• The Only

    Chapter 1
    I'm dancing with my sweet love, laying against her soft skin. All of this seems like a dream, a faint memory, but I go along with it anyway, cherishing the past. I don't want it to go, but sadly it must as I come back to reality. As I'm standing there, holding what seemed so real a few seconds ago I look over, now only seeing the dim basement, and the cracked space that used to a beautiful window, now shattered into a million pieces on the floor, a mess I had not bothered to clean up. All seemed lost in the broken life I had once shared with her.
    “Sir, dinner's ready” I heard bellowing from my servant downstairs.
    “I'm not hungry.”
    Knowing it would only hurt me more, but wanting to remember the past, I opened some boxes from long ago. Pictures of shared laughter, the writings of poems stashed away from years ago. I then decided to go downstairs, as Dean was calling me again, and his voice at least cheerier then what I had in front of me.
    “I'm coming,” I dully said as I walked down the stairs. Doubting he heard me, I yelled down to him again, surprising myself with the severity of my voice, but glad to be able to get a little anger out of my system.
    Luckily, Dean had taken the hint and gotten my favorite La Dure wine out of the cellar and was pouring a big glass of it for me. He had lived with me for four years now, and knew that some nights I just needed some brain numbing wine to sooth my pain.
    I came out of my thoughts as I sat down to the lovely roasted rabbit that had been killed earlier today on my weekly hunting trips. Usually it would be just me, but I liked it that way, being lost in my thoughts, one with the wild. I had always loved it, and even after Victoria's death five years ago, I had been glad I had had it, for the simple fact that it was a great way to blow off steam. Dean had begged to come before, but all the times I had came up with an excuse. The first few months I was able to convince him that he needed to train to use a gun . The rest of the time though, is truthfully because I didn't want to lose him, which was a silly thing to think considering nothing ever attacked me when I had been out in the forest for the last five years. At the young age of twenty one, he is like the son I never had. Sure, he was actually my servant, but its not like I picked him, he sorta picked me, and in essence, saved me, so we kinda have a love-hate bond that could never be broken.
    “Come eat, Dean, you've been working all day, you should take a break.”
    “Are you sure sir? The dishes need washing and...”
    “Thank you sir.”
    “I insist, you look starving.”
    We sat in silence, the huge dining hall echoing the small sounds of the occasional creak and crack of the swinging shutters. Being out in the middle of nowhere, It usually reflected my mood, empty and sorrowful. Knowing how I was, it's surprising to even me that Dean had stayed with me all these years. But god, I don't know what I would do without him...
    “Sir...” I glanced up, “I was wondering, if um, maybe I could come hunting with you sometime soon, I mean, I know you already went this morning so-”
    I looked at him, studying his sweet little face. His longing little face had looked just like Victoria's, the day that she finally convinced me to take her for the first time. But what good would sheltering him do. I had, for the last four years, and every time I thought he wasn't here I just about lost it, only to find him in the kitchen or out on the courtyard. I have always feared he would go look for another master, one who would go hunting with him and actually act like he enjoyed him. In my mind I knew that he would stay, but that lingering idea always haunted me.
    Right then, I finally made a decision. If something was going to happen to Dean, he should at least be happy, “ Yes, tomorrow morning sounds good, at the crack of dawn. You better be ready.”
    “Oh sir thank you I will!”
    That night Dean's face seemed to shine like never before, and so did mine.

