Yes, yes, I know it's not as good as the last one...

Chapter Twenty-One

“Where are you going today, Cherise?”

Cherise blinked a couple of times and looked up from the sketchbook. She'd been staring at it blankly, lost in thought. Realizing that her mother was talking to her, she sighed inwardly and pushed the sketchbook away. “Why do you ask?” She sounded as startled as she felt.

“Because lately you don't go anywhere. I thought that today you might finally have plans.”

“Oh. Um...” Cherise shrugged weakly. “I don't know. Any ideas?”

Mother wasn't looking directly at her, but Cherise could almost see her frowning thoughtfully. “I don't know. Why don't you go see your friends again? It's been a week since I last saw you going off to visit them.”

Cherise winced a little at the reminder and let her gaze drop to the sketchbook once more. “Well...” Since she really didn't have a convincing argument, she didn't say anything, but let her gaze drop. Sighing softly, she closed the sketchbook and blinked, sleepy. “I suppose I'll go,” she mumbled, blinking in the blinding sunlight. She didn't want to go, but if it was to avoid suspicion...

Forcing herself to her feet, she wondered what exactly she was trying to achieve by locking herself in her house for almost two more weeks. After all, it wouldn't make him come back sooner. She might as well leave for some fresh air... a week had passed already, anyway. She wasn't dead yet.

Yet, she reminded herself.

She wasn't exactly in the mood to run off to find one of her friends; instead, she grabbed her sketchbook from the table before she headed for the door.

“So you have plans now?” her mother asked, slight amusement in her voice.

“I suppose I do,” Cherise replied as she opened the door and stepped out.

“Don't be out too late,” Mother called as she closed the door.

She sighed a little and stepped out into the weak sunlight. She didn't want to be here – she preferred her bedroom – but it didn't matter anymore anyway. She was out.

Slowly, she paced down the street, lost in thought. Yes, she had survived an entire week... and now she was wondering where he was. Was he all right? A feeling deep inside her told her that he wasn't all right; he wasn't dead, but he wasn't safe.

If that was truly the case, then what were the chances of her seeing him again?

She wondered if he would have stayed, had she asked him to. But then, that would be a selfish move on her own part. She could not argue with him; the fact was that his living here would have been dangerous for everyone else she loved.

He might as well just return when there's no longer the chances of someone dying, she asked herself gloomily as she approached the part of the river where the bench was. Right?

Wrong, retorted the side of her that refused to see logic. The side of her that still wished he had stayed. Wrong.

She sank onto the bench and gazed blankly at the river in front of her, letting the soothing sound relax her a little. For just a moment, she didn't miss him so terribly; when there was something there to distract her, as opposed to the silence of her bedroom, she could live. In her bedroom it was too still. Her own thoughts seemed to echo there, with nothing to interrupt them. Here the river drowned out her every feeling, and she appreciated that.

Slowly, she opened the sketchbook and began a rough drawing of the view in front of her. The river, and the sun shining behind it, just beginning to set. It was entertaining, and even amusing to see how badly her drawing was, compared to the beauty of the actual scene. But at least it allowed her thoughts to be elsewhere, as she added a bit of shading here... made it darker there...

She was just beginning to like her work of art a little when a shy voice spoke to her.

“Hello.” The voice that pulled her out of her thoughts was familiar, and unusually welcome, since she hadn't heard her for so long.

Cherise looked up at Svenja with a smile. “Hi. Haven't seen you in... a while...” She trailed off when she realized that this fact was entirely her own fault.

Svenja seemed to be thinking the same thing; her weak smile gave it all away. “Indeed. I've missed you,” she added with her usual cheer.

Cherise nodded, letting her gaze drop back to the sketchbook in shame. “Sit,” she offered.

Sven seemed to hesitate for a couple of seconds before sinking onto the bench to her left. “So... how are you doing?” She chose each word carefully, but Cherise knew exactly what she meant.

Cherise considered this for a few seconds. “Well,” she replied at last, huddling on the bench. “I'm alive.”

