the history books forgot about us, emerson

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/color]

Greenly

[/font] wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she first opened the box of letters she kept underneath her bed. Hours, minutes, and seconds blurred insentience for time became irrelevant once she the words “Dear Greenly,’ crossed her line of vision. Two simple words, so insignificant but they enthralled her in a trance that made her continue to read letter after letter till they all lay scattered all about her person. Kept in an pretty embossed box marked “Jewelry,” the letters now were worn with age and constant handling. So many times did she read the letters, that every word written on the yellowed paper was committed to her memory.

It had been a while since she last read her letters. Years, in fact. Before she read them for comfort but once Gabriel appeared , she no longer needed that comfort. Invading her every waking thought and every dream she dreamt at night, any chance she would think of her hometown vanished whenever he was nearby. Intoxicated by Gabriel, his kisses and the love she felt for him made she forget everything except breathing. And she welcomed it, knowing that dwelling on the past only caused for depression. Dwelling on her home, Emerson and maybe what might have been had she stayed never caused a smile to light up her face. Being with Gabriel did. Forget the past and enjoy the present, she chided herself whenever the past managed to sneak into the forefront of her thoughts. She thought she was cured once she returned home again but that wasn‘t the case. It involved more than returning home-no, something was missing. Seeing Emerson again, as brief as it was, sent her back into relapse. Back to the letters that helped her survive possibly the worst years of her life. The only difference was now the words that used to bring a smile to her face instead brought a sliver of melancholy.

Forlorn and wistful, she sighed loudly before gathering the letters together with great care not to crush the aged paper into a neat bundle to place in the box. With the papers safely in her box, she lifted the edges of the purple blanket that covered her bed, pushing the box far enough where it wouldn‘t gain too much attention amongst the other junk she kept underneath her bed. Dropping her slender frame onto her bed, yet another sigh emitted from her lips. Every instance of her life seemed filled with complications. Nothing was as easy as it seemed. Expecting her friendship with Emerson to be the same as it was when she left years ago was asking for too much. She realized this now, staring up at the slightly chipped paint of her bedroom ceiling. When would she learn that having such high expectations would only lead to more disappointment?

“Greenly!” The shrill voice of her grandmother from the base of the stairway brought Greenly from her reverie. She willed a bright smile on her face at the top of the stairs, before descending the stairs to the kitchen. Anything but would alarm her grandmother that something was wrong, and equipped with eyes of a hawk, nothing could escape her gaze. And if she saw that her granddaughter was less than happy, she would do anything in her power to cheer her up. At that moment Greenly wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated for half an hour so her grandmother could assess the situation. With a surprisingly light gait she walked downstairs, past the family to the kitchen where the heavenly scent of baked goods enveloped her in a warm embrace.

“Could you bring this over to the Owens?” she asked Greenly once she entered the kitchen, handing her a large basket heavy with preservatives, jams, and baked goods. Anything produced in Anna Benedikt’s kitchen was renown throughout the town as being the best of the best. No was able to replicate her food even with the help of recipes hand written by Anna herself, so many took to asking the elderly woman for her foodstuffs instead. Every week, her grandmother was either busy filling baskets such as this one or delivering them to the neighbors.

“Now?” Greenly asked, feeling rising apprehension fill her entire body. “Yes now, Anna has been waiting for these for two weeks, Greenly.” Her grandmother answered, guiding her unwilling granddaughter towards the front door. “ But I’m not dressed!” she exclaimed, trying to find some excuse not to walk to the Owens’ home. “What’s wrong with what you have on?” she asked. Everything, she thought glancing down at the dark denim miniskirt she received perfectly fine but after years of use, it was nothing more than fabric riddled with the various rips and marker produced doodles . Everyone from her brother to her next door neighbor hated the skirt but it was a gift from a good friend, and Greenly couldn’t bear to throw it away . The rest of her outfit wasn’t much of an improvement either. The loose cotton shirt fit more like a sack than the way it was intended to; loose and draping. One size too big she spent more of her time pulling up the straps rather than actually wearing it. Besides the fuchsia flats that covered her feet, everything was a remnant of the past.

As unwilling as a prisoner forced to walk to their death, she stiffly walked out of her home, wondering if she could somehow convince her grandmother to deliver the basket a later time. At a time when her grandfather was there to deliver it for her. Once or twice she turned around only to see her grandmother watching her to make sure she reached her destination. What was there to be afraid of? Rejection? As much as it would hurt, she’d learn to get over it. Nothing a few pints of ice cream and cookies couldn’t cure. If she didn’t drown herself in tears then there was always comfort food. Less than five minutes passed till she stood in front of the Owens home.

Hesitantly she walked to the door of the house she knew better than herself. Balancing the basket on her hip, she reached a hand to knock on the hard wooden door. Simply leaving the basket at the door before anyone opened the door crossed her mind as she waited for someone to open the door but the sound of life moving inside told her it was too late to run away. It’s do or die time, she thought as she plastered a poorly disguised grimace trying to pass off as a smile on her face. Plus I’ve faced worse, she reminded herself. Slightly encouraged by her inner pep talk , she relaxed slightly. The smile she now wore was natural and most importantly hid any anxiety she felt at that moment.


ooc; yea,um i didn't expect to write that much but the right background music always had that effect on me.

[/size][/blockquote]

[emerson owens]

i'm battle scarred
i am working oh so hard
to get back to who i used to be
- - - - - - - -

EMERSON slammed the door behind him, causing the keys that hung by the door to rattle from the force. Without pausing, he tossed his messenger bag to the side and shrugged out of his leather jacket—it landing in a heap atop his bag. He could hear his mother calling out to him from the kitchen, but paid her no mind. He doubted that whatever she had to say was of importance to him—even if it was, he knew he didn’t care. She didn’t deserve that distinction.

