LitanyLane

+1+

The bar was similar to the other dozens of hotel bars I had previously visited. It was dark and warm smelling faintly of smoke and ash. This one was small and intimate, I found a place at the end of the bar watching the people listlessly in front of me as they were reflected in the bar mirror

People seemed impervious to the late hour and  time seemed to be an obstacle between myself and where I wanted to be.

“Sir”, the bartender approached me.

“Water. please”, I said not bothering to look at him.

I glanced at my watch it  was just past midnight , and I was still not quite ready to return to the solidarity of my suite.

My eyes became tired and I decided to call it a night. I had yet to receive my drink and spied the bartender preoccupied with a woman at the end of the bar. The water I had ordered  was tilting side to side in his hand.

His eyes aimlessly wandered over her and though I knew it was impractical to watch a woman so closely  I could see what the bartender found so intriguing about her even though I couldn’t see her face. . She dressed provocatively but her body language provided the complete opposite, she was self –conscious. Perhaps with no reason to be.

I chided myself for such thoughts

I decided to forgo  such company that seemed to inhabit the bar and gathered myself together, taking one last look in the mirror behind the bar. I was temporarily relieved in knowing that I was, for however short a time, free from the ghost of my past.

Almost

My eyes once again fell on  the woman at the  other end of the bar as she was twisting the ends of her long dark hair, she seemed nervous turning slightly to reveal the side of her face and I knew my mind and eyes must be deceiving me.

She looked up as she took her drinks and there was no doubt that it was her.

I stood nearly tripping over myself standing up. I hesitated as she turned to leave.

What good would ever come of this ?

Running away was something I was good at  now.

Knowing would never help. . . I couldn't make the same mistakes again.

Death and misery were the only things that followed me now.

I knew if I followed her every terrible action that followed would be my doing.

Somethings were simply never meant to be.

Sill I followed her to the stairs, she was beautifully unaware of the danger behind her.She carefully began to take the  stairs, before she could descend to the second flight I called to her.

The first irrational decision I'd made in a longtime.

“Ms. DeLune-“,

She stopped, the glasses in her hands slipped loose shattering on the stairs.  We were only feet apart now.

For a second her knees moved from beneath her then she continued up a few more steps It had never been my intention to follow her we were just going in the same direction.

I caught up to her at the fourth step. Slowly taking the last few steps towards her, knowing I should turn away.

Temptation in the flesh, that was what she was. Although she wasn’t really .she looked sad, tired and to be honest not entirely beautiful anymore. My eyues were drawn to the deep scars on her face.

 She reached for my hand and pulled me up the last few steps till we were inches apart for the first time in years, breathing the same air.

I wasn’t sure what was coming over me, but I could feel it coming over her as well. I was letting go of all the control I had.

Neither of us blinked our gazes connected, I had not even noticed her moving closer to me.

“You must have me confused with someone else.”, she whispered

“Why is that?”

“Because, the only person to call me that died a long time ago.”

“Please forgive me”, I said

“You are not real. . . you can't be”

“Can you not hear my breath Ms. DeLune ? feel my heart how am I not real”

Now that we were so close time had begun to show its face. Years had separated us and chance perhaps had reunited us.

Her hand fell from mine, gently she clasped it close to her heart. I stepped away and I felt her disappointment. I knew disappointment was waiting for me. I couldn’t turn my back on peace. It wasn’t even an option

“ I watched you die”, she said tears began to form in her  eyes, “I’ve watched you die over and over again in my dreams. . . in my nightmares-“

“I had to”, I said though she would never understand. , “I never wanted to see you hurt again.”

“Too late.”, she said softly

"I was protecting you."

"You lied to me."

This time I stepped closer closing the space between us.I wanted to tell her I was sorry but the words would never be there. She peered back up at me. Her eyes were dark as night and rimmed lightly in red. I studied every curve and path of the darkened scars that ran down her otherwise perfect skin.The heat of being so close to someone whom I had only dreamed of made the past years seems like seconds.

The truth was things had changed.

"I beg you to understand"

Two single tears fell from her eyes, yet they didn't make her appear at all weak. 

"You can't be  real", she said half convinced

Timidly I pressed my lips to her scarred ones and I had to remind even myself to breathe. She understood- -I hoped and perhaps for a few minutes came to realize how real I was. Her sullen expression however never changed.

"Please allow me to explain-"

"No I---"

"Ms. DeLune", I insisted, "I--"

"I can'--t"

"Clara--"

"Mr. Fierro", she was stern then spoke softly, " I can't-- I--my daughter is waiting for me"

Her expression suddenly fell

A family. Once again I was standing between her and her family.
 
“I should not keep you then. . . perhaps we could talk in the morning”

"Yes"

She was considering my proposition and I wanted to touch her once more to be sure she was real. I sensed she felt the same but neither of us moved.

