Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles) (30 page)

“How can she reject me for something she knows nothing about?”

“Rett, I was only around for thirty minutes, and I could see the sparks flying between you two. Girls pick up on these things. She has to know. There’s no way she doesn’t.”

“Dad gave me opposing advice, which reminds me: why did you tell him I like Sophie?”

Mom’s face went red. “He told you?” I nodded. “I told him because you do, but I never imagined he’d say anything.”

“He got mad at me and said I was going to get Sophie killed if I didn’t cut out the puppy love.”

Mom’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Rett. No wonder you’re so screwed up. Your parents are confusing you with contradicting advice.”

“I’m not screwed up!”

Mom laughed. “Well maybe… just a little. But only because we are.”

“Dad warned that I was getting too emotionally involved with Sophie and needed to be more detached. I never told her how I felt because I was still trying to decide if Dad was right or not, and I didn’t want our relationship status to effect Sophie’s decision to choose Dio or not.”

“Well, it looks like your relationship affected things after all.” Seeing the truth in Mom’s comment, I sighed and she took my hand. “Aw, babe. You like her a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Of course I do. What’s not to like?” I said nonchalantly.

“Don’t downplay it, Rett. If you hide your feelings, you’re going to lose her forever. Then you’ll really feel bad.”

“Fine! Yes, I like her… a lot. Too much, even.”

“I knew it,” Mom said, joyously laughing and clasping her hands together. She acted strange — not like the depressed woman I’d known the past six months.

“Stop!” I tried not to smile.

“Benson was girl crazy, but I’ve never seen you like this,” she teased.

“Okay, fine. I’m crazy for Sophie.” I smiled at how delighted Mom was. “But where does that leave me?”

Settling down, Mom rested her head on one hand and pursed her lips in thought. Then she nodded, as if she’d made up her mind. I held my breath in anticipation of some great words of wisdom.

“You have to follow your heart.”

“What?” I threw up my hands. “That’s it? That’s your sage advice! Follow your heart? You sound like a greeting card,” I mocked.

“I’m serious, Rett. First off, I don’t think your dad should ever have reprimanded you. If I knew how he’d react, I never would’ve told him. Secondly, we both know you have killer instincts about people. If you listen to them with matters of the heart, I’m sure Dio will show you what to do.”

“But Dad made valid points. I could get let go from the case or someone could get hurt.”

“Too late.”

“What?”

“Both of those things have already happened.”

It took me a moment to realize she was right. I’d been taken off Sophie’s case as she’d denounced Dio and we’d both been hurt along the way. I felt like someone had knocked the air out of me.

“I don’t mean to add salt to the wound, but Sophie’s distrust of Dio could possibly have something to do with you,” Mom said. “You probably told her all about Dio’s infinite, unexplainable love, right?” I nodded. “Meanwhile, you were selfish and prideful and withheld your feelings. As a follower of Dio, you didn’t exemplify Dio’s selfless love. You told her one thing while simultaneously negating it.”

“So what do I do now?”

Mom’s expression softened. “Forgive your dad. He’s human and hurting and his judgment is flawed. Forgive me for breaking your trust. Forgive yourself as this was a lesson learned. And forgive Sophie for rejecting you and making a rash decision.” She then leaned towards me, like she was about to tell a secret. “If Sophie is just a silly crush, then let go. But if this isn’t — if you know in your heart of hearts that this is something more — it’s most definitely worth fighting for. Dio is truth and he is love. Truth and love are always worth fighting for.”

I stared at Mom, awed by how resolute she was. Like it was that easy.

Maybe it was.

If only it truly were.

Chapter 36

Epiphany

“A life is a horrible thing to waste,” I said aloud.

So is a death. Which is even more reason for you to go all out. Make a splash.

I sank lower into my bathwater, not amused by the play on words. “I don’t want to kill myself,” I quietly answered.

I couldn’t believe this. I was talking to myself again. Well, not exactly. To
It.
Though the subtle difference of It from my own thoughts was hardly discernable, sometimes not noticeable at all.

Pondering my insanity had been an ongoing internal struggle since coming to Brightman Academy, maybe even a sort of inside joke I had with myself, but now the joke was on me. Talking to yourself — having entire conversations with voices in your head — had to be a precursor to all-out, balls to the wall insanity. There was no way this was normal.