His feet clomped loudly up the stairs as he made his way to the only safe haven in the house: his room. Slamming the door behind him, Emerson launched himself onto his bed, ignoring the groans of the springs as they protested against his weight. He rolled onto his back and curled his hands behind his head as he glared up at the ceiling. Today had been particularly terrible—something he’d grown rather accustomed to. Ever since he discovered that he was cursed for all eternity, Emerson could scarcely recall a day that had been free of his embittered thoughts.

He often found himself wondering if he was being ridiculous with the self-condemnation. After all, he attempted to keep from coming into contact with others, surely that counted for something. If he attempted to atone for his curse, then perhaps he could compensate for all that he robbed others of.

Even then, Emerson knew that save becoming a hermit, he could never truly be free. People accidentally brushed against one another all the time—life was all about being connected with others. Even without his ‘ability’ he knew that the physical embrace of a loved one was more potent than all the words in the world. He would never again know the feeling of lips as they brushed lovingly against his own. His future was bleak and lonely. How could anyone fall in love with a monster? Moreover, even if by some miracle someone could, how could he justify robbing them of their sacred memories under his own selfish guise?

No, there was no escape of his wretchedness. Today had been evidence of this. No one else in the class seemed to care when the teacher announced that they would be commencing a unit on wrestling. No one save Emerson. He had paled, feeling nauseous at the thought. When he had attempted to explain to the teacher that he was not feeling up to physical exertion he was told to ‘man up.’ And so, Emerson was forced to endure an hour of hell. His partner grew frustrated that Emerson never lunged for him but was always quick to evade his maneuvers. Despite the lack of actual wrestling, by the end of class, Emerson was exhausted. Even with his best efforts, he had been unable to keep from seeing things about the other boy—things he wish he had never been forced to learn.

The sharp knocking on the front door broke his reverie. He waited to hear the sickeningly sweet voice of his mother as she bestowed false pleasantries upon whoever had come to visit. Instead he was met with silence. His brow furrowed as the visitor knocked again, louder this time.

He knew where his mother was, the pieces falling together. Rolling his eyes, Emerson swung his legs back over the edge of the bed and jogged down the stairs. He hoped that it wasn’t some kid attempting to sell chocolates for band…

“Just a second, I’m comin’!” he called when the person knocked again.

Opening the door, a shock ran through him, paralyzing him. Greenly Benedict. Once upon a time they had been the best of friends—she had known everything about him, and in turn, he could claim the same about her. Ever since he’d seen her at school he had been attempting to avoid her. It would be best if she made other friends with people who wouldn’t hurt her…

Clearing his throat, Emerson attempted to dislodge the lump that had formed there. Running his hands through his hair he sighed. “Greenly? What…what are you doing here?”

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/color]

Emerson

[/font] .The attractive face that stared out at her felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. All in all not much had changed in all the years they spent apart. Aside from the increase in stature and the maturity of his face, he still reminded her of the little boy who she shared her whole word with. As opposed to before, bewilderment and anxiety greeted her the moment he realized who stood before him. Slightly alarmed by his reaction, she felt thrown off balance, unprepared for his reaction though she pessimistically predicted just moments before. The words that left his lips next, only served to heighten her apprehension .

“Greenly? What…what are you doing here?” Indiscernibly, her smile slackened when she heard his words but will alone kept her from her smile disappearing altogether. It took even more to continue to stand in front of him without showing the multitude of emotions running through her. Evident on his face was the surprise of seeing her again-standing there in the flesh at his front door. Immediately she regretted that she hadn’t flat out refused to take the basket when her grandmother asked her to deliver it. Truth was, she was afraid at first. Afraid that after so long Emerson would no longer have any interest in being her friend. It was the only thing that kept her from knocking on his door sooner. Unfortunately there was some basis behind the fears she previously thought as childish.

The few times she had seen him in the hallways at school and more times than not he was always in the company of someone, conversing with as much ease she used to see when they were friends- better friends, but now that she stood in front of him, all the ease she saw before dissipated leaving behind uneasiness. Greenly wasn’t a stranger to people feeling uneasy in her presence. The brunette’s tendency to constantly have a scowl fixed on her face never made anyone feel at ease but they were overshadowed by the times she did choose to bestow a bright smile. Seldom did she remember a time when she knew that a person genuinely didn’t want to be in her company. Though she wasn’t the easiest person to get along with , she still found herself in the constant company of others.

Finding it harder than it seemed to keep the pretense of a smile on her face, she pursed her lips together, trying to find the right words to say without sounding too sarcastic, a habit she found herself slipping into whenever the right words escaped her mind . “I guess the thought never passed that I may have missed you and might want see you after all these years. Sorry to burst your bubble Emerson but I did. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I came back to Eventide and I didn’t see you at least once. Don’t tell me you already forgot about me? ” she asked, her tone seemingly light but out of place with the slight anxiety that flashed suddenly in her dark eyes before a stoic expression took over her features.

“Plus my grandmother sent me here as her delivery girl to bring this for your mother,” she added moving the forgotten basket from the position it held on her right hip to rest on top of her slightly raised thigh. “ So here you go.” Moving a step towards him, she handed him the heavy basket, happy to be rid of it’s cumbersome weight. Now there was nothing to hold her back from leaving. . Instead she found herself wanting to stay. The urge to leave didn’t entice her as much as it did when she first came to his door Why?

