Because they’re gone, leaving nothing but scorched earth in their wake.
A broken sob falls from me; all energy suddenly zapped from my being as I collapse onto my front.
Because I feel nothing.
And there is nothing.
I am nothing.
TWENTY-FIVE
A DEVIOUS REVELATION
Vivian, Age 15
I’m not supposed to be here.
That thought has played on repeat in my mind since I left my house and somehow found myself in the forest of the park nearby. I don’t recall venturing this way before, being a city girl to my core, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been here at some point. That I’ve been called to this place at an earlier point in my life, and I’m missing an important piece that has me continuing to move forward, even as my mind tells me to stop.
To turn around.
To run.
Fighting my own inner battle, I walk for what feels like an eternity, a complete impossibility given that this forest is in a park surrounded by city buildings on all sides.
Coming to a fork in the path, I stop. I look both ways before glancing behind me, wondering why turning back is impossible, even while I long to.
Facing forward again, I’m drawn to the left, a frown falling into place as a glow appears, then becomes decidedly brighter the farther down the path I travel. Stopping in front of agolden orb, my features relax, and I find myself smiling at the shimmering iridescence before me.
Familiarity flows through me, an odd warmth reminiscent of nostalgia that has my smile faltering even as my hand slowly lifts, my fingertips reaching.
“Vivian Jones!”
The familiar voice startles me. My hand immediately falls to my side as I whirl around, fully expecting to find my sister standing behind me.
But there’s no one there.
“Gemma,” I stammer, my voice small and anxious, my pounding heart a deafening noise in my ears. “Is that you?”
My question is met by silence. I listen for a few more moments before I turn back to the golden orb, now slightly less brilliant after the interruption. It winks at me, silently calling me closer, so, with a final glance behind me, I once again extend my hand, reaching, reaching.
But then a hand closes on my forearm, yanking viciously. I cry out in pain, falling back in an attempt to rid myself of the painful grip, but it only holds on even tighter. Shaking my arm, I fight to free myself but end up tripping over my own feet, my arm only coming free from me, flailing to catch my balance.
I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me. Sprawled flat on my back, I stare up at the black sky, the glow from the orb distorted by a figure hidden amidst the shadows. It oozes forth, shifts, and takes shape.
Suddenly, Gemma is standing where I was, her face aglow, her hand outstretched, reaching, reaching.
The gold orb balks, shimmers, and that brightness dims even more. Sensing its distress, I attempt to sit up, coming up on my elbows, only to be shoved back, a familiar black ankle boot pressed into my chest. I grab onto the shoe, pushing with all my might. “Get off me.”
The pressure only increases.
I fight back, my hands pushing, my feet digging into the ground, desperate for some kind of leverage to extricate myself, but it’s no use. I remain helpless. Useless.
Gemma pays me no mind, her entire focus on the quickly dimming light before her. With her eyes wide, her jaw clenched, her reaching hand never quite connecting with the orb that seems to flinch away. She makes a frustrated noise, leaning forward sharply as she attempts to touch it, her frustrated sound becoming a bellow of outrage as the orb slips out of reach.
Then it vanishes, leaving us in a strange darkness illuminated by a partial moon.
Gemma curses, then puts all her weight on the foot still pressed into my chest until I can’t breathe. I flail, once again failing to budge her hold on me, my fingernails now scratching at her ankle just above the top of her boot. She drives down even harder, twisting her foot as if she’s hoping to push me right through the Earth.
