Evanescere: Origins (10 page)

O IT WAS THAT JACK WITH
HIS never ending patience helped me live. He showed me the world. I began to
love him more than I could say; more than I could tell him. He often wondered
if I could ever leave my human family alone. I knew I had to let go and so did
they, but neither one of us could give up. I missed my children. I missed
seeing them grow up. I hated not being able to be there for them the way a
mother should and so it was on this cool Halloween night that I found myself
silently jumping from tree to tree, watching my children go trick or treating.
I wanted to be there with them, holding their hands, kissing their cheeks. I
was so proud of them. After a while I decided to go back to the house and “hang
out.”

As I was waiting their
return, I gently lifted Jazz’s window and slipped in. I wondered the small
house with the memories flooding me. I sat so quietly in Jazz’s room holding
her favorite stuffed teddy bear. Her scent overpoweringly delicious, my mouth
watered. There is a reason I have to stay away. It smelled like vanilla and
honey. I tore myself away from the scent and went into Max’s room, his scent
powdery fresh, like baby talc.

Like the mom that I am, I
could not help myself. I picked up the few toys scattered through his room and
put them back in the toy box. I folded the few clothes on the dressed and put
them away. I looked through his backpack and found a progress report. His
teacher mentioned her concern over his antisocial behavior. I guess she did not
know what his life was now like. He grades were good overall, he did not seem
like he got into trouble. He responded when spoken to, other than that he
stayed to himself.

I missed them so much, I
wandered the house for a bit longer, looking at the pictures on the wall of how
much the kids have grown. Jazz was older now she was a teenager now. I had
missed this time. This was the time a daughter needed her mother the most. It
was a time of change. When a child is no longer a child. What I noticed about
every picture was that their smiles never touched their eyes. They both had the
same almond shaped eyes. Max’s hair was almost jet black. My children were my
everything. My world revolved around them.

I made my way back to
Jazz’s room and curled up on her tiny bed. I was surprised by how much I had
lost out on. I was lost in thought; memories from the past, when I first held
her in my arms, when she first learned to walk. I remember her first day of
school. All of the memories I had of them started flashing through my mind.
There faced a blur. it was not until I heard the door knob to her room turn
that I knew I had over stayed my welcome. I jumped out of the window before she
could see me, before her scent overpowered my senses. I did not have time to
close the window. I heard Jazz call for Axel, the fear in her voice. I scanned
Axel’s thoughts briefly, he thought someone had broken in. He was calling the
police. By then I was running and I left his mind.

 I was running away from
my past and from them. I did not know where I was going and the thing I knew was
to just keep running. I kept running west somewhere. I began to see the
thinning of the towns. I think I was somewhere outside of Houston. I could not
recall. I was not paying attention to where I was going as I ran.

“Look at Salome, always
running away from her problems,” I thought to myself.  

While I was running I
lost track of time. I was not to entirely sure where I was at this moment when
I heard a loud crash. I stopped to listen. The sound of metal bending, glass
shattering was enough to catch my attention. I began ran toward the sound. The
closer I got to the accident the stronger the smell. I could smell, the warm,
salty blood and my mouth watered. My hunger had intensified since I had left
Axel’s. I could still smell Jazz’s sweet vanilla and honey scent and it taunted
me. The sweet warm aroma filled the air. I knew whoever had spilled that much
blood was no longer alive. The blood would be useless. Still out of curiosity I
wandered to the scene.

It was a horrific scene I
walked in on. I was not prepared for what I saw. I still had not heard the
sirens. They must not have been called yet. I had made my way to railroad
track. The track rose at a steep incline. If you were driving down this road at
night you would not have seen a vehicle on the other side.

I could smell the blood,
heavily and it taunted me to no end. I slowly approached the steep incline
afraid of what I would see. On the other side of the track was a horrific
sight. Had I been human I would have turned around and vomited at the sight of
something so horrific. I saw an old golden Buick on top of a mangled Chevy or
what was left of it. I could tell the Chevy was new it still had the paper tags
on it.

