Levi

The bag fit tight around my neck; I could feel the drawstring zip around, closing off my airway. It was pitch black, but I could hear them struggling to control my flailing body. There were voices: screams and angry words thrown at inanimate objects, possibly people, I was unsure, and then I felt the hardness of the ground as I must have been dropped. I lay there in shock, not knowing what was happening--a loud thud, and complete silence except for a few muttered words. I thought I was safe and then was picked up again. I was calm, I assumed it was my mother or father until I was thrown into the back of a truck, my head ramming against the rippled floor before I lost consciousness...

I woke with a start, covered in sweat. The sheets were twisted at my feet and a chill ran over me. I glanced over at the vent which automatically generated air flow, wondering why I'd suddenly felt so strange. I'd have to ask in the morning. They always disabled my means of asking at night, and I couldn't know why for sure; I probably never would. I flickered my eyes then wiped the sand away. It would be awhile before they'd be back to unlock the door. Might as well go back to sleep.
The hum of the controller starting up is what woke me. I'm usually a heavy sleeper, but this recurring nightmare had me anxious. I needed to understand it, it wasn't an option for me, it was a necessity. Because the controller had started, I could ask questions. I wasn't sure if it would answer or if they'd be watching, but I had to try. I slumped against the wall in the corner, closed my eyes and asked.

The images and whispering words flashed before my eyes violently and in the back of my mind I told myself I'd never be able to process all of it before she came. So I saved it. There's a part of my mind they've never been able to reach with their machines and they don't even know it.

I stood up and padded across the hardwood floor to the recently unlocked door. I loved that the controller was so predictable. In the general room I could hear Ainslay yelling at the staff, something she never did, meaning trouble. I assumed it had something to do with my questions this morning, so I flat out apologized.
"Ainslay, I'm sorry, I... I didn't know it was something restricted, so please don't blame them. They probably knew nothing about it."

"Levi... What ever are you talking about?" This wasn't a polite question leaving an open invitation for me to elaborate, this was a true question coming from someone I'd just confused. It threw me a little.

"Ahh... About my dream last night? Err... Well... Not really a dream.. More like a... A nightmare."

"Oh really? That's unfortunate. Would you like to talk about it?" She took a seat, offering me the chair across from her. That was better. I understood how to answer these rhetorical questions; the ones that didn't need answer, but expected you to explain.

"Well..." I sat and she ushered the staff away. "It's really kind of just a blur... All I can remember is being taken, stolen away, not shown or told where we were going. I can hear voices, a woman, like you, calling my name frantically, only her voice is much softer and higher. There's crying and... And... Swearing, fighting..."

Ainslay kept nodding, even after I was done talking. I was slightly worried, but knew better than to touch her or possibly even interrupt her train of thought. Perhaps that was what she was doing, trying to analyze what I'd just said. Maybe she hadn't understood what had happened to me either. But that was crazy talk, of course she knew, how could she not? She knew everything.

"Levi... I'll umm, I'll be right back okay?" her voice shook slightly and she wobbled when she first stood up. She started across the room, stumbling over the uneven stacks of books and slowly made her way to the door. Something about the deer-in-the-headlights look she wore on her face made me uneasy. I ran to the door, debating whether or not to look out for I knew it was dangerous.

They'd always warned me of the outside world, how it was barren, there were Predator's and we were the Prey. That was why they'd removed the windows, to keep me safe. I must've stood for a whole two minutes before finally flinging open the door.
It was white, everywhere. And I didn't understand any of it. There were fragmented pieces of a white substance falling from above. I reached out to touch it and... it disappeared. It was suddenly gone, like magic. But magic wasn't real, I'd been taught to know better than that.

So what was it then? I took two steps off the porch and suddenly felt a peculiar sort of shadow fall over me. Like all the heat in the world had been sucked away, leaving only an intense, stabbing feeling of... Cold, the voice said inside. Visuals were brought to my eyes, showing me someone else's memories. I could never quite get used to the feeling, even after all these years. Yeah, it was useful, but was it worth it? I wasn't sure, but when would I ever find out?

Next I focused on the white pieces: snow. It was so pretty, not one the same as another. I learned that it only fell at certain times of the year, but couldn't be sure what time it was now exactly. This was the old way of keeping track of time; I'd only learned it because I'd begged Ainslay after she told me it had changed. But I'd also been told that the earth was now a wasteland. So far I apparently know nothing.

