Chapter 8 - Like A Kite String (Faith POV)
HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU READ LOVING ASHLYNN? IS THIS YOUR FIRST TIME?
A/N: NOT THOROUGHLY EDITED.
Chapter 8 – Like A Kite String (Faith POV)
I spend the rest of my day in my room, I take my meds when the pain creeps up on me, and I study, doing homework assignments that were all written out for me by my various instructors.
For the rest of the day I put away the task that Sonya gave me, I reply to Patricia's text when she landed in O'Hare... and I work on all the missed projects, ignoring everything, except the words in the books, the ones I write for my answers. It's quiet in small portions of the time, mere seconds, I can almost forget the wall colors, the desk that's brand-new, and when I blink, I'm back in the safe house.
It doesn't quite scare me; in fact, it just seems to calm me, the familiarity of being on my own, no disturbances, just me and the silence. I pretend for those quick seconds I'm back in the place where I was eager to leave – the solemn silence. The landscape had changed, generally, but in my mind, with this new viewpoint, old mindset and no real frame of reference for what was real and not, I was torn in two.
Craving familiarity for my disposition and longing for experience from Dmitri's aspect, neither of which I was learning was actual reality. Around dinner time, when the sun was going down, and I knew that the house was filled with all the Conrads, and probably more people since I had seen two different cars come up. Hungry, but not enough to go down to sit at the table alone with all the Conrads, I remained in my room pushing my books aside; I laid my head on the table. The lump in my throat so thick I just closed my eyes that now burned with salty tears.
Pushing away, I limp over to the record player pulling out the three new records I purchased, White Ladder, A New Day at Midnight and Draw the Line. All albums of David Gray – ones I had never known existed believing that after 1995 this man and his band had never created music. A punch to the gut, but still in my foul mood, three old but new to me albums were the only thing that could change my sullen state.
After a few songs, there was a soft rapt on my door, then silence. Glancing up, I wait, until the person knocks again. "Oh – uh – darn – Faith, can you knock or maybe make some kind of noise if it's okay for me to come into your room? I want to check your cut and burns and I brought you dinner?" crawling over I turned off the light music, and then just knocked next to the player.
After three or four knocks, Kalenah pushed the door open, leaving it ajar she came with the same tray that Samson had. Going to the bathroom after she set my food down Kalenah came out, "I just wanted to know if you wanted help showering, or washing your hair, it's okay if you need help?" I blinked. She wanted to help me shower?
"You aren't supposed to get your bandages wet, and I know that you probably don't have good access to your arms, you have such thick hair," Kalenah rambled, her hands gesturing in a circular motion in front of her as she looked around the room, then focused on my eyes.
The truth was, I could use some help on my hair, I had washed it and then put the conditioner but with limited range, when I finally stepped out, some parts still had shampoo but I left it as it was.
I was tempted.
Very indeed. Yet I only just shook my head and surprisingly Kalenah nodded, coming forth to check on the burns, change the bandages.
"You're welcomed to join us downstairs... you don't have to lock yourself away, we want you to feel welcomed," she murmured as she checked my foot. "Is there anything we could do to make you feel more welcomed?" I tried keeping my face blank while I wondered if this was a trick. I mean it was – it had to me. Ask me what I need to feel more welcomed and then do the opposite... that's what Dmitri said Loyalists did. You wouldn't know sometimes that you were even with them, that you were mingling with them. They'd offer help, show you kindness but when it was time, before you knew it really, you were indebted and slowly over time you were turned into a Loyalist.
Trapped.
"They do different things Faith, they make you ill and then help you get better, and you feel like you're finally getting a break but the truth is you've become more beholden than anything else." Fear spiked up my back, my right hand shook on my lap, and I gritted my teeth to keep myself calm, under control.
My body went completely ridged and I was counting down to when I could finally be alone again, all while Kalenah continued speaking, "Please don't alienate yourself Faith," the words holding a hint of sadness. Internally I rolled my eyes, of course, she'd be sad.
