Chapter 1
The first moment in my life that I remember was a day before my employment to Breezy. At first I wasn't aware of anything but myself. I was stuck somewhere in my mind, trapped in it like a cage, in the deep dark parts I was afraid of. I guess it seems weird that I'm afraid of my own mind. I assure you though, it is perfectly just. That short time I spent there was like hell on earth—or you know…hell in my brain.
I felt more than saw everything that was there. Slimy hands pulled at my arms, trying to force me toward them, toward an even more evil part of my mind. My body was pulled forward and back, left and right, never stopping, always throwing me into a fit of dizziness. Little voices whispered in my ears about death, decay, despair. The worst were the voices I recognized. At this point I still couldn't put faces or names to each of them, but the familiarity (and the emotions linked to each of them) was still there. They spoke to me in hysteric voices, calling for help from the demons in my mind. I tried to move, to get away from the slimy hands and help my friends and family, but I couldn't. I had succumbed too fully to my demons.
Then came one voice that stood out from the rest. It sounded vaguely familiar to my ears until I realized it was my own. I was calling to myself, soft but urgently, from another part of my mind.
"Kerry!" My voice was a harsh whisper. "Don't let yourself go. You're not ready to give up yet, not with so much left unfinished." This voice, I knew instantly, was a different part of my being. It was the angel to the devil which held me in its grip. I was aware then of a soft warmth, like sunlight on the very first spring day after a cold winter, deep in my chest.
"That's it!" My voice was louder now with encouragement. The warmth bubbled out of my chest and spread to the rest of my body, and the slimy hands melted under the warmth. The voices of my loved ones died away too with the hell; soon I was surrounded entirely in sunlight and the laughter of children.
"Yes Kerry. This is where you belong." And then, I came to.
The smell of waffles was what I first recognized as my eyes opened to the dim lights of an awakening city. My body recognized my surroundings right away. Even though I had no recollection of ever sitting on it before that point, the hard plastic chair felt strangely familiar, as did the ringing of a bell as a door opened and closed. Yet as I looked at the shop in front of me, it was foreign. None of it looked familiar to any extent. Not the bright green door, or the wrought iron tables, or any of the half asleep faces surrounding me. But as I laid my arm down on one of the windowsills of the shop, rubbed a notoriously clean spot and closed my eyes, my body immediately reacted to it. My speeding heart relaxed and a mind I had not even known was jumbled, calmed. Where am I? My search of the surrounding area was futile. Everything around looked new and to be honest, a little intimidating. So I closed my eyes again, letting the familiarity of everything I couldn't see wash over me. The sweet smell of honey and maple syrup, the familiar sound of hushed chatter, the soft curve of a chair's back against my own, and the taste of city air in my mouth.
I began to listen to a conversation a couple was having a table away. They were speaking about wedding plans. Table settings and the guest list was the majority of what the bride-to-be spoke about. Her groom was strangely patient and willing to hear out her plans though he didn't seem at all interested. This too felt familiar, as if I had had this conversation once…with someone I could no longer remember. Someone I cared about, that I was sure, but someone who gave me pain at the same time. Who am I? What's going on? Tears, hot and frustrated, welled in my eyes.
No! Don't cry. You have to be strong. For something…or someone? A sigh escaped my lips. How could I be strong if I didn't know who to be strong for?
Suddenly I heard the far off cry of sirens. That too felt familiar. It was probably a common enough sound in the city; but, for some reason, it gave my stomach a jolt. As the sirens got closer, there was a tighter pull to my stomach. Other sounds followed the sirens. Screeching tires, opened doors that slammed shut just seconds later. The next thing I new, as I opened my eyes once again, two cops stood in front of me, guns pulled out of their holsters and barrels pointed at my head. They spoke to me, but I didn't hear them. Instead I heard the couple who, only seconds before, had been talking about wedding plans. I looked over at them slowly.
They were standing against the brick wall of the shop, his arms thrown over her, his body angled to shield her from me. He kept saying her name, telling her to get back, and she was yelling his, her eyes filled with fear as she looked deep into mine. They were a bright green color, piercing, and rimmed with thick lashes. Her hair was in a simple braid, plaited down her back and secured with a rubber band. Her nails were bitten stubs, bleeding slightly in places, obviously not her top priority. Her fiancée on the other hand was done up nicely in expensive clothing and a hundred dollar haircut. He was obviously from money (or had made some on his own) either way he was loaded, and his soon to be wife was not. Yet as he looked at her in desperation, as if it might be the last time he would ever see her face, he had the visage of a man irrevocably in love. I don't know why I cared, but I didn't want to be feared by these two. I didn't want them to be afraid.
Slowly I raised a hand in their direction, a peace offering. "There's no need…" then came the gun shots, and a searing pain in my shoulder. As I turned, both police were screaming at me. They told me not to move, threatening to shoot again. My shoulder blazed scarlet beneath the thick grey hoody I wore. I looked again at the officers and lowered my arm. Another shot fired, narrowly missing my scull and hitting a wall behind me.
This isn't safe. I'm not …these people aren't safe. I thought to myself, scanning for an escape. I was disoriented, dizzy, and a little more than scared. I was a lion thrown into a pen fresh out of the wild. I was powerful…and desperate, and my handlers were getting a little too close. Suddenly I saw my chance, across the street in an alley way not yet touched by the morning sun. I knew instinctively that if I stayed there any longer where bullets were flying freely, and I had a chance of getting any more hurt than I already was, that dark side that I had just left behind would take over me once more, and I would have no choice but to succumb to it. Then these people would die.
Taking my chance, I threw myself at the officers, and rushed past them. Bullets flew. I felt two of them rush past me, narrowly missing first my nose then my ear. I managed to make it past them unscathed. I jumped into the street, over cars and around frightened civilians. I heard the sound of metal crunching against metal but didn't dare turn around to check if anyone was hurt. I just ran for my life, and for the lives of all the people in the vicinity. When I finally reached the shadows and felt the fingertips of darkness literally curl reassuringly around me I felt safe. I allowed myself to melt into the darkness blocking out all the noise and chaos.