Echo -Complete-

*Click*
Picture after picture I take and you're there. Not really but on the camera screen.
You're in my dreams. Your touch sends me away yet I've never met you.
Kiss me again. Make me feel alive in my reverie.
Who are you?
If I feel this way in my dreams, why would I ever wake up?

***This story is based off the book 'Elixir' by Hillary Duff. I will not/do not copy word for word nor do I steal the whole concept. If you've read that book and you see similarities, this is the reason why.

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5. Memory

A/N: As it says in the blurb, this story is based on a book I read a while back. I tried to make this chapter as different as possible without copying the book or loosing the main points. If you've read 'Elixir' by Hilary Duff than that's why there is so much comparison...just saying.

-Mone'

I’m Olivia sat in a rowboat with Zayn in a river.

“If you think the Society is ridiculous, tell your father you won’t go!” I said.

“And loose my father’s share of the family fortune? If I did that you’d have to leave me for Menice, a fiancé who could give you what you’re accostumed.”

“Paint, canvas, and you. That’s all I need. Maybe more talent.”

Zayn gave me a stern look. He adored my work and scolded me for doubting them. He was biased and I often told him that.

“Food? You need food.”

“Wild fruits and vegetables.”

“A home?”

“We’ll build a hut.”

“Clothing?” he asked.

I gave him a knowing smile and he nearly tipped the boat.

“Zayn! I can’t swim!” I cried, clutching the sides of the boat.

He laughed.

“So what do you do at the Society meetings?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“My lips are sealed” I promised.

“Mine aren’t.”

He shifted so he was sitting directly in front of me and spilled every word.

“The Society, my love, is a group of very wealthy people –including me—who have gotten so bored counting money that they’ve made up a fairytale…The Elixir of Life!” he says the last part in a stage whisper.

“The what? What does it do?”

“It’s an elixir…that grants eternal life.”

I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm, “Does it work?”

“What do you think?”

“Well…the Society dies so…that put an end to the argument?”

“To me, yes. To the believers, no. They say it should be used in small amounts to take away pain from someone who is dying.”

“Seems like a waste.”

“A waste of time! Every meeting is three hours long! Do you have any idea what I could do with three hours Olivia?” He set me up for that one.

“I could think of a few things” I gave him another smile.

He grinned and leaned in, kissing my lips, my cheek, my neck.

“Zayn” I breathed as we slid to the floor of the boat, “I really can’t swim.”

“Mmm, we’ll have to be careful now, won’t we?”

I woke to the sound of scratching. At first I thought it was scraping along the bottom of the boat. Then some time passed and I remembered I wasn’t in a boat, I was in a cave. And I wasn’t Olivia, I was Janae.

I wasn’t with Zayn.

I was still sleepy so I just opened my eyes.

The moonlight reflected off of Zayn as he crouched down on the ground, holding a small rock.

The light casted over his skin. He was beautiful.

He stumbled a bit, landing back on his elbows. Ouch. He winced a bit and with his jacket being off, the blood was obvious.

He glanced up and I quickly closed my eyes. The scratching stopped. He was looking at me, dammit.

Then it started again.

I counted before opening my eyes again. What was he doing? Without moving my head I glanced down at the floor in front of him.

It was a picture of me, asleep.

Incredible.

It looked far more amazing than what I really looked like in my sleep.

He looked up again and I was quick to close my eyes.

“You can keep pretending if you want but an acting career isn’t coming very soon for you” he teased.

“You knew?”

“I knew even before you woke up. Your breathing changed.”

He went back to drawing. “Sweet dreams?”

I froze as I felt myself blush. I remembered our activity at the bottom of the boat.

“I don’t know, can’t remember. Why?”

“No reason…heard my name.”

I hope the darkness hides my crimson cheeks. “Hmm, that’s…weird. People say dreams sort out things that occur when you’re awake.”

“Sort anything out?”

“As I said before, I can’t remember.”

The look he gave me told me that he didn’t believe me.

“Can I look?” I asked, nodding towards his work.

“Sure. I’m done.”

I excitedly went and looked at it. I settled next to him as I awed.

“It’s amazing. I’ve never had anyone draw a picture of me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think she looks like you?”

Yet again, embarrassment crosses my features. Of course she isn’t me. As I take a second look at the woman, she is much more beautiful than I am. Her features are more defined.

My mind is messing with me. My dreams are JUST dreams.

“She does look a bit like you.”

I stammered for something to say. “Who is she?”

“Someone I loved a long time ago.”

Poor Zayn.

I thought of something.

“Let me see your elbow.”

“Elbow?”

“Yeah, I saw you fall and you scraped them up pretty bad.”

“No, it’s fine” he waved me off.

“Let me look.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, we’re in a cave.”

I gave him a stern look.

“Fine.”

I lifted his arm and saw nothing.

