“She must join the other.”
I growl in response as I observe her tiny body. She’s placidly fading away, her breathing slow and shallow. She is a complete juxtaposition to the man that we banished to the depths of ourselves. I feel him thrashing currently below us, howling and clawing at everything and nothing all at once. His heightened emotions fuel us, our thirst quenched with his tears of anger.
“She summoned us. She leaves.”
I argue back, not willing to accept this payment. There’s something too pure for us within her. Something that reminds me of a past soul. She is familiar. Her shadows are fractured, but together they create something… unusual.
“She will not survive.”
“Release her now.”
A sensation of rage flares throughout us as we disagree. There is no beginning or end to me or to them; we simply are. Our thoughts course through one another in a wave of endless possibility.
“She is pale. Her lungs do not inhale. She has moved to Him.”
I ruffle the rage throughout us again. I observe her, her body stiff, the smile slipped completely from her mouth. An emotion that I am not familiar with flutters through me… Concern… Panic? She’s done this before. She never received her chance.
“Release her.”
I command. I never plead, but I am finding myself desperate for her release.
“She does not belong. I said release.”
I am sure that they can sense my distress; there is no hiding emotion here. I try to think through past souls, ones we have thrust back into their known reality, to the ones we’ve pulled into our darkest shadows. All are often based on the life they have chosen to live, but not because of sensation. No, we have never released a soul impulsively.
“We can not take the girl from Her. Let her rest.”
“NO.”
I snarl as I pull through the shadows toward her body, encompassing her as I push her upwards. I feel my body strain as the wisps of ether cling to my abyss. I ignore the panicked sensation that fractures throughout our shadows, desperate to preserve this singular life again. Her reality flits before me, and I shove her through the mirror, shocked when I find myself tangible on the other side with her. She still does not breathe.
Chapter 38
Grace
October 8th
Istretch my arms above my head until I feel my joints crack. I hum softly at the satisfaction of the sound and roll over onto my side. The light is bright behind my eyelids, and I groan. My body feels stiff. I must have laid in the same position all night.
I let out one big yawn and sit up, blinking as my eyes adjust to the sun rising around me.Did I fall asleep outside?I rub at my eyes and look around again to see a bunch of large pine trees. Soft snow is falling from the skies, and I gasp in shock.How did I end up here?
The inability to remember how I got here festers beneath my skin, the panic overtaking my breath moment by moment. I don’t feel the cold from the snow. I glance down at my arms, but there are no goosebumps. I move my fingers, and they’re not their usual flushed color, but rather a lifeless, concrete grey that clings to my skin. I look down at the rest of my body and let out a scream. I am floating in the pines above a field of pink and white flowers.
I instantly feel a sensation of falling as I slam into the ground. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to reverberate through me. I hold my breath, waiting and waiting. But no pain stings along my skin. I pinch one eye open, glancing around.
The soft pink petals are lifting up toward the sun, and tiny crystals of ice lie on them. I sit up and glance around at the beauty of the color.
I look back down at my arms and touch them. It feels different from the way it did the other day, but I can’t put my finger on it. I pinch my skin harshly and whimper painfully. I can feel that, but why didn’t I feel the crash onto the ground?
What held me in the air? I search for wires or strings around me, but I find nothing but the snowflakes floating softly on the pine needles.
“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself.
I push myself up with ease and glance down at what I’m wearing, the outfit dawning on me. Blood rushes to my ears, and my pupils dilate, the fear and adrenaline coursing freshly through my veins once more.
The white dress is stained. There is dirt on it and splatters of blood. Whose blood? I can’t remember—is it mine? I bend over and grab one of the flowers, pulling it out of the ground. The petals immediately crumble in my fingers. The flower dying triggers me, and I hold back a sob.Milly.
My head shoots up as I look around for an opening in this forest. A part of me can’t help but think that I died when I fell into the mirror. But a smaller part of me is desperately hopeful that whatever lies beyond my life could be spent withher.
