Back to You
Back to You
Sia Wales
For Edgardo, my angel. For your love, your support, your patience and your unconditional good cheer.
For the magic you bring into my life each day, which gives me yet another reason to keep smiling.
For you, the only man who ever truly loved me.
Thank you for everything. Thank you for existing.
I love you too.
The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.
Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful.
— Oscar Wilde, “The Picture of Dorian Gray”
Until now I ignored what terror was; now I know. It is as if a frozen hand settled on your heart. It’s as if the heart leapt, to the point of crashing, in an empty abyss.
— Oscar Wilde
Characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Sogs, soundtracks and brands that were mentioned in the book are to be considered as belonging to their respective owners, copyright holders.
Copyright © 2014 by Sia Wales.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-88-98825-00-4
Editing by Galactus Sas
Web Agency, cover design and book design by CEV Srl
Table of Contents
A Special Occasion
I feel like
I have slept for an eternity. My body is stiff, as if it has been sitting still all this time, and my confused thoughts drag through my mind slowly. A blinding ray of moonlight surrounds my body and brightens Medford, the cold and cloudy town in Massachusetts, which became my hometown four years ago. A tangled, multicolored web of bizarre dreams and nightmares weigh down on my head. Intense. Very intense.
Excruciating anxiety and fear permeate my typically frustrating nightmare in which I can’t run ahead fast enough.
The massive monster with blazing yellow eyes that I know so well makes the nightmare even more terrifying, and I know his name. Vuk Wolf. Terror and ecstasy combine to form an indescribable cocktail. And the faster I try to run, the clumsier I become.
Then the moment arrives. I feel him getting closer, but never seem to wake up in time. And when I forget just what I’m running from, I realize there’s nothing
to
run from, nothing to fear. That nothing exists beyond that dark, dreary forest. This is about the time when the screaming begins. My nights are crowded with nightmares, and the nightmare has always been the same these past few weeks. You’d think I would have anticipated it that after so many times, after the last full moon, and that I would be bored if not numb to it. I doubt that anyone else would be frightened by a nightmare like this––yet terror is not the most powerful emotion I feel in the nightmare, because I see the clear image of J., the angel, in clear view.
“Stella,” whispers the familiar voice.
But it is not J.’s voice I hear.
The vortex, more like the abyss I fell in, already submerges me in deep pain, so why not? I search the recesses of my memories. Not the real ones––that would be too painful––but the conjured-up ones, like Vuk’s voice, which I heard the night before and the night before that. I keep reliving them before falling asleep with tears rolling down my emotionless face.
It is difficult to leave that vision and awaken. It is a dream that cannot be buried in Jason’s gloomy and surreal crypt, which I refuse to visit because it would hurt too much. I force myself to leave the nightmare behind, and while I come about, the real world emerges.
I can’t remember what day of the week it is, but I’m pretty sure that I should be at school. After the road accident that no one talks about anymore, I took a break for a few days. Or maybe I
should
be at work? I take a deep breath and wonder how to face the day, the evening ahead, the next day, and the one after that.
“Stella,” the voice calls again. Something warm brushes my forehead gently. Life seems so gloomy that I could try to trick myself into pretending a little.
I turn to see who is joining my adventure, but there’s no need to see him to know whom it is. Vuk, my best friend. I’d recognize that voice from a million miles away, and it never fails to stir deep emotions inside me. He’s sitting on the floor at the end of the sofa with an arm perched on the armrest. He stares at me, immobile, just a few inches from my face.
The bright white moonbeams, the glimmer of a flawless, cloudless evening takes the place of my dream’s blindingly yellow eyes––the same eyes I now see probing my pale, ashen face. In those eyes I read the pages of a mysterious book that only I can decode.
He would look at me with those same eyes. His smile would be on those same lips, or nearly. He would keep being the person that knows me best, at least for as long as I’ve been here. This is what I read in his eyes at first glance. But I keep telling myself it’s just a dream. The gloomy glance betrays his deep sorrow.
It’s clear that beyond the impossible feelings he has for me, there is also a tie that binds us, one that runs deep and goes beyond our friendship, for which he would always come for me.
It was a mistake to let my imagination run wild. Well, maybe “let” is the wrong word. I forced it to run after my recurring nightmares, and I lost all control. I allowed myself to get carried away, yet it is still much better than the silent visit of a few nights ago. He was more cautious; he kept his distance, even if just by just a few steps.
