Bound
Chavie - January 27, 2006
Part 1
Mama was hanging the laundry out to dry, and Chavie was running
through it. The clothes and blankets flapped in a gust of wind;
Chavie was engulfed in a sea of soft dampness. She laughed and
pretended to paw her way out. She didn't really want to leave. It
was just fun to pretend, and to feel the linen slap against her
face.
But the wind died down, and the laundry stopped moving so much.
Chavie pushed her way out and went up to Mama, who was frowning
and trying to fix a skirt that had fallen to the ground. She
tugged on Mama's dress. "Whadderdoin?"
"Use real words, dearheart."
The sun was shining down through Mama's hair. Chavie squinted up
at it until she was sure it had burned dots into her vision. She
looked at the ground and tried to catch the sun-dots with her
hands.
"You're in one of your moods again, aren't you?" Mama asked.
"No, Mama--what mood, Mama?" Chavie tried stomping on the dark
dancing dots.
<Stop! That's not your mother--that's my mother!>
Oh, the fake Chavie had woken up. That stupid girl who thought
she owned Chavie's body. Be quiet, Chavie thought at
other-Chavie, anti-Chavie. I'm busy.
<You're horrible! Get out of my head!>
Chavie sighed. She had to get fake-Chavie to be quiet long enough
so she could enjoy the sunny, windy day, with Mama doing laundry
and the clothes flapping like wings on the line. So she ran out
into the open, laughing as loud as she could make herself laugh.
She started spinning, her arms were spread out wide. She thought
if another gust of wind came, it might sweep her up and she could
glide on it for a while. Maybe not, but it would be nice anyway.
<You're going to get my dress dirty again! You're going to make
Mother think I'm crazy!>
Find a different person to haunt, Chavie thought irritably at the
non-Chavie. She squinted up at the sky. A flock of birds flew
overhead.
<No, you! I was here first!>
Chavie smiled at the birds. Were not.
<Were too!>
Notnotnot. Chavie stopped spinning and looked back towards her
house. It was pretty far away. Mama had just noticed how far
Chavie had gone, and was running towards her, looking panicked.
Chavie smiled and waved, trying not to laugh.
"Chavie!" Mama stopped, doubled over, breathing hard. "Chavie,
don't do that. It's not safe out here. One of these days..."
A sudden gust of--not wind. Willpower. Un-Chavie had caught
Chavie off-guard, had dethroned her. Chavie was sinking into
darkness... Mama's words were fading... And she had had such fun
today, too...
Relieved, the real Chavie--known formally as Sabine, "Chavie"
being a silly nickname from her brother--smoothed out her skirt.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I'm not feeling well." She tried to keep the
tremble out of her voice. She was usually so good at keeping The
Intruder from taking control, but today she had slipped. It tore
at her heart, having to keep this secret. She wanted to a be a
priest when she grew up. Who would let her if they knew she had
a... a something inside her, taking control of her body
sometimes? The Intruder had even taken Sabine's nickname from
her--now Sabine couldn't think of herself as "Chavie" anymore.
Even though everyone called her Chavie still, half the time...
Sabine took her mother's hand and walked with her back to the
house, enduring a long-winded scolding for something Sabine
didn't even do.
"Are you shaking, dear?" Mother asked.
"I'm just a little cold, Mother..."
The Intruder spoke. <Stupidstupid hate you hate you, die die die
and leave me alone! You're not fair, you're never fair! It's my
body, not yours...>
Sabine felt like she was going to be sick. She ignored the
taunting as best as she could until she was inside. She told
Mother she would be all right, and went to her room to practice
her embroidery. She kept pricking her fingers. Each time she did,
The Intruder would laugh.
<Serves you right, you little blight, you little wight you
unsightly wretch.>
Stop picking on me!
<Treat me kindly and I'll treat you kindly, thank you kindly. I
tried being your friend, I really did like you-->
Sabine mustered all the willpower she could and forced the thing
in her head to be quiet. She had to set aside her embroidery. She
was afraid to stain it. She balled her hands into fists, hoping
both to put pressure on the little pricks and to keep from
staining anything. Then she went back downstairs to watch Mother
through the window.
The rest of the day passed by calmly, without interference from
the other girl who said she was the real Chavie. But as she was
going to sleep that night, Sabine thought she heard something
whisper in her ear: You can't lock me up forever.
Bound by Chavie
-
Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: Bound by Chavie
Part 2
Years passed. Chavie was lucky to get a couple hours each week.
Anti-Chavie kept getting better at keeping Chavie locked up
inside... Once, at least a whole year went by while Chavie was
unconscious. They were twelve when it happened. When Chavie woke
up, her body was already changing into a woman. She was so hurt,
and furious that she had been kept away for so long.
When she came to, she was sitting in a bed in a plain white
nightgown. Her dark brown hair was almost to her waist. The sun
was barely coming up. She felt Anti-Chavie stir, and feel
surprised, and try to take control--but no. Such a long time had
gone by. She wasn't about to let this selfish little priss-priss
shut her down again!
Chavie squeezed her eyes shut , took a deep breath, clutched the
bedclothes, and screamed. She focused all her will on being the
sole possessor of her body, of being the only person thinking and
feeling. She shut Anti-Chavie out. She stopped screaming when she
ran out of breath. Wheezing, she could hear footsteps pounding up
the stairs. Her mind raced for an explanation.
"Chavie!" her mother gasped as she barged into the room. "What's
wrong?"
