, and loneliness. Something that could make you laugh or cry or dance. Ever since I was in high school every guy who wrote songs or played an instrument (well, other than the band geeks) was a potential boyfriend in my eyes. There was something about making music that drove me crazy.

So here he is – a gorgeous, smart, strong, fast, and musical man. So perfect, but one awful thing standing in the way. Murder.

“Well?” he asks, “What do you want?”

I look away, “I just heard music so I came…” My voice involuntarily fades away.

“There’s nothing else to see here Cam.” He leans down to pick up his stuff, preparing to leave.

“What song was that?” I blurt out.

“None of your business,” he snaps.

“Yeah well, my life isn’t really any of your business either yet here you are.”

He sighs in defeat, “Something I wrote.”

“Oh…”

“Shall you be going off to bed now?”

“I don’t think I can fall asleep for awhile,” I admit. He shrugs, then after another minute he sits back down against the tree and starts writing in a notebook. I sit down Indian style a few feet away from him and watch. I notice the little things he does as he writes. Every three minutes or so he’ll run his left hand through his hair, and when he bites his lip he begins to write much faster. When he pauses his eyes squint in concentration, and he clenches his left hand. Why do I notice these things? I don’t know, but I do.

After he looks up at me for the sixth time, I can’t take the silence anymore. “Can I see?” I ask.

“No,” he says simply.

I rest my elbow on my knee and put my chin in my hand. It’s not quite comfortable, but I’m painfully bored. Yet I can’t bring myself to leave.

Almost ten minutes later Jasper gets up in one swift motion and starts walking across the grass. I take it as a signal that he doesn’t want me around anymore so I slowly head back to my dorm. The third time I turn around, he’s looking at me. “Hm…” he whispers, “I thought you were coming.”

I’m confused. “Well clearly you don’t want me to come.”

He laughs icily. “Now Cam, when did I say that?” I roll my eyes, but begin to walk towards me. He continues, “Isn’t life easier now that you trust me?”

“Not necessarily. I’m still waiting for the day you decide to kill me, and Chris is creeping me out,” I say.

“That day – if it must come – won’t happen until after you know my secret.”

“Well let’s get that over with then. Why do you kill people?” The words pour out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“You really want to know now?”

I begin to nod my head, then hesitate.

“The thing is,” he explains, “It is in your best interest to believe what I say. If you don’t, you’re of no use to me anymore, not to mention the fact that you know the secret. If you do, yet you don’t agree to help me, then once again there’s no need for me to keep you around.”

“O-okay…”

The right side of his mouth pulls up in a half-smile. “Then come on, let’s at least get out of this campus.”

I pause, “I’m not allowed to leave the grounds without permission. It was in the rules…”

Jasper chuckles. “You think I care about the rules? Besides, if they find out you say that I grabbed you in the middle of the night but you escaped again, and so did I. It’s simple and you have excuses.”

“True.”

“Then hurry up.”

For some reason he starts running, and I have to full out sprint to keep up with his relaxed jog. But I don’t complain, mostly because I don’t want him to know that it’s hard for me. Once he gets out on the streets he slows down to a walk, and I bite my lip to keep from panting loudly.

“I’ll talk as I walk. That way there’s a smaller chance that anybody will recognize me. Every shop owner and police stations has a description of what I look like. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, returning his sarcasm.

“So I’ll begin from the beginning. It was late Sunday night when I was seventeen years old, back at home in Maine. Something happened that changed my life forever.”

---

Haha, suspense. <3

quote Dark Arcanine

Too much talking and not enough setting establishment, calling for an increase in descriptions. It reads less like a story and more like a script.

quote Harvest Hunny

I think I have to agree with Dark Arcanine here. There's just wayyyy too much dialogue and not enough description tbh. There was a lot in the first chapter to establish the scenery and stuff, but now there's just a lot of dialogue. .-. Sometimes too much chatting can be boring for the reader.

Looking back at the last few chapters I do understand what you mean. I personally am I huge fan of dialouge (I read a book with almost none, and I absolutely hated it... but I suppose the lack of conversation really wasn't the main reason. xD) I will work on that, and I think if I focus enough I can make the story move along without too much talking in the future. Thanks for the criticism, it helps a lot. ;D

Well the next chapter is pretty much going to be completely dialouge since Jasper's talking the whole time, but I'll do it in a way like it was his perspective so there's just as much description and such. Expect it to be posted sometime before tomorrow.

Thank you all for taking the time to read it and leave comments.

Thanks for the comments!

Okay guys, two chapters since I didn't want to leave too much of a cliff hanger. Umm, I tried to make the explanation go pretty quickly so if something doesn't make sense please tell me.

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XIX. Jasper’s Story

“I remember it as if it were yesterday. Every word, every sound, every action. I can picture it all, and I still can’t quite decide if that’s good or bad. But either way, I feel it’s necessary for you to hear the story from my perspective and not like an outsider looking in. Maybe that way you’ll understand why I did what I did, and it’ll make more sense. But I want no interruption Camryn.”

