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Vincent doubted her words but it didn't show. He just accepted her help for now. When inside he slumped down on the couch leaning forward so is elbows were rested on his knees and his chin in the palms of his hands.
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She saw him ball up out of the corner of her eyes as she left, but she decided to leave him alone for now. She sighed and finished her cake, then went to her room, noticing her brother would be home soon.
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Vincent tried to get the thought out of his head but he couldn't. Maybe she hadn't seen how he and the rest of his kind were treated at that place. "A prison," he muttered to himself with a slight shudder.
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She sighed when she heard a rapping on her door. She rested her arms across her knees and her head atop them, closing her eyes she recited the first poem she had ever heard "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore!" She said it quietly, and the whole time whoever it was tapping on her door never stopped to listen, never stopped that tapping, that tapping of a madman's heart. She growled slightly as she got up and flung open her door. "Why are you here and what do you want?" She demanded to the vanished tapper. She growled again and slammed her door shut. She walked back to her bed and sat, knees pulled high and her head resting upon her arms, which were strewn across her knees. |
Vincent felt himself relax finally and he stood up. After stretching he made his way up the stairs and down the hall to his room.
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She sighed when she heard the door down the hall close but didn't make any movements. She simply sat in her room, crumpled on her bed, and waited for that tapping to stop on her door.
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Vincent couldn't stay in his room and he left his room again. When he was in front of Risa's door again he stopped and looked at it. "Risa," he called out hoping she'd answer. "Can I talk to you?"
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When a voice cut through the tapping, making it stop she sighed in relief. "Yes, come on in..." She said, somehow, though, she felt distant, as if she was cut out of the world and alone in another, she tried to suppress that feeling but it seemed over powering, so she ignored it and opened the door.
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He entered slowly and looked around. "I'm very sorry," he said. "I was just told that my people could not dance or sing and I've been thinking about that place recently. It was a prison and its hard to forget."
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She smiled a little "No, I'm sorry, I have a bad temper, hotter than the thousandth sun, that's what they said." She said with a little laugh "Sorry I over reacted, and I'm so sorry you had to live through that, as a child no less!" She said it quietly, but they way she said it showed she was truly sorry about it. She sat back down on her bed and ran her fingers through her hair "I..I couldn't imagine a world without music..." She said even quieter, trying to imagine it.
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"It's... quiet," he said a bit bluntly. "I could barely imagine a world with music before." He admitted it sheepishly as if he'd done something horrible. He was looking at her now and knew she felt sorry for what he had been through. He sat down in a chair since he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. "I'm glad I got away. I never would have met you."
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She smiled "I know, this makes me sound horrid, but I'm glad I murdered my family, how else would I ever escape that...horrible place...and meet you?" She asked, not really asking, really stating.
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Vincent was silent for a moment. "It's a frightening memory I must admit," he said delicately. "I don't have any other clothes to wear and I feel quite dirty." He was staring at what he was wearing now with slight disgust.
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She snapped out of her detachment and smacked herself in the forehead "OH! Wow where have I been? I'm sorry! Here let me get you some. There's a shower in your room, I'll get you some new pairs of clothes tomorrow, for now these will have to do..." She said, walking into her brother's room and taking a pair of clothes, handing them to Vincent. "Sorry we don't have anything that would fit better.." She said, biting her lip.
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Vincent was a bit shocked when he was handed the clothes. "These are so nice," he said feeling the fabric. "Its amazing." He looked like a child in a candy store now, examining every bit of the cloth that was now in his hands.
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She arched an eyebrow "It's just cotton..." She said, as if it were the cheapest fabric available. Then she walked over to the window and looked out, seeing her brother returning from the town. She grumbled a little but didn't make any evasive move.
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"It's nice cotton though," Vincent said. "I'm used to ratty clothing that's passed down from someone else or from someone that died." He seemed to be a bit shameful at this admittance so he left to take a shower.
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She had no time to say anything so she kept quiet. She turned around just in time to see him walking out. She sighed and flopped on her bed, staring at the ceiling and soon falling asleep.
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The shower was short and he was glad to get out of it since he didn't like feeling unguarded. Once in the clothing he went into the hall way again.
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She was preoccupied by the song she was singing in her mind and tapping her hand on her bed, trying to drown out the everlasting tapping on her door. She sighed after singing it a few times and sat up, covering her ears.
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Vincent looked at the door, his hair still wet. "Still there?" he asked gently. He knocked gently though it wasn't a rapping, it was a solid thud on the door.
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She didn't move, she barely made a sound, just a faint "hmmm..." And hoped he would hear it, not caring or knowing if it was Benjamen or Vincent.
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Vincent heard the noise but was unsure. He opened the door slightly and looked in. "Risa," he said gently. "Thank you for the clothing."
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She looked up and smiled a little, simply nodding. She kept silent and offered her hand, reaching it out as if she could reach him from across the room with a smile on her face.
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He approached her slowly and took her hand in his and kissed it gently. He kept holding it though and was looking at her with a gentle smile.
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