    Chapter 2
    That morning Dean was like a kid waking up on Christmas morning, so joyful and ready to start the day head on. When I saw him, my first thoughts were those of selfishness for not giving him a chance before. But I could see in his eyes that he had forgave me. That is what I loved about Dean. He was so appreciative of the little things. He wasn't going to complain about not being able to go all these years, or stuff like that. Even though this should be expected of a servant, I did appreciate the small gesture.
    “Ok then, lets go.”
    Hunting was just the usually endeavor, minus the fact that I was constantly watching and worrying about Dean. Unlike me, he was on top of the world. I was surprised to see in just the morning of hunting that he really had true love for the sport. Sure, he wasn't the best, I mean it was his first actually day, but I saw that he was ready to learn, finally, after being caged up in that mansion for the last four years.
    After what seemed like forever I finally calmed down and stopped worrying as much about Dean. About ten minutes later, after I had started to aim at a buck in the distance with my still shaky hands, I realized Dean was gone, no where to be seen. AsI fell to the floor, I still thank god to this day that I couldn't even attempt to shoot that gun I had dropped just seconds before as memories started to flood my mind.
    A man, his wife, their young son, going out one day in the woods to have a picnic. The man goes fishing while the woman plays with the baby, not even a year old. Fish lying next to the man a little time later excite the baby so the mother brings the baby up to see them, only to slip into the ferocious waters no one dared to swim in. The man grabbed her at the last second, her face stricken with fear, no baby in her arms.
    I then, looking around, saw faintly the outline of Dean's body poised to shoot a rabbit a few meters away. I couldn't bear to take my eyes off him at that moment, as he looked like he would dart again into the woods, leaving me to have another panic attack. I followed him, hearing him shoot off a gun a few minutes later. Not a clean shot, but he was so proud of himself, the accuracy of the shot was just ignored. I, on the other hand, had not shot a single thing that morning, which didn't surprise me, considering that I was locked to Dean most of the trip. Finally, to my relief, we went home to cook the rabbit Dean would be boasting about the whole trip home. I didn't blame him , I remember when I was just a young chap, learning the ins and outs of a gun, and shooting my first rabbit at the ripe age of thirteen. Oh those were the days...
    I came out of my mind to realize we were home, back to the mansion, back to safety. Dean looked at me excitedly, asking me if he could cook the rabbit that he was so ecstatic about killing, even though it was only ten o' clock in the morning.
    “Go ahead, I said as I tried to make my best smile I could make at the moment, “ I'll be back in a second.”
    “Thank you sir!” he said as ran off in the kitchen. I could have swore that I laughed to myself just then, remembering how excited I was when I first shot that rabbit more then thirty years ago. No, I didn't have anyone to train me or anything, I just learned on my own, silently observing others, learning techniques. It started as a attempt to stay safe in the bustling streets of London, and turned into one of my favorite pastimes, one that I enjoyed with every fiber of my being. Every morning going out into nature, with nothing to care about but me and my gun. That was a fine life for me, until that fateful day Victoria came into my life. I was almost sixteen, and by then known very well known around the market for my hunting. I was just going to go sell some of the fine specimens I had caught that day when I saw her.
    “Hello, I heard you are well known around here for you furs,” she said with a quiet delicate voice.
    “Yeah....I....” I looked away with embarrassment with burning cheeks.
    She laughed, "I'll take one.”
    Without thinking I blurted out, “Oh you can have it.”
    “Really, I couldn't”
    “I insist,” I said with as much effort as I could at the moment.
    She gave me a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks,” grabbed her fur and was off.
    You see, I never seen a girl that was so pretty before. After age thirteen, ninety nine percent of my time was in the woods, and it wasn't common to see a person out there, let alone a pretty girl. That night I went home and hunted even harder then usual, with the hope that that girl would come back, and kiss me again.
    Oh those were the days. I just wish--
    “Sir, rabbits ready!!”
    I looked at my watch, 12:00. Wow, reminiscing really can eat up your day. Time to go back to reality...
    Chapter 3
    “Hi Devon,” I said with unexpected joy as I walked downstairs.
    We ate the rabbit which, not surprising, was delicious. Yes, Devon wasn't an experienced hunter, but he could make virtually anything taste good when he put his cooking skills to work. He told me that he was praised in his home village for this. This was a god send considering that most days I would rather loathe in my self pity then actually do anything for myself. Hell, I probably would've starved by now if he wasn't here.
    As soon as he was done, Dean looked at me, and I nodded, signaling he was free to go do whatever other cleaning or cooking that was needed around this huge house. Just like that, I was alone with my thoughts. Not that I usually wasn't, but now, I felt a strange happiness billowing up inside me. Looking down at the almost finished rabbit, I was proud of Dean. A sort of fatherly like joy I hadn't felt for so many years.
    As I finished my food, I stood up, satisfied, and walked out to kitchen. My walking slowed as I got closer.
    “Dean?” I asked with slowly shriveling hope as I walked through the kitchen, my heart starting to race. It was almost like I knew he would be there, but that slight possibility still lingered. Why was I freaking out? It no big deal! Dean is still here! I tried to calm myself, but it wasn't working. I was always upstairs without him, why am I freaking out now! I knew he would be back, he always came back. Inside myself I knew this, but that didn't stop me from becoming a soiled lump on the floor every time the slightest opportunity had arisen that he might leave.
    “Sir?”
    I got up, and with my head down, I raced upstairs away from my fear. You think I would of hugged him, or scolded him for leaving the room and leaving me in pain. The fact was, every time he walked back in to his master, strung out crying on the floor, it was, to say the least, embarrassing. No matter how many times he saw it, I tried to hide my pain, in hope I didn't reveal it to him. And god I would never scold him. In my fragile state, I won't be able to do anything anyway. That was a flaw about myself that I had always hated – I can very easily become an emotional mess, and once I start crying, it is hard to get me to stop.
    Half way up the stairs I still felt him following me. "Leave me alone,” I stammered out of pursed lips.
    He got closer. “It's okay si...”
    “Leave me alone!”
    His eyes met mine, my soiled eyes, that dripped the pain and suffering I had been feeling for the last six years, when William died.
    He then did something I was not expecting. He held me. I tried to leave his grasp but with clenching hands, he forced me back. Paralyzed I looked at him, his face holding even more worry than my own.
    “Why?”
    “Why what?”
    “Why did you try to kill yourself!”
    I tried looked away, but he didn't let me, tears now rolling down his face.
    After living with him for four years, you think I would of told him, us being so close and all. The sad truth was that I never had told him, of William, of Victoria, of anything. In vain I had kept my dark past away from the one person that had helped me escape it. All these years I had meant to, but fear of showing my true self had got in the way.
    I felt so guilty then, him looking at me, crying, just starring at me waiting for an answer.
    "Dean I…." was all I was able to get out before I started to cry again.
    He changed his look, which was much more softer then at hade been a few seconds ago, which made me feel better, considering the guilt I had felt just looking at him.
    "It's okay."
    Then he got up and walked away, leaving me on the stairs, astonished by what just happened. After a few minuets of sitting there and thinking it hit me. I felt relief. Relief that he did understand me, and that he did want to help. That he cared about me as much as I did about him. In the last six years, this feeling had become just a foreign memory, but at that moment, it came back. One other thing I love about Dean- he can so easily bring a smile to your face.
    Chapter 4

