CHAPTER FIVE: A PORT ANGELES HORROR STORY

I HAD LEFT FOR WORK ON SUNDAY BEFORE ANYONE ELSE IN THE HOUSE HAD AWOKEN; SPEEDING TO THE BAKERY. Bethany Michaels, manager and owner was already behind the counter. She was middle-aged, and half-Native. She had dyed the ends of her dark onyx hair a rich shade of caramel, which had been tied into a messy bun on the top of her head. She had opened the bakery when I had been a child, and offered traditional Native breads and sweets, along with the typical American staples. She greeted me with a smile as I unlocked the door before locking it behind me.

"Good morning, Beau," she called. I had turned on the fullest extent of my performance before I had turned back around to face her—smiles and pleasant small talk helped sell; I was always the most, painfully, cheerful during my shifts. That hadn't pestered me as I had originally thought it would, more than anything it gave my mind plenty to process and plan ahead.

"Good morning, Bethany. What do we have on the agenda for today?" I had eagerly taken the full eight hour shift on Sundays, working four hours after school every Tuesday and Thursday, Sunday's were typically the busiest days, and when I made the most in tips.

"Nothing too crazy, I believe. Coffee is brewing, scones, cinnamon rolls, sofkee and fry bread are all in the oven. If you want you can get everything set up, while I run some of the experiments over to the station?" Bethany's husband was one of my mother's deputies; her and I often experimented with ingredients when business was slow. If either of us came up with a perspective hit, she'd run it down by the station and get their feedback before offering it to the public. More times than not whatever I concocted was a success, and would sell out before the day was ended.

Bethany left for the station while I set up. I busied my head with ensuring that each item was placed in the counter carefully, as show worthy as an advertisement. I greeted and served customers as they came in, restocking as necessary. After the early morning rush, I went back into the kitchen and begin experimenting. For sometime I'd begin experimenting with herbs in baked goods, using intuition to what I thought'd taste best to guide me. I quickly made a shortbread dough before splitting it into two parts. In one part I added lavender, lemon zest, and chopped almonds, in the other part I'd added various measurements of cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg and powdered pumpkin. I combined the ingredients into each ball of dough, letting them chill before baking.

By the end of my shift, we had sold out of everything, and I had taken a box of the shortbread cookies I'd made home to test out on my family and friends at school the following day. The evening played out regularly, Seth had stayed for dinner before his mother, Hailey had come to pick him up. She lingered along with us in the family room for half-an-hour, there had been no animosity between her and her ex-husband and my mother like there had been with Leah. She'd remarried herself, and her and my mother had stayed friends. Everyone seemed to enjoy the cookies, I'd had to limit Seth to only three each.

When Seth left with his mother, I excused myself for the evening. My mind shut itself off, and I completed my nightly routine automatically, unthinking. Only when I was under the covers, listening to the storm did I begin to fear that I would dream of him again, hiding in the shadows in some distant place, miserable and as broken as me. I stopped my mind before it could venture into fancies of fantasy and fiction, for I knew that he could not miss me in the way my subconscious had hoped for—reminding myself that I hadn't been enough. Dark oblivion took me swift after.

I had made it to school with still fifteen minutes to spare. Parking now closer to the buildings. Jess and Angela were huddled together underneath large umbrellas and wearing thick raincoats, talking by Jess' new car, a twenty-seventeen Toyota that had been a birthday gift from her grandparents. I'd gone to the dinner and following party, but remembered very little of any part of it. They waved at me, I smiled and waved in return. Already in character, I pulled out my own umbrella and made my way to them. We began walking to one of the eastern buildings. Once inside, I presented them with what was left of the experimental cookies, each of them groaning as they smiled.

"If you keep brining us goodies, I'm not going to fit in my costume," Jess complained as she took two of each cookie. Jess and Angela had tried out for the musical with me, earning roles in the ensemble and as members of the persecuted Romani people.

"That's all part of my wicked plan," I'd managed to say jokingly, "get the rest of the cast fat so I look the best." Jess laughed as she slapped my arm.

Angela rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her cookie. "Ahh, yes, says the person who will be dressed as a deformed hunchback."

I'd laughed along with them, though the smile never toughed my lightless eyes. We talked, as always, about their weekends and what they had done. I had carefully conditioned them to this without their knowledge; it was easier to pretend to listen to them and respond when appropriate than have to come up with false truths about my life.