Like most aspects in her life she had no clue as to why certain things happened the way they did but she when it came to her life beyond Eventide she felt no distress on the turn of events. Even in her ex boyfriends case, in the depths of her heart she knew it would never last. Their relationship was based on a shaky foundation filled with the constant turmoil and Gabriel never was the type to like the prospect of a lasting relationship. All those things seemed insubstantial when she compared them to her friendship or lack of one with Emerson.
[/size][/blockquote]
[/size]

[emerson owens]

i'm battle scarred
i am working oh so hard
to get back to who i used to be
- - - - - - - -

HIS teeth pulled on the soft flesh of his lower lip as Emerson struggled to keep from laughing, or even smiling for that matter. He was only partially listening to her speak. This was the Greenly he remembered—the one who replied with sarcastic barbs and witty snips when a word would suffice. He missed the days spent laying on the grassy knolls listening to her rant on everything from why all boys were evil—except him, of course—to why there was a conspiracy theory regarding the amount of homework they’d been assigned. Now, as she accused him of avoiding her, Emerson wished that he could somehow travel back and suspend time to when things were simpler.

The moment he had discovered that she had returned to Eventide, Emerson had spent each moment carefully evading her. From his vantage point, Greenly never seemed particularly hurt by this. She never came over to him to say hello either at school or at home. He had all but convinced himself that she was avoiding him as well; something that caused him to ache beneath the weight of a lost friendship. It was for the best, though. Their friendship was filled with the lingering innocence of youth. Such innocence paled within the new world he was forced to reside in. It was bad enough that he had to endure it without pulling others into the vortex of his misery.

“So here you go,” Greenly declared, thrusting an overflowing basket into his hands.

His brow furrowed as he stared at it confused, attempting to piece together what she had said while he had been consumed by his own thoughts. Her grandmother, he remembered with a start. “Oh…um…well tell her thanks, I guess,” he stammered looking down at the neatly arranged jars of preserves. “My mom’s out right now but I’m sure she’ll come over soon.” Unable to keep from scowling at the mention of his mother, Emerson turned leaving the door open.

He knew that he should walk from her and not look back. There would be no doubt left behind in such an action. If he could provide Greenly with a clean break she would be able to move past him with ease. Their friendship existed within a different realm. There he wasn’t the monster, he was someone worth caring about; worth being a friend to. He could never go back. The man he was now was not compatible with the boy he had once been. Surely Greenly could understand why they could never return to how things had once been.

Even knowing what was right, Emerson could not bring himself to hurt her that way. “You can come in if you want,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the kitchen. “I need to put these things away.”

Knowing the right thing and being unable to commit to it made him all the worse.

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/font][/blockquote][/color]

Blinking[/font] in surprise, she visibly paused for a millisecond ,wondering if she heard correctly or did she imagine it. Once he informed her that his mother was gone she only expected a brief goodbye, and they could both on their way. If he only chose to say goodbye after receiving the basket, deep down she knew it meant more than just a simple goodbye. It was goodbye today, goodbye to their old friendship, and goodbye to any future of them having a friendship.

Softly pushing the door close with one hand, she stood fixed to her position though she heard the faint click of the lock . Dark eyes glanced left and right, taking in the familiar trappings of his house. Inside his home seemed frozen in time, if there were any changes they were too insignificant for her to notice. Nothing changed from the bright rug that greeted visitors in front of the door, or the pale color of the paint adorning the walls, still in the corner by the door were a pair of Emerson’s shoes. Who else did she know would wear those particular pair of sneakers? A ghost of a smile graced her lips as her mind recalled a familiar memory. When they were younger, Greenly could not remember a time when his mother didn’t remind her son that the front hallway wasn’t the place to put his sneakers. No matter how many times they were moved, in the next hour they’d be found thrown casually in the corner.

Running a finger lazily across the surfaces of the dark furniture, she followed Emerson towards the kitchen, stopping every a few yards or so to look at some knick knack that brought back a particular memory or a new piece of furniture that she had never seen before. By the time she reached the kitchen, Greenly had managed to inspect every aspect of the path from the front door to the kitchen. His home might as well been a museum the way she expertly scrutinized every bit of furniture till she was satisfied that everything was in order.

Once in the kitchen, she casually leaned against the granite of the kitchen counter top, her eyes glancing around the familiar kitchen, subjecting it to the same inspection she gave the front hallway. Similar to the front of the house, time hadn’t changed it one bit. She couldn’t explain why the urge to smile overwhelmed her when she realized that everything remained the same.His home served more as her home than her home did. Seeing it so unchanged gave her comfort that not all things had changed since she left. Rarely did she spend an entire day at her own home,and if there was a time that she did, they were usually spent in Emerson’s company. Otherwise, the two of them could either be found at Emerson’s home or wandering around the town, engaging in whatever activity that would entertain their minds for a certain time until they became bored and found something else to do. “ Wow. The house barely changed ever since I've been gone.” she stated, not able to keep the corners of her lips from curving upward in a smile.

