*Estelle*
It’s frustrating, not being the person you want.
I walked along with the rest of the group, touring a university I had thought about attending. I was only half-listening to the presentation, paying more attention to the conversations of others as we’d pass by.
I knew that inside of me was a powerful, confident woman. When I was stuck in all the halfway houses or foster homes I was raised in, I would imagine myself that way. But now I was eighteen and out on my own. In theory, there should have been nothing holding me back.
But I’d never been so filled with anxiety and self-doubt. Did I even want to go to college? I’d always thought that I did. But this was the third university I’d toured, and it just doesn’t feel right.
For one thing, it was too boisterous and crowded for me. It made me feel like I was in a cage.
In addition to the unease of the crowds, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was imminent danger around, that something was lurking nearby and just waiting for the chance to chew me up and spit me out.
I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid, but the feeling only got worse.
I swore there was a man trailing after us on the tour. He had shaggy dark hair and glared at me every time I glanced his way. I stayed close to the rest of the people and tried not to look at him. He invoked a feeling of terror that I couldn’t shake. If I were more confident, I would have confronted him, or at least drawn attention to him. But I wasn’t the confident woman I imagined myself to be.
It was frustrating.
And I knew that he had bad intentions.
For as long as I could remember, I’d always had a strong ability to sense danger. I tried to dismiss it as just intuition when I was young, but lately, I’d had to admit to myself that it was more than that. It was like there was another being inside of me–maybe another half of me is more accurate.
There was a presence there that spoke to me–not in words, really, but I understood it just the same.
Sometimes I think it means I’m crazy, but the presence has never led me astray before. It’s always guided me away from danger and kept me fed and warm. That’s far more than many kids in the system can say.
I relied on it, trusted it.
And right then, it was telling me to stay on my toes, so I was.
When the campus tour was over, I took a rideshare back to my hotel. I saw the man on the sidewalk as the car pulled away. His hateful expression sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t wait to be far away from him.
The place I was staying at was a cheap hotel, in a strange city, but it was the best I could do. My flight home wasn’t until 8:00 am, and I couldn’t spend all night just waiting around the airport.
The presence within me was practically howling in displeasure. I kept seeing the strange man’s face everywhere, and I started to wonder if he was real, or if it was my imagination.
After my eighteenth birthday, something bizarre happened to me. It confirmed everything I ever feared about myself. It proved that I’m either insane… or not human.
I’d had a vivid dream that I was running wild through the forest. I could smell the pine sap and moss all around me. I could see the silvery light of the full moon reflecting off of the rain-damp foliage. I could feel the leaves beneath my feet. It was so incredibly real.
I wasn’t human in the dream. I was a wolf. The feeling of contentment was indescribable. I ran through the forest and felt the dew beneath my paws and smelled a thousand scents. It was pure bliss.
Until I woke up the next morning, naked in my room.
I shook the memory from my mind. I was far too tired to be thinking so seriously now. When I got out of the car, I looked around me cautiously. There was no sign of the stranger.
I let out a breath of relief.
It had been a long day, and I was hungry. I considered ordering room service, but I didn’t want to sit in my room all night alone. I’d had enough of that kind of solitude. I decided to get something at the hotel restaurant; that wasn’t very adventurous, but it was a start.
Once again, I found myself in a crowd. I could barely raise my voice loud enough for the waitress to hear me as I ordered my pasta. I was curled in on myself, toying nervously with my napkin, as I waited for my food to arrive.
The sense of danger was back… and it was stronger. I was too scared to look around the restaurant for a source.
But that’s not what had me feeling so exposed.
I could smell something strange. At first, I thought it was an expensive cologne, the scent of citrus and cedarwood hitting me in waves, giving me a heady, almost drunk feeling.
What’s more, the presence inside me, the same one that warned me of danger, was reacting to it in a way I couldn’t understand. I felt strange, almost giddy. It was incredibly uncomfortable and for a moment, I wondered if someone had spiked my drink.
I stood up a little shakily and made my way to the bathroom, telling myself I’d be fine if I just tossed some water on my face. I pushed the bathroom door open and hurried to the sink, relieved that it seemed pretty clean. I turned the water on and splashed it over my face, letting the cool sensation bring my focus back to me.
Suddenly, I was yanked backward. I spun around, a shout sticking in my throat and making me choke.
