Timed

"Too many faces in one room-not enough to see you." My arm tied itself around a metal bar, the coldness trickling my skin. Causing goose bumps to climb up towards the shoulder blade, his grasp was tightening around my hand. I was falling. Drastically, until I could feel the air suffocate me. Someone else was standing on the far side, watching. Somehow, it seemed like he could levitate from the ground, not being able to touch the ground with his bare feet.

“Who are you?” I whispered. My back arching, the force of the wind lifted me up like a flag. “I need to know who you are,” I coughed as the air began to hold a strong hold on my throat.

He didn’t speak, staring was the only power he could withhold now.

“I-I,” I breathed in, the air beginning to turn cold. “Tell me.” My body descended down into a backwards spiral, and cascaded into a pool of water. My life was ending; there was nowhere else to turn to.

“Beep...Beep.”

I flinched myself awake, heavy breathing curled up on the inside of me, my arms moving out of control around my body. The irritating buzzing of my alarm clock sprung its rhythm inside of my head. It finally shut off from the power of my fist hitting it. Rubbing my eyes with the fists of my hands, I glanced in the mirror, eyeliner smeared underneath the peaks of my eyelids.

"Wow, I am a party crasher." I mumbled under my breath, jumping out of bed and rushing to the sink, the ground stinging the balls of my feet from how cold it was to even step on it.

"Ivory," the voice rang through my ears, dancing around through my brain, and then back out of the other ear it went. "I need you to do something for me. Come down please-ah, there you are." She got up from the chair, leather made her legs stick from the heat that was being absorbed around the room. The room was a circular shape, with its sides drooping small ends on the arms of it. A cloth was around her hand, a thick violet, wrapped around her knuckles, tightly holding its place.

“What is it?” I questioned, my voice hitting a monotone of annoyance.

“We want you to go to Menard’s again. Your uncle would like you to drop off-don’t give me that look, all I am asking is for you to go and get one thing, that is all I ask of you.” Her voice ticked me to a point where I wanted to snap at her. However, I wouldn’t go that route, it wouldn't be the greatest thing to do..

There was hardware everywhere; the air began to have a nascent aroma of wood shavings, flowers and sweaty metal.

“Welcome, would you like any help searching for anything today?” A cheery, young college girl gawked at me while saying. Her hair was in pigtails, the split-ends revealing themselves from even a distance away.

“No thanks,” My sly smile faded as soon as she walked away towards a father and his son. I averted my eyes to the ground, hoping not to shed any tears in a public place.

The almost vivid image of my father cradling me crept through my mind, mocking me almost to tears.

I raised my head up again, parading right towards the very aisle of nails that nestled right beneath a larger set of them. A man stood only a few feet from me, his hair nearly passing for grey, half already gone as well. His body frame was flat, with a prudent face structure. The skin was also pale-a sickly pale. His eyes glowered towards the side of me, I gawked-gazing indefinitely at one another. The length of his torso caught me off guard, and I looked away, nearly slipping one last glance until the piece of his blue shirt was out of sight.

The sound of hardware had begun to drift through the air, causing me to smell like plywood. The paneling of the shelves was beginning to peel its own texture away; on top of the shelf was white paint that seemed to be springing a leak. On the far side of the store, I could hear a small child crying, another that had moved towards my side. My mind, I assumed, had possibly manipulated the young one into thinking she was mine. However, she wasn’t.

“Big nails, small nails, heavy nails,” I continued to mumble to myself while going through the sorts there were.

“Excuse me,” an annoyed, yet amusing groan came from behind me. “You are kind of blocking the merchandise.” He winked as I slowly turned.

“Unless that means you, I’m not buying.” He gasped, and I stared in awe at his interesting look.

He had the body frame of a masculine man, muscle that seemed to dive in and out of each other; nearly closing in when it stopped at his bare elbows. His eyes were the shade of dried up blood-still close to being wet, nevertheless, close to being dry.

“Do you work here?” I questioned, my body now shifting towards him.

“No, I just occasionally come here to scope out any wanderer’s that seem to be lost amongst aisles of easy to look for supplies.” An offended smile crept across my face, I felt the urge to snap at him, but I held it in.