"I saw a spider," Chavie said. She was trembling a little, she
was so mad... "A big hairy one."
Mama sighed. "Oh by the Light, Chavie... I mean, Sabine." Mama
rolled her eyes a little. Sometimes Anti-Chavie wanted to be
called Sabine. Stupid. "It won't bother you if you don't bother
it. You're already up, so get dressed and come downstairs." And
she left, shutting the door behind her.
Chavie breathed deeply for a little while, then swung her feet
over the edge of the bed. Her toes touched soft woolen slippers
and she rolled her eyes. This habitual way of getting out of bed
and instantly putting on slippers was so Anti-Chavie. She liked
not having to hunt for her slippers, it made her perfectly
scheduled day all the more perfectly scheduled. Chavie kicked the
slippers aside and padded to the window to check her reflection.
A whole year. She was thirteen now. She even had a pimple, one
that the un-Chavie couldn't be rid of. And her hair... too long,
much too long.
There was a table beside the bed, and there were sewing scissors
on it. Chavie grinned and stepped over to them, picked them up.
"Dear Non-Chavie," she muttered, opening and closing the
scissors. "You like my hair so much I thought I'd put it in a
special box for you." She sat on the bed and began hacking
visciously at her hair, humming a child's nursery rhyme to
herself. She couldn't remember the words to the little tune. She
cut the hair ragged and uneven, and the longest parts were just
barely to her shoulders. The clumps of hair fell like the body
parts of a traitor being dismembered. She imagined she could hear
them screaming.
When she was done, she shook her head, like a dog. Then she began
gathering the hair up.
"Sabine, your breakfast is getting cold!" her mother called up
the stairs.
Oh, right.
The hair could stay where it was. Chavie stripped her nightgown
off and tossed it to the corner. She looked down at her body,
poked at her little breasts. Well. There was no helping it. She
rummaged through the wardrobe and got dressed.
As she did, she reviewed Anti-Chavie's memories. Chavie's father
still hadn't been heard from and no one knew where he was. Chavie
didn't care because she never really got to talk to him anyway,
since he was gone whenever Anti-Chavie let her out. Her older
brother was doing all right on his farm out west. And something
bad was going to happen in Lordaeron. That wasn't a memory, but
Chavie could feel it. Like she could feel the ghost of the
kitty-thing that had followed Anti-Chavie and Chavie around since
they were seven.
Also, there was a boy. Jack Dresden. He wanted to be a
demonologist. He was very handsome, in a small village sort of
way, and had stolen a kiss from Anti-Chavie that she had hit him
for, though she later fantasized about it over and over...
blergh. Also, he called her Sabine, too, which wasn't even their
real name. Brother Ellesly always called Chavie "Chavie", ever
since forever.
Chavie didn't brush her hair. She went right down to breakfast,
moving sluggishly, letting her shoulder and the side of her head
slide along the rough wood of the stairwell. Letting her feet
clomp on each stair. Absorbing the sensations, feeling alive. She
was a little shy about seeing Mama after a year. What if Mama
liked the fake Chavie better?
She reached the bottom step.
"Oh sweetie, there you are--" Mama's face froze. She was
confused. And appalled. It was kind of funny. "What did you do to
your hair?"
Chavie laughed and ran to Mama, threw her arms around her and
hugged her good and tight. "I missed you! Do you like it? I
think--I think it will be the latest style!" Chavie pulled away
and twirled, to show it off. "Wha's for breakfas?"
"Sabine...?"
"Yes Mama?" Chavie sat at the table. "Eggs!"
Mama sat down across the table from her. She looked so worried.
Chavie reached over and patted Mama's hand. "It's okay, Mama, I'm
fine. I never ever have felt better." That was a lie. She was
still pissed at the fake Chavie. "Thank you for the breakfast,
it's oh-so-yummy, I know it." She began shoveling the food into
her mouth.
"Um." Mama reached over and felt Chavie's forehead. Chavie
grinned at her, trying to keep her mouth shut so chewed-up food
wouldn't show.
"I'm okay, Mama. Really."
And somewhere deep inside, she could feel the faintest of wails
from un-Chavie. She grinned and stopped paying attention to it.
Out of mind, out of sight, right?
Years passed. Chavie was lucky to get a couple hours each week.
Anti-Chavie kept getting better at keeping Chavie locked up
inside... Once, at least a whole year went by while Chavie was
unconscious. They were twelve when it happened. When Chavie woke
up, her body was already changing into a woman. She was so hurt,
and furious that she had been kept away for so long.
When she came to, she was sitting in a bed in a plain white
nightgown. Her dark brown hair was almost to her waist. The sun
was barely coming up. She felt Anti-Chavie stir, and feel
surprised, and try to take control--but no. Such a long time had
gone by. She wasn't about to let this selfish little priss-priss
shut her down again!
Chavie squeezed her eyes shut , took a deep breath, clutched the
bedclothes, and screamed. She focused all her will on being the
sole possessor of her body, of being the only person thinking and
feeling. She shut Anti-Chavie out. She stopped screaming when she
ran out of breath. Wheezing, she could hear footsteps pounding up
the stairs. Her mind raced for an explanation.
"Chavie!" her mother gasped as she barged into the room. "What's
wrong?"
"I saw a spider," Chavie said. She was trembling a little, she
was so mad... "A big hairy one."
