Amaranthine

Chapter Twenty Four

   © Copyright 2011
All work is property of Leah Crichton, any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.

Bête Noire: (beyt-nwhar)

a person or thing particularly dreaded

one that is to be avoided

 

Hours passed. We sat in my room and did nothing. Said nothing. I thought about my dad and the unmistakable burden I’d be to him if I chose to stay and fight. I thought about the guilt I’d feel if I left. Which would be less devastating? To lose a child, or to lose any semblance of a life he could have if he could grieve and move on? The same question ran over and over again in my head, but I was still no closer to finding an answer. I was only able to conclude that the burden I would be to him by surviving should have made the choice easy.

Orion was nervous. He never sat for long, getting up often to pace. I was sure he was about to wear holes through the flooring. It was driving me crazy. “Orion, sit down; you’re making me edgy.”

“Sorry. Will you tell me?”

He was still on about wanting to know what I'd seen that scared me so badly. He came at me swiftly and cupped my face in his hands. “Please tell me.”

“I can’t.” It wasn’t even the nasty thing Damien had done to me in the vision. The feeling I got from him was the most vile, loathsome, horrendous blend of emotion ever. The hatred, the emptiness within Damien was vast. 

“You can tell me.” 

“I know.”

“You might feel better if you tell me. I’ll feel better.”

If I shared what happened, it might be able to alleviate some of his tension; maybe he'd stop pacing. “I saw my entire childhood, my parents and Luke. Every Christmas or birthday I ever had. All of it. I saw the accident, Orion. I saw what you did.”

He remained silent, but nodded his head. As I spoke the words, I remembered very vividly how strong the feelings he had for me were. “I felt you, too.”

“Felt me?” 

“You, how you feel about me. I didn’t realize… I never knew it was so intense.” He didn’t say a word but his eyes burned into mine, trying to read my face. “Then I saw myself get older, and I barely wake up, Orion. I can say a few words to my dad, but that’s all. I’m dependent on him for everything.  I can’t walk, I can't talk, I can’t do anything. I felt him, too. It was awful. He was so sad.” A tear ran down my cheek. Orion, still listening intently, wiped it away with his fingertip.

“That made you scream.”

“No. No, that wasn’t it at all. He had me.” The look on Orion’s face told me that I didn’t need to elaborate on who he was. “I felt him too; he's evil.” Even putting it into words frightened me.

He shifted to wrap his arms around me and whispered, “I know what he made you feel. I’m sorry. I thought the twins would be helpful to you, not scare you more.”

“They couldn’t help it.” They were, realistically, only trying to help. “You got so mad at Alicia, I think you frightened her.” For a brief moment, I was distracted from the depraved surge of emotions, the feeling of Damien.

He sighed. “I need to apologize to her. I was so worried about you.” Judging by Alicia’s ability to allow me to feel everything he did, I was certain worried was putting it mildly.