Summary: Stella Black suffered from a terrible car accident, causing her to have memory loss. Now she can't remember who she is or what happened in her past. But with the help of her friend bringing back her memories, Stella begins to determine who she really is, but it's not something she's expecting. . .at all.TITLE: Thirsty Eyes
PART ONE: Mystification
The images painted a blurry picture, fading to black. Slowly like a cloud, the images were erasing like snow melting away. Everything was surrounded by unclear shadows. All I could remember from that night is darkness.
I opened my eyes instantly and found myself staring at an unsatisfying brown wall. As my curious eyes wander the room, I realized I was in my own bedroom. I was dazed from seeing those hazy images, but I decided to let it slip.
As I rose from my bed, shielded by bewilderment how I suddenly ended up in my bedroom, I prepared myself for school, putting my favorite pair of jeans on and a T-shirt. I examined myself in the mirror, staring at a mystified reflection.
I glared into a beautiful face with warm, gold eyes, having the prettiest pale skin I've ever seen. The hair was a black veil, hanging loose down my shoulders. For the first time, I was confused seeing myself this beautiful. The one thing I felt completely lost at is who I am as a person, my inner self. The only thing I could remember is my name, first and last, but that's about it. I continued brushing my hair, thinking how I'm going to survive school while trapped in confusion.
The day of school was a total blur; I was in such deep thought, caring less what's going on around me. During lunch, as I sat in the cafeteria, I realized my food is still untouched, not having much of an appetite. As I continued pondering, my mind was still possessed by these deep thoughts.
"Hi, Stella!" a distant voice said to me, so I thought it was distant.
Snapping back to reality, I saw the face of an angel, my best friend, Annaly. She's a blond version of me, the only difference is whenever Annaly smiles, she has cute dimples and her smile lights up everything.
"Hey, Annaly," my tone came out flat.
Sitting right beside me, as she sat her tray down on the table, she looked at me, her eyes glazing with surprise, as if she hasn't seen me in years.
"So, Stella, where were you these past few months? I missed you," Annaly brought up.
Lowering my eyebrows in bewilderment, I asked, "What do you mean?"
Now it was Annaly's turn to shadow the lowered eyebrows. "Don't you remember, Stella? You were gone these past few months!"
"What...What are you talking about, Annaly?" I was utterly at a loss.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Her tone had an acidic side to it.
"No I don't!" I made it sound like I'm defending myself.
"Don't act so stupid! You do too!"
Sighing heavily with aggravation, I couldn't help but snap, "For the last time, Annaly, I don't know what you're talking about! Just drop it!"
Looking hurt deep in the eyes, Annaly rose up, annoyed, and practically bellowed, "That's it! I don't even know you anymore! I'm sitting somewhere else!"
As fast as a blink of an eye, she left the table, picking up her tray furiously. I remained frozen, stunned by her cold words. I don't even know myself anymore. What's wrong with me anyway? Who am I?
The rest of school had its ups and downs, but for me, mostly downs. All of my friends constantly asked me where I've been these past few months, and I gave them the same answer as I did to Annaly. After telling them over and over I don't know what they're talking about, like a reflection of Annaly, they gave me the cold shoulder. So, basically, I have no friends left.
Depressed, I decided to skip my third period class, and walked outside the school. I sat beneath a tree on the school ground, a curtain of shade glazing upon me.
I was frustrated with myself. Why can't I remember who I am anymore? This is scaring me. What if this is permanent? What if I won't be able to remember myself anymore? I shuddered at that thought. How will this effect my future? How will I live the rest of my life waking up confused, not knowing my inner self?
I was so deep in thought, I didn't hear the footsteps approaching me. Somebody sat right beside me, and I looked up to see who it was. It was this gorgeous guy with beautiful, bronze hair, as if he just came back from a hair gel commercial. His eyes were a shade of a deep, warm chocolate color. His flesh was as white as snow. I couldn't help but stare at him; he is so beautiful with his porcelain face.
Awkwardly, I said, "Hello."
"Hi," he said back, and quickly added, "I apologize for my intruding, but I saw you sitting here, looking sad," he spoke, his voice like soothing rain with an innocence softness.
"I am sad," I confessed.