Mama sighed. "Oh by the Light, Chavie... I mean, Sabine." Mama
rolled her eyes a little. Sometimes Anti-Chavie wanted to be
called Sabine. Stupid. "It won't bother you if you don't bother
it. You're already up, so get dressed and come downstairs." And
she left, shutting the door behind her.
Chavie breathed deeply for a little while, then swung her feet
over the edge of the bed. Her toes touched soft woolen slippers
and she rolled her eyes. This habitual way of getting out of bed
and instantly putting on slippers was so Anti-Chavie. She liked
not having to hunt for her slippers, it made her perfectly
scheduled day all the more perfectly scheduled. Chavie kicked the
slippers aside and padded to the window to check her reflection.
A whole year. She was thirteen now. She even had a pimple, one
that the un-Chavie couldn't be rid of. And her hair... too long,
much too long.
There was a table beside the bed, and there were sewing scissors
on it. Chavie grinned and stepped over to them, picked them up.
"Dear Non-Chavie," she muttered, opening and closing the
scissors. "You like my hair so much I thought I'd put it in a
special box for you." She sat on the bed and began hacking
visciously at her hair, humming a child's nursery rhyme to
herself. She couldn't remember the words to the little tune. She
cut the hair ragged and uneven, and the longest parts were just
barely to her shoulders. The clumps of hair fell like the body
parts of a traitor being dismembered. She imagined she could hear
them screaming.
When she was done, she shook her head, like a dog. Then she began
gathering the hair up.
"Sabine, your breakfast is getting cold!" her mother called up
the stairs.
Oh, right.
The hair could stay where it was. Chavie stripped her nightgown
off and tossed it to the corner. She looked down at her body,
poked at her little breasts. Well. There was no helping it. She
rummaged through the wardrobe and got dressed.
As she did, she reviewed Anti-Chavie's memories. Chavie's father
still hadn't been heard from and no one knew where he was. Chavie
didn't care because she never really got to talk to him anyway,
since he was gone whenever Anti-Chavie let her out. Her older
brother was doing all right on his farm out west. And something
bad was going to happen in Lordaeron. That wasn't a memory, but
Chavie could feel it. Like she could feel the ghost of the
kitty-thing that had followed Anti-Chavie and Chavie around since
they were seven.
Also, there was a boy. Jack Dresden. He wanted to be a
demonologist. He was very handsome, in a small village sort of
way, and had stolen a kiss from Anti-Chavie that she had hit him
for, though she later fantasized about it over and over...
blergh. Also, he called her Sabine, too, which wasn't even their
real name. Brother Ellesly always called Chavie "Chavie", ever
since forever.
Chavie didn't brush her hair. She went right down to breakfast,
moving sluggishly, letting her shoulder and the side of her head
slide along the rough wood of the stairwell. Letting her feet
clomp on each stair. Absorbing the sensations, feeling alive. She
was a little shy about seeing Mama after a year. What if Mama
liked the fake Chavie better?
She reached the bottom step.
"Oh sweetie, there you are--" Mama's face froze. She was
confused. And appalled. It was kind of funny. "What did you do to
your hair?"
Chavie laughed and ran to Mama, threw her arms around her and
hugged her good and tight. "I missed you! Do you like it? I
think--I think it will be the latest style!" Chavie pulled away
and twirled, to show it off. "Wha's for breakfas?"
"Sabine...?"
"Yes Mama?" Chavie sat at the table. "Eggs!"
Mama sat down across the table from her. She looked so worried.
Chavie reached over and patted Mama's hand. "It's okay, Mama, I'm
fine. I never ever have felt better." That was a lie. She was
still pissed at the fake Chavie. "Thank you for the breakfast,
it's oh-so-yummy, I know it." She began shoveling the food into
her mouth.
"Um." Mama reached over and felt Chavie's forehead. Chavie
grinned at her, trying to keep her mouth shut so chewed-up food
wouldn't show.
"I'm okay, Mama. Really."
And somewhere deep inside, she could feel the faintest of wails
from un-Chavie. She grinned and stopped paying attention to it.
Out of mind, out of sight, right?
-
Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: Bound by Chavie
Part 3
It was a cool, windy day, and kind of cloudy. Sabine and Jack
were having a stroll around the woods. Not too far from home, of
course. Sabine was cold, but she hadn't seen Jack in several
days, and they had only recently gotten back together, so she
tried to will herself warm. She wondered if she should risk
holding his hand. Surely that would not seem too forward? The
very thought made her pulse quicken. She stole a glance at Jack.
He was, in her opinion, quite handsome. He wasn't too tall, but
he was lean and mostly clear-skinned, with dark unruly hair and a
perpetual half-smirk, and a little cleft in his chin. A literary
hero in the making, Sabine thought. He was even a bit of a rebel,
and had a dangerous obsession with the dark things of the world.
That had been the main cause of their split... That and Sabine
was cutting herself off from people lately as The Intruder grew
stronger. But she and Jack had reunited. She couldn't help
it--she loved Jack. It was much, much too lonely without him...
Suddenly Sabine realized where he was leading her. "Oh, no, Jack,
not the 'graveyard' again..." She sighed and stopped walking.
"What?" he asked. "I thought you said you wanted to see it."
"There's nothing to see." Sabine's hand went up to her bun,
making sure it was still in place, or at least as in place as she
could make it in the midst of all this wind. She'd had to keep
her hair up, even in this cold, ever since the Intruder had
chopped a great chunk of hair off again. Not as horribly as she
did two years ago when Sabine was thirteen, but nonetheless, it
didn't look right hanging loose anymore. She didn't look like
herself.