In the corner of her eye, she spotted a lone guitar leaning against the wall of the living room. Though slightly worn through use , it was still as beautiful as she remembered. Without one word to Emerson, she strode across the floor of the kitchen to the living room that held the guitar. Plucking the guitar from its position, she took a seat on the nearby sofa. One by one she gently plucked the strings of the guitar till she was bored and began playing cords instead. “And you still play the guitar too?” Evidently, some things about Emerson didn’t change at all. “ Did anything not change when I was gone?” Lifting her eyes from the guitar that rested across her lap to his warm brown eyes.
[/blockquote]

[emerson owens]

i'm battle scarred
i am working oh so hard
to get back to who i used to be
- - - - - - - -

KEEPING his head down, Emerson focused on the task at hand – alphabetizing the preserves Greenly's grandmother had sent over. The low squeak of the floorboard confirmed his worst fear – she had taken him up on his invitation to come in. He had hoped, however foolishly that might have been, that she would have other plans and have excused herself. Now, it seemed that she was content to run her hand over all the asinine trinkets his mother insisted clutter the house. Scowling, he devoted his attention to opening the bread box and rearranging the contents. If he looked preoccupied surely she couldn't assume that he was purposely ignoring her.

"Wow. The house barely changed ever since I've been gone."

Emerson wasn't certain if she was watching to see him shrug in response – the bagels needed to be stacked so that he could add additional room. Regardless of if she noticed or not, Greely said nothing about his sullen mood, moving through the house as though she lived there. He supposed on a superficial level the home looked the same as it always had; his mother was intent on maintaining appearances. If the house reflected a happy family, surely that was what dwelled inside.

The soft strumming of his guitar broke his somber mood. Slamming the lid to the bread box shut he followed the soft, wavering notes until he found Greely perched easily on the sofa, her fingers flowing with ease across the strings. Leaning against the door frame, he folded his arms across his chest, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. For a moment he could remember why they had been friends in the first place.

"And you still play the guitar too?" Greenly murmured, her faint voice filled with musing. "Did anything not change when I was gone."

With a shock he remembered why they could no longer be friends, why her being there was wrong. Greenly must know that things had changed; they all lingered in the air as a silent witness. She would be a fool to think that everything had remained the same in her departure. Although he knew she could never imagine how much things had shifted during her absence, she had to know. Even he was certain that she had changed through the years.

"No," he muttered, looking away from her probing gaze. "Everything's different now."

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/color]

Sighing[/font] deeply, Greenly lowered her head, his words replaying over and over like a broken tape in her mind. Even us, she silently questioned though she already knew the answer. Of course things were different, as much as she didn‘t want to admit it. Greenly herself had changed in the course of years, the only semblance she had to her former self, the girl Emerson knew, was only in appearance. In manner, they were two entirely different people. The changes in Emerson were subtle but they were still there. This being the same boy who would share everything with her but could barely spare more than ten words at seeing her for the first time after seven years. She didn’t expect a giant hoopla- well, maybe she did- at least a hug and a ‘I missed you Greenly,’ not the shocked and cold reception she received instead.

“ Oh yea, I guess it would be. I mean, not everything stays the same … no matter how much you want it to be,” her tone wistful and quiet as her dark eyes raised to meet his but only met the masculine expanse of his profile. He leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes turned away from her own in… an emotion she couldn‘t quite read nor wanted to, knowing that the knowledge would only upset her more.

Absentmindedly her fingers plucked at the guitar strings, jerking at the wire in erratic intervals, creating a series of twangs that only added to the awkward tension in the room. Tension that materialized as soon as those four words left his lips. Unable to keep her agitated fingers still, she quickly released the guitar from her death grip, resting it upright on the couch alongside her leg. A state of agitation always spelled disaster for the teen, for without fail her ability always followed it. And she would rather suffer humiliation rather than have her ability manifest in front of Emerson.

Maybe she was a fool, a stupidly naïve fool stuck in the daydreams of yesteryear. She couldn’t deny that she wanted his friendship but she couldn’t deny what stared her in the face either; he didn’t want her , her friendship, or anything to do with her. At her realization, a sorrow so acute quickly spread through her, stealing the very breath from her chest.

But why? She felt helpless, baffled, and unprepared for his rejection.A long time ago, she could have read his every mood, every thought left unspoken but now it proved more of a challenge than interpreting a dead language. Though she couldn't understand his apprehension at her presence, she needed to learn what kept his lips sealed. Otherwise her sanity would never be appeased, and nothing but sleepless nights lay ahead of her.

Longingly, she cast a sidelong glance at his direction before returning it to her lap a few moments later. She wished she could close the distance between them, place a reassuring hand on his arm and tell him something- anything to eradicate the awkwardness that permeated the air between them and threatened to drive her crazy. Instead she sat fixed to her spot on the couch, slightly lifting her eyes to face in front of her, muttering words, regardless of what they were just to break the silence ."So would you say the changes were for better or for worse ?" [/size]
[/blockquote]

[emerson owens]

i'm battle scarred
i am working oh so hard
to get back to who i used to be
- - - - - - - -

HE was hurting her. Each word lacerated her, the pain and confusion flickering across her soft features as she watched – studied – him. As much as Emerson longed to tell Greenly what had happened to him, the words died upon his lips and fluttered away like ash in the stillness that surrounded him. The pain she felt in his rejection was kind in the face of what she would endure if he opted to be selfish. He had no claim on her now. No matter how much he wished for a different lot in life, this was his reality: in their years apart he had transformed into a bitter, evil monster. Even if he were somehow to miraculously draw upon a shared memory, her perception of the event would taint his own recollections. He knew it was entirely possible for two people to view the same event beneath entirely different lenses. All he could do was push her away in order to save her.

