I Am Lily

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 12 (v.1)

Submitted: June 15, 2008

Reads: 163

Comments: 5

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 15, 2008

A A A

A A A

12

“Dylan,” I said. “Dylan, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong.”

He turned his body away, trying to hide his face.

“Dylan.”

“Nothing.” His voice was husky from crying. “Nothing’s wrong, Lily.”

“You think I’m going to believe that? C’mon, it’s OK. Tell me.”

There was silence for awhile. “I had a bad dream,” he whispered.

“What kind of dream?”

“Fire,” he said, his face still shadowed. “Fire, everywhere… Screaming. You, screaming.”

My face paled. “Oh god,” I murmured. I backed away from him, suddenly afraid as if he’d jump up and set me on fire again, the way he had – to my father – so long ago.

He finally turned to face me. His eyes were bright, glowing almost like emeralds in the darkness. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so very sorry.”

It was Saturday, so we decided to go somewhere together. Dylan was unusually quiet during the whole trip on the train, and he kept throwing sad glances to me, as though he knew something I didn’t. I tried to ignore the strange feeling that welled up in my stomach, as well as the urge to throw everything down and cry. I spent most of the time fingering the necklace around my neck, or staring out the window.

“So,” began Dylan awkwardly. “How are things between you and Brian?”

Oh dear. “Fine,” I managed.

“I see.” Some more silence.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He smiled for the first time that day. “The beach, of course. Our place.”

Our place. I tried mouthing the word and smiled. How beautiful it felt and sounded in my head – like a secret password or a whispered word of love. Our place.

Then I got an idea. “How about we go see my dad’s grave?” I suggested. “I want to go see it properly, now that I…know what happened.”

Dylan’s face visibly darkened. He looked at me, then looked away. “All right,” he said tonelessly. “If that’s what you want.”

It scared me a little, the way his expression seemed to change. I peered at him timidly, but I couldn’t see the look on his face properly. He looked pretty angry, though. No – very angry.

The train stopped just outside of Foletown and we got out. Dylan led me through the calm neighborhood until we got to that same place, where my father’s grave was. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stared down at the same words.

Nathaniel Reed Duerre

February 27th, 1959 – April 15th, 2007

Died in a fire, here at a house on this hill

People of Foletown wish him rest and peace.

I chanced a slight glance at Dylan and was surprised to find him white and shaking, eyes silently closed, as if in a desperate prayer. He was murmuring something, and I edged a bit closer to hear.

“…I’m sorry, Mr. Duerre… And I’m sorry to…for having to… I wish I didn’t… I’m sorry… Really sorry…”

I felt tears running down my face. He can’t be a murderer, not this beautiful, pure angelic person. He’s the nicest, kindest person in the world. Dylan can’t be a murderer. No matter what Brian says, what the stupid nurses in the hospital and the computer screen says, no matter what the migraines in my head keeps saying, Dylan can’t be a murderer. I don’t know what it is that makes me feel so sure all of a sudden, but I know without a doubt. Dylan loves me. He can’t have killed my father.

I gently put my arms around him and he opened his eyes. He looked at me, and I saw how they were full of tears once again.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” he said.

“I know,” I answered, not knowing at all what I was meant. “I know, I know.”

He slowly brought his hands up and held my arms, and we stood there, silent and crying, loving.

But at the train station the angel turned into a demon. I thought Dylan was going mad at first, when he suddenly turned his eyes on me the moment we were at the station – they were almost gleaming red and frighteningly full of malice.

“D-Dylan?” I said, unsure.

“Get away from me!” he yelled, and people nearby looked at us curiously.

“Another pair of fighting lovebirds,” I heard a woman remark fondly as she passed.

“W-what?” I asked.

“Go away, Lily!” Dylan shouted. “Go away and don’t ever come near me again!”

My mouth fell open. “What the hell are you talking about?” I could feel the color rising to my cheeks. People were staring.

He stepped close to me until we were almost nose to nose. There was the fire burning in his eyes, the exact same fire I always saw in my dreams…but behind that there was something else, some other emotion I couldn’t quite understand. But before I could look closely he stepped away slightly and snapped the necklace around his neck away. The Lily-necklace. Our charm.

Dylan dangled the golden chain before my eyes, the half blossom dancing like a lantern. His eyes glinted maliciously.

“It’s over. I don’t want to see you,” he said, in almost a whisper so no one else could hear. “If you come near me, I will kill you like I killed your father. Do you hear me? It’s over.”

Then he threw the necklace into a wastebasket.

I burst into sobs, the tears blinding me. I felt so stupid, so dumb.

“Fine!” I screamed at him when I could trust myself to speak again. My voice was passionate with rage. I could hardly see through the blur, but it looked like he was running away, perhaps laughing. “FINE! I hate you, Dylan Williams – I never did love you! You’re a murderer, a killer, a LIAR! And you’re right – it’s OVER!” And I ripped away my necklace and threw it as hard as I could, right into the wastebasket where I heard it clang against the gold chain of its mate.


© Copyright 2018 Aryanne. All rights reserved.

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