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Her Guardians Lost(47)

By:Jaimie Roberts


His smile vanished. “I wish I could tell you I was, but that would be a lie. You’re dreaming, Cassie. And we don’t have much time.”

Panicking, I sat up a little. “What do you mean?”

Caressing my face, he smiled. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m taking a risk by coming to you like this.”

He had gone through so much punishment already. I certainly didn’t want him getting into trouble over me. “Then you should go. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

Stephen shook his head with a smile. “I just needed to be here with you. I wanted to hold you, feel you in my arms. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long, I feel my heart will burst if I don’t get to taste those sweet lips of yours.” And then his lips were on mine, calling out to me to open up and take him to new depths. Our love felt eternal, like the creation of life.

I knew this was a dream, but it all felt so real. For me, he was here and nothing could take away this moment. I could feel every caress, every taste of his mouth as he explored mine. His kisses before always felt wonderful, but knowing he was all I ever wanted somehow made the kiss that much more intense. I didn’t think it was possible, but it was.

Suddenly, Stephen pulled away, making me moan at the loss of contact. His head jerked up like he was listening for something, but I couldn’t hear anything.

Facing me, he held my face in his hands. “I have to go, Cassie. Just know that I love you. I always have, Cassie. I…always…have.”

I felt like he was trying to portray something important to me, but I didn’t know what. He stared into my eyes for the longest time. What was he trying to tell me? What was he so desperate for me to know?

“I love you, too, Stephen.”

Caressing my face, he smiled. “That’s all I need to know.”

With a gentle kiss, he began to fade, making me yearn for the return of his touch. How could I be given such a wonderful person, only to have him ripped from me? It didn’t seem fair.

Suddenly, he was gone, leaving behind a static charge next to me. I tried to reach out to it, touch it, hold onto it with all my might. I was frightened that if I let it go, it would be lost forever.



“Come back!” I screamed as I woke up with a jolt.

The jerk of my arms was so violent, my shoulder screamed in protest. “Son of a bitch!” I shouted.

Feeling the pain of my shoulder was welcome. The physical pain would dull the pain in my heart. How could anything feel this bad?

Remember.

“Who are you?” I demanded. She was in my head, berating me, torturing me, plaguing me.

Remember, the voice said again, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I was starting to get angry. Picking up my alarm clock, I hurled it at the wall. “Remember what, goddammit? How can I remember something I don’t even know I’ve forgotten?”

My words sounded confusing, but I was confused. For the first time in my life, I felt real anger. I wanted to know what I didn’t know. I wanted to reach out and grab the one thing that had been hovering above my head, just out of reach. It was taunting me like a carrot on a stick and I was the fucking donkey.

Shit, now I was cursing. I never curse. Who was I turning into? Why was it I felt this growing, burning sensation deep within to just let it rip? Was this the real me? Had I created this timid version of myself because, deep down, I was this caged lion dying to get out? Who was this girl before me? Who was this angel?

So many questions, so many answers I knew were out there somewhere, teasing me to get to the truth. What was the truth?

“Stop being such a pussy, Cassie!”

I gasped. It was my mouth forming the words, but that wasn’t me. It wasn’t me!

It is you!

Banging my head with my hand, I tried getting her to stop, to just shut the hell up. Am I going mad? Did getting shot make me into this crazed person who heard voices and felt things she shouldn’t be feeling?

Shaking my head, I refused to believe that. I refused to acknowledge the possibility that every word I heard from his lips and every touch I felt wasn’t real. Of course it was real because Stephen was real. He was as real as anything could get. Saying otherwise would be like an insult to the memory of him.

I missed him. I yearned for him. My body and soul called out to him. I felt like a moth and Stephen was my flame—my undying, raging flame.

Finally rising from my bed, I bent down to pick up the pieces of my broken alarm clock. Great! Now I needed to buy a new one.

Throwing it in the bin, I focused on getting ready. Baby steps were needed now. If I could just go through the motions of everyday life, I wouldn’t feel like I was tearing apart. First a shower, then get dressed. Then, when I was ready, I shall visit my uncle. Hopefully he would be around his studio today. I needed to be with my family now.