Blinded

I was back in the forest. I recognized the feel of it, the smell, the calming sounds of rain and trees bending beneath the wind. However I could not see anything. I was expecting to see the trees bending, the leaves quivering, the rain falling, but I suppose it was not going to happen this time. I hung my head, saddened by the fact I would not have the privilege of seeing anything this time around. Again.

Last time I was here I saw, before I escaped this strange place of unconsciousness, a wolf turning into a man. I did not see the details of the man since I was gone before I even got a glimpse of his face. First I could hear everything, smell everything, and when I heard a presence rustle through the forest floor I felt the coursed fur of something, something that growled and barked. The wolf. When I felt the fur become skin, such warm skin, I began to see the dark shadow form from wolf to human. As soon as it came, it left.

Now I was back, and some part of me hoped to be visited by the wolf again. Why any girl, a blind girl especially, would want to be visited by a wild, vicious animal is beyond me. But I saw whenever it was around. I wanted that. If I had to obtain that ability because of that strange, sci-fi creature my subconscious gave me, then so be it.

A howl was heard and both I and my heart jumped. Soon after I heard footsteps, but only a pair, not four. I let out a shaky breath when I felt heat and I wondered who or what was there.

“H-hello?” I whispered.

“What are you doing?” the deep voice asked.

“I - I don‘t -”

“You know she‘s after you, Bella,” he said again, interrupting me. He sounded angry, panicked. That anger sounded familiar. “You shouldn‘t be out here. Unless that bloodsucker -”

“I‘m not Bella,” I said, my voice a bit more stern.

The voice was silent. I had a name for that voice, but I was unsure of it. I was afraid it was actually him. Why? I don’t know.

“I know you‘re not Bella,” he snapped.

“You called me Bella when we first met.”

“No I didn‘t.”

“You did, you -”

“Shut up!”

I flinched, not expecting the sudden spite. I heard shallow breaths, the rain coming down in drizzles. I barely felt it; I was under cover of a tree. I was leaning against it, clutching it, pieces of bark poking my back through my clothes. I noticed my fingers were digging into the tree out of fear. He was scaring me. That anger in his voice . . . I wondered if he had an expression that matched; I wondered if his expression was “a look of hate no one has ever seen before.”

“I‘m sorry,” he said sincerely, his voice barely a whisper. “Just go home. It‘s not safe here.”

“You‘ve told me that already,” I muttered.

“And you should listen to me, Mariabella.”

I began to see color. Dark colors, dreary colors, but it was color. Green, brown, dead leaves, everything you would find in a forest. I honed in on the dark figure in front of me, looking pained, his fist clenched. I saw tanned skin, toned muscles, no shirt, shorts, and no shoes.

I was right; it was him. But why?

Blackness began to close around him before I could see his face, and the last thing I saw was his skin exploding, fur taking its place. White teeth glistened and he growled.

|-*-|

I sat up and began panting and clutching my chest. My heart was pounding. Without realizing it - until the last second, that was - I was going sideways. Before I could stop myself I fell to the side, my failed attempts of stopping myself just giving me the push needed to send me over the edge of my bed. I yelped and my face met the carpet.

I happen to be the kind of person who rolls around in bed, going this way and that. I suspected I woke up at the very edge of the bed and then suddenly found myself saying hello to the floor . . . with my face.

“Mariabella what are you doing?” my aunt asked me. She laughed. “Love, do we need to get you a crib?”

“Possibly,” I mumbled while getting up. I rubbed my cheek. “Am I late? I didn‘t hear my alarm.”

“You woke up half an hour early.”

“Meraviglioso.” I stood up and went to the door, my aunt grabbing my hand. “I‘ll take a shower. Pick out my clothes, please?”

“Of course,” she answered, patting the cheek I fell on.

|-*-|

School went by too slow. I figured it was because I was excited to hear the story Jacob promised. As for Jacob . . . I do not know. The boy – and it still surprises me due to his massive size of six foot seven - seemed to have constant mood swings. And he seemed a bit arrogant, too. He was something else.

Angela drove me home and asked me why I was so excited and smiling so much. I was not a smiley person but today I was just smiling every once in a while when I thought of him. Not in that way, of course, but Angela’s friend Jessica would ask if it is this boy from my class, or that boy, and when I said I was hanging out with Jacob she teased that Bella would be jealous. I didn’t hear Bella say much after that.

“He promised me a scary story,” I told Angela. “You know me and scary stories.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, her voice a bit frightened. “I remember when we went camping. You told that one story about the hotel your dad and mom stayed at on their honeymoon. . . . Creepy.”

“Exactly,” I laughed and smiled. “I‘m planning on telling Jacob about it.”

“And he is telling you one?”

I nodded. “The one about the Quileute history or something.”

“I think he told Bella about that story,” Angela said. “We went to a bonfire and he happened to be there. They went off and when they came back she looked a little spooked.”

“Excelentness,” I breathed.

