When I wake, it takes me a few panicked moments to realize where I am. Sunlight floods in through the window, promising a beautiful fall day as I blink in the light, trying to remember where exactly I am. Memories of the night before begin to flood back and the guilt threatens to engulf me again until I remember Taylor singing, his voice flooding all my senses, calming me down and exciting me all at once. I need to stop thinking like this. I can't. It wouldn't be fair to him.
My watch says it's just after 8 o'clock in the morning. I slept through the night. First time in years.
I slip out of bed and walk over to the two small boxes I use as a dresser. I have collected about four outfits in my time here along with a few other items of clothing. I quickly pick out a pair of leggings, a t-shirt and a cosy zip-up sweater that's almost a size too large, by far my favourite item of clothing. Everything is used so the leggings have a hole in the hem by my right ankle and the t-shirt has a small stain by the shoulder but it's far better than anything I have known before. Somehow, my drunken father didn't put finding me nice clothes at the top of his priorities. Shocker.
I pull a brush through my hair and inspect the final product in a mirror I have on the wall. If we weren't invalids, I would have access to all the technology available to make my hair perfect each day. I watched a woman using hers one day through the salon window when I was around 15. She placed her hand on this small black box and it dried it perfectly in seconds than tucked her hair up into this metal hat. When she took the hat off a few moments later, her hair was perfectly curled and styled. I was so jealous.
Unfortunately, I don't have access to the amazing styling technologies of today's age so my brown hair hangs loose just passed my shoulders, a mix of small curls and frizzy waves. Nothing special. Normal at the best. My eyes were the only thing someone other than my mother has told me is pretty. And they were hers.
I don't think pretty is the right word. More interesting. I remember hers vividly, better than I remember the rest of her combined. I thought they were beautiful, so utterly entrancing. I remember staring into them whenever she spoke, wishing mine would one day look like that.
They were hazel, forever changing colour with the light in the room, going from deep brown to vivid green to almost blue. Right now, mine are light green with flecks of brown circling the iris, dull in colour and shine compared to hers. My father used to tell my mother he had never seen eyes like mine or hers in his life and he could stare into hers forever. Told us that that was the first part of her he fell in love with. I never really thought of mine in that way and after she died, I think they were just a reminder to him.
When I am satisfied that my hair is somewhat tame in its braid, or at least it's as good as it's going to get, I slip into my runners and head out for breakfast, hoping it might be pancakes like last week. It was the first time I have had pancakes since I was maybe six. Taylor laughed at me when I poured basically an entire bottle of syrup on them, his eyes sparkling like they always do when he laughs. I vaguely contemplated pouring the rest on his head at the time. Thought I better not waste it. It's a rare treat.
It's not pancakes, just oatmeal and an apple, our standard breakfast. Still good though. About halfway through eating, Kelsey and Mataus join me and Kels entertains us with the intoxicating story of her weird dreams the night before. I am not really listening. I picture Taylor's eyes staring into mine in the window pane, his song stuck in my head although I don't remember the words. I hear Kels say something about a lion and a warthog and a giant rock.
As I finish up, Taylor walks in and grabs my shoulders from behind, making me jump as a small squeal escapes my lips. Tingles run up my spine. What is happening to me?
"How you feeling this morning?" He asks as he steals the apple off Mataus' plate. A small tousle ensues, ending with Mataus eating his apple with a smirk and Taylor nursing a small bruise forming on his arm.
"I'm okay," I answer quietly, praying beyond anything that he won't take it any further. I don't want the others to know what I told him last night.
"So you ready after breakfast?" He presses, ignoring my discomfort.
"Ready for what?"
"To go." I wonder if he is being deliberately frustrating. His dumb smirk makes me think yes.
"Go where?"
"Take the hint, bro. She doesn't want to go on a date," Mataus smirks. Taylor gives him a small scowl and I seek out Mataus' leg under the table. A small groan escapes his lips but he winks at me and continues eating.
"To go outside," Taylor finally laughs. "Remember? We talked about it last night."
Quickly, it comes flooding back. I am going outside today. See the beautiful world around me. Get some fresh air. Excitement courses through my veins at the prospect. Taylor must see the excitement on my face because he laughs even harder. I do love his laugh.
"Of course I remember. I just wanted to see if you did," I grin at him, feigning superiority.
"Nice recovery," Mataus whispers in my ear. I glare at him to hide my smile and finish eating as fast as I can.
After breakfast, I run up to my room and quickly pack a small bag. I am just deciding whether or not to bring a book when I hear a knock at the door.
