Thanks for reading the first installment of my series. I got some pretty good feedback so far. Thank you to those who sent me their kind words. I really do appreciate it.
This next installment brings up mostly of what most people want to hide: their uncensored, raw emotions. I don't want to ruin the surprise, but Brittany and Amanda do meet once again in this chapter. However, this time Brittany sees Amanda in full light, her eyes open and her hood off. What makes that so important? You'll have to find out now won't you. lol
Thanks again and thanks in advance for reading part two of the series. Feedback and comments are always appreciated. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter Four: Diary Entry of A Mad Sane-Girl
August 24, 2154
Dearest Illitor,
I am very sorry for not talking to you recently. I've been trying to convince the guy who owns the bookstore that we have a house to go to, but he keeps insisting that we move in with him. I'm not sure what he's got on his mind, but the look in his eyes is troubling to me. He seems sincere and appears he wants the best for me, but so did Sgt. Cook and you remember how that went!
I've been trying to talk to Sarah, but my word fall upon deaf ears. She doesn't talk to me anymore. In fact I recently got a bus ticket to go see her grave at Potter's Field, the bookstore owner gave me the money actually. It looks very much the same as it did when I left. Poorly placed planted grass before a poorly planted stone. I am completely overwhelmed by the loneliness of it all. I know I've got you and Inikye, but Sarah was my betrothed best friend. She was always there to hold me at night whenever I managed to escape from my captor's grasp. She showed me what love is, Illitor. I don't know what to do, Illitor. I feel so lost without her. Even know as my pen writes these words, my eyes are crying out their own mourning for the loss of my beloved Sarah. The only comfort ans solace I found in seeing her grave was knowing she was far away from the true evil from inside the walls we both knew well. I bought her a rose from the gas station at one of the bus's stops an replanted it next to her stone. The only living memory I have is the picture the warden took of us those many months ago. God, Illitor, she is so beautiful.
I've been having these bazaar dreams in the few hours I get to sleep. I am with Sarah in this beautiful land that is foreign to my own eyes, but Sarah seems to know it well. We are happy together as we always have been. Even in my dream, she depends on my touch to comfort her woes, as I her. We are running through a field of wildflowers. The sun is out in full bloom along with the flowers we stand upon. It is here when I start to hear His voice calling me. He tries to lure me away from my Sarah with his lies and deceit. He tells me that Sarah is not my path to happiness, but rather the way to feel the sadness that was born from the torment of my incarceration. I try to talk back only to remember that, at least in the physical sense, I can't talk. Not even my mind's mouth can argue with Him. I am completely shut off from any argument. Meanwhile, Sarah is being attacked once again. My body frozen from being able to defend her; I fail her yet again like I did before. He tells me I am liar and can't protect those dear to me. It's here when I am released from His icy grasp and allowed to hold my cold dead Sarah. Her face as pale blue as she was lying on the embalming slab. Her eyes rolled over black and lifeless. Her flowing blood stains my clothes. Always here I awake in a cold sweat from this recurring nightmare. I know not what He is trying to tell me, or if he is just my mind's created torment from outside the walls. Illitor, need to feel my Sarah's embrace. I need to take in her scent once more. I need to feel her heart beat against mine. You don't understand the depth of the void her death has caused inside of me.
For some reason, that brings me back to this Brittany person. She is a sight to behold and behold her sight I have. However, she runs in fear of what I am. I see her everyday walking, or driving, to school. I see her when she goes for her run around the neighborhood and when she's at practice. I've even heard rumors about her going out of town for some kind of event. I would be honored to attend, but only my own two feet would get me there. She has even made efforts to see me. Without fear she watches me play in front of the bookstore, though she has yet to speak to me. I don't know what to make of her quite yet, but I do know that she is a good person at heart and would gladly give the shirt off her back to whomever she calls a friend.
Well, Illitor, I guess I'll go back to the bookstore now. I have nowhere else to go right now. Sitting here in my isolated loneliness of this house is getting me nowhere. Perhaps I'll take him up on his offer--he lives right above the bookstore anyway.
Goodnight, Illitor. Thank you for listening to me. Inikye is already in bed right now.