“That's good, I suppose,” Svenja muttered.

Cherise hesitated. She wanted to ask it, but knew that the chances of Sven having an answer would be very low. “Do... do you have any news concerning him? I... I hate being in the dark like this.”

“I would imagine you do,” Sven replied in a whisper. “But I don't have any news. It seems like Garrett just... vanished.”

Cherise winced a little at the sound of his name. It hurt to hear his name and know that he was so terribly far away.

“Oh,” was her weak response. “Do you think he'll be back at all?”

Several seconds passed in complete silence. Cherise felt alarm and turned to look at her friend.

Sven was staring blankly at her hands, long blond hair nearly obscuring her face, but Cherise could see sadness and reluctance in her blue eyes.

Does she know something? Cherise asked herself curiously. She's so... mysterious... it would seem like she's lying to me. “What's wrong?” she asked her slowly.

Sven smiled a little and shook her head. “I'm not psychic,” she replied quietly, looking up again. “So I don't know if he'll be back or not. I'll just give you a bit of advice, though, Cherise... don't get too hopeful... because then, if he really doesn't return...” She sighed softly and finished. “If he really doesn't return, it'll be a lot harder on you, and I don't want that.”

“Why?”

“Because you're my friend. I just don't want that.”

Cherise found herself smiling a little and looked away. After a few seconds, she decided that she could confide in this girl. It wasn't like she had anyone else to tell her secrets to. “I'm tired of being in the dark,” she admitted in a whisper. “That's all.”

“How do you mean?”

She allowed the roaring of the river to soothe her a bit more before she responded. “I just don't understand who I'm supposed to be,” she whispered at last. “According to him and everyone else... I seem to have played a great role in this story... but my problem is that I don't know anything about this story at all. All I know is that he was a shadow... and now he's not... and suddenly he's gone because of someone out to kill him.” She thought this over for a moment before concluding, “It just seems that there's a lot more to this story than I know. It's so much deeper than what I know so far...”

“I'm sure whatever he hasn't told you must be a deep secret of his,” Sven replied after a moment.

“I know,” Cherise replied, barely a whisper. “I know. But I can't stop thinking about it... if I'm that significant, how come I barely know anything at all?”

“I don't know. But I'm sure that once you see him again, he'll tell you everything,” Svenja replied, adding that edge to her voice that seemed to soothe you more than even the raging river in front of them.

“If,” Cherise corrected her sadly, still in that quiet tone that wasn't much more than a breath. “If I see him again.”

In any normal situation, Svenja would have tried to reassure her. She would tell her to stop worrying; that she would see him again. But she didn't have to lie to make Cherise feel better. Cherise already knew that there was no way of knowing what would happen... and chances were that things would not go as well as she would like them to.

Cherise fell into a thoughtful silence; finally, she decided to ask something else, something to lighten up the mood. “What's your sister's name?”

“Her name is Charlotte. Quite different from my own name, isn't it?” She laughed a little and added, “I don't mind. I like what my name means. And...” She trailed off with a shrug, but Cherise suspected that she had been about to say something but changed her mind.

Cherise refrained herself from sighing again. Yet another secret... well, that was nice for her self-esteem.

You're nosy, her conscience scolded her. That's your problem. To feel important you need to know everything about everything. That's just not going to work, so as long as you remain that way, you'll never feel important...

“Do you and Charlotte live alone?” she asked quietly, entirely to ignore the voice in her head.

“Yes...” Sven trailed off, obviously to stop herself from giving away painful memories. Well, as long as her conscience was with her, Cherise decided to no press for it. What wasn't her business, simply wasn't her business. “But my sister's in her early twenties, so we're fine on our own.”

“Oh,” Cherise said softly, gazing at the river. Sometimes she wished she could follow the river... and wherever it went would lead her away from this town. Away from this tiny, isolated town... away from all the secrets... wherever such a beautiful river led, must be worth being.

“Why did your family move back here?” asked Svenja curiously.

