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The light Of day
Author's note: i have wrote quite a few books, from the age of 13 it has interested me. This book was the result of my book previous, and me wanting to wwrite something with more subtance, this is what came of it.
Most people are in raptures in the beauty of daytime. The way the sunlight shone bedazzling the leaves and others such things, though pretty, does not encapture ones mind or ensnare ones soul. No, the only thing capable of that is the brilliant night. Daytime may be picturesque but night intrigues minds and senses to a level incapable of morning. The perfect stillness never found in the hustle and bustle of every day life wrapping its dark arms around you. In the day you see everything so clear, so straight forward, but as soon as darkness hits nothing is for sure anymore. The deformed rock so clear in day becomes a ghostly guardian by night; the shadows cast in daylight now become that of long lost friends. I believe much morestrongly in the power of night, the beauty of turning something ordinary into something extraordinary has to be the most beautiful thing ever created.
It was on a beautiful night like this that it happened. Our two saviours met, our warriors of the light first fell in love with mere outlines and voices. That is true love, when the vouce of an angel is enough to paint a picture of the beautiful face.
This is the story of how our hope united and created the greatest match of all time.
John Howard was a man of very few words, gruff and unkempt he was the avoided spectacle of the town. His wayward bronze hair glitter in the midday sun like that of a mlti facetted diamond, but instead of the sigh that many such beautiful things evoked, the people averted their eyes ‘ the glow of the devil’ they would murmur as they crossed the road. It was not that john was a pauper, poor and therefore drove to detest his very self, quite on the contrary. Howard had bee a name held in much esteem in the neighbourhood before his father, Edmunds, death. They had been invited and hosted many parties and social events, all but John. He had always had a strange glint in his eye that made him untrustworthy, so after his fathers decease, he faded into the background. Only child it looked unlikely the Howard name would be around much longer.
Due to this universal dislike, John, not unreasonably, rarely ventured out.To lock oneself in a house so large with only the company of an old decrepit dog and boks is a sure recipe to drive anyone to insanity, and every lonesome day brought this on stronger in Jonathan.
There is a saying that dogs become to look like their owners. Well in unfortunate rustys case John began to look like him. With a matted greasy main, bushy, hairy faces and the stench... That of a sewer rat or a rotting carcass, things normally found in dogs conveyed in the owner. On the rare occasion he did venture out rusty would be bounding at his heels, The villagers whispered of its also devil like glint, through all there 12 years of seeing it they never saw it fatigue or whimper, only silently bound after its master, whos strides where that off a cheetah. Why did he walk so fast? Was he up to some bad deeds? Why did he never aknowledge them? Did his dog understand the human tounge for he was often seen talking to it? They gawked at but never questioned the only man who could answer there inquiries, for to be seen talking with such a man would be social suicide.
This is how John howard had spent the first 29 years of his life, avoided. 8 years of these had been in complete seclusion. His mother, Marie, was the only person who truly love or cared for him, but she passed when he wass but 12, of a flu caught from nursing john only weeks prior. She understood him like no other, not completely, that would be impossible, but she knew his anguish and upset and not being accepted, how was he to know why he was so hated? His mother would comfort it him, let him know she loved him no matter what. So when she was stolen john thought his life would never be full, he was left alone, stranded in a prison where he was the most unpopular inmate. His father had never been keen on him. His elder brother, Edmund, had died at 2 and john had never made up to his expectations, always the disappointment. After the death of his mother they spoke but rarely, the father blaming the son and the son blaming himself.
John had never experienced the sharp pain of love, only that of hate. So it is no wonder he shuddered at the thought of it. His many books told him of its pain and torment and disaster, he hd enough of that in his life, why should he go out and search for someone else to create it for him? His soul companion was Rusty. The perfect companion some might say, for its one that cannot answer. This though helpful at times, crashed down on johns poor soul, for who was to miss how insignifice
ant life after he passed. Dgs are loyal but they have no real memory, not really. John lived in constant fear that his life was but a drop in the ocean compared to those who surrounded him, why should we live a life to unremarkable to even be given a second thought. To live a life without fulfilment is to live no life at all.
There was not a single star blotting the sky, the moon swamped by the surround clouds. No light emmited anyway apart from the crackly fires winking out of the windows of nearby houses. The sky looked ready to engulf any person who dared to walk beneath it that starless night, everywhere you walked its arms enveloped you into its nothingness, the isolated feeling overwhelming. This was the perfect night for jonathan.
