Guardians(5)
“I know but sometimes there are clues in stories. In songs…”
“And even if it was, I’m sure Lucy would have destroyed the Amulet along with Demetri,” I protest.
“I just thought…”
“What?”
“I don’t know,” he admits sadly.
“We have traveled to far-off villages looking for accent elixirs that would help and we found nothing. We sought out powerful Paras in Daraquin, we even went to an eye doctor,” I pled.
He looks up at me, and even in Difi, he was in better sprits. I sit on his lap and look into his eyes. Even the thought of getting to kiss him causes my heart to leap. He leans in and presses his soft lips against mine. Blood rushes to my face. A familiar, delicious spark zooms down my spine. I kiss his bottom lip and go in hungrily for more.
Suddenly he breaks off the connection.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a book I read last week—where is it?” He practically throws me off of him and rummages around in the stack of books.
“Marcus, enough,” I beg.
“Wait, there’s just one more thing I need to look up—”
“Enough.”
“No. I’m close to—”
“I SAID ENOUGH!” I take the book in his hand and hurl it across the room.
He looks at me, puzzled.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Emmy—”
“NO. I have sat here for weeks watching you tear the world apart looking for hope where there isn’t any. You cannot save me. I am going to die.”
“You aren’t going to die”
“I know this is difficult. I know it hurts you. But it’s my death and you’re leaving me with no room to grieve. Every second of the day I have to think about putting up a brave face for you. I’m tired. I’m so tired.”
“Emmy, I—”
“Stop holding on to hope, or clues or fables.”
“Then what the hell else am I suppose to hold on to?”
“Me.”
“You don’t want me to hold you. You want me to say goodbye to you.”
“You were going to have to leave me anyway.”
“That is not the same thing,” he protests.
“Why not?”
“When we go into the Light, you’re still supposed to be alive. You can still have a life after us. After me.”
“After you? You think there’s something “after” us?”
“The point is we were supposed to come here, get the map and let you go on with your life. You aren’t supposed to die.”
“Neither was Reese or Sara or my mother. But they did. They died and I will, too. Nothing you do is going to change that.”
“Why are you so okay with dying? What is so wrong with your life?”
“I’m not okay with dying, but I am also not okay with spending the time I have left scouring old books.”
“What if there is something here that can help you?”
“What if there isn’t?”
“I won’t accept that.”
“You have to be realistic.”
“You want me to tell you that I am okay with you dying; I’m okay with being the one who ends your life.”
“Marcus, I’m begging you. Please, give me this one thing: accept the situation.”
There’s desperation so deep in my voice, it goes through my soul like ripples in a pond.
“Emmy, you could dive to the ocean floor and barely reach the depths of how much I love you. I would give you all my lifetimes, my wings, my soul. But please, don’t ask me to accept this.”
He pulls me close and whispers in my ear, words a First Guardian should never say:
“I’m not strong enough…”
CHAPTER TWO: FIREWORKS
It is weeks later and still, we are no closer to finding a way to save me. I wanted to suggest we have a Thanksgiving meal together, but I don’t. Marcus is in no mood for a get-together. So the month of November passes in a blur of tension and false hope, just like the month before it.
We are now in the second week of December. I’m in my apartment getting ready for the final days of school. For most students it’s the final days before winter break. For me, it’s just the final days.
Almost everything in the apartment reminds me of my mom, that’s why I spend most of my time at the Guardian’s house. My Uncle Max wanted me to come stay with him and his family but I said no. Not only would Marcus not let me out of his sight, I felt like leaving the apartment was somehow like leaving my mom. That’s why no matter how long I stay away, I always come back home.
Uncle Max wasn’t okay with me staying here alone. I had to get Jay to Convince him that I was fine. My uncle isn’t the only one concerned. Ben’s mom brings me food all the time. Unlike my mom, she’s a great cook. But no matter how amazing the meals are, I tend to take only a few bites. Knowing you are going to die does something to your appetite.