A Path Not Cleared

Mother was sitting on the terrace in the garden, the sun hid behind a cloud and I watched the shadows play across the flowers as she gazed in abstraction at their muted colours. I was not surprised she was here for she had never left and everything that had passed, from her death to the claim of family from Gervais, had been nothing more than a bad dream. Her focus upon the flowers was so intent she did not move as I approached and I sat down opposite as flicker of relief eased into my mind. It had been nothing more than illusion, she was here and our home returned to being the haven of my youth, at least until he stood in the doorway.

His outline was crisp with a clarity that almost hurt to view and the backdrop of foliage paled into gray as dusk stirred amongst the blooms. The only green left was the clear pools of his cold eyes and as he sat down beside Mother I tried to object but her cool hand on mine silenced my protests.

“It had to be.” Her voice, devoid of emotion did not comfort as my gaze never left the man sitting across from us. Gervais stared back at me, his limpid eyes chips of clear glass, his handsome face expressionless and I found myself wishing him gone from our garden. I turned to Mother wondering why she did not remove this repellent interloper, her face indistinct in the twilight was impassive as her attention never wavered from the blooms. Only Gervais was defined, his outline etched sharply in the fading light, his eyes, a malevolent green held me in their mesmerizing gaze.

I did not wish to be the garden anymore, it no longer was a place of peaceful repose because of Gervais and his persistent trespassing.

Angry at his presence I accused him, “Why did you kill her?”

“It had to be.” He echoed and I turned to her in distress but she had dissipated with the last of the light, the cool touch upon my hand became the cold metal of the table and I was left alone with the terror of the whims of Gervais.

“Wake up!” Shouted a voice within my mind.

“I am having a nightmare.” I said to the man across the table and his mouth moved into the smile of a basilisk, his motionless poise more a lifeless quality than from serenity.

“It is called your life.” He replied.

Gervais opened his mouth to laugh but the sound that came out was the shatter of broken glass. I rose with the intent of calling Maritka for help but he pulled me back into my seat.

“She can’t help you now.” He snarled in my ear before fading into the night and with his words burning inside me I awoke in a tangle of blankets.

I realised I was living a ridiculous life in a ridiculous world and there was no reason for me to continue with this charade. I decided to pack what I could, leave Maritka in the house and disappear into the world so when I came down to breakfast I had a firm plan in mind. All I had to do was find a way to keep in contact with Braith without Gervais finding out, keep Maritka safe while she kept the house, keep Elyce from shooting Gervais, keep Gervais from destroying those left behind, keep…keep…

The list became endless as I realised if I left, anyone still here would be targets and if Elyce tried anything and failed, which knowing Elyce was bound to happen, then his fury would have no bounds. I sat on the terrace on this my last day and unlike my dream there was no mother to comfort me, my friends were hell bent upon revenge and my lover did not recognise the truth of our reality. I marveled at how the sun could shine, the flowers graceful in the breeze, how such beauty can exist when my world was ending; my inner turmoil was more suited to dark foreboding skies.

The echo of the doorbell had me cringe and I stayed glued to my chair for I was not certain how sane my reaction would be if Gervais had decided to assist me in my packing. Maritka stomped out to answer the door and the murmur of voices gave me relief as I heard the noises of delivery at the back of the house. I wandered out to the kitchen to find Maritka struggling with a large trunk and as I opened my mouth to query the phone rang. The intrusive jangle was no mystery and as my eyes met hers across the room we shared knowledge that only those affected by him have.

I answered the phone with the coldness I reserved for my cousin. Gervais was unaffected, his enthusiasm almost bubbled across the wires.

“Hello dear cousin.” His voice was smooth as oil and I felt the burn of hate in the back of my head.

“What do you want?” I was not about to give him one second out of my last day of freedom. From tomorrow I would be fighting for my life, for his death and I needed this day to steel myself against the future.

“I wanted to know if my gift has arrived?”

He knew it had but Gervais loved to torment under the guise of concern, the guise of friendship, the guise of family. I kept my anger in check determined not to give him anything.

“If you mean the big ugly trunk, yes it arrived.”

My voice tart with strain I did not engage him in battle for that would only whet his appetite for more. Gervais lives for the hatred in my heart, it is the root of his desire, that I hate his power.

“I was hoping it would help you arrange your packing.” He just couldn’t leave it alone, it was not enough I was going to be his prisoner he was going to gloat every moment leading up to my arrival.

He continued, “I am always happy to provide my services if you require any assistance.”

I could not contain the fire exploding behind my eyes and I hung up the phone only to castigate myself two seconds later. He knew if he poked and prodded enough I would hang up and he would have got his fix, that little taste of hate.

Maritka carried the trunk into the foyer and her disgruntled scowl had me assure her that I was not expecting it to be carried upstairs. Before she left me sitting on the stairs staring at the large proffering she started the series of objections which had lately become her only conversation. The bane of my existence had to reveal yet another edge to his control, he would no doubt expect me to arrive with it but I could not be bothered to haul it all over the house. I would throw a few suitcases inside it for despite his intentions I knew my stay at the compound was not going to be a very long one.

I went back out the terrace to watch my last moments of freedom unfold into the glory of a spring day in bloom. Here life was renewing but for me life might as well be ending for if our crazy plan did not end in my demise, then he would ensure it did. I sat alone for Maritka and her disapproval lay upon the air like a smothering blanket and in my despair I could not appease her. She knew the pains Mother went to keep me away from my family but despite her good intent it was inevitable, for Gervais did not require overt knowledge to find me. He merely looked across a room and his blood found mine, there was no, would never be, an escape from someone who believes they own everyone and everything.

Entangled in the confusion of conflicting thoughts the day slipped away from me and before I knew it even the sun had abandoned me to my fate. I could resign myself to a future of being his puppet until his deviance destroys me and I become desperate as Elyce or a pale shadow like Liselle. At first I had made the decision to fight for my life and the lives of those unable or unwilling to confront the evil of Gervais. Now the decision was based upon a far more personal motive, Gervais had a hand in the premature death of my mother, I believed Liselle for she was not engaged enough in the world to bother lying. With a heavy heart I slowly tread up the stairs to pack and with each step I felt the last vestiges of the innocence of a happy life dissolve. I had been outwitted, outdone, outclassed and the only hope I had left was that his arrogance was greater than my fear.

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