"Allow me to introduce myself first," he said. "My name is Darryl Hale." Politely he extended his hand out and we shook hands with friendliness.
"It's nice to meet you, Darryl," I said warmly. "I'm Stella Black."
Leveling an astonished mask, he spoke softly, as if he's talking to himself, "Stella Black...Stella...Your name sounds awfully familiar."
"Does it?" I asked, now it was my turn to shadow the identical mask.
Gazing deep into my eyes, he brought up, "I've seen you somewhere before. I actually know who you are!"
"You do?" I was mystified.
Sighing heavily, he said, "You don't remember me, do you? Does my name sound familiar to you, at least?"
"No, should it?"
Stabbing a finger towards me, he continued, "I was with you the day of your accident. I know why you don't remember who you are or why you can't recall what happened the past few months."
"That's funny, I don't recall seeing you," I admitted. That's when it dawned on me. "Accident? What accident?"
"Why don't you come with me for a while?" Darryl suggested.
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because so you can understand why you don't recall your past," Darryl's tone came out haunting.
As soon as we were on the highway, while I was sitting in the back of his motorcycle, feeling the warm breeze touch my skin, I couldn't help but feel anticipated, wondering what occurred in my past. Hopefully Darryl will help me determine my inner self.
By the time we reached his house, an average-looking house, I got off his motorcycle and he escorted me towards his front door.
"Do I actually know who you are?" I asked, reflecting back to our conversation underneath the tree.
"Yes, you do, matter of fact," was his velvety response.
As he fumbled with the lock, after opening the door, I stepped in his house. Instantly a smile painted across my face with satisfaction. I'd have to say, his house reminds me of the inside of a beach house, everything beautiful and heartwarming. The colors were comforting, delicate shades of blue, as soothing as the ocean water during a perfect summer day.
Darryl and I reached towards the couch in his reassuring living room. As I sat on the couch, crossing my legs, he looked through his backpack and took out this beat-up looking book. He handed the book to me, but I only glared at it, unsure what he wants me to do with it.
"Take it," his tone darkened, commanding me.
"Is it for me?" I wondered out loud, obediently taking the book.
His tone softened to innocence, and clarified, "This book contains pictures the day of your accident."
I continued looking at him, astounded what he said.
"Go ahead, take a look," he pressed.
Without saying a word, I began looking through the book with curiosity. I found a ripped up page from a newspaper, the headline reading: THE MOST DEVASTATED ACCIDENT. A picture of a Chevy truck stood on top of a mirror made of ice, right beside a tree. Blinking my eyes several times at the Chevy, I had this deja vu feeling. That truck sure looks familiar. . .
I moved on to the next page, this one containing a picture of. . . myself in a hospital bed, my face a veil of scars and bruises! I glanced away from that dreadful picture, stifling back the uncontrolled tears. Placing my hand over my mouth, I felt the stream of tears pouring down my face. My chest felt heavy inside, as if my heart weighs a ton. Rain of tears continuously poured. I felt Darryl's soothing hands on my shoulders while having my moment.
"Hey, Stella, everything's going to be fine," he encouraged.
Looking at him, my eyes glazed with teardrops, the veil of bruises staining my face, I hissed under my breath, "How do you everything's going to be fine? I'm seeing myself with bruises all over my face, never knowing where they came from or what has happened to me!"
"Like I said before, Stella, I was with you the day of your accident," he reminded me. Taking a deep breath, he explained, "A few months ago, in January, you were driving in your new Chevy truck, with me in the passenger seat. We didn't know the road you were driving on is pure ice, because snow was covering the ice. We were just fooling around in your truck, and I dared you to speed up, and you did.
"Because of the ice road, since you were going too fast, the truck swerved, and it slid across the road, onto the frozen lake the road was next to. The next thing I knew we were sliding across the ice as well, sliding right into a tree trunk that was beside the lake. The tree trunk caused your side of the truck to break the glass of the window, causing you to hit your head against the tree trunk really hard. You were in the hospital for four months, Stella."
I was too stunned to speak.
Darryl went on, "That's the reason why you can't remember anything, Stella. Your accident caused you to have memory loss! One side of your brain is seriously damaged, erasing your long term memories, the other side of your brain contains a little of your memory, but overall, your brain is suffering from memory loss. According to your doctor, it's permanent. He said there's nothing we can do to help you restore your memories back..." He hesitated for a brief moment, and then sympathized, "I'm so sorry, Stella."