    I woke up, strewn across the stairs. Getting up, I felt a surge of pain go through me, which was expected considering I had spent my night on one of the most uncomfortable, hard surfaces in the whole house. Finally coming out of my grogginess I remembered the conversation I had with Dean last night. Then the fear came back. It was one of those frustrating fears you get when you feel guilty for not being able to tell someone something, but knowing you would most likely turn into a gooey mess of tears and self regret.
    "Sir, are you awake?" I heard Dean's small voice coming from the next room.
    I did my only instinct. I ran. Up the stairs, through the hallways, all the way to the room that I and Victoria had shared our first dance. Broken glass strewn the floor as I lay crying, the pain I had felt before only increasing with each passing second.
    "Sir, you're bleeding!" Dean screamed as he rushed over to me. In my rage I had managed to crush glass in my hands, and they were bleeding pretty badly. I felt so hopeless, so alone. Yet I had Dean right there, ready to listen to me.
    "Dean….I'm so….."
    "John it's okay."
    I felt like such a baby then, in his arms, crying my eyes out. As I started to feel better, I looked over, seeing a poem that I had made for Victoria, hanging out of the many boxes I had been looking through.
    The sun shines so brightly on your face,
    When I saw you, you brightened my day,
    My love is so true, my love is so pure,
    Come back soon, I'll hope you return…

    Love you,
    John

    I've got to be honest, I couldn't believe I was smiling. A few minutes ago I was crying my eyes out, and now I was laughing at my corny love letter to Victoria.
    "What's that?"
    "A poem for my deceased wife."
    Then came silence, so much awkward silence. It felt like my words had come out like stone, and Dean was sitting, just sitting there trying to think of what to say next.
    "Sorry if I sounded a bit harsh."
    "It's ok sir."
    "…"
    "I just felt so guilty for not telling you in the first place."
    I have got to say there were better things to do in a situation like that, but it was just so awkward, and to be frank, embarrassing. I looked at Dean and walked into the bathroom, finally realizing the pain of giant shards of glass being in my hands.
    "Sir do you need…"
    "No Dean, I'm ok, I said through gritted teeth, partly because there was glass protruding from my skin, but mostly because I felt like I was going to cry again.
    I looked behind me, Dean going down the stairs. I looked myself in the mirror of my former self. The mess I had become. And at that moment I made a promise to Dean, myself, and my well being that I would finally try to move forward.