Originem

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Biblically Dark

Chapter 8 (v.1) - Chapter Eight

Submitted: August 10, 2018

Reads: 96

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Submitted: August 10, 2018

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"For drunkards and gluttons become poor, and drowsiness clothes them in rags." 

Proverbs 23:21

 

Medio Terrarum 

Amare was shocked. She felt as if she jumped head first into an ice bath. Her whole body was chilled, and she was forced to stand frozen to the spot until the painful icicles melted away from their invisible hiding places. 

When she could finally move her limbs, Amare took in her surroundings. She was standing in a small bathroom in front of a pearly white sink. To her left, a small glass shower was squeezed into the corner. To her right, a locked door. 

Looking in the mirror above the sink, she realized her arms were raised above her head, frozen in mid-motion. A bobby pin in between her thumb and index finger was pushed halfway into her blonde bun. 

Wait... blonde?

Amare's jaw dropped, and her previously hovering arms fell to her sides. She was a completely different person. The white blonde hair she stared at now had replaced her pitch black strands. Her figure was slimmer that it used to be. The facial structure was all wrong. Amare leaned in closer to the mirror, her fingers gripping the edges of the sink. Her eyes were pulsating strangely, switching from red to brown before remaining the latter color. 

"Okay," she choked out loud. It was the only thing she could think to say. Her voice was now higher, but the person seemed to be older than Amare. Perhaps seventeen or eighteen. 

A sudden banging on the door caused Amare to startle out of her trance. 

"Cara!" the voice outside called. It sounded like it came from an older woman. "Cara, what's taking so long?" 

Cara? Amare was so confused. Her mouth wouldn't form words. 

The door rattled again, "Don't you ignore me young lady. You may be grown up, but you're still living under my roof." 

"Uh- eh..." Amare stumbled. She looked at herself once more and pushed the bobby pin the rest of the way into her hair. "Em- sorry!" She had to yell over the rattling of the door. She quickly unlocked in and pulled it opne. 

An older woman most likely in her late forties stood outside the door, her hands on her hips. Her hair was also bonde, but it was streaked with strands of light brown and gray. 

"Amruth has been waiting downstairs for ten minutes now," the woman scolded. 

Amare stared dumbly, failing to understand what the lady was telling her. 

"Is that how you're going to greet him? With your mouth hanging open like a fish?"

Amare quickly snapped her mouth shut. The woman shook her head. "Manners," she grunted as she turned away. "Kids don't know what the word means these days." 

Amare swallowed before following the lady to a flight of stairs that led to the ground floor. They were normal in the fact that they were straight: they did not twist or curve fancily. 

A young man was waiting at the foot of the dark wood steps. He smiled when he saw Amare... or was she Cara? He was dressed in black dress pants and a gray button down. His hair was pitch black like Amare's used to be. He was slightly on the heavier side, but his broad figure standing so upright was able to pull it off. 

This man looked her up and down as she made her way down the stairs before remarking, "You look beautiful." 

Amare looked down at her new self. She was adorned in a pale blue dress that ended between her hips and her knees. It hugged her small figure. The short sleeves exposed her shoulders and the high collar ended at the base of her small neck. Once again, she was mesmerized by herself. Never had she seen clothes with color before. 

A loud "E-hem!" from the same woman that had now reached the bottom of the staircase made Amare look up again. "Oh- uh... thanks." 

The woman rolled her eyes, but the man didn't seem to mind. He just smiled up at her admiringly. It was the same smile Gabriel used to give her. 

Amare made the rest of her way down the stairs, smiling. This is what the hole in the flames had promised. Someone to love her. 

"Are you ready to go?" the man asked. Now that Amare thought of it, the woman had called him 'Amruth.' 

Amare nodded, still beaming. 

Amruth turned to the woman. "I'll try not to bring her home to late, Mrs. Harper." 

"Oh, Amruth," this 'Mrs. Harper' smiled, "You've been in the family long enough to have my trust." 

Amruth smiled back before draping an arm over Amare's shoulder and guiding her towards the front door. He opened it for her, and they both stepped out into the cool night air. 

"Be good," Mrs. Harper called out, most likely aimed at Amare. Neither of the two turned back to acknowledge the remark. Amare was living in this man's warmth, and she allowed him to guide her down the driveway to his car. 


© Copyright 2019 P.J. Bomre. All rights reserved.

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