The first warning bell rang, and we each headed off to first classes. I was constantly in character. There was never a break. It was exhausting, mentally, physically and emotionally, but it was a necessary evil. I could not afford to slip, not once. Not after all the time that had already passed. I'd wrongfully prided myself at how well I had been able to keep my secret, thinking that it was an immense strength or act of courage that I forged on, still in excruciating agony, as though nothing had occurred at all. I had not been able to do this after I'd been attacked back in Phoenix. I'd changed, retreated inward, and did not hide the suffering from my parents. I knew that was because there was still much of my soul left that screamed out for justice, that hoped for a brighter tomorrow. But now, whatever had remained of my soul was now gone. I was hollow. I found a sick, masochistic sense of pleasure in that knowledge, knowing that now I was strong enough to be broken—alone.

The school day went on like all the rest. I joined the large crowd of us who had signed on to preform in the musical. I greeted everyone who I passed by with a smile, waving, and making smalltalk with members of the cast that I had not known well. Michelle Washington, Kyle Perth and Tony Diaz were sitting on the stage, waiting for me to join them Michelle greeted me with a warm smile, her dark eyes and dark curly hair catching the magenta stage light above.

"Quasi," she greeted.

"Esmerelda, lovely day we're having." The lightening and thunder from outside bursting as I finished speaking.

"Yeah, really nice. Perfect beach weather," Tony added sarcastically.

Tony and Kyle had earned the roles of Captain Phoebus and Frollo respectively. I knew that they, along with Michelle were fairly decent actors only because it was prudent for me to pay attention to the way they interpreted their lines and scenes so as to best respond to them in my own character appropriately. Mr. Banner called all of us in the auditorium to order, going over what scenes and dances we would be practicing today—and I was thankful that my character wasn't in any of the big dances…I wasn't sure that I could perfect the choreography in my current mental state.

This week carried on just as the others had, blending together in a swirling sea of brief flashes of coherency and nothingness. The storm continued as it had, showing no signs of stopping. I went to school, rehearsal, work on Tuesday and Thursday, cooked meals when I was at home—taking the time to make everything from scratch, prolonging the mental tasks at hand, showered, went to bed, repeat.

My life existed now as a series of "have to do's," and "permanent performance." There was no true joy, no real laughter, nothing real at all. But I carried on each day. Refusing to break character, even to myself, once. It was easier that way, livable—survivable. That's what I did, I survived in the only way that I knew how to.

Friday came, and I knew that my act would far exceed what I normally pushed it to. On multiple occasions I had organized evenings out on weekends. It was a normal, expected teenage thing to do, to go out for dinner and movies with friends, and the more normal I acted the less I had to worry about pestering concerns. This Friday would be one of those evenings. I had composed a group consisting of Jess, Luke, Angela and Ben, Michelle, Tony and Kyle for a night out in Port Angeles. From what I could sense from each of them, they were excited. It had been my pursuit to forge a persona of happy-go-lucky that had made me inadvertently popular. As such, my friends both old and new were always eager to attach themselves to me both in and out of school. Their true reasonings invisible to even themselves; buried under their own subconscious was an awareness that by staying in close contact with me, their own popularity rose. Only I could sense it.

I had been forced to be more present at rehearsal. Mr. Banner and the volunteer choreographer were working with each of us on blocking the part of the musical where my character swoops in to save Esmerelda from the pyre. Each cast member would be on or just off stage in the crowd, acting as guards, protesting Parisians and captured Romani—we would have to ensure everyone was on the same page so that the scene was as impactful as possible for the audience.

"And Beau, you'll run off stage after breaking the chains, and then run back on stage right, straight to Michelle," Mr. Banner explained.

"Run off stage?" I questioned.

"Yes. Did you have something else in mind?"

I paused, and looked up above me. Directly above the stage, across from the hidden catwalk, hung beams with rigging equipment. I forced my mind to focus on that, playing out in my head to to best use the rigging for the show.

"Well, what if I were to swing down?" I pointed upwards where Mr. Banner and the others looked. "With the right harness I could be swung from the top of the cathedral platform, circle around and land right where Michelle will be. With the right amount of fog and lighting, the wires wouldn't be all that noticeable."

Excited converse broke out among my peers. Mr. Banner held up his hand, brining silence back to the auditorium.

"Wonderful idea, Beau. But the rigging mechanics haven't been operational in a decade. And after getting all the costumes and the rights, we just don't have the budget to hire someone to come fix it."

A metaphoric lightbulb burned inside my head. I knew a mechanic. A good one.

"What if," I began, still staring up at the rigging to estimate how much work he'd have to do to get it working, "I knew someone who could fix it—for free."

