Page 106 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

“I just wanted you to know, Lou,” I say softly at one point, looking over at her. She lies still, like an Egyptian mummy, not moving.

Hopefully, it wasn’t too much truth for one night.

Sighing inwardly, I stare at the sky again. Megrez, Phecda, Merak, and Dubhe, I complete the constellation of the Big Dipper and search for Spica, the brightest star of Virgo, which can be found by following the handle outward in an arc.

But even as my gaze wanders down the line, the points of light blur as if the firmament was not clear. A red veil wafts through the air like a flag that has broken loose from a pole and is now floating slowly across the sky. The edges flutter and shimmer, and suddenly, the whole night is filled with this poppy-red light.

For a split second, I have déjà vu. The glow reminds me of the moment I was standing in the parking lot with Lou, staring at her bare shoulder. That touch of distrust in her that was wiped away by the opening of the sky and the red evening sun.

I sit up and look over at her. Her eyes are wide like those of an astonished child as she looks up spellbound.

“Northern lights,” I explain, rising slowly enough not to snap Lou out of the moment.

With my head thrown back, I take a few steps toward the lake while the lights flow together in the sky. The red flag becomes a surging sea. Shreds of light fly away and atomize in the dark like sparks.

A cold shiver runs down my spine. Is it destiny that Lou and I are always accompanied by light phenomena? Is it fate that Lou, of all people, was supposed to buy lanterns—bringer of light—before I kidnapped her?

I allow myself to be distracted and look over at her, but she hasn’t moved an inch.

When I look up again, the sky is filled with a thousand and one colors, a web of lights in pale pink, pastel green, dark purple, and red. Wild pathways race from one end of the firmamental arc to the other, dancing with the wind and night, following a rhythm that I understand as little as I do myself.

At some point, the colored lights tumble like colorful Mikado sticks, the lines of light fade, until eventually, there is only a clear, light green.

I look at Lou again. She still hasn’t said anything about the northern lights or my disclosure. I think today was simply too much for her.

I quietly return to camp, grab the blanket, and sit down on the bank. Lou’s voice echoes in my head.

I don’t think you’re a bad person.

I gaze thoughtfully across the lake, which is now reflecting the light of the starry sky again and reach for a few smooth pebbles.

Who are you, Brendan?

In any case, I’m no longer the same person who drugged Lou cold-bloodedly in June. So, if I’m not that Brendan anymore, then I have to let Lou go. My stomach turns into a hard rock and I feel the latch trying to lock something deep inside me.

I close my eyes and try to get a glimpse of it—but all I can find is the dark room where I met the boy during my last flashes.

This time, I’m standing in front of it.

I am you, I whisper through an invisible door into the darkness. Even if you don’t show yourself, I am you.

Silence. Without a flash, the place appears deserted. Maybe it only exists when I drift off. I’m mentally trying to open the door when the echo of a voice zips through my mind.

Grief. Too heavy for you. You’ll break.

That was before, I reply calmly. Today, it’s going to be fine.

I need to get through to the boy behind the door. I feel like he’s the key to all my fears. However, the more I try to relax and release the latch, the more that spot in me tightens.

After a while, I give up and toss the pebbles back into the lake. Maybe Dr. Watts was right and there is more to my seizures than flashbacks.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Never in my life have I felt as vulnerable as I do these days, never before has anyone been as close to me as Lou. The fear and joy I have felt when she has approached me on her own accord floats close to the surface. She makes me laugh—and scares me like a child who reaches out for closeness but is afraid of rejection.

Now, even I have no sense of time anymore. The days consist of hours of power marches, during which I carry Lou on my back and occasionally put Grey in my backpack to move faster.

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