I wasn't falling for the tricks. Yet there was one thing I did want to know. I couldn't place it and the easiest way to find out was just to ask so finally, I could put it to rest.
Simon's scent. I must have smelt it before; Dmitri must have brought it on something when I was younger. For it to be nagging at me so intently I know that it was just being overwhelmed, that was why I couldn't place it.
Simon was wearing something. I wrote on the dry board when Kalenah stood. She nodded her brows knitted together. What was it? The scent? Kalenah cocked her head to the side, she put a finger, "I'll be right back," she said and left the room, her foot steps silent as she stepped out of the room. My room currently smelled heavily of clean sheets and aloe, the spread Kalenah put on my heavily blistered skin.
When Kalenah came back she had nearly five bottles of various sizes in her hands. "He took a shower in the morning, so I brought what he could've used, so you can see if any of these are what you're talking about?" the words unsure, my eyes danced over the bottles, one was light blue with a dark blue cap, funny shapes, and the words 'Blueberry Smoothie' blue like the other words, but it's highlighted in lemon yellow. Placing each of the bottles on the side table, Kalenah steps back and I slowly reach for each one, sniffing until the last one in my hand is a small bottle, my fingers can wrap right around it, the cap a light blue. Six equally spaced blue holes on top, the bottle itself, thick white, impossible to know what's on the inside.
Johnson's Baby Powder, turning the cap, after reading the instructions that I should keep it away from my face, a little bit of white powder fell into the palm of my right hand. Using one finger I spread it out, but as soon as white powder hit my skin – I had found what Simon smelt strong of. Scanning memories, I had none of Dmitri ever bringing something like this in the house, not once.
Bringing my hand up to my nose, inhaling almost fearfully, I couldn't place the memory of using it, but my eyes watered. Blinking that away, I swallowed and pulled the small bottle away, looking at the ingredients.
Zea Mays Pure Cornstarch
Tricalcium Phosphate
Aloe Barbadensis Leaf
Vitamin E
"Is that one it?" her words startling me, reminding me that she was still in the room, but still trying to place it, I nodded. "Did you have it with you? In your old life?" she asked her words made me blink. My old life? Did she consider this one to be my new life? Because to me, it wasn't so much that I had a new life...
Shaking my head, "Oh well maybe you just remember the ingredients," Kalenah assumed I was speaking about her first question and not the thoughts that followed. I wouldn't correct her, but the truth was, it wasn't just the separate ingredients. When I took this scent off of Simon, it wasn't a piece of it – it was this. Literally the same scent that was locked away in my mind. I could remember things from when I was little, not a newborn of course, but I couldn't place baby powder at all from my early life.
Yet it was strange, it wasn't so much the actual smell but the part of my brain that knew the smell, like I knew how to spell my name. But when I tried to reach the memory, there was a wall, a block, and so I sighed, putting the bottle down with the others.
"Eat up," Kalenah murmured getting the bottles, "I put extra protein powder in your drink since you really do need to get your weight up Faith," I looked down, nodding knowing I had been prepared when shopping. I had gotten just a bit of time away from Patricia and Kalenah. With those free ten minutes, I found some of the old food I was used to eating, things I didn't need to refrigerate that I could hide in my room. One can of vegetarian ham and potato chowder that could last me at least a month if I didn't waste it. And for a real treat, so I wouldn't have to eat in the cafeteria with all those other kids, I bought ten small bottles of chocolate shake to go.
Surprisingly, I found the Vanilla version, so I purchased that and stuffed it into my bag as well. After hiding them, I knew I would eventually have to get more, but I had a small stash, just incase the Conrads were Loyalists after all. I couldn't make sense of everything, but a part of me, while Walsh had confirmed that Dmitri lied about everything, some things were easier to believe than others.