“It was around nine at night in Presque Isle, Maine, the pretty and quite town where I had lived since I was four. My family had never been poor, some may say we were rich. We owned a large white house on the edge of a park with an extravagant design and a comforting interior. It was a shame that the house was never clean though. I had a large family, three brothers all younger than me - Jamie, Kevin, and Baylee, and one older sister - Elizabeth. I always picked on her terribly, all of us did. She was the female in a male dominant house. There were times when she hated us, she’d go up in her room with our cat Cupcake and sit in there for hours, blasting music that rattled the whole house. Mother and Father never complained or told her to turn it down, since the truth was she had a reason to want to get away from us. But in the pauses between songs I could sometimes hear her crying, so quietly that only I – living in the room right next to her – could hear. I came so close to going in to comfort her, or to at least apologize. But I never did, and I’ll always have a hole in my heart for that.”

“At the time my whole family was gathered in the living room along with my grandparents and my cousin Bradley. There was no occasion or anything, we were just all together. Then a knock sounded on the door, quiet and secure. It was so strong though that it sent a wave of shock throughout the front room, or that could have been only me. I’ll never know. Baylee, always the curious one, had bounded across the carpet to the door before Mother could say wait. He had a huge grin on his freckled face, so wide that you’d think he was convinced the visitor was Santa Clause. Kevin was a few steps behind him as usual. Those two were twins by the way, and they were always very close to each other. Although you could tell the one with character was Baylee.”

“The moment he swung open the door a bullet was fired. Loud, fast, and unforgiving. Baylee fell backwards, a blood stain on his little chest and the whites of his eyes showing. Mother ran forward in a fury, her arms flailing and her voice shouting words of rage and loss. Everything happened in fast forward. Mother was shot mid stride, only feet away from the visitor. Her body tumbled at his feet, her mouth twisted with a cry of pain. Kevin had crumpled on the floor beside his twin brother, sobbing so hard that his whole body shook. But then all too soon it feel motionless, and he lay next to Baylee.”

“The room was a hurricane of screams and shouts and gunfire. I was blinded by my terror, and I felt lost an alone as my family fell down around me. Elizabeth and I were the last ones left. We sat huddled in the corner, holding on to each other for dear life. ‘I love you Jasper…’ she whispered, tears running down her pale cheeks. I held on to her tighter, cherishing every last moment. It’s strange how it takes trauma to realize how much you need somebody. If only I had known what was going to happen that night. I would have lived my life so much differently.”

“I remember Elizabeth’s final scream as the stranger pulled her out of my arms and only one second later a scarlet stain spread across her white shirt. ‘What do you want?’ I had cried, so beyond any pain, beyond any strength. There was nothing but loss and hatred.”

“’My time with this is done,’ he told me. ‘Take this note.’ He shoved a crumpled piece of paper in my hands, but I let it flutter to the floor. He looked at it as if telling me to pick it up, but I didn’t. I wanted nothing to do with him. He shook his head slowly, then lifted his poisonous gun up. He stepped forward, cornering me against the wall. Then he pressed the weapon in my shaking hand, and I could feel it’s unforgiving structure, knowing that one movement of my finger could take away a life. He pulled my hand with the gun in it towards him. Then with one swift motion he pressed on my index finger and the gun fired straight into his throat. He was dead. My hand had killed him. I had killed him.”

“And then, surrounded by a roomful of broken bodies, with no surviving witness and my fingerprints on the gun, I took the note and ran. I ran past miles of trees until the soles of my shoes gave out and I was running barefoot against the cool soil. I ran through countryside and cities until the moon was the only light still on. I ran more than I could’ve ever dreamed of, and I never got tired. My muscles never ached, my lungs never burned, my chest never cramped. It made no sense. I had not been a major runner. I had a good mile time and I wasn’t out of shape, but there was no way I could’ve run for more than eight miles without stopping. And there I was, at the border of Canada and still able to keep going. It wasn’t an adrenaline rush anymore, since those only lasted minutes. I was so confused, alone, and heartbroken. Just like you.”

“I found a hidden cave somewhere in a forest in Canada, and took refuge in it. There was a boulder in the way, but with my newly found condition moving it was no problem. I hid in the dark cover of the rocks until sunrise. Then I crept outside and opened the note he had left me. It was written in bright red ink, with handwriting so small it was barely legible. I had to read it twice through to understand everything. But by the end it all made sense. Why the stranger had murdered my family, why he’d killed himself. But the most important thing I had learned was that I was now cursed.”


XX. The Curse

They say that anger is red, sadness is blue, fear is black. And shock is white. A brilliant flash of light that blinds you, so bright and powerful that nothing makes sense and you’re forced to wander around in circles until the shock fades away. Shock is a combination of every other emotion, like a beam of white light is made up of every other color. It contains the most energy, and it takes the longest to recover from.

So stuck in a flash of white shock I can barely remember to breathe. And only half of Jasper’s story has been revealed. He has stopped walking, standing and looking at me in silence. His eyes are surrounded by red, like he’s been crying.

