Page 5 of Phoenix
I remain silent, knowing that whatever I say, whatever I do, isn’t going to make a bit of difference; it’s futile. So, I sit, frozen in fear as my warm, well-lit house gets smaller and smaller in the distance. All I can manage, all I can do, is release a tear, knowing that behind those walls, my mother sits in the living room, waiting for me to get back from school so we can talk about each other’s day.
“No need to worry, girls,” the man finally says, still driving at speed, “it’s all going to be fine now. Daddy’s going to look after you.”
“Oh, my God!” Tammy begins sobbing loudly before she buries her face against my chest, as if desperately seeking comfort in someone who is stuck in the same perilous position that she is in. “I wanna go home!”
“That’s where I’m taking you,” he says in a voice that sounds half-affectionate and half-messed-up, “we’re all going home. I’m going to look after you.”
“Let us out, you fucking freak!” Tammy screams, voicing an insult she has had thrown at her many times before by her big brothers. I wonder what they would think about their poor sister now. Will they cry for her? Will they feel guilty for all the times they hurt and upset her? Will they mourn her? Because I can honestly say, I don’t think Tammy and I are going to come out of this alive.
_____
Jessie, present
The sound of a loud crack of lightning striking the ground has me sitting bolt upright from a shallow sleep. My skin is covered in goosebumps, each and every hair standing to attention while my heart thumps wildly inside of my chest. A series of bolts of electricity from outside lights up my room momentarily every few moments, and the sound of thunder follows so quickly after, the storm can’t be far from here. I reach for my lamp, but it offers me nothing when I touch the base. No phones, no electricity, no security.
The curtains are open, as they always are, for I cannot bear to be stuck inside of a pitch-black room. I step outside of my bed to watch the waves rising from the surface in a swirling mass of white horses before they eventually crash upon the shore. It’s mesmerizing…beautiful in its destruction. However, it’s not long before my eyes succumb to finding their way to the place where that black Mercedes had turned before taking Tammy and me far away from here, away from the life I once knew but never got back. Stolen, forgotten, broken.
Another flash reveals the outline of a tall, dark figure hiding within the bushes. I stare long and hard, but it soon fades into nothing. I no longer jump or scream at these apparitions; they appear almost daily, so I have become desensitized to them. It’s just my mind playing tricks, warning me to never forget what happened, and to never let down my guard.
When there’s a knock at my door, however, I release a gasp of shock and jump around to face the impending danger lurking outside of my door. It takes me a few moments to remember that my parents are gone, and in their place is a tall, broad, stranger covered in tattoos and a complexion that doesn’t belong here.
“Come in,” I eventually croak out, then move toward the bed so I can cover myself up in my duvet. I feel somewhat vulnerable in my pajama trousers and vest top, but then, I always feel vulnerable.
Warren opens the door slowly before offering me a soft smile. “I think your power’s out; I just wanted to check you were ok.”
“Er, yeah, I’m good. You?”
I wrap my arms protectively around my knees while I take in the fact that those tattoos are still openly on show, while my father’s sweatpants are still wrapped tightly around his hips and legs. He nods, smiles, and then goes to turn around and leave.
“Wait…” I call out for no other reason than it entered my head to say it.
“Jessie?” he asks as though my sudden call for him has totally wrecked any sort of understanding he had of me.
“I know this is weird, but do you think…” I shut my eyes before I can bring myself to finish the question. “I mean, would you stay with me?”
“Sure,” he replies after a few moments. Only then do I allow myself to open my eyes again, by which point, he’s already crossing the room to crawl in beside me. The mattress dips down under his size, so I instantly shuffle back to try and counterbalance his weight, even though my tiny frame does nothing compared to his. My breathing becomes erratic, so he smiles teasingly and asks, “Are you afraid of the dark?”
“Yes,” I reply bluntly, but then feel the heat of humiliation over such a confession. “What I mean is, I’m afraid to be alone in the dark.”
Still shielded in darkness, I can see Warren studying me with a furrowed brow, as if trying to make sense of everything that is me. Eventually, he shakes his head, as though unable to come to a reasonable conclusion. He then eases himself down onto the pillow, so I do the same. We lie in awkward silence, with neither one of us looking away from the other. Him because I seem to be a source of fascination for him, and me because I’m terrified of everything right now.
“Why a phoenix?” I finally ask because I feel a desperate need to end the stifling silence between us.
“Long story,” he replies unhelpfully.
“A private one?”
He smiles widely, and even in the dark, I can see there’s a twinkle in his eyes, like there used to be in Tammy’s brother’s eyes when he was about to tease her.
“For the moment.”
I silently sigh, annoyed by his unwillingness to fill the quiet between us, however, he then leans up onto his side so I can see the pictures painted across his chest a little more clearly. Though, in all honesty, I can only really see when another bolt of lightning strikes outside. First, he points to a symbol on his right peck, “This one means ‘the past does not equal the future.’” He then moves his finger down to another one that looks like a kind of star with lines, circles, and dots, “This one is a Norse symbol for protection. This one means ‘to put fear in an enemy.’” He then travels down to his right side where he is packed with muscle and points to another, “And this one means ‘warrior’.”
I move in closer to try and look at each one in detail, marveling over the thick black lines that move a little with every breath he takes. When I reach a more intricate symbol, I look up at him to silently ask if I can touch it, to which he nods. With the tips of my fingers, I trace over the lines and swirls beneath them. He’s warm to the touch, while my fingers are icy cold, causing him to flinch at first. After a few moments, my fingers have warmed against his heat, and that’s when I notice him looking at me, studying my face as I take in all of his markings.
“Are you a warrior?” I whisper.
His eyes stare at me as he gifts me with a slow nod of his head; it feels as if he is giving me a lifeline during this raging storm. His lips move down toward mine, where they press against my mouth with such softness, I wouldn’t know they were there if I couldn’t see his face up close and personal.