“I have lots of studying to do so I‘ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She hugged me. “Have fun with your new friend.”

I laughed once. Jacob was confusing so I don’t know if he considered me a friend just yet. Oh well. I went up to my house, heard Angela drive away, and unlocked the door.

I finished all of my homework with time to spare. It was already late. Aunt Cara and Uncle Steve already called to see how I was doing, to ask if Jacob was there yet. He wasn’t. He had not showed up. When Steve called I asked for Jacob’s number so I could call him and ask him if he was coming.

“Hello?” a voice asked and I recognized it as Billy Black.

“Um, hi,” I said. “It‘s Mariabella.”

“Oh, hello Mariabella,” he greeted, sounding surprised. “Did you need anything? Are you okay?”

“I‘m fine,” I reassured him. “But, uh, Jacob said he was going to be coming over today and he hasn‘t come. I was wondering if I could talk to him.”

He was silent for a few and I heard a sigh, but the sigh was farther away. “He‘s actually not here,” Billy told me. “I‘m sorry.”

“That‘s fine. Thank you.” I hung up.

I admit I was upset. Upset and angry. But why did I trust Jacob so easily and so quickly like this anyway? The two of us have only talked twice, and we were barely getting to know each other yesterday. It was too soon to be trusting him and relying on him like this. I resisted the urge to the throw the phone violently against the wall and hearing it break and crumble, imagining it as Jacob, and went up to my room to listen to the sound of raining and wind outside my window.

Cara and Steve came home eventually and found me closing my window and listening to an audio book, one assigned for school. They asked me when Jacob left and I explained to them that he never came. Steve was a bit disappointed and Cara stayed in my room with me, pausing my audio book.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “Jacob not coming . . . is that making you feel bad?”

“No,” I answered. “I realize now that I shouldn‘t have relied on him so much so soon. It‘s no big deal.”

“Are you sure? You and Jacob seemed to be getting along really well,” she mused. “And he‘s cute.”

“Aunt Cara,” I sighed.

“Doesn‘t he at least sound handsome?”

I laughed. “He sounds angry one moment and sympathetic the next, so I can‘t really tell.”

“Okay, Mariabella, okay,” she laughed. “My attempt at talking about boys with you has failed. You hungry, love?” I nodded. “Macaroni and cheese sound good?”

The door opened. “He promised me cheese, Cara,” Steve said. “Don‘t remind me by making Macaroni and cheese.”

Cara and I laughed, and she gave me a kiss on the forehead. “He‘s not worth moping over,” she said.

“Aunt Cara, I don‘t like him,” I groaned. “I don‘t even know if he likes being around me when he gets as mad as he does.”

“We‘ll call Billy and ask if Jacob can come over tomorrow.”

“If he says he can, don‘t count on it,” I muttered. I was the one who held grudges, suffered in silence, and forgave slowly. I tried not to hold a grudge against Jacob for this, but we had “his word.”

Why did I count on seeing him so much?

|-*-|

The next day went by like it has been for a while: Slowly, though today I was not as smiley as I was before. The two people to ask me about it (other than my senior friends) were a guy and a girl named Tyler and Yvonne, both twins. The day after that, Thursday, they sat with me in two of my classes: English, which I have Tyler, and Spanish with Yvonne.

“. . . and then you add ando to the end to make it the -ing ending,” Yvonne explained over the phone. I gave her my number so she could help me with Spanish. “That help?”

“Yeah that does, actually,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

“What are fellow juniors for?” she giggled. “Spanish is a bit difficult, probably a little more when you already speak Italian.”

“Yeah, and that‘s when Spanalian comes into play,” I told her. I heard her laugh. I heard a beep and I realized it was the phone. “I have another call, can you hold on?”

“Um . . . I actually have to get off right now,” she said. “Oops. I am going to run up the bill. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Bye Yvonne.”

“Bye Mariabella.”

I clicked the answer button again and put the phone back to my ear. “Hello?”

“Can I please talk with Mariabella?” a familiar husky voice said. “It‘s Jacob Black.”

“It‘s me,” I said, trying to hide my smile.

“Oh, um, hi Mariabella,” he said. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said. “How are you? You okay?”

“Um, no, I - ugh.” He sounded angry, which I‘m learning is a normal thing with him. “I feel really bad that I wasn‘t able to come yesterday.” He said it like it was forced out of him. “I mean, I really wanted to see you - I mean -”

“Don‘t give yourself an ulcer, Jacob,” I told him, and I was slightly entertained by his struggling.

“Can I come over tomorrow, maybe?” he asked. “I promised you I would see you and for some strange reason I have the need to keep that promise to you.” He groaned again. “Okay? Okay. That‘s all. Bye.”

“Jacob what -” He hung up on me. I pulled the phone away from my ear and let it sink in, wondering what the heck Jacob was so worked up about.

I guess I was seeing Jacob tomorrow, and I guess I was really happy about it.