Love, Amanda
Chapter Five: Nights of the Cellist's Cry
Brittany awoke in a near panic. For more than a week now she's been filled with this feeling of fear and dread as though someone has been following her, stalking her every move. She feels it when she's on her way to school. She feels it when she's sitting in class, even when she's at practice when there are plenty of people watching casually. Nothing has swayed her from this ominous feeling say for the times she's walked passed the bookstore where that girl is playing her beautiful music. This marks the seventh straight night that her slumber has been interrupted by this feeling. Never can she recall it from memory, but the fear of knowing it will happen again is always at the forefront of her mind.
Little sleep has she been able to get since that day she saw that imposing figure under the bleachers. She's heard that song over and over in her head and every time it festers more and more into the very depths of her heart.
Brittany looked out her window, still clinging to the sheets draped over her body. The rain from the night before has not let up one bit. She held her sheet over her nearly-naked form as if some pervert were still watching her. In a trance she watched to rain fall and splash in the puddles. Her eyes wandered and shifted from one to the other, just watching Nature crying for something unknown but to herself. Brittany continued to watch since she was too afraid to go back to sleep. Even now, in the hold of the dark of night and in the midst of a heavy down-pour, she felt those faceless eyes upon her.
"Come on, Brittany," she said to herself aloud, "get a hold of yourself. You just saw no one is out there. No one is following you, no one is stalking you." Even her own encouragement brought little solace.
The next thing Brittany knew was her alarm clock blaring it's annoying tune. The creators of this devise did their job well when they designed it to blast it's owner out of bed. Somehow, Brittany managed to reach the button and turn it off, even as curled and tied in her bedsheets as she is. She looked around the room to find the curtains closed and her blanket neatly folded on the foot of her bed; not at all how she remembered leaving it. "This is really starting to scare me," she said to herself.
"Brittney honey," her mom said through the door. "Are you getting up this morning?"
"Yeah, mom," she answered trying to be her usual morning self. "I'll be right down."
Her mother took her leave wondering why she's been sounding more tired every morning this week. Brittany failed to mention anything further about the cello-playing girl since last week. Brittany's mom resigned herself to thinking that her nerves are just on high alert for the upcoming tournament this weekend. As she sat down with her coffee and bagel, Brittany came running into the dining room with her over-sized gear bag in tow.
"Sorry mom," she announced quickly, "I can't stay. I totally forgot about the team meeting this morning. I've got ten minutes to get there." She grabbed an untoasted bagel and a small carton of juice and was off like a shot. Her mother sat back thinking that her suspicions were just justified.
"You're late!" Coach Wilson said as Brittany made her entrance to the team's meeting room.
"Sorry coach," she said taking a seat, looking down the whole time.
"I know you don't have a good excuse so I won't ask you to come up with a bad one. Back to business. Brittany you do have a ride to this event right?"
"Yes sir," she said feeling herself getting composed. "My mom said she can me and maybe about two or three others if needs-be."
"Good," the coach said hearing Brittany regaining herself. "I don't think we'll need that but you never know."
Coach Wilson went over everything from this past week's practice. Most of it was the usual stuff for the veterans, but the JV and new kids were writing everything down. He made his assessments as he saw this week and passed out the line-ups so far. Brittany, Brian and the rest of the varsity starters knew this could easily change at the last minute, but used it as a stepping stone for who to push harder on. "Alright everyone," the coach said after an hour of his unrelenting speech, "get your P.T. gear on and meet me out on the track."
Brittany was accompanied in the girl's locker room by the only two other girls on the team, both of which were just barely on the JV squad. As she was changing into her workout clothes, she couldn't help but overhear their conversation. Most players, and media, in the area have a lot of respect for her, but these two made that opinion look like an insult. They spoke so highly of her that she began to blush. Kayla was the only one that has ever had that ability before. She listened to them go on and on about how much they look up to her. That's when it hit her: it's because of her that female participation in this sport in the area has skyrocketed.
"Are you two done?" she asked in her captain's voice.
"Yes ma'am," they said in unison. They stood there as if waiting for her to give the order, or permission, to do as the coach said. Brittany could only smile inwardly at this.
"Come on then," she said in a more polite and invitational tone.
She led the two of the newbies out to the track where they began to put themselves through the hell of X-Ball physical training. First to come was a warm-up lap around the track which was followed by some furious amount of stretching. The JV and newer varsity members were wondering what was going on. Brittany knew that these new players were going to be hating life by the time today was over. Just like what Coach Wilson said in the meeting, both teams will be running concurrent practices and will be trading lines in the tournaments this year, as allowed by the new rule this year. That's when it dawned on them, they will be having some very tough practices throughout the year.