We both lingered outside the door, she finally pushed the door open and disappeared into the room.

I moved one step over and entered my suite, the air was cold and still but I would have no regrets.

I heard screams unlike anything I had ever heard that night. At first I thought it to be my imagination but it was all to real. I approached the door that connected the adjoining rooms carefully  maneuvering the old  lock until it clicked open. Carefully I began pushing it open just a bit.

There was no doubt I could hear Ms. DeLune screaming. She sounded as if she were in pain which only became louder as the door opened.

My first thoughts went to Lucie, she would not be pleased.

 There was a very dim light in the small room, as if she had turned on a light that was quickly dimming. From my position  by the door I saw a girl—her daughter --I presumed kneeling on the bed gently touching her mother’s hair trying to comfort her.

The darkness obscured most of the room, the shadows were large and illuminated against the wall.

It was as if my eyes refused to adjust to the darkness, straining I could now see that there was something very strange and familiar about the girl. The more I watched the scene before me it began to change while staying the same. The more the girl attempted to comfort her mother the worse her screams became, as if she was causing the nightmare

Suddenly her eyes seemed to find me in the darkness the door jumped and closed itself, the lock  clicked back in place.

Clara

I could hardly listen to Rose as she protested the outfit I was dressing her, I finally gave in and let her dress herself.. My mind and body where in two different places. 

I felt as if I were shaking on the inside when  I thought about last night. It was strange hearing that voice saying that name, and suddenly I didn't want to be called anything else.

 I had seen so many ghost so many things I didn't want to believe  lately I wanted to scream. finally the last image I never wanted to see again appeared so real to me. Felt so real. I touched my lips at the memory

By living he had hurt me more than dying, that is if he were still even alive. I had been living the biggest lie and the worse part is I didn't even know it.

There were still dark circles under my eyes, I had been unable to sleep the previous night then again I couldn't remember the last time I had a good night's rest. Then I remembered the night before we had left Italy.

We.

I looked back at Rosalie, she was on the floor rubbing her eyes. Rosalie would always be there holding my hand, demanding attention. .. never again would I simply be Clara.

I pushed such thoughts aside concentrating on finding something more modest to dress in Once I felt prepared for whatever was waiting I took Rosalie by the hand and cautioned her.

“Please be a good girl, Rosalie”

She just crossed her arms and began to take the pink ribbons out of her hair.

Rosalie insisted that I hold her since she did not feel well, from last night. I left the door to my room opened and  knocked on the room next door not sure what to expect. Maybe I truly had gone insane.

I half expected some sleepy middle aged couple to open the door and last night  be a nightmare a beautiful nightmare but one nonetheless.

The door opened just a little and I realized I hadn’t been dreaming.

“Good Morning”, he said opening the door the rest of the way and inviting us in.

I paused at the door and turned to face him.

“Rosalie, this is Mommy’s friend Mr. Fierro."”

She crossed her arms in further protest  The suite was much more extravagant than ours featuring a kitchen, bar, and dining room.

I set Rosalie down with her doll and book.

“I’m sorry about that she is –“

“It’s fine”, he said turning towards a whistling kettle.“she is very beautiful”

“Oh.. .Thank you”

“She reminds me of fictional characters; hair as dark as ebony, lips as red as blood and skin as white as snow.”

“Yes, well I suppose that’s true.“, I was still hesitant, "H-how do I  know  you're really alive?"

He walked to an open suitcase producing a flat straight razor and casually places it in his palm. I winced as he pulled it against the skin the blood running down his wrist.

Somehow I felt responsible and pushed his hand underneath a stream of cold water

“You are not safe you know", he said, "I still see Lucie every now and then, she absolutely vengeful.”, his eyes were vacant for several seconds so  I decided to speak.

“Sometimes I think staying alive has gotten a lot harder”

“Not if you know how to live”

“How do you live ?”, I asked taking a sip of the strong bitter tea.

“Better. . . I suppose”, he sat down in the chair facing me, motioning for me to pour the boiling water over the tea cups.

“Alone still ?”

“What brings you so far from home”, he asked

I scoffed silently at the word "home" and drew my eyes to the table. I wanted to come right out and tell him the truth about Victor and why I was running, but I didn’t know if I could trust him. After all he was still somewhat attached to Lucie, right ? I cringed at the tinge of  jealousy I had towards her.

“What brings you. . . here ?”, I asked pouring sugar into the bitter tea

Neither one of us it seemed was ready to be completely honest.

"I'm certain Emile knows why you are here", he said

I choked on the overly sweet tea finally realizing that Emile had  also lied to me all these years. Or had he ?

"I'm sure he  knows why you are here too", I said. Not wanting him to sense my sudden anger at them.

"No"

I steadied my hands on the table, concentrating on the solid grain of the table. I reached for his hand turning it over to examine the cut, drawing my fingers to the mangled space where a finger should have been. I could feel the tension in his hand and I pulled away.