"Come in," I yell. Taylor comes in with his backpack and a small sack. "What's in the bag?"
"Lunch and a few snacks. We are going to be gone most of the day." He replies as he tosses the sack to me. I pull out a sandwich, an apple, and some crackers with cheese and shove them in my backpack.
"Ready to go?" I nod, squashing the book down into my backpack at the last moment. Never know when you are going to want a book.
Sooner than I expected, which is saying a lot considering we had to hide in the dark entrance shed for almost half an hour, waiting for what someone in a window upstairs deemed the safest time to leave, we are outside, the sun warm on my skin, rejuvenating me. It's warm for a fall day, well over twenty degrees. Probably one of the last warm days of the season.
We don't talk as we walk, sticking mainly to the shadows as we try to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. Even in the more abandoned parts of town, you are never sure who could be around.
I try to memorize our path but soon get distracted as we head into the town centre, looking at everything around me. Although I snuck out a couple of times when living with my father, I was never brave enough to venture anywhere near other people, mainly sticking to the forest. Here, people are everywhere. Taylor doesn't make us stick to the shadows anymore, we walk right in the thick of it, blending in with others going about their lives. No one pays us a second glance, we are just teenagers walking around.
I have never seen so many people, except on TV, although there probably really isn't that many. Everyone seems to be in such a rush, barely looking at where they are going. Small, electric cars speed by us silently, taking their riders to work or shopping or wherever else they might need to go. Lots of people have their eyes glued to the phone in their hand or their smartbands. How can they rush through life this way? There are so many amazing things around them that they are missing. Only the children seem to pay any attention to the world, staring as they duck in and out of their parents' legs, playing and laughing as they go.
We continue on this way for a while, blending into our surroundings with Taylor skillfully avoiding the busiest areas where police are sure to be. How many times has he been out to have such confidence?
I am completely consumed and enthralled by the normality of the lives of the people around me. Every person we pass, I imagine what their lives are like. The young man and woman, newlyweds here in the small town on a honeymoon. The single mom with a young boy, recently divorced and taking her son out for lunch to help make up for it, though she knows it can't even begin to cover everything he has lost and the hurt he is feeling. The man in the suit, a businessman running late to a meeting, about to make the biggest deal of his career. The two guys walking together, lovers who aren't confident enough to put their love on display yet. Every life is different, amazing, deep. I love thinking about it, about how they are different from me. Then something changes. A girl a few meters in front of us falls to the ground.
The girl can't be more than 14 years old, dressed in rags. She holds her cheek, a look of utter terror on her face. No one around us stops or even seems to notice. They just walk around her, one couple even going to the other side of the street.
What seems to be the source of her panic steps out of the doorway she fell out of and all the pieces fall together. I don't need to imagine her life, I have heard plenty of stories now at the hideout. She is a slave.
A tall woman in expensive clothing towers over her, her face emotionless. She tells the girl to get up and the girl obeys automatically, bowing her head so as not to look the woman in the eyes. My gut clenches, seeing the way she jumps to the command of this woman. I remember watching Taylor do that. I remember doing that myself. In my experience, only two things that create that reaction. Complete and utter respect or years of pain and fear. This is not respect.
"Come on Sera."
Taylor's voice in my ear makes me jump and I realize I have stopped moving. I force myself to look away and keep walking with him. If I draw attention to us now, we will be no better off than that girl.
Taylor and I continue walking for another 15 minutes or so, but the joy in my walk is gone. I can't stop thinking about the girl, the fear in her eyes, the hopelessness portrayed in her posture. I barely even notice where we are until I almost walk into a tree.
"There was nothing we could do for her right now," Taylor voices both our thoughts, now that we are alone in the forest.
"I know," I whisper. "It's just hard to watch, knowing that we are safe and she has to live like that, so close by."
"She probably belongs to a tourist," Taylor mumbles. "Not many around here have slaves, except maybe on some of the farms."
"She shouldn't belong to anyone," I snap.
Taylor doesn't say anything more, appearing to be at a loss for words. I decide a topic change is in order.
"So where are we going anyway?"
Taylor smiles. "It's a surprise."
"I hate surprises."
"I know," Taylor laughs. "You will know soon enough. Exercise some patience for once." He pulls back a branch and the lake comes into view, sparkling in the sunlight. On a small rocky outcrop in front of us, a small boat sits hidden from view of the town by the bushes surrounding it.
"You ready for an adventure?" Taylor grins.
