What If Our Life Threads Bind?

Chapter 26.

At the bottom of the steep stairway to the right, there are two tall doors. I glanced at my watch again. If I don't leave in two minutes, I'll be late and arriving late in class means getting the humiliating stares of everyone as you try to figure out which seat suits your big butt better.

If Margo doesn't come in another two minutes, I'll walk in alone.

I waited another minute and walked right in, ignoring the stares of every single soul sitting there watching me like I had committed a crime. "Hey?" Ansel said in a small voice and I nodded, trying to ignore an eye contact. "I think I saw you yesterday near my neighborhood with your...I don't know who was it. Your sister?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I lie, my eyes still not meeting his. He looks at me crossly, still unsure and I sigh.

I wish if I could erase his memory but its not in my control and my abilities to play with people's memories. I try going over all the details he might have seen of me carrying a stack of torn tapestries back to the tapestry shop with my sister. Most importantly, I try to remember if Lila paid attention to Ansel calling my name and I ignoring him, like a stone in one's path.

Margo enters the class and sighs with an admirable smile on her face when I scoot a little towards Ansel, saving her enough space to sit.

"What happened to you yesterday? You passed out and then went rigid. I thought you were having sort of a fit or something." She whispered, leaning on my side and I hesitated before speaking.

It was true I passed out but the reason was not humanly normal. I felt more energized than ever when Margo picked me up from the ground; my insides washed by dopamine. I felt restless and all I could think of was Austin. What was he talking about? I had this weird urge of going to look for him and ask him about the 'did-you-really-come-to-my-bedroom-last-night-and kissed-me' situation that he was talking about before I fainted.

Of all the romantic novels I have ever read, one thing was common; the hard confession. Today, I could feel it-the confession-rising up in my throat like blood but swallowed it in for I know it doesn't matter to him as much as it matters to me. The confession, that every time I see him, my lips curl into a smile, my blood sings when he holds my hands and my insides melt when he smiles at me. But I can't tell him this. He won't understand.

I barely know him but I feel so attracted. Its different.

But this is not right. I am not a mortal. I am a demigod of death and I am not supposed to fall in love. This is against the rules and I would have to stop it.

I never wanted to talk about it to my sisters in my head and so noted, I never mentioned a thing to them about this either. I would get the answers myself. Today, from the tapestry workshop. My guide must have the answer.

"I don't know...I guess, it was because I didn't eat anything yesterday." I answered back and she nodded slowly. I could feel Ansel's eyes on me and so I raised my brow at him. He shook his head and smirked.

"I really think I saw you yesterday. You were walking down towards the ancient tapestry workshop, weren't you?"

Before I answer anything, our professor enters.

...

"Where are you going?" Chloe asks when I shimmy the jeans up my caramel tanned legs, her eyes raking down the jeans that I only wear when I am going outside.

"I don't feel like reading these and cutting the threads in home today. I'll be at the tapestry workshop."

"Okay but careful. Mortals should not know what you're doing."

"I know." I tell her, a little irritated.

"And, clean the workshop a little. Nobody goes there. Its probably full of dust, rats and lizards."

I nod, as I grab a spare pair of keys and shove them inside my jeans pocket.

I was slightly nervous when I passed through Mr Cecile's bookstore where I saw Ansel last evening. When I looked around and found the coast clear, I braved a step near the stairs of our tapestry workshop. An amused smile creeps up my face when I remembered how Ansel called it 'Ancient'.

I kicked the doors with my uggs and they opened up with a sprinkle of dust sprinting all over and around me. I coughed a little as I took a step in and examined the rooms. Its been so long since I came here to work- usually, I would just enter from the backdoor, keeping all the stacks of completed and torn life documentaries in the old wooden almirah and leave.

The walls didn't feel so worn, nor did they feel so small when I was growing up. I still pictured this workshop as the shrieking shack from the Harry Potter, even now because it was so close to it. I passed by cracked windows and moldy, browned wooden walls with water stains painting as scars upon skin. Slivers of light shone from the outside, as if invited in to ignite these dusty hues . I walked through narrow doorways, yet ignored them, my eyes still searching. I was going to find it, I was sure.

I paused in front of the rusted metal cupboard and opened it slowly but found it empty. I huffed a sigh in disappointment, my hands on either side of my hips. I look around aimlessly and start shuffling some of the stuff around me- in the hope that the book may have ended up falling down in this mess.

"Where is it?" I breathe, exhausted.

You know it when you have a weird feeling in the gut that something isn't the way it should be or isn't happening the right way-a hunch, which mostly turns out to be true. Out of a strong feeling, I open the metal cupboard again and shoved my hand inside it. My stomach plummets a little when I find an opening on one side of the cupboard and that is when realization hits me. Chloe and Lila made a secret shelf on this wall so that we could keep the secrets of the Moraie enclosed and safe.

My hand struggled when I tried to open the jammed safe but then it gave away with a torturous sound of jammed metal, and opened on a multi layered dusty book. I coughed some more as I blew the dust off of it. "Wow, my hands are all dirty now." I raked my fingers over the moth eaten yellow pages of the book and its contents, and then kept it inside my handbag. I pulled out my ipod instead and plugged in the strings before hitting play as I took a broom and swept everything.

The area around me filled with a heavy beat and after half an hour or so, the workshop was clean. I huffed and clapped my fingers as I sat down to read the documentaries. They were all five of them. It was horrible- three of them had me to ugly cry and so the clouds growled from above me, shedding showers of tears that I shed here on earth from heaven.

The work was done and so, I took my handbag, took a glance at the book inside and began departing when I saw someone standing near the doorway.

"Margo?" I gulped. "How long have you been here?"

"I saw all of.." She trailed off and a wave of fear ran down my spine. "Who are you?"