Coach Wilson and one of the other coaches split them into two randomly picked groups. One will start with running the football bleachers, which stood nearly fifteen rows higher than the X-Ball team's, while the other would be doing the three mile burnout. Those in the burnout group had to run three miles and at each marker placed on the track had to alternate between ten push-ups and fifteen sit-ups. The other group had to run up and down each aisle of the stands from one end to the other three times. Brittany remembered she was among the ones puking after the first mile her first year on the varsity squad. The two other girls had a look of horror while Brittany was looking forward to it. This only raised her even higher in their estimates.
Just as she predicted, almost all of those on the JV squad and the newer varsity players were heaving their breakfast before they had to switch workouts. Brian, Curtis, herself and a couple of the others on the varsity team were winded a bit, but felt pumped about switching it up. Those who had problems with the one they just completed looked at their next obstacle with utter disgust.
"Hey!" Brian called out to his teams in his captain's voice, "suck it up. I don't know about you but I'd like to take home another state and national title again this year. That goes for you JV guys too. You guys absolutely sucked ass last year. You need this almost more than I do."
After that, the coaches took their groups to switch up the workouts. Some of those now running the burnout track were about to pass out from muscle failure. Brittany could only smile as she watched them lying on the ground completely out of breath and exhausted.
Brittany just finished her last aisle and realized that she didn't see that vision or felt at all uneasy. All of this working out and exercise completely kept her mind from betraying her ambition. She smiled broadly at the thought of knowing the bane of her fears.
The coached let the teams get their breath and some water and Gatorade in their systems before heading off to the weight room. With sweat shining off of her face and body, she saw one of the two girls approaching her with a questioning look on her face.
"Hey Brit?" she asked nervously and a bit winded
"What's up?" Brittany answered in a polite, calm voice.
"How do you do it?" she asked like a student. "I mean some of the more experienced guys are puking their guts up and you barely broke a sweat."
"I've been playing this game, this format, since I was ten years old," she answered with an adoring smile. "My father and brother both played on Pro teams and got me hooked into their training regiments. That's where I learned how to play like I do. Almost thirty hours a week of training had working out for the last seven years or so, and here I am now." Brittany felt even more comfortable with herself than when she stood atop the bleachers. She had a true fan standing before her asking how to improve her game, she couldn't ask for better.
"Wow," she said in astonishment. "Do you think you can help me out some?"
Brittany heard a bit of flirtation in her question. "What's your name anyway?"
"I'm sorry. My name's Ashley Sanders and I'm on the JV squad. That's my big sister, Tina, that plays with you guys on the varsity lines."
Brittany took her hand into hers and shook it with a hearty movement. "Nice to meet you Ashley." Brittany pulled her in close to whisper into her ear, "Don't make your flirting so obvious next time."
She winked at her and went off to join the other captains for a little get-together meeting. Ashley on the other hand could only stare at her hand. Ashley just thought to herself, "she really talked to me and caught me flirting!"
The workout in the weight room was about like normal. Everyone trading off machines or dumbbells. Some worked their abs, others worked on their arms and legs. Brittany made it a point to get as much of her overall workout done within her hour. Fortunately, all of their classes were excused for the day since they had a tournament in three days, just like all of the other sports teams, so they really had all day to work on whatever the coaches felt they needed most.
The coaches let them dry the sweat from their faces before calling them to another meeting. Coach Wilson and his assistants have been working hard to keep the school's expense of the team to a minimum and for the ten years he's been there they've done that well. Everyone took their original seats from before, for reasons known not even by them.
"Before we get started with this one," Coach Wilson started with a gleam in his eye, "I just want to say that this group of people he have on this team are going to rock this area this year. With this being Brian's and Curtis's last year on the team and Brittany's being next year, I just want to say thanks for all the hard work you three put into this team and school. Our new jerseys will be in sometime this afternoon, by the way.
