A Need So Beautiful (22 page)

I walk into the lobby and notice the round tile swirling into a pattern beneath my feet. The walls are rich in mahogany wainscoting at least shoulder-height. I find the elevator and am grateful that there’s no one riding up with me. I don’t think I can stand still in an elevator and pretend I’m normal. I’m not normal. I’ve never been.

It seems like forever, but when I get to the seventh floor, the wind blows past me and I smile. I’ve made it.

I walk down the carpeted hall. Landscape paintings in gilded frames hang on the walls; heavy wood doors block out all sounds of life from within the apartments. With each step I feel myself slipping further and further away.

When I’m in front of Warren Bradley’s apartment, I stop. He’s waiting for me.

I knock tentatively. There’s a rustling from inside, but no answer. I knock again, taking short breaths because it’s all I can get in my lungs.

Still no answer. Now I’m beginning to panic because I want in. I want to be done. I’m so tired.

Reaching forward, I turn the door handle and it opens with a click. Under normal circumstances, breaking and entering would seem a bit much, but right now, the Need is so overwhelming, I push open the door.

The room is dark and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. There are windows in the living room that I can see from here, but they have shades pulled down, blocking out the light. It smells like antiseptic.

There’s a cough from the living room. “You’re early. My meds aren’t due for another hour,” a man says in a raspy voice.

There’s a jolt and I’m pushed down the hallway toward him. I’m suddenly scared, scared of who Warren is, scared of what I’ll be after this. My mouth is opening, trying to let words escape but they’re caught in my throat.

Warren Bradley is lying in the dark in a hospital bed. There is no light in here. I hear him suck in a breath and it’s loud, labored. Monroe has told me many times about that sound. The death rattle.

I swallow hard and walk toward him. Even though Warren is not glowing, he has a dull glaze of yellow aura when I get close enough. Next to his bed is a lamp, and I turn it on.

He’s staring at me. His lips are dry and cracked, yet he smiles. “You could have skipped me today,” he says. Warren wears his graying hair in a buzz cut, and he’s tucked up to his neck under a white sheet. I think that once he must have been really handsome. But now . . . now he’s skinny and frail.

“I don’t have any medicine,” I say. My heart is beating hard against my chest and I see his glow flicker, but it’s not coming to me. The Need isn’t coming out.

Warren furrows his brow. “You’re not with hospice, are you?” A look crosses his face, a mixture of fear and relief. “Do you think you could open the blinds?” he asks quietly. “I’d love to see the sunlight again.”

His request surprises me and I walk over to raise the shades. The room fills with light and I see how nice it is. Lots of antiques, a brightly woven rug in the middle, and shelves and shelves of books. When I look back at Warren, he’s watching me.

“You’re not what I expected,” he says.

His words freeze me. “What?”

Warren starts to shift in the bed, pulling himself slowly into a sitting position. When he’s settled, he waves me over. “Do you think you can sit with me for a while?”

I nod and drag a chair to his bedside. We watch each other until my Need seems to perk up again, pulsing though me stronger every second.

“You’re sick,” I say, in my own weak voice.

He smiles sadly. “I am.”

“What is it?”

“This time? Pneumonia.”

I close my eyes and try to see him, see his story, but nothing comes. I begin to wonder if I’m in the wrong place when he holds out his hand to me.

Does he know me? I feel like I’m missing something, but without hesitation, I reach for him. The minute we touch, the world goes black.

I am a boy, my parents are driving the station wagon and we’re going to Disney World. I’m so happy. My brother is next to me, talking about his girlfriend, but I just gaze out the window. The scene changes and I’m in high school. I have a lot of friends, but no dates. People don’t understand.

Sadness overwhelms me. I’m sitting at my father’s bedside and he is an old man now. I’m crying but he keeps his face turned away from me. He won’t speak to me. Even now, he won’t speak to me.

And then I find Roderick. He’s the most loving man I’ve ever met, and he takes care of me. We take care of each other. We’re thinking of adopting, but then I’m at the hospital . . . with Roderick. He’s been diagnosed, but no one can know yet. Only me. We’ll deal with it together.

“What’s your name?”

Warren speaks and it breaks my vision. I sway in the chair and stare at his dull glow, the only thing I can see. I wait for the words to come, and after a second I can speak. “Charlotte.”