It’s your life. Yours to take. And taking it is the only way they’ll know who is really in control. The only way they’ll ever truly be sorry. The only way they’ll ever realize what they drove you to with their tactics to control and brainwash you into serving them and fighting their war. End this monotony, this struggle. Find rest — and escape — in death’s sweet embrace. It will be easy.

My eyes slipped to my razor sitting innocently enough within arm’s reach, a pouf of shaving foam still on its handle from recent use. Escape. It sounded like a dream… a good dream after the horrors of this past month — the nightmares, the loneliness, the hopelessness. Maybe It was right. Maybe this was the only way.

Wait! What was I thinking? I groaned, ashamed. I’d let It get to me again.

“No!” I screamed, grabbing the razor and launching it across the bathroom floor. “I won’t do it. I don’t want to die!” Many things were wrong with my life, but killing myself wasn’t a remedy. Or was it? I began to cry as my problems and worries beared down on me, their heaviness pushing me further into my bath water like a physical weight on my shoulders.

First off, Hagen hadn’t been seen since he’d almost killed Jenny, and as Brightman students didn’t know the truth about him, rumors abounded — most of them having to do with me.

Where did Hagen go? Why did he leave? What did you do to scare him off?
If I could only tell them the truth. If they could only know. But I said nothing and days turned into a month and people were still infatuated with him, unceasingly engrossed with where he could be, if he would return.

Noting his absence, many guys asked me out, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t interested. Plenty of Brightman girls went out of their way to let me know how crazy I was for not dating half the guys. “You need to get over Hagen and move on. Maybe another relationship will help you let go,” they advised, but they didn’t understand. I wasn’t grieving the loss of my psycho ex-boyfriend, but of someone who knew me inside out, who was funny and gorgeous and courageous, who liked me for me, who no one compared to.

I missed Everett. He hadn’t lied when he said he wouldn’t see me anymore. I hadn’t seen him in class, in the cafeteria, or even at Mia’s. And it made sense. He’d only been at Brightman to protect me, but this understanding didn’t lessen the severity of missing him.

I was already disappointed with myself for dating a snake like Hagen for three months without realizing who and what he truly was — a wolf in sheep’s clothing, he had cleverly fooled me — but simultaneously dealing with losing Everett and the idea of never seeing him again put me over the edge.

Magnified by the lack of Dio’s protection, a darkness like nothing I’d never experienced hovered over me, soaking me through with its rain of depression, hopelessness and despair. Then the nightmares started.

I dreamt of horrifying creatures watching me with their glowing, beady eyes while I slept. I’d often wake right as they were about to touch me with a long bony finger to find nothing there. My usual giant dream grew more abusive — the giant now regularly caught and bludgeoned me with Everett always present but never helping — and my dream about Hagen returned. Though these were all disturbing in their own right, they were nothing compared to the worst dream.

I was lost in a sea of darkness and pain. I could feel things touching me — slithering, scratching, cutting me — but I couldn’t see them. They — whatever they were — could read my thoughts. Picking my deepest fears from my mind, they ruthlessly chanted them like an unceremonious song.

You are unlovable. Everett will never forgive you. He hates you. Dio will never forgive you either. But you were never good enough for him anyway. You’ve ruined everything. You’re damaged. Nobody wants you. Dio doesn’t want you. Your own father doesn’t even want you. You disgust him. That’s why he sent you away. You can’t trust anyone. Not Dio, or Everett, or your father. You’re ugly. Hideous. Stupid. You’ll never be good enough. No one will ever — could ever — love you.

The onslaught would go on for what seemed like days until I awoke, breathless and crying. Paranoid and exhausted, I soon found myself disengaging from everyone. A total recluse, my only outings were to classes or the library. I even took my meals in my room.

It was during this dark time that I thought long and hard about Mom’s death and whether I should follow Dio. I longed to work for PORTAL and to prove Mom’s prophecy correct, yet, I was ashamed of my stubbornness. The longer I put off making things right, the more depressed I grew until, soon, I didn’t recognize myself anymore.

