Pulse (On Hold)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

<><><> 

I awaken to the smell of roses. Their fresh scent fills my nostrils as I breath through my nose, clearing my mind of my previous worries. I open eyes to find my secret world has changed dramatically. The petals covering the grass and the wild flowers surrounding the meadow are as white as snow. The scenery’s still beautiful, but it really did look more majestic when everything was crimson.

I stand up to notice that my dress is no longer red either. The elegant design remains unaltered, but the sequins are silver and the train of material behind me is cream. I curse my boring blond hair when a strand falls in front of my eyes. Why couldn’t it stay tinged like it should?

I look around in search of the two children and their parents. But they are nowhere to be found. What’s left in their memory is the boy’s ruby kite. It’s caught in the branches of a leafless tree.

I pick up a handful of petals in each hand and throw them up into the air. One by one they start to fall back onto the ground where they belong. I reach out to let the last one land in my palm, but it transforms into something sinister before I have the chance to dodge it. What falls into my hand is a black raven’s feather.

All of a sudden a dozen heavily built crows with detestable jet-black feathers land on the tree where the kite is. One ghastly looking one begins to tear away the material with its beak, while the others seem to mock me with their harsh cawing.

I start to back away, scared half to death by these monstrous things. They take flight when they realize I’m retreating and soar towards my cowering body. Each raven takes in turns to swoop over my head, teasing me cruelly. When all seems lost I break into a run and head for the edge of the meadow.

I decide to hide behind a tree in the distance, praying the birds will loose interest once they’ve lost me and fly away. But just as I reach it a man dressed in a black suit immerges from behind its thick trunk. His purple lips pull into a sardonic smirk and a pair of crimson eyes traps my own.

“Hello Emerald,” my mysterious stranger murmurs.

<><><> 

*Six hours after dream*

It’s been a month now since my encounter with my crimson-eyed mysterious stranger and it’s taking its toll.

I feel like I’m slowly going insane. Roses. Roses. Roses. Ugh! I just can’t get them out of my head! These beautiful, big red ones with fragile petals just keep invading my mind and bombarding my senses with its rapture. When I try to force my brain to think of anything else it just conks out on me. I’m literally being compelled to focus on nothing other than my mysterious stranger. 

It’s rather odd that I don’t hate that man with those entrancing crimson eyes, isn’t it? I mean the guy wanted to murder me for crying out loud! His scent was inhumanly alluring, but so what? He had red eyes! Surely that of all things would ward me off. But it doesn’t even scare me in the slightest. If anything it draws me in and makes him all the more tempting.

What’s even crazier is that I want him to be the man who kissed me in the Janitor’s closet. When I was in the moment my need for him was as strong as my need for oxygen. But really the guy could have been anyone, and even if it was my mysterious stranger, I shouldn’t be touching a faceless person in the dark!

Why do I have to be the crazy girl who thinks about her attacker twenty-four seven anyway? If I had any common sense at all I would associate him with danger. But I don’t. So I guess it’s safe to say that I don’t have any common sense.