Next thing I know, we are in the small boat, or dingy, as Taylor christened it, riding full speed across the lake. Never in my life have I felt anything like this. The wind whips through my hair, pulling strands out of its braid. Eventually just give up and pull out the elastic, feeling my hair stream out behind me, the air cool on my skin. I feel weightless at the front of the boat, only being brought back down to reality when the water splashes me in the face. I love it and can't keep the smile off my face. When I used to imagine myself away on a sailboat, it never came close to feeling like this.
I can see Taylor watching me out of the corner of my eye, smiling from ear to ear. He is loving this too.
The ride comes to an end sooner than I want it to when Taylor pulls the boat up onto a small, secluded beach, with forest and rock encroaching on both sides.
"Do I get to know where we are going soon?"
"Very soon."
"You are killing me here." I hate feeling out of control and he knows it. I don't want to "exercise patience".
We walk through the forest again for a while and this time I actually pay attention to where we are. Some of the trees here are bigger, growth from before the war with patches of new growth weaving through, as if some areas had been cleared but not others. Taylor seems to stick to the areas of new growth, following it like a path. Rocks break through the soil here and there, smooth from years of erosion.
I start to notice some human influences on the forest too. A wooden post with a yellow number, an old concrete pad with an iron pipe sticking out, a rock wall holding back the earth. But all that leaves my mind as we step onto the beach.
My breath catches in my throat. Never in my life have I seen a place so stunningly beautiful.
In front of us is a white stretch of sand, looking out on the lake. The water sparkles and moves as if alive in the sunshine, aquamarine turning to a deep night sky blue further out. Other shades colour the water in between, creating a quilt of blues and greens that perfectly complement the crystal clear sky above.
A few small rock islands are sprinkled around the bay and the shores around have been coloured by fall, the green of the pines contrasting the reds and yellows of the deciduous trees in a phenomenal expanse of beauty, almost too perfect to be real. On the far side, there is a gap through which I just see open water. Like the ocean. How big is this lake?
A rock cliff, smoothed in spots from the rain and water, sits to our left, the trees atop it forming curved shapes from the constant wind. The cliff slowly slopes down to a point where water meets rock at in a beautiful peninsula. More rocks jut out to our left as well, forming several smaller points that the waves crash over. It's breathtaking.
I can't even begin to express how I feel to Taylor so when I feel his hand slip into mine, I don't pull away. I don't know how long we stand there together, hand in hand, looking at the beauty around us, but I know that I could stare at this view for a lifetime and never tire of it.
Eventually, I have to ask and break the silence. "Where are we, Taylor?"
He looks over at me and smiles. "It used to be a nature park before the war but no one uses it anymore. Thought you'd like it."
Now the weird growth patterns and the posts in the woods make sense together. I imagine this park full of families, camping in tents, singing around a fire, like in the cartoons I watched as a child or in the books I read. Totally oblivious to the horror that was to come. I feel myself longing for days I have never experienced. I want to experience it all.
I take off my shoes, feeling the sun-heated sand beneath my feet as I walk. Suddenly, cold washes over them, the waves pushing the sand up between my toes. I feel almost euphoric, standing there in that wide open expanse of water, feeling more free that I have ever felt in my life. It's incredible.
"Want to see more?" Taylor asks after several long minutes of silence. Not silence. Bliss. I nod, unable to find any words.
He pulls me by the hand towards the rock cliff and up a small path I didn't notice before. We climb over the rocks, making our way up and across the cliffs. As we walk, I stare at the rocks forming the point out from the beach. The windswept pine trees form a striking landscape, so many different levels and shapes, all going in one direction. They remind me of the people in the hideout, gnarled and bent from the force of the hate exerted on them but not broken. They hold on by nothing but a few roots and some soil and learn to stand despite everything working against them. They aren't supposed to grow there, yet somehow they do. It gives me a weird sort of hope for my future. Like it's proof that we just might make it one day. If these trees can survive on a rock cliff, then just maybe we can too.
Soon, we stop and decide to have lunch beneath an old, beautiful tree on the edge of the cliff. I try to focus on eating but can't, my eyes constantly scanning the horizon of the lake and the scenery. Along the rocky outcroppings on the other side of the beach, an island catches my eye. It's not large, maybe five meters in circumference, and entirely rock. Another small rock sits about a meter from it in the lake. It looks like a huge turtle, making me smile. The story of the turtle that started the earth comes to my mind. My father told Marcy and me that story as kids. I push him from my mind.
Taylor pops into my thoughts. "I have another surprise for you if that's okay"
"I'm beginning to like your surprises," I assure him with a smile.