I force myself to keep my eyes closed. The dream is extraordinarily lifelike. But I’m about to awaken, and I know that in a few seconds he will vanish, as he usually does. Sometimes I get lost in daydreams too. With a sigh of resignation, my eyes let the real world enter and dissolve the mirage. Vuk is still here; the sharp features of his perfect face just a few inches from mine.
It takes me no time to decide that, given I’ve already lost my mind, I will continue enjoying the illusion of a gentle Vuk for as long as I am able.
Vuk, with that breathtaking smile of his, puts an arm around my shoulder and looks at me intensely. His facial expression mesmerizes me. The bright emerald of his eyes lights up and begins to glow.
Rather than being frightened, I choose to stare at him awkwardly, as if I were expecting to be reproached.
I stretch out my other hand to touch him; he mirrors me as if he were my reflection. But where our fingers should meet, there is nothing but burning heat.
It’s real. Vuk is next to me, I can feel his embrace. His voice, the scent of his body, his face. It all feels so much closer than when he came to see me the other evening.
He’s always there, by my side. He seems intent on not leaving this time. His warm, perfect lips brush against my numb cheek.
“Happy anniversary, little girl,” he whispers, his usual crooked smile spread across his face. He nods his head to welcome me back into the world.
“What?” I ask, puzzled. My throat feels coarse. And that golden reflection of his eyes suddenly blinds me. I shield my eyes with my fists and wake up, startled, breathless, eyes wide open.
His hand brushes a lock of hair from my cheek.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather see your face. You have no idea how much I’ve missed it. Did I frighten you?”
“Huh”? I sense an underlying unease in his voice. I open my eyes, barely breathing.
“Did I frighten you?” he repeats, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes that resemble burns. “But you know that I would never, ever hurt you.”
“Yes, Vuk, I know.”
My eyes wander away from his face and search my surroundings to make sure that I’m not still dreaming. I see the darkness outside the open window.
“Wow, that sure was sticky sweet.”
“Not really,” I whisper shyly.
I look at him again and feel my cheeks blushing along with the certainty that Vuk really is there, next to me. His eyes continue to glow in emerald green. This surprises me; usually the version of Vuk that appears in my dreams has jade eyes.
“Oh, shit.” My voice is still coarse from sleeping. His face looks even more anxious.
A shiver runs through my bones, from the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes and with a moan, I fall back against the headrest, pulling the duvet high over my head.
I knew this moment would come, it had been on the tip of my thoughts for a long while, constantly threatening to make an appearance. But I didn’t expect it to come so soon.
Without a sound, he slides onto the sofa next to me and lifts the cover to look at me.
“What’s wrong, Stella?”
I don’t think I can face him just yet, but he’s leaning over me, his face an inch away from mine. I try to control my breathing, to calm down, but I jump when I see the flash of jade in his eyes.
“You’re here. You’re … back.” I hadn’t really been following what he was saying. I hadn’t even realized we were talking and that he’d come in through the window. And I don’t understand to what he referred.
“Yes, I’m home.” Vuk’s smile is reserved. “I’ve come back to you.”
Reality suddenly becomes clear to me and it weighs down in my belly.
“Time goes by. Even when it seems impossible.” My eyes stare blankly, veiled by tears that are on the verge of flowing.
“Time might go by randomly, little girl, but it does go by. Even for you.” His fingers trace the outline of my face. “Maybe you should get some more sleep. You’re delirious.”
“I’m not tired anymore,” I yawn. “What time is it?”
“It’s already past nine in the evening. You’ve been sleeping for a couple of hours.”
I frown. It’s all been clear for days now. Vuk is my best friend, I would have loved him for a lifetime, but that would never have been enough for him. But I need Vuk, like a junkie needs her drug. For so long now, almost a year, he’s been my crutch and I’m into it deeper that I could ever have imagined possible. How I wished he were my brother, a blood brother, so that I could have a relationship with him that didn’t make me feel guilty.
Tears of anguish and frustration flow down my cheeks. When you love someone, you have a weapon of mass destruction in your hands. Anyone who is loved risks being crushed, as I was a year ago, and then again just a few days back.
“Stella.” Vuk turns the full force of his golden, fiery eyes onto me.
“What?”
“This is silly. Why are you crying?” He bends down to delicately embrace me. “Did I frighten you, really?”
“What are you doing here?” I wipe away the smudged mascara from my face.