He had often taken a midnight wandering, the street murmured of his vampire like habits (evil was there only true thought of him) but truth be told he found a type of peace, of acceptance in the night. Whether it had to do with the fact that no one could watch or judge as he walked in the black but he always felt a strange happiness when these wanderings occurred. The mystical nights energy had a strngge hold over his soul, only in the dark of night could he feel his true self seeping through, nothing to hide behind his feelings where stripped bare, at night the Jonathan Howard you would come across would be a charming, good natured, beautiful soul, the moment the morning sun began to rise and his face became clear all this would drop. They would realise who he was and swear to everyone he bewitched them, the son of the devil himself!
This night was solely alone, he could feel no surrounding presense, he liked that, alot... Today had been a hard day, there taunts had burned him more than he usually allowed them too. Try as he might to block out there whispers they stung there way into his mind like a swarm of furious bees. He had only ventured into town to get some herbs for rustys gammy leg, he had been whimpering for 2 days straight and as his nly companion these whimpers echoed into him. John let out a deep breath he felt he had been conjuring all day, letting the worries asnd anxieties carry out into the black sea of nothingness, and then he heard it.
Her screams, her petrified cries. With a start he squinted into the blackness trying to make out any shape, there where some cattle not twenty yards away but behind them was the thrashing human figure, a mere shadow but there none the less. He watched as the figure stumbled closer and closer the screams turning to strained sobs, he could feel the life draining out of this poor weak girl, who had emerged like a bird from the never ending forest edge. She had got close enough for him to vaguely hear what her cries where
“please... help.. someone... please... they cant find me again...” and then she slumped he had watched her for a good five minutes stumbling around the ground, paralysed in fear, not sure how to react, and then she disappeared, poof! As if she had never been there, her outline no longer mocked the night and the peaceful silence returned, but Johns peace of mind did not. Unsuredly he edged to where the figure had vanished, inch by inch, shuffle by shuffle, he got closer and closer to the spot. And then he saw her slumped form, hiding in the long dark grass. He ran forward taking the young girl into his arms, she seemed limp- lifeless. John was a very learned man though, he checked her pulse, there was still a faint murmur. His diagnosis was shed probably passed out under the pressure of all her screams and terrified angst. He knew she would come around at any moment, and for him to assess the damage to her mind, he decided it best to stay, thought his mind screamed against it, he would not leave an innocent person to die.
5 minutes passed, john kept in exactly the same position, not wanting to injure her by further movements. His eyes raised to the forest, if she had been telling the truth and was not mad was something evil lurking there? Should he move her now if that may be the case? He glanced down to check if she was still unconscious and was therefore able to move her. When he looked down his heart stopped, for staring up att him where two of the stars that the lonely sky missed, ringed white and silver they conjured a light all on there own, beautiful.
“you’ve found me again haven’t yyou? Im sorry for running away... i didn’t mean it.. i didn’t.. plase don’t hurt me anymore...” those beautiful eyes brimmed with tears, fear driven tears. It talk all the strength john had to muster a response
“excuse me miss, i was taking a late night wandering when i heard your screams,and i found you lying her, i don’t mean any harm to you.”
Her eyes filled with confusion
“but... you mean... your not with him?”
“i don’t know to which ‘him’ you refer but i do not believe so.”
And then his heart stopped again for those eyes beamed at him, tearso different from them before streaming down her face, jpyous sobs emitting from her. Then she stoped aprubtly again, raising her head to the forest, anxiety once more overthrowing her. John picked up on this.
“ would you mind if i moved you somewhere further away, i brought some bread and water with me as i felt i might get hungry and you need to get your sugar levels back up, you seem to have quite a shock.”
“are you a doctor?” here sweet voice replied
“... something like that” John grimaced at this lie but he had to look at those eyes just a little bit longer.
“ok.” And without hesitation jonathan took her up in his arms and strode into further darkness, he knew these fields like the back of his hand and so 10 minutes later sat down in his before occupied spot, handing her the loaf and a flask of water he sat her down next to himj, making sure first she was capable of holding herself upright.
“Does anything hurt, your head? Any physical pain?”
“no, no, i am quite well now thanks to you sir, i beg who do i owe my thanks?”
