Arianna Rose: The Awakening (Part 2)

Published by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

Copyright © 2012

All rights reserved.

First edition:
November
2012

Arianna
found herself standing
on unsure legs,
surrounded by lush fields of green
speckled
with
blossoms in
vibrant
shade
s of pink and purple
.  The dimness and haze of the nightclub she’d stood in seconds earlier had disappeared, replaced instead with golden light
that kissed and caressed the vivid landscape.  The incessant
rumble and thump of bass in
music
that had blared
had been silenced
, swapped with
a
faint whisper of a breeze stirring tall grass and the distant sound of birds chirping
. 
The entire world she’d existed in moments ago had
vanished,
she
had
vanished.  Stephanie, Luke, and the
group
they’d been with
, along with the rest of the club-goers
,
had
gone
,
faded
into an oblivion beyond her reach
.  She
was no longer
with them.  She
had been transported
, impossibly,
to
a picturesque meadow.
 
And she wasn’
t alone. 
A substantial hand gripped hers, a hand attached to an equally substantial arm and body. 

The man that held her hand, the same on
e
she’d seen watching her on the side of the road on two occasions, the one she’d noticed in the nightclub,
remained with her, and
towered over her, as glorious and golden as the sunshine touching the earth they stood upon.
 
She looked up at him and he smiled a kind
,
almost affectionate smile, and she noticed
that
he
r
hand
, the one
he held
,
tingled.
The
slight tingle moved up her arm to her shoulder, warm and pleasant, and spread.  It thrummed through her in time with her heartbeat for several seconds, a calming sensation that radiated from him in
waves of energy so strong she
swore
they were tangible
.

She released his hand and felt the calm come to an abrupt end.  Everything that had happened rushed at her.
  Suddenly
,
the sun felt strong overhead.  Her body heated and flushed with warmth.

“What the hell?” she shrieked.  “What the hell?  What just happened?  Where am I?
  Where are my friends?
” 

Panic began to sweep through her like fire through dried brush, racing and torching everything in its wake. 
She wondered
whether
she were de
a
d,
and
the field she stood Elysium, the
fabled
home of the blessed after death. 
After all, the man before her could easily
have
be
en
an angel. 
Then she remembered what she’d done in the alleyway before staggering back into the club and realized no paradise would await her after death;  she was very much alive. 
Anxiety filled her, burning and corroding any sense of reason she’d ever possessed.

“
Shh, c
a
l
m down, Arianna,” the man said and searched her eyes with his.  The brilliant blue of his irises was a shade she’d never seen and matched the hue of the sky
above
, only more crystalline in their clarity.

“Calm down?  Are you
kidding
me?  What the hell is happening?  Am I dead, or drugged?  What is going on?” she shouted.

“You’re not dead, Arianna,” he said calmly.  “And you haven’t been drugged, though drugs were offered to you before you went into the Blue Ivy tonight, were they not?”

“Well, yeah,” she fumbled before realizing there was no possible way he could have known about Stephanie’s offer unless he had been standing right beside her when it had happened.  She and Stephanie had been alone.  “How do you know about that?
And how do you know my name?
” she asked
and felt
another flash of fright blaze within her. 

“I was with you.”

She stared at him incredulously, becoming more and more convinced by the moment that a hallucinogenic drug had been slipped into one of her beers, that levitating and thrashing one man into a building and setting ablaze another would all be part of a horrific, drug-addled memory in the near future.  And this beautiful man who spouted utter nonsense was a figment of her imagination, little more than brain garbage tangled in the effects of the drugs.

“Yeah, right,” she said laughing in a crazed way that was foreign to her own ears.

“I was.  I’m always with you, in a sense.”

“
Okay,
whatever you say,” she
pacified
going along with what she supposed was a delusion
.

“I hear your mocking tone,” he said levelly.  “And whatever you think this is, a dream or hallucination, you’re wrong.  This
is
happening.”

Arianna did not know what to say or how to react.  If she were experiencing drug related delirium, nothing she said or did would matter.  She remained silent.

“Are you telling me I don’t look familiar to you?” he persisted
in his serene tone
.