He smiles. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.

Tingles race over my skin. “You have?”

He nods. “Saw you once, when Roderick died. You were in the hospital with him. Of course, not as you are now, but I recognize you still.”

My lips part and I want to pull my hand out of his, oddly afraid of his words. But as I meet his eyes, his glow goes out and my vision returns. I see his chest rising and falling slower. He’s almost gone and I still don’t know why I’m here.

“Your mother?” I ask. “Do you want me to call her?”

He closes his eyes and then shakes his head. “No, she passed away a few months ago. She talked to me though. Apologized.”

I exhale, feeling relieved. I thought that maybe I was here to help him reconcile with his family, to heal some of that hurt. But it seems that already happened.

“Then why am I here, Warren?” I don’t even mean to ask it out loud. But he looks at me so sadly that I feel my entire body shudder from the sorrow.

“Because I don’t want to die alone.”

Tears begin to stream from my eyes, hot on my cheeks. I put my other hand on Warren’s and squeeze it tight. I am filled with love for him, love that’s beyond me. He sniffles and tilts his head to the side. Suddenly his eyes get wide and I straighten, afraid he’s passing away. But instead he reaches out with his free hand to touch my cheek, rubbing his thumb across it.

His expression changes to reverence. Amazement.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, staring at me. “It’s so beautiful.”

I’m gasping, both horrified and overcome with my own emotions. The Need fades, leaving me weak, but I hold on to Warren’s arm. He starts to cry, then laughs, almost rejoicing at the sight of me.

I don’t know what to do, so I just stay with him. I stay there until he gets quiet and his breathing slows. And then it stops—his eyes still locked on mine. I wait, hoping he’ll take in another breath, but when he doesn’t, I drop my head. And weep.

Chapter 22

I
close the door to apartment 715 with a quiet click and pause in the hallway. Hospice will be here within minutes, so I don’t call the cops. But it was hard to leave. I’ve never seen someone die before, but I’m glad I was here. I’m glad Warren wasn’t alone. Before I left, I went to his closet and borrowed a hoodie. I flipped up the hood of the red sweatshirt to hide my face. I tried not to look in the mirror, but eventually I couldn’t help it. And the scene wasn’t good.

My skin is gone, rubbed away. My face is golden, like my back and my arm. Like my shoulder. I no longer look human. I’m not sure what I look like.

I make my way out to the lobby just as the front door opens with the same woman from earlier, a black bag in her hand.

Careful to not be noticed, I turn toward the mailboxes and take out my phone pretending to talk. I wait until she’s in the elevator and gone before I leave. When I get outside I realize that I can’t just walk around like this. My face is gold. I don’t have a face.

There is only one person I can tell. I text Monroe:
I need help. No skin. 1850 W Mission.

Within seconds I get a response.
On my way. Stay out of sight.

I step back to lean against the brick wall of the building and put my hands over my face. I don’t know what to do now. I have nowhere to go. Minutes later an ambulance arrives and I move out of the EMTs’ line of vision. I’m hidden in the shadows of the alley when they roll Warren out on a gurney, a sheet over his head. I hate that they’ve covered him like that. He said he wanted to see the sunshine. It takes a considerable effort for me not to run over and yank the sheet from his body. Of all my Needs, he’s the only one who saw me. The me underneath.

There’s a quick beep of a horn and I glance up to see Monroe’s car idling at the curb. For a second, I’m even happy to see him, even though the last time we talked I think I told him off. I walk up to the car and yank open the passenger door before climbing in. Once inside, I turn to him, my head down.

“Let me see,” he says.

I’m not sure I want him to anymore. I feel like a freak. But I slowly raise my chin and his mouth falls open before it pulls it into a smile.

“My God, Charlotte,” he says. “It’s beautiful.”

I look away quickly and pull the hood around my face. “I wish you would stop saying that. It wouldn’t seem so beautiful if it was your face.”

Monroe pulls his car out into the street but doesn’t respond. We drive quietly until I look sideways at him.

“I spoke to Onika,” I say simply.

Monroe’s knuckles turn white from his grip on the steering wheel. His mouth opens like he’s going to talk, but he closes it again. He’s silent.