Taylor reaches into his bag and pulls out a small camera. My heart skips a beat and he quickly snaps a picture of me. Then he hands me the camera.
"I like to take pictures and thought you might want to be able to see this place more often." My heart swells with happiness and I can't get words out.
"Thanks.." I stutter, "but I'm not very good at taking pictures."
"That's okay, I can take some and teach you how." Taylor's kindness almost knocks me over. No one has ever given me a gift before, except my parents, and his is perfect. He has given me a way to forever remember this day. I didn't know anyone could be as happy as I am at this very moment.
I launch myself into him, wrapping him in a big hug, trying to express everything I feel in that hug. He is startled at first, knowing I don't like to be touched as a general rule, but he quickly softens and hugs me back.
I feel a flutter in my gut and quickly push him away, laughing as I snap a photo of him on the rocks. I get up and run from him, giggling as I take pictures of him chasing me, laughing too. Eventually, he catches up to me and grabs the camera from my hands. Now I chase him as he takes photo after photo, moving with the light and shadows all while avoiding my grasp. He is obviously very experienced. I wonder briefly how he learned that.
When I finally catch him and try to wrestle the camera out of his grip, he counters by wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me into the air as I kick out and giggle. Eventually, he loses his balance and we both fall onto the blanket laughing. When we catch our breath, Taylor sits up and looks at me, mischief in his eyes.
"Can you swim?" He questions, his eyes gleaming.
"Umm, yeah sort of, why- "
Taylor lifts me into a fireman's carry and runs off towards the cliff, him laughing and me screaming. This is it, this is how I die. I've never been in water deeper than my bathtub.
Suddenly we are airborne, the water rushing up the greet us. I scream louder and grab onto Taylor as tightly as I can.
The water is cold and sends a shock through my system. It surges up my nose and in my ears as I kick upwards looking for the surface and air.
When my head breaks the surface, the first thing I hear is Taylor laughing beside me.
"You are a jerk, Taylor Quince, you know that?" I gurgle as I struggle to keep my head above water.
"I have been told," Taylor chuckles, swimming to me and showing me how to not drown.
The rest of the afternoon passes like a dream. We cliff jump for a little while longer, me relishing the escape of the underwater world each time my head goes under. Afterwards, we lie on the rocks in the sun to dry, eating our snacks and just talking, snapping a few more photos. While Taylor takes a small nap, I explore, snapping pictures here and there, trying to capture the memory of today forever. I even manage to take a few of Taylor sleeping curled up in a ball before he wakes up and chases me all across creation to get the camera and delete them.
We wind up on the other side of the outcrop, out near the point. The rock here slopes more smoothly into the water, a few boulders lining the coast. I run through a patch of woods, and break through to the water's edge. That's when I notice the details on the rock.
Carved into the surface of the bedrock are thousands of drawings, names, and other symbols. They are absolutely everywhere. Some look old, some look older. A lot have a year with them too. A beautifully carved sailboat says 2013. A cartoon mouse in suspenders says 1998. JOHN AND ANDREA 4EVER says 2017. Names all over. I can't stop looking at them. It isn't long before Taylor is doing the same.
"Have you ever seen these before?" I ask in awe.
"No," he shakes his head, "Never."
I walk along the rock, taking in the names and drawings. Some of the symbols and drawings I recognize, most I don't. I see writings in over 20 different languages, from English and French to some I have never seen before. I can't stop thinking about all these people. All these lives that converged on this very rock, days, years, decades apart. It's living history. A book of lives that all came here at some point or another, taking the time to leave their mark on the world.
Where are all these people now? I wonder to myself. The latest date I can find is 2021, a year before the war broke out. If any of them made it through, they are long dead now. But what about their descendants? Do they know a little part of their family's history is carved on a rock in the middle of nowhere?
"Sera, come over here." Taylor's voice pulls me back. I look to where he is standing, about ten feet to my left, below a tree. He is staring at a drawing on the ground.
I study the drawing as I join him. It's simple, but still, I feel my breath catch in my throat. It's a beautiful carving of the windswept trees all around us. No detail needed, just the outline. Parts of it are missing from erosion, lost to the past. But the truly amazing part is beneath it. The earliest date I have seen yet, barely even there anymore. 1961.
Over three centuries ago, someone was so taken by the beauty here that they took time out of their life to carve it into eternity. Over three hundred years ago. Back right after the second world war and the globe had discovered the atrocities the Nazi party had committed. When everyone was afraid of each other and what other countries could achieve. And yet, someone took the time away from all that fear and hurt to carve this beautiful image into the rock. Three hundred years ago.
