Prologue


Before I begin, I must make something known. I am passionately, desperately, perfectly, ardently, and maddeningly in love with Tanya Lindsay. I cannot live without her, just as most cannot live without air.

Our first meeting was a passing glance. There I sat, in the blackest of cells. My face was dirty, my clothes torn and faded, and my soul aching with that which is true and that which is false. The truth, I was imprisoned for a horrible crime I did not commit. A crime that had a punishment worse than death itself. My fear and my tortured soul were my deepest wounds, although no one could see them. I sat with my back against the stone wall. Breathing, blocking out every sound that touched my ears. Every sound, from the man screaming across from me, to the man begging down the hall, flowed like water from one ear, to the next, without reaching any barricade prepared to analyze such sounds. I believed my walls to be impenetrable, that was before I heard her voice in the cell, echoing toward me as she stepped into my view. The guard held a blanket out to her, she took it was a smile and looked around, her bright green eyes absorbing every smell, sound, and sight. I remembered when I were that lucky, to sense everything.

Her hair was a bright red, a color that I had never seen before, and yet it seemed too perfect. I did not even consider who she was to have it. Her eyes fell upon me last, and I was surprised to see recognition in the gaze. Her eyes bore into mine with truth, with sound in it's wake. The guard had rushed off, muttering something that I did not hear. We were alone, it seemed, for nothing but her reached my senses. She looked around before kneeling at my bars. A bright smile lit her face, and emotions that I wasn't sure I recognized brightened her eyes. Her hair fell into her cheeks and I found that I desperately wanted to brush it away, for it was covering her beauty.

"Landon." She whispered her smile bright. I looked confused. How did she know who I was? Why would she speak to me if she did? I was a horrible prisoner. She looked at me further, at the dirt on my face, the blood caked in my dark hair, the bruises and cuts along my body. Her smile wavered and tears almost sprung to her eyes. My confusion turned to utter longing. It did not matter who she was, this angel was holding back tears for me. "Oh Landon, what did they do to you?" she sobbed, reaching through the bars to take my hand. I was shocked at her touch which sent shivers up and down my spine. She brought my hand to her face, cupping it to her cheek. Her eyes closed back tears as she clutched to my fingers.

"Please," My voice sounded shaky, worn, unused, "Please don't cry for such as bitter soul as mine." I was filled with concern and this strange need to protect this girl from everything that might happen to her.

She brought my hand to her mouth and kissed my callused palm softly. Chills rushed across my entire arm and I swallowed hard. "Why is it that you can remain humbled and sweet even in the face of eternal damnation?" Her eyes shown brightly into mine, I never wanted her to look away.

"Who are you?" I asked, edging closer to the bars wanting to be close to her. Her voice gave me hope. Her voice, the only one I could hear, gave me life.

She looked sad, as if the realization that this was our first meeting just came to her. She brought her hand to my cheek, twining it through my hair, and muttered, "I can't tell you, not yet. But soon you will find out for yourself." My face was right at the bars now, her's only inches from mine, and with her words she kissed me,uncaring of my scars and mud caked body. Her fingers knotted in my bloody hair and a fire within my heart erupted with such ferocity that for a moment I had lost my breathe.

She parted, smiling with tears streaming down her cheeks and muttered, "Remember this, Landon, I have always and will always love you. You are forever mine, just as I am forever yours."

The guard returned, screaming in shock at Tanya's closeness and dragging her away from me. I watched as she looked back, a sweet smile across her face. As I sat back down, I allowed, for the first time in months, the sounds to enter my head. For the first time they didn't hurt.

--------

My trial was short, as are all for my circumstances. I was guilty. There was no defense, no jury, just a man prepared to throw me into the pit.

The pit was a gruesome thing, it was black and endless, spanning across half the room. There was nothing covering it, for all who entered would never return. Like a gaping mouth it awaited its dinner, and I shuddered merely to gaze upon it.

"Any last words Landon Grady before you are sentenced to eternal damnation?"

I thought. What words would I say that would never fail to echo in the minds of my prosecutors? Finally I ended with the only words that felt right, "Remember me good fellows, for this will not be our last meeting, and I would hate to introduce myself again." And with a mocking salute, I threw myself into the pit, the air whipping through my hair and my laughter echoing through the endless walls.


Chapter One

I woke to the light shining in my face. It had been months since I had been thrust into a new life, and although I had come to terms with the general culture of this world I was still troubled by the teachings of my past. The pit's power had soaked into me thoroughly, sending me sprawling through history. I must have been in the future now, a strange place called America. the pit's powers were clear, it warped you, first sending you to a place of no time at all, and then speeding it up, spitting you out wherever you fell.

The first few days I had no idea where I was nor what language the people were speaking, but I had learned, and now I was able to live a somewhat normal life.

