Unhinged (9 page)

Yet nothing happens.

I put my gloved finger on her neck and feel
for a pulse. I am finally able to breathe again when I feel a
strong heartbeat. Logan calls my name from Dejana’s bedroom
door.

“Over here by the bed,” I tell him.

Within seconds, he is on the floor beside
Dejana, cradling her head in his lap. He checks her pulse just as I
did and whispers, “Thank God,” when he finds it. Logan looks up at
me, his face full of confusion. “What happened to her?” he
asks.

How should I know? But I don’t blame him for
asking; it’s the exact same question I have been asking myself.

“She seems to be unconscious. I’m not sure
what happened. I don’t see any blood or injuries, but I can’t wake
her up. Should we take her to the hospital? I can call her parents.
I think I have her mom’s number in my phone…” I say as I pull my
phone out of my back jeans pocket, but Logan doesn’t let me
finish.

“No, Aimee,” he says in curt strong voice.
“We have to know what happened to her. And you are the only one
that can tell us.”

Somehow, I knew that’s what he was going to
say. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell him that I had thought the exact
same thing the second I found her. I'm just not sure that I can
actually do it.

“I know you feel this is the only way, but
maybe she’ll wake up soon and can tell us what happened?” I ask
hopefully, but Logan is already shaking his head.

“Enough is enough. You are the only one that
may be able to figure out what this is and how to stop it. You are
the only one that can see exactly what happened to her. Please,
Aim,” he implores, “what if the next person this happens to is
you
? I can’t let that happen; I won’t let that happen,” he
finishes, determination chiseled in every feature of his face.

“I get it, I really do. But what if she hates
me for doing it? What if she never talks to me again, knowing that
I know all of her secrets, all of her precious memories? She is my
only friend and I can’t lose her. I won’t let my curse tear us
apart.”

Logan is silent; he knows that nothing will
convince me. I have to decide for myself if the ends justify the
means. Of course, I want this madness to end, but at what cost? I
am sure there is nothing sinister in Dejana’s past, that isn’t what
worries me. What worries me is her looking at me for the rest of
our lives knowing that I know everything about her, all the good
and the bad that she has ever done. That’s a lot to put on a
relationship, even one as close as ours.

I look down at Dejana lying on the floor by
her bed, her face ashen white and her limp body no longer
functional. I wonder what happened to make her like this; wonder
what power I have to stop it. Then I remember all the faith she had
in me a few months ago after the bomb. All the times she stuck with
me, helping me find a killer amongst us, even when it had cost her
the life of a friend; she always believed I could do it. She never
lost faith in me and I am not about to let her down now.

“Okay,” I say with a shaky voice as I take
off my gloves and place them on the nightstand beside her bed.
“Let’s do this.”

My bare hands feel so naked out in the open
air, so vulnerable and I hate it. I look nervously at Logan, still
holding the unconscious Dejana in his arms. Jealousy strikes out in
the background of my mind, but I bite it back. This is not the time
and Dejana is my best friend, the one I trust more than anyone else
in the world. I need to focus.

“I’ve never touched someone who’s
unconscious, so I have no idea how it will be different, if at all.
You know what happens when I touch someone, but just in case, will
you please keep us safe?”

“Always.” He smiles at me, nodding his head
in encouragement. “I know you can do this. Just breathe.”

I inhale deeply and I’m surprised that it
does make me feel stronger. I position myself up onto my knees and
lean in close to Dejana. With shaky hands, I slowly place both my
palms onto either side of her face. Her skin is very warm to the
touch. I’m not sure what I expected after initial contact, but this
isn’t it. I don’t see anything; I’m not absorbing any of her
memories. It’s so strange to feel skin beneath my fingertips, but
have nothing happen. Maybe my curse doesn’t work on unconscious
people?

I am just about to take my hands away from
her face when I feel a pull deep within me; like an invisible rope
attached to my navel, pulling me forward. I gasp as my hands are
cemented to Dejana’s face by some unknown force. I use every bit of
strength I have in my hands to pull away, but it’s no use, they
won’t budge. Vertigo hits full force as the pull gets stronger and
stronger. I fear losing myself as I wonder where in the world I’m
being pulled to. The room starts to spin, so fast everything is a
blur as it moves around me. Heaviness fills my head as my eyes
close and darkness takes me.