I was fragile, like a thin paper shell of a person. Life’s stormy gusts grew stronger, shredding my delicate shell and blowing the torn pieces in a million different directions. I was broken beyond repair, longing for the respite of Dio’s protection to once again cover me.

My only comfort was talking to Dad, and I found myself calling him more often. He was enjoying Alaska. After five months of living out of boxes, he’d finally unpacked and moved in to his new house over the past month and was acclimating to the crazy light patterns. He’d also made friends with the PORTAL agents assigned to protect him. I found this peculiar as I thought he was anti-PORTAL, but found it greatly relieving as I too was rethinking my feelings about the agency. He claimed his time with his new PORTAL friends had been therapeutic and restorative, but his stories of friendship and fun left me jealous and bitter for I was so utterly alone.

This was the worst part of my predicament: I didn’t trust anyone so I pushed everyone away, but I craved relationship yet couldn’t do anything about it because I didn’t trust anyone enough to let him or her in. It was a destructive cycle.

So, I was severely depressed and counting down the days until I could get away to Alaska to spend Winter Break with Dad when he called to share some bad news: he wouldn’t be able to spend Christmas with me.
Your own father doesn’t even want you.
His PORTAL contacts deemed it unsafe for either of us to travel.
You can’t trust anyone.
But I could see what was happening. PORTAL was working me into a corner until I agreed to help them.

I’d already spent Thanksgiving alone, because it “wasn’t safe” for Dad to travel for fear he’d reveal his hiding place, but I couldn’t believe he was abandoning me for Christmas, too.
You disgust him. That’s why he sent you away.
How could I have foreseen not serving Dio would result in Dad disowning me?
You’ll never be good enough. No one will ever — could ever — love you.

That was my breaking point. I began to see the validity of the horrible statements from my dream. I fell apart and remained in a broken state for the next week through semester finals.

I’d pushed so many people away and now, when I really needed someone, I was alone. I had no idea when I’d get to see Dad again, I’d totally ravaged any hope of a relationship with Everett, and Mia, Victory, and Maddy had probably given up on me after I’d ignored their countless attempts to contact me over the past month.

I’d fallen so far. I was beyond help. But I deserved it all — every misery, every disgrace. I was an outcast for I truly was unlovable and insufficient. A perfect Creator could never love an imperfect being like me. How could Dio find it in his heart to forgive me? And if Dio couldn’t, then how could Everett?

Dio had talked to me multiple times, given me plenty of chances — in Hagen’s truck, in the wind at the park, at the portal — and I had blown every single one. It was too late for me.

It wasn’t until after a particularly horrifying dream that I awoke and finally verbalized my regret. It was worth a try if it meant finding freedom from the heaviness I’d bared for the past few weeks.

"I believe!" I whispered into the darkness that night. "I know I’m so wretched and ruined you could never use me now, but if you’re out there, Dio, please know that I believe. That I know you’re true and real. That I see that Everett was right, and you were trying to save me from this predicament… this pain I’m in. I’m sorry for the mess I’ve made, for screwing up your plan. I don’t expect you to use me now. I know you never could. Just help me. Please."

Peace fell over me then, a similar feeling to that in the portal, erasing every worry and fear, and for that night, I slept more restfully than I had in weeks. I even had a new dream.

Everett and I stood in front of a mirror that looked like a vertical, rippling pool. We talked for some time in front of it, but I couldn’t make out our words. It ended with Everett taking my hand and tenderly kissing me before we disappeared into the mirror together.

Each night before bed, I prayed for the dream to come again as the happiness and peace it brought was my only reprieve from the torment I felt day in and day out. Though, I also feared having it again, for it only magnified the state of my depression. I would wake to find it was just a dream, and the darkness lying in wait would again take me under its crashing tidal wave, back into deep waters of no breath, no light, and no life.

I often recalled Everett’s comments about angels and demons, and it scared me to imagine what sort of beings were possibly causing me to feel this way. I could feel their presence and was glad I couldn’t see them like Everett said I was supposed to, but then, I started to hear and talk to them, too. Their dark, sinister voices spilled out of my dreams, manifesting in everyday life. Hour upon hour, I was demoralized by their grating words. This was the last straw. I was finally unhinged.