‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ I laugh, very aware of how crazy I’d sound. I gulp down the water. Rye frowns, his eyes running across my frail body, my old clothes, and then consecutively to the park bench, concern and caution causing a lowering in his voice.
‘You’re not involved with something, you know, bad, are you?’
My mind connects the dots; I choke on the water, spitting it out ungraciously.
‘I’m not involved with drugs. Jesus,’ I say, not sure whether to be offended or amused. The gradual increasing presence of cars driving past indicates school drop-off time.
‘I don’t know, okay?’ he mumbles. ‘What am I supposed to think?’
‘Well, not that.’
A couple of school kids walk past, eyeing Rye and me. ‘Rye, you need to go to school. You’re the kind of student that gets noticed if they don’t show up. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I have these food pills…’ My hand pats flat against my empty pockets. They must still be at the ice cottage.
‘Yeah, that’s not happening. The last time you said you were fine, you disappeared for almost six months. We’ll figure this out together this time.’
Six months? It can’t possibly have been that long. Three months at most.
‘Okay,’ I say, conceding but nervous. If Heret-Kau is the one who erased everyone’s memories, what would happen if she found out she missed Rye? I want his support but I also don’t want him involved. I sigh heavily. He’s all I have right now. Rye’s my only connection to getting my old life back.
He leans forward to peek at my face, giving a small tilt of his head to ask if I’m okay. I’m going to have to make a decision. ‘Is there anywhere else we can talk? There are some things you have to know.’
15
The halt of the water leaves an eerie silence in the bathroom. Stepping out of the shower, I grab one of the clean towels Rye has laid out for me neatly on the rack. Wrapping it around my body, I gently avoid the patchy bruises of brown and blue from Marina’s tail. There’s nothing quite like a hot shower to remind me that I’m still alive and breathing, and there’s a little part of me that has to admit that it was for Rye’s sake as well. I don’t doubt my aroma left much to be admired, plus it’s easier to feel human again when you smell like one.
I wipe through the fog on the mirror. It’s the first proper look I’ve had at myself since this whole ordeal started and it shows. My skin is pale and ghostly except for the bags that hang under my eyes like thumbprints of blueish purple. I chuff, amused; I almost look like one of them. My features no longer show the chronic boredom and disinterest that plagued my mundane life, instead now exhibiting a piercing intensity and sporting an inherently untamed stare. Wild, like an animal seeking its next escape, plotting its next move. I know I’m home but why do I still feel on the run?
I clutch the sides of the sink. Small droplets fall from my wet hair onto the silver drain, a muted dripping that thuds in the silence of the bathroom. More importantly, what am I going to tell Rye? I frown, biting my bottom lip anxiously, a habit I’ve had since childhood. He already knows about my hallucinations, if I tell him that I was kidnapped by demons…
I quickly put on the pair of old tracksuit pants and pull my arms through the oversized t-shirt – pants courtesy of Rye’s sister and the shirt from Rye himself. Water quickly soaks through the cloth from my wet hair. Feeling a little awkward in someone else’s clothes, I scuttle out of the bathroom. Radiating warmth from the fireplace washes over me from the other side of the small lounge. It’s been so long since I’ve felt heat that it takes all my will not to run and dive into the fire. Instead, I sit myself down in front of it, letting the heat embrace me to near the point of searing; when it becomes too much, I rotate. Turning round and round like a rotisserie chicken. I freeze once I notice Rye’s endearing smile and make my way over to the couch like an adult.
Framed photos and small porcelain statues collect dust in their untouched spots, scattered about the room. This house is the same as how I remember it from my childhood. It’s a homey sort of house, with wooden walls, patchwork quilts and the smell of lavender-scented candles. It feels like family, even if it isn’t mine. From a young age, Rye and his sister Julia stayed with their grandmother. A necessary arrangement after the passing of their parents in the car accident.
‘Here, take some of this,’ Rye says, handing over a small terracotta bowl. ‘It’s leftovers but it’s still good.’ He’s right. The soup slides down quickly. Why did I ever stop coming over here to hang out? We used to be so close, closer than we are now. Wiping the sides of my mouth, I place the empty bowl in the sink. Rye tries not to stare. I’m sure I look as ravenous as I feel. It’s been a long time since I’ve had real food, I’d almost forgotten that it was something you could enjoy.
