10Elaine couldn't rid the image of Dr. Marcel Hill from her mind. It was like it had branded into it, stubbornly refusing to disappear. With ocean blue eyes and black hair, he struck her to be quite handsome, an asset he clearly did not regard. But she saw the reason why he did though whilst her eyes had focused on his skin. Long, jagged, pale scars travelled down his bare arms. A few thinner ones ran across his cheeks and jaw line.
But, she hadn't allowed herself to feel pity towards him because he gave her the pity look! I don't want your stinkin' pity, she'd thought angrily. I just want you to find out what the hell is wrong with me.
Elaine felt the caress of the gentle wind on her face, blowing bangs of her red hair off her forehead that had been shielding her eyes. "Thanks," she said to it, walking briskly athwart the parking lot, carrying the groceries she'd bought.
While she loaded them into her car, she contemplated a young woman about her age yanking the arm of a small boy of roughly eight years of age a few metres away. He was wailing noisily, his big eyes puffy and red with tears. There wasn't anyone else in the lot except for them. When she saw the young woman slap the boy hard on the face, Elaine flinched and something snapped inside of her.
Without much thought, she dashed forward to them and seized the crying boy into her strong arms. The young woman stared at her with acerbity as she kissed the boy's tears from his cheeks, attempting to hush him.
"Let him go!" The young woman cried, stretching her arms out to snatch him back except Elaine held onto him tight. How dare she ask for the boy back? After what she just did to him? No way. Elaine fought the urge to punch the woman but instead, settled for a choice more rational.
Elaine began to run with the boy, hoisting him up on her hip. The boy wrapped his legs around her waist. She ran as fast as her short legs could carry her, ignoring the young woman crying out for help. Elaine spotted the medical centre and sprinted for it with her all her strength. She burst through the doors, panting for breath.
"Miss Cassidy!" Elaine recognized Bell's pleasant voice. "What happened?" Bell advanced forward to help her.
Elaine dropped the child and signed, get the boy to call his dad. Her vision was spinning, clouded with black blobs. The dreaded white form materialized next to Bell who was helping the boy dial the number for his father. The form detailed, becoming a female figure, pallid tendrils smoothing it out. It was transparent and Elaine felt its icy presence make her blood run cold.
I will be back, the creature said, its voice eerie and echoing prior to vanishing however it wasn't soon enough. Elaine's throat narrowed, her heart faltered and zoned out. She felt off balance and was soon falling, waiting for the impact of the floor.
She blacked out before it came.
Elaine's heavy eyelids opened gradually and looked at a white ceiling. She was lying on her back on a soft mattress with a light sheet covering her body. Her heart was pounding sluggishly, and deliberately missed a beat when a face hovered over hers, worry creasing his face. It took her a second to realise who it was.
"Thank God! You're awake." Marcel sighed with relief, placing a cool hand on her lukewarm forehead. A tingle was left from where he had touched her as he removed his hand. "You okay?" His voice was warm and gentle and something about it made Elaine feel safe and secure. His blue eyes sparkled at her, welcoming her in. A sheet of paper and pen was handed to her, distracting her from his eyes. She glared at it, wanting it to burst up into flames. She did not want to write on paper all the time. She wanted to talk. However she knew she couldn't. Not now.
With a sigh, she sat up, waited for the dizziness to escape her head and a while later wrote, where am I? When she assessed the room she was in, she stiffened.
A cheeky grin broke onto his face, witnessing her reaction. "Yes, you are at my house."
Elaine collapsed back down onto a pillow with a soft moan. A dull ache throbbed at the base of her skull. It was actually quite intriguing. The only kind of pain Elaine had ever experienced was back pain.
"Are you feeling okay?" Marcel asked with his voice laced with concern and anxiety.
Fool, she thought. She nodded, just enjoying the snug satiny joy of the bed. Her bed was nothing compared to this. Must be because he's a doctor, she decided. He has to be bloody rich.
"Want some water?"
Elaine nodded. She listened as his footsteps softened in the distance. Goodness, how far is his kitchen? Must be one giant house, she thought. Marcel's room was simple though. The walls were a humble shade of beige adorned with framed pictures of people including Marcel himself. A large, light brown, wooden desk was against the left wall, piled with files, paperwork and multiple pens. All in all, it was a nice room.
