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Authors: Christine Hughes
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of the room and down the hall. If there was one person who could explain the dream I just had, it was Malena.
I found her sitting on her bed, painting her toes a glittery blue. It reminded me of the ocean, the same color as Ethan’s eyes.
“Hey.” I leaned against her open door.
“What do you want?” She concentrated on her toes.
“What time is it?”
“Two.”
“In the morning?”
“No. The sun just decided to take the day off. That’s what you came here to ask me?”
“No. I wanted to talk.”
“Then talk.” She dipped the brush into the little bottle of polish.
“Why are you so angry with me?”
“I’m not angry. I’d have to care about you to be angry. I don’t care. I’m just, indifferent. And of course it’s not like you tried to kill me or anything.”
I stepped into her room and stood, watching her paint with long, smooth strokes, absently rubbing my arms to calm my nerves.
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.” She waved her hand, blowing my apology off.
“I had a dream.”
“So did Martin Luther King, Jr.” She blew on her toes.
“Why do you have to be so sarcastic?”
“I’m fluent.” Jesus. She was looking everywhere but at me.
“ Malena stop. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
She sighed loudly, capped the polish and put it on her nightstand. “Fine. Sit. Not there,” she said as I lowered myself at the foot of her bed. She pointed to the chair. I rolled my eyes at her and sat. I stretched my neck to relieve my building tension.
“Okay. So what’s the problem? I mean other than the fact that you’re fucking crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. Why do you have to be so…” I searched my head for the right word but settled on the childish. “Mean?”
“Because my mommy left and daddy didn’t love me.” She continued to fan her toes with her free hand.
“Can’t you stop being such a bitch for one minute?” This was a bad idea.
“Fine. Please tell me what your problem is.” Her sudden eagerness was obviously faked.
I knew this was gonna go nowhere. “I had a weird dream about Damien. There was fighting and killing and I didn’t seem too bothered by it.”
“And you’re bothered because you weren’t bothered?”
“Yes. No. It’s just that, I was walking through a field and everyone was fighting. He took me through the woods. There was a snake and apples…”
“Apples, huh?” She interrupted, looking at me cautiously.
“Yeah. Why?” I knew the apples were important.
“Did you eat them? Scratch that, of course you did. You ate them before, when you were…”
“Shackled to the floor?” My interruption made her pause.
She leaned against her headboard, arms crossed, face giving away nothing. “And of course, I gave you one. To control you. He’s controlling your dreams. Remember when you first met him? He gave you an apple then, t oo. Remember how angry you were… and then you weren’t?”
I nodded, wanting her to continue.
“Well, he can control you that way. Not as well as he can control others, it seems. But that’s his way.”
“I don’t get it.”
“We talked about this.” I swore her eyes would roll into the back of her head.
“Explain it again.”
“What did Eve eat in the Garden?”
“An apple.”
“Right.”
I picked at my cuticles, wishing my hands were as well manicured as hers. “So the apple?”
“Temptation. Easier to tempt you to do what he wants when you’re docile. I bet he’s trying to figure out why it doesn’t work as well with you. I mean, you’re confused enough to be impressionable.”
“You make me sound like a child.”
“In some ways you are. You may be eighteen years old, but all this is new to you. How else are you going to react? If I were in your shoes, I’d probably be nuts, too.”
She’d given me a lot to think about. I sat, staring out the window, feeling a familiar tingle wash over my skin. I rubbed my arms to ward off the chill.
“I’m not nuts.” I felt like
I found her sitting on her bed, painting her toes a glittery blue. It reminded me of the ocean, the same color as Ethan’s eyes.
“Hey.” I leaned against her open door.
“What do you want?” She concentrated on her toes.
“What time is it?”
“Two.”
“In the morning?”
“No. The sun just decided to take the day off. That’s what you came here to ask me?”
“No. I wanted to talk.”
“Then talk.” She dipped the brush into the little bottle of polish.
“Why are you so angry with me?”
“I’m not angry. I’d have to care about you to be angry. I don’t care. I’m just, indifferent. And of course it’s not like you tried to kill me or anything.”
I stepped into her room and stood, watching her paint with long, smooth strokes, absently rubbing my arms to calm my nerves.
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.” She waved her hand, blowing my apology off.
“I had a dream.”
“So did Martin Luther King, Jr.” She blew on her toes.
“Why do you have to be so sarcastic?”
“I’m fluent.” Jesus. She was looking everywhere but at me.
“ Malena stop. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
She sighed loudly, capped the polish and put it on her nightstand. “Fine. Sit. Not there,” she said as I lowered myself at the foot of her bed. She pointed to the chair. I rolled my eyes at her and sat. I stretched my neck to relieve my building tension.
“Okay. So what’s the problem? I mean other than the fact that you’re fucking crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. Why do you have to be so…” I searched my head for the right word but settled on the childish. “Mean?”
“Because my mommy left and daddy didn’t love me.” She continued to fan her toes with her free hand.
“Can’t you stop being such a bitch for one minute?” This was a bad idea.
“Fine. Please tell me what your problem is.” Her sudden eagerness was obviously faked.
I knew this was gonna go nowhere. “I had a weird dream about Damien. There was fighting and killing and I didn’t seem too bothered by it.”
“And you’re bothered because you weren’t bothered?”
“Yes. No. It’s just that, I was walking through a field and everyone was fighting. He took me through the woods. There was a snake and apples…”
“Apples, huh?” She interrupted, looking at me cautiously.
“Yeah. Why?” I knew the apples were important.
“Did you eat them? Scratch that, of course you did. You ate them before, when you were…”
“Shackled to the floor?” My interruption made her pause.
She leaned against her headboard, arms crossed, face giving away nothing. “And of course, I gave you one. To control you. He’s controlling your dreams. Remember when you first met him? He gave you an apple then, t oo. Remember how angry you were… and then you weren’t?”
I nodded, wanting her to continue.
“Well, he can control you that way. Not as well as he can control others, it seems. But that’s his way.”
“I don’t get it.”
“We talked about this.” I swore her eyes would roll into the back of her head.
“Explain it again.”
“What did Eve eat in the Garden?”
“An apple.”
“Right.”
I picked at my cuticles, wishing my hands were as well manicured as hers. “So the apple?”
“Temptation. Easier to tempt you to do what he wants when you’re docile. I bet he’s trying to figure out why it doesn’t work as well with you. I mean, you’re confused enough to be impressionable.”
“You make me sound like a child.”
“In some ways you are. You may be eighteen years old, but all this is new to you. How else are you going to react? If I were in your shoes, I’d probably be nuts, too.”
She’d given me a lot to think about. I sat, staring out the window, feeling a familiar tingle wash over my skin. I rubbed my arms to ward off the chill.
“I’m not nuts.” I felt like
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