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Fate-al Attraction: Chapter 2

Last time on Fate-al Attraction:

"What do you want to know?" I asked

 He assessed me, probably wondering if the information he could get from me was reliable. After a minute, he replied,

 "Everything. From the beginning." 

 I closed my eyes and said, "So it all started with Faith's Mom..." as I launched into one of the most painful stories I've ever had to tell.

Chapter 2: 




Faith's Point Of View 

I woke, sweating and panting, the blinding oranges and reds still filling my mind, the flames still licking at my skin. I looked down in confusion, seeing that I was wearing my fleece pyjama pants and my Dad's Mariners sweatshirt. Upon further inspection, I realised I was wearing a plain white tank top. I frowned. I didn't remember changing. Puzzled, I scanned the room, my eyes falling on possessions thrown around, bookshelf empty, and the previous day's events slowly came back to me. When I looked at the doorway, I noticed Garrett standing there, tired and dishevelled, and I knew that he'd only just woken up, and hadn't gotten much sleep. I moved over in the bed, patting the spot next to me, and he rolled his eyes, smiling as he dragged his feet along and flopped onto the mattress. That's what I like most about Garrett; if he was happy, he showed it; if he was angry he showed it; if, like today, he felt like shit, he showed it.

"Hey Gazz?" I asked softly.

"Hmm?" he replied, not opening his eyes.

"What happened?" At this, his eyelids flickered, and his gaze suddenly focused on my face.

"You tell me, Loca," he drawled, his Texan accent becoming more pronounced the more tired he was. I cocked my head in a silent question. 

He sighed.

"Well, I'd just left the store, and was headed home, when I got the call from Macho-Man Shawn, that something had gone down, and that you weren't doing so well," his expression morphed into worry, "Speaking of which, how are you? Your scream woke me up, it must have been pretty bad this time," his eyes searched mine. 

I dropped my head. "I screamed?" I whispered.

Garrett sat up, put his finger under my chin and lifted my face.

"What happened?" he echoed my earlier enquiry. 

"Same old, same old...Only a hundred times worse," I mumbled.

Ever since that night, I'd had nightmares about things; burning things; screaming things; things that laughed as flesh burnt and lives were crushed. They got worse when I was under pressure. Which, I guess last night, could count as a tid bit more than stress; more like full-out depression. 

He stayed silent, letting me know that the ball was in my court. The stillness was almost worse than if he'd been demanding for me to tell him. So I caved.

"I dreamt the suffocation of the smoke again...I kept hearing her screams...His laughter....it was worse than what I told you," And suddenly we weren't talking about the dream anymore. Garrett's calm silence was replaced with one of alarm. 

"What do you mean, 'worse than what you told me?'" he asked, his voice low and and urgent. 

"You know how he "scratched" me?" He tensed at the reminder of that monster even touching me,let alone attempting to slit my wrists. 

"Yes?" he growled tightly. 

"He didn't do it, I did." Garrett's eyes snapped to mine, and they were shouting "What?! Why?!" Then they showed disappointment and betrayal; hurt that I was going to try and take my life; leave him alone. 

"No, it's not like that," I amended, "I had to do it. It was when M-mom was alive. Barely concious, but still breathing. He-" I stopped, drawing a shaky breath, before continuing. "He had her by the hair, on her knees. Her face was so bloody, and beaten. He told me he wouldn't slit her throat if I did it. He promised. Of course I obeyed him; who wouldn't? He made her watch..." 

Garrett stroked my hair, and gripped my hand tightly, giving me strength. 

"Mom was screaming, kicking, using the last of her strength to get to me, but he just kept hitting her and spitting in her face. There was blood everywhere...You know the rest." My voice was gradually getting quieter and more vacant. 

"Oh Faith..." 

I pressed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut against the oncoming torrent of tears. 

"Hon, why didn't you tell me?" 

I shrugged and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, turning away from him. 

"It didn't seem like it mattered before..."

I couldn't see his face, but I could tell that he was gaping. I was proved right when he spluttered, "You- It- didn't- what?! Of course it matters Fay! You should've told the police! You should've told me..." his voice was laced with hurt at the last bit, and guilt flared in my chest. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I looked back at him, and saw the tears shining in his eyes. Mine must've held the same expression because he wrapped his arms around me again, without a second thought. 

"It's okay," he murmured into my hair. "It's over now."