It was the man from the campus.
I pushed at him, but it was useless. He was insanely strong. He clamped one hand around my throat and stared at me with that cold, hateful expression. I pulled and clawed at his arms, but he didn’t flinch. He lifted his arm and my feet left the ground, increasing the pressure on my
throat and leaving me flailing uselessly in the air.
Just as I was certain I was about to be killed, the door swung open and I watched over his shoulder as another man entered the lady’s room. It must have been the lack of oxygen that made him appear to be moving in slow motion.
His hair was windswept and dark with a white streak near his right temple, and his eyes were brilliant blue. He was stunning–what a stupid thought to have at a moment like that. His eyes flashed silver as he stalked toward me. There was unadulterated rage etched into every line of his attractive face.
My heart thundered in my chest.
He snarled as he grabbed the side of my attacker's head and whirled him around. The man dropped me, and I fell to my knees. The blue eyed man landed a series of lightning fast, brutal blows to my attacker that left him staggering against the door to the bathroom stall.
Then he turned to me.
There was distaste in his eyes as he looked down at me, crumpled and cowering on the bathroom floor. I wanted to cry, but I still hadn’t caught my breath.
He parted his lips, flashing unnaturally sharp teeth at me. His voice was like a distant roll of thunder. It was the deepest voice I’d ever heard and it took me a moment to process his words.
“If you don’t want to die, you’re going to have to trust me.”
I wanted to argue, but my attacker was struggling upright. I scrambled to my feet and stumbled towards the door. The blue eyed man growled in irritation and turned to deal with the stranger.
I rushed out into the hall. I don’t know why I didn’t run into the bar and scream for help.
Apparently, I was the kind of person who dies in the opening scene of a horror movie.
I ran down the hall and crashed through an emergency exit, emerging on the street. I was prepared to abandon all of my belongings just to get away. I thought that I’d just go to the airport and wait for my plane. No one would try anything in an airport, and I could leave this whole mess behind me.
There was a commotion and shouting coming from behind me, but I didn’t dare look. My inner voice was screaming at me to turn back. I kept seeing flashes of silver and red behind my eyes. The low growl in my head was disorienting–it wanted me to go back to the blue-eyed man. It was trying to assure me that I could trust him. I was too confused and afraid to listen.
I just focused on my fear. I let it fill up my chest and choke me. Maybe I was trying to argue with myself.
I didn’t see it coming when I was struck from the side. Before I could hit the ground, there was an arm around my waist and I was being lifted from the sidewalk. I screamed as loud as I could, and I was vaguely aware that people were stopping and staring.
I needed help. I didn’t know what was happening. I tried to vocalize these thoughts, but all that came out was the repeated phrase: “Why me?”
Then there was a rumble of thunder beside me and I was wrenched away from my attacker's grip. The hands that pulled me free were warm and instantly stilled the panic in my chest. Despite myself, I clung to those strong arms. I couldn’t see him, but I knew it was the blue-eyed man. I let the inside voice win, and I nuzzled against his chest and cried.
His hold was stiff but strong. He was speaking over my head, but I couldn’t understand a word.
There was so much shouting and sirens were filling the air. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I heard heavy boots rapidly moving away from us.
He was leaving.
One warm, strong hand took my chin forcefully and lifted my head. I looked into those impossibly dark, blue eyes and tried to calm my tears. I had never felt so pathetic.
His expression was disdainful as he regarded me. “You’re coming with me,” he said coldly. “Clearly, you can’t protect yourself.”
I wanted to rail against that statement. I’d done a damn good job protecting myself up to this point. But I just stared mutely. I didn’t know what was happening. This had to be a nightmare. There was danger in this man’s face, but he hadn’t hurt me… not yet.
That shaggy-haired stranger had stalked me all the way from campus. I would be a fool to think he wouldn’t be back. I didn’t know why he was after me, but this man seemed to understand. If I was alone, I was going to die.
“Follow me,” he ordered.
He released me and walked away. I hesitated, just for a moment, but I needed to decide quickly if I didn’t want to lose him in the increasing crowd.
The sirens were getting closer. The sense of danger was still buzzing beneath my skin. I was afraid of this man, but right at that moment, I was more afraid of being alone.
“Hurry up,” he called over his shoulder.
I ran after him.