Somewhere to Hide
I hide underneath a rock, the sun coming from an angle, casting long shadows of the rock down the hill. I pant, staring at the house I left. It is a large house, very pretty.
I lean against the rock, holding in breaths, waiting for Jeremiah to come and sit beside me. Someone will follow us into oblivion. I just know it.
I can barely see him from where I sit. His jet black hair is swinging around in the wind, blue eyes are shining, chest heaving. He sits beside me, holding my cold hand in his.
We sit in silence, contemplating our situation. After all, we are on the run tonight
He holds me close, and drops the explosive on the grass, lighting the fuse, and we take off.
Leaving our old lives behind, our old lovers, family, and friends. I am too young to lose this battle. So I won't. It's just like a dream, as I hear the boom around me. I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears as I run with Jeremiah. We run against the wind, the two of us with no regrets, I'll finally leave behind my innocence.
"Listen, listen," he says, in a reassuring way, "I'm not afraid to go. I mean, if it's with you. Cause you know I was born to live for you." He kisses my forehead and we keep moving.
I won't be like Juliet anymore, waiting for my parents to approve of him, even though they won't give Jeremiah a chance. I won't have to see him beneath my foggy window like a sunrise on the horizon.
No goodbyes now, because I'd rather die.
"Let's dare to cross the line," Jeremiah says to me, holding me close after we get far away from the explosion, "Say your love is mine."
We have to find somewhere to hide now, so my parents won't find us and kill me for it. I sprint past crops on this dusty country road, away from the farm house, my family and my little sister. We have to stay out of sight of the police and many other officers of the law from now on. Until we know everything is all right, that my parents gave up on me.
"Baby, just keep searching your safe," I say, whispering in his ear, meaning the safe at his house. He doesn't think he has enough money to support the both of us. But we'll search and find enough to find a place to hide out.
We are like king and queen now, on the top of the hill, the night sky growing above us. I want to climb the highest peak now, and call it Jeremiah's and I's. I remember painting this sky at home, that's why I want to live on the mountains. I want to bring down the stars.
He lifts me off the ground, spinning me around once we make it past the house, way out of sight, out of mind. We spin around until we collapse.
We should've brought maps. Now I don't know where we are, just that we are at least a few miles away. But I want to stay where we're at. It's so beautiful.
The sky is a navy color, but a few streaks of pink paint it around the edges. Orange and purple dot the sky, too. White stars frame the hills around us, looking like little pieces of snow on a long winter day. The grass is a dark emerald color and streams dot the land here and there. The streams are crystal clear, refreshing, and calm looking to our eyes. Few clouds dot over the sky, but they are gray, like the clothes my friends wear.
Jeremiah pulls me up, "C'mon Carrie, we have to find somewhere to hide out. We have to stay out of their sight. Well at least till we know everything is good out here. I'll search my safe when we get to my house." He voices all my concerns with just a few sentences, making me smile.
"So I don't need to worry?" I ask, his lips kissing my forehead.
We run again, my legs throbbing with the pounding of each of my steps against the muddy grass. My eyes water. We need to take shelter now, I may pass out. I haven't eaten or drank in days and I need to find somewhere.
Somewhere I can hide out.
I fall to my knees in the grass, my head pulsing. I can't take it.
"Find some place…" I whisper, my world spinning. "Just go. They'll find me and I'll be okay." I say to Jeremiah, wanting to vomit all over the grass.
"No, Carrie," He lifts me up, his arms cradling my fragile, pale, cold body in his well-muscled arms.
I don't know why he would fall in love with me, of all people. I mean, I'm okay looking. Not gorgeous.
My face is narrow and oval shaped. With a long, narrow nose and a pair of full lips beneath that. I have child-like eyes, a pretty amber brown color, but not gorgeous. I am very skinny but I don't have curves at all to my body. I always wear the same black hoodie and blue jeans. With the hoodie clinging to my body, my hair falls over my shoulder; it is a perfect golden and goes perfectly with my pale skin.
But like I said I am not perfect at all. I have zits like every other girl. And I have skin that is unnaturally pale. And I have one tattoo on my lower back, it reads; "Just take me back to where I was…"
While Jeremiah is perfect in every way. Perfect colored skin, tall, muscled but not too muscled. He is lanky and is skinny for being six foot four. And he has jet black hair and perfect, icy blue eyes. His smile is perfect, with white teeth and a perfect nose. He always wears the designer brands and the same hoodie, like me. But he makes it look cool.
I laugh as I realize how different we are, and I lose all of my energy. I can almost feel it just drain out of my body, and the last thing I hear is Jeremiah.
