Элла Франк - Blind Obsession

“Promise?” she demanded quickly, her voice shaking.

He stroked unsteady fingers down her cheek, and he gripped her hand tightly. “I promise.”

The sun had finally been replaced by the moon, and as the rain continued to fall on them, he moved around to where Chantel’s head was. Placing his hands beneath the water, he lifted her up so that her head was free of the now rapid current moving quicker with every passing minute. He could feel the water creeping up his body while it lapped above his waist as it covered her entire lower half.

“Phillipe?” she whispered softly.

Looking down, he could see her eyes were open, staring up at him. Battling his tears, he squeezed her head gently as he stood there completely helpless to do anything.

“Yes?” he managed to ask.

“Talk to me,” she requested.

Biting his bottom lip he tipped his head back, feeling the rain fall onto his face. How can I possibly talk to her? What am I supposed to say? She was stuck to the bottom of a river that was fucking rising, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. A river he had brought her to! A river he had put her in. I am killing her.

“Phillipe?” she murmured again. “What are you thinking?”

Feeling an uncontrollable sob tear from him, he confessed, “I’m thinking that I should never have brought you here.”

She reached back and grasped one of his hands holding her head. She was miraculous. Even in a situation like this, she was comforting him.

“No, don’t do that,” she told him firmly.

He leaned down and pressed an upside-down kiss to her lips. They were cool from her body now having been in the water for so long. As he felt her mouth part softly beneath his own, his tears fell, joining the moisture already on her cheeks.

“I’m cold,” she whispered against his mouth.

Sucking back an anguished sob he straightened his body.

“I know, Beauty,” he acknowledged. “I’m so sorry. God, am I sorry.”

He felt a shiver rack her body as her eyes closed.

“Shhh, don’t do that,” she told him.

The rain continued, and the river rose. There was absolutely nothing he could do but hold her and try to calm her. He was fucking useless.

“Don’t do what?” he asked as clearly as he could.

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head at the absurdity of that. “I brought you here. I put you in this fucking river, Chantel. Let my guilt take place. Trust me, I deserve it.”

Her small teeth—teeth that had once bitten down on him in moments of pleasure—now bit down on her bottom lip to keep from trembling and crying.

“Guilty? What are you guilty of?”

“Everything,” he confessed as he stroked a hand down her cheek.

“Do you see the lights over there?” she asked.

Closing his eyes, he blocked out what she was telling him.

“You don’t see lights over there, Chantel. You can’t see anything,” he reminded her gently.

“Just like you can’t be guilty,” she pointed out gently.

He watched her wet lips part on a soft sigh.

“Don’t let them make a villain out of you. Don’t let them break you.”

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers again, knowing what she was trying to tell him, but the truth was the lights were there. They were coming, and it was his fault.

He raised his mouth from hers and looked into sightless eyes. “You can’t break a man that’s already broken.”

Water swirled around them, and as it moved above his waist, he firmly planted his feet and continued holding her. Her lower body pulled her down as he pulled her up. He refused to let her go. His arms were shaking from the rigid position he had been holding for some time now. Still, she lay there calm, almost resigned, as he felt his heart being torn from his chest, knowing he was watching her being pulled away from him.

He cursed God and pleaded with Him to take him instead, but he knew it was pointless. This could only end one way. As he stood there helpless, he knew that was the cruelest fate of all. He knew how this was going to fucking end, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

She had closed her eyes earlier. He guessed it was around twenty minutes ago. She hadn’t opened them or spoken since. He needed to hear her to reassure himself that she was still there, still fighting this losing battle with him.

“Chantel,” he urged softly. His throat was sore from silently crying as he gripped her head in his hands, praying he was strong enough to hold her. “Chantel.”

He now stood in water chest deep as the rain hit the back of his neck where his wet shirt clung to him. All he felt was numb.

“Wake up,” he whispered. “Come on, Beauty. It’s time to wake up.”

Eyes of gray opened. Eyes that held his soul focused as a small smile touched lips of red.

“You stay with me, okay?” he ordered firmly, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

Those same lips smiled slowly, and he felt his heart crack in two.

“It’s too cold. I can’t feel my feet anymore.”

“That’s just because they’re numb.” He tried to reassure her as a shiver racked her entire body again. Biting his lip hard, he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision to see her clearly.

“I’m not scared, Phillipe, not anymore.”

Shaking his head, he finally lost the tight grip he had on his emotions. He let the tears fall down his face as his body shook from the soul-shattering pain it was enduring.

“I’m not scared, not as long as you’re here with me.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “The water is much higher now. I can feel it against my chin.” Suddenly, she cried out, “Diva!”

The name broke free from her cool lips with a surprising burst of force.

“You must take Diva, Phillipe. Don’t let them have her. They don’t understand…” Her voice faded as the eyes that held his soul pleaded with him. “She is me, and I belong to you.”

Swallowing in as much air as he could, he pushed out the only reassurance he could now give. “Don’t you worry. I won’t let Diva go, and I won’t leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He tried to hold her higher, but he couldn’t make her move, not even an inch.

The last thing she whispered was, “Neither am I.”

As he stood there for the next thirteen-and-a-half hours, the water rose to his shoulders, far above Chantel’s chin, far above where he was able to hold her. Then, it fell away, leaving him cradling her in water up to his thighs.

She left him in a peaceful river that turned out to be the most deceptive place of all.

I am still standing behind him as the final words leave his mouth. Tears are streaming down my face, and I can feel my heart breaking for the agonizing loss he had suffered. As soon as he turns toward me, his face is etched in sorrow and pain, and his eyes are bloodshot from the tears he’s shed while laying his soul bare. I have no words for him, not one. How do you give a tortured man absolution? How do you convince him it was not his fault when he so clearly believes that it was?

As he makes his way to move by me, I reach out and grip his arm. He stops as I turn. Looking up at him, I see an expression so broken that I’m surprised he’s still able to breathe.

I offer him the only thing I am able. “She never did leave here that day.”

As his eyes search my face, his expression never wavers as he moves away from me.

“Neither did I.”

I don’t remember how long I sit there on the riverbank, but as the sun begins to set, I feel as though the darkness is engulfing my very soul. This is it. I knew that at some stage, this would all be over. I just didn’t expect to feel as desolate as I now do, sitting here on the lonely mossy bank.

The river, fluid and seamless as ever, continues to flow silent and strong, breathing life into its inhabitants, yet it remains as a cruel reminder of the life it took away.

Running my hands over my face and through my hair, I make myself stand. I know I can’t prolong this for much longer. I need to go back. I have to say good-bye.

Staring out into the night, the inky water swirls and shifts around the rocks. As I look up into the stars, I wonder how Chantel really felt that night.

How does one feel, knowing that her time is running out? Terrified? Angry? Or am I projecting my own feelings? Was she peaceful? That’s what I like to believe. I wonder if she felt scared. Did his arms bring her some semblance of comfort? A moment of solace?

Blinking away the brightness of the stars, I look out once more to where the moon now shines over the trees lining the bank opposite me. As I stand there, I feel her come from out of the shadows. However, this time, I’m not scared. This time, as I stand here looking across the wide body of running water, I feel my heart splinter and crack, wishing I could reach out to her. I wish I could be the one to comfort her. Am I insane? Ghosts don’t exist. I know that, but my eyes and the feeling I have deep inside my chest won’t let it go. Although I might be hallucinating, as I stand here on the bank of the Fleuve  Sauvage de Fleurs, I can see her.