COSMOS | Complete

THE WATERFALL: 3

A few weeks later, Saturday afternoon, I decide to escape.

Just for a little while. Just a little away. A short serenity, then back to the turbulence.

I tell Sofia that I will be gone during dinner, and she makes sure I've packed myself enough to last me three days. She doesn't ask where I'm going, just requests that I be home before midnight.

I stop at the entrance to the forest, parking my car beside the trail. Then I dig a sandwich and a bag of chips out of the basket of food that Sofia stocked and pack them in my backpack. I'm not sure how long I'll be staying, but I know I won't be too hungry.

The cold wind nips at my cheeks as I begin walking down the path that I've grown increasingly accustomed to. December is well on its way, though it's not evident in the forest around me – if it were any person not native to Oregon, one would think that the state's still in late fall.

Some people hike with music, I hike with the orchestra. The snapping leaves under my feet are the only sound I need. Two months ago, I would have been blasting Aaron's playlists, but now, I'm not sure if I can handle the slightest music.

After a bit of searching, I finally reach my destination – one of Aaron's coves. He's hidden it well: the entrance is shrouded by bushes, the faint A the only sign he ever even came. Hunching down on my hands and knees, I push through the shrubs, wincing as the branches graze my cheeks. I emerge into a small, empty space, covered by tiny trees, isolated from the rest of the green world around it.

Aaron has done a good job of keeping his small home clean, but it looks as if he hasn't stopped by for quite some time. The previously clean, dirt ground is now littered with fallen leaves, crunching under my knees as I move to sit on the moss pad. Aaron only has one seat in his cave. I'm sure he wasn't expecting visitors.

There's a tree trunk conveniently behind me, and I lean back, letting out a slow sigh. It's much quieter and warmer in here, almost as if the branches and trees have embraced me in their long, leafy arms, protecting me from the world around me. I feel like an intruder, violating the secret that Aaron had kept from everyone else, but it is comforting to be in a place he was in before. Instead of letting go, I'm holding on. I'm sure this will hurt on many more levels, but at this point, I'm desperate for any sort of feeling. It works – my insides have already begun to warm, and my heartbeat slows to a quiet thump. Comfort.

I sit there for a bit, breathing in the nature around me and letting the air dispel my thoughts. I don't want to leave, but the curiosity to explore Aaron's other hide-outs compel me to get to my feet and crawl out.

Though his little homes have done marvels to help relieve my stress, my insides crawl when I find his next coven. This is wrong. This is trespassing. This is taking what he gave me, throwing it in his face, and setting it on fire.

I tell myself I'm not doing any harm, I just want a little peace; but at what cost, exactly? I lost Aaron's trust the first time, and here I am again, using it for my own good.

Still, this thought doesn't stop me from slinking into the opening of a tree trunk, hidden by a curtain of willow leaves. The inside is much roomier than the outside, a little space hollowed out, the only light filtering through the shield of leaves.

There's more bugs and other critters in here, and I don't stay long. Aaron has three 'caves', the last one located under the waterfall.

It's a tricky spot to get to, but I manage to scramble down the ravine with only a few scrapes. Trees and bushes claw at my hands and feet as I clumsily work my way down, but by the time I'm at the pool below the waterfall, I've only received a few cuts and bruises.

It's just as loud and cacophonous as I remember. Being this close to the thundering waters brings back a new onslaught of memories, and a headache. I'm not sure what triggers my painful episodes, but I'm starting to think that loud noises are one of them.

I close my eyes against the spray of the waterfall, showering my face with icy drops of dew. It's even colder down here, my cheeks quickly going numb. I stuff my hands into my pocket, dip my head against the shower of mist, then begin running towards the waterfall.

The earth beneath my feet squishes and dips with every step, like quicksand. My head rings with my loud surroundings, the wind harsher down here and buffeting my hair into my eyes. It's a miracle that I get to the little cave behind the waterfall at all – it's a tsunami out there.

The dark opening welcomes me as I dip inside, sheltered from the wind and the water. It's dark and cavernous, a steady stream of dew dripping from one corner of the ceiling. I crouch in the far back, pressing my cold body against the stone and curling into a tight ball. With a shudder, I sit there, watching the water pound down in sheets in front of me, covering half of the cave opening. From my vantage point, it's looks like a curtain of grey-white.

I shrug the backpack off my shoulders and find the sandwich and chips I packed for myself. I'm far from hungry, but I force it down anyway. The bread tastes like sandpaper on my tongue, but I choke it back with a swallow. I haven't eaten since lunch, which seems weeks ago.

I leave the bag of chips unopened. The rush of the water seems to have stolen my appetite with it. Shoving my backpack behind me, I lean against it and stretch my legs, pulling my hood up around my face. It feels like camping, but I'm hiding away in a cave that isn't mine.

I whisper, "What are you doing?"

I wait for a response, but of course, I get none. Perhaps the cold is making me delirious, freezing not only my toes, but my brain too. That wouldn't change much, however – when has my brain ever proved to be a bit useful?

I picture Aaron's reply. "Is that rhetorical?"

"You don't even know what that means."

A laugh. "Yeah."

We sit in silence. His head is in my lap, and I'm rubbing his ears, little blocks of ice attached to his head. They redden and warm under my touch, and he lets out a guttural sigh, pressing his face into my thigh.

Suddenly, he sits up. His blue eyes are cautious.

"What are you doing, Asher?"

I stiffen, hands growing clammy. Guilty.

Aaron looks around the cave, then back at me, accusatory. "You're in my hide-out."

I shrink back. My lips are dry. I tell myself it's because of the cold.

"Why would you think you're welcome here?"

My jaw tightens, and I flinch. He's right. I have no business here.

"This is my home." Aaron leans towards me, eyebrows narrowed. "You're intruding."

I choke back a sob, scrambling away. "Aaron, it's cold, I'm tired, please-"

"You came here in the first place. You weren't invited."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"I think you should leave."

I cast a glance at the whistling wind outside, the water slicing through the air like a blade. "Just a few more minutes, Aaron, I beg you ..."

"No, I really think you should leave. Now."

He stops. His eyes harden. I don't know who he is, I don't know who's he become, because Aaron Blakely is not Aaron Blakely anymore. He's a mutation, he's an imposter, all because of me. I used his trust. I hid the truth. My fault.