"Well, just so you know: the nails you're looking for happen to be right next to me." He smiled wittingly.

I scoffed, brushed passed him and paraded off with the nails in my hand. The air conditioning began to throw back air, whisking my hair behind me. Each of the red strands beginning to shift sides, casually swaying to the beat of my footsteps.

A wooded countertop met my gaze; green paneling with a sign of the store's name plastered on it. A man with a broadened poise stood behind the register, grabbing items and quickly storing them into a bag, grabbing mine at the last minute. My fingers twirled themselves around the rough paper of the twenty-dollar bill.

“That will be $13.37 please.” I handed him the bill and quickly scurried on out before he asked for change back.

The sky began to churn the average blue to a deep burgundy. The weather has stride into being bleak, a damp grayish color began to overlay the deepened red that peaked out within the deep depths of the clouds. A cold rush startled the aching bones that laid inside of my own flesh.

“You know, you are not very friendly.” A voice startled me; nearly making me fall to the ground and having my keys flutter through the air. I jumped, and immensely turned slowly.

“What do you want?” I snapped, this time my teeth were now bulging out, making the shape of a snake’s venomous bite.

“Chill out, really. I won’t hurt you... I just wanted to introduce myself you arrogant, and lustful girl.” Hovering over, I began to pant at the body odor that was being created between us.

“Hey, that isn’t funny. Hurry up, I need to get home.” My fingers extended towards my temples, rubbing them with sheer annoyance.

“Ace Carlisle,” a half-witted smiled crept across his face. “I am the third in line for the wealth of my father that had died.” I nodded, this time not paying full attention to him, however, focused more on going home.

"So, you are predominately a rich boy, I take it." I made it sound like an idiotic question. I could see the retort in his dried up blood eyes.

There was no signal of whether or not he got offended by what I said; he probably was. His body fixture was beginning to shift over, as if he was turning to leave. We then departed from each other; the car began to bump in rhythm with the music that was blasting from the radio. The sky had just turned grey, signaling rain with a chance of thunder and lightning.

“We are now back, live on 96.3. How are you all doing on this nice, crisp autumn night...?”

The voice on the radio came and went as more people began to turn out from the nearby parking lot at a restaurant. Night comes, takes the sun out of the picture, and replaces it with the pasty moon; its sides glistened, I could nearly hear the whispers of children laughing and playing in the park, teenagers were doing their usual thing. Condensation began to beat down on the side view mirrors of the car; its interior was a deep blue, with yellow spots from previous owners on the seats.

The ride home was a far distance, it consisted of having to avoid as many of the quickest entrances to get into town as possible. I pulled into my street then, parked, and raced back in to see my aunt fixing her hair, and a bunch of bags stacked near her bedroom door. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“We’re going on our yearly trip to Ireland, we will be back though. Thank you for the nails, you are a doll, just like your mother.” She pulled me in for a hug then, her grasp tightening. Like I used to do when I was younger, I slowly clasped my hands around her, locking us both in for a while. We then let go.

“How long? The usual two weeks, or is it one this time?” I asked, my voice reaching an impatient tone.

“Three weeks,” a strong voice came from the kitchen that was on the far right of the house, right across from their bedroom. My uncle muscled through, and gazed at me. “Like always, as well, it’s uh… Family business.” I nodded.

Ever since I was young, my aunt, uncle, and I would always make yearly trips to Ireland to stock up in a store that they both owned. It was right in the heart of Dublin. Nearly everyone in the town loved getting their Americanized items in exchange for Ireland made goods. My uncle first founded it when he met my mother there; she was on an internship for a small law firm. And that was when she met my dad, my aunt’s brother, they were married in the church by my dad’s good friend, Father Samuel, a long family friend that has known my dad since he was a kid.

After they had left out the door, I waved until I could no longer see them. I then ran back, locked the door, and jumped into my car and drove off. The radio was off, all I could hear was the car motor humming, and soft drizzle brushing against the side of my window.

Thunder, as I predicted earlier, began to roll in with a cold front. I didn’t want to go back home, so I headed for the road to clear my head. It was peaceful, it made me relinquish the stress and pain of being abandoned. However, it was for all the right reasons.