He says, "We'll find someplace, Carrie. We will. I promise."
I sit up, realizing I had been asleep. Around me is a different feeling, different environment, than the one I passed out in.
The bed is well covered with a pale blue comforter. White, sunny light peers through white, almost translucent curtains. There is a white canopy around the king-sized bed I am laying on, the comfy pillows propping me up. I can see the walls are a pale yellow with white molding on it. There is a large dresser in the corner that is white wood, a mirror beside that, and beside that is a huge bookshelf full of books. I climb out of the covers, trying to untangle my feet.
Everything is so clean. I turn around in circles, sniffing in the air, my lungs filling with the smell of fresh air, a good smell, not the gas smell of the city. Warm air comes in from the windows and the room is the same temperature. The perfect temperature.
I walk out of the room and into a large living area. The walls are pale blue and the couches white. The floor is a pretty, bright, almost caramel brown. Large glass doors open up to a clean, white porch. I sigh. The living area is open up to a kitchen, with stainless steel counters and appliances. A small bowl of fruit sits on a wooden table, full of apples, pears, oranges and bananas.
I pull out an apple and walk on the deck, inhaling deeply, yet again. It's too good to be true. And I've only seen three rooms so far. All of the rooms have the same clean, fresh smell to them, making my insides lift. I watch out and into the ocean the deck overlooks.
I expect someone to call me, but no one does, there is no one.
Not even Jeremiah.
I step back onto the living room. I wonder what the rest of the house will be like if these rooms are already beautiful.
The doors ahead of me are fully glass, but tinted. I open the door to a bathroom. The walls are light yellow except for around the shower which is black tile. The floor is white tile, clean, spotless. A sink with black marble as the counter lies just beside the door and a black toilet beside the shower.
I step out, the smell of lavender from the air clinging to my skin.
I hear the door open, it's already late. It's about eight at night. Why would anyone be here?
Other than Jeremiah?
I run to the door. Finally! He's home! He stands at the door I never saw that was in the living room. "Hey!" I kiss him lightly, noting his expression.
I follow him into the bedroom. I hope he'll tell me what's going on here or something, maybe comfort me. But no, he falls asleep.
Did he really never see me when he came home? I mean I was waiting alone for him all day.
He lies in the morning… I know he's lying. He said, "I was really tired. I mean I couldn't see you." And he heads out the door.
I can tell when a person is lying. And he is lying a lot. Jeremiah never looks down when I talk to him, and now he is…
"What does he think he is?" I yell, already knowing the answer. A good guy, with nothing else to do is what he is. He thinks he is the "chosen one", like he was chosen to be with me or something.
I shouldn't think out loud, I mean, would I trust him if he had a gun? What I'm trying to say is that, if he hears me, he could kill me.
He actually never said he'd think this through, the whole thing with us running away. And Jeremiah also never mentioned if he'd wait on me.
And it was impossible to not see me last night when Jeremiah came home; I was standing right in front of him! I was waiting, alone, all day for him. Now I feel enraged at all of this, I don't want him to make me feel like I'm alive. And now I'm waiting alone again.
Does he expect me to believe his tongue? I'm not afraid, if he's angered god.
"I never meant to hurt you, Carrie," Jeremiah says when he comes home again tonight. "It's just the way I am." And then he goes off to bed.
I cry, hoping everything will turn out to be the same as it was before, it has to. Because I miss the way things were, I miss the long nights where all that we would do is lay in the grass.
And I cannot cry over and over again, like this. "You've got to stop the lies about what's real and what's pretend!" I scream at him tonight, when he comes home.
"Carrie? Do you really want to know what I've been doing?" Jeremiah asks me as calm as can be. Without me replying, he pulls a small box out of his coat pocket, and opens it in one hand.
Inside is a necklace. A beautiful one, that's sterling silver that shines with great intensity and it, reminds me of the moon. It's a chain, like, chains on a dog. And has a gothic feel to it. The necklace has a large stone in the center that is the same color as the night sky.
The stone is midnight blue around the edges, black just inside that, and deep purple in the very center of it. There is a kind of silver frame around it. With swirly patterns in the silver and a rose that settles itself just on the stone. The stone is also in the shape of a heart, what with the position of the rose.
I turn, and Jeremiah hooks it around my neck. The necklace is perfect in every way, and fits around my neck like a choker. The heart resting just in between my collar bones and it chills me to the bone, with metal as cold as snow.
"So do you forgive me?" Jeremiah asks, arm resting on my shoulder.
"Hmm. Let me think about that," I lean in close to him, grab the chest of his shirt in my hand and kiss him, hard.