“Don’t you want to know what she said?” I ask, irritated that he didn’t ask. It was kind of a big deal.

Monroe clenches his teeth. “I’m sure it was a bunch of lies, whatever it was.”

“She said you were just trying to get rid of me so that you could live your life. Is it true? Am I your last Forgotten?”

“She’s trying to get you away from the last person who cares about you, Charlotte. She’s trying to turn you against me.”

I nearly punch him. “
Care
about me? You’ve been studying me like a science experiment with that stupid journal of yours.” I pull out the book and toss it at him. “You kept me close so that you could watch me. All so that you can be free of your curse. You never would have helped me. You’d have pushed me off the damn bridge if you could have.”

He turns to me abruptly. “Yes. You are my last Forgotten, but it doesn’t mean this is easy for me. You have no idea what I’m going through.”

“What
you’re
going through?” I laugh. “What about what
I’m
going through? What about everything
I’ve
lost?”

Monroe stares out the windshield, his eyes blinking quickly as if holding back tears. “I know what you’re losing, Charlotte. But you have to listen to me. Don’t believe anything that beast tells you. She’s trying to tempt you away. She’s trying to destroy you.”

“You afraid I’m going bad, Monroe? All rotten flesh and evil impulses?”

“I’m not kidding!”

“Do you think I am?” I snap, pulling back my hood. “Look at me! Look what’s happening to me!” And all at once the world crashes down on me in a heavy wave. I’ve lost everything. Lost Harlin. Lost my face. And soon, I’ll lose my life.

I’m shaking with sobs as I curl up in the passenger seat. Monroe gently touches my hair. When he speaks, his voice is soft.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more for you,” he says. “I wish I could have prepared you better, prepared you for the loss. But I thought trying to keep you hidden was right. I thought it’d keep the Shadows away long enough for you to cross over.”

There’s a lump in my throat and I swallow it down. “Nothing could have prepared me for this,” I murmur into the fabric of the seat.

“It was never just about the Forgotten,” he says. “You know I’m going to miss you madly, don’t you? You’re the only person who tells me off on a daily basis.”

I sit up, looking at him. He’s crying, his eyes darting between me and the road. Despite our fighting, Monroe means a lot to me. He’s like family. He
is
family.

“You’re all I have,” he says with a quiet whisper. “And despite what you may think, I’m proud of you for being so brave, for doing these things when they’re so hard. But I always knew you were a good girl. That’s why it’s you. That’s why the light is in you.”

I close my eyes, tears streaming down, and let his words comfort me. “What will happen when I jump?”

“The light will burst out. People will feel a second of love, peace. Everyone will be touched. You will give them a reason to go on.”

“And after me?” I ask.

“There will be another Forgotten. And another. Until all the Shadows are gone.” He looks over at me.

I nod, wiping at my nose with the back of my glove. “You’ll make a sucky father someday,” I tell him. “I feel sorry for the kid that doesn’t get to burst into light to get out of your house.”

He chokes out a laugh. “Is it my sarcasm?”

“No, but I’m guessing you’ll expect a complete angel.” I grin.

“I suppose I would.”

“Plus your accent is totally obnoxious.”

“I’ll try to remedy that.”

I pause, my smile fading as we watch each other silently. “I’ll miss you too,” I murmur. And then Monroe nods and turns back to the road.

“I have some things at the office,” he says. “Some ways to disguise the transformation—latex and makeup. But it’s not completely foolproof. Harlin and Mercy might be able to tell the difference if—” He stops.

“If they can even remember me?”

He nods.

“A rubber face,” I say to myself. “Can’t I just burst now or whatever it is that I’m supposed to do?” I might as well since I’ll never see Harlin again. The thought hurts like a punch, so I push it away. I won’t think about him again. I can’t.

Monroe shakes his head. “It’s not your time yet,” he says.

“Do you have the itinerary? I seem to have lost mine.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“It’s what I do, Monroe.”

We pull into the clinic parking area and I wait as he comes around the car to let me out. “Just keep your head down,” he says. He adjusts my hood and pulls it down to shield my face as much as possible. He puts his arm over my shoulder, turning me toward him as we walk to the front door. It opens with a jingle. He’s moving fast and I nearly stumble.