Vermilion

The fog was dispersing quickly as I pulled into the small, gravel parking lot of the herbal store. A place that sells a lot of Wicca essentials, which feels strange to me considering some beliefs here on an Indian Reservation. Oh well.

I opened my door and turned to see the parking lot is almost empty besides one car, maybe the owner. The bell of the front door, one of those liberty bell shaped ones that’s attached to the door by a red ribbon. The place smells so good, of any herb, any oil, any candle, anything I could possibly need. Tea. Plants.

And right where the front door was there was a rotating shelf just full of oils for five cents. I couldn’t believe how cheep they were, especially the smells that seemed sort of hard to get. Before I exploded in excitement I walked to the counter. Standing before me was an older looking lady, with long, black wavy hair and sunken eyes. Her face was slightly wrinkling around her lips and eyes, and her hands were shaking quite a bit as she held onto the counter and smiled at me.

“Hello, how may I help you?” She asked kindly, her voice soothing, like silk.

“I was wondering if you had a container that I could try and fit most of those oils in?” I asked, a bit insecure, feeling a little stupid, for having to ask. But she smiled and nodded.

“Of course, dear. Let me get it for you.” She disappeared behind a red curtain, leading to the back of the store, and then came out again with a small lid in her shaking hands. I followed back to the front of the store were the shelf was, “What oils do you want? I assume two of all of them.”

I smiled broadly, for the first time in a very, very long time, “Of course. How did you know?”

“I can tell by the why your eyes shined. I have the gift you know? Much more advanced then yours. But all in good time.” She smiled up at me as she began collected the oils, two by two at a time, into the lid.

“Did you know my mother?” I asked her, feeling slightly nervous at the mention of that woman. I’ve hated my mother for quite sometime, never being able to move on for what she did to her family, to me, to my father who loved her and respected her so much. She tore us all apart.

“I did. But I never knew her well enough. Her mother, your grandmother, was an extraordinarily powerful witch, always making good. She was a great addition to the great big family of Quileute, I knew her well, but we can’t forget that the nature of our ways is deeply unappreciated.” I understood what she meant, the way that I’ve been mistreated in the past for what I’ve been taught to believe, even though Native American beliefs are just a hair similar to mine.

“All we can do is shrug.” I suggested, and the lady chuckled warmly and smile, continuing to grab the oils and place them in the lid already half full.

“That I suppose.”

**

Jacob let his head fall, his eyes closing tightly, feeling a sigh leave his lips. Everything felt wrong to him. Thinking about Bella. Being with Elaine, though he’s imprinted on her. But maybe he mistook his imprinting Elaine. Maybe it was just a strong affection. He can feel himself wear down.

The pull on his heart no longer existed. No longer did his silence hold Elaine back. Her pain was not his. It absolutely puzzled him, he wanted nothing more then answers from Dr. Cullen, however he cannot bring himself to. Everything felt wrong, and he wasn’t going to do a damn thing to fix it.

**

I pulled into the drive way and saw that Jacob was still sitting on the car, his head bowed and his eyes closed, his chest only rising every so often, as if he was holding in his breath. I felt my own head get heavy on my shoulders, the tears collecting at the corners of my eyes once again. Despite the pain, I didn’t want this to drag me down, and the thought of being positive for once in a very long time seemed more appealing then sulking around like a heartbroken teenager. I’ve felt this way before, and I’ve learned my lesson three times over.

After closing the driver’s side door, I opened the passenger side and carefully picked up the wooden lid, as not to rattle the bottles of oil too much. They clinked together as I moved my hip against the door to shut it, failing the first time and huffing with failure. I guess I’ll just ignore that I didn’t close it tight enough, I never lock the car anyway. It doesn’t automatically lock and I’m too lazy.

I watch Jacob’s head lift as the sound of the clinks and clanks and the car doors shutting must have alarmed him, and our eyes caught again. This time he stood, walking quickly towards me, and I slowed down my pace to allow him to catch up.

“What are those?” He asked, pointing the lid full of different scents of oils.

“For a bunch of things. Mainly my emotional healing process I plain on going through.” I answered him, turning around so I didn’t have to stair into his eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Elaine.”

“I told you to save it, Jacob. I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t want to hurt anymore.” The only sound that could be heard after that was the closing of the screen door, which was a struggling event for me considering my hands were pretty full. It was rather rude Jacob didn’t help me, but when I turned around to ask him for help. He wasn’t there to help me.

He’s never been there to help me.

Sighing at the thought I walked through the house, noticing that Billy wasn’t anywhere in sight. Maybe his truck wasn’t here, but that’s just strange. And I don’t plan on dwelling on it. He’s a grown man who does grown man things, and I have other things to attend to.

I set the lid down carefully onto my bed, wondering exactly how I was going to store all these. Yes, the kitchen is pretty much empty besides Jacob’s staples of junk food, like 50 bags of potato chips, four gallons of two different kinds of sodas, Little Debby cakes and snacks, you name it. So really, I sort of have reason to be worried, since Jacob will eat pretty much everything when Emily doesn’t want all the boys over for dinner.

Then I had an idea. A way to try and patch things up with Jacob. He’s good with his hands, maybe he’d make me a cupboard to hang in my room. Yes, he’s more of a mechanic, but he’s always been a handy man and it really is worth a try. Grabbing a hold of my amethyst, I asked myself if this is the right decision. I felt really good and confident about it. So after pulling out a bottle of Apple oil and putting a few drops onto my finger, rubbing on my wrists and neck for the contentment, peace of mind, and happiness. As well as Lily on my forehead for the emotional stress.

Then I make my way through the hallway, hearing the screen door slamming shut. I look into the living room, noticing the light shining through the door, the figure I know as Jacob’s almost a silhouette. My dream. But he stood still, knowing I was there, his eyes locked with mine.

“Yes?” He asked.

“I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“No, Elaine.” He said, and my eyes narrowed in hurt.

“Why not, Jacob?”

“Because I don’t really want anything to do with you. I don’t think I love you anymore, Elaine.” That was like taking the can of compressed air to my mouth again, and if it weren’t for the oils just now I probably wouldn’t have been able to hold my own body weight. I closed my eyes and sucked in a shaky breath.

“That’s not fair, Jacob. But if that’s the case, then I assure you-.” His eyes narrowed in question, moving closer to the front door, “I won’t let you walk away without hearing what I have to say!” I screamed as loud as my voice could carry as he slammed the front door closed. The sound like a wild boom.

I won’t let him walk away without hearing all that I have to say.