The scrape was gone. Completely gone.

No one heals that face.

My eyes widened at the realization that…Zayn did. In my dream. I suddenly felt like Emaline again with the rose thorns.

“What is it, doctor?” he smirked.

Should I tell him of the dreams?

“Hey guys” Mason’s groggy voice said. I let out a relieved sigh. At least I won’t have to tell him now.

Zayn seemed a little more relaxed too as he grabbed his jacket and shrugged it back on.

“Come on, its dark out. We should go” he suggested.

“I thought you said tomorrow?” Mason questioned.

“I think the night will do us good, don’t you?” Zayn’s harsh tone nearly frightened me but I knew he was only annoyed my Masons curiosity.

We nodded and watched as Zayn took both of our phones.

“Um, what are you doing?” I asked, hoping not to get on his bad side like Mason seems to be.

“As I said, completely under the radar. No phones” he said and smashed them.

“What the hell!” Mason exclaimed. Zayn only rolled his eyes and kicked the pieces of our phone away so they’d scatter.

“Is your ankle okay?” he asked. I nodded and stood up along with the both of them.

“We have to stop somewhere first.”

We exited the cave and quickly made our way out of the forest, hailing a cab on the road.

Mason didn’t like any of this. He kept saying that people would worry because we have no form of communication back home. I looked at him like he was crazy, saying he was the one that wanted to find the ‘Elixir’ in the first place. Men.

We got out of the cab and Zayn led us into another path in the forest. We followed him for a while until my feet were hurting…badly.

“How much longer?” I asked.

“We’re here.”

I saw nothing but a bunch of trees. Mason looked up in awe, I followed his eyes and saw an amazingly hidden wood and glass cabin high in the trees.

“It’s like a glorified tree house” I giggled.

I took out my camera and snapped a picture, ignoring Zayn’s objecting face. “For my eyes only, not the Global Inquirer.”

We followed him up the many steps and went inside.

 It was…everything. The best place to live I’ve ever seen, by far.

“How could you ever leave?” I gaped.

“Do we get a tour?” Mason asked.

“No. Only here for some supplies.”

As Zayn rummaged through some things, Mason and I explored his main room.

“Zayn, is this…this is a real Michelangelo?”

“Yeah it is.”

“But its Michelangelo!”

Ugh, I hate nerd talk. “Bathroom?” I ask, trying to slip out of here.

Zayn pointed to a hall that obviously branched off to another section of his home.

Did I really have to use the bathroom? No. When I found a room I knew it had to be Zayn’s. I noiselessly opened the door and was stunned to see that it wasn’t a bedroom but just a room full of art work.

Some were in progress and others were completed and wonderful.

Almost everyone was one of four women.

Women I knew.

Women I’d been in my dreams.

They didn’t look exactly like me in my dreams but the comparison was extraordinary. I definitely knew who they were.

One woman laughed while holding the sides of a boat on a river. Olivia.

One’s long curly black hair flowed wildly behind her as she rode her horse. Caroline.

Another studied her face while applying her stage makeup. Emaline

And another leaned against a piano while she sang. Jasmine.

There were much more. Mostly water color.

One of two men in the Renaissance, posing funnily. I’d painted this. It was of Zayn and Gianni. I remember ordering them to stay still.

I looked to the bottom and saw a signed, single O. Her signature. My signature?

What was this? Were my dreams…memories? From past lives? What about Zayn? He looked exactly the same. You can’t be reincarnated to look the same…right?

Should I ask Zayn of this?

I was going to leave the room when another painting caught my eye. I walked towards it and saw that it was an eye. A blank eye.

It was Olivia’s and she was dead. Blood was everywhere and her iris charm was laid in her own pool.

I winced away from it. I’d live this nightmare a few nights back.

Was this a painting of my own death?

I flipped to another, my curiosity getting the worse of me.

It was of Emaline. She was sprawled on the floor of an all white room, the only color being of her red lips, iris charm necklace, black hair and brown dead eyes. A single rose pushed deep into her heart.

I couldn’t look at this one anymore. I felt sick.

I went through another. Jasmine’s death seemed clean with a single hole of a bullet between her eyes.

Caroline’s was absolutely horrible. I wanted to cry. She screamed as bonfire flames engulfed her as she was tied securely to a stake.

No more…no more.

I was to leave again but yet another thing was caught in me peripheral vision. Damn all this interesting stuff!

There were nails in a wall. Five in total, in a line. Four of them  held nice iris charm necklaces but the fifth…the fifth was empty.

Waiting.

I ran out the room and locked myself in the bathroom.

Was he going to kill me?

Oh my…was he a serial killer?!

Were the necklaces his souvenirs? The ones on the walls were of happy times but the others made me want to faint.

Was he some kind of ageless killer that didn’t just kill random people but them…me…over and over again?

 

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