"Now, and this is for the JV kids, we have been sponsored by Angel Sports and ViewLoader for a long time and they have loved working with us. With that in mind I got you all new gun set-ups this year. I've already placed the order and they should be in by tomorrow. Once again Redz International has agreed to give us our barrels, gear bags, packs, pants, gloves and tank covers as well as pay for our travel to the events and the school will pick up our miscellaneous expenses. Several of our other corporate sponsors are still with us and they've agreed to put us in their advertisements this year. In fact I just got off the phone with Nissan this morning and the corporate executives are flying us to Japan to meet them in two months. We will be shooting Draxxus paint again this year. And in a last bit of sponsor news, I don't want to get anyone's hopes up, but if both teams have a podium finish this weekend, the school and the rest of our sponsors will pay our way to World Cup in October where we will play Division 1."
The entire team couldn't believe their ears. Brittany knew of most of their sponsorship deals they have, but she didn't expect to have an all expense paid way to Orlando and play in the biggest tournament in the world. She didn't expect her team to do poorly, but she has been surprised before. The JV team suddenly felt some kind of pressure building up inside their hearts as they knew the varsity team will play their game well, but if their team didn't hold up their end of the deal then they won't get their trip.
"Hey coach," Ashley said raising her hand amongst the gleeful excitement.
"What is it Ashley?" Coach Wilson asked a bit annoyed for some reason.
"That condition applies to both teams?"
"I thought I made that vividly clear," he said more forcefully than needed. "That means that the varsity and JV teams need to step their game up by this weekend."
Ashley felt her heart drop in disbelief. This was her first tournament on the team, as she was only a freshman, and she was having trouble with her simplest of game mechanics.
"Don't worry about it too much," her sister's voice came from behind her. "Brittany just told me that we can go over to her house tonight and go over some things. O.K.?"
"Awesome!" Ashley said louder than expected. Her face lit up instantly. Her role model, or rather her goddess, invited her to her house for some additional training.
"Alright settle down," Coach Wilson said over the crowd. "Now, it's about eleven or so, so I'll dismiss you for lunch for then next hour. Be back here ready to go no later than five-after-twelve."
Brittany and the rest of her crew always made it a habit of eating together all week before a tournament. All of the starting line sat together to go over team business or just bond as a team. In Brittany's three years of being on the varsity team, she has never felt a "team connection" than with the people she played with last Saturday when she began feeling those eyes.
"Those eyes," Brittany thought, her face changing completely, "why now are they starting to look at me. I haven't felt them watching me all day 'til now. Why? Why do i feel like someone's watching me all the time. I don't think it's Kayla. No. I doubt she would even know how to begin to stalk someone. Then who? That weird girl from my street, or that 'ghost' from inside that old white house... though come to think of it I haven't heard it's music for a few days..."
"Hey Brit, you O.K.?" Curtis said waving his hand in front of her blank eyes.
"Yeah, just thinking about stuff," she answered looking down at her food.
"Still thinking about Kayla?" Brian asked in a brotherly tone.
"No," Brittany answered harshly. "I don't even want to think of that bitch and what she put me through." as soon as she said that, she knew she shouldn't have.
"And that would be what?" Brian asked taking a bite of his food, with a curious expression across his face. "From where I stand you two seemed to be happy with each other the entire time you were together."
"Yes, we seemed to be, but I wasn't."Brittany felt her anger getting the better of her.
"Well, to change the subject entirely, what do you think of the JV kids?" Curtis knew that Brittany hated talking about herself to much anyone else, especially when she's angry.
"From what I've been seeing all week they're not that bad," Brian said as-a-matter-of-factly. "We'll see how they've progressed this afternoon."
"Yeah this is gonna be fun," Curtis said smiling from ear-to-ear. "This will be their first experience in the Re-Ball facility."
"And those rubber balls hurt like a bitch," Brittany said smiling an evil smile, knowing damn sure those guys barely made it through the punishment of the varsity's workout.
"Can I talk to you?" a familiar voice asked softly in Brittany's ear. Brian, Curtis and the rest of the group stopped what they were doing immediately.
"No, Kayla, you cannot," Brittany said in an even tone. Without even looking over at her she continued. "I think we've said all that needs to be said to each other."
"What now you're too good to talk to me or something?" Kayla said trying to sound threatening.
"Hey!" Curtis said standing up next to her, his voice demanding and harsh. "Did you not hear what she just said? Get the fuck out of here before we have a real problem on your hands."
"Who was talking to your scrawny ass?" Kayla said trying to stare him down. "I'm trying to talk to my girlfriend and you..."
"Ex-girlfriend," Brittany interrupted. "You told me last week to fuck off and that you hated me. So why don't you take this time to fuck off yourself. NOW! GET LOST!"
