Turqiol

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

A runaway Assassin collides with a troubled girl as he escapes The Organization. For what they thought was chance that they had met grew into a deeper connection as their relationship took a twist. He never showed his face and she refused let him see the scars that marred her body. Together they find the courage to fight back as well as face their own fears that have been covered up for years.

My name is Ellylon Chammzick and there is not much special about me to ponder on. I moved to Montreal city a year ago to finish my GED and start postsecondary education. I have a small apartment on the top floor and the view is amazing in the mornings. You can see the sunlight gleaming overtop the buildings as the birds sing of its arrival. In a way it reminds me of home. Everything seemed normal for once in my life and I began to enjoy how unadventurous and quiet it had become…until I met him.

At the time he was just a man in the shadows. He had saved my life one cold rainy night and after that something stirred within me. He wore strange clothes and always hid his face behind a long cloak like hood. I cannot even tell you what his name was or how old. Just a ghost that would visit me from time to time, even visiting me in my apartment, how he managed to get up to my patio marveled me. If it was anybody else they would have thought him, inhuman. Or even a monster. But not to me, to me he was different from the rest and I seemed drawn to that.

We would talk sometimes all night on many subjects. He seems new to the modern world’s ways which surprised me at first, but I know how it felt to be in a strange place and not knowing how to take it all in. I was willing to show him everything, but there was one problem…he didn’t venture out into the daylight. He won’t even show who he is behind the hood…he says he doesn’t want to frighten me away.

It was not long until I got to know him. His thoroughness, patient, and gentleness. As the months passed by we continued our relationship and each time we saw each other it grew deeper and deeper. I remember chatting with him one night and I had a very busy day previously and fell asleep beside him. The ghost was indeed a human man. He has a firm chest and muscular arms that strangely provided me with a sense of security. Even his skin felt smooth against my touch. Finally I gained enough courage to reach inside his dark hood and feel his face. We were both awkward about it, but after a while it was very pleasant.

I know what you are thinking. That this is just a fairy tale of, “Beauty and the Beast” and he is actually a psycho serial killer, who is just preying on helpless naïve girls, but you are wrong. I cannot explain nor make it seem logical, but when we first touched I felt a spark and I was instantly warmed by his touch. Never have I felt like this about anyone before. Besides, if he had wanted to kill me, why would he have not done it by now? Why would he wait four months to strike now? If anything he is just as scared and curious of these feelings as I am.

After some time I knew when he was close, I could feel him nearby. I did not see him most of the time, but I could sense he was near and every time I glanced around I would see him standing off to the side or just climbing over my balcony. I guess you could call them my, “spidey senses” or a “fifth sense” it makes no difference to me. It just was and I was beginning to get comfortable with his drop byes and the occasional flower on my table in the mornings when he could not stay.

And then the day came when he was no more. The ghost soon vanished away like the splendid beauty of an aurora at night. I arrived home to a note and a flower. He left me. Where did he go? What was I supposed to do now? When will he return, if he will? The questions formed in my mind so quickly I couldn’t even think properly. My chest ached and I had no idea why. I have never felt this way before about anyone and the emotions were starting to scare me. It feels like the entire world was at ease while I suffered through with mine as it goes drastically wrong.

 His note did not make any sense, “Look behind the mirror and you will see”. See? See what? The only mirror I have inside my place is in the bathroom. A light went off in my head and I darted in its direction. Behind it was a small detailed note. He stated that he is being watched and he did not want anyone finding out about me. About us. The feeling in my chest uplifted as I read his words over and over again. Us? I cannot lie and say that it did not put a bright smile on my face.

Somehow, I guess it really didn’t matter whether or not he stayed or left, they still found me. Just an average day coming back with groceries to find my apartment torn apart with another note pinned to the wall by one of my forks. It was a warning and a reward offer. I was so startled and curious by the threat. Who were these people and what kind of trouble was my ghost man in? All I knew was that I was in danger if I stayed here any longer.

The next three hours I spent in the bathroom. My bags full of clothing and a few close belongings, which were placed on my broken bed. Scissors in hand, hair in the sink, I proceeded with a make shift disguise. I hardly recognized myself in the mirror which filled me with pride at my handy work. I contemplated leaving a small note of my new location, but guessing by the thugs looking for him, he will find me on his own. I hope he is alright.

A few months had passed by and there was still no sign of the ghost or those people who destroyed my place. I had moved across the city into a smaller apartment near a c-train. The noise didn’t bother me and it was a least likely place to be found. Or so I hope. It was a soundless night and I was working on my essay. That’s when I felt a presence. His presence. It was one of those kinds of surprises that left me speechless. As I was turning around there he was standing. He whispered my name, before collapsing against me with exhaustion and I clung to him. A deep gash was bleeding heavily on his side, soaking my clothes. My ghost…he came back to me.


Submitted: September 03, 2015

© Copyright 2022 Kandra. All rights reserved.

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