Between The Lies

Chapter 3

She laid still on the soft, satin sheets of her four-poster, beholding the gleaming canopy. The cloth-draped wood portrayed biblical scenes. It was an effort made by her mother. Being a Christian and married to a Hindu, she wanted a life with equality of both faiths for Cora. But Cora never believed in God. The majority of the human race still rejected the reality in favour of make-believe, but evolution made more sense.

She reached her hand up to the creased piece of paper that rested beside her. Her eyes caressed the strokes of the pen as she read it again.

Dear Cora,

I never expected to be lost and forgotten to the world. I suppose I write this hoping that perhaps you will remember me. And help me.

I have sinned and I will pay for it. I will be dead soon. But don't let me die in vain. Find my journal under the dresser and you will know what to do.

Love,

Amelia.

The note was on a two-cent paper, but the words were without a price. However, Cora felt conflicted. With words, a war can be wrought or peace brokered. For her, they raised a havoc inside her. She was lost in them. She had questions and the only way to answer them was to do as she was told. She had to get hold of the journal.

* * *

Delilah woke up with a small gasp.

Slivers of the morning light bled through the voile curtains that hung in generous folds, stretched to the floor and billowed as the chilling breeze came in through the open window. An array of soothing lavender and brilliant amber stroked the canvas of the sky. She pulled herself off the bed, her nightdress flimsy and advanced towards the window. Her body bathed in a cold sweat. She trembled as her heart pounded against her chest. It was the same every night. The remnants of her nightmare still clung to her. But how can she call it a nightmare, if it doesn't leave her presence when she is awake?

She felt like she was living that moment again. The silence pressed in on her and all she could hear were the sounds of the rustling leaves and the howling wind.

It was a starless night. Her breath raised in visible puffs to join the darkened sky. There was a freezing chill in the air that brought numbness to her fingers as she wrapped her arms around herself. She stood on the terrace looking out across the grounds and into the woods. In the midst of the party, she had begun to feel unwell and she was quite sure that the music was too loud. Her pallid eyes darted to the labyrinth of flashing lights inside the prodigious room. Amelia and Alistair danced like no one was watching, but of course they all were. They were all grins, they looked like fools and they didn't care. As though they had heard her, Amelia turned her head and smiled. Delilah smiled back at her, she had to.

Amelia Rutherford wasn't beautiful. It was just her beautifully deceiving mask. Her presence buzzed around like a fly that couldn't be swatted. As much as she was envied, Delilah always wanted to be her. She was the orb of Arlington High, rendering everyone's attention and holding everyone's fascination. Alistair's too. But Delilah knew she could never be her.

Hours had passed and Delilah found herself slipping past the drunken teenagers grooving to the beats. They all were just happy, happy and more alive than she could ever be. A feeling of togetherness suspended in time, but she didn't feel a part of it. She glided down the flight of stairs and onto the grounds, slumping to her knees. She needed air, but the fog tasted like death in a cocktail, no morello cherry or paper umbrella.

The thick maze of woodland loomed before her, but her eyes were fixed on the silhouette in the distance. As the figure disappeared into the woods, she became curious. But curiosity was at the root of many sins.

Stepping into the woods can rob you of one sense, but enhance the others. She was disoriented to be almost blinded. But given the ears of a wolf, even the slightest susurration of the leaves felt heavy in her ears. The densely packed trees towered high above, but remained still despite the icy breeze that continued to flow around her. She carefully walked down the narrow path, uneven by the knotted roots that crossed it. There was a crunch of dried leaves behind her, the defined short crunch of a footstep. She didn't need to turn around, she already knew who it was. The familiar whiff of cologne swirled in the air. A presence like his own never went unnoticed.

"Alistair, what are you doing here?"

"I can ask the same of you, Delilah." He leered at her. The charm was replaced by a wicked glint in his eyes as he advanced towards her, a savage seeking for its prey. She didn't like it at all.

"I'm leaving."

"No, you aren't." He yanked at her arm as she tried to pass by.

"Alistair!" She casted wild eyes towards him as she tried to free herself. "What are you-"

Before she could finish, his fist met her cheek and she fell with the force of it. It was just too much for her fragile body. She noticed the white powder that lined his lips as he digged his nails into her skin. The blows continued until she went limp in his arms.

She let out one last scream into the night as she laid on the damp loam, her skin bare. No one heard her.