She fiddled with the bed sheet nervously. She wasn't immensely pleased that her vanishing admirer had given her yet another visit and she certainly wasn't anticipating one either. She'd made it clear three years ago she'd wanted nothing to do with it. Yet, it just kept on coming like a lost puppy.
Marcel entered the room then holding a tall glass of water. He handed it to Elaine and she gulped it down, savouring every drop. She hadn't realised she was so thirsty. She gave it back to him and wrote on the sheet, can I go home now?
His face held obvious disappointment but he didn't press her. "Yes, Elaine, let me show you the door." He waited for her to get out of the bed and led her to the door. Elaine didn't bother observing his house. She just wanted to get out of here. He opened a tall, dark wooden door and bowed with a smirk on his face. A furious blush found its way and she speedily left the house into the cool breeze after nodding her thanks. She hated her vulnerability with men.
Something told her she'd see a lot of that man and not only that but, she knew they were going to get along just fine.
"I'm ugly," Marcel told himself as he looked at himself in the mirror. "It's a wonder no one has run off and reported a monster that works at a medical centre." He snorted, finding his own comment funny.
That was the thing. There was no one left for him to share laughs with. Not one person. Not even a neighbour. They were all too old and nasty for his liking. Nevertheless, Elaine was something different, special in a way. He had a desire to know her, to help her overcome her mute condition. But it was going to be hard and tricky. Elaine was an elaborate woman with something dark. He was determined to find out what it was.
He recalled an earlier conversation he had had with Stacey, one of the other secretaries.
"Do you know who Elaine Cassidy is?" He was being merely curious.
Stacey frowned. "Don't be nice to her, Marc. She's nothing but a bitch."
Stacey's harsh words surprised Marcel. He sighed then queried, "How? She's mute."
"She's doing nothing but trying to get attention. Just ignore her and you'll be fine." With that, she slung her handbag over her shoulder and strutted out of the centre with her four inch red stilettos. The people in the town indicated they were nice excluding once rumours spread, their tongues were laced with a toxic poison of judgemental decisions.
He traced over the scars on his abdomen with his finger, remembering vividly the knife that had carved them in, the pressure on it. Oh how he wished he wasn't scarred like so. He'd learnt something about the people around him a few years ago. Most people are shallow and see only your appearance. Only a handful of people will penetrate his skin and see what he really is. And that handful of his was gone forever.
In order to distract himself, he picked up the newspaper. His stomach flipped when he saw the headlines.
Serial killer escapes prison, newest route unknown.
Marcel flipped open to the page about the article and began to read,
Henry Parsons, famous serial killer, has escaped prison after ten years of confinement. Parsons is responsible for the murder of six people; four in 1995 and two in 1996. The words, "You'll never find me" were painted in his cell wall, obviously in one of his cellmates blood because his dead body was found discarded in the corner of the cell. The police are now searching for Parsons, hoping to retrieve him safely.
The name Henry Parsons kept on repeating itself in his mind, fuelling the new ferocity building up in his heart. "How could they have let him escape?" He asked himself, slamming a fist into his open palm. He was about to read on when piercing knocks hit the front door. He groaned, pulled on a shirt and ran to the door. As soon as he opened it, he cried out in alarm.
It was Elaine, waving a sheet of paper in his face. Blushing, he took the sheet and skimmed through it, trying to not notice Elaine fuming like an angry bull, her hands on her hips.
Where the hell is my CAR?! She'd written on the sheet.
His eyes widened. She'd found out. He began to panic, something he hadn't done in years. He immediately found the control he's been practicing ages and calmly said, "After you fainted, the boy called his dad but the babysitter wasn't very happy. She kind of bought spray paint and damaged your car." Her mouth fell open, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't know it was her until the police caught her. She already paid the fine. They towed it away but Bell will bring it back for you tomorrow."
Elaine pressed a hand to her heart, sighing out with relief.
