Page 6 of Shattered

A sense of dread washes through me as it becomes increasingly difficult to swallow, wondering where Jace is. “Jace, where are you?”

Harder to breathe.

“Here, Bohdi. I’m right here.” His voice cracks at the end. He’s no longer panicked but sad, as if he doesn’t see a way out. But where is he?

“Please hold on, Jace.” In desperation, I pull my hair and open every door, crying out for help. He’s not here.

“Jace.” I spin on the spot, not knowing what to do, but that’s when I see it.

Blood. So much blood. It seeps through underneath the front door. Slowly flooding my floor. My heart beats erratically. It’s attempting to shatter my chest. I approach the door with hesitation. My shoes sink into the blood that continues to flow from under the door, causing me to wince. Holding my breath, I extend my hand, uncertain of what I will encounter. Opening the door, I am met with the sight of a hooded figure, standing with legs slightly apart, arms and hands hanging down. ButI don’t see Jace. Only more blood. This time, it drips from his fingers. His gray hoody is no longer gray, but red.

“Where is he?” Rage and panic take over. “Where’s my fucking nephew?” I charge toward the hooded figure.

I know who it is. It’s him.

“James!” I shout, my voice echoing, as I forcefully grip him and shake him. However, a deranged laughter envelops me as he slowly raises his gaze, causing everything around me to halt.

It’s not James.

“No!” My voice trembles, shaking my head from side to side. “No!” I gasp again.

His face twists into a malicious grin. “Jace is gone, Bohdi, and he’s not coming back.”

“Brayden?”

***

As I gasp, I soar upward and my vision gradually becomes clear. My eyes wander around the room while my head sways back and forth.

“It was a dream, it was a dream,” I repeat to myself. Adjusting my legs and placing them on the edge of the bed, my slippery, slick skin sticking to the sheet beneath me. Leaning my elbows on my knees, I wipe the sweat off my face with my hands. The moment I open my bedside cabinet, I quickly find what I am searching for. Jace’s picture in a black frame. The sight of him makes me sick with grief that I have to hide his picture in my bedside cabinet, but sometimes I need him. I need to see him. I lock eyes with him.

It’s going to be OK.

Chapter five

Brayden

YUNGBLUD filters through my headphones as I shut my eyes tight and let the lyrics wash away the reality surrounding me. I heard aggressive, loud voices through the thin trailer walls around thirty minutes ago, which alerted me to prepare for the sound of shattering glass that would inevitably follow. There’s nothing that can disrupt the connection between me and my music. It transports me to a different reality, weaving through the lyrics. I can almost trick myself into believing that I’m not in this messed up place when I close my eyes and listen to music. I lean toward my old bedside drawer, opening it and searching until my hand finds the worn leather binding. I grasp it and pull it out, finding it open to the page I left a message on last week after writing. I turn the UV light on from the pen.

There’s no reply.

I skim through the recent pages, reading all the messages I’ve written to my twin brother, but he never replies. I texted him before I came, letting him know I’d be here, but he’s not, whichisn’t surprising. Sometimes, he’ll be here waiting for me. Other times, he’ll leave me alone all night in the old bed we used to share, and I won’t see him for days. And sometimes, I’ll wake up to find him curled up beside me, as he did when we were kids.

I read the last message I wrote.

Hey, Bex, I miss you. Hockey is going sick. I can’t wait to show you some new tricks I learned. Kal recorded them on his phone. You should come hang soon.

It’s been a week since I last saw him. He stumbled into my old room—his room—at 2 a.m., covered in blood and bruises. He collapsed next to me reeking of a combination of alcohol and vomit. One week since he whispered he loves me before drifting off to sleep, and one week since he left a message for me before leaving the trailer.

I had to go. I’ll be back tomorrow for when you finish school.

Although I had hockey practice after school, I skipped it. I was so excited to see Bex. I quickly returned home, carrying a bag of candy, prepared to have a casual conversation while enjoying our favorite sweets.

He never showed.

I shouldn’t be shocked when he’s a no-show, but when he does appear, it’s as if I’ve regained my other half. When he’s not here, I don’t feel fully myself. He’s my twin, and I miss him. Ireminisce about our old days, but something went astray with Bexley.

Instead of my cozy dorm room bed, I find myself lying in Bexley’s bed, which carries the scent of smoke and stale alcohol, a smell I’ve grown used to. Despite his absence, being here gives me a sense of closeness to him. I haven’t been myself lately, as if something’s wrong—a constant ache sits in my chest, and I know the only way it will go away is if I see Bexley. I had hoped for a written reply from him, but he hasn’t responded. I shut off the bedside lamp and grab the invisible ink pen with a built-in UV light. The dinosaur no longer appears when I turn it on. I blindly write on the paper and then press the light button while shining it down on the paper.

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