Mr. Banner's eyes widened, his brows furrowing together. "Who would be willing to do that?"

"A friend," I answered now looking at him. "He restored my truck. He's the only reason that the Thing even works. I'm sure this," I pointed up, "would be nothing compared to getting something from the nineteen-fifties to start."

"Is he a student?" The edge of excitement in Mr. Banner's voice was obvious now.

"No, not here. He goes to school on the reservation."

"So when could he even come in?"

"On the weekends, and I think their school gets out an hour before ours, so he shouldn't have any problem getting here before rehearsals start. He's really good, he can fix anything, he's always been good with his hands."

The excited chatter from before began again. I ignored it, looking only at Mr. Banner, my mind working faster than I was used to it doing recently.

"My step-brother is also really good at special effects. He's always making short movies and adding the effects in with this program he has. He could help with projections, and he can build things as well. If they could work together, we could get everything we need from what's left in the budget, and they could make it better."

My mind was thinking of ways to ask both Jacob and Seth for this favor. Seth would be easy, he'd take any excuse to hang out with me and my friends, Jacob may be another story. I hadn't really spoken to him outside the few times our families had been together. The occasional text here and there. I would need something to get him to agree, a gift maybe?

Mr. Banner's voice brought my attention back to him. "I'll speak with Principal Stills about it. Once I have her okay, I will let you know so you can ask them."

"Thank you, Mr. Banner."

We went on with the current blocking, practicing lines and movements, and the choreographed fight scene still without props for an hour more. Eventually we were dismissed. The group I had complied crowded around me, confirming details.

"Movie starts at nine-thirty?" Kyle asked.

"Correct," I responded as I gathered up my things.

"Which one are we going to see again?" Michelle asked.

"Dead End," I said.

"My mom and dad went to see it last weekend. It's about demons and zombies. They said it was the scariest movie they've ever seen in their lives," Jessica explained to the group.

"And we're all meeting at the burger joint at seven," I reminded them.

"Or we could go to that sushi place?" Angela suggested.

"No!" I had nearly shouted. I couldn't go there—that had been where…no, going there was out of the question. Everyone gawked at me suspiciously.

I came up with a reason for my protest quickly. "I let my mom make dinner a few nights back. She tried this new salmon recipe. I don't think I can eat fish for another month at least." They had bought this, and we'd all, once again, agreed to meet at the burger place.

Angela and Jess walked with me to our cars, parked next to each other. The storm gave the appearance that it was already late at night, rather than five-o-clock in the afternoon. The girls held the hoods of their raincoats tightly, I did not flinch when the rain slapped across my face from the wind.

"And you guys are still cool with Seth tagging along?" I asked though I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, Seth is sweet. He's like a puppy," Jessica answered. Angela nodded.

"Thank you. I don't think my mom or Sean would like if I didn't include him."

"Do you not want him to come?" Jess asked as she unlocked her car.

I shook my head. "No, Seth is awesome. I just wanted to make sure you two were still fine with him coming so he had someone other than me to talk to." That hadn't been a lie, not fully. I did want Seth to enjoy himself, but I did not want to have the full burden of pulling him into conversation throughout the night. I felt as much brotherly affection for him as I was capable of, small as it may be, which is why I had insisted on driving him and I in the truck. I felt an odd need to look after him, and was sure he would feel somewhat awkward hanging out with a group of older teenagers that he did not know. But this would be good exposure if he were to help us with tech work on the show—at least he'd knew a few more people personally.

I waved goodbye to Angela and Jess as I entered into the truck's cab, immediately turning on the lights and windshield wipers to their highest setting. I drove less carefully than I should, having forgotten my bluetooth speaker at home. I had toyed with the idea of ripping out the expensive stereo that they had given me on that night, installing it before I had been aware of it. But I knew that I would break it, and that Seth may want to borrow my truck when he got his license and would use it. Turning it on would not slice into him as it would me.

With no music to tune out my thoughts, I compelled myself to think of what to wear. My wardrobe had been reduced, along with every other reminder of him that had been taken, so had the clothes I'd gotten during shopping trips I forced myself to forget. I would wear one of my all black outfits, with the necklace I had rediscovered, and a pair of nice boots. I thought of how to style my hair, having let it grow longer than I usually allowed. It would have reached just past my neck if it were straight, but it curled and waved about, appearing thicker rather than longer.

Mom and Sean were snuggling together on the small couch when I got home, watching some show on the Discovery Channel. Seth was eating some snack at the kitchen table.