‘Explain something. Anything.’ He sighs, collapsing on the worn couch. Following him, my steps slow to buy time. Taking a deep breath, I begin an altered version of the truth. His eyes grow wide, a furrow permanently presenting on his forehead. I grab his arm as it reaches for the phone in his pocket. Shaking my head, I manage to persuade him to release it. The police rocking up is the last thing I need. ‘It was an accident.’
‘How? How can you accidentally kidnap someone?’
‘Well, it was more or less my fault. I’m the one that fell into their…’ I pause for a few moments, stumbling to find a word to replace portal. ‘Car.’
Rye stares at me blankly. ‘You fell into their car?’
I smirk. ‘Well, I’d say it was more of a graceful stumble.’
Rye’s face contorts with irritation. ‘This is serious, Siara. That still doesn’t explain who they were and why no one can remember you.’ Expectant eyes hold my stare, as I desperately search for something to say. I can’t tell him; if I do, I don’t know what might happen to him. He’s the only one that remembers me. I can’t lose him too. Suspicion grows in the lingering silence. ‘Why can’t you tell–’
‘Because I don’t know. I can’t tell you, because I don’t know what happened to me. I don’t know why people can’t remember me. How do you think this feels for me, Rye?’
He flinches, falling silent. Guilt bites at my insides so much so that I can’t meet his gaze. I didn’t want to have to lie. Rye’s eyes soften.
‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ I pause, swallowing hard, not quite sure how to act. I nod slightly in acknowledgement. ‘It makes sense that they would wipe your memory too if they were going to let you go. What matters is it’s over now.’ The moment falls to silence in the midst of the ticking clock. He exhales a long breath. ‘More than anything, I’m just glad you’re alive.’
Rye gives a small shuddering movement as if to shake off the seriousness of the moment. He rises from the couch and begins rummaging through the linen cupboard. ‘Gran won’t be back till Sunday – she’s visiting Julia interstate. In the meantime, we can try and think of a plan. You can stay here and then when she gets back, I’ll talk to her. I’ll set up the couch.’
Despite the feeling of unrest, I give a small complacent nod.
For the next few days, Rye explores different theories and conspiracies, eventually deciding on secret government agencies and at one point even suggesting aliens to which I quickly steered him away from. Otherworldly beings were just a little too close for comfort.
Tonight as I lay on Rye’s bed, my mind refuses to rest. I don’t know what I would have done if he had forgotten me. My parents’ distant eyes flash in my mind. They seemed happy. How long until Rye forgets about me too? Us, being here together, is a band-aid fix, and not a solution. It’s too late to run away now. The voice that came from my mouth before I passed out in the underwater world was not my own. That spirit that was being pulled out of me by the soul snatcher was not my own. There’s something in me and the more I think about it, the more I believe it could be connected to the creatures I see. If I can get it out, maybe I can finally be done with all the appointments, finally be me. I quietly creep over to the door, opening it slightly. My eyes slide over to the shadowed figure on the couch in the lounge, his chest rising and falling in the dark, peacefully, steadily. Something that I would have never thought to take notice of before. Heret-Kau can’t know about his memories, at least, not until I find a way for him to regain them.
Closing the door again, I sneak over to the cupboard. I pull out his favourite sports bag from its depths, stuff it full of whatever useful clothes I can find and slip back into bed to gain just a few more hours of sleep. Just before the break of dawn, I slip silently out of the sheets and give a final glance at Rye, mouthing an apology in his direction. The cold street bites at the skin beneath my clothes, the uneasiness giving way to a small but exhilarating sense of freedom. It almost feels like home.
‘Back so soon?’ a voice calls, causing me to turn in the empty field.
From the early morning mist, the two demons emerge like ghosts. William’s eyes glow an icy blue and Xander’s a vibrant green; a terrifying sight for a regular human, I’m sure. I take in a sharp breath.
‘About my parents…’
‘You want me to restore their memories,’ the ice demon says, surprisingly void of emotion. I’d expected some sort of smug retort as a consequence for running away but he seems just as unphased as ever. Xander, on the other hand, stands aloof by his side. His silence is telling. A pang of guilt begins to rear its head in the pit of my stomach but I push it back down. What Xander must see as betrayal, William I’m sure, expected no less.
‘Yes.’
He shakes his head. ‘I can’t. I’m not the one who took them. I’ll…’ He lets out a long sigh. ‘Get in trouble.’ William looks away, obviously aware of how pathetic it sounded.
‘What if I help you? Willingly this time. No running, no escaping.’