It was fall, nearly the beginning of an early Indian summer. It was right around the time I was born to be precise. Her hands were worn out from holding me in her arms. The deep scars that sat on her face continued to bleed. Bleed out sorrow and empty promises. She promised to be here, but disappeared long ago. It was the same with the man that once protected me from evil. My mind can remember seeing a dark chamber, a door made of stone. Inside was a nice living room plastered in white, and even the ceiling was white. A man that had eyes that reflected an ocean's current-the shade of blue. They were mysterious to me, as if they were sending me a message of some sort. He was then embodied with stone, causing him to lose consciousness of course.

My car skidded across an abandoned road, my brakes failed me this time-I felt gravity pushing me forward, hands straightforward, seatbelt wiggling towards an unlatched position. Some glass began to sputter around the outside of the car. I crashed. The thought of them evolved into me nearly dying. I looked towards the top mirror of my car my eyes peaked through. Ducking, I peeked a glance; the eyes were daunting. They resembled a misty blue; foggy as an oceans peak when a ship ventures on through the watery mist.

I got out, my legs shaking from the intensity of the brake hold. I could barely move anything; my eyes drooped down slightly, my vision becoming eerie. Everything spinning and closing in around me. I was wild-eyed. I shut my eyes and rested myself onto the hood of my car, trying my best to catch my breath.

“Your teeth are hinting a bit of yellow,” a voice called from upon the adjacent side of the car. My face turned sullen. I shivered from the voice-it was like a razor blade cutting a tree in half in one cut.

“How did you find me?” I questioned.

“I happen to live here.” His face was now serious, the glint in his eyes proved it.

“You live here,” I gawked; colored leaves were scattered and nearly dried out. It seemed as if the sun never touched this side of land. “In the woods?”

“No, you misinterpreted what I meant. I live in a home just three miles from here; I was doing a daily walk around the block. Care to join?” He conjoined my arm with his, deviant eyes pleading to escort me back to his home-I couldn’t accept it.

“No, I seriously must be going.” I nearly fell straight forward when I felt a lunged arm underneath my torso.

“I insist, please.” He pleaded once more, this time nearly forcing me to take it.

“Fine,” I sighed. “But we get separate beds, got it?” He nodded, underneath his sardonic smile I could sense that he was pleased with me accepting the offer.

I settled in, the house held my impression of living in a fourteenth century home. However, the rooms were modern looking, nevertheless, held an extravagant view of cascading mountain bluffs. The walls were scattered with dark purple, the floor had dark wood-it looked as if it were already polished.

The bed was Victorian style; the blankets had a circular design on them, the motion curved into the lining of the squares that framed around the circular design. A painting was plastered on the wall. Flowers were hovered around a darkened red background; a little white rose, with its striking pedals, seemed to stand out amongst them all.

“When can I leave, or at least sleep?” I questioned, my fingertips slowly resting in the roots of my hair.

“In the morning; not until I give you something.” He slipped out of the room before I could question what he wanted to give me. Lowering myself onto the soft mattress, I tossed my arms up, causing myself to descend onto the pillow. My fingers twirled around the ends of the pillow that my head was set on. I could feel the warm texture vacillating as I rubbed the ends tighter.

“Here,” the voice entered from the opposite side of the half-lit room. “It is a special remedy; it will help you stop feeling dizzy.”

As he handed it towards my direction, I smelt the spicy, and mint-like, smell that had made my nose spark in an uproar of tingling joy.

“What is it?” I questioned, my hands beginning to reach like a child that wanted a toy.

“Tea. It has honey, mint and rosemary.” He sheltered himself around me, closing the gap between us, and creating a sense of heat that only two magnets could have if they were placed together.

“Thank you,” I quickly grasped, he then backed away gingerly, his eyes furrowing delicately, a pain feeling on his slightly tanned face. He escorted himself out without saying, or even mouthing, a single word.

I was left alone, my eyes watched as his shadow lingered for one more second while he closed the door to a crack. I wanted to feel something for him; nevertheless, it didn’t seem right in the first place.