Tied Together

 

I know I am dreaming. The room I'm currently in is foreign to me, the brown leather chair that sits in a room of emptiness, positioned in front of a blank screen. The leather is worn, torn on the arms, I fancy that if it could feel it would be tired of this.

The projector clicks on, the screen comes to life. I know what will be playing, how could I not? The reason I am here is to see. I watch as it plays my life, the first time I met Savan, the wish and the curse. I flinch at my mistakes, I applaud at my accomplishments, I cry at my losses.

Each life I see different Darren's, the arrogant one, the prideful one, the hopeful, the fool, the desperate and the failure. I watch as I walk like an empty shell through all the years, only to awake when I see her, only to be kicked back down.

I watch as I lose her. Each time more painful than the last. The cycle is unbreakable, so what do I do? Do I fight? Do I accept it and watch as the woman who holds my heart, even after so many years, dies in my arms? Does Denia find joy in killing her over and over again? It was me, my fault and I alone should be punished.

The projector starts to skip, rewinding on her smiling face. A day in summer when we had picnicked in a field of daisies, the happiest I felt in a long time. The flowers were in bloom, their fragrance basked the entire field and I knew she was happy. Her long golden hair shimmering in the sunlight, her blue eyes alight with joy, flushed from the heat and, dare I hope, from being in love.

I close my eyes and I remember. Her smiling face leans in, our kiss is like a thousand fireworks going off at the same time, electric. I hear the projector skip again. Loathe to be pulled from my memory, I open my eyes with a snap, only to wish I had ignored the projector.

Is it you, Denia? Is this your work? Are you invading my dreams now?

The movie of my life spins uncontrollably, quickly playing out the mundane, filtering out the happy and showing only the worst parts. I try to turn my head, close my eyes from watching this horrible display but I find I can't, by will or magic my eyes are glued to the screen. I watch, I watch in horror as she dies again and again.

My death curdling scream echoes in the room, what else was there for me to do? I am pinned, my voice the only thing that can leave this tragic room.

"Darren!"

Farion, how did you get in here?

I hear him call me over and over, the projector going black. Then, as quickly as that, my eyes snap open and I'm back in my apartment. Farion is stooped over me, his brown eyes wide, I feel his hands gripping my shoulders and I know he had shaken me.

"What is it?"

Those my tone was curt, I silently thank him for delivering me from my nightmares.

"You screamed, I didn't- I didn't know what to think! I just, thank God you're ok."

I push him off me, sitting up I cringe at myself. The clothing I had worn yesterday were still on, dark blue jeans with a baby blue t-shirt, now caked in sweat and droplets of blood.

"Are you ok?"

I nod, "I am, I am. I'm sorry to have worried you, I had a bad dream."

Running my hand through my hair, I take a deep breath and push off the bed.

"Darren, wait, I wanted to talk about yesterday."

He follows me as I pick out new jeans, a t-shirt and fresh boxers. This can't be avoided with a mere "it was a bad day", or "it'll be ok." No, he wouldn't let it drop after my behavior.

"I, I know how yesterday seemed, Farion. Just honor my wish to not do dealings with that woman."

My added emphasis on that was caught by him, I can only imagine what he thinks now. My old fling come back to light the flame again, or a crazy stalker who couldn't get over our non-mutual affections.

"Darren, what happened to your hand? Yesterday, you came into the apartment like a bat outta hell. Like you were being chased."

I hold up my hands to him, "Whoa, I'm not in any kind of trouble like what you're thinking. If you could just believe me that nothing is going on I would appreciate it."

Those thoughtful brown eyes pierce me, I always joked he could look into someone's very soul and read their secrets, their doubts. My body shivers, I can tell he saw that and I turn from him. I rush into the bathroom, lock the door and back away. It’s silly really, my friend of ten years, my business partner, is a man who I fear.