"Did you want me to take you home?" Marcel offered politely. He really wanted to get to know this woman, even if he had to take desperate measures. His heart leaped when she nodded her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. He quickly found his car keys and placed a hand on the small of her back, leading her to his car. He opened the passenger door and she climbed in hesitantly. When he got in and started the car, he noticed how she had positioned herself. She was sitting up very straight, her head hung with her thick locks of hair shadowing her eyes.
Elaine pointed out meekly where to take her and as she did, Marcel wondered why Elaine was the way she was. So far, through the observations he'd done of her, he knew she was shy, mute and sat with her back like a plank of wood; so far an thing made him burn with curiosity. While she'd been asleep, once he'd watched over her, she tossed and turned, rough moans escaping her lips. Was she a person who endured nightmares?
A pointed slap on this thigh forced him back to reality. He slammed on the brake, the car jerking into an abrupt halt. His body was yanked forward then thrown back again. He whipped his head around and glared Elaine who was glaring back with twice as much power. He wanted to cringe back with fear yet his pride got the best of him.
"What on earth was that for?!" He demanded, rubbing the back of his neck.
Elaine threw her arms up with exasperation and pointed right. He'd meant to take the turn and he almost missed it. His anger melted away and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Elaine. I didn't mean to get angry." He whispered bashfully, looking down onto the steering wheel.
Her hand grabbed his chin and turned his face to hers. Their eyes met and Marcel just desired to be lost in her alluring, deep set, violet eyes. She patted his head and let his chin go, pointing again to the right.
Marcel shook his head, confused at what just happened. He accelerated and took the narrow turn down the street. After a couple of minutes, Elaine waved her hands out, indicating for him to stop. He took the chance to observe where she lived. His mouth gaped open.
A small, cream cottage rested on the edge of an elegant river bed, surrounded by weeping willows and other various trees on a ground of luscious green grass. A white picket fence enclosed it, stopping openly at the edge of the water. A moon garden flourished below one of its windows.
He pointed a finger at the cottage. "You live here?" He asked, incredulous and awed.
Elaine just grinned and was about to remove her seatbelt when she froze. She was thrown back onto the seat by an unseen force and her lips trembled. Marcel grabbed her hand and tried yanking her but her body wouldn't budge. It was like she was pinned down.
"What is going on?" He cried, frantic.
She was suddenly thrown forward then slammed back onto the seat. Marcel was watching on with terror, his heart and stomach doing somersaults. Her body quivered and she whimpered with pain. Her back arched then she fell limply onto the seat, unconscious. Marcel gawked at her, his mind reeling with a million questions on what just happened.
He reached over and cautiously unclipped her seatbelt, ready for anything to occur. When nothing did, he cradled her in his arms and climbed out of the car, heading over to the cottage. He had trouble opening the picket fence and had to thrown her over his shoulder. After he opened it, he replaced her in his arms and continued. Luckily, the front door was unlocked. He didn't stop to marvel over her residence. He found the nearest piece of furniture, a red couch, and lay her down onto it. She was out cold, like she'd been hit by a car. Her breathing was steady and she looked peaceful. She appeared happy to be unconscious, to be gone from the world for only a brief period of time.
Marcel found himself just scrutinizing her. Her ivory skin was smooth and lightly freckled on her face. Her flame red hair lay tangled around her head, locks spread out like starfish. Her lips were drained of colour like when he'd met her. He wondered whether it was natural or it was because of the strange things that always happened to her. He'd admired her courage when she 'saved' the boy from a nasty babysitter but he noticed that sometimes she was really quiet and acquiescent like a mouse. She wasn't very strong willed either.
He was there for who knows how long. He lost track of time. Once Elaine finally woke up, she was disorientated. She jerked up and fell back down, a hand on her head. Marcel placed his own cool hand on her forehead. Her temperature was rising.
"I'll go get some water and towels." He said. He got up and found the kitchen. It was comfortable and golden yellow, resembling sunshine. He managed to find square cotton towels and soaked them with water. He then filled a glass with ice water. He carried it carefully back to Elaine who had closed her eyes again, a small crease between her brows.
All he wished to do was to help her.
A/N:
Review please =D Flames are reluctantly welcome...