Kayla starting backing up, the whole time keeping her eyes fixed in the entourage before her. All of them were standing in front of Brittany by this point, daring her to make a move. Without realizing it, she walked right into someone behind her. The impact caused her to spill the remnants of her lunch right down her back. While Brittany's group starting laughing at her like the bitch she is, she person she bumped into started issuing apologies.
"I don't need your fucking sympathy," Kayla yelled the unsuspecting girl behind her. She was off like a shot. She never looked back.
"You O.K., Ashley?" Brittany said offering her a hand-up.
"Yeah," she said confused and a bit hurt by that bitch's outburst. "What the hell is her problem?"
"That was my ex-girlfriend and she's pissed that I broke up with her," Brittany answered honestly. "You sure you're O.K.?"
"I'm fine Brittany," she said looking down. "Thanks. I'll see you back at the field." With that, Ashley took off down the hall heading towards the locker rooms.
"Oh shit!" Brian said causing Brittany to jump. "We've gotta get going ourselves!"
Brittany and her entourage arrived at the coach's office without a second to spare.
"Glad you all can make it on time for once today," he said in his usual coach tone. "Greg, Thomas, Frank, why don't you all wait for them outside. But before you go, try these on." Coach Wilson tossed their well designed jerseys at them. Seeing that they fit, those who were no longer invited to stay took their leave immediately.
"Listen, Brain, Curtis and Brittany, you three will be my line captains again this year, but this time I will not play together on the same lines. I want you to get together sometime tonight and go over who you want on your starting lines. Between the three of you, you've got twelve other people on the varsity team and I'm allowed to roster as many JV kids as I want up to twenty if you want to make it your specific lines and not switch out players. As you know, the rules for the pit areas have been changed this year so we can get away with having more people. I trust you three well enough to make the right choices."
"Coach," Brittany said looking him in the eye. "I'm having a small get-together for some of the guys to get an extra bit of practice. We'll talk there and get our choices to you tomorrow. Is that cool?"
"That'll work for me," he said with a smile. He knew he made the right decision picking her from the middle school league. "But for right now just pick a line and go with that for the rest of the day."
The teams gathered at the practice field so they could try their new jerseys on. They were well designed with the school's mascot in the center and the sponsors' logos all over the place. They are well padded in the chest, shoulders and elbows and fit about a size too large when compared to average clothing. The JV team looked at each other with pride since the school really didn't spend the team's money on their equipment and this was a very expensive jersey. The coaches passed out the rest of the team's new year's equipment since they are required by contract to use the most current gear possible. In fact, most of the guys on the team paid for their parts in the team by selling off their old stuff to the JV team and other local teams in the area.
"Alright take those jerseys off and get your guns ready to go. We're going to run a new snap-shooting and laning drill."
The coaches went over what was expected of the team and what the goals were for this exercise. Right after they completed that drill using their reusable re-balls, they went right to work getting some more sprint drills while holding their guns. This was one of the few drills the JV team seemed good at. The varsity kids took to coaching each other and the JV team after their turn was up.
They moved on to their individual position drills. Each coach took their respective back, mid, front and insert players for closer training. Brittany couldn't help but notice how Ashley kept leering at her every chance she got or how she sudden;y want to play the insert position. This brought a smile to her face. "Wow this kid worships the ground to walk on!" she thought to herself.
They stayed in their groups for the next hour or so before running through the game plans for this weekend. They ran through the break-outs and their primary and secondary bumps each person was to make and when they were to make it. Brian and the other captains knew from last year that one of their biggest, if only, problem was their players getting shot out on the break or trying to fill in spots that they needed.
Practice ended with nearly everyone about to collapse. This was the first all-day practice for the JV kids and the first one for the varsity team since their summer "Hell Week". The coaches passed out the mandatory permission slips for the parents, most of whom would be in the pits anyway. Brittany told those who she invited earlier when to be at her house as they were packing their gear away to be washed. She, Brian, Curtis and Frank walked out to their cars as the only ones with any energy it seemed. The four of them were looking forward to their practice session at Brittany's house as they always did--her mom makes them her signature cookies every time!
As Brittany drove away from the school she once again could feel herself starting to tense up again from those faceless eyes. Her fear of her deepest emotions, she thought, was playing tricks on her. That must be it, she kept telling herself. She has never been hurt in a relationship before so this must be her heart's way of telling her how much of a fool she really was for staying so long together. Brittany being Brittany had to argue the logic of that point as she drove.