John paused. Wht if she was from town or round abouts, the mere mention of his name would frighten her into another swoon, and she mmost certainly would not want him holind her when she awoke. He couldn’t have her hate him like everyone else...
“ George Reynolds.”
“ Well thank you very much George Reynolds, though i do not know the face of whom i am thanking, i owe you a lifetime of gratitude.”
“Miss, you owe me nothing, i hope anyone else should have done the same in my position.”
“ I am not so sure of that myself, and please Mr Reynolds, call me Marie, i feel we are much better acquainted then any two people ever could be.”
“very well Miss Marie.”
3 hours had passed. To John it felt only minutes and indeed to maire too it felt no longer. They quizzed eachother on the small inconsequestial things. Favourite colours, books, poems, scenes, teased one another with a playfulness only years of friendship could usually muster, but now the conversation had got more serious... in depth...
“so mr Reynolds” she said in a mocking tone, for he had told her many a time to call him George “where do you live?”
John fidgeted “ in town. How about you miss No Last Name?”
“nowhere. I’m a bit of a vagabond.”
“oh really?well isn’t that so exciting and stable for your delicate state” John chuckled for what felt like the first time ever.
“my delicate state, who goes gallivanting around in the pitch black night who isn’t a little strange themselves?” she sang back, her eyes sparkling like themost beautiful clear diamonds.
“ oh i do not deny my strange tempermants. Though i do have an excuse for what you so politely called ‘gallivanting’ night... darkness... its hard to explain it has this hold over me, i fell as if when night approaches i can do anything, be anything i want to do... and it... cleanses, clears, its just... ok yes i’m strange!”
“I think your fine, just as you are.” The moment she said tehm words George knew the feelings where completely mutual and very much more deep. He loved this girl as he could loved no other, the fire of her words wisdom and strength brought the lightback into his forever dark life. Suddenly his life ahad meaning, a point, and it was all for a girl he didn’t even know the face off, only those eyes... “what about your family, i bet there lovely people too” George lowered his head.
“they’re all dead, my mother when i was but 12 and my father 8 years ago.”
“i’m so sorry George.”
“don’t be, honestly, i was the bane of my fathers life, there was nothing he despised more than me... his only son. My mother though, she was lovely, she saw the best in me when everyone else refused too...” George felt ashamed, to talk to his father in such a way, maries silence surely showed he did not agree with it either, to talk of his mother too, he had never done that, nor did he want to again. And then he felt her hand grasp his own and she lowered her lips down to kiss it, and her silent tears trickle down, she would never know how good that felt t John, his breath caught, nobody had so much as touched him in 17 years.
“i see it, and im sure everyone else does too.” John didn’t have it in him to tell her the truth, the sun was going to rise soon, e had to go, and that thought pained his very core, his very being, he couldn’t bear the thought of parting from her, his angel of the night...
“what happened tonight maire?” he had to ask it, just once, bluntly, clearly.
The silence hummed, only the chirp of the crickets were to be heard. ‘Stupid man he had thought to himself, why ruin it? Just as he was about to apologise she spoke.
“ i was running, running froma very bad person who had me under his power for too long, i couldn’t face it anymore George, i just couldn’t!” Her sobs wrenched into his heart knowing he was the means that created them, he vallantly pulled her into his arms and whispered
“you’re safe now, nothings ever going to happen to you again, i promise you, its all going to be fine, sleep now, hush...” her salty tears seeped throught to his shirt but eventually they subdued and a gentle rythm of breath began, he layed like this for one beeautifull hour. An hour which left them the only two people on the earth and her sweet smell drifting up to him he was high on the fumes of his love, is only love, his true love, but she couldn’t see him, his face, and he couldn’t see hers, it would cause too much pain, those eyes where pain enough forany man to withstand, and to be rejected by the rest of her beautiful self would mortify every particle in him. So the hour had to draw to an end, he had t leave, to try to carry on.. he looked down at the dark figure sleeping soundeslly on his chest and a single tear dropped onto her face, with a gentle kiss and a swift move he was gone, and she was alone, his cloak surrounding her form. John did not look back, he walked the familiar dark walk, went home and tended to Rusty, no longer a whole man.
