There is Someone Knocking

The autumn leaves crashed against the edge of the pavement as the heavy raindrops fell from the seasonal storm. The wind howled and rattled against the wooden window panes, each drop tapping loudly against the glass. The small log fire offered the only source of light and heat in the large but dusty room occupied by the woman sitting perched on her Victorian reclining chair.

The walls were adorned with steep and high oak bookcases, each coated lightly with dust. The small but intense figure sat reading, thumbing each finished page with childlike enjoyment. The fire’s light flickered intermittently, casting shadows on the darkened walls.

As she looked up, she gazed mesmerized at the large pendulum in the glass case. Its steady swing indicated the passage of time while not maintaining interest in the purpose it served. Sitting calmly, she contemplated that people are the only ones who search for meaning in situations that rarely need one. Her thoughts were broken suddenly by the sound of rapping by the windows sill.

Rushing to the sound of the noise, her heart sped up in hopes that he would have appeared. He was her constant companion as she lay recovering from her surgeries in childhood, her secret friend, one nobody else could see but her.

The incessant and pervasive knocking continued, making the fragile glass vibrate in the wooden frame. The continuous sound reverberated around the lavishly decorated room, matching the noise of her footsteps on the cold wooden floor. Running to the floor length window, her tiny fingers grasped the latch before her eyes spied the bare tree branch that was assaulting the pane of glass with its slender and naked branches.

Looking hopefully into the fog drenched night sky, her feminine voice called to him. “My Raven,” she whispered into the howling wind. Feeling the longing for him swell into her core and shoot down her limbs, memories danced across her mind of their first encounter.

“He was outside my window,” she persisted as she crossed her arms over her tiny chest in a pout, careful not to dislodge the IV tube from her arm.

“Sweetheart, are you in any pain?” asked the nurse as her curly blonde hair danced over her shoulders.

“No,” she responded in direct defiance. “He promised to read this story to me,” she continued loudly as she held up a copy of Make Way for Ducklings. “Give me My Raven!” she stretched impatiently at the cheerful nurse.

Of course, no one believed that a handsome stranger had dared to visit her. The mind makes up fantasies to live through trauma and pain, the doctors had reassured her parents. There was always the matter of the strong narcotics pumped into her tiny veins. Exhausted, frustrated, and tired, she had almost certainly concocted this individual, reasoned the medical professionals.

Time passed and he remained with her. She quickly grew silent about his presence, preferring instead to enjoy his company in secret. Transitioning from a small child to a grown woman was natural, or so it seemed, but time never seemed to hold her visitor in its grasp. His midnight eyes still contained the vital youth that she met long ago. Those black eyes always captivated her. Why were they so intense? she questioned herself.

“Because I want to burn the world, My Little One,” came the response from the empty space behind her.

Bounding to him with all of the energy of a hyperactive fox, she wrapped her arms around his slender frame, noticing his usual tailored black suit. Running his fingers through her dark hair, he exhaled deeply. She hopefully pondered, could it be that he missed her just as much?

He beamed at her with pride as he studied her, “You look at me as if I am magical, but you have quickly become my very world,” he stated in his beautiful accent that gave away every place he had ever lived, but yet, somehow, could not very easily be described. Gazing into his black eyes, they suddenly became red as embers as she smiled at him.

Suppressing a small chuckle as he pressed his lips into hers, he stated with an unusual air of nervousness, “Would you like to belong to me forever?” as he brought a velvet box from deep within the pockets of his coat.

Written by Raven and Isabella.