26
HEIDI
Despite my exhaustion,it takes me forever to fall asleep. I'm too keyed up from the gorgeous men in my house, and the excitement of my strangely hyper inner doe isn't helping.
But when I finally do sleep, I dream.
For a while, it's normal. I dream about working in Stephanie's bakery before the Upheaval, and going out to watch a concert with Jessica and a few of our other friends. One or two brief dreams of my younger years flicker by without bothering me much.
Until all at once, an all-too-familiar dream of a memory I can't stand comes boiling up like hot mind vomit.
I'm seven years old again, sitting with my arms wrapped around my knees on a frayed, stained couch in a dim, smelly old cabin. I peek at the door the big, bald man went through. He left me in here alone a few minutes ago after starting this cartoon on the old, dusty TV.
I don't like the cartoon, though. It doesn't drown out the terror of the other children, who I can sense locked in one of the two rooms in this scary cabin. It doesn't drown out the sick,strange, dark, hungry,wrongfeelings of the adults who are now talking to the bald man in the other room.
Run,the animal inside me whispers.
But I can't. I'm too scared to move.
The scary, bald man showed up at my family's house wearing doctor clothes and told my mom he was there to pick me up for an appointment. Lately, she's been sending me off with all kinds of people to fix my face in private offices where no one will find out who I am.
I tried to tell my mom that the man was lying. I could tell from his feelings that he wasn't a real doctor.
I knew this man was doing something bad, but when I started crying about it, my mom got mad, shoved me into the man's arms, and told me to shut up and go already. She's been anxious and stressed for weeks, ever since they started having people come take pictures of my big brother. My mom wants him to do well and doesn't like it when I distract her.
No one else noticed the man take me away from the big Frost house.
It took him hours to drive me here, to this place in the woods. Being here makes me sick because I know something very wrong is about to happen. I know it, and so do the other children, because I can feel their growing terror and their deep sadness. They have old, hurt, numb, scary feelings that turn my stomach until I finally lift one of the couch cushions, puking.
I put the cushion back down and curl up again. One of the men in the other room starts shouting, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the familiar sound. I don't want to feel what those people are feeling. Their feelings hurt me until tears start dripping off my cheeks.
Run now,my animal says.Run.Save us.
She wants to save us, but what about the others? Their horror and dread are so much worse than mine. They've been through something terrible.
If I can't move for myself, I should at least move for them. They shouldn't be here.
Slowly, I uncurl and move off the couch, tiptoeing toward their door. When I grab their handle, it's locked. I push hard, but it won't turn as more tears start to drip off my chin.
Before I can figure out how to get this door open, I sense someone else in this room. I turn quickly, but I can't see him.
I just feel him.
His angry, dangerous feelings are so quiet, I wonder if he can even hear them for himself.
Finally, a boy steps out of nowhere. He looks like my brother's age, but I don't think he's like Everett. He has dark hair, swirling markings all over his skin, and strange purple eyes.
I've never seen purple eyes before.
The boy tips his head as he looks down at me. By habit, I lift a hand to cover my birthmark. But the boy pays no attention to it. He doesn't say anything. Even though his quiet feelings are frightening, he doesn't seem bad to me.
Maybe he's here to help, somehow.
"C—can you help us?" I whisper. "Please?"
The boy with purple eyes opens his mouth to speak, but then his head turns to the side, and he disappears again. I can sense him still close by, though. Where did he go?
That's when the door the bald man went through opens.