There were trees without leaves, the long branches covered in thick blankets of snow. A pond was sheltered by the tall frames, frozen solid. As I got closer I could see orange and yellow leaves stuck inside, preserving their beauty. Even though I'd seen pictures of the four seasons, this one had to be the most beautiful. Everything was so calm and quiet. Still, yet moving. The snow falling set the scene, it was absolutely perfect. The wind blew in circles, swirling it in every direction. I couldn't help but smile. Then I heard it.

The voice, His dreaded voice. It haunted my dreams, even the good ones. It was as if I could never escape Him. Him and His voice and His eyes. They stared through you, as if analyzing your soul. They realized I couldn't spend very long with Him before I completely shut down when I was just little, but He never needed that long. He'd enter, say his four or five words, then leave. Some people need to work hard to make you feel their words, but He did it effortlessly.

He called my name, low and sharp. I knew that I'd be punished for this. Ainslay must've told Him about my dream and it must have been forbidden. I knew He wouldn't care for my apologies, they were juvenile. He'd go straight into an attack and I couldn't risk losing my newly acquired information. He was the only one of them that could get to me and I didn't know why. They tried, but none of them were as powerful as him, which made me afraid.

So I ran. As far and as fast as I could, away from everything I'd ever known, into a snowy abyss I knew nothing about.

Levi.

Levi!

LEVI.

LEVI!

I cringed against the sound of my own name. They'd realized I was gone, I wouldn't have much time now. I ran towards nothing, just trying to put myself as far away from them as I could. It was a good thing it was morning, the Predators wouldn't be out, I'd be safe until nightfall and then I'd have to be aware of everything.

It wasn't like I hadn't had a good life, they'd been kind to me. They'd fed me and taught me everything and I literally mean everything. It's what I did non-stop all day, every day. I hadn't known anything different, so I thought it was just how it was. Apparently not.

As I grew older though, I started to feel like something was missing. I couldn't understand why, but I had this instinct that something needed to be there that wasn't. Someone like Ainslay, only different... They were just for me, she would be mine. I could ask her anything and she'd be able to tell me and comfort me when I lost hope. I could look up at her and she'd smile and hold my hand through hard times. She'd clean my scrapes and cuts when I fell, even though I rarely ever did.

When I tried to search it in my system, it told me that the file had been erased. All I had was a word: mother. So I clung onto it, hoping that one day I'd be able to find what this word was, who she was, even though there wasn't much of a chance.
As I came out of my thoughts, I could no longer see any snow. How long had it been? I looked ahead and noticed a light. It was glowing on the edge of the horizon, as if begging me to come closer. I don't know what it was that drew me in, but I followed it.

I couldn't believe my own two eyes. The heat pressed against my face was wonderful, the twinkling lights unimaginable. The roar that came from below sent tremors through me and I felt a sense of longing. How had this happened to me? How I had I been tricked like this for so long? This wasn't real... It couldn't be! I was smarter than this, it was all a setup. They were testing me.

The voice calling my name proved me wrong -- and set me in a panic. It wasn't a trick, this was the real deal and I was afraid. If they'd managed to keep this hidden from me for so long, imagine what they'd think now. What they'd do to me when they found out I knew the truth.

I had to get out of here, had to escape somehow. Only there was no exit. Standing on the edge of a cliff, with nowhere to go but back, wasn't exactly where I'd pictured myself at the end of all this. I could've slid down, it was covered in snow, so it wasn't that dangerous, but I was too inexperienced outdoors to even try.

I looked out over the sparkling city on front of me. The cars, the buildings, the pollution, the people. They reminded me of something in my past that I couldn't quite latch onto. The memory kept sliding in front of my eyes, quickly, wanting to be acknowledged, understood, but it couldn't help that it was too fast for me. Every time I got close to remembering, it would zip away again, out of my grasp.

A lone melody floated to my ears; it was catchy--bubbly and light. It repeated over and over again, seemingly important. And then, it caught. The memory opened up, triggered by this sound.

December. Cold. Mummy. Daddy. Walking. Laughing. Singing. Skipping. Music. Smiling. Bells. Lights. Colours. Doorbell. Yelling. Thrashing. Screaming. Crying. Lifting. Carrying. Throwing. Darkness.

