Page 87 of Shadows in Bloom

Just a nightmare.

A horrible, sickening burning smell fills my nostrils, bringing hot tears to my eyes and throat. Quickly followed by a finger of darkness creeping up my cheek, curling around my ear with a lover’s caress.

My throat clenches around a whimper, just as a hot foul breath fans over my ear, trailed by a distant familiar giggle.

While the more rational part of me acknowledges that this is all in my head, that I’m just hallucinating, dreaming in a sense—sleep paralysis, my mind supplies; I’ve had this before, often in the weeks that followed the fire that ravaged my life—and the tremor that vibrates my body is no more real than the familiar breathy cackle in my ear and the shadows holding me down, slowly suffocating me…

The reactive, primal part of my brain isn’t so easily swayed.

The darkness pulses, threads of glistening light spider-webbing through.

“Shh, pretty girl,” the silken female voice as familiar to me as my own whispers, drawing up another choked cry from me…and more amused laughter from her.

And for a moment, my mind flashes, and it’s no longer darkness consuming me…

But the fire one more.

A howling roar chased by a beckoning whisper, one I remember as clear as if the horrible night just happened yesterday.

“You can still save him. Come.”

No! I internally shout, mentally throwing a steel door down between that night and me.

That tinkling, misleadingly innocent laugh fills my ear again just as a shadowy finger pushes my hair off my face. The rippling darkness converges on me once more, snuffing out the phantom flames, taking the echoing ghost of words with them.

“Oh, my sweet Ophelia,” the voice chides softly. “Did you really think I’d be content to just watch from a distance? Share space that is rightfully mine?” She tsks. “I’ve been watching, waiting for this moment. Waiting for both of you to be ready.”

No…

Nononono.

I try with all my might to scream. My chest tightening, aching with the effort. My teeth rattling.

It’s not real, I tell myself. Relax, and you’ll wake up. You will. Just like every other time before this. The more you panic, the longer it will take to claw your way out.

This. Isn’t. Real.

Something boiling hot and sickeningly slippery brushes my lips with the faintest amount of pressure. “Shh, pretty girl. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It doesn’t have to hurt.” A tongue flicks at my lips…forked. Like a serpent’s. “You’re ready now. I know you are. I can taste it. You’ve been ready.” Her voice lowers into an inhuman hiss. “And ssssooon, she will be too…” Pressure descends on my chest. “She’s aching for it…”

Again, from within my body, I’m whipping my head side to side, throwing myself at the prison bars that are my frozen, unmoving flesh.

“I know what you crave mossssst, Ophelia. What you both ache for. I can give it to you, you know. It’ssss not wrong. Just ssssay the word, and she’sssss all yourssss.”

Nononono. Don’t say a thing. Ignore her. It’s a trick. A lie.

I try to close my eyes, but it’s no use. My eyes burn hot with tears I can’t even be sure are really there.

Around me, the seams of light expand, brightening with an overwhelming glare I can’t hide from. A deafening high-pitched whine suddenly pierces my eardrums, pressure compressing my skull, and from within, I jolt. My body jerking, thrashing against its flesh and bone prison. Please, I beg silently. Please let me go, let me wake up. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

I don’t even know who I’m apologizing to anymore.

God. My dad. My mom.

Winifred…

For failing to protect her, despite the fact she turned her back on me when I needed her most, not only shattering my heart, but flushing ten years of friendship down the drain.

Despite the fact she’s just as equally to blame for what happened—that night…what’s become of me…what’s happening now…

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