Feeling completely compelled to stop and go to the bookstore, hoping for the off chance that girl was playing there today, she pulled into the downtown parking lot and started walking. She wasn't ten steps away from her car when she heard that beautiful music bellowing out over the evening silence. Her feet seemed to move at their own pace and in their own direction. She seemed to dance with herself to the music as she neared it's source.
When Brittany arrived at the front of the store, she found a solitary girl sitting on a small stool with her eyes closed like always, playing this beautiful instrument. Her head swayed back and forth with the tempo in which the music played out. Even though Brittany knew this was the psycho from her neighborhood who seems to talk to herself, she couldn't help but admire her playing abilities. She played, Brittany listened. Her fingers moved majestically over the strings.
Brittany thought she had been watching for hours, when in reality it was only fifteen minutes. This girl continued to play, but Brittany went inside to talk to the manager, or owner, or whoever ran the place to find out more about her. Once again she felt those eyes watching her. 'They weren't there a few minutes ago, were they?' Brittany thought to herself. She looked back over her shoulder to see her still playing like she has been.
"Can I help you?" a voice came from out of nowhere, scaring her a little.
"Yes," Brittany feeling color once again returning to her cheeks. "Can I speak to the manager or owner of this place?"
"I am he. My name is Roger Yoast." he said smiling. He wasn't a really big man nor was he as nerdy as Brittany would have imagined the owner to be. He had some manner of build to him, but nothing impressive or overwhelming. He was pleasant and courteous when he spoke, "What can I do for you?"
"I want to know more about the girl playing the cello. It's just so beautiful I want to know more about her."
"Why don't we step into my office for a minute?" he pointed her towards to door behind the counter and led the way.
"What exactly would you like to know about her?" he asked offering Brittany a seat.
"I want to know her name, where she comes from, who taught her... I guess everything," Brittany could feel herself giggling at her school-girl tone her voice carried. She was nervous, but wanted the truth.
"Well, let me start off by asking you how old you are." His voice was point blank. His hands folded in front of his chest as he reclined in his chair.
"I'm sixteen," Brittany answered confused by his demeanor.
"I don't know how a sixteen year old in this day and age would know of my girl's playing ability. I'm still confused as to why you want to know. Are you writing a paper or something?"
"I'm not as stupid as I look," Brittany answered angrily. "I was brought up on classical music and I'm a big fan of a band called the String Metal Septet. so I know a good musician when I hear one. Don't you dare start making bias premonitions just because I happen to resemble a dumb bimbo."
"Of course you're not," he said smiling. "I'm sorry if I offended you, but I've been getting a lot of people who keep asking about her. No she doesn't have any music labels or anything and she doesn't do autographs." His chuckling at his lame joke didn't sit too well Brittany.
"I'm not offended, mister," Brittany said after taking a deep breath. "I don't know exactly why, but I feel compelled to get to know her."
"I know the feeling trust me," he said avoiding eye contact. "She is quite a hard girl to get to know. It took me nearly three months. Then again, why don't you ask her yourself? She'll be through with her set in about another ten, fifteen minutes. She plays short sets on weekdays."
"I'm asking you because I'm afraid to ask her myself," Brittany openly admitted. "I can't wait that long since I have to be home in about twenty minutes anyway. Can you at least tell me her name?"
"Her name is Amanda Sanders," he said evenly. Brittany's eyes widened more than double when the shock of that name came to her.
"Does she have any brothers of sisters?" she asked quickly
"No, from what I understand all of her family was killed by her father in a multiple murder suicide. He tried to kill her too from what I understand but obviously he didn't. I found her literally on my doorstep here at the store nearly three months ago, just playing her cello like she is now. At first I thought of her as another vagrant but every time I tried to get her to leave, she would come back. I still don't know why, but she's drawing people into my store so I let her stay."
"Oh my God," Brittany said looking into her lap in disbelief. "That's terrible."
"I know and trust me getting that much out of her took a long time, especially since she doesn't talk."
That last part hit Brittany like a ton of bricks. She felt her heart begin to sink into the dark recesses of her soul. It wasn't pity nor was it sorrow that made her feel this way. No, something unseen by eyes, only felt by the heart and soul, could make this emotion run so deep. "Are you O.K. there?"