"You both lied to me", I said, "You made a fool of me"

"I simply made a choice"

"I know. You chose to live with her than to die with me. I tried to forget at first. . . I figured it would be for the best but I found myself doing a lot of thinking. You and I were unfortunate in a way. We were both ready to live happily ever after with out first loves before we were taken from them. . . now that we have them back, everything is as it should have been."

"True"

My eyes traveled to the digital clock in the kitchen as it clicked to 9 a.m.

"I promised Emile I would attend his lecture, it seems we have a lot to talk about"

Before he could respond I pushed my chair back and quietly collected Rosalie, leaving as quickly as I could. I stood in the hallway for several minutes before I finally decided to leave.

+4+

"Rosalie"

I yelled her name louder this time as I weaved through the crowed of people outside the Conference Centre. I had let go of her hand for less than a second and she had run off. .. or someone had taken her.

Somehow I deluded myself to think i could enjoy intellectual study while traveling with a child. Upon arriving at Emile's lecture I decided  it would be best if Rosalie and I sat outside and waited for Emile, he certainly had a lot of explaining to do.

While we were waiting outside I had practically dragged Rosalie over to a coffee stand and promised to buy her something but she was as always impatient. Her hand slipped out of mine for less than a second and she was gone.

I tossed out the coffee that had been the cause of this entire mess. I began to reason that If Victor had taken her wouldn't he make it more obvious ? Rosalie was probably just being mischievous. The people entering the lecture seemed unaware of my small crisis, maybe there had simply been too many people and she was hiding again.

"Ma'am", someone called to me

I turned to see a sullen police officer with Rosalie, she looked as if she had been crying.

"I think this little girl is looking for you"

"Rose, don't run away from me aga--"

She started screaming when I tried to pick her up, she continued to cry trying to pull away from me. I had never seen her cry like that before, not since she was much younger.

"Rosalie, what's wrong."

I shot a look at the officer as he seemed content with his job and backed away. I took her to a bench and let her sit in my lap until she calmed down. Her tears eventually dried and I realized she must have been crying because we had been separated, though she would never admit it.

We took a walk around the relatively quiet campus, quietly watching the Thames. Though she let go of my hand Rosalie was carefully never to move so much as 3 inches away from me.

"Clara"

I turned at the cheerful sound of my name and found Emile walking towards me with Mr. Fierro on his heels.

"Don't look at me like that", Emile said as he came closer

"Like what ?", I asked my anger melting at his smile.

"Like you're disappointed in me."

"Well I wouldn't say disappointed but I will forgive you", I joked

"Wonderful, I've spent all day with long-winded academics and there is nothing I'd love more than spending some time spoiling Rosalie."

"Well, I guess we could go shopping--"

"We could", he said indicating himself and Rosalie, "let me give you a break,eh ?"

I glanced up at Mr. Fierro and realized he must have wanted to speak with me alone. Emile was already in the midst of planning his afternoon with Rosalie and she seemed interested.

"Alright", I gave in.

"Not entirely but I can infer. Emile has advised me that I should tell you. I have come across a book by a man named  Robert Essex, he has written   about the realities of death. He seems to know so much about Life, Death and Spectres. I think he may be able to help me get rid of Lucie. I doubt you would understand but I am never truly free from her, I would like her to move on"

"Hasn't she already ?"

"Essex seems to imply that there is something. . . somewhere else. A true heaven for lost souls like her. She doesn't belong in this world."

"And Victor ?"

"What does he have to do with it ?"

"It seems that Victor wants to kill my daughter. I don't know why, he is being vindictive I suppose. I tried hiding from him but he is always there. . . leaving signs so I will always know he is there. It is a game to him. The clock is slowly ticking and Rosalie only had four days left."

"Victor is full of anger and vengeance, he always has been."

He seemed to be lost in thought again and I assumed it was because he had felt the same way towards my family.

"This Essex might be able to help me as well, maybe it it not just chance that we stumbled upon each other."

"There are no guarantee's Ms. DeLune"

"I find I'm starting to believe in miracles"

"Not a miracle, a carefully crafted lie"

We kept walking and after a while I began to get the familiar feeling that he had forgotten I was there. At some point he had begun smoking, concentrating more on the weak match than anything else.

"I'll leave you to yourself", I said

"Meet me at noon tomorrow, please don't be late", he said

"Then what ?"

"Continue on our separate ways.I imagine you will join Peter and I will continue to live the quiet life I always intended. Just as our lives should have been."

I agreed silently recognizing my own words. For the first time in a while I was able to be alone, solemnly walking back to the St. Mark. While sitting alone in the small hotel room I realized loneliness was something I didn't care for.

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Author''s Note

Incase you were wondering the reason I didn't write the 'reunion' from Clara's POV is because she would have never believed he was real. Also the names, I know . . . but it is  probably not going to change.