I could not make out what
the Chevy was because it was so mangled I was sure its occupants were dead. The
only thing I could think of was that the old Buick flew over the railroad track
and landed on top of the Chevy. I approached the wreckage. The driver of the
Buick was bloodied but from the warmth of his body he was not going to die. I
was not too sure of the passenger. I don’t think she wore a seat belt. The
upper half of her body rested on top of the hood of the car. Her lower half was
still inside the car. She had gone through the windshield and was not fully
ejected. I was unsure if she had been torn in two. Her eyes were open wide,
pieces of her face and skin had been peeled off of her, revealing the muscle
underneath. Her face, neck and arms torn to shreds by the sharp edges of the
broken glass. She looked like a crumpled rag doll.

I could smell the booze
on these two. The man turned in my direction. I don’t know if he truly saw me
or was just dazed. He still looked as though he was in shock and could not
comprehend what had just occurred. I began to hear the sirens; the sound was
faint. They must be on their way, I thought to myself. I crouched down a bit to
check on the occupants of the other vehicle. I heard a low moan of pain and
then the scream. I could see a woman lying in an awkward position across the
front seat. She was slowly moving. I began to smell gasoline. The sirens were
still some ways away.

I did not know how much longer
until their arrival. My mouth was watering at the delicious smell of blood. I
licked my lips. I was trying desperately to control myself. I could feel the
hungry burn deep inside. I would not take these lives. I had to fight myself to
resist the urge. The woman’s scream shattered my thoughts. I went around the
wreckage to see if I could pull the woman out. The door on the passenger side
was smashed like an accordion, but there was just enough room to try to pull
the her through the window if I did not give in to my nature.

I approached the window,
at this point I was still unnoticed. I reached my arm into the Chevy, and ran
my hand over the woman’s head. Her hair was matted with blood. I withdrew my
blood-soaked hand and inhaled the scent. I closed my eyes to fight my true
nature. When I opened them again I was composed. The woman had felt my hand on
her head and tried to lift her head. Her frightened brown eyes looked at me. I
could see her tears. Her face was badly cut, her lip was severely split, her
nose was broken, I could see the cartilage.

“Can you move,” I gently
asked.

“Yes,” at this she
panicked. She began to scream for help. There was something off about her
pleas. She feared me. She was desperate. I told her I would not harm her. She
looked at me and relaxed. Fear still written on her damaged face. I gently
slithered my upper body into the vehicle and held onto the bottom of the
vehicle with my feet to balance myself. I put my arms under her and gently
pulled her out. She yelled out in pain. I noticed her leg was hanging limply.
It must have dislocated. I saw more blood. I tried not speak anymore and I held
my breath. My mouth was watering from the hunger. I carried the woman in my
arms and set her on the side. She looked around her as though she was unsure of
something, her eyes looked wild; frightened, lost.

“Amber,” she said,
quietly at first, as though she was unsure of herself. Her voice suddenly rose
several octaves as she panicked and she began to yell for Amber. I looked in
the vehicle, again, in the back of the mangled mess, I could make out a
lifeless body. The long blond locks colored by her own blood. She looked so
angelic. So peaceful and yet the blood still flowed in her. I could hear her
heart begin to stutter. The body lay there broken and unrecognizable. There was
so much blood everywhere. This girl would not live to see the sun rise. I
sighed in despair.

I looked at the woman and
shook my head. She began to cry and scream.

“No! Not my baby! God, Not
my baby! Please, not my baby!” she cried. Her cries tore at my very core.

I held the woman in my
arms and I felt her body sag against mine. I could feel her despair. Her pain
was a pain that I understood all too well. She would give anything and
everything to save her child. I saw the fear and understanding cross her eyes
and still she tried to fight me off. I held her as she cried and screamed. I
held her back. I wanted to protect the woman from seeing her child. No mother
should ever have to see their child this way.

