Page 59 of Afflicted

What I didn’t expect to see was Juliet fade away.

As the days wear on, she becomes paler and thinner. Her freckles stand out against the pallor of her skin. Her eyes are blank. She stops coming to the gym. She barely gets involved in gardening, which she always loved before. She doesn’t sneak off to the stream anymore, which I try to convince myself is just because it’s cooler now.

But that’s not it.

She screamed when they told her Matt had died. Even amongst his betrayal, she still felt something for him. It wasn’t all just erased.

On a stormy afternoon, I head across the yard as thunder rumbles overhead, and I spot Juliet sitting on a bench, knees pulled up to her chin. She’s hugging her legs tightly, staring out at the falling rain.

I approach her slowly, making sure she can hear my footsteps.

“Hey,” I say once I’m beside her. “What’re you doing out here all on your own?”

“Just listening to the rain,” she replies, her chin bouncing gently on her knees. “I like the rain.”

I sit down on the bench, smiling. “So do I. But being English I suppose I don’t have much choice there.”

Her face softens into something that’s not quite a smile, her eyes not meeting mine. “Do you miss it?”

“Not really. I mean, bits and pieces yeah. But England is just a lot of painful memories now.” Shit, this isn’t the conversation I should be having to try and cheer her up. “But anyway, that doesn’t matter.”

“I used to be a swimmer.” Her lower lip trembles a little. “I like the water, I like the rain. That’s why I go down to the stream. My mom, she…” She trails off, giving a small, sad laugh. “She wanted a water birth, but because she had twins she wasn’t allowed to. So she always joked that I was mad I missed out on my water debut. That’s why I spent so much of my life in the water.” Her eyes are glistening with tears as she looks at me. “My hair was green when I was a kid, sun-bleached and green from chlorine. I was in the water all day.”

“I bet you were a great swimmer.”

She nods, her eyes drifting back to the falling rain that drums heavily on the tin roof above us. “I had a scholarship to college. A swimming scholarship. They said I’d make the Olympic team. I didn’t want to do that though, I just wanted to do it to enjoy it.” She smiles wistfully. “I really wanted to be an art teacher. I mean, I think I did. I always loved drawing. I was kind of good at it.”

“I was an art major.”

Her eyebrows shoot up as she looks at me. “Really?”

“Yep.” I nod, looking out at the rain. “Drove my family crazy, my room always stank of oil paint, no tea towel in the house was safe from becoming a paint rag.”

She chuckles a little, and I look back quickly to see that face, that face that isn’t haunted by sadness. She tucks her hair behind her ear, and hugs her legs a little tighter. “Who’s your favorite artist?”

I exhale heavily. “That’s hard to say. I think Degas. I loved all those dressing room paintings, especially as a teenage boy. Gave me an excuse to look at tits without getting in trouble.”

Juliet bursts out laughing. “I bet.”

“And how about you?”

Her lips twitch. “I don’t know. I think Jackson Pollock. Everyone says it’s all just a mess, but I think it’s beautiful. I like art where you can, I don’t know, imagine yourself in it, you know? Like, what was that person thinking when they made that painting? What were they feeling? And you look at it and go, oh yeah. I get it. I’ve seen the world that way too.”

My girl isn’t just beautiful. She’s smart too. I could listen to her talk like this forever. “And what did you like to draw?”

“I did a lot of still life, flowers and stuff. I liked doing roses, all those petals. I liked drawing people too, but I could never get the hands right.”

I nod. “Hands aren’t easy.”

“What did you like to paint?” Her eyes are bright now, full of life and curiosity.

I give her a crooked grin. “I did a lot of life art.”

“Oh, you really like tits, huh?”

I chuckle as she smiles from behind her fingers. “I’ve always liked bodies. Drawing them is fun, just how different we all look. Shapes and colors and all of that. I love it.”

“So that’s what you were before you were turned? An artist? Because I thought you were a doctor.”

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