Chapter 3.1

Soon after the clock struck eleven, I decided to head home.

Though sitting next to my best friends on their balcony bench, I was beginning to feel suffocated, and watching the bloody eclipse had become the least appealing thing to do. I knew too well that I had already spent too much time in the flat and needed to get the hell out of there. Grabbing a chance to leave with the Monáes, I let them drop me home and waved them off. But I couldn't get in. At least, not yet.

I was standing in front of my whitish terraced house, gazing at it and calming myself, for a time that seemed ages. I had lived there my entire life and was sure I would live another decade or two.

I knew every detail of this building – every room, every wall, every window, and every door. Over the years, I learned which steps to avoid and which to step on to slip out and go to a slumber party next door. I didn't remember how many times I painted our room with my sister or how much time I spent on futilely trying to make our garden look better, but it was home. My home. True, it looked exactly the same like any other house on Ash Street, yet ours was somehow special. And I loved it.

Glimpsing around, I noticed that our street was empty. The streetlights were on, but the ever-present darkness was lurking round, giving me goose bumps all over my body. There was no one on the pavement, no cars were passing by, and I was the only living thing in the area. Really scared, I went in and before locking the door I checked if I was followed. Luckily, I wasn't.

My parents and younger sister were gone for the weekend and the house was mine. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. I could have had a party, but I wasn't in a mood for it, especially not after tonight's. I could have watched something, but my dark-haired Westerosi bastard wasn't available yet. I could have eaten all sweets and ice cream we had, but I wasn't that hungry. I could have stayed up late and read, but I was too tired. So instead, I chose to go to bed and let this horrible day finally end.

My room, shared with my sister, Jasmine, was on the second floor. It was a bit too small for two grown-up girls, but somehow, we managed not to kill each other. At the beginning, when there was only me, the room was just perfect. I had enough space for my big bed, loads of clothes and twice as many toys, and, most importantly, it was mine. By the time my dark-haired and dark-eyed mini-me turned three, I was forced to open the door to my very own kingdom and let that creature coexist there with me. And seventeen years later, she still did.

We didn't have much in our room as it was small indeed. One big wardrobe, two desks, an old bookcase inherited from our mum, and a bunk bed were everything that fitted in there. Last year, after much quarrelling and threatening to move out, we decided to paint the walls navy blue and buy white furniture. But we didn't expect to make the room look worse than before. I truly hated spending time inside as I felt overwhelmed by the surrounding darkness. And darkness was the last thing I needed when recovering after that blasted New Year's Eve.

Half an hour later, having finally got rid of my clothes and make-up, I was lying in bed and staring at the dark floor. Though I had eighteen months to think everything over, I wasn't prepared at all. I was completely unguarded the moment they came in and announced the whole world they were happy together. Like there was nothing that might have got in their way and destroy it. Huh, been there. With the same guy.

With the same guy I was ready to spend the rest of my life.

With the same guy I wanted to start a family with.

With the same guy I thought I loved forever.

"Stop it. Just stop it," I whispered to myself, feeling devastated inside. It was too much. I didn't want another sleepless night full of regrets, tears and what-ifs. I was over it. I was better than this. But why, for the second time tonight, did I feel the overwhelming feeling of emptiness mixed with grief and longing? I had no idea.

###

When I opened my eyes, I sensed there was something wrong.

Studying the darkness around me, I noticed the room looked exactly like before. I saw the outline of our furniture and the luminous stars on the ceiling, but I couldn't hear the clock ticking in the hall. Half asleep half awake, I sat on the bed, trying to make out the sounds around. After a while, I focused enough to catch the soft ticking and I lay back, finally feeling calm. But then I opened my eyes.

Oh, God, I forgot to lock the door, I thought and immediately jumped out of the bed. Rushing down the stairs, I didn't even bother to turn the lights on. I knew where I was going and was aware of every piece of furniture I might have encountered downstairs. Living in the same place for many years and not changing the rooms' arrangement had their pluses, didn't they?

Breathing heavily, I reached the front door and pressed the handle. "Please, please, be locked," I whispered. "Please." And when I pulled it, nothing happened.