He didn't speak as the silence, pregnant with apprehension, enveloped them. With each laggard second the tension grew until it was a tangible presence, threatening to suffocate them both. Her fingers absently plucked the strings of his guitar again and he stole a glance at her face. There had been a time when he had known each line, each freckle, but that time had passed. Before him sat a girl he no longer knew. The differences fell deeper than the obvious blossoming from girl to woman – there was a hardness to Greenly now. As much as he wanted to ask what had changed her, Emerson knew he couldn't. To question her invited questions pertaining to himself – questions he could never answer for the truth was too impossible to describe.

"So would you say the changes for better or for worse?"

An embittered laugh escaped his lips as he turned to face her once more. If what had happened to him could be classified as a mere change everything would be different. A change implied that things could be reversed. There was no return to normalcy for him – god knows how hard he had tried. He had been transformed into a monster so despicable that he could not find reference in literature. No author had thought to create someone as hideous as himself. He wished he had the fortune of dealing with trivial changes.

Raising his brow he tipped his head. How much of him did she even see now? "I think you already know the answer to that."

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/color]

Yes[/font] , she did know. Unconsciously, her lowered head nodded softly in agreement because she knew it was the truth. It was pointless to say otherwise; to deny that Emerson wasn‘t her Emerson anymore was foolish– he hadn’t been hers for a while now. The only glimpses of the she saw of her old friend were so minute and barely discernible that he might as well have been a passer by on the streets. And yet, she didn’t want to release her hold on the memories. As much time had passed , they were still imprinted firmly in her mind , as if days not years had passed since the day she came to his room to tell him goodbye one last time before she was spirited away to England.

She remembered how she stood at his door, apprehensive to the point her reddened lower lip sported the impressions of her teeth biting into the soft flesh from anxiety. That morning she planned every word she would say to him before she left but coherent thoughts weren’t conceivable once she found herself standing in front of him, making small talk to replace the awkward silence. The silence then wasn’t like the harsh silence that filled every corner of the room , jabbing her senses more sharply than knives ever would.

That afternoon they rambled on and on about mundane subjects that they would have never talked about if the circumstances were different. It wasn’t until she heard her name reverberated sharply from the foot of the stairs that she realized that time was short. A hand tightly grasped the handle of his door while one foot rested out of his room when she suddenly flew across the room to fall upon his neck, holding on to him as tightly as she could. “I’ll miss you.” She whispered in a rushed breath against the curve of his cheek before she wrenched herself away from him . Once again her name was called, distracting Greenly from all she planned to say. But as soon as she opened her mouth to say something she heard her name called in urgency. "Don't worry I'll call you when i get to England and send you a million letters every day," she called out to him as she ran down the stairs to the front door. And she made sure she kept her promise. Religiously, she sat at her desk every day, mulling her mind for events to tell Emerson. For everyday she sent him a letter she received one back and if not a letter than a phone call. Her trips to the post were so frequent that most of the employes came to know the girl by first name. But gradually the letters dwindled and dwindled.

One week it was two as opposed to four then only one until there were none at all. At first she blamed the missing letters on the post office but after a while she came to terms that it wasn't the post office. It was Emerson. It was like an oncoming brick wall when she finally realized. Used to seeing her with a stack of letters in her hand, her neighbor called out to her in jolly tone one day expecting the usual answer that led them off into a discussion of the old days when people actually wrote letters. In a pleasant tone, he waved to her slight figure at the entrance of her home."Any letters today?"he asked her no clue as to how much it pained her to be reminded of him. In a solemn tone, she replied hesistant to say the words because then she would have to face the truth. " No, not today... it seems my friend forgot about me."

That was the past she thought harshley to herself breaking the lull that her memory placed on her.Briefly she lifted her eyes to meet Emerson.Did he realize how he was hurting her? The Emerson she knew never would hurt her but this one didn't seem really to care. A thin, facsimile of a smile darted across her face devoid of any happiness, only a simple emotion- melancholy. It seemed that it was the only emotion her body could feel, that and the usual: confusion, disappointment, and regret. Was there something about the dark haired girl that caused fate to deal her cards that spelled her unhappiness? Was she supposed to live her life imprisoned by it? Was not life meant to be more than a gloomy day after another? She only wished she knew. Attempts to scour her memory for where she took that wrong turn, where she strayed away only resulted in even more uncertainty.

It felt ironic that their first meeting would be like this. Cold.Awkward. This should have been a moment of joy. But it wasn’t.

“ So that’s why you’re punishing me?” she asked, her voice harsh and wounded even in her own ears though she tried to mask all her emotion tomake her voice seem neutral and uncariong.But she failed, putting on display the very emotion she wanted to hide. “ Because of some changes that happened when I was away?” She frowned slightly, her teeth coming down hard onto her lower lip. Trying to conceal her emotions- to stop feeling was useless when all she felt was raw emotion. [/size]

[/size][/blockquote]

[emerson owens]

i'm battle scarred
i am working oh so hard
to get back to who i used to be
- - - - - - - -

IF he closed his eyes, Emerson could almost recall how the world looked the last time they had stood here. The way her eyes had stared up at his with remorse as she whispered goodbye. Even before that moment, he could remember the laughter the freedom of an unjaded youth. Back when the clouds of pessimism could not exist; could not cast the long shadows within which he now dwelled. Everything had been possible then.

Time had changed them both. Even she must know that it was impossible to reside within the youthful optimism forever. The simple things they had once known had faded and distorted. Surely she must know that if he thought there was even a sliver of possibility for the two of them to regain what they had once shared that he would move any obstacle. How was he to move beyond himself, though? He wasn't strong enough for that. This – isolated and bleak as his future seemed – was all he could offer her. Greenly could go on and make new friends, allowing him to fade with tender sweetness to the soft glow relocated to childhood memories. Every pain she felt ache through her chest now was nothing in comparison to what his friendship would cause her to endure. Everything he said and did now was for her. Emerson wished she could see that. For all his churning thoughts he had no words.