It was that day, however, that my life was destined to be thrown back into the past. As I walked down the High School hallways, I heard her echoing voice, the only ones that never failed to reach my ears.

With shock, I froze upon seeing her face, smiling as she glided through the masses of people. She saw me watching, she saw my smile, and looked at me as if I were crazy. I walked toward her.

"Hello?" She said, her eyebrows raised.

"You-you don't remember me?" I was shocked, this was the girl who had walked up to me in a cell and had kissed me, telling me that she loved me. Why did she not recognize me now?

"No, I've never seen you before in my life." She said, edging away from me.

"Yes, yes you have, I've seen you...haven't I?" I was confused now, what if everything I thought was real wasn't? What if it was just all apart of the pit's magic? No, no I refuse to believe that. There was no way that that kiss, that kiss...that kiss filled with so much emotion and love could be unreal.

I walked away in confusion, pondering over her forgettfulness. What had she told me? She had remembered me then, repeating my name. She had said that she loved me, and that I was forever hers. Yet she also said that I would find out her name soon.

I walked into History, her voice still echoing in my brain. I sat down, still contemplating what this ment.

She must have known that I would meet her, and yet she doesn't know who I am now. Could this mean that her coming to me in my cell was after this moment in which she first met me? The pit worked in strange ways, and it would not surprise me, but it still bothered me, knowing that she didn't love me yet. Knowing that she didn't know me. I grew angry as I realized I had neglected to find out her name. I'm so stupid! I scolded in my head.

my thoughts were interupted, however, when the speaker turned to life and a dry male voice made his announcement. "Attention ladies and gents, The first creative writing club meeting will be in the English Attic this afternoon, for all those who have a story to tell, please come on up." the speaker died.

I did have a story to tell, I had a very true and yet very unreal story. I shrugged, wondering, what the heck, why not?

After classes I headed up to the English room way in the Attic, unprepared for who waited me there.


Chapter Two

There she sat, staring out the window, awaiting the rest of the group's members. I held my breathe as I froze in the doorway. I was about to run, remembering our conversation that morning, but at that moment she looked up, seeing me standing ten feet away from her.

Her face looked weary. "Um...are you okay? You seemed a little odd this morning."

I coughed, coming up with an explanation quickly. "Oh, I'm sorry. Last summer I met a girl who looked just like you but I neglected to remember her name. I thought you might be her. Apparently not."

She looked at me for a moment as if she saw through me, as if she could reach my soul. But then something changed, as if she had decided to believe me. "Okay. Well, welcome to the Creative Writing Club. I'm president. My name is Tanya and you can friend me on Facebook if you want." She rolled her eyes at the last sentence.

What was Facebook? I had never heard of it in my life. God, I still had a lot to learn.

I nodded and smiled because I was totally lost and I had a feeling that EVERYONE knew what this Facebook was.

"So do you like to write?"

"Yes, I like to tell stories." I nodded, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

"Do you want to sit down?" She asked, noticing my stiff form.

"Oh, okay." I sat in the chair beside her. She brushed back her hair over her shoulder and I was disoriented for a moment by the seductive smell of vanilla.

"Okay, who are you?" She asked, staring at me with her huge green eyes. The same eyes that had gazed at me with so much love. I swallowed hard.

that phrase had haunted my steps. I wasn't anyone here. Nothing I said made me apart of this civilization. I was banished from the one time I belonged, and doomed to never understand things like Facebook. "No on of consequence."

Tanya rolled her eyes. "What's your name, Edgar?"

I was confused, why had she called me Edgar? I thought about the name, and tried to think of famous Edgars. Edgar Allen Poe was the first in my mind, a poet long after my time. He had been a very interesting poet. Maybe that was what she meant. My words, like his, were mysterious and poetic.

"My name is Landon." I said, watching for recognition in her eyes. There was none. Nothing. My heart sunk. She had no idea. She had no idea that in only a few minutes she had captured my heart forever.

A group of laughing students walked in, calling to us with pleasure. "Hey Tanya!"

"Wazzup new dude!"

"Quoth the Raven, nevermore!"

"Dude, that was so lame!"

"Don't talk to Eddie like that Josh! Like you're any better!"

"Shall I compare thee, Isabel, to a summer's day?"

"No you may not."

"Thou art more lovely and more temperate!"

"Aw,give him a chance Izzie!"

"I think not!"

"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And oft' is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd:
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest!"

"SHUT UP JOSH!!!!!"

The entire group screamed the next lines, laughing at 'Izzie's' red face. "So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee!!!!"

Beside me, Tanya called the lines with a bright smile. I laughed. These people were fantastic. I watched as the boy called Josh took Izzie's hand and kissed in softly. The crowd awed and oowed.
Izzie blushed with a large smile across her face.