I sighed. Never in my life had I been more grateful to find the front door locked than now. Leaning my forehead against the wood, I tried to steady my speeding heart and gather my thoughts. God, I hated wake ups like that. I never knew what was going on and that's why I was always panicking. Just like now.

"Okay, time to go back to bed," I said aloud. I didn't know what the time was, yet I was pretty sure that it was something between one or two o'clock. Thankfully, it was already Saturday, so I had a chance to sleep longer in the morning.

Having checked the lock for the second time, I headed towards the stairs. I felt that the level of adrenaline in my body started fading away and tiredness was again taking control over me. I had to climb up the stairs to the second floor and the very thought was making me tired enough to stay downstairs and just lie on the living room sofa. It was so tempting that I stopped and eyed the sofa.

Suddenly, I spotted a flash from the corner of my eye. Turning my head towards the kitchen window, I saw a bright glow of light coming from the outside. The only things that were in our garden was a tall ash tree and a summer house, but I didn't remember turning its lights on. So what was that?, I thought and frowned. Or who was that?

Curious enough, I decided to have a look. I didn't want to either waste energy or let someone roam around our garden. The last thing I wanted this weekend was to be in trouble. Peeping out the window was the safest and quietest way to check our property for any uninvited guests or possible electrical problems.

Though it was late July and I was home, I felt cold, so I grabbed a nearby blanket and draped it over my shoulders. Moving slowly through the dark living room, I was watching my step so as not to bump into our furniture and make unnecessary noises. All along, I was studying the glow outside, but it didn't seem to fade.

Bloody hell. Now, I was sure there was someone in our garden.

Really nervous, I reached the back door and looked out the window. To my surprise, the garden was empty yet bright. No burglars. No vandals. No nothing. There was just the ash tree and the summer house. Well, I was subconsciously expecting to see someone there, but felt relieved to find no one. If I had to face a burglar, I would have chickened out. I wasn't a good fighter after all.

Still, I didn't know where the light was coming from. I scanned the area and noticed that the brightest point was behind the ash tree. Strange. Why would my mum put a solar lamp there? Wasn't it supposed to be in plain sight to light the garden up?

Having opened the back door, I stepped out without a second thought. I had to see for myself what was hiding behind that tree.

Well, that lamp must be enormous, I thought, getting closer.

It was shedding light all around the ash tree, which had been in our garden for over forty years, yet I didn't see the lamp itself. When I finally got to the summer house, I froze with astonishment.

Floating in the air three feet above the ground, a bright ball of yellowy light was pulsating steadily like a beating heart. I didn't notice any ropes hanging from the tree branches or any contraptions standing on the grass and making it float. It was just the light.

Blinking with disbelief, I said to myself, "This isn't happening. This is a dream. I am just dreaming."

But it did seem real.

I knew that I should have taken my eyes off it and looked around, but I couldn't. The only thing I cared for was staring at the ball and getting closer. I felt like I wasn't controlling my body anymore. Like some invisible force was moving my legs and arms and pushing me towards the light.

Reaching out my hand, I took another step towards the ash tree. And another. And another. In a blink of an eye, I was standing in front of it and touching softly the ball of light.

At first, it felt warm. My fingers were moving in it like in water, letting the light flow smoothly between them. It was amazing how every particle was glittering and turning around as if some undetectable wind was blowing inside the light. I rubbed the particles between my thumb and index finger, but I didn't feel a thing. It was almost like they were so tiny and so delicate that were gone before I even touched them.

Awestruck, I soon noticed that the glittery particles started to slowly settle on my skin and tickle me. I moved my hand away.

"What the hell–" I gasped and took a step back, wanting to get away from the light. But it followed me.

Trying to wipe the particles was useless; the more I tried, the faster they stuck to my skin. At some point, I lost my blanket, but I didn't care. I wanted to get rid of the glittery shit.

To my horror, I realised that my whole body was now covered with the particles. "Get off me!" I shouted, feeling really scared. "Bloody hell. Off with you!"

I tried to spin around, shake them off and even scratch my skin, but nothing worked. Jumping and moving like a lunatic near the ash tree, I lost my balance and lurched back, falling directly into the ball of light.

I screamed.