The Black and the White Rose

Chapter Nine

        I open my eyes and see the tops of trees, the blue sky, and the white clouds above me. Leaves stick in my hair, the wind blows gently, and I feel relieved. I turn my head and see Damien next to me. He's staring at the sky in a daze. He turns to me with a smile across his lips. I smile in return, and he rolls over and kisses me softly. His lips taste like salt, and he smells like soap and grass. He smells like safety.
        "I love you," he whispers against my ear, then he gently bites my earlobe. My eyes close, and I cling to his shirt as he hovers over my body, dipping down against me. His hands tugs my tank top down gently. He moves his lips down to my neck, then my collarbone, and he stops. He lifts his head, but doesn't take his eyes away from my collarbone. His fingers brush over my scar lightly, like it's something very valuable. His eyes narrow as if he's remembering something.
        I touch his hand, which is hovering over my scar. "What is it?" I ask softly. He shakes his head, gazing at me. Then he smiles and kisses my collarbone delicately. His lips tickle my skin.
        Damien gets off of me and sits up with his elbow propped up on his knee. "You know...I always knew you were the one. You always have a light in your eyes, and you always see passed somebody's flaws. Like when I told you about my gift, you didn't freak out or judge me," he says. I smile and sit up. "You never doubt me. You always trust me. I am so grateful to be your boyfriend."
        My smile slightly fades. "Damien, I'm so happy that you're my boyfriend. I love you," I say. "I always will. Never forget that." I feel really happy, but there is also a faint feeling of sadness. I don't know why.
        "Skye..." says a voice behind me. I jerk my head toward them. A man, who looks a little older than Damien, stands before us. His hair is dark brown, and his eyes are ice blue. His skin is pale and flawless. His shoulders are broad, and his arms are muscular. He's wearing all black: black jeans, a black t-shirt, and black boots. His cheekbones look perfectly carved, and his lips are full and red. He is very handsome. I see his silver lip ring glimmering in the sunlight.
        I look back at where Damien was sitting, but he isn't there. I stand up and turn toward the handsome stranger again, but he is also not there. Instead, a woman is standing in his place. She is a little taller than me, and she looks a little older than me. Then I realize, she is me-an older version of me. I step away slowly and carefully. "What the hell is this?" I say to myself.
        Suddenly, she shifts into someone else. Alec. A twisted smile forms on his face, and I turn around and run. I run as fast as my legs will go. They burn and I wince with every stride. I can sense Alec following me. My breathes are sharp and painful.
        "You can't outrun me, sweetheart!" Alec shouts behind me. I turn right and dodge tree after tree. My legs are numb now, and my chest hurts so bad it feels like my heart will explode.
        "You'll get tired sooner or later."
        Then my foot gets caught, and I fall. I start to crawl forward. Alec is walking toward me, closer and closer. I scramble back onto my feet and try to keep running, but he grabs my arm and wrenches me back.
        "Let me go!" I cry. He holds my arms at my sides and presses his chest to my back. The feeling of his chest against me makes me sick to my stomach. He puts his mouth right next to my ear.
        "You're cute when you're scared," he whispers. I squirm and try to free myself. He only holds me tighter as I whimper. "Remember when I took you, and you thought I was going to do something...dirty, perhaps?" I shut my eyes tightly and the tears start to fall. He pushes me to the ground and rolls me on my back. With one hand, he holds my arms above my head. He slides his free hand over my chest, nearly groping me. I kick my legs violently underneath him, but it's no use.
        "Please!" I beg. "Stop!"
        He laughs cruelly, and pulls something out of his pocket. It's shiny and small. A knife. He flips it open.
        "I'm not gonna do anything dirty to you. That's not my style. I prefer suffering," he states. He takes the knife and drags the blade across my arm. It slices through my skin, and I let out a shriek of pain. My vision is blackening at the edges. The blood spills over my arm. I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping help will come, but it doesn't.
        He stops and moves to my other arm. He presses the knife against my skin and cuts deeply again. The pain is too much. I don't know how much more I can handle.
        "Please! Stop! Please!" I beg through the agony. To my surprise, he does. For a moment, I close my eyes and lay still, panting roughly. Then a few seconds later, he continues, only this time he slices through my side. I let out another bloodcurdling scream, and I hear muffled shouting. Everything is shaking violently around me. Then-