"You ready to have nightmares for weeks," Seth called out from the kitchen. I smiled, knowing that if I were to have nightmares, they would not be caused by some silly horror movie.

"Seth," I said as I removed my raincoat. "I have seen hundreds of horror movies throughout my life. There is nothing that this movie could throw at me that would possibly scare me."

"We'll see," he said said with a smile. I excused myself as I went upstairs to shower and dress for the night. By the time that I was ready, Seth and I already needed to get going. Our parents wished us well, my mother instructing me to drive safe. I assured her that I would. Seth bounded to the truck eagerly, not minding the wind and rain.

I unlocked the cab and each of us got in. I began to drive outside of town, when a sudden rupture of sound broke through silence of the cab. I turned my head quickly to my right and saw Seth fiddling with the unused stereo.

"Do you have an AUX cord?" he asked me. I focused on the road, the bright light of the stereo illuminated the truck's interior. Several bright bolts of lightening pierced through the dark sky, so close that their cackling crescendos nearly drowned out the deafening sound of the radio. My heart seized, pounding in rhythm to the thunder outside.

"No." My voice was dead.

"No problem," he said unaware of my abrupt shift in mood. He landed on a station in the midst of a song. The beat was pounding and lyrics almost inaudible. Rap.

Seth bobbed his head along to the beat, singing along to the lyrics while swaying body along with his head. I focused on the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles nearly popping out from the skin. The blaring music was distracting, but not in the way that I had trained my mind to be. It was their stereo that was blaring in my ear. The rain grew heavier, and I was force to slow far below the speed I would have preferred to drive. I focused on the intensified lightening and thunder as I drove.

I was thankful when I saw the lights of Port Angeles—the wretched stereo would soon be off. Parking was limited, despite the storm. I found a spot a block away. I turned the ignition off, silencing the stereo. I pulled out my phone and called Jess, my voice cold.

"Hey—no the parking is terrible. Are you and Angela here yet? Okay, don't rush, the storm seems to be picking up again. Seth and I are parked by some bar I think," I said as I squinted out the windshield. I vaguely made out an establishment illuminated to life with bright neon signs. "No there are more spaces. Seth and I will wait for you and the other's here…no problem. Drive safe."

I ended the call.

Seth and I sat in silence for a moment, listening to the pouring rain.

"Soo," Seth eventually sighed, looking out of his window. "We're meeting up with some of your friends from the show?"

"Yes," I said icily, trying still to sooth my soured mood. I needed to distract him, quickly, before he could begin asking questions. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that." I forced my voice to sound warmer, friendlier. Seth looked up at me wearily.

"What about?" I could tell that he was nervous—suddenly uncomfortable. It wasn't my shift in demeanor that had worried him, but his concern that I was about to make a generic older sibling demand of not being embrassed by him. Seth longed for acceptance, I sensed that even on the reservation he didn't have many friends. And though it was not entirely gone, my ill mood shifted into the background, so that I could try to genuinely be kind without acting.

"Well," I said smiling. "I know you're really good at creating effects on your laptop, and improving on technical devices—and so I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping us out with the show?"

Seth's face was suddenly thrilled, his eyes wide and mouth opened in an unbelievable smile.

"Really?"

His excitement hurt me. And I wondered how his relationship with Leah had changed once the darkness of heartbreak had snuffed out her light. Clearly, it had left its mark on him. I smiled, nodding my head.

"Yeah, of course. The drama department here doesn't have nearly the budget that one back in Phoenix did. And…if we can't get some extra help from people who know wha they're doing, the show's gonna suck."

"Well what do you all need?"

"Everything. Sound effects, visual projections, some practical effects if you think you're up to it."

Seth was nodded his head. "Yeah, totally. This'll be awesome."

"It's part of why I wanted you to come tonight, so that you could meet some of the people in the cast. I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable or isolated."

I was struck by the sincerity in my words. I thought on that briefly. While I had ulterior motives for getting Seth, and Jacob if I could, to help out with the production—I wanted him to be included, and I wanted him to enjoy himself.

"Thanks, man," he beamed. Relieved and taken aback by my concern for him, however small it had been.

"Yeah. Also it's nice to get out of the house without our parents being around. You know, do some brotherly bonding." Again, the sincerity was real, and not an act.

The rain lessened slightly, the outdoor street now more clear. The bar that we had parked by was clearly not one of the nicer establishments in the town. I could make out burly, middle-aged men in leather vest standing outside with their drinks and cigarets. Two cars turned on the street and parked on either side of my truck. On one side Jessica and Angela exited the car, huddled under their umbrellas. On the other, Michelle, Kyle and Tony exited, Tony holding his umbrella up above Michelle.