With my hands pressed against the cold porcelain sink, I stare at myself in the mirror. My long black hair stands on end, curling here and there in wild disarray. The black bristles of hair along a strong chin are longer today, unruly. I run my fingers down my beard, along the thickness of my arched eyebrows, admiring the way they feel against my strong hands.

I turn the shower on, the immediate steam from the water makes me relax at once, it fills the room, I inhale its calming essence and step into the shower. Water pellets cascade down my tanned skin, over the well-formed muscles of my stomach, the strong form of my legs. Who can resist the warmth of a shower? It stings my flesh in a welcoming way, I can feel the filth washing away from yesterday.

Stepping from the shower, I dry and pull on my dark black jeans, then the tightfitting black t-shirt. Walking from the bathroom, I grab a quick breakfast and look for Farion, who seems to have left for the office already.

I shrug on a light dark jacket and leave with a final look into my apartment, I feel as if I am leaving sanctuary.

 

Arriving at our office in downtown New York, I smile at the buzzing around me. Everyone working hard to make this company work, various peoples come up and greet me with papers to sign, or a phone call about a prospective contract. I smile, this is what I've worked so hard for.

My office is on the other side of the floor, I can see it now, its windows open and the sun shining through. I enjoy the power I feel when I sit in my black leather chair, feel its arms and reveling in the crackle it gives.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Farion in his own office and he waves at me, to which I nod. He is on the phone, smiling, one of my best friend and workers here, he brings in the most contracts and sees them through with a bloodthirsty determination.

Inside my office there is a glass of coffee waiting for me, it makes me chuckle as I know who is behind it. Picking it up, I walk to the open windows and look out into the sea of people and nod to them, when I glance over at Farion, he is standing just like I am with a glass in his hands. Again, I chuckle and raise my glass to him in thanks, he does the same.

The day drags by with nothing too interesting happening. The hour of closing is upon us, several people has already gathered their things and began to close down their desk. I, myself, have begun to wrap up a few loose ends with a few of our contracts, the money they bring in is substantial to say the least.

A knock at my door makes me look up, its Farion and he is talking to someone on his cellphone. He looks grim, to which I assume a deal has gone sour. Waving him in, I offer him a chair and wait patiently.

"Yes, I am sorry about that. It was not a convenient moment then but he is here now, eager to talk to you."

I raise one of my thick eyebrows in question but he waves me off, I smile slightly at his arrogance.

"Of course, come by tomorrow. We will arrange everything then, thank you. You as well."

He hangs up, his smile of smug satisfaction. From the conversation, he must have landed a large company, a very large one indeed.

"Well?" I ask.

"I just closed a deal with the museum in D.C. They want us to ship a few smaller items to them from across the seas."

I clap, "Good job, my friend!"

"They'll be sending over their representative tomorrow. A young lady, so be kind to her."

"What do you mean? I'm always charming with our customers."

He stands to leave, "I mean, to Ms. McAlister."

As if my stomach dropped to the floor, as if my heart leapt up into my mouth, I stilled. Farion had already gone, left me to my own devices. My own office closed in on me, the walls started to spin, the floor seeming to have fallen from under me.

"Unavoidable."

I glance up and cringe.

"Unavoidable, my dear."

Denia sat in the chair Farion had previously used, twirling her long black hair around a slim finger. Her red lips curved in a sultry smile, her voice singing those words over and over again.

"Unavoidable."

Her words float from her mouth in vibrant letters, I can see them before me, spinning around my head. They make me dizzy but when I close my eyes they are plastered on my eyelids. I grip my head, it won't stop, her voice singing that word.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Then, swiftly, it stops.

It’s quiet again, even more than before.

I glance around for her, expecting her to be standing behind me, or waiting across the room for me but she is gone. I inhale deeply, letting it go quickly. The sun is setting once more, the shadows along the wall beg me to go home where it’s safe and I have nothing stopping me. I grab my coat and keys about to leave, when I glance down at my desk, a piece of blue paper I had not seen before laying among the white sheets.

Grabbing it, I read its words.

"Unavoidable."