Vermilion

I was huddled in the farthest corner of my room, the darkness had already enveloped me long before the sun had set. My heart still was aching, and my eyes were burning from the amount of tears that were still continuing to spill over like a broken dam. My head pounding with each sob I choked over, and I wished more then ever that this day never happened.

I don’t think Jacob ever came home, I hadn’t heard any shouting, any voices, nothing that I would expect would come from this. I told Billy everything, how unfair Jacob was, that maybe I might be over-exaggerating but the fight just blew it all to pieces. Billy had no advice to give me, no excuses for his son’s actions, he just told me that he was very sorry, that I should get some rest, and not to expect Jacob for a while.

I wasn’t expecting him at all. Not anymore.

The pain is still there, and no doubt I still love him, but I’m wondering now if the imprint could ever be broken. A silly thought, but I wonder now more then ever if that could possibly happen. If Jacob could possibly stop loving me and love Bella again, like he did three years ago. I was sobbing more by the end of each thought of her and him, my self confidence hindered to a point that it no longer bends, but it broke.

I might have cried myself to sleep, for I felt, after another hour of my self misery, my eyes try to linger open, but eventually close.

Then I open them again, feeling that pain in my chest, but its morning. The light of the early sun shining through the thick lacy, white curtains drawn over the tiny square window on the other side of the room. I can see the dust just spiraling and floating about in the air, imagining myself breathing that shit in.

I stand, slightly swooning, my chest still deeply hurting. The pain gets worse as I make my way out of my door, and I knock on Jacob’s to see if he had come home yet. But the house is quiet, dead quiet, and I ponder a moment. Billy shouldn’t have left. Maybe he’s asleep.

I check his room. He’s not there.

That’s when I began to worry, and I feel something wet against my chest and look down. What I saw horrified me. My chest, where my heart would have been, was open through my low cut, black sweater. A big hole was there, bleeding profusely and dribbling down through my shirt, sinking in with my sweater. I felt my lungs heaving, myself shaking as I wondered what I could do to stop the bleeding, but wondering how this enlarging hole came to be.

I hear the front door slam shut, and despite the nervousness I feel for what’s happened to my chest I go to the living room to find a shadow. The light coming in through the screen door is absolutely blinding, but I can see a figure that I could almost make out to be Jacob’s holding out his hand, in which clutched in his grasp is something red, something filled with life. Something beating.

That’s when I really open my eyes, breathing hard, tears crusted against my cheeks. I look down at my chest to see only the bare white skin I’m clad in. No hole. No blood. But still, I run out and open Billy’s door. His wheel chair in place, and he’s still sound asleep in his bed. Then I try Jacob’s door, knocking softly three times.

There’s a shuffle and then it swings open, Jacob rubbing his eyes, staring at me dumbfounded. As if I shouldn’t be there. Like I don’t belong in this place anymore. But I can’t help but feeling that maybe that isn’t true.

“Elaine?” He asks, but I’ve already started crying again and I walked back into my room, careful not to slam, and locking it closed so that he doesn’t come in.

I can’t bare the thought of even looking into his eyes again, knowing that those eyes may never look at me the way he did Bella ever again. I was the center of that attention, but maybe now that he has me all to himself, he might not want me anymore. No matter the imprinting tale he told me a long time ago.

Maybe that really is a myth.

**

(Last night, upon Jacob’s arrival)

“Son.” Billy called from his place close to the television, Jacob entering the room with his head bowed. Billy turns to him, and normally the father would smile as his son comes to sit beside him and chat. He does not today. Instead his eyes bore into Jacob’s with shame, with hurt. Betrayal almost.

“Your actions have lead to much despair.”

“I know father.”

“I’m disappointed in you. Thoroughly. I expected so much more from you, hoping that imprinting Elaine would have rid those feelings from you. They should have. Surely.”

“I just…couldn’t help myself. I told Elaine that I’ve stepped out of line before.”

“Yes,” Billy Black sighed with discontent, “But Elaine wanted you there to be with her, even if it was Bella’s wedding.”

“We had a fight on the way home.”

“I know. She’s told me everything, correctly.”

Jacob this time balled his hands into fists tightly, feeling the urge to punch himself in the head. No matter how angry as a hornet he may be at himself, he cannot do what Elaine does. He regrets even thinking those thoughts.

“I said some regrettable things. How can I make it up?”

“Give her time. She’s dreaming now. Nightmares. She’s finally awakening to her senses. Right now would not be the best time to try and patch things up.”

“Nightmares”

“Her grandmother’s gift. To sense the future through any form her body can do.”

“The craft?”

**

When the digital clock above my bedside table struck twelve, I finally decided to unlock my door and make a run to the the small herbal store just three miles from here. For some essential oils that will uplift my broken spirit, possibly save me from having an anxiety attack from that nightmare.

I grab my keys from the coffee table, giving Billy an appreciative kiss on the cheek and a mumbled good bye and I leave the living room. Around me is thick, creamy white fog as I step onto the porch and silently close the front door. I make a fast beeline to my car, but stop as I notice Jacob’s garage is opened and he’s there, sitting on the hood of a car he was rebuilding. Releasing a shaky sigh as we locked eye contact, I could see something, feel something, that I have never felt being around him. It hurt so much, like a longing, a thirst that couldn’t be quenched. I broke the eye contact and locked myself in the car, running my hand through my hair as the tears threatened to fall.

I won’t let this build up inside of me.