Wonderful.

Set and I exited the cab, making out way to the sidewalk to gather in a group with the others.

"Damn, this storm is odd," Kyle said, having to nearly shout, and I realized that the rain had returned to its original force. I nodded, squinting to see. Something felt off, wrongfully off, like we were being watched. I guided Jess and Angela closer to Seth, turning my head around, peering into the waterfall of rain. I thought I saw two of the men outside the bar staring at us, their body's had changed direction.

"We should hurry to the restaurant," I said, an edge ringing in my words.

"How do we get to it from here?" Tony yelled out.

I turned my head around my shoulder, two additional patrons from the bar had joined the others, looking at us. Their heads turned as it appeared that they were shifting their glance from us to speak with each other.

Four men. There had been five the last time. I fought only to recall what little I could remember of them following me, herding me deeper into an empty street, their leader's intention all too clear. This couldn't be them, it had to be a coincidence. A horrible, terrifying coincidence.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "We'll find it. I think we make a right up at the corner," I pointed away from the bar. I knew that was the wrong direction, but I did not want us to come any closer to the four men than we already were.

"No, Jess and I just passed it. We take the first left down there," her arm and finger pointed behind me.

"Angela's right," Michelle called out, looking at her phone. She had opened up her GPS. "We take a left down there, and walk about five minutes to get to the restaurant."

I felt their eyes on me—not them. And I knew in that moment that it was them. Whatever black cursed that had been placed on me to draw all things dangerous had never left, even after he did. I ran a hand nervously through my hair, the rain growing, turning sideways, rendering my umbrella useless. I turned my body, and they were across us now. Lightening slashed through the sky, illuminating their faces. They were cold as I'd been able to remember. They saw my face in the lightening as well. Confirmation.

My mind calculated quickly, there were seven of us, and four of them. There were more people around, just inside the bar. Cars drove slowly on the quickly flooding roads. They would not attack, not here, not now, but would they wait?

"Beau," Seth's voice called out.

And then there was a stabbing pain along both sides of my head. I felt my legs give out beneath from me. My vision went white, and I gripped both sides of my head, trying to discover where I had been hit. I felt no outward wound—the agony was coming from within. And though my eyes were squeezed shut, the white haze disappeared, and I could see another place as though I were there.

A desert, the sky brilliantly painted in magentas, cyan, and violet. The sun had just set below the horizon. He was there, running. Somehow I could see it clearly, though I knew he ran far too fast for human eyes to see. He was chasing something, his face focused and intent. The pressure on my head constricted tighter, and I heard myself scream out in pain. He stumbled, actually tripping over himself in the process. His body rolled in the sand, creating a deep cratering trail as he went.

"Beau," he called out in a panic as he righted himself on all fours. His eyes were no longer focused on the thing he chased, but wide, and searching for something that he could not see.

"What's happening to him?" he asked, his voice breaking, lips trembling. And then he was running again, in the opposite direction.

My vision was clouded again by the white haze, and the pressure intensified to where I was sure, somehow, my head was being crushed. I felt my lungs screaming for air, and then darkness.

"Beau, Beau, wake up," I heard a distant voice cry out. I tried to open my eyes, but they were too heavy.

"Someone call Charley," the voice ordered, a sound of authority.

"No," I commanded in protest.

More voices calling my name. The pressure on my head was dwindling, and the weight on my eyelids began lessen. Finally I was able to open them. I saw five faces staring down at me, Seth's face was in front of me at eye level. They all shared the same frightened stare. I felt a rough, uneven surface pressing against my back. I turned my head, realizing that I had been perched against the brick wall of the bar.

"Beau, oh thank god," Seth croaked. I turned back to face them all.

"What happened?" I asked, my ears slightly ringing.

"You tell us," Tony uttered. "You started walking, and then you fell."

"You were clutching your head," Jess added, "and you screamed."

I sighed heavily, embrassed. Fuck.

"Migraine," I explained. "It just came on and it felt like someone hit me in the head with a bat."

"Let's get you up," Seth whispered as he helped me to my feet. Everything beneath my waist was soaked. "I'll drive you home, Dude."

"No, I'll be fine. Seriously. I haven't eaten today. Driving will only make it worse. I just need to eat and get some caffeine in me. I'll be fine. No need to ruin the night anymore than I already have."

"We're not worried about the evening, Beau. We're just worried about you," Michelle responded.