When I find my voice it is quiet and weak. “J-Jasper I’m so sorry…”

He glances away, then looks back, “You went through the same thing, there’s no need to be sorry. Just like there’s no need for me to feel sorry for you.”

I rub my temple with my right hand, then close my eyes. After all of this, he still manages to have that icy tone in his voice. The one that scares the living hell out of me, and can convince everyone that he simply doesn’t care. I take a deep breath and try to match my voice to the same tone, “So are you going to tell me the curse or what?”

He looks at me like I’m the one acting indifferent. “Yeah, I will.”

“They say it was created by the devil itself, given to a man who had sold his soul. A human to do evil’s bidding, even when he no longer wanted to. Whether I believe that, I’m not sure. But no other explanation makes sense. Now it travels from generation to generation, and it can be given to anyone. Women, man, or child. There are good aspects and bad aspects of it, though the bad heavily outweighs the good.”

“Every month, the cursed subject must kill at least one innocent person. It’s not a choice at all. I’ve tried to fight it, and for awhile I thought I’d won against it. But that night I woke up in the middle of a room with a dead body on the floor and a knife in my hand. There’s no point in fighting it. Now, the reason I murdered your whole family is practicality. If I kill, say, five people. I can go without it for five months, or close to that. Therefore the events are spaced out and the police are less suspicious.”

“I suppose you may be curious what could possibly be good about this. Well, like I mentioned earlier, the speed. Or not so much speed really, the stamina. I’ve tested myself and I can run for ten hours straight with as much ease as you running for one hour. I am nearly three times stronger than an average person, and my reflexes are roughly five times better. When the curse was made apparently, the devil wanted his jobs done easily and done well. Also, for every three years you’ll age, as long as I have this curse I’ll age only one.”

“So, why haven’t I killed myself to get rid of this? Two reasons. One, the curse won’t go away. It will get passed to either the closest person I am connected to emotionally, or the person who kills me. There’s no way to win against it, that I know. That’s where you come in, I guess. Every curse can be broken, evil or good. But I’m sure I can’t do it alone. I want you to help me. How? I don’t know. I have no idea whatsoever where to start. But somehow I’m going to end this, or die trying – and there’s the catch. If I die somewhere along the way, and nobody actually killed me, you’ll be cursed since by then we will most likely be close, at least closer than I am to anybody else. Basically, we succeed and the world is rid of this awful thing forever. But if we don’t, then you must suffer every time someone new dies the way that I have.”

The white shock is replaced with black fear and confusion. The logic I’ve always known is fighting against the words I’ve just heard, words that I can’t help but believe. I grew up as a little girl loving anything to do with fantasy and the impossible. Flying, magic spells, fairies, vampires, you name it. But now I’ve come face to face with a curse and the only thing I want is to pretend it doesn’t exist.

But it does, I can see it in Jasper’s eyes. And I can feel it in the pit of my heart. “For god’s sake Camryn say something, you’re driving me insane,” he sighs.

I groan, “Give me a minute here! How quickly can you expect me to take this all in?”

“Well if you can’t believe me just admit it, because I have a knife right in my back pocket and you’ve said you don’t like waiting.” He absently moves his right hand behind his back, and I shiver.

“I believe you,” I whisper.

“Good,” he replies before I can continue. “Then allow me to walk you back to your dorm.”

I nod and we begin walking back the way we came, but everything is different. All of the trees sway violently in the wind, bringing icy winds that send chills up my spine. I hear voices behind every bush, around every corner, whispering quiet words of pain and suffering. I hear laughter from the skies and screaming in the ground. It all gets stronger, louder, so unbearable that…

“What on earth are you doing!” Jasper shouts, putting his hand over my mouth.

I close it slowly, finally realizing that I had been screaming. “I’m sorry I just...” my voice fades away. He shrugs and wraps his hand around my wrist, as if to hold me on to the world of sanity. I try to keep my mind clear the rest of the way, focusing on happy thoughts like music and friends. I can’t seem to last very long though, because one thought bounces through my mind until I become so curious it’s too hard to bear.

“What about Chris?” I blurt out, causing Jasper to gasp.

His usual expression returns quickly. “Chris is the real villain in this story. Think what you may of me but always know that if he wins the world loses.” I contemplate his words, but I really can’t think of ways that a guy like him could be dangerous.

“Are you going to tell me how?” I question quietly.

“Later.”

That is the end of the conversation, and soon after we reach the dorm building wall. I manage to climb up by myself, even though I take much more time than Jasper does. Once inside he closes and locks the French doors securely, then sits on the couch.

“Do you mind if I stay? As you know, I don’t trust Chris.”

I find myself muttering ‘yes’ as I slide under the covers. When I sleep I have nightmares of miscellaneous things, disturbing events where I’m always screaming or running away or simply going insane. My life has just gotten that much scarier.

[size=1][color=#666666]This message was edited by Circe on Feb 24 2009.

quote Circe

I remember Elizabeth's final scream as the strange pulled her out of my arms

That should be either, stranger, or strange man/person.

I'm really getting into this. Really good story. And, I think I know why Jasper, doesn't like Chris.