"So that's why you're punishing me? Because of some changes that happened when I was away?" Her words fell like ice, shattering against the weighted silence as she glowered at him. Her full lips fell into a pout, her brow creasing beneath the pain he had inflicted.

Emerson's chest constricted as he took in the sight of his former friend. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and pull her close. To gently run his thumb across the puckered skin of her brow till it was smooth and serene once more. His jaw clenched tight as he remained rooted by the door. Going to her now would only hurt her further.

"P-punish you?!" he stammered, unable to wrap his mind around what had compelled her to that conclusion. Raking his hands across his face, his hands gripped fiercely at his hair as he sucked in calming breaths. His jaw clenched so fiercely that he could feel the throbbing pulse of his temple against the base of his palm. Only once he could hear past the roar in his ears did he release his hair.

Resigned, he sighed. No matter how hard he tried, in the end he would always be the loser. As long has air rushed through his lungs and his heart continued to beat strong within his chest, he would continue hurting those around him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he kept his eyes closed as he spoke again. "Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe this isn't about you at all Greenly?" He bit down on his lower lip as he struggled for the right words. With slow deliberation, he dropped his hand and stared at her with earnest, "These changes…they…I'm not that boy anymore. We can't ever go back. It's too late. Even if we wanted to, who I am now isn't good for you. Do you understand?"

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/color]

Understand?[/font] Greenly could barely contemplate why they were in their present situation where they were undeniably caught between a rock and a hard place, let alone understand what he was asking of her– telling her to leave and never look back wards. In retrospect he didn't ask her for much; the door stood only a few mere feet away from her seat on the living room couch. She only had to rise from her seated position, grab her grandmother's basket, and walk away, possibly forever saying goodbye to the friendship she and Emerson once had and the future of them of ever having one again.

"Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe this isn't about you at all Greenly?" he said. At his words her mouth poised ready to shoot off a biting remark, but the truth kept her from uttering the words that would only help to make the situation worse. He was right ,of course. It had always been her nature to act first and think later. And more often than not the results always ended for the worse. As guilt rose in her throat, she wished that she hadn‘t said what she said but she was hurt. Times like those always made her think irrationally to the point she always reacted negatively. Greenly could wish as much as she could till her voice grew hoarse but wishful thinking couldn‘t erase the damage done by the expression on her childhood friend’s face." No, I-I don't know what to really think," she answered truthfully. Maybe if you only told me, maybe then I wouldn't feel so confused, she thought silently. But expecting him to spill his deepest thoughts to her one afternoon would be foolish on her part.

Again in her mind, she considered leaving. It might be for the best. Yes, it was easy to walk away– too easy, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Greenly knew if she left it would only be a temporary solution; she knew she would mull it over for ages, berating herself for leaving when she could have tried to do something– anything, as long as she didn‘t leave. If only to set things right between them. She grasped the edges of the couch, quickly rising from her seat fearing that if she took any more time she would lose all her courage and remain frozen to her seat. Her steps were tentative as she walked toward him, hoping that she could all the words she wanted to say.

When she reached him, she quickly ducked her head as soon as she realized that every thing she could possibly think of sounded reminiscent of a crappy greeting card. No time like the present, she resolved in her mind– it wouldn’t do to stare at the tops of her shoes all afternoon long like a mute. With a sigh of release, she lifted her eyes to look him squarely in his brown eyes. “New friends won‘t ever help. Sometimes it’s the worse thing you can do,” she commented, her features overcast with a thoughtful but serious expression. “And I don‘t want to move on-I doubt I really can. I can’t understand your logic for us not being friends because frankly I still want to be your friend.” She paused in between her words as if to reaffirm to herself what she was about to say. “But I want to understand.”

And with a slight smile that she hoped was reassuring, she softly lay a hand on his fabric covered arm feeling the warmth that radiated from his skin. “And you‘re wrong, you’re not bad for me. No matter what you say, I can’t ever think you as being bad for me. Or else why would I be still be here?”

[/size][/blockquote]

[emerson owens]

i'm battle scarred
i am working oh so hard
to get back to who i used to be
- - - - - - - -

EMERSON ground his teeth together in frustration, the strain causing his jaw to ache. His fingers curled inward, balling into tight fists that strained the tendons of his hands white. Yet, with each pained word that fell from Greenly's lips, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Before him stood the best part of his past – the innocence of a childhood long forgotten. Shattering her would be like breaking himself, destroying the only thing that was still pure. No matter how desperately he wanted to say the words he knew would kill them both, Emerson couldn't. Instead he stood, watching in horror as she tentatively made her way to him. There was something about her careful movements that caused him to hold his breath – it was as though Greenly intuitively knew that one wrong step would crush them both.

"I want to understand," she breathed, laying her hand with the softness of butterfly wings against the thin cotton of his shirt sleeve.

A sharp gasp escaped his lips as his eyes snapped shut. Beneath her innocent touch his skin burned, pulsing as though it sought to break through the thin layer that protected her from him. Every cell within him seemed to rush to the place where her hand rested. He felt as though he were being torn apart, slowly severed and left to writhe until he faded away. Yet, through the unfathomable pain, he felt something more. Her concern, her desire to grab hold of what had once existed between them warmed him, dulling the searing ache. But he wasn't strong enough to remain this way and Emerson twisted his arm away. "Greenly, please," he rasped, locking eyes with her once more, willing her to see the changes time had bestowed upon him. Where words failed now, he prayed the final vestiges of their friendship would bring clarity. "I can't. I just can't."

