Destined Part I

The Tower

After showering and blowing my hair dry, I walked the stairs to the tower that Grace had told me about, with Always from Bon Jovi blaring from the headphones in my ears.

The steps were made of stone, and were cracked from time and weather. There were small puddles of rainwater that had built up on the corners next to the wall. The stair well was gloomy, and humid, but somehow still peaceful. Grace had mentioned at my party that she liked to come here to disappear occasionally, and I could now see why. It was like some hidden hideaway where the only company you needed was yourself.

When I reached the door, I had to lift an iron lever and push with a good amount of force to get the large wooden door open. It stuck for a moment, but once I gave it a decent shove, it loosened, and I tiptoed into the space, taking in the surroundings.

It was just as she had described it. Private and cozy, and perfect for escaping into your own thoughts. Underneath the two oval windows was a grey stone bench protruding out from the wall of the castle. Apparently one of the women of the house had felt the drab room needed a pick-me-up, so they had placed midnight blue pillows and a matching chenille blanket on the long seat.

I settled myself in under one of the windows and wrapped the cover around my shoulders, leaning against the windowsill so that I could take in the scenery.

The tower overlooked the backyard, and all of the Browning’s land from above the fourth floor. The view was even higher than my balcony, and was on the opposite side of the house. I could see the lake and the waterfall just off to the right, and the dense forest that took up most of the view was almost eerie as it sat silently in the placid stillness of the rainy night.

The rain pattered against the glass, coming down in drips, causing a thin sheet of water to spill along the window. The clouds tonight were too thick to see the stars, and they also caused the light of the moon to scatter randomly across the tops of the trees, making the view out the window look more like a painting.

To think I actually used to hate the rain. But being here like this, where even the stormy, grey skies looked beautiful, it was beginning to feel like where I belonged. The rainstorms cast a serene glow across the background, and I found it was more soothing than I had ever imagined.

I was beginning to wonder why I always gave rain such a hard time. I used to be the one to complain and whine every time I saw the least amount of grey outside the window. But ever since this thing started, ever since I had met Haiden, I could really relate to the rain. Dripping down, from thousands of feet in the air, until landing with a smack against whatever surface was looming below. It sounded a lot like me. I had a tendency to just keep falling and falling until something had to run right into me in order for me to even slow down.

Of course, there was a time that I used to love the sun. The sun in Texas was exciting, and gave me energy, but here I was-finding that the wet, chilly weather in Alaska was somewhat comforting, even therapeutic. It was quickly growing on me.

That’s pretty much how I did everything though-quickly. I read fast, walked fast, drove fast…I even thought fast. I had to figure that is how I ended up in this predicament to begin with.

Ever since I met Haiden in the woods I have been moving too fast for my own good. From the moment I felt what happened to me when he was near me, when his skin touched mine, to practically falling apart when he smiled at me, I have let my heart open to him when I probably should be practicing patience. But I just can’t sit still-I want him to touch me so badly. I just want to be around him, to breathe in his intoxicating scent, and see his beautiful face. Even when he’s not around, I think about him. I feel him in my bones. And I want to know that he feels the same way.