“First tell me why you’re crying.”
“Because I’m pissed at you,” I retort angrily, crossing my arms protectively over the duvet.
His hands approach my face as he gazes into my eyes.
“I’m here for a very special occasion. If you remember a while back, you said I could stay at Jeff’s house whenever I wanted to.”
“Didn’t the way I avoided you at Jamie’s party send a clear enough message to you? It was my way of retracting that invitation!” I try to force a smile, but feel as if I am about to burst into tears.
“Listen, Stella, I’m sorry about the night of the full moon and everything that happened.”
“Why were you so angry at me?”
“I wasn’t angry at you.”
“Why did you attack me at the factory?”
“I’ve explained that a million times.”
“Just tell me the truth, I beg you.”
“I could just blame the animal that is in me, but the truth is that it was just the man I’ve become. I screwed up and I truly am sorry.”
“Thanks for being honest.” I lift my blank gaze from my hands and look at him, bewildered, but my eyes are still a blank.
“Look, I didn’t come here to talk about me.” Vuk lowers his gaze.
“What is it, then? I’m listening.” I sink further into Jeff’s sofa in the study next to my bedroom and stare lifelessly into space.
“You’re still upset, Stella.” I don’t understand what he means, but I feel like he’s pushing me and I make an effort to concentrate.
“I’m not upset.”
“Maybe that came out wrong. I just don’t want you to be sad anymore, Stella, that’s all I wanted to say.”
I look at him out of the corner of my eyes, and see him turning to look at me, worried.
“I’m just fine.”
He scrutinizes my stern expression and changes his strategy.
“I waited a while, I hoped you’d get better!” He punches the wall next to my head to get my attention. “Now you have to pull yourself together, Stella!”
He succeeds. We both know that my mood has not improved.
He stares at me in frustration, and I mull over the meaning of his words.
“Now I’m going to call Scott and ask him to send Jeff home,” he warns. I feel my world collapse. But my eyes light up with the first flame of life since who knows when.
“Maybe that would help you,” Vuk adds.
“Or maybe not.” My reply is sharp as I realize just where all this is leading. I’m not sure it will work, if I can’t be totally frank and willing to talk it over. Of course, I could just spout out the truth, if I wanted to spend the rest of my days in a padded cell.
“What did I do?” I ask, mystified.
“Nothing! That’s the problem!”
I act dumb, staring at the armrest of the sofa.
“What?” I repeat, distraught and confused. “I don’t get it, Vuk. Just what is the problem?”
“You never do anything, ever!”
“That’s not fair! Would you prefer me to get myself into trouble, as I usually do?” I try to inject as much energy into my voice as possible.
“Getting into trouble would be better than this.”
“Oh, yeah?” I object, challengingly. But my face gives away the weakness of my argument.
“Sure, at least you’d be doing something. You’re… you’re burnt out, Stella.” As soon as Vuk says this, I realize just how burnt out my voice sounds.
I take a deep breath. His accusation has hit the spot.
“Then tell me what I should do. Give Jamie a call? Plan to go out?”
“Listen, little girl, I think maybe you… need help.” Vuk holds his breath awaiting my reaction.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, maybe you need to talk to someone close to you,” he replies in frustration. “Your dad, for example.”
“Do you really want Jeff to come back?” My tone is sharp, now that I understand what he’s aiming for.
He punches the wall again.
“I want whatever is best for you!”
“Ok,” I retort. “But first you’re upset because I sit here doing nothing, then you say that you don’t want me to go out with Jamie?”
“Look, we both know what is going on, Stella, and it’s not doing you any good.”
“Right.” My voice is low, monotonous. “If you say so.”
“Stella,” he whispers, his voice velvety smooth.
I look at him, uncomfortable but keep listening. Something about the expression on his face captures my attention for a moment.
“I know that our rules say I’m not allowed to wish you a happy ‘welcome home’ anniversary, but this is the first one since we met and it only comes once in a lifetime. You ought to celebrate the event.”
“What do you mean?” I hiss, the words barely coming out, the thought flashing through my mind that it has been exactly one year since Jason left. “Are you saying what I think you mean?” I ask breathlessly. It’s meant to be a rhetorical question.
“You know exactly what I mean. That it’s a special occasion.” I feel his sweet breath on my face.
“Right, what an idiot I am,” I whisper. “I didn’t realize that today is the fourth of October.”