Chapter
Nine

~ Stolen Moments ~

I stand alone on a beach, and the sun beating
down from above tells me it is mid-day. I hear the waves lapping
against the shore as I see shadows of birds flying around, darting
in and out of my field of vision, searching for lost creatures of
the sea to eat. The wind whips my hair back and forth, but it feels
nice and warm against my skin.

Testing the memory, I reach out, touch the
warm sand, and see my naked hands. Panicked, I look around for my
gloves, only to remember that I left them on the bedside table in
Dejana’s bedroom. Where am I? Or, I guess I should be asking
myself,
when
in time this happened since that piece of
information is more important than where. Sadly, I have no idea how
this memory is going to help me figure out what happened to Dejana,
but I don’t get a choice as to which memory I jump into; I just
have to roll with what happens until the memory ends, and I can
return to her and Logan in real time.

A squeal from behind startles me. I turn
towards the stairs that access the beach and see a younger version
of Dejana running with five other girls, all wearing bathing suits
and carrying towels and sunscreen. I am momentarily startled and
confused. I look down at myself and see my normal black ensemble,
minus the gloves. For the first time ever in experiencing the
memories I absorb, I am not the focus, but a spectator. I should be
seeing through Dejana’s eyes, running free and wild as her
twelve-year-old self, but I’m not.

Confused, I stand there taking in the scene
before me. The girls set their towels on the sand and apply their
sunscreen quickly, ready to take on the waves. They are happy,
giggling and talking to each other about whether the water is warm
enough and hoping the sharks don’t come into the shallow water. As
I take in the scene before me, sadness creeps into my heart. Dejana
had friends, a normal life, nothing to worry about besides
sunburning. Longing for a life I can never have consumes me. I rub
my hands up and down my arms, hoping to ward off the chill that has
overtaken me despite the warm weather.

Done with applying sunscreen, the girls run
off towards the ocean, ready to have fun splashing and swimming,
carefree as the birds that fly above them. Dejana stops in mid step
and turns to look straight at me.

I turn around thinking she is looking at
something off in the distance, but when I turn back, she is walking
towards me with a smile on her face. Startled, I back up a bit,
unsure of what to do. Can she
see
me? No, that would be
impossible. Wouldn’t it? My feet are planted in place. I’m so in
shock that I can’t move.

She has almost reached me, but still I can’t
seem to move. Deep inside, I know this is a memory, that nothing
can hurt me, yet I’m still afraid. I’ve always experienced memories
first hand, as if I were that person. This is the first time I have
been outside the memory simply observing. Now the person whose
memory I am experiencing is coming to talk to me. I don’t think
things can get any stranger.

I hold my breath, drowning in fear. Finally,
Dejana stops in front of me, causing the sand to kick up onto my
jeans. I don’t say anything. I can’t. But as it turns out, I don’t
need to.

“Hey, Aimee!” Dejana says cheerfully. “So
nice of you to stop by! I was hoping you could make it. Where is
your bathing suit? You know you can’t go into the water with your
jeans on silly! I probably have another one that might fit you at
the house. Do you want me to go and get it for you?”

Completely befuddled, I simply stare at her.
Speech is impossible since I’ve been stunned into silence.
Apparently, my silence equals acquisition.

“Well, okay then,” she continues. “I’ll just
run back to the house and bring you one of my bathing suits.”

“Um, okay,” I finally say. Wow, so I do have
a voice.

“Great!” she answers jovially. “Let’s go
then!” She motions with her hand for me to follow. I decide to go
with her, to follow this memory where it wants to take me, trying
to trust that something will happen to help me figure out why
Dejana is lying unconscious on her bedroom floor.

We take off towards the stairs that lead up
to her beach house when all of the sudden, a loud crack of thunder
ripples through the air. I turn to see what caused such a ruckus,
and off in the distance, some ways down the beach, menacing dark
clouds dominate the sky. Beneath it, four black tornadoes churn up
the ocean water and the wind howls so loudly it’s more like a roar.
The storm seems alive, its tornado hands swirling the salty water
beneath, causing a black hole to form in the ocean. Lightning
strikes out in alternating intervals, in different patterns, and
all different ways: up, down and sideways. It’s the strangest storm
I’ve ever seen.