My breath hitched, and my words came out slightly strangled.

"But it's not... He's still out there Gazz...And he knows I'm scared of him...Absolutely terrified..."

His hold tightened around me and he growled, "The police will find him. He'll be behind bars before you know it. Besides, I'll rip him to shreds if he comes within 200 miles of you."

I tried a smile, but it must've looked more like a grimace because his face softened and, looking me in the eye, he whispered, "I promise.." 

Looking down, I nodded, then took a deep breath and stretched my lips into a smile that felt like it didn't belong on my face. Garrett watched me as I stood up and headed for the bedroom door.

"So, what do you want to eat?" I asked him.

He studied my face before answering.

"Whatever you're eating is good for me." 

I was about to reply with, "Well then, is 'Nothing' okay?" but the stern look in his eyes made me rethink and say, "Um, is bacon and eggs alright?" 




Garrett's POV

My jaw dropped as Halle Berry stalked towards me, the leather of her catwoman costume gleaming under the spotlight. I gulped as she dragged the whip along behind her and her raven coloured eyes bore into my own. Her lips parted...

A bloodcurdling howl ripped through the air. 

I looked at her in confusion. Why was she screaming? 

"No! Please, don't!" My chest felt as though it'd been stamped on. The raw pain that was laced into this girl's voice chilled me to the bone. 

Then I noticed that Halle's lips weren't moving, despite the fact that someone was still calling out, pleading. 

It hit me like a ton of bricks; I wasn't dreaming this voice...

The wail broke through the concious part of my brain, and I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I scrambled off the sofa and hurried over to Faith's room. My heart twisted as I watched her, writhing around on the bed, her face contorted with agony.

She shot up, awake, but I knew her mind was in a different time; a different place. I waited, giving her the time she needed, and after a minute or two, the glassy, vacant expression disappeared from her eyes. 

She spotted me standing there, and patted the space beside her. I smiled and strolled over, flopping down next to her when I reached the bed. I melted into the mattress, the hand of sleep just within my reach.

"Hey Gazz?" 

"Hmm?"

"What happened?" 

Resigned, I opened my eyes, accepting that my chance of resting was lost. 

"You tell me, Loca."

I could see she was confused, so proceeded to tell her about my call from Shawn the previous night. A new wave of worry flooded me. 

"Speaking of which, how are you? Your scream woke me up. It must've been pretty bad this time." 

Ashamed, she dropped her head. "I screamed?" 

I lifted her face. 

"What happened?" I asked. 

My heart shattered again and again, with every word she spoke. I hated that she'd gone through so much trauma. Felt so much pain. 

Then she said something I never expected. 

"...it was worse than what I told you." 

Panic filled me. 

"What do you mean, "worse than what you told me"?" I feared the answer. 

"You know how he "scratched" me?" I tensed, and clenched my fists, anger bubbling up inside me. 

"Yes?" I growled, barely keeping my voice level. 

"He didn't do it. I did."

A tumult of emotions cascaded on me. Hurt, Anger. Betrayal.

She hurried to reassure me, but at this point, nothing could appease the raging fire behind my ribcage. However, I managed to push it down a little, and put Faith's needs before my own. I stroked her hair, and held her hand, offering her a comfort that only a best friend could give, as she retold the horrors of that night. 

"Hon, why didn't you tell me?" 

She turned away from me, and mumbled, "It didn't seem like it mattered before."

My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. 

"You- It- didn't- what?! Of course it matters Fay! You should've told the police! You should've told me..." I couldn't help the hurt that was obvious in my voice, and that tears that sprung into eyes. 

She faced me again and I saw that she was crying too. 

I wrapped my arms around her again, and held her close to my chest. 

"It's okay, it's over now," 

My heart constricted as she said that it wasn't. That he was still out there and how he knew she was terrified of him. My protective side came out then, and I held her tighter, spewing threats directed towards the man who ruined her life; who drained the spirit and the hope from an innocent young woman.

"I promise..." I whispered. 

She forced her face into a smile, and got up to go to the bedroom door, asking what I'd like to eat. 

I watched her. Then, already knowing her answer, I said, "Whatever you're eating is good for me," 

She must've seen the firm, cemented look in my eyes, and replied, a little too quickly, "Um, is bacon and eggs alright?"

I sauntered over to her, smiling albeit smugly, and announced, "Yes, Faith. Bacon and eggs will be perfect, thank you."

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