"I'll be fine," I said once more, slightly harsher than was was necessary. Embarrassment and rage were coursing through me. The rage coming from the fact that I had seen him, had heard his voice, as clearly as if he'd been right here in front of me. This was not allowed, it was against my every rule for myself. That was twice now in less than a week's time that my mind, exhausted and tired as it was, had conjured a vision of him.

I looked at each of the faces that stared at me, and forced a convincing smile on my face. "Seriously guys, I'll be alright. I really just need to eat something and get some coffee. The migraine will go away."

I turned before any of them could argue. Through the dense rain I could see that the four men had left, either retreating back into the bar, or off to another place. I took my umbrella from off the ground, placing it above me before I could get any more wet, and headed onward up the street.

Seth walked apprehensively beside me, his eyes constantly moving to check on me. I heard the others whisper amongst themselves, but I paid them not attention. I forced myself to think of each footstep, listening to the sound of the splashing water underneath my feet. The anger was subsiding, giving way to a fresh round of grief.

His voice, his face had been so clear, so real—too corporeal to just be some strange subconscious hallucination. I wondered if I were finally cracking, if all the months of acting and pretending as if nothing had happened were finally catching up to me. Was I going insane? Was my mind finally shattering beyond hope, just as my heart and soul had done before it?

We found the restaurant without any further incident. As we entered, I told everyone to find a table, explaining that I needed to try and dry off as best as I could. Seth stayed with me, explaining that he would stand outside the door to make sure no one came in. Fortunately, it was a one person bathroom. I assured Seth that I was fine, and would be out momentarily.

"Go mingle with everybody. Introduce yourself, and be yourself. The Seth I know if pretty awesome. I'm fine. If the waiter comes by for drink orders, get me an iced coffee and diet soda, okay?"

"Beau, are you sure you'll alright? We can go home. I don't mind. We can watch a scary movie up in our room."

"I'm fine, Seth. Lesson learned, don't forget to eat." I pretended to laugh at myself, but Seth looked on unconvinced, but did not argue.

It wasn't until the door was closed and locked behind me did I let the act fall. My right hand flew over my mouth, tears welling forth from my eyes and falling down my face. I briskly turned on the bathroom's light and overhead vent with my left hand, the noise loud enough to conceal my sobs. I slid down the door until I was sitting on the tiled floor.

I pressed my hand tighter over my mouth, my eyes scrunched tightly, my head shaking, trying to push away the feelings and the memory of the vision. It was a crippling thing, this sensation that a huge hole had been punched through my chest, obliterating my most vital organs and leaving ragged, unhealed gashes around the edges that continued to throb and bleed despite the passage of time. Rationally, I knew my lungs must still be intact, yet I gasped for air and my head spun like my efforts yielded me nothing. My heart must have been beating, too, but I couldn't hear the sound of my pulse in my ears; my hands felt blue with cold. I curled inward, hugging my ribs to hold myself together. I scrambled for my numbness, my denial, but it evaded me. I could hear the storm booming from outside despite the vent. The power flickered on and off three times before settling back on.

I counted to sixty silently before forcing myself to stand. I stripped off most of my clothes, holding them under the hand dryer. Once my shirt and pants were mostly dry I placed them over my shivering body quickly. I washed my face clean, concealing any evidence that I had been upset—my eyes fortunately not red. I exited the bathroom and made my way back through the restaurant in search of my friends. I found them at a long table, a seventh, empty chair sitting next to Seth. I was relieved to find him chatting animatedly with the others, laughing along to whatever had just been said. Their eyes each stared at me as I approached. I assured them that I was fine, and thanked Seth for ordering me the drinks.

I was tried, and sucked down two additional cups of iced coffee with my meal. I'd ordered a double cheeseburger with all the fixings and a side of sweet potato fires to go along with the lie of having had nothing to eat all day. Once the checks arrived, I was sure that I would not need anything once we got to the theater. The conversation had fortunately been light, Jess and I even joking about my earlier fainting spell.

"You just hang around Beau long enough and you'll see him do lots of funny things," she had said while taking a sip of her milkshake.

"What's he fallen over at school?" Seth inquired, his concern placated.

"Not a word to him, Jess," I warned with a smile.

Jessica ignored me. "Oh where to begin," she said with a smile.

The movie theater was easy to fine, just down from the restaurant across the street. Despite his protest, I had boughten Seth and I's tickets.

"Oh come on, big brothers are supposed to spoil their little sibling," I'd said as he glared at me.