I stared at the ground, feeling melancholy deep inside. The raindrops of tears continued pouring down my face.
Everything is going to be fine, a velvet voice encouraged me.
"Thank you," I said out loud to the voice.
"For what?" Darryl asked in confusion.
"Actually, I just heard this voice," I confessed. "It sounded so distant. It's like the kind of voice you would hear inside your head."
"Stella, the voice you heard was mine," he admitted, suddenly.
My eyes glazed with astonishment, giving him a sideways look.
"What?" I demanded.
Making eye contact, he said, "Yes, you heard me correctly, Stella. That voice was mine. You were actually reading my mind."
Leveling my eyes in mystification, I said, "Okay, this is ridiculous. I mean, I'm not a mind-reader. I can't read anyone's minds."
"You just read mine a minute ago," Darryl reminded me.
"True," was all I could say.
"There's something else you should know about," he confessed, darkening his voice, his features coloring suspense.
"What is it?" I asked flatly.
"You know what? Instead of telling you, I'm going to show you," Darryl changed his mind, his tone still colored with dark.
PART TWO: Unraveling
Late at night, I was sleeping dreamlessly. A filmstrip of darkness possessed inside my mind rather than images. Suddenly the blackness had a tint of blue, almost creating a kaleidescope design. Blue shades took over the black and before I know it, those colors transformed into images. . . into dreams.
Turns out, the images appeared to be myself and this gorgeous stranger, who I've never seen before. We were walking on an isolated battlefield, near the woods.
The ocean of trees were all beautiful, the leaves a pure green, the shade of green you would find in summer. The sky was a blanket of gray clouds, with the sky itself a silver. Basically, the battlefield was a world of cool colors.
Abruptly, this werewolf, standing a few feet away from us, came out of nowhere, striding like a ghost. To my astonishment, the stranger revealed his fangs, sharp as a knife, to the werewolf. I mirrored the stranger, showing no fear to our rival. Before we knew it, as fast as a blink of an eye, the werewolf charged toward us. Fortunately, the stranger and I were much more rapid than the werewolf. We battled the wolf together, our fangs still revealed.
Suddenly, I woke up, bathed in a veil of perspiration. Breathing heavily, I placed my hand over my heart. It beat so fast I thought it was going to sprint out of me. Dazed by that dream, I rose up from my bed reluctantly, taking baby steps towards the mirror.
I stared at another mystified reflection, trying to determine why I was dreaming seeing myself with fangs. I never had a dream so eccentric before like this. The reason I'm looking in the mirror is I have to be sure I really don't have fangs, and I know it's a silly thing to do, considering it's only a dream, but you never know. Maybe it's a memory from my past or something. That's when it dawned on me. I could feel goosebumps prickling on my skin. That's it! It wasn't a dream at all!
Desperate, I opened my mouth in a flash, still looking in the mirror, my features glazed with confusion. I couldn't see any fangs, but as I examined my teeth closer, I saw two long, sharp, pointy teeth. Immediately I knew those were fangs! My features shadowed a surprise mask. No! This can't be happening! For the first time in a long time, deep down, I knew who I really am!
As I examined my eyes closer, like I did with the fangs, I saw that they had this thirsty look behind them, not thirsty for water, but for something darker. For the first time, my gold eyes appeared demented, colored with sinister.
That's when I stared at something resting on my dresser. There was a picture of not only myself and the stranger, but standing behind us, there was a mysterious coven. I saw that every single face was porcelain and beautiful. Lowering my eyebrows in a daze, I was more confused than ever. Who were these people? Do I know them? As my eyes traveled all over the picture, they fell upon the gorgeous stranger again, realizing I've seen him somewhere before. Okay, this is ridiculous, why does the guy look familiar, but the rest of the coven appeared strangers in a heavy mist?
"Hello, Stella," this warm, velvet voice said behind me.
I whirled around, and to my surprise, it was the gorgeous stranger from my dream, so I thought it was a dream.
With mystification coloring my features, I asked, "How did you know my name?"
Sighing heavily, he replied, "Don't you remember me, Stella?"
