mists of Beginnings. Like Anita, I do not know why it is important that you have it, but there it is.”
“Is it the same thing as an engagement ring?”
“No. Engagement is much too weak a word. Betrothal is a resolute and firm commitment, a declaration of marriage sometimes years before its consummation. This is a ring the groom will give his bride as promise of a wedding.”
“Thank you, Gerald.” He leaned forward to touch her forehead, and though she tensed at the intimate gesture, she allowed it.
With that John escorted the Scholars out of the room. Simon, the last to exit, turned, smiled, and bowed slightly.
For a time Lilly sat quietly and tried to grasp the events of the day, but reflecting only seemed to make her more anxious. She hoped that Han-el was real and close, but that also meant the Angel was probably aware of her deceptions, and the possibility shamed her. Even so, the very thought of any Guardian was a comfort.
Unexpectedly, it also raised a different memory: the face of another man whom she couldn’t quite place.
Eight
----
M IRRORED I NTENTIONS
E arlythe next morning, as the whispers of sunrise began interrupting the shades of night’s rhythms, Lilly made her first journal entry into the diary John had given her. Invited by its open space, she unloaded parts of her burden and took to writing like an eagle soaring, carried away on invisible drafts into vistas of honesty she had never intentionally explored.
Despite what John says, I don’t really think I am a writer. Ha, here I am already making excuses and I’m the only one who will ever read this.
I don’t know what I am or what is real. Half the time I think I’m crazy and surrounded by crazy people, and the other half I’m just confused and a mess of angry, overwhelming, horrid emotions.
Sometimes, I just want to scream until I can’t. I don’t want anyone to care, and then I do and that makes me mad, and then maybe I want to die.
Of all the people I’ve met here, I like John the most, but I’m really intrigued by this new guy, one of the Three Magi (I think that’s what they were called in the Sunday school stories, although I’m not the baby Jesus they were looking for). His name is Simon and he’s older than me but closest of anyone to my age. Anita and Gerald gave me a key and a Betrothal ring, but Simon said he would bring me his gift later. I think he just wanted to talk to me alone. I keep wondering about him, like he’s dangerous in a good way.
Yesterday was completely nuts. So much happened I don’t even know where to start. Eve took me to see Adam—it sounds nuts just to even write that—but anyway, we ran into a talking snake that scared the crap out of me. Then the Magi showed up and I saw Letty for the first time. I still don’t know why she is always humming. Then they told me that I’m a Witness to Beginnings. I didn’t tell them Eve already told me that.
I’ve been looking at my arms. Maybe I was a cutter, in the other life. That really scares me too. It might be better if I can’t remember, but I can’t seem to stop the flashbacks or the hallucinations either.
I watch the waves and the tides. It’s like wanting to live and wanting to die, tide coming in and tide going out. Most of the time all I can see is the waves and can’t even tell which tide it is. I wonder if Simon is going to come and see me today? Probably not.
At the thought of Simon she pulled back the covers to examine the foot that was not hers. She wondered about the girl to whom it had belonged. It appeared completely functional, though much whiter than her right foot, and freckled.
Women who were dressed as if they belonged to a religious order soon showed up and assisted her with her morning rituals. They were perpetually quiet and kind and smiled a lot, their presence comfortable and welcome. Then John appeared with breakfast, which heralded the beginnings of real food, though it was pasty and bland. He said her bodily
“Is it the same thing as an engagement ring?”
“No. Engagement is much too weak a word. Betrothal is a resolute and firm commitment, a declaration of marriage sometimes years before its consummation. This is a ring the groom will give his bride as promise of a wedding.”
“Thank you, Gerald.” He leaned forward to touch her forehead, and though she tensed at the intimate gesture, she allowed it.
With that John escorted the Scholars out of the room. Simon, the last to exit, turned, smiled, and bowed slightly.
For a time Lilly sat quietly and tried to grasp the events of the day, but reflecting only seemed to make her more anxious. She hoped that Han-el was real and close, but that also meant the Angel was probably aware of her deceptions, and the possibility shamed her. Even so, the very thought of any Guardian was a comfort.
Unexpectedly, it also raised a different memory: the face of another man whom she couldn’t quite place.
Eight
----
M IRRORED I NTENTIONS
E arlythe next morning, as the whispers of sunrise began interrupting the shades of night’s rhythms, Lilly made her first journal entry into the diary John had given her. Invited by its open space, she unloaded parts of her burden and took to writing like an eagle soaring, carried away on invisible drafts into vistas of honesty she had never intentionally explored.
Despite what John says, I don’t really think I am a writer. Ha, here I am already making excuses and I’m the only one who will ever read this.
I don’t know what I am or what is real. Half the time I think I’m crazy and surrounded by crazy people, and the other half I’m just confused and a mess of angry, overwhelming, horrid emotions.
Sometimes, I just want to scream until I can’t. I don’t want anyone to care, and then I do and that makes me mad, and then maybe I want to die.
Of all the people I’ve met here, I like John the most, but I’m really intrigued by this new guy, one of the Three Magi (I think that’s what they were called in the Sunday school stories, although I’m not the baby Jesus they were looking for). His name is Simon and he’s older than me but closest of anyone to my age. Anita and Gerald gave me a key and a Betrothal ring, but Simon said he would bring me his gift later. I think he just wanted to talk to me alone. I keep wondering about him, like he’s dangerous in a good way.
Yesterday was completely nuts. So much happened I don’t even know where to start. Eve took me to see Adam—it sounds nuts just to even write that—but anyway, we ran into a talking snake that scared the crap out of me. Then the Magi showed up and I saw Letty for the first time. I still don’t know why she is always humming. Then they told me that I’m a Witness to Beginnings. I didn’t tell them Eve already told me that.
I’ve been looking at my arms. Maybe I was a cutter, in the other life. That really scares me too. It might be better if I can’t remember, but I can’t seem to stop the flashbacks or the hallucinations either.
I watch the waves and the tides. It’s like wanting to live and wanting to die, tide coming in and tide going out. Most of the time all I can see is the waves and can’t even tell which tide it is. I wonder if Simon is going to come and see me today? Probably not.
At the thought of Simon she pulled back the covers to examine the foot that was not hers. She wondered about the girl to whom it had belonged. It appeared completely functional, though much whiter than her right foot, and freckled.
Women who were dressed as if they belonged to a religious order soon showed up and assisted her with her morning rituals. They were perpetually quiet and kind and smiled a lot, their presence comfortable and welcome. Then John appeared with breakfast, which heralded the beginnings of real food, though it was pasty and bland. He said her bodily
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