Wallflower Ink

Chapter 34

· Merri ·

I sit on the front porch, listening to the passage of what will soon become one of the final nights of summer. Though I hold the familiar wine glass between my hands, I do not drink. Instead, I roll it thoughtfully between them, reflecting on the evening I've just spent with Jace and his family. I smile softly at the memory, then close my eyes and take a deep breath; I let it out slowly to join the warm evening air that envelops me.

They had been so happy, and I'm glad for the opportunity I'd been given to be a part of that. Just being included had made me feel warm in a way I have never experienced before, though I have come close enough to it with the Hallards to have an idea of what it feels like.

This is happiness, this warmth in my chest and this smile I can not rid from my face. This is what it feels like to be genuinely happy. And though that still gives me a pang of guilt, it is no longer the same pain that twists my insides until I actually feel ill with it.

What is happening to me, I wonder silently. I had long known my path, and had been perfectly content with the plans I'd made.

But somewhere along the course of the few weeks I've spent with Jace, my road has seemingly shifted beneath my feet, carrying me further and further away from the destiny I'd been convinced was the only one that could ever offer me any real peace.

I shake my head slowly at my thoughts then sip my wine and release a sigh. Nothing is as it should be, as my mind says it should be. But there is that small voice beneath that one who tells me I am wrong. Everyday it grows in its own confidence, shutting down the naysayer that resides in my brain, until sometimes I can't hear that one at all anymore.

And where had that gentle voice come from? In all my life I've never heard it before.

Of course the voices aren't actual voices, that is only what I call them. Though I will admit I am not fully sane, I am not crazy like that either--schizophrenia is not one of my many mental flaws. What I call voices are my feelings, the life-long melancholy versus ...

What?

I'm not quite sure what to call this new one, as it is just as foreign to me as would be the surface of Mars. It is a benign being I feel I want to know better, despite how it makes the familiar darkness in my mind cringe and bellow in protest.

The door eases open behind me and I put my musings away as I turn to look at Jace. He sits down next to me, holding an unopened bottle by its neck as he does. He glances over at me and the moonlight softens the smile he offers.

"Seems I wasn't the only one unprepared to end the celebration," he says, laughing a little as he points at my drink with his own.

From the slight slur of his speech I know the drinks he'd had at Joe's are still affecting him. I laugh lightly then look down at my glass.

"I have never been drunk."

"Never?"

I shake my head and look at the glass between my hands. I don't know why my confession leaves me feeling so empty. Have I really never done anything even remotely interesting in my life? Not until now, and even my recent adventures would never have happened had it not been for Jace. I think about that. Without his friendship, none of them would have even been possible.