“Should we go inside now?” I ask Dejana
worriedly. “That looks like one nasty storm and I’m sure you don’t
want to get stuck in it.”

I turn to look at Dejana and see that her
jovial mood is gone, replaced with complete and utter terror. Her
voice, loud as ever before, is now barely a whisper and shakes
uncontrollably as she answers me.

“That’s the dark place,” she begins. “We
don’t go into the dark place. If you go in, you don’t come back. I
don’t know where it came from, but as long as I stay over here, it
doesn’t see me. I see it moving; every day it comes closer and
closer, but for some reason it waits. I don’t know why. But until
it comes for me, I’ll swim and have fun. For now, I stay here and
I’m safe.”

Safe? Nothing about that storm seems safe.
And even more disconcerting, Dejana thinks it’s coming for her. I’m
slow to convince myself of what I have already realized I need to
do: I have to go into the dark place. I have to know what’s in
there and why it’s coming for Dejana.

Scared as hell, I turn and begin walking
towards the dark storm. I don’t hear any protests from Dejana, so I
look back and see she has disappeared; they all have. The beach is
once again deserted. I don’t know where they've all gone, but I’m
glad Dejana isn’t here to go with me.

As I walk, my feet crunch against the sand,
and I feel the exertion from trying to walk on an uneven surface. I
concentrate on that and not on what I am about to do. It’s the only
way I can keep putting one foot in front of the other. Up ahead,
the storm seems to sense that I am coming near because the
lightening and tornadoes have stopped. The black hole beneath it
still churns, but all else is quiet. If I didn’t know better, I
would think it’s preparing for my arrival.

My gait falters the minute things grow
quieter, but I force my feet forward; force myself to be brave for
Dejana. I’m about half way to the storm when I realize it’s closer
than I had first thought. Did it move to meet me half way? I stop
dead in my tracks to test the theory. Sure enough, within minutes
the storm is almost to me, like it senses I am near and wants to
grab me before I turn and run. And believe me, I
want
to
run.

I stand very still, not quite sure what to
do. I know I’m in a memory and realize I can’t drown in a sea that
doesn’t really exist, but the mind can play deadly tricks and I
can’t afford to falter. I stand on the beach, frozen by fear,
staring at the black clouds until the tornado-filled storm is right
in front of me. The roar of the black hole beneath it fills my ears
and haunts my soul. The storm has seemed to stop, aware that its
prey is within its grasp. I take a deep breath for courage and do
the only thing I can: I walk straight into the water and am
immediately pulled into the black hole.

Water swirls roughly around me as I am thrown
back and forth within its grasp. I have no idea which way is up or
down, no idea where I am going. As the seconds tick by, I am at
least able to convince my stressed out mind that I won’t drown. My
clothes aren’t wet, the salt does not sting my eyes, and I bet that
I can breathe. But my mind just won’t buy it, so I hold my breath
and hope for the best.

I am suddenly thrown sharply to the right and
land softly on what looks like grass and pine needles. I look
around me and see only trees. The air is thin and cold; I can see
my breath in front of me as I exhale. From my left, a loud thud
sound pierces the otherwise quiet forest. I lift myself up off the
ground and walk towards where I think the sound originated. I walk
up a small hill and meet pure, unadulterated evil as I reach the
crest. I place my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my scream,
but it’s no use, the sound of terror reverberates off the trees and
amplifies as it echoes distantly throughout the forest. Though the
rational side of me knows this has to be a memory, the fear I feel
is certainly real. It paralyzes me as I stand upon the crest,
witnessing the horror below.

At the bottom of the hill is a small valley
where there are no trees. In the middle of the valley, perfectly
hidden, is a very large, deep hole. The pit itself isn’t what stuns
me. It is the fifteen or so bloody, mutilated bodies of women that
lie beside it, waiting to be thrown into the pit, that makes me
want to vomit. The bodies are stacked one on top of the other in a
haphazard pile. They are in different stages of decomposition, and
of various races. I am too far away to tell how old they were when
they were murdered, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that they were
taken before their time is sufficient enough to appall me. As far
as I can tell, the only thing these women have in common is that
each one suffered some horrific act of violence, and each was
stripped of her clothing.