"Sorry, I've gotta go now," Brittany said as her face began to turn a pale white. "Can we discuss this sometime later?"
"Why not?" he said warmly. "I feel I can trust you. You be sure to get some rest tonight."
Brittany had no further word for the man. She got up and left as quickly as her feet would allow her. She wasn't thinking, nor did she notice, that the music had stopped. In her brazen haste to leave the store, she walked right into the who she wanted to know about. The collision sent Brittany to the floor, but Amanda held her ground. Brittany looked into her eyes for the first time in full light. To her horror, those eyes were not the sparkling sapphires she remembers from her half-inebriated, short-lived conversation from last week. Her eyes were completely black. Her pupils were completely hidden within the twin ebony pearls.
Brittany only quickened her pace as she recovered her footing. Amanda tried to stop her to make some sort of apology, but Brittany was out the door before she could make a move. Brittany ran as fast as she could to the comfort of her car. She got in and let the waterworks flow. Never before was she this scared and confused in her life. This girl who had the most lifeless, soul-piercing eyes and who was able to capture her heart and attention so easily... it was all too much.
She arrived home shortly before the rest her team was to arrive. She washed her face and got herself composed for the arrival of her friends. Her mother was busy baking her cookies for her to notice her daughter's troubled state. Brittany made her best efforts not to pay attention to those nagging feelings about what had just happened to her.
Brittany and the rest of her teammates spent the rest of the evening playing on her XBox, working out or going over the game plans all the while eating away at their hostess's mother's cookies. After a while, Brittany's mom even came down to the basement to join in the fun. After a while of hanging out with the team, she finally started getting what drove them to play the game they do. She heard her daughter teach some of the newer, younger players all the basics of the mechanics of holding their markers to demonstrating how to run and dive while shooting. She took some of the JV kids aside for twenty minutes going over what she and the other captains had planned for this weekend.
"Wow," Brittany's mom said after talking to Brian for a while. "It sounds pretty complex, but the way you describe it, it's really not. Well you know I'll be there this weekend."
"That's what Brittany says," he answered smiling. For the years the two of them have been playing together, he's only seen her a handful of times at the events; each time brought a smile to his face knowing that his "baby sister's" mom was watching.
"Alright everyone," Brittany's mom announced later on, "it's past ten and your parents are waiting for you outside. Be safe getting home."
Everyone groaned their disapproval, but it still was a school night after all. Brittany got her hugs from her teammates as they left. She noticed that the Sanders sisters held their embraces a bit longer than necessary. Again the look on Ashley's face brought a smile to her own. Her innocent expression and those baby doll eyes. "No... not the eyes..." Brittany kept thinking as she heard everyone leaving. Those eyes, so listless and fearful kept their attack on her heart as she tried to push them away from her mind's eye.
"Brittany are you O.K.?" her mom asked after shutting the door. Her smile quickly faded once she saw her daughter's face turn to that of a ghost. "Honey what's wrong?"
"Sorry mom," she said, snapping out of her delirium. "I've just had a really long day."
"Don't start that shit with me young lady," her mother snapped quickly. "You've been moping around the house a lot lately and quite frankly I'm getting sick and tired of it. Now tell me what's troubling you. Is it Kayla?"
"No mom," she answered taking a seat. "It's not Kayla. I saw something no one should every have to see today." Her mother gave her a confused look. Brittany took a deep breath before continuing.
"All this week I've been having this feeling that someone's been watching me. Following me around town. Then today I went to the bookstore again to see hat girl play her cello. I don't know why, but it always comforts me, the way Kayla used to. I watched for maybe fifteen minutes before I decided to talk to the owner about her. He kinda pissed me off at first, treating me like a dumbass teenager, but once we cut through the crap he told me that she was a witness to her family's genocide. She was supposed to be a part of it, but somehow survived. When he told me her name and that she couldn't talk, I just lost it. I almost puked all over the place. I felt my heart sink and my stomach turn. When I was almost at the door I walked right into her. She was the same one at the party that told me to talk to Kayla about my problems with her. I thought of her as someone who could be a friend, you know? But when I looked at her face, she had no eyes! It looked like she had them cut out of her head, but you still see them there, but you couldn't see them. I've never felt so afraid like that. In fact I think I threw up in my mouth a little as I ran out of there." Brittany felt her eyes begin to water as her mind's eye replayed that dreadful memory of Amanda's face to her.