“Of course you look familiar to me,” she replied.  I saw you just the other day when I crashed my bike, and the day before that.”

“And you saw me in the club,” he added.

“I
thought
I saw you in the club.  But that could have been the onset of whatever drug some asshole popped in my beer
, the beginning of the freaking delusion I’m having right now.”

“You did see me in the club.  I was there, and you were not drugged.  No drug would affect you, not that I would have allowed anyone to drug you in the first place.”

“No drugs affect me?” she asked indignantly.  “I’ve smoke pot before and,” she said and her voice trailed off.  She did not complete her sentence
, could not
.

“And what, Arianna?”
he probed.

She searched her memory for one time
,
any
time,
she had become high from marijuana she’d smoked, but came up empty.  She could not recall a single instance when she had succumbed to the influence of marijuana or any other substance she’d abused.  She couldn’t recall ever being drunk and had long since assumed her father, whoever he was, had had an unusually high tolera
nce for alcohol he’d imparted
to her.

“Nothing,” she lied.

“You’ve never got
ten
high from
the pot you’ve smoked, have you?
”

His words were more of a statement
than
a question. 

“And you’ve never been drunk either, though you’ve tried.”

“No,” she answered
begrudgingly
.

“Did you ever think that was strange?”

She had though
t
it strange.  Many things in her life had been strange.

“I’ve been with you your whole life, watching you, waiting,” he said not
pausing
for her answer.  “I know your life has been fa
r from ordinary.”

The way he looked at her, his tone of voice combined with how he practically read her mind and anticipated what she’d say next were
as
compelling
as they were
disturbing.  Still, all of it had to be a dream of some sort.  He spoke so sincerely, so openly, it would have been easy for her to
give in to his words
, to believe them.  Of course, if he’d show
n
the slightest shred of sanity, he would have furthered his cause.  What he was saying was completely preposterous. 

“Been with me my whole life?” she echoed his absurd claim.

“Yes.  It is my mission to ensure your safety and guide you as you mature, as your powers strengthen.”

“All right, enough!  This
crap
has to stop.  Even if this is some kind of hallucinations, it’s got to stop.  I can’t listen to
this crazy shit
anymore
!”

“You’re saying all of this is crazy, but deep down, you know it’s true.  The moment you saw me on
the side of the road, you knew.  Y
ou recognized me.”

She wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but he was right.  Something had clicked when she’d seen him, something hidden deep within her had sprung forth like a sudden recollection from a vague dream or a missing puzzle piece appearing unexpectedly after days of looking for it.  He had appeared like the missing puzzle piece or muddled face from a long-forgotten dream.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said deciding not to refute his claim.

“My name is Desmond.”

“Desmond what?” she asked
and expected
a last name.

“Desmond, and nothing more,” he replied cryptically.

“What, so you’re like Cher or Madonna?  No last name?” she joked.

He did not laugh or smile, just stared at her with his crystal-blue eyes.

“Okay, this is awkward.  Don’t you know who those women are?”

“Yes, of course.”

“It was a joke
.  I was joking
.  You know,
trying to be
funny
.”

“I know what you were trying t
o be, that you were trying to de
fuse a situation you cannot control with humor.  You do that a lot.”

The lack of emotion coming from his benevolent face seemed wrong.  Arianna felt heat prickle up her neck, anger partnering with it.

“Please save your armchair assessment of me, Desmond.  I was trying to be funny, that’s all.  No deeper meaning behind it,” she said and hated that she sounded so defensive.

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” he said earnestly and she felt frustrated anew.  “But I think we’re getting off topic here.”

“Off topic?  Are you kidding me?” she railed.
“
I didn’t even know there was a topic to be off of.”

“Yes you do.  We were talking about you, why I’ve been watching you, what you are,” he said evenly.

His calm demeanor was grating on her nerves, how he spoke so offhandedly
alleging she
had
powers and
what
, as opposed to
who
m
, she was.  She was Arianna Rose, just as she’d always been
, and he was a crackpot figment of her drugged imagination
.  

“Stop it!  Just stop talking about watching me and what I am.  I’m going to wake from this soon, so don’t bother trying to sell me your brand of crazy.”