“My mother wanted to come back to where her family had lived. I think it was the stories her mother told her... and she became fascinated and intent on returning here. So she did...” She didn't think about whether or not I'd be happy here, though, she added silently.

“And you don't like it here,” Sven guessed suddenly, voicing her thoughts almost at the same time she had been thinking them.

“No,” Cherise forced herself to say, surprisingly for the first time in years. “No, I don't.” And this was the first time she said this directly to anyone other than her mother.

“If you don't mind my asking... why don't you like it here?”

“I just... don't think...” Cherise trailed off, and knew how terribly hurtful what she was about to say would sound to someone who had grown up here and liked it. It was ironic, too. Cherise, also, had practically grown up here. “There's nothing here.” She got straight to the point. “Nothing at all. Sometimes I can't stand the emptiness. That road in front of the gate just taunts me. It makes me wonder what must be on the other end. It makes me wonder where I came from and whether I would fit in better there than in here. And... it's so... boring to me. Especially when I don't know anything about anyone, except for my own family.” She realized tears were streaming down her face. “When he suddenly appeared, I finally found something to look forward to. He was the highlight of the whole day. And yet, he barely told me anything. But I put up with that because I wanted to be a good friend. And now he's gone and he might not be coming back...” She trailed off and shut her eyes tight.

When Svenja finally replied, it was far from the reaction distraught Cherise had expected. “You're right, hon,” she mumbled, also huddling up on the bench and staring distractedly out at the raging river. “Every word you said is absolutely right. I'm sorry you feel that way. Believe me, I have felt that way more than once, but...” She shrugged a little. “I'm not quite that bored. Let's leave it at that.”

“Hi, you two,” said a sudden voice, startling her out of her reverie. Cherise whirled around, a little faster than she had meant to, to look at Gabrielle, standing behind the bench. She looked bewildered; clearly she had heard every word. “Mind if I join you?”

Cherise was shaky; she took a second to pull herself together enough to nod a little. Gaby sat to her right, and then she realized that she was seated in the middle of her two best friends.

Garrett can't be classified as a best friend anymore, she realized, accepting a gentle hug from Gabrielle. He's much more.

“Just so you know,” Gaby said after a moment of silence, “I know even less about this than you do, Cher. So don't cry. I wish I knew why you've been practically ignoring me all these days, but since I also want to be a good friend, I'll force myself to live with what I already know. And I think that's what you have to do. It's not easy, but if you want to keep a friend, it's not that difficult.”

“Cherise?” Svenja said suddenly, a bit of alarm in her tone.

This caused her to turn and look at her. “What?” she stammered.

“I'd suggest staying away from the alleys tonight,” Sven replied, still frowning.

“Why?”

“I don't know. It's just a feeling. Don't go to the alleys tonight, or else something bad will happen, and we'll all be sorry.”

“How do you know?”

Sven shrugged. “I just know some things. But please take my advice.”

Cherise's frown deepened. She wanted to know what her friend was thinking... but she'd take her advice and not go to the alleys tonight. “Okay,” she agreed quietly.

Awkward silence followed.

“I don't believe we've met,” Gabrielle decided to speak up at last; she was talking to Svenja.

Sven smiled and turned to look at her. “We haven't.”

The sun set. They stayed outside all day. Finally, Svenja arose and went back home – not without reminding Cherise to stay away from the alleys – and she and Gabrielle remained alone.

“Wonder what your friend has against alleys tonight,” Gaby mused after a few seconds.

“I don't know,” Cherise replied honestly. “But whatever it is, I think it's best to trust her.”

Gabrielle shrugged. “Can I go to your house for dinner?” she asked suddenly.

“Sure. Why not yours?”

“I'm not cooking today, therefore I have no obligation to attend.”

Cherise giggled a little and arose. “Come on, then,” she said, and she could almost hear joy in her voice. She took her sketchbook and added, “My mother's missed you.”

“Has she?” Gaby replied, yawning a little.

“Yes... seems I'm ruining everybody's day.” She laughed dryly and turned to the river one more time before leading her friend down the road to her house. She kept strictly away from the alleys.