"Ugh, no. You're supposed to make fun of me and pretend I don't exist." He spoke from his experience with Leah.

I shook my head. "Maybe that's how some older siblings are, but I'm a fun one."

"Does that mean you'll let me drive the truck back home?"

I laughed. "Sure, if you don't get scared at any part during the movie."

"You're on," he said smiling at me.

Only Seth, Tony and Kyle got themselves popcorn and candy, the girls and I still too full from dinner, had only gotten drinks. The theater was fairly full, but we did mange to find an empty row near the back.

"Ohh this is gonna be good," Seth said as he settled into his seat.

"I heard it's a total bloodbath," Kyle responded, as excited as Seth.

Michelle groaned. "Ohh joy."

Tony looked down at her, his face amused. "Aww, you scared a zombie or demon is gonna get you," he asked in a mocked baby-speaking voice. Michelle laughed and lightly slapped his arm. Tony placed his bag of popcorn in between his thighs, his right arm draping over Michelle's shoulder. She relaxed into him. I felt my stomach churn as I glared at the blank screen. In my act, I hadn't realized that they were an official thing, or that I would be forced to spend the next two hours in their presence. I focused intently on the previews.

I got nervous when the movie started. A young couple was walking along a beach, swinging hands and discussing their mutual affection with gooey falseness. I resisted the urge to cover my ears and start humming. I had not bargained for any more romance.

"I thought we picked a horror movie," I hissed to Seth.

"This is the horror movie."

"Then why isn't anyone getting eaten?" I asked desperately.

He looked at me with wide eyes that were almost alarmed. "I'm sure that part's coming, chill," he whispered.

The rest of the movie was comprised of gruesome zombie and demonic attacks and endless screaming from the handful of people left alive, the group of friends who had gone camping for spring break dwindling down quickly. The jump scares had aroused genuine fear amongst the group, even getting Seth a few times. On one occasion he had been startled so badly that his hand had jolted, sending popcorn flying into the air. I sat with my arms and legs crossed, never once flinching. I had seen this play out countless time, and so I would have thought there was nothing in film to disturb me. But I felt uneasy, and I wasn't sure why at first.

It wasn't until almost the very end, as I watched a haggard zombie shambling after the last shrieking survivor, that I realized what the problem was. The scene kept cutting between the horrified face of the heroine, and the dead, emotionless face of her pursuer, back and forth as it closed the distance.

And I realized which one resembled me the most. I froze in my seat, barely breathing as I watched. Ashamed, and even worse, my shattered heart broken into even more fragments as the movie continued. It wasn't as though I hadn't dreamed of becoming a mythical monster once—just never a grotesque, reanimated corpse possessed by a demon. I shook my head to dislodge that train of thought, feeling panicky. I couldn't afford to think about what I'd once dreamed of. Not after the strange vision from before.

It was depressing to realize that I was no longer the hero that the audience was rooting for anymore, that my story was over.

As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to remember. I knew that once Seth and I were home, I would be helpless in my worrying—late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation and mental and emotional exhaustion broke down my defenses—that it was all slipping away, that I would be forced to endure the memory of the two visions of him. His face, his anguish, his concern…I had known that he was lying when he left. The black words he spoke had all been false. He hadn't been lying about wanting me, or about loving me. That was the most painful thing of it all. I knew it had been a lie, at least part of it. And for those reasons, I understood why he had been dry sobbing in the first subconscious hallucinogenic vision, and why he had been concerned for me in the next. They were fabrication created by a broken mind, they had to be, not real visions. I was too ordinary for those…I was no Alice.

The truth had been in his declaration that I wasn't enough. I had always feared that, always known that…I just hadn't expect him to ever admit that.

He had claimed that my mind was sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice. He was wrong, just as he had been wrong on so many things. I may not allow myself to think of them, but I knew that I would always remember them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live—I had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed.

That's why I was more trapped in Forks than I ever had been before, why I'd fought with even myself in applying to colleges far away from home. It was foolish, pathetic, unhealthy, it shouldn't matter where I went or if I ever came back; no one was ever coming back here.

But if I were to go to the University of Los Angeles, Juilliard, the University of Miami, or anywhere else bright and unfamiliar, how could I be sure he was real? In a place where I could never imagine him, the conviction might fade... and that I could not live through. Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was an impossible line to walk.

I was unaware that the movie had ended until Seth nudged me.

"Dude, did you fall asleep or something?" Seth called unbelieving.

"Seriously, that didn't scare you?" Jess asked.

"I'm going to have nightmares for weeks," Angela admitted.