"So?" He asks, grinning at me, teeth extremely white.
"I forgive you."
My dreams are nightmares tonight. They will haunt me and kill me for the rest of my life. But I don't want them to.
There were shadows everywhere, reaching for me with claw like hands, grabbing for anything they could get of me. And I vanished beneath the layer of smoke like shadows. I curled up into a ball and the shadows started tearing off chunks of me, of my soul, of my life. All of my memories were ripped away and I tried to get up and run but Jeremiah came out of nowhere and held me down. He tried to beat me. But eventually I broke away. But the shadows followed. And so did ravens. The ravens pecked at me while the shadows devoured my soul.
Then I woke up. I screamed, and hit Jeremiah on accident.
Jeremiah comforts me, arms around my waist, soothing words. "You'll be okay," escapes his lips.
"No. They're gonna get me. Jeremiah, don't let them get to me!" I start sobbing into my sleeves, holding him close, I can barely breathe. His warm hands heat up my cold arms.
He kisses my forehead, "I wouldn't let anything hurt you, Carrie. I love you."
"Then why would you hurt me?" I cry again, not realizing the thing I had experienced was a dream.
"Listen. It was just a dream, I promise. You can trust me. Okay?" He kisses my cheek and covers me back up with the blanket. "Just lie down for a second."
I lie down. And I keep lying down. I think of everything I've been through in my short life of seventeen years, and Jeremiah's short life of nineteen years.
We grew up together, the two of us. I've known him ever since I was four. Because we were young once, too. Like every other kid, the two of us were full of violence. But he called me his wife. And he was my husband. But we would be at the police station for domestic violence if it was real.
Then he was silent, he left me alone, as soon as he turned fifteen and me thirteen. His sister had broken my leg on purpose. And my parents officially hated his guts. Jeremiah forgot me, almost lost me. And every night was hell. Inside my mind was battle and war.
Then I saw him again. Two years later when the two of us attended the same fancyschmancy private school. My uniform was a purple and gray plaid skirt and a white blouse with a purple tie around my neck. Just like boarding schools'. His was the normal boys' uniform. Gray or black slacks, a white dress shirt and a purple tie.
I hesitated to talk to him, seeing the two of us had grown up quite a lot since the last time we saw each other. His shirt was unbuttoned so you could see to about a fourth of his chest and his tie was lazy. Jeremiah said once that he was frustrated I didn't talk to him then.
"What's the problem?" I asked him later, when we walked home from school together, "Is this the type of relationship you want with me?"
"You're hearing voices, getting restless." He said, and then kissed me. This was our first open-mouthed kiss. I had kissed him many times before. But now it meant something.
My heart had fluttered; a pair of wings is what I was wishing for at the moment.
You know what I mean.
Then I wasn't at school. My friends texted me, "Carrie, where'd you go?" "Carrie what's wrong?" Those were the only sentences I would hear for weeks. I wouldn't say anything, because I had the stomach flu. And I thought it would be embarrassing to tell them, so I never answered them.
"Do you remember when you saw me wandering those dark streets?" Jeremiah asks me, whispering slowly in my ear.
"No. You had left me alone at school so I went home early," I rub his hand, "It wasn't like you, nothing like you, to paralyze our dreams of changing the world."
"I know. And I'm sorry." He kisses my mouth and leaves me back to my thinking.
I thought he was taken over by that cobra of a girl he was dating at the time. I was a hooded warrior at that time, in step to the sounds like everyone else, on autopilot.
Then after that were the times we would sit together, watching the shooting bright lights of the stars above us. The hallways to my bedroom had been restricted crimson walkways, but now they were more dangerous.
New York (where we grew up) was our state of love. Because he'd crawl in my windows, and we would kiss, then he would fall asleep in my bed and come with me to school the next day.
I remember this one day I stayed at his house, my mom didn't know. And his mom knew well enough to know that she shouldn't tell my mom.
She screamed that night when I came home, "Carrie, where have you been?!" and "What's wrong with you?" and "Carrie are you listening? Carrie!"
My mom forbid I saw him. But he told me one day at school "I still feel the love we found."
Then it was my family's turn to text me, "Carrie, why'd you leave us?" and "Carrie what's wrong with you?"
I never answer.
I never have, never will.
Jeremiah holds me tighter, "I'm glad I chose all that I chose."
"Me too?" I asked, whispering in his ear.
"Especially you." He holds me close and I fall back asleep.
I'm happy for all that I've done. The bad things. The good things. The okay things. The things that started rumors. Even having the eating disorder and slowly coming out of it is helping me now.
This is the best time of my life.
I won't waste it on anything I don't love.