Read Online Savage (Daughters of the Jaguar) by Willow Rose - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Willow Rose
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everything out. I was looking for explanations. I knew I was rambling about this, but I just couldn’t help it.
Chapter 9
A week later they called from the paper The St. Augustine Record. They wanted to meet with me at the house and talk to me about the attack.
"A personal interview about the accident," a woman who called herself Julie Goldman said.
With Dr. Kirk’s advice in mind, I allowed them to come and ask a few questions. "But only until I get tired," I said. "Then you have to leave." I still suffered from a weakness that didn’t seem to want to let go of me. I was still in pain from my wounds, and the voices and images constantly flickering in my head left me exhausted.
Julie Goldman was a woman in her late thirties with that efficient look in her eyes that ambitious women often have. She was flanked by an older man with a camera around his neck. We sat in the patio furniture in Mrs. Kirk’s rose garden behind the house, and Maria served us iced tea. She smiled widely before she left us to ourselves.
“So you had only been in Florida one day when this happened?” Julie Goldman asked while the photographer circled us and took pictures from all sides including several close-ups of my bandages. It felt a little intimidating.
“Not even an entire day," I answered. "I had just arrived that same afternoon. Some friends and I just wanted to go out and have a nice evening in the park. We knew it was wrong to go in when it was closed, so you really can’t say we weren’t warned. We were just being stupid, I guess. It was careless of us to go in the water. I know that now.”
“It must have been quite a shock. To be attacked by two alligators.”
“It was.” I took in a deep breath as some of the pictures from the night flashed in front of my eyes. The moonlight in Heather’s eyes, the kiss, the carelessness, the water and then the sounds under the water. The sound of me fighting for my life, the growling sounds from the wild animals. I could still recall the shock from when I was pulled under water. The feeling would haunt me now and then, both in my dreams and while fully awake. The realization that life can be taken away from you in a split second. That you are, in fact, never safe. I had felt safe that night. I had felt peace, but it was taken away from me and it was hard for me to trust life again, to trust that something bad wasn’t going to happen to me in the next second or so.
“Tell me a little about when the alligators attacked you. People always talk about alligators when they think of Florida but we actually seldom have attacks on human beings, so I think people would be interested to know how that felt.”
“Well I guess I didn’t feel much. I was scared of course.”
“Afraid of dying?” she asked and drank of her iced tea. Condensation water from the glass dripped onto the table and left a dark spot on the wood. The sound from the water drops was extremely loud in my head. It was like I had all of a sudden become sensitive to sounds I had never noticed before. It could be water drops, or clocks ticking, a child bouncing a ball somewhere or someone talking even people I couldn't see.
“I guess. I just remember being pulled really hard in my leg and then being under water,” I said and drank as well. I felt my heartbeat under my shirt. I didn’t like talking about this part of my story. It was like it came too close or something. I didn’t like remembering all this and reliving it. I sighed and wiped sweat of my forehead with the palm of my hand.
“I can tell this is difficult for you to talk about. Is that true?” Julie Goldman asked.
I nodded. “It is still very close.”
She smiled like she understood, but I knew she didn’t. In fact, no one seemed to. But how could they? How could they understand that I was changing? That something this big changes a person. How could I expect them to understand my obsession with life after death and
Chapter 9
A week later they called from the paper The St. Augustine Record. They wanted to meet with me at the house and talk to me about the attack.
"A personal interview about the accident," a woman who called herself Julie Goldman said.
With Dr. Kirk’s advice in mind, I allowed them to come and ask a few questions. "But only until I get tired," I said. "Then you have to leave." I still suffered from a weakness that didn’t seem to want to let go of me. I was still in pain from my wounds, and the voices and images constantly flickering in my head left me exhausted.
Julie Goldman was a woman in her late thirties with that efficient look in her eyes that ambitious women often have. She was flanked by an older man with a camera around his neck. We sat in the patio furniture in Mrs. Kirk’s rose garden behind the house, and Maria served us iced tea. She smiled widely before she left us to ourselves.
“So you had only been in Florida one day when this happened?” Julie Goldman asked while the photographer circled us and took pictures from all sides including several close-ups of my bandages. It felt a little intimidating.
“Not even an entire day," I answered. "I had just arrived that same afternoon. Some friends and I just wanted to go out and have a nice evening in the park. We knew it was wrong to go in when it was closed, so you really can’t say we weren’t warned. We were just being stupid, I guess. It was careless of us to go in the water. I know that now.”
“It must have been quite a shock. To be attacked by two alligators.”
“It was.” I took in a deep breath as some of the pictures from the night flashed in front of my eyes. The moonlight in Heather’s eyes, the kiss, the carelessness, the water and then the sounds under the water. The sound of me fighting for my life, the growling sounds from the wild animals. I could still recall the shock from when I was pulled under water. The feeling would haunt me now and then, both in my dreams and while fully awake. The realization that life can be taken away from you in a split second. That you are, in fact, never safe. I had felt safe that night. I had felt peace, but it was taken away from me and it was hard for me to trust life again, to trust that something bad wasn’t going to happen to me in the next second or so.
“Tell me a little about when the alligators attacked you. People always talk about alligators when they think of Florida but we actually seldom have attacks on human beings, so I think people would be interested to know how that felt.”
“Well I guess I didn’t feel much. I was scared of course.”
“Afraid of dying?” she asked and drank of her iced tea. Condensation water from the glass dripped onto the table and left a dark spot on the wood. The sound from the water drops was extremely loud in my head. It was like I had all of a sudden become sensitive to sounds I had never noticed before. It could be water drops, or clocks ticking, a child bouncing a ball somewhere or someone talking even people I couldn't see.
“I guess. I just remember being pulled really hard in my leg and then being under water,” I said and drank as well. I felt my heartbeat under my shirt. I didn’t like talking about this part of my story. It was like it came too close or something. I didn’t like remembering all this and reliving it. I sighed and wiped sweat of my forehead with the palm of my hand.
“I can tell this is difficult for you to talk about. Is that true?” Julie Goldman asked.
I nodded. “It is still very close.”
She smiled like she understood, but I knew she didn’t. In fact, no one seemed to. But how could they? How could they understand that I was changing? That something this big changes a person. How could I expect them to understand my obsession with life after death and
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