There were seven people in all, including Tanya and I. They all lined up to introduce themselves with dramatic quotes and their names.

The first boy was gainly with messy blonde hair as if he messed it up a lot while writing, sure enough, he did. His eyes were a bright blue that seemed to challenge the very laws of gravity. "I, dear newbie, am Edgar Allen Michaels. Or Eddie, if you prefer." He bowed, and allowed Josh to walk up.

He was tall with a normal weight, broad shoulders, brown hair and soft brown eyes."I'm Josh Pike, and I go by JJ, JP, Josh, or The Ninja." the crowd behind him moaned.

"No one calls you that!" Eddie called, pretending to look away as
Josh turned to him.

"Heard that Eddie! I will give you a good slice and dice and then see who's making the witty puns, huh?!"

Eddie scoffed. "You blame such a fool as I for such a remark?! I am tortured by such an accusation!"

The next person to introduce themselves was a girl. She was very short with black hair in a high ponytail. Freckles covered her face and bright grey eyes reflected a thoughtful, bright personality. "I'm Jemma Watson." She said, smiling warmly. I smiled back.

The girl behind her was Izzie, and she introduced herself as Isabel Andrews. Her chestnut hair was wild across her back in a curly mass of color. Her bright brown eyes were light and seemed to dance in the light. As she left, she took the hand of her boyfriend, Josh.

The last guy was black haired with blue eyes and a soft spoken manner. He was short and had allowed his hair to grow into his face. "I am Percival McCummber. You can call me Percy though since Percival is a little long." The rest of the guys called Percy over to them, laughing at a joke that was too good to leave someone out of the loop.

A few minutes later, Tanya stood in the front of the room, asking if anyone had anything to read. Jemma stood from her seat next to Percy. Them seemed to be dating as well. The only one single was Tanya, Eddie, and I, it seemed. Everyone's eyes were on the small girl in the front of the class, however, she form seeming to shrink in the background of life. So it seemed, but as she spoke, all doubts fell away like the wind.

"Soft songs whispered for the night's ear alone
reach my ears as I lay in bed, staring and thinking.
My thoughts stretch across endless boundaries and galaxies,
but seem to always fall back to the notes of hope.
A heart's desire and fear, strummed on the soft guitar
reminds me that I am never alone in this world of dreamers.
My eyes close as I listen to the melodies and reminders
of the golden universe and rainbow lifetimes that will forever glisten."

Everyone clapped and hollered. Jemma smiled and went back to her seat. Tanya turned in her seat in front of me, urging me to say something. The others joined in. "Just do improv, speak with your heart." Tanya said, her fingers brushing my hand and making me loose all thoughts as if they had been thrown into a bottomless pit.

I stood in the front. Everyone watched me, waiting. I took a deep breath.

"reminders,
reminders of her kiss, are all that I have left.
She forgot, as time went by, changing and backtracking,
in it's endless sea of interaction and fated meetings.
I hear her voice in the void of the deft and frightened
I hear her voice in the golden summer and springtime
That soft music that echoes without effort ties my heart in knots.
I catch my breathe, thinking about her touch, burning
like fire upon my frozen, beaten figure, my soft, passionate heart.

reminders,
reminders of the uncertain future, hopes, and dreams.
I remember her touch and know I will feel it once more
even if the act burns me to a crisp in the process.
I hear her voice, even when she does not speak aloud
and know that I will once more hear her utter oaths of love to me
and to her, as I should have upon our first meeting,
before all time was blended and thrown out once more into a bowl
I love her, I always have and I always will it seems. Always."

I nodded my head. Everyone around me cheered. "That was awesome!" Josh yelled, standing up. I looked over at Tanya, and found her mouth gaping wide. her eyes sparkled bright. She might not remember, but I knew deep in her heart that she loved me too.


Chapter Three

Walking home that evening was lonely. My feet mechanically swept along, my head low, protecting my face from the bitter wind that blew. All I wanted was her arms around me, her eyes bearing into mine. All I needed was the chance to tell her everything that I saw in her penetrating gaze.

I stumbled up the stairs to my home, seven blocks away from school and pretty much the town's entire population.

After streaming through the pit I had been thrown into this time and place. Well, to be precise I had been thrown into Ms. Windel's cabbages. And there she had found me the next morning, dirty, tortured, and blubbering in Latin.

Ms. Windel's soft old heart had took one look at me and decided that it was about time she had a son. Of course, I wasn't truly her son, but she loved and took care of me like one. She had been the one who taught me English, common customs, and all the schooling I had missed. She had been the one I had told everything to, every last detail.

Walking into the front door, I heard soft classical music playing and a flood of smells filled my nostrils, all different, yet all complimentary to the others in a strange sort of way. I took in the prominent smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, one of the very first twenty first century foods I had ever eaten and by far my favorite. Next came the smaller essences of lasagna, warm tea, and Ms. Windel's perfume, a mixture of lavender and French vanilla.