Turning his back on her he stalked away from her. His hands gripped at the narrow window sill as he stared with dull eyes out at the garden. In the brown earth and barren branches he could see himself. He had once had a life, something to offer and share while now all he had was the utter repulsion with himself. He could never comfort a friend who was hurting, never wipe the tears from a loved one, or press his lips in promise against another. All he was now as a brittle, fragile shell; a dimmed reminder of who he could have been.

"All I'll do is hurt you," he murmured. "No matter what type of monster I am now, you're the one person I could never hurt. Please, just leave before it's too late."

With each passing second, Emerson was falling further into the past he never imagined would return for him. Each moment that his eyes locked with Greenly he could see the boy she so desperately wanted to find once more. This curse had never truly destroyed him, he realized painfully. Instead it held all of his innocence prisoner, taunting not only Emerson but all that had once known him with glimpses of who he could have been if his life had followed a different course.

And he knew, above all else, that the longer Greenly Benedikt stood there, asking him to return to her, that his resolve would continue to falter. Until finally, he would have no choice but to surrender.

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/color]

Greenly[/font] stared intently at Emerson’s back, her agitation apparent in the way harried way her slender fingers flew at the hem of her skirt, pulling at the loose strands methodically and the intensity of her dark gaze. She wanted to ask why; she couldn’t leave knowingly without knowing the reason as to why he couldn’t - why they couldn’t be.

“I only want to know wh-” she began to say, her words a soft whisper in the air. And in a low voice he murmured words that stalled her speech and struck a chord in her chest. " No matter what type of monster I am now, you're the one person I could never hurt. Please, just leave before it's too late."
Memories that she painstakingly locked away in the back of her mind resurfaced, pushing away every though and ever feeling except for feelings of guilt, concern, and sorrow for herself and her former friend. It wasn’t hard to remember the days when she felt like him-alone, stuck in self isolation with only her embittered thoughts of ‘why me?’ as company. She couldn’t understand why she was given an ability so destructive she wouldn’t dare to be near anyone, even her family, lest her anger get the better of her. And for a while, it worked for her, until finally a boy who she at first despised then loved forced himself into her life with no more than a shamefully confident look. Starved for affection, she barely gave up a fight and allowed herself to get carried away. And for a while, she was whole again or as whole as she could be.

She leaned her head against the flat surface of the wall, her eyes still fixed on Emerson, the thoughts of the past not too far from her mind. Looking back, she had foolishly believed that she was all right but with all that Gabriel had done for her, she still remained shattered inside but difference was the slipshod repairs that did nothing more than hide all her insecurities, her faults, her darkness behind a veneer, friends who were never short of compliments and barbs, and a wild fun filled life full with as many narcotics, alcoholic drinks, and brushes with police that a girl could ever want. And then it all fell apart as did she.

For awhile all she felt was pain-pain so great she felt numbed by it. It was a phantom ache now, only a reminder of the greater pain she suffered when she first witnessed him betray her trust. Hope caused her to believe that somehow returning to Eventide, to Emerson would help her and finally repair what was once broken. But in an unforeseen turn of events, she found herself wanting to -having to help the person who she thought could help her. He could deny it, but Greenly could clearly see how different he was and how much he resembled her years ago. She could only guess at what bothered him but neither that or his appeals for her to leave seemed enough to make her leave him.

He couldn’t save her- that much was true- no more than he could save himself and she wasn’t cut out to play a heroine. Every other moment she feared the wrong words would leave her lips and further increase the distance between them and erase the last remnants of their friendship. In spite of the flaws that plagued her, she would try.

Moving from the wall towards him, she walked over to his side. A hand lay on the window sill, as she leaned against the cool glass panes all the while staring at his seemingly impassable features. “Emerson…” her voice trailed as her eyes fixated on his profile, silently imploring that her words were enough to convince him that he couldn’t remain this way-denying .“ You aren’t a monster. The friends I used to have, my old boyfriend ,the person I was then and even now are the monsters, but not you.”

“Don’t deny yourself something you need. It‘ll only hurt us more, if not you then me.” Please, Emerson.
[/size][/blockquote]

[emerson owens]

i'm battle scarred
i am working oh so hard
to get back to who i used to be
- - - - - - - -

LEANING FORWARD, Emerson rested his head against the cool glass of the window. His fingers wrapped against the narrow sill until his tendons strained white beneath his tenuous grip. Greenly had always been stubborn. When they were younger she wouldn't waver in her resolve to get him to play what she wanted – to watch whatever movie she wanted. Somehow she always managed to get him to cave to her will. All those times before what she had asked had been safe, innocent. This time he was trying to spare her from a fate she would regret choosing. All of this was for her, and she refused to accept it.

"What do you want me to say? That I'm lying?" he turned to face her, his teeth grinding together painfully to hold back the flood of emotion. "I'm. Not. That. Boy," he spat.

He could feel her warmth beside him, the liquid pools of sorrow in her eyes. He was killing her with his words, with his refusal to embrace all they had once been. His fingers itched to trace the soft curve of her jaw, to wrap her silken hair them as he held her close. All he had once dreamed of having with her was standing so close that he could feel her hesitant breath caress his cheek. "You don't know how much this kills me, Greenly. Seeing you like this. Knowing I'm hurting you. " He bit down on his lower lip, forcing back the anguish he had become accustomed to. Emerson wasn't used to the flood of emotions that overwhelmed him now. He had thought he had placed everything behind him years ago, that he was apathetic to wanting anything from anyone. As he stared into the eyes of the one person who had known him best in the world he knew that he had been lying to himself for far too long.