Something about it makes me feel better, like all those problems I am faced or am facing will soon be forgotten with time. They aren't carved into stone like this drawing, they can be changed, altered, forgotten. It gives me hope.
How long we stand staring at the carving, I don't know. But, as the daylight fades and the sun dips lower in the sky, I sense that our day is coming to an end. But I don't want it to end. This day has been by far the best in my existence and I know I will remember it forever. If only it could last forever.
Taylor and I pack up slowly, savouring the day. As we walk back towards the path down the cliffs, Taylor stops.
"Wait," He pauses, sitting down on the rocks by the edge of the cliff, "there is something I want you to see before we leave."
"Shouldn't we get back before it gets too dark?" I argue, trying not to let the nerves show through. I'm not a huge fan of the dark.
"We can wait a little longer. You really should see the sunset here," Taylor smiles and reaches for my hand. For the second time that day I let him take it, heat flooding from my hand up my arm, and into my face. I welcome the warmth, since the cool wind mixed with my wet hair has given me a slight chill.
We sit there, together, watching the sun go down. He is right. The sunset is astonishing in its beauty. It sets over the trees, red streaking the sky, then growing into a light orange-pink as the sun goes further out, a few clouds dark against the colours. The reflection in the rippling water makes the entire lake appear to be on fire.
I snap some pictures with the camera but eventually chose to put it down and just enjoy the view, committing it to my own memory instead of a digital one. I don't think I'll need help remembering this.
I find myself humming quietly under my breath, letting my internal feelings match the outside environment. It's an incredible experience, watching the sunset on such a perfect day. I can't recall another time in my entire life in which I haven't felt self-conscious or thought about all the problems in my life. But on this rock with this boy, everything seems like it's falling into place.
I find myself playing with my bracelet, thinking about my mother. But I don't feel sad. I feel sort of peaceful.
Taylor looks at me strangely, like he is seeing me for the first time all over again. So I stare right back. The light of the setting sun makes his tanned skin glow, his brown eyes turning to pure gold around the edges. I have never seen anything like it. His eyes rival even the sunset in their beauty, little pools of gold expression mirroring his pure soul. No one would say my eyes are pretty when he is around.
All too soon, the sun dips below the horizon and the colours in the sky begin to fade into darkness. Taylor gets up and I slowly follow, resigning myself to the fact that the day is over. Taylor and I use the last dregs of light to get ourselves down off the rocks before he pulls out a flashlight. As we hike through the old park, I pick up the conversation, questions coming to my mind now that there is nothing to look at.
"So where is this camera from anyway?" I start, trying to find a relatively safe topic as I remember the conversation from the night before.
Taylor seems to shy away a little from the question. "I asked Jacob to get it for me."
"Wait, when?" How could he have the camera today if we had only planned this outing last night?
"About two weeks after you got to the hideout," Taylor confesses. "I just couldn't find the right time to give it to you."
Suddenly, the night didn't feel so cold. Warmth surged through my body, making me feel like I was floating instead of walking. He really does care for me, I think to myself. The thought of someone, anyone, caring for me takes me so by surprise that I forget how to walk for a second and have to use a tree to steady myself.
During the rest of the hike, I am walking on a cloud. An hour before I thought nothing could have made this day better, but in one sentence, Taylor raised it to a whole new level. As we reach the boat, I know I have to say something, so just before Taylor jumps in the boat, I put my hand out to stop him and turn him towards me.
"Thank you," I almost whisper to him. "For today, and everything." I look him directly in the eyes and take his hand in mine, squeezing it lightly.
"You're welcome," He replies, squeezing my hand back in response. I see a look flash through his eyes, like he wants to say more but thought better of it.
We climb in the boat and are soon flying across the water. Although I am still bursting with happiness, the look I saw in Taylor's eyes reminds me of another's eyes and what it signifies, beginning to drag me down from my beautiful cloud. I have seen it before, in my mother's eyes, and even my father's at a few times. And my sisters. And that didn't end well. It has never ended well for any person that has ever looked at me that way. I can't let that happen to Taylor. He needs to know. Maybe if he knew, he wouldn't look at me like that. I should say something, now, while we are alone. But I could be making this all up. Sure, he cares about me like a friend but it is nothing more. I am just being paranoid. Still I should make sure. But I can't. Not after this amazing day.
I push that thought away for the moment. I don't want anything to tarnish this memory so it is a problem for another day. Instead, I focus on the horizon, where the glow from the day is just disappearing behind the trees, taking with it the last of the light from the best day of my life and plunging the boat into darkness.