Upon hearing the door open, Ms. Windel had looked up, a delighted smile across her face. Her wrinkles and white hair could not stop her eyes from sparkling brand new. Like sapphires they welcomed me home without saying a word.

"Hello Landon, darling! How was your day?" She said, her voice lacking the shiver and whithered tone most senior citizens had. It was young and soft, loud yet sweet.

"Decent." I paused. She noticed.

"What's happening? Are you okay?" Mr. Windel took a worried step toward me. Although she had never had any children of her own, she loved me dearly, and when something was wrong she grew scared. Always she feared that my time here was limited. Always I feared the same.

"It's fine." I told her, stopping her in her tracks. She sighed. "it's just," I muttered as I fell into a kitchen chair, "I saw her."

Ms. Windel's head shot straight up from being slouched over prying off the cookies from the cookies pan. "You mean your perfect lover?! sweet and fiery with eyes that bore through your body and touched your heart as you lay awaiting your horrid fate?" Ms. Windel was pretty poetic.

"Yup. Her name is Tanya."

Ms. Windel put a hand to her heart. "Tanya and Landon. uh! I can see it now!" Her eyes reached into the distance, gazing dramatically, it seemed, into the future.

I scoffed. "She doesn't remember."

The spatula Ms. Windel was holding clattered to the floor, resounding the shock at this statement. "Oh," she said after a moment, "that will not be a problem for long, darling. If anything you are a charmer, and with me, she won't stand a chance."

The look of a plan crossed her face. "No." I muttered, "No, I want her to love me for me, not because my strange adopted mother likes to torture people."

Ms. Windel scoffed, hurt. "You thought I intended to hurt her?! No! We'll just have to show her how amazing you are, witch can't be too hard for you, sweetheart. Let's invite her to supper!"

I moaned. "I've only spoken to her twice! I can't just invite her to dinner!"

"You're right, that would seem strange..." Ms. Windel thought as she scooped a slice of lasagna for me, and then another for her. As we sat to supper she continued to plot.

"Darling, maybe you could I don't know, 'accidentally' call her and thinking it was your 'grandmother' you tell her you love her."

My eyebrows shot out of my head. "Nice." I scoffed, smirking into my plate.

That night I dreamed of my life. My old life that is.

I lay in the orchard, watching the grapes slowly riping, it seemed. I was clean and happy, with pain lifetimes away it seemed. I worked in the morning with my father and older brother, Benito. In the afternoons we were able to have some time for relaxation. While Benito lost himself within the house, I would gaze in wonder at my world, the Italian sun ripening my grapes, the wind rustling my hair, the earth keeping my body firmly on the ground, no matter how high my imagination might take me. I loved my time in the orchards, just awaiting something marvelous to happen.

my legs lay outstretched, my arms folded behind my head. I was home. I knew who I was then. I believed time to be going in one direction.


Chapter Four

Like most days, I woke with a tang of despair, the realization that my home was lost forever causing a bad taste to smother my tongue. Rolling out of bed I brushed my teeth in the bathroom down the hall, glaring at the yellow paint staining the walls.

I hated Tuesdays. They were my least favorite days of the entire week. The weekend still lingers upon your lips and yet Saturday is so far away it hurts. You know what's coming, for Monday is too close to forget, and with a pang of sadness you see that you're not even in the middle of the week.

Stuttering down stairs a half hour later dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt, I sat to breakfast. That is, a Pop Tart. Nothing special from my devoted guardian. She was still sound asleep, wasting her old days away in slumber. I envied her perfect ten hours of sleep.

Leaving the house early, I shifted my backpack against my shoulder. I hadn't been able to understand the methods of driving yet, although I was already sixteen, so I walked. I can't say that I didn't enjoy the path, however, it allowed to the time to absorb the drowsiness of the morning.

coming into school that day I watched as Tanya and the rest of the Creative Writing Club hoped up the steps, laughing their way into Middletown Prep. I had to catch my breathe. Her red hair was shimmering in the sun light and the navy blue sweater she wore brightened it's color, contradicting in a beautiful way.

my breathe was lost, and for a moment I had to remind myself that this might be the same girl who had kissed me in prison, but she was lost, her memory unformed when it came to me.

For the most part, I didn't see her that day. We only shared History together, and though I sat near her, I strayed a safe distance away as well, afraid of slipping.

The Creative Writing Club only met on Mondays and Fridays, so there was no way I could see her after school. I needed to find a way to be with her. It was crazy, but I needed to be with her, she made me stronger.

Everyday was filled with indecision, and every night was filled with choices.

When Friday finally came I was ready, I was going to make up a plan to meet her.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.04.2011

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For those who refuse to be forgotten