Nothing that happened to him made sense. He had heard of others with abilities through bragging in the locker room and demonstrations behind the cafeteria. There were those that could do incredible feats, things that rivaled comic book heroes. Emerson envied them. They had been blessed while he had been cursed. What had turned his classmates into heroes ripped from the pages of a comic book had turned him into a villain against his own will. He wanted to be the one to set Greenly free from the pain trapped in her eyes and not be the one to perpetuate it. His asking her to walk away from him was not merely killing him, but her as well. He could not repair her, only destroy the fragile hope she still clung to.

His hands tightened into fists as he watched her. He hated who he had become, who he was now. Everything within him longed to travel to that time of innocence years ago that held them both safely within her hands. He wanted to be the boy Greenly still thought him to be, the one who fought imaginary dragons by her side and built castles in lazy clouds overhead. Instead he was left with the searing knowledge that one wrong move would rob her from so much more than just a friendship that had faded away. White hot anguish ripped him apart. He hadn't realized that saying goodbye this final time would hurt so much. Emerson had thought that he was past feeling anything pertaining to what he had become. He had thought that he had come to accept the bleak future he was now presented with. But with Greenly beside him, Emerson knew that he had been lying to himself all along.

With downcast eyes, he struggled to find the words to explain to her what had happened, all the while clinging to the quiet hope that she wouldn't understand. Perhaps by leaving Eventide all those years ago Greenly had somehow been spared the same fate so many others in the town were afflicted with. "I-I can do th-things now," he stammered, unsure. "When I touch people I see a part of them. I never know what part it will be. I-I steal memories from people without their consent. I know it sounds crazy. I wish I was. B-but of that doesn't make me a monster I don't know what does."

He couldn't look at her once he had finished. Because as he stood there beside her, Emerson knew he had lied to himself once more. It wasn't the hope that she had been spared that had compelled him to share that which plagued him the most, it was the desire that she would understand.

[greenly benedikt]

Come back to me the way you were
The way you were when we were young
I'm trying to tell you everything

[/color]

She[/font] was going to tear them apart. And before she knew what had happened, she would be left far worse than before. They would both be left hurting with nothing but the remedy of time to cure them. She didn’t realize that opening one door of the past would open the floodgates for all the emotions, all the sorrow that the two shared. And even with the knowledge that was she was doing might hurt her in the end, she continued. The searing ache in her chest wasn’t there that morning nor the forlorn look on Emerson’s strong features but Greenly couldn’t ignore the thought that if she didn’t at least persist, he’d be lost to her forever. So in frustration, she listened to his reasons only to refute why they were wrong.

“When I touch people I see a part of them. I never know what part it will be. I-I steal memories from people without their consent. I know it sounds crazy. I wish I was. B-but of that doesn't make me a monster I don't know what does."

Shock ran through her veins, freezing her still besides him. Until she left England she had always believed that she was an anomaly, a freakish genetic mishap, and the only monster in a sea of normal human beings but time in Eventide opened her eyes, if only little, making her see that she wasn’t the only one to be born with extraordinary abilities, even if they were unwanted. But her shock still held her tight in its tight grip. It was too surreal to know that Emerson, her childhood friend, was more like her than she ever thought. Her gaze, filled with concern and pity, fell on his face, imagining how it must have been for him to always have the memories of others with each touch. Dealing with her own memories were troubling as is, let alone the memories of people she knew, loved, hated, and cared for. Breaking from her paralysis, she slowly shook her head in disagreement. “ No, it doesn’t sound crazy at all,”she admitted in a low voice.

Before the words could leave her lips, a ragged sigh left her chest, filled with the emotions that overwhelmed her the moment she first saw his face. “Because I changed too.”

Her words floated heavily in the silence that surrounded her confession, waiting to be filled, waiting to be explained. “Whenever I was angry, I was afraid to touch anything because I didn’t know if it would crumble to pieces in front of my eyes. And sometimes I could barely control my anger,” her voice continued steadily, devoid of all the anxiety she felt inside her mind as an onslaught of images fought to rush in her conscious mind, bringing light to all the memories she tried but miserably failed to hide in the dark. “So… I tried to stay away from everyone but there were times I couldn’t-I didn’t and I managed to hurt them so badly that-” She tried to continue, but the words refused to leave her thoughts, and with them the burden of guilt she carried for all those years since her mistakes.

But with those words, her chest filled with yet another anxiety. In her mind, she knew she would understand if Emerson never wanted to associate with her. Why would she force him to remain in the same room as her when there was a possibility that he could see all which she tried to lock away and see the real Greenly, the Greenly who was nothing like the Greenly that stood before him or the girl of his childhood? She couldn’t find fault in him if he felt shocked even repulsed by her memories but in her heart she knew that it would completely break her, finishing the job Gabriel started not too long ago. Try as she might to pretend that she was healed, she wouldn’t be able to withstand Emerson’s rejection.

Even though she wished that he could accept her, she knew it was too much to ask of him. How could he accept her flaws and all, when he couldn’t accept himself and he was the lesser of two evils?

Nervously, her fingers traced the smooth panes of glass and the edge of the window sill only aware of the thundering of her heartbeat and the shallow breaths she took, as she waited for his answer. “Guess now you don’t have to being the only monster,” she stated wryly, the attempt of humor in her voice dry and brittle as a deadened branch.
[/size][/blockquote]