I wanted to comfort her
but I did not dare do so. Still I held my breath. I did not want to reveal
myself to the woman but as a mother I could not leave her. I let go of the
woman and I thought to give her one last moment with her child. I reached into
the small opening of the back of the vehicle. The woman on the hood was gone,
her heart beat no more. The man began to speak. I heard him ask for help
getting out. He was still intoxicated. I gave him a quick once over. It did not
look as though he was seriously hurt. I took a breath, most of the blood on him
belonged to the woman on the hood.

I went back to what I was
doing. The sound of the sirens was getting closer. I had about two minutes’
tops. I needed to rush this. I did not have any time to be gentle. I pulled the
destroyed door off the hinge and I pulled out the tan leather passenger seat in
order to get the girl out. It would have taken the fire department about thirty
minutes with the jaws of life, maybe longer with this tangled mess. I saw the
mangled body of the girl. I hesitated for a second and I pulled her out of the
mangled wreckage. I slowly carried her. I cradled her in my arms to her mother.
The girl was broken beyond salvation. I laid the girl in her mother’s arms. The
woman cried at the sight. The girls head was bleeding heavily. Her mother was
trying to hold her broken skull together. I could see the brain matter seeping
out. The pressure on her brain was too much for her. I could still hear her
heart, slowing, stuttering.

The mother’s screams
shattered the otherwise silent night. The sirens were only blocks away. I could
see the flashing lights approaching. It was just an ambulance. They were not
prepared for this. I could hear the paramedics thoughts. They were young, and
new to this line of work. I could hear one of the them get on the radio asking
for another bus, I could hear another siren approaching, maybe a police car.

I turned my attention
back to the mother, her tears and screams were one that I was familiar with. It
was a gut wrenching pain, one that time can never ease. She turned to me
suddenly and begged me to help her daughter. I could not.

“Please help her. Save
her,” her pleas were desperate. I understood her anguish, but this is not the
life I would have wanted for my child. Yet, I too, would want someone to save
my daughter. I could not imagine the pain of losing a child to death, the way
this woman was feeling right now. I lost my family to a different kind of death
and this was not something I would do for anyone.

She continued to plead
with me save her daughter. I could read her mind clearly, the vision of me
tearing the door off the hinge was a replay, she gathered I was not entirely
normal. Her eyes pled with me, her faced distorted in anguish. I avoided the
look of her eyes, the memory of me ripping the door off.

It was a silent battle
between the two of us. I was not ready to do this to another person much less a
child. What mother would want this for their child? I quietly asked myself.

“Please, you don’t know
what it is that you ask,” I told her.

“Please, you have to save
her, she is all I have,” she begged me. She grabbed my cold hand and gasped.
Realization dawned on her. I was something other worldly. No one should be this
cold on a warm night. I heard her thoughts and her fear. She had no explanation
for what I was and she firmly believed her God had sent me to save her
daughter.

“I am sorry. I cannot do
this to either of you. You do not want to live your life wondering if she lived
or not,” I tried to gently explain it to her.

I knew that desperation
makes people unreasonable. I could not do this. I did not know how, much less
the mechanics of it.

“Save her,” I heard the
mother’s silent whisper.

I caved. I would have
wanted someone to have saved my daughter if I had been this woman. The
paramedics have been on the scene for a few minutes. They did not see us. They
were focused on the man and his partner at the moment. They were busy assessing
the situation. They too knew it was bad. They called for backup and a chopper.
From their thoughts I gathered that the nearest trauma unit was about an hour
drive toward Houston. I heard them call for a bag. I could hear their fallen
voices. They had never seen something in their entire lives. This was something
that they would carry with them. This day would haunt them for the rest of
their lives.

I lifted the girl in my
arms and gently cradled her like a baby. I took off into the woods before the
paramedics turned to the other side of the vehicle. I pitied the girl’s mother.
She would no longer see her only child. I entered the girls fractured mind and
I saw her memories. They were fragmented, slowly becoming darker. The girl was still
in her teens and excited about prom. I glimpsed the prom dress. I saw sadness,
another child lost. A lost brother, sick. Soon her mind went black. She was
slipping away.