That was it, my story, my recurring nightmare, my life. It was all laid out in front of me, as simple as could be. I could find them. I knew what they looked like now, I could remember. I opened my mouth and screamed, "I'M FREE!"

"Gotcha!" the black bag's drawstring closed tight around my neck.

Dear Annabel,

This is a short story I wrote for one of my english projects last year about responsibilty. I'm aware that it just touches the topic without completely covering it, but my english teacher said she thought that it was an interesting way to look at it. Haha, you decide.

******

Why is it that when we love something unconditionally we always seem to need to do what we think is best for them? Who decides what's acceptable and what's not? I think everyone has a different perspective on love. Like snowflakes, no two people think the exact same way. They might have similar patterns and processes they go through, but if you tracked their DNA you'd find that it's impossible to be identical. Not everyone agrees with your opinions, which is why our world will always be in conflict and is such a cruel, harsh place.

I'm sorry Annabel.

I first met him when I was only 17 years old. We just kind of had an instant connection, one that couldn't be ignored. We didn't get together however, for another three and a half years. Our lives went in different directions until we met again at a grocery store downtown. He was picking up ingredients for a BBQ he was throwing and being who he was, asked me along. I naturally had nothing to do, so I accepted.

That night went well, it's one of the best memories I have of us together, one of the rare few. We hit it off, our chemistry strong as ever and were married in a little over a year. As you can tell, I fell absolutely in love with him.

I'm sorry Annabel.

We were at a party one time and he got a little drunk -- scary drunk. From wine spritzers and champagne, kokanees and canadians, to martinis and pina coladas. I'm sure he had at least two of each. It's safe to say he had no idea who he or anyone around him was. So when he hit me, I blamed it on the alcohol. The next morning as he started to come to, he asked me how I got my black eye and I told him that I had hit my face on a doorknob while sweeping the floor. I lied to him. For him.

I used to wonder why you can't remember anything that happens while you're drunk. Experts would say that it probably has something to do with a chemical imbalance, but I refuse to believe that. You forget what happened the night before because you don't want to remember. You don't want to have to face everything you've done because all we want is to get away from ourselves and our problems. And that's no excuse. I know that know.

This was how things went in our household for most of the next year. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve this kind life and I still don't understand why this happened to us.

I'm sorry Annabel.

When I walked through the front door of our house I could smell it -- the alcohol. It reeked of empty pizza boxes and beer cans. I made my way through the hallway coming to a stop at the opening into our living room. I could hear his steady breathing from the doorway. I peeked around and saw that he was sleeping, so i tried to make my way as quietly as I could, past him and up the stairs. If I was lucky, he wouldn't wake up until after i was gone in the morning. I wasn't.

As I was rounding his chair, i didn't notice the pyramid of cans stacked beside and being a naturally clumsy person, crashed right into them. He woke with a start. I can still hear his words in my mind. His usual soft, bright voice was replaced by a deep, throaty snarl as he came straight for me. A human's natural instinct is to run away from a threat, like animals, and if they know they can't escape they fight back.

I ran; up the stairs and into the closet. I knew he wouldn't be as fast as me, he was way too drunk to comprehend what was happening and i hoped that if i waited, he'd finally get so upset and lost that he'd pass out.

I waited in the closet for what seemed like hours. I couldn't hear him anymore, so I pushed my way out cautiously. He was waiting for me right outside the wooden doors, in a daze.

I'm sorry Annabel.

Those white, gauzy curtains, blowing lightly in the summer's air. Back and forth, in and out. It was a rhythm, constant, never changing, that I focused on. It would soon be all over, I knew. I'd close the window afterwards, in my solitude, to stop the pattern, the thoughts. They'd swirl around inside until I could no longer feel myself. What can you do when you're all alone, holed up in a room that you don't want to escape from? The answer is think; and my thoughts were never right, which made the silence deafening. We all like to pretend that everything's just fine, when the truth is, it never is. Something in someone's life is always going wrong. It might be a minor, little detail, but it counts. And those white, flowing curtains helped keep me sane through the madness. They were something I could always count on to be there for me.

I'm sorry Annabel.

I found out weeks after. A month and a half maybe.. the first week of September when I left for my parents in Michigan. They couldn't tell yet, it wasn't obvious to anyone but me. I kept us a secret for as long as I could, but maybe even that wasn't long enough. It's easy to come to conclusions after the fact, you already know what to expect; but when you're dealing with the unknown, everything's a gamble and I wasn't willing to put us on the line. So I left.

