RED

The Past Calls

© APOORVA 2014

All rights including those in copyright in the content of this story are owned by Apoorva. It's Illegal to steal and/or copy.

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"She needs time to heal…” a distant voice said, “…she can’t go out in the sun just yet.”  

“But they are coming,” someone else interrupted  

“Then hide her, but she can’t leave.”  

My skin smelt of turmeric balm and a strange soothing herb. I tried to open my eyes but the lids felt much heavy and reluctant to the force I was applying. It irked me to not know the faces of those voices to a level where mind was pounding with worry. Who were they talking about? And why can she not walk in the sun? I tried to move my hands but they were not even budging an inch. Am I dead, a thought sprang to life, that can’t be. I don’t remember being staked, just burnt…oh, they are talking about me.  

“I will take her to the basement,” the voice said again  

I felt being lifted and swiftly taken. I still could not open my eyes which was sending paroxysm of panic. Were they locking me? No, they cannot do that. I was just fifteen and too young to be locked. Fighting every tiny muscle that seemed to have just died, I opened my eyes and lifted my hand up to push the person away. However it did nothing than sting my sore body.  

“It’s alright, you’ll be fine Maya,” the voice said  

I looked up to find Kea smiling down at me. I relaxed in her arms.  

“Your brother is with the Elders so you don’t have to worry about him,” she said  

"Does Chirac know about me?” I asked, my voice dry  

"Yes and he came to check on you while you were sleeping"  

I did not speak after that and nor did she. It was comfortable like this- to not talk and being reminded that I was stupid enough to walk in the sun. It was relaxing this way where only I would cuss myself in my mind and drown in self pity.    

I woke up with the sudden jolt with sweat beads covering my forehead.   The thoughts of walking in the sun had been haunting me ever since that incident seventy- one years ago, but now Kea’s death was too. She had been sweeping in and out of my dreams ever since and the guilt was failing to fade away. Same was the case with Chirac; I had caught him crying in the woods couple of times and I could tell he was suffering immensely. I wish I could take it away, I wish I knew someone who could take away. Watching him reminded me of the first conversation we ever had on mates. He was twenty five and had already found Kea.    

“What are mates?” I asked  

“They are number one on the list of things you shouldn’t be worried about,” Chirac laughed as he spoke  

“Why not?” I questioned  

“You are just fifteen so it doesn’t matter.”  

“Why not?”  

“’Cause you are suppose to drink till you get oh so mighty,” he said in a fake husky voice  

I giggled as he picked me up in a flash and threw me on his shoulder.  

“And pick up your enemies and go all massive on them,” he said throwing me in the air