Try as he might, John could no longer function the same. His books lost all of there intrigue, his mind all of its substance. Marie. That was all, one tiny girl, on lonesome night, and he felt a power far too strong to ever be called human. One night had done it, restored his faith, in life, in god, in worship, in love... When he shut his eyes, earnestly trying to forget he would see the raditaing light of her own orbs shining back at him, there was no escape, no cure, love consumes, it changes your very being, makes you want to become things you never dreamed off before. John felt he had been nlind till the point of meeting her, and after leaving her presence all his other senses where singed by the heat and power of her beautiful self.
John did not leave the house, his room even, for 12 days. He needed to feel the darkness around him, pretend he was in that night, but as a different man, a an who would be worthy of her, lovely marie. He would wrap his arms around her and she hers, and they would lie, for hours, just looking into the blackness, savouring every sweet second because thats all he could ever want or need, just one more second with her, one more smell, or glance and he felt his world might become whole once more. His stomach clenched and squirmed at the thought of seeing, and not touching, hearing, but not talking, but he had to make sure she was safe, ok. So it was resolved, he would go to town, pick up some meat and other neccesties but most of all, keep an ear out for Marie, if she had settled in this town or not, he mmust know!
“Look, there he is, paler than usual... he cannot have been out at night, praying on the innocent, lack of blood.. the vampire!” John just kept his head down, it hurt, but only a miniscule amount, he didn’t care what these strangers thought of him, only that his love was safe, he had just picked up some carrots off the market and heard murmurings of a new comer, but he had to ensure it was marie, not ome insignificant nobody, and as they had not used a name he could nto tell. Next stop, the apothecary, there lived the two biggest gossips around, Henry and Vera brother adn sister, and extremely opinionated. Another couple of people passed, “oh his stench, the stench of evil, thats what that is” john clenched back his upset, ‘be strong’ he urgedhe was not three stops from the apothecary, when he heard the chimes of her voice. He stopped inhis tracks, straining his ears so he could hear all. She was in the shop, talking to Henry, seeming to have just purchased some soaps, making idle chit chat, he felt as if the world had suddenly just turned a notch brighter, the birds sung that bit louder, the breeze that bit warmer. She was alive, safe.. she was real! He let the euphoria wash over him and then felt it crash around his form.
“i do not suppose you know where Doctor Reynolds is do you?” a young man brushed past John giving him a start as he entered the apothecary.
“yes.” She replied, obviously thinking him a bit slow, “Doctor George Reynolds”
“i’m sorry miss, but i don’t know anyone by that name.” There was a brief pause, john wished he could see her reaction to the news but he didn’t move an inch, paralysed by her chiming voice.
“oh. My mistake, good day to you.” The man who had entered not a minute before once again left, not having purchased anything and after him came the girl. Oh how beautiful she was, her hair shone an exquisite blonde, glittering almost like tat of a fairy, her posture perfectly held, a magnificent gown covering her body, plump rouge lips, of which she nervouslt bit down on, a frown creasing her beautiful forhead. But most of all, her eyes! In light they were enough to encapture ones very being and lock it away in them for ever. His heart sobbed, for this torture was too much, too strong, in too short a period, it had to stop but he could not avert his eyes. She glanced up giving a polite smile and was then approached by aother couple young women, who had obviously befriended her previously for she said “ who is that man who stares at me so?” the girls scanned and once there eyes latched gasped.
“he. He is the son of the devil, evil to the core, ahh, do not look up at him, he has, in his black eyes, the serpent, coiled and ready to spring.” Maries brow tightened, fear abviously passing through her, then she thought the better of it,
“ oh hush, im sure he’s just a lonely man.” She looked up again, but he had gone, disappeared almost, her heart felt for him, ‘poor isolated man’ but she was soon preoccupied once more with the thought of where George could have possibly gone, maybe her mind simply made him up only that dreadful night... but then what about his cloak?
John got home, torn apart. What he feard most had happened. She saw him how everyone else saw him, he saw the fear in her quivering body, and did not blame her for it. For as he stood in the only mirror he owne in the house and surveyed himself e could not stop the tears cascading dwn his face. How could he ever expect something as wondorous as marie to even take the slightest notice in someone who looked like him? He was worthy of no one, he loved, but would never feel the mutualistic return, because he was him, and nothing could change that He felt his soul bursting open his suppressed feeling oozing out, veins throbbing under his heavy beating heart. He took one hard look in the mirror and then smashed it t smithereens, cutting open his hand doing so but he felt nothing anymore. He was nothing anymore