"It's O.K. honey," her mother said taking her into her arms. "I remember reading something about that in the paper a long time ago, when you were still in grade school. She was to testify against her father, but was found not to be mentally fit to take the stand." Her mother held her for another moment before having a thought. "Don't you think you should go back and apologize tomorrow after school? She did scare you, yes, but at least now the shock factor isn't there and you know what she looks like. I think you can at least do that."
Brittany knows her mother loves her and would only tell her what she needs to hear because she needs to hear it. And with the sound of her voice, she was dead serious about it, too.
"No mom," Brittany answered after calming down a bit. "I don't think I can stand to see her face again. It wasn't just her eyes, but the rest of her scarred face as well. I don't know what she's been through, but it's far beyond what anyone her age should. She looked like Death himself." Her mom didn't want to argue the point any further. She's never seen her daughter act like this, not even at her father's funeral. Instead she just gave her a sympathetic kiss on the forehead.
With that, she gave her mother a hug goodnight and retired herself to a shower and sleep. Even though the shower felt good on her tired muscles and the idea of a warm bed comforted her mind, she knew that she will once again see her face over and over again.
Chapter Six: Diary Entry of a Sane Mad-Girl
August 27, 2154
Dearest Illitor,
Today didn't start off like many others. I awoke to find my face in a cold sweat and my lungs rasping for a foothold in the air around me. I've been having this repeating nightmare about the day Sarah died. I can still see the look on her face. I can still hear that ear-piercing scream bouncing off the walls of that hallway. I can still smell the blood spewing from her body as she fell to the floor. Thinking back on it, I don't think my brain fully grasped the situation as a whole, but then again, at the time I'm not I would have wanted that. All I wanted was to hold and kiss her, even if her life was bleeding out of her. I'm sure she would have wanted that too. At least I can live with the knowledge of knowing her last words, though silenced from the lack of breath in her body, were that she loves me. I saw her lips move in their silent reverence of our feelings for each other. But still, I'm lost in this cruel world without her. Whenever I close my eyes, or see someone who even remotely looks like her, all of those memories come flooding back to me; the good and the bad memories are there to behold.
That reminds me: earlier today that Brittany girl from the high school came to see me play. The look on her face as my fingers danced with Inikye was so serene I could swear Sarah had just appeared. Though I had my eyes closed to focus on the piece I was playing, I could see her standing there through my slightly ajar lids. After a short while she made haste into the store. I could he her talking to my newly found half-brother, but I couldn't make out their exact words. I have a small group of people that come by ever now and again on a regular basis to listen to me play so I had to keep them amused and entertained no matter how grave my curiosity was about their conversation. A brief time went by and I could hear them no more. Once I finished my short set that I play through most of the week, I went inside to look for them and see just what they were in fact talking about. I had just put Inikye inside the closet next to the entrance when Brittany ran right into me. She fumbled around on the floor for a bit then looked right into my lidless eyes. I will never forget the look on her face. It went beyond horror and fear. My eyes, gradually given to me by those loathsome scum at that asylum, pierced into places of her that she would never let anyone enter. My mind went blank for I have seen that look before. My face once wore it when my beloved Sarah bled her life away in my arms. Before I could even begin to apologize for making her fall to the floor, she ran right past me crying. I felt my heart begin to ache for her and her confusion. I, myself, wanted to start crying as I wish these eyes would never again make anyone fearful of me. That raven-haired girl in that instant made we wish I had the courage to end my life and join Sarah in Paradise.
Later that night, after Roger treated me to dinner, he told me that Brittany was trying to dig into my past. Why she would do that, I do not know. Neither do I know why she went to my half-brother instead of coming to me with her questions. She didn't seem to have a problem talking to me at that party. Brittany doesn't strike me as the kind person who will go behind your back just to get information then later approach you in conversation with what they think is a thorough education. But then again, neither did Dr. Jackson. Maybe some day she will once again find some sober courage to ask me myself. Perhaps one day she will not be so fearful of my face, or my body and we will once again find our own tree under which to get to know each other better. I think Sarah would smile upon me for being able to do that. What do you think, Illitor? Only time will tell.
Thank you, Illitor, for always being there for me. You know I do love you like a friend, a brother even. Thank you for listening to my woes. Goodnight old friend.
Love, Amanda