"No," I answered resentfully. "But I've dreamed about you tonight, for some peculiar reason." I said the last line in a doubtful tone. Then my tone transformed to innocence to acidic, "Why are you here in my house? You may look familiar, but I don't know you! Just get out of here! Now!"
Darkening his tone, he said, "Look, I'm not leaving. And yes, you do know who I am, actually. You just don't remember because of your. . ." His voice trailed off like a gust of wind.
Gradually he opened the book, revealing a picture of myself lying in a hospital bed, with my face covered in harsh bruises and scars. That's when it hit on me. Tears rained down my face after seeing that picture.
Lifting my hand to touch the left side of my head, I whispered, "I can feel it."
He went on, clarifying, "My name is Darryl Hale, Stella. I've known you for years. In fact, you are my girlfriend. We've been together for a long time. The dream you had tonight, it actually wasn't a dream. It was a memory of your past, revealing our true identities. That memory actually happened to you before your accident. I know you don't recall, but yesterday, you read my mind when I thought, everything is going to fine. You're special ability is to read minds, Stella. My special abilities are predicting futures, and reading minds as well.
Stunned, I spoke, "You and I are boyfriend and girlfriend all this time?"
"Yes," he said, keeping calm for my sake, and added, "I know it's hard for you to believe, but it's true."
"I can actually read minds?" I asked, astounded to hear that unexpected news.
"Yes," he simply said, still mild.
"I'm curious. . . Uh, Darryl, that's your name, right?"
He only nodded, his face unreadable.
"I'm curious, Darryl, how did you know the dream I had tonight is a memory from my past?"
"I was the one who placed that memory into your mind," he answered softly.
"How did you do that?" I asked with curiosity.
"That's my other special ability," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, "My other one is to photograph images into another mind. This is how it works. . . If I see an image in my head, and if I think of a name in particular, someone I already know, that image passes on to their mind as well."
With enthusiasm, I replied, "Really? That is cool!"
"It is an irresistible ability," Darryl agreed. Then he suddenly recalled, "There's another thing you should know about yourself."
"I know exactly what you're going to say next, Darryl," I brought up.
Oh really? Tell me, what am I thinking? he thought.
You're thinking of telling me who I really am, I thought to him. But deep inside, I think I know what the answer is. It's going to sound completely ridiculous.
"Tell me who you think you are," Darryl pressed, speaking out loud.
I told him my honest answer, my tone reluctant and insecure. After I told him the answer, his warm, chocolate eyes shadowed a stunned look.
PART THREE: Flashbacks
Because of my memory loss condition, everyday this gorgeous stranger would constantly appear, revealing the day of my accident. He would constantly say who my true identity is.
One day, the gorgeous stranger decided to bring me to the house I used to live in from my past. Of course, I was bewildered why this stranger was being so generous to me, and why he's desperate to show me my previous house. I don't even know who he is, but he seems nice.
He drove us on his motorcylce on the outskirts of town. As I examined my surroundings, suddenly I came across this familiar battlefield. The other thing I found strange was having this eccentric craving for. . . blood, fresh blood! I know that sounds insane, but to be honest, I don't know why I have this craving.
Deciding to ignore the eccentric craving, I focused back on my examination. That's when I noticed, standing isolated on the top of this hill, was a mansion, appearing like a 3-dimensional shadow from the distance. A moat of trees surrounded the mansion, casting a veil of shade upon it.
Surprisingly, the gorgeous stranger drove onto the narrow, endless driveway, leading towards the mansion. As soon as we approached it, he turned off his motorcycle, and helped me off it. Why is he being so generous to me, considering we've never met before?
"Hey, what's your name?" I asked, leveling my eyebrows in curiosity.
"Darryl Hale," he introduced himself.
"What a nice name," I complimented, smiling brightly.
"Thank you. You have such a lovely name yourself," he complimented back.
I blushed, and then, gazing at the mansion dubiously, I asked dreadfully, "Why are we here, by the way?"
"Well, believe it or not, Stella, this used to be where you live," he spoke the truth, gesturing towards the mansion.
My features painted an astounded mask, myself a statue frozen in shock.
Nodding without emotion, Darryl responded, "Yes, you heard me correctly."