Jack grinned and took Sabine's arm in his, trying to force her,
playfully, to walk further. "That's not what you said the other
day."
"Oh. Well." Sabine wrenched her arm away from Jack's and,
clutching the front of her cloak, turned and began walking the
opposite direction. The Intruder had been out with Jack the other
day. Briefly, but long enough to blab to Jack about the paranoid
feelings Sabine got when she entered the small clearing in the
wood. And Jack, of course, had taken her seriously. "I was just
playing around."
"Hey." He didn't follow her. Sabine wished he would; she would
feel silly just walking away with him staring at her back. After
an awkward pause he said, "Then let the other Chavie come out and
show me."
Sabine stopped walking. The blood rushed to her face so fast she
could hear it. "What nonsense are you talking about now, Jack?"
"Oh, only the fact that you're either possessed or crazy, or a
really good actress." She could hear him jogging up to her. "You
know, how you suddenly change into a different person for a
couple of hours... do things you wouldn't normally do..." Before
she knew what he was doing, Jack had grabbed her arm and was
pushing her sleeve up to reveal a healing burn mark. "Like pour
hot wax on your arm because 'it makes you feel so much alive'."
He had imitated the Intruder's vocal inflection almost perfectly.
Feeling angry, and horribly ashamed, Sabine once again wrenched
her arm free of him. "I don't appreciate your violence, Jack.
And... it frightens me." She pulled her cloak tighter around her
shoulders and began walking again. The Intruder was waking up,
and Sabine could feel little waves of amusement coming from her.
It made this all the more worse.
"Don't change the subject. Please. I want to talk to you about
this." He paused, then added, sounding almost helpless, "I won't
grab at you again, I promise."
"What's there to say?" Sabine blinked rapidly, fighting back
tears. "You're right." She stopped walking and let her hands rise
and fall in a helpless shrug. "I'm possessed. I'll never be a
priest of the Light, and I'll never have a normal..." She
swallowed. She wanted to go on, but couldn't, not without
bursting into tears. She had dreamed of telling Jack about this,
but... after almost a lifetime of trying to keep it a secret, it
wasn't so easy to let go, not even to the boy she loved.
"No--shit, don't cry." He pulled her close and hugged her. "It's
not so bad." Sabine laughed bitterly, nuzzling her face into his
shoulder. "You're not possessed by some demon from the Nether or
anything horrible like that." He kissed the top of her head, and
rubbed her back. It was the closest physical contact they'd ever
had, but Sabine couldn't enjoy it. She was too busy wishing she
was dead. "You're too pretty to be an orc," he whispered to her.
Sabine pulled away gently, and rubbed her eyes. Her nose was
runny; she sniffed as discreetly as she could. "Well, what, then,
Dark Mage Dresden?"
"How should I know? You think my father lets me study this? He
seems to think the Nether is a joke or else too evil to think
about. As if we can make it go away by pretending it's not
there."
That brought about the usual feeling of dread within Sabine, the
paranoid suspicion that something evil was in the air, watching
her... She had to change the subject. "I... I've thought about
going to a priest, in a bigger town, and asking... to be
cleansed, somehow." She tried to keep her voice even, and looked
around the wood, keeping her gaze anywhere but on Jack. "But I've
been afraid that, um." She chewed on her lower lip. "I've just
been afraid." I'm still afraid, she thought.
"I want to talk to her," Jack said.
"No!"
"Do you want me to help or not?" He sounded annoyed.
Sabine shook her head. "I can't believe I'm having this
conversation."
<Kitty kitty kitty,> whispered The Intruder in her mind. Sabine
felt something icy cold brush her ankles. Like a kitten might, if
it wanted attention. She shivered and stepped away from that
spot.
"Let me talk to her. Not now," he quickly added. "I'll let you
think about it. But I think that, if I talk to her... I'll be
able to figure something out."
<Let me play with our cat.>
Shut up. We've never had a cat.
<What's that there, then? At your feet?>
I'm trying to think!
Sabine resisted the impulse to put her hands over her ears to
shut out The Intruder's voice. It wasn't even a voice; it wasn't
audible. It was a foreign thought, coming from within her own
mind, directed her way. Difficult to be rid of. "All right," she
said to Jack. "I'll think about it. I don't want to talk about
this anymore right now." Talking about The Intruder just made her
more awake and aware.
"As you wish."
The stood around for a few moments.
"I'd better be going home," said Sabine. Trying to sound ladylike
and dignified.
"I'll walk you there," Jack said. She linked her arm in his and
they walked back to Sabine's house in silence. They said their
goodbyes on the doorstep, and kissed each other lightly. Sabine
knew he'd like to go further in the physical aspect of their
relationship, but she wasn't ready, and she rather liked knowing
he was there for her, not her body. She went into the house and
hurried upstairs before her mother could pester her.
<Ooh! Do I have a date, Fake Chavie-Jailor?>
No. Sabine noticed a knife lying on her bedside table. She picked
it up and tried to ignore the Intruder's longing to slice at
Sabine. When Sabine was thirteen, after a year in which she
thought she'd banished the thing inside her, the Intruder came
back and had starting hurting Sabine physically. It was one of
the reasons Sabine suspected her little demon, or whatever it
was, wasn't human. It didn't even care about the pain. It...
seemed to enjoy it.