There probably would've been a better time to leave, considering the -15*C temperature outside, but I knew we had to get away from him. We made our way to the nearest homeless shelter and were told we could only stay the night on such short notice beacuse of the family rule. I was so glad to finally be away from him and I could tell you were too; the way you can feel when something has finally gone right for a change. This was a step in the right direction for us. Being away from him was safer, more relaxed, controlled. And that's what I needed for you. For us.

The usual residents were wary at first. Why did this woman have such well fitting and stylish clothes? Why did she look so put together? Why, was she here? I answered all of these questions,but the last one, with ease. They seemed to understand that we were in the same situation and I made friends with a few of them. They knew where I was coming from. Especially Alanne. A lot of broken familes had come in and out of the home and a lot of them even had personal experiences that matched my own. They didn't judge me because they knew that it happened to the best of people, after all, it had happened to them hadn't it?
When they told me later that they'd be sad to see us go when he came to get me, i was shocked. I never considered that he'd want to come looking for us, I just assumed he wouldn't care that we were gone. Well, that I was gone. If he knew about you he'd be back to get us and pretend like nothing had happened to pull us apart.

She was right. We'd been at the shelter for a total of 2 1/2 months and when he walked through that door, bouquet in hand, my heart dropped out of my chest. He had come. He could see the truth now. I could tell that he was angry, I saw the flash behind his eyes, but his smile never faltered. He was a wonderful actor.

He came in close, all of my new friends were watching warily for my reaction. As he leaned in to hug me and kiss my cheek, I flinched and saw the flash again. I remember him whispering that we'd talk about you later. To most people that might seem reassuring, but to me it was pure terror. I didn't want to talk about you, there was nothing to say, nothing more to do about it.

I knew that I somehow had to get out, so I went with him, assuring my friends that we'd be alright and told them not to worry, that I'd be back. I knew I could never return to the same place, the same friends, if I didn't want to get caught again.

I'm sorry Annabel.

He yelled all the way home, as soon as we were out of view and I was afraid for your safety more than mine. He threatened us, when we got inside, disregarding my feelings and pinching me in the face, then stormed up the stairs. I heard the clash of beer cans as he made his way up. And as I looked over my newly acquired bruises, I realized I didn't have to take this bullshit anymore. That I could handle this and take care of you my way. I was gone before he knew what happened.

It's so cold tonight. I can't believe it's April and it's this cold... As soon as I walked away from the house I knew it would be tonight, so I had to prepare myself. I walked to the bridge that Alanne had once described to me and when I got there, I knew exactly what she meant when she told me that it was the best place to sit and think.

There was a wooden bench, the metal legs bent up to the sky, as if reaching for the heavens, that faced the flowing river. The rain was coming down in big fat drops, plop, plop, plop. The setting was perfect for what i had planned, but instead of going ahead with it I did exactly what Alanne told me to. I sat and thought. About what I was going to do, about how it would effect everything and everyone. Some people would remember the good things, others the bad. Some people would miss being around me, some people would forget. I could take that, it wouldn't be much longer anyways, I could already feel the pain writhing through me then.

Four hours later and here you are. You're so beautiful, crying in my arms. I know I've hurt you, which is why I can't let you suffer anymore. Stroking your tiny little fingers and toes has made me smile one last time and for a moment I wonder if I can really do this.. But it's too late now, I can see your body growing still, the morphine kicking in. I couldn't let you grow up with him as a father. It wasn't fair to bring you into a broken, abusive home. It was my fault for putting up with him and his ways, and I'm sorry my little Annabel.

You're cold now; I didn't used to believe that that happened when somebody died, but now I'm faced with the reality. It's starting to become harder for me to breathe, my eyesight is blurring and fading and I feel as if I have abolutely no energy left. I wonder if this is what it was like for you mere moments ago? But it doesn't matter anymore, soon I'll be on the other side with you, I know you're waiting there for me, for us to go together. We're going to a better place Annabel Rayne Jones, a place where he can't hurt you, or me any longer. I'm only sorry that you couldn't grow up to see that this world isn't as bad as everyone makes it out to be. That there's still sunshine through the darkness. Like what's happening right now for example. Goodbye world, hello Annabel.


Love,
Kaela Annabel Jones