"I-I c-can't believe it," I stuttered, my eyes glued to the mansion. I glared at it, with the face of someone will have when trying to put together a million piece jigsaw puzzle.
I couldn't help but notice every single window had its curtains drawn shut. Personally I find that situation extremely weird. It's no big deal, though. The other thing I realized is this mansion is not getting much sunlight either. It is totally underneath the ocean during nighttime.
"This mansion looks awfully familiar," I admitted, "as well as the battlefield we passed by earlier."
"You've been to both of them. . . many times," Darryl answered, eyeing me curiously. "The battlefield we passed, you've seen it in your head before, from the night you had that memory painted inside your mind."
"I've been to those places many times before?" was all I could ask, still astonished.
"Yes," he simply said. Then he added rapidly, "I'm going to burn an image into your head, flashbacks from your past."
Coloring my features into confusion, I asked, "What do you mean?"
With that, he explained his three abilities, using a very clear description. I thought the third ability of his, photographing images into a different mind, was irresistible. He also said I could read minds of others, putting me in shock, as if getting struck by lightning. He revealed a picture of myself lying in a hospital bed from this one book, clarifying what's happened to me.
After he noticed my realization what occurred to me, he repeated, "Okay, I'm going to photograph those flashbacks into your mind. Are you ready, Stella?"
"I'm ready," I replied with confidence.
"Close your eyes," his velvet, innocent tone instructed me.
Obediently I closed them, apprehensive what he's going to reveal. At first, it started with a black filmstrip, but then, as the black possessed my mind, it rapidly transformed into an image of the identical battlefield I've seen. With altostratus clouds concealing the sunlight, images of a beautiful coven painted onto the battlefield, including myself and Darryl. To my realization, a clan of werewolves approached us gradually, moving so ghostly, with their eyes colored with sinister. Our clan's eyes, on the contrary, had this mysterious thirsty gaze. Darryl revealed his fangs to the werewolves first, and the rest of us were reflections of him. We fought with our rivals intensely, clawing and slicing at one another.
The next flashback suddenly burned inside my mind. This time, it was only me and Darryl, sitting beneath a twilight sky, a warm and cool color ocean flowing across the sky slowly, like clouds. Then, unexpectedly, I saw Darryl and I kissing passionately underneath the sunset, causing our flesh to glow like snow gleaming against sunlight.
Like a slideshow, the next image was seeing myself walking solitaire in the night. A translucent curtain made of moonlight shined upon me. As I continued prowling in the darkness, having a ravenous glare deep within my crimson eye, I smiled darkly, mirroring the Joker's grin. A ten year old boy walked up towards me, greeting me with a friendly hello. But instead of saying hello back, instantly I reached for the boy's neck, and deeply sunk my fangs into his throat. Crimson rivers rained down his throat thickly. On and on I saw more images like this, seeing myself drink more blood.
Then a world of darkness invaded my mind, thinking the flashbacks is over. So I thought it was distant, this voice commanded me to open my eyes.
After opening them, having a mystified mask, I asked, "Would you mind explaining those flashbacks, Darryl?"
"Don't you see, Stella? They were revealing our true identities," he confessed. "The image where you saw us kissing, that one's proving how much we love each other. But because of your accident, you can't recall falling in love with me."
Without warning, Darryl slowly approached me closer, every step graceful. Then he traced the outline of my lips, his touch a cold, soft feather. He brought his lips close to mine, and we kissed. His kiss felt cold and marble as well as his touch, but with a hint of love in it. After the kiss, we gazed deeply into each other's eyes, both of us breathless, like we couldn't believe what happened.
"The coven you saw on the battlefield," he began, "They are your family, Stella. Like you, they drink blood as well, and so do I."
"What are you saying?" I asked, anticipated.
"Before I tell you, you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to keep these flashbacks burned inside your mind for eternity, that way, you'll never wake up confused ever again," he suggested. "You'll always know who you are."
Smiling with ecstasy, "I would love that."
"Okay," Darryl agreed.
"So, what are you trying to tell me about ourselves, Darryl?" I reminded him in a rush.
I could have sworn he whispered coldly the word vampires, but I didn't hear what he said, though. From the throat of my best friend, Annaly, I was too busy drinking her fresh, human blood.
THE END. . .