Sabine took the knife downstairs, and met her mother, who was
using a corner of her skirt to scrub at the face of Ellesly Jr.,
Sabine's little nephew. Mother was looking after Ellesly's
children while Ellesly took care of his sick wife. Sabine hung
the knife back up on its peg on the wall just as Mother noticed
her.
"Oh, good, you're back. I think Brella's soiled her diaper, can
you take care of that?"
"Yes, Mother."
Through the rest of the day, Sabine relived her little talk with
Jack. She wished it could have gone better. At least he didn't
think she was horrible and evil... Maybe it wouldn't hurt too
much to let the Intruder out, just long enough to talk to Jack.
Far away from sharp objects and flame, preferably. But first,
she'd have to talk to Jack herself, about what was going on with
The Intruder, and possibly what was going on with... other
things. The other things she didn't like to think about.
It was a cool, windy day, and kind of cloudy. Sabine and Jack
were having a stroll around the woods. Not too far from home, of
course. Sabine was cold, but she hadn't seen Jack in several
days, and they had only recently gotten back together, so she
tried to will herself warm. She wondered if she should risk
holding his hand. Surely that would not seem too forward? The
very thought made her pulse quicken. She stole a glance at Jack.
He was, in her opinion, quite handsome. He wasn't too tall, but
he was lean and mostly clear-skinned, with dark unruly hair and a
perpetual half-smirk, and a little cleft in his chin. A literary
hero in the making, Sabine thought. He was even a bit of a rebel,
and had a dangerous obsession with the dark things of the world.
That had been the main cause of their split... That and Sabine
was cutting herself off from people lately as The Intruder grew
stronger. But she and Jack had reunited. She couldn't help
it--she loved Jack. It was much, much too lonely without him...
Suddenly Sabine realized where he was leading her. "Oh, no, Jack,
not the 'graveyard' again..." She sighed and stopped walking.
"What?" he asked. "I thought you said you wanted to see it."
"There's nothing to see." Sabine's hand went up to her bun,
making sure it was still in place, or at least as in place as she
could make it in the midst of all this wind. She'd had to keep
her hair up, even in this cold, ever since the Intruder had
chopped a great chunk of hair off again. Not as horribly as she
did two years ago when Sabine was thirteen, but nonetheless, it
didn't look right hanging loose anymore. She didn't look like
herself.
Jack grinned and took Sabine's arm in his, trying to force her,
playfully, to walk further. "That's not what you said the other
day."
"Oh. Well." Sabine wrenched her arm away from Jack's and,
clutching the front of her cloak, turned and began walking the
opposite direction. The Intruder had been out with Jack the other
day. Briefly, but long enough to blab to Jack about the paranoid
feelings Sabine got when she entered the small clearing in the
wood. And Jack, of course, had taken her seriously. "I was just
playing around."
"Hey." He didn't follow her. Sabine wished he would; she would
feel silly just walking away with him staring at her back. After
an awkward pause he said, "Then let the other Chavie come out and
show me."
Sabine stopped walking. The blood rushed to her face so fast she
could hear it. "What nonsense are you talking about now, Jack?"
"Oh, only the fact that you're either possessed or crazy, or a
really good actress." She could hear him jogging up to her. "You
know, how you suddenly change into a different person for a
couple of hours... do things you wouldn't normally do..." Before
she knew what he was doing, Jack had grabbed her arm and was
pushing her sleeve up to reveal a healing burn mark. "Like pour
hot wax on your arm because 'it makes you feel so much alive'."
He had imitated the Intruder's vocal inflection almost perfectly.
Feeling angry, and horribly ashamed, Sabine once again wrenched
her arm free of him. "I don't appreciate your violence, Jack.
And... it frightens me." She pulled her cloak tighter around her
shoulders and began walking again. The Intruder was waking up,
and Sabine could feel little waves of amusement coming from her.
It made this all the more worse.
"Don't change the subject. Please. I want to talk to you about
this." He paused, then added, sounding almost helpless, "I won't
grab at you again, I promise."
"What's there to say?" Sabine blinked rapidly, fighting back
tears. "You're right." She stopped walking and let her hands rise
and fall in a helpless shrug. "I'm possessed. I'll never be a
priest of the Light, and I'll never have a normal..." She
swallowed. She wanted to go on, but couldn't, not without
bursting into tears. She had dreamed of telling Jack about this,
but... after almost a lifetime of trying to keep it a secret, it
wasn't so easy to let go, not even to the boy she loved.
"No--shit, don't cry." He pulled her close and hugged her. "It's
not so bad." Sabine laughed bitterly, nuzzling her face into his
shoulder. "You're not possessed by some demon from the Nether or
anything horrible like that." He kissed the top of her head, and
rubbed her back. It was the closest physical contact they'd ever
had, but Sabine couldn't enjoy it. She was too busy wishing she
was dead. "You're too pretty to be an orc," he whispered to her.
Sabine pulled away gently, and rubbed her eyes. Her nose was
runny; she sniffed as discreetly as she could. "Well, what, then,
Dark Mage Dresden?"
"How should I know? You think my father lets me study this? He
seems to think the Nether is a joke or else too evil to think
about. As if we can make it go away by pretending it's not
there."
That brought about the usual feeling of dread within Sabine, the
paranoid suspicion that something evil was in the air, watching
her... She had to change the subject. "I... I've thought about
going to a priest, in a bigger town, and asking... to be
cleansed, somehow." She tried to keep her voice even, and looked
around the wood, keeping her gaze anywhere but on Jack. "But I've
been afraid that, um." She chewed on her lower lip. "I've just
been afraid." I'm still afraid, she thought.
"I want to talk to her," Jack said.
"No!"
"Do you want me to help or not?" He sounded annoyed.
Sabine shook her head. "I can't believe I'm having this
conversation."
<Kitty kitty kitty,> whispered The Intruder in her mind. Sabine
felt something icy cold brush her ankles. Like a kitten might, if
it wanted attention. She shivered and stepped away from that
spot.
"Let me talk to her. Not now," he quickly added. "I'll let you
think about it. But I think that, if I talk to her... I'll be
able to figure something out."
<Let me play with our cat.>
Shut up. We've never had a cat.
<What's that there, then? At your feet?>
I'm trying to think!
Sabine resisted the impulse to put her hands over her ears to
shut out The Intruder's voice. It wasn't even a voice; it wasn't
audible. It was a foreign thought, coming from within her own
mind, directed her way. Difficult to be rid of. "All right," she
said to Jack. "I'll think about it. I don't want to talk about
this anymore right now." Talking about The Intruder just made her
more awake and aware.
"As you wish."
The stood around for a few moments.
"I'd better be going home," said Sabine. Trying to sound ladylike
and dignified.
"I'll walk you there," Jack said. She linked her arm in his and
they walked back to Sabine's house in silence. They said their
goodbyes on the doorstep, and kissed each other lightly. Sabine
knew he'd like to go further in the physical aspect of their
relationship, but she wasn't ready, and she rather liked knowing
he was there for her, not her body. She went into the house and
hurried upstairs before her mother could pester her.
<Ooh! Do I have a date, Fake Chavie-Jailor?>
No. Sabine noticed a knife lying on her bedside table. She picked
it up and tried to ignore the Intruder's longing to slice at
Sabine. When Sabine was thirteen, after a year in which she
thought she'd banished the thing inside her, the Intruder came
back and had starting hurting Sabine physically. It was one of
the reasons Sabine suspected her little demon, or whatever it
was, wasn't human. It didn't even care about the pain. It...
seemed to enjoy it.
Sabine took the knife downstairs, and met her mother, who was
using a corner of her skirt to scrub at the face of Ellesly Jr.,
Sabine's little nephew. Mother was looking after Ellesly's
children while Ellesly took care of his sick wife. Sabine hung
the knife back up on its peg on the wall just as Mother noticed
her.
"Oh, good, you're back. I think Brella's soiled her diaper, can
you take care of that?"
"Yes, Mother."
Through the rest of the day, Sabine relived her little talk with
Jack. She wished it could have gone better. At least he didn't
think she was horrible and evil... Maybe it wouldn't hurt too
much to let the Intruder out, just long enough to talk to Jack.
Far away from sharp objects and flame, preferably. But first,
she'd have to talk to Jack herself, about what was going on with
The Intruder, and possibly what was going on with... other
things. The other things she didn't like to think about.
-
Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: Bound by Chavie
Part 4
In the middle of a conversation Jack was having with Fake Chavie
the very next day, the real Chavie popped up. "So do you want to
see the graveyard now?" She began skipping along towards the
woods.
"What? I thought you..." Chavie grinned as Jack's voice trailed
off. She looked up through the treebranches at the sky. Cloudy
cloudy cloudy. "Hey. Let me talk to Sabine."
"You said you wanted to talk to me." Chavie stopped and turned to
face Jack, putting her hands on her hips. "And you should know
that no one calls me Sabine anymore."
"No one knows what to call you." Jack approached Chavie
carefully. Did he really think she was some kind of demon? Funny!
"Now, come on. I was talking to my girlfriend."
Chavie smiled at him. "She's away right now. Come on, I want to
show you the graveyard! I'm pretty sure there's dead people under
there and that's why the trees don't grow and--"
"I said let me talk to Sabine!"
Hmm. Chavie narrowed her eyes at him. "If you're going to be like
that, mister..." Chavie spun on her heel and, head held high,
began marching away. "I'll just go by myself!" She began undoing
her hair. What was with the bun, anyway--did Fake Chavie think
she was some kind of old spinster? Well, the un-Chavie was going
to be a tailor, like Mama, but that was different from being a
spinster... right? Chavie slowed, trying to figure it out.
Suddenly Jack came up behind her and grabbed her arms as she was
letting her hair down. Startled, she tried to bolt away, but he
pinned her arms to her sides and held her close to him.
Restraining her. She twisted her head around to bite at him, and
he brought one arm up around her neck and pressed it tight. She
thrashed her head side to side, trying to wriggle free. "Let me
go! Let go of me!"
He hissed into her ear, "I will gladly talk to you later--if
Sabine agrees. You will let her out, or else." And his arm around
her throat tightened, making her choke. She worried for a moment
that he might strangle her right there, then she realized
something. Something very, very funny.
Chavie grinned and slipped away, letting Anti-Chavie come back
up. She only half paid attention to Jack's apologizing and the
fake Chavie's whimpering. She nestled deep down, curling up
around this little bit of treasure she'd found: Jack was
naturally violent. He suppressed it for his girlfriend. But he
wasn't afraid to--and he enjoyed, she knew it--he could and would
hurt his girlfriend's body if he had a good enough excuse.
Anti-Chavie's soft dainty skin would be bruised for a while, and
it wasn't even Chavie's doing this time.
It was around this moment that Chavie fell in love.
In the middle of a conversation Jack was having with Fake Chavie
the very next day, the real Chavie popped up. "So do you want to
see the graveyard now?" She began skipping along towards the
woods.
"What? I thought you..." Chavie grinned as Jack's voice trailed
off. She looked up through the treebranches at the sky. Cloudy
cloudy cloudy. "Hey. Let me talk to Sabine."
"You said you wanted to talk to me." Chavie stopped and turned to
face Jack, putting her hands on her hips. "And you should know
that no one calls me Sabine anymore."
"No one knows what to call you." Jack approached Chavie
carefully. Did he really think she was some kind of demon? Funny!
"Now, come on. I was talking to my girlfriend."
Chavie smiled at him. "She's away right now. Come on, I want to
show you the graveyard! I'm pretty sure there's dead people under
there and that's why the trees don't grow and--"
"I said let me talk to Sabine!"
Hmm. Chavie narrowed her eyes at him. "If you're going to be like
that, mister..." Chavie spun on her heel and, head held high,
began marching away. "I'll just go by myself!" She began undoing
her hair. What was with the bun, anyway--did Fake Chavie think
she was some kind of old spinster? Well, the un-Chavie was going
to be a tailor, like Mama, but that was different from being a
spinster... right? Chavie slowed, trying to figure it out.
Suddenly Jack came up behind her and grabbed her arms as she was
letting her hair down. Startled, she tried to bolt away, but he
pinned her arms to her sides and held her close to him.
Restraining her. She twisted her head around to bite at him, and
he brought one arm up around her neck and pressed it tight. She
thrashed her head side to side, trying to wriggle free. "Let me
go! Let go of me!"
He hissed into her ear, "I will gladly talk to you later--if
Sabine agrees. You will let her out, or else." And his arm around
her throat tightened, making her choke. She worried for a moment
that he might strangle her right there, then she realized
something. Something very, very funny.
Chavie grinned and slipped away, letting Anti-Chavie come back
up. She only half paid attention to Jack's apologizing and the
fake Chavie's whimpering. She nestled deep down, curling up
around this little bit of treasure she'd found: Jack was
naturally violent. He suppressed it for his girlfriend. But he
wasn't afraid to--and he enjoyed, she knew it--he could and would
hurt his girlfriend's body if he had a good enough excuse.
Anti-Chavie's soft dainty skin would be bruised for a while, and
it wasn't even Chavie's doing this time.
It was around this moment that Chavie fell in love.
-
Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: Bound by Chavie
Part 5
"I'm sorry," Jack was saying. "I had to use force to make the
spirit--or whatever--cooperate."
Sabine was sitting on the ground, gingerly rubbing her neck. She
nodded. "I understand..." She was so glad they were having their
talk along a little-used stretch of road. It would have been
horrible if someone had seen. While she appreciated Jack trying
to help, the amount of force he used seemed... It just didn't
feel necessary. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. "I
really can't control her, sometimes."
Jack knelt in front of her and brushed some hair out of her face.
"How long has she been around?"
"Almost--almost--as far back as I can remember. One of the first
memories I have is..." Sabine looked toward the woods, so still,
so eerie, in the low evening light. She pointed towards where the
clearing was. "I had lost something. I don't remember what, it
was so long ago... I was wandering around looking for it, and I
had this feeling that, maybe it was over this way... But the
feelings were... They weren't mine. It was like someone else
was... inside me, giving me advice on where to look. Another
time--a bit before that--I was told to get ready for the bath,
and instead I ran outside and climbed a tree to hide. But it was
like watching someone else do it. I wasn't in control. It was
frightening. When my mother found me, I was crying and confused
and couldn't stop apologizing to her."
It was strange to be retelling all this. It made Sabine feel like
she was undressing in front of a panel of doctors. Older, male
doctors.
"How old were you then?" He sat beside her.
"About... four or so, I think."
"And you're sure she wasn't around before that?"
"Yes. I've always believed that. In those memories, I remember
being sure nothing like this had happened before. She likes to
insist otherwise, but..." Sabine hugged her knees. "I know what I
remember."
"So, where did she come from? Did something happen to you?"
"No. She just showed up. Don't you think I haven't gone over this
before, trying to figure it out?"
He held up his hands defensively. "Well, it's news to me. So...
What's the deal with the clearing in the wood that your... 'other
half' is convinced is a graveyard?"
Sabine rolled her eyes. "She's always drawn to places I don't
like. Just like she... likes to do things I don't like."
"Like, hurt yourself."
"Yes. Like that."
"Why don't you like that clearing?"
"It... I'm afraid to go near it. There's this... feeling... I
can't explain it. It's probably just because the grass is so dead
there, all the time, and nothing else grows in it. It's just this
little circle, maybe twenty feet across. It's almost perfectly
round, and the trees on either side of it are tall and healthy,
but... nothing grows in the middle." Just thinking about it gave
her a chill. "Also, when we would go to Ellesly's house... The
farmhouse is old, his wife inheireted it from her grandfather.
The Intruder always wants to play in the attic, because it's full
of webs and it's always frightened me." It's an eerie place, she
wanted to tell him. I feel like I'm walking around a tomb, and
there are eyes in the walls, watching me. But she didn't want to
sound--not crazy, she sounded utterly insane right now--she just
didn't want to make it any worse.