Going outside without bodysuit and masks for example. Those were two things Walsh had shown me the minute he came up to the house. But there were other things; details that I knew Dmitri couldn't have just made up for any reason. It didn't make sense for him to do that. There had to be a reason, more proof was no one was looking for me, not a single person. And while he lied about the body suits and mask, it was hard to stay angry in my heart because Dmitri always came back.
Limping from the bed, I took the tray and placed it on the ground, slowly toeing it all the way to the bathroom with one bottle of my Shake To Go. Dumping the food into the toilet, flushing, I relieved a big sigh, Samson or his twin Samson had made my meal last night, and I didn't get sick, but that didn't mean that it would stay that way.
Surely they wouldn't try to harm me right away or with Patricia still around. Placing the empty dishes back on the tray I filled my chocolate mix with water from a water bottle, shook and placed a straw before slurping it down hungrily. It was a bit bland, but after years of this, I have accustomed to it. Toeing the tray back, I lifted it to the table, before hiding the empty bottle of my shake. Deciding that I would go down later when I knew the house was asleep to make some of my powdered soup, I just had to wait everyone out.
And so I did. Being on top of my medications, the strength wearing me down, I hungrily put one scoop of the chowder in the clean bowl and carried it down the stairs slowly; almost panting by the time I get to the kitchen. Avoiding the stove at all costs, I walk and fill a plastic bowl with just warm, and then microwave it, stopping the machine before it could release sounds. With my weak left hand my balance dependent on the crutches, I pour the water in, using the left overs to make tea, before carrying both individually one at a time, to the large table.
In the darkness, nearly one in the morning, I sit in the shadows, slowly enjoying my food, with a bit of tension, hoping that I can finish before someone else comes down for something. Just as I blow on my steamy soup, the stairs near the table creeks and Samson – or the twin – comes down. A complete rumpled mess, he rubs at his face, and glancing around the room he spots me, but continues before doing a double take.
"Hey Fatima," he whispers, but all I can concentrate on is him calling me Fatima. Obviously, it's my name but by now surely he knew I preferred Faith unless well I was right and this was twin, Samson. "Couldn't sleep? Hungry?" again with the questions, he had to have known, whether it was Samson or the other one, that I couldn't reply. Easier to nod, I do so.
I sip on my tea, placing my gaze on the tabletop giving Samson his privacy so that he can get to whatever he had planned. For a minute, I wondered if he wanted me to leave the room completely since he hadn't moved, but after a few beats, I hear him shuffle to the fridge and open it, the soft hum louder.
The silence is accompanied by the hums of appliances until, no more than five minutes later, Samson comes over sitting adjacent to me, with a glass of what I believe is milk and two slices of pizza. Instantly my mind goes back to my safe house where, pizzas were always a treat when Dmitri could find supplies, the tomatoes to make my sauce from scratch, the cheese, and other toppings. Though I can see the slow curling steam above his food, Samson lifts one, and without so much as giving it a cooling blow he takes a bit, chewing rather quickly. Rolling the food around his mouth, he's waving near his mouth, and breathing strangely until he swallows loudly, reaching for the glass of milk.
From under my lashes, I watch as he closes his eyes, swallowing the milk like his life depended on it, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. Blowing out once he's nearly drunk all his milk, "Wow, so hungry, should've blown it to cool off first," I say nothing.
My thoughts, though? Was he my physic's partner? I don't mean it to sound above him but, certainly he saw the hazy smoke that swayed above his meal indicating that it was just that... hot.
"Have you thought about what we can do for our project? Because I was thinking and this might be over the top but what if we can build something that turns on, or runs something that one of my siblings will be making?" Mr. Doesn't see the obvious in the form of smoke from his pizza was aiming really high I thought privately but hoped that my face was neutral.
The pizza he lifts up towards his mouth hangs in the air as he seems to glance over at my face, "You don't... like that... The idea?" Did he want me to be honest? Was this a trap?
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