Capítulo 18: A costly compensation
AVA
Streaks of sunlight happily skipped among the leaves of the surrounding trees while a gentle breeze blew by, blocking and unblocking the shade simultaneously, wherein the parents I had claimed to be mine, had set up a picnic mat under the tree.
A gentle warmth began to settle inside me.
Charlotte, my mother, who had wrapped me in her arms, was swaying gently to her husband's singing.
My father, Kristof, sitting across from us, had a guitar in hand and was playing a song about love.
We were in a park, somewhere close to the house. It was Saturday, and they had opted to take a day off to have some family time.
I could live like this. I thought to myself.
It was much better than the suffocating prison of Marcus Zephanie's lab.
Frankly, I silently wished never to return. These people, Shay Zephanie's parents, were kind-hearted individuals. They're gentle and loving.
It makes me wonder what happens if they know of the truth.
What would happen if they learned that after Marcus Zephanie took Shay away from the hospital, after a thorough search everywhere and in every state of the police force for more than six months, that the child they had found wasn't the same child whom they had lost?
Would they hate me?
Would they hate Marcus?
If they found out the whole truth, what then?
Will Shay never get better?
I have no answers, and for my five-year-old self, I cannot fathom how I could think like this.
Maybe, it was part of my making.
Even if Marcus didn't state the obvious, I somehow knew that I wasn't normal.
The first few memories I had were of water, lots of it.
And there was the cold.
I could still feel its biting chill even from now.
I had woken up in a white room, cuffed to a metal board.
I remember feeling helpless and confused. I didn't know who I was or what I was or even where I was.
I was clueless. Yet, weirdly enough, I could recall Marcus, Marcus Zephanie, and his white coat.
Brief images from a watery vision had reminded me of where I had seen him. I find it strange to see him up close and clearly at that finally.
He had a huge smile plastered across his face. He didn't look scary or intimidating.
He was, in fact, a very charming looking person. However, I felt bothered by the way he had stared at me.
To be honest, he always seemed to look at me oddly.
Like I was some piece of an experiment, and he was studying me.
That was how my life began, with Marcus Zephanie telling me that I looked like her.
I had no idea whom he meant but I was too disoriented to ask.
He introduced himself and started calling me Eve.
I somehow disapproved of that name and later on created one for myself.
Avalyn. I saw that name on the many lists of names that Marcus handed towards me when I refused to acknowledge the name he gave.
It meant 'beautiful breath of life.'
That meaning somehow called out to me.
I repeated it over and over until Marcus began calling me by that name.
Avalyn. Ava.
The images began to shift from my mind's eye. I was no longer at the park.
Instead, I found myself looking through the peephole of my parent's closet. An array of hospital scrubs and formal suits hid me safely.
I was trying to hide from my mother and intended to surprise her after she got out of the shower.
I giggled as I heard footsteps coming.
Placing a hand to my mouth, I was surprised to see someone lurking behind her.
In an instant, I heard a terrible bang and watched in horror as a small hole pierced through her head, her body crumpling on the floor. She remained unmoving, a pool of blood began to spread from her wound.
My heart hammered hard against my chest, seeing the person who shot her.
Marcus.
I was too shocked to move. I painfully watched him walk away.
From a distance, I heard the sound of the front door opening.
I tried to blink away the tears that began to spill from my eyes.
I was scared.
There was another bang.
I came to understand what had just happened.
Marcus Zephanie killed my parents.
There was another shift in the memory dream.
I was no longer the scared kid crying helplessly inside the closet.
Instead, I found myself staring at Alice, Alice Zephanie.
She was sitting on her swivel chair. Her lifeless eyes were staring towards the ceiling of her corporate office back at the Mesial in CO. There was blood all over her chest where she was stabbed deeply.
I gazed towards her assailant, still standing beside her.
"Let this be a message to Marcus, Ava. Make sure he knows". He smirked, a cold expression on his handsome face.
"Go. And no one will know that you were here".
I clenched my hands into fists.
The door across her desk suddenly swung open.
Alice's secretary stood there, uncertain, seeing the scene before her.
She was clutching what I believed were documents that needed Alice's signature. I watched as her lips began to part open. But before she could scream, blood had slowly spooled across her chest.
Alice's killer, who was only moments ago standing beside her, was now behind Meredith Oliver.
Cold dread washed over me. But I knew there was nothing I could do.
I felt powerless.
My heart was pounding so hard against my chest. I opened my eyes to a dim-lit room. I think my heart might explode.
My body felt weak.
I could taste something foul in my mouth. I must have vomited at one point.
Adjusting my vision to the semi-darkness, I realized that I was lying in a bed. I was so light-headed, I must have been drugged.
Or maybe the flood of memories was too much.
What a nice welcome back to the present. I thought sarcastically and ruefully.
Regaining a tiny bit of strength, I sat up and instantly regretted it.
A nagging pain on my left thigh burst forth as I brought myself to a sitting position.
I pulled the covers off of me, and surely, there were bloodstains on the sweatpants I had on which somehow spread all over the blanket.
It was then that it hit me.
I wasn't drugged.
It was the effect of the poison.
Marcus Zephanie had triggered it.
I braced myself, swinging my right leg off of the bed. That was when I noticed a tiny piece of paper lying on the bedside drawer.
It was a note.
I carefully reached for it, wincing.
I instantly recognized Marcus' handwriting.
'The clock is ticking Ava. Time is running out'.
My heart quickened as I read his warning.
If I was going to help Detective Oliver catch Marcus, I had to do something.
I needed to act, and I think, right now, I needed to make that move.
Presentes
-- Presente
recebido Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder