Page 97 of Switching Graves

I recognize those round, unyielding eyes from somewhere, but I can’t place them.

Divina scrunches her nose in that signature scowl I’ve come to know so well. It’s so surreal, seeing this younger version of her. Poppy resembles her more than I’m sure she’d like to admit.

“Is that why you were on the ground, listening to us?”

“Dee, leave it. They’re just little boys,” my mother’s voice lulls from a few steps away. My head snaps in her direction, heart dropping into the pit of my stomach.

It’s exactly as I remember it. Soft and soothing—calming, even with the panic laced through it. I’ve missed her so much. No matter how much time passes, the agony from losing her is ever present. It’s been lying dormant for years, fooling me into thinking it may have faded or disappeared with each passing day that separates us. But one word from her mouth had it all rushing back, my chest swelling with that familiar ache that pummeled me the moment I heard what happened in that dark middle school hallway.

I needed her. For so long, I needed her and she wasn’t there.

“They heard us. They could run and tell someone and we’ll both be thoroughly fucked,” Divina snaps.

The young boy gulps. My heart breaks at the terror in his face as he holds his hands up in innocence. Whatever transpired before this, I doubt these boys pose any real threat to my mom and Divina. They look like they’re about to piss their pants.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. W-we just want to go home,” he stutters, taking a tentative step backward.

My mom speaks directly to Divina, ignoring the boy like she doesn’t want to spook him any more than they already have. Her lack of attention seems to comfort him. “What’s your plan? We can’t hold them hostage. I don’t care if they say anything.”

Divina responds by rushing toward the boys. She moves so quickly. One minute, she’s standing before me, and the next, she’s only a few feet away from the boys, her angry eyes glaring into their uncomfortable faces. With the creek directly behind them, they’ve got nowhere else to go.

“We have no idea what you’re talking about,” the young one says, and as I walk around his front to get a better look at him, I realize where I recognize him from.

The older boy finally speaks to them. “Just let us go,” he bravely bites out, eyes darting all around. “W-we don’t want anything to do with you.”

“I find that hard to believe when you were just spying on us a few minutes ago like two little pervs,” Divina spits.

“Dee, drop it. Seriously.” My mom slowly moves toward Divina and grabs her shoulder, but she fights against and races toward the boys—and me—again with a wild look in her eyes.

“Fine, you can go. If you can swim,” she bites out, her expression a picture of pure evil.

It happens so fast. Divina shoves against the older boy’s shoulders, catapulting his small frame into the rushing waters. My mom and Divina share a few hostile words while the younger boy screams so loud, birds abandon their places on the branchesabove us. My ears begin to ring as he breaks into a sprint and follows the other boy’s lifeless body down the stream.

My mom curses, mumbling something about the boy not being able to swim, then takes off after them.

The vision ends before I have a chance to see if they got to him. To know if he survived.

But with the knowledge I have, my guess is that he didn’t. And I think, for the first time in my life, I finally understand what happened to my mother to make her the way she was.

She experienced the raw, devastating effects of that boy’s death. All thanks to Divina and her psychotic control issues. What were they talking about that they didn’t want the boys to hear? God, I wish I knew.

But Divina . . . she’s pure evil.

When I come to, I’ve got tears streaming down my face. Tears of sorrow, for those young boys and the trauma they experienced at my family’s hand. Tears of grief, for those extra few moments I got to hear my mother’s voice again. And tears of relief, because I can rest assured that the demons who haunted my mom were far bigger than me.

They began with Divina.

All of it started with Divina.

Lifting my gaze, I realize I’ve somehow climbed back to my feet and hiked downstream. Five feet away from me sits the edge of the forest that breaks out onto a beach with smooth, sandy shores and deep blue ocean water beyond it. The waves beckon me closer—hypnotizing me. Using every tree on my way for stabilization, I stumble forward until there’s nothing but open air.

Then, my knees buckle again. This time, in soft and cool sand that seems to neutralize the fire coursing through my veins.

How long is this going to last? Will I be stuck out here, stranded on this beach, until my body sobers up? I have no idea how many more visions I can handle.

Will anyone bother to look for me?

Laying back, I stare up at the sky and wait. Huge, fluffy clouds pass by overhead and before I know it, I’m falling into another vision, my mind shifting back in time.

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