Michelle nodded her head. "Same, girl."

"I've told you all. I love horror movies, but they don't scare me. Like true crime documentaries…they're relaxing."

"Is there something you'd like to share with the group, Swan?" Tony asked jokingly

"Yes. It pays to have a mom for a cop," I said dryly.

Everyone chuckled.

The storm had, unsurprisingly not lightened, it rained just as hard as it had on the way over here. We all ran together for our cars, soaking our clothes in the process. I was relieved when I did not sense the any of the men's presence. Michelle, Tony and Kyle each got into Kyle's car, waving at us as they drove off.

"It was so nice getting to see you again, Seth," Angela shouted through the rain.

"Yeah you're gonna have to come out with us more often," Jess added. Seth beamed at them. Feeling momentarily proud I slapped my hand on top of Seth's shoulder.

"You'll be seeing a lot of him. Seth is going to help us out with tech."

"Seriously," Jess nearly screamed before hugging him. Through the downpour, thanks to the bar's neon signs, I could see Seth blush.

"Ugh…yeah, looking forward to it," he stammered. Jess and Angela said their goodbyes before getting into their car. I watched as they drove away. I was too tried to drive for an hour, my mind clouded with the forbidden thoughts I tried so desperately to suppress. I toss Seth the keys once the coast was clear.

"Seriously?" he asked stunned.

"You're going to go ten under the speed limit, fifteen is the roads have too much water on top of them. And we stop and switch once we hit town. And you tell no one I'm letting you do this."

Seth beamed up at me, and hugged me quickly before unlocking the cab doors. I entered on the passenger side, trying to force myself not to think of the times I had sat here when he had insisted on driving.

The engine's roar was barely audible over the sound of thunder and pouring rain. Seth turned on the stereo again, blasting the same rap music from before, and then the headlights and windshield wipers, backing us out slowly into the street.

I forced myself to focus on the road, watching Seth as he drove. He only needed a few instructions, and I wondered if he had done this before on the reservation. I kept my mind blank otherwise, waiting for the cover of my bed and pillows before I succumbed to the memories that were flooding back into my mind just as the rain continue to flood the land.

Seth and I stopped just outside Fork's boarder, switching seats. His excitement was never ending. He prided himself on how well he had done, and asked when he could do it again.

"When we're not anywhere our parents or anyone who knows them can see."

I parked along the street directly across our house. The porch light had been left on, but the lights inside were off. It was just past midnight, Mom and Sean would already be asleep. Seth and I ran through the rain, shaking our heads outside before I unlocked the door. We entered the house quietly. I closed and locked the door behind us as gently as I could. I could feel my control slipping, it was only a matter of moments.

"Hey, you want me to teach you had to play this new game I got? It's horror."

I shook my head quickly. "Not tonight," I whispered. "I'm too tried. But you play, and you can teach me tomorrow," I promised. Seth smiled and nodded. We each made our way up the stairs to our room. I excused myself to the bathroom to change into my pajamas. With shaking hands I removed my clothes and left them in the hamper. The memories were pouring back into my mind, and I was powerless to stop them. Each kiss, each touch, each declaration of love, replaying on an endless loop. I struggled to fight back the tears as I turned the faucet on, brushing my teeth. My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror. The young man I saw was familiar, painfully familiar. I had seen him once before in Phoenix, the first night I had left the hospital after my assault. And another time, after the night he left, when I had dragged myself up to the same bathroom to wash away the mud and bracket that had collected on my body as I laid in the forest.

He was miserable, the very face of agony. Broken, lost…empty. I knew that I still had to fight away the pain, that I needed to make it to my bed and cover myself so that Seth did not see. I forced myself out from the bathroom and slowly approached the room.

Seth was sprawled out on his bed, starting at the TV. He wore a plain white tank top and plaided boxer shorts, a large headset placed over his head, and controller in hand. I shut our door. He did not even seem to notice as I approached my bed. I wrapped the comforter and sheets over my body, forcing my face deep into one of the pillows.

I lay in my bed a few minutes later, resigned as the pain finally made its appearance. And yet, I did not scream, and though tears fell, I did not sob. I found that I could survive. I was alert, I felt the pain—the aching loss that radiated out from my chest, sending wracking waves of suffering through my limbs and head—but it was manageable. I could live through it. It didn't feel like the pain had weakened over time, rather that I'd grown strong enough to bear it.

Whatever it was that had happened tonight—and whether it was the zombies and demons, the adrenaline, or the hallucinations that were responsible—it had woken me up.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to expect in the morning.