"Do you think it's haunted?"
Sabine frowned. "No one else in my family has said anything. I'm
just paranoid, that's all, and The Intruder makes it worse
because she hates me, and will do anything to make me suffer."
Jack sighed. "Have you ever thought that nothing's wrong with
you, and you might just be more attuned to the spirit world than
some people?"
"Isn't that your realm?"
"It's yours more than mine, if you want to be a priest. I'm more
interested in demons. There's kind of a difference between
spirits and demons, you know."
They sat quietly for a couple moments. Sabine was relieved that
Jack didn't seem bothered by this, but she was still worried
about what he might be thinking about her... Of course, with his
unhealthy fascination with the dark arts, she shouldn't be
surprised that he could handle this sort of information so
calmly. They had broken up over their differences in belief--she
being an ardent lover of the Light, him being obsessed with
things of shadow--but really, perhaps each was needed to balance
each other out. Who else in this village would listen to her like
he was?
"Come on," he said quietly, standing and offering his hand to
her. She took it and stood. "I'm going to get a lantern, and
we're going to check that place out."
"In the dark? But... my mother won't like that..."
"All right." He was clearly disappointed. "I'll come by tomorrow
morning. And we will go to that clearing. Okay?"
"If we must." Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea. Not in
daylight, anyway.
"I'm sorry," Jack was saying. "I had to use force to make the
spirit--or whatever--cooperate."
Sabine was sitting on the ground, gingerly rubbing her neck. She
nodded. "I understand..." She was so glad they were having their
talk along a little-used stretch of road. It would have been
horrible if someone had seen. While she appreciated Jack trying
to help, the amount of force he used seemed... It just didn't
feel necessary. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. "I
really can't control her, sometimes."
Jack knelt in front of her and brushed some hair out of her face.
"How long has she been around?"
"Almost--almost--as far back as I can remember. One of the first
memories I have is..." Sabine looked toward the woods, so still,
so eerie, in the low evening light. She pointed towards where the
clearing was. "I had lost something. I don't remember what, it
was so long ago... I was wandering around looking for it, and I
had this feeling that, maybe it was over this way... But the
feelings were... They weren't mine. It was like someone else
was... inside me, giving me advice on where to look. Another
time--a bit before that--I was told to get ready for the bath,
and instead I ran outside and climbed a tree to hide. But it was
like watching someone else do it. I wasn't in control. It was
frightening. When my mother found me, I was crying and confused
and couldn't stop apologizing to her."
It was strange to be retelling all this. It made Sabine feel like
she was undressing in front of a panel of doctors. Older, male
doctors.
"How old were you then?" He sat beside her.
"About... four or so, I think."
"And you're sure she wasn't around before that?"
"Yes. I've always believed that. In those memories, I remember
being sure nothing like this had happened before. She likes to
insist otherwise, but..." Sabine hugged her knees. "I know what I
remember."
"So, where did she come from? Did something happen to you?"
"No. She just showed up. Don't you think I haven't gone over this
before, trying to figure it out?"
He held up his hands defensively. "Well, it's news to me. So...
What's the deal with the clearing in the wood that your... 'other
half' is convinced is a graveyard?"
Sabine rolled her eyes. "She's always drawn to places I don't
like. Just like she... likes to do things I don't like."
"Like, hurt yourself."
"Yes. Like that."
"Why don't you like that clearing?"
"It... I'm afraid to go near it. There's this... feeling... I
can't explain it. It's probably just because the grass is so dead
there, all the time, and nothing else grows in it. It's just this
little circle, maybe twenty feet across. It's almost perfectly
round, and the trees on either side of it are tall and healthy,
but... nothing grows in the middle." Just thinking about it gave
her a chill. "Also, when we would go to Ellesly's house... The
farmhouse is old, his wife inheireted it from her grandfather.
The Intruder always wants to play in the attic, because it's full
of webs and it's always frightened me." It's an eerie place, she
wanted to tell him. I feel like I'm walking around a tomb, and
there are eyes in the walls, watching me. But she didn't want to
sound--not crazy, she sounded utterly insane right now--she just
didn't want to make it any worse.
"Do you think it's haunted?"
Sabine frowned. "No one else in my family has said anything. I'm
just paranoid, that's all, and The Intruder makes it worse
because she hates me, and will do anything to make me suffer."
Jack sighed. "Have you ever thought that nothing's wrong with
you, and you might just be more attuned to the spirit world than
some people?"
"Isn't that your realm?"
"It's yours more than mine, if you want to be a priest. I'm more
interested in demons. There's kind of a difference between
spirits and demons, you know."
They sat quietly for a couple moments. Sabine was relieved that
Jack didn't seem bothered by this, but she was still worried
about what he might be thinking about her... Of course, with his
unhealthy fascination with the dark arts, she shouldn't be
surprised that he could handle this sort of information so
calmly. They had broken up over their differences in belief--she
being an ardent lover of the Light, him being obsessed with
things of shadow--but really, perhaps each was needed to balance
each other out. Who else in this village would listen to her like
he was?
"Come on," he said quietly, standing and offering his hand to
her. She took it and stood. "I'm going to get a lantern, and
we're going to check that place out."
"In the dark? But... my mother won't like that..."
"All right." He was clearly disappointed. "I'll come by tomorrow
morning. And we will go to that clearing. Okay?"
"If we must." Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea. Not in
daylight, anyway.