Natalie Cuddington

       I’m so traumatized and disgusted and angry and everything in between that I can’t even think straight. I need to find Zac and I need to bash his face in. I seriously can’t even think about him without wanting to kill him. For real. Dead. Make his heart stop beating, make his lungs stop filling with air, make his eyes blank and unfocused, as someone who loves him holds him, crying for him to wake up. I want everything bad to happen to him. I’m shaking with rage and my eyes are filling with tears and the fact that I’m crying is making me even madder. How can he get away with all the things that he does? 
       I throw myself out of bed and put my jeans and a hoodie on, and am about to stomp down the stairs when my phone beeps. I pick it up and see the time before the message; 5:00AM. I had only been asleep for about 20 minutes. Chance and I got back to the real world at around 4:00 after some smooth sailing dream jumping and nightmare killing. I was honestly in a good mood until I fell asleep and had that stupid nightmare that’s still making my hands shake. My eyes scroll to the text message from Chance.

       Are you still awake? he had typed.

       Am now.

       Wanna go for a walk?

       Anything as long as it’s with you.

       I put my hair back up in a ponytail to keep it out of my face and hide the night’s grease a bit better, and I decide maybe I should brush my teeth as well. Just in case some more kissing happens. Wow, I can’t get over how much better I feel just knowing that I’m going to see Chance. I also can’t get over how much I’ve enjoyed kissing him. I never in a million years thought that I would want to kiss Chance. I mean, he’s Chance. He’s nice, he’s incredibly nice, and I guess I maybe thought he was kind of cute when I first met him, but I never thought I would really be attracted to him like this. It’s like the way I felt the first time I met Zac, only with Chance, I actually know him. I know so much about him and his personality. It’s like that’s what’s making me attracted to him. It’s not just his face, it’s his story. 
       I catch myself actually smiling when I see him walk up my driveway, the sun starting to peek over the houses behind him. I step outside and lock the door behind me, and practically run to Chance, not being able to wait to get back into his arms. And just as I do, he wraps them around me and I kiss him without even thinking about it, his lips completely washing away my anger. I feel so relaxed now, so like me, like a normal, untouched me. Someone who hasn’t just literally had her worst nightmare.
       My ponytail has already loosened from Chance’s hands in my hair, and mine are running through his hair too. I can feel the grease in his, which makes me feel less self-conscious about mine, but I don’t even care. 
       “Are you ok?” he whispers into my mouth.
       “I am now.”
       “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He pulls away from me a bit and looks at me. 
       “Zac. He… I had a nightmare.”
       “Just now? When you got home?”
       I nod.
       “And no one stopped it?”
       “No. And it was the worst, Chance. It was horrible. I can’t…” My voice is breaking now, and it bugs me how much this is killing me, how weak it’s making me seem. It was just a dream. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t just a dream, it was someone I know, literally in my head, showing me a freaking replay of how he killed my brother! And now all the feelings I had when I first saw Chance, are slipping away from me. He can’t make this better for me, no one can. 
       “Hey,” Chance whispers, his hand slipping back around my face, holding my head tight. “What happened in it?”
       “It was my brother,” I choke. “And Zac. I watched him kill him!” I start to cry and my body shakes as Chance pulls me into his chest, holding me tightly. I curl my arms up in between our chests, and sob into his shirt. I haven’t cried like this about Adam in so long. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I just watched him die, or if it’s because Chance makes it easier for me to let out the things I’m afraid to feel, or if it’s because I’ve made out multiple times with the guy who killed him, but I don’t really think much about it. I just cry. And it feels good. I don’t know how long I cry for, or how long I let him hold me, but my mom finally opens the door and calls out to us.
       “Rebecca?” she calls.
       I pull away from Chance and am ambushed by the sun that’s now pouring over us, and I look over at her. She’s dressed and ready for work already; I must have been crying into Chance’s shirt for a while. 
       “I can’t go to school today, mom,” I say, that crying crack still in each word. 
       “What’s wrong?”    
       “I just… I can’t. I can’t talk to you about it.”
       “What’s going on? Who’s your friend?”
       “I’m Chance,” he says. “I’m in Becca’s English class.”
       My mom smiles a little, her arm still holding the screen door open in front of her. “Well come inside. We’ll see if we can talk about it.”
       “No, there’s no seeing, mom. I can’t talk to you about it.”
       “Do you want to talk to…” she stops, I guess because Chance is here and she doesn’t want to embarrass me. But I know she’s talking about a therapist. 
       “No. I just need a day. Just one day.” One full day here, while I’m in Rem,  specifically, to give me more time.
       “Can I just talk to you inside for a second?” she asks. 
       “Wait here, ok?” I whisper to Chance. 
       “Ok.”
       I slowly walk back up my driveway and step inside, shutting the door behind us. 
       “Do you want to come with me to my appointment? Or do you want me to make one for you?” she asks.
       I shake my head. “No, this isn’t something that can be fixed with talking.”
       “What is it? Is it about Adam?”
       “No. Yes. Sort of. Not really.”
       “I don’t understand. Rebecca, you’re worrying me. You’ve seemed so distant lately, and you’re not really acting yourself.”
       “I’ve seemed distant?” I argue. “You’ve been distant the last four years of my life, mom. And I am too acting myself. I’m acting so myself that it feels good. I didn’t realize how not myself I’ve been acting all summer and now that I’m me again, you think I’m acting different? I just need a day, mom. That’s it. It’ll be the weekend tomorrow, and I’ll be fine to go back to school on Monday. Unlike you, I’ve been dealing with this ever since he died, and I can handle it! I just break sometimes, ok?”
       “That’s why I said I could make you an appointment, too.”
       “I don’t need to talk to someone! I just need a day! Why aren’t you listening to me!?”
       She steps back a bit and I can tell that she’s hurt. She really doesn’t know what to do, especially since she hardly parented me throughout all my teenage years. Now that I’m actually talking to her, and actually have a problem in front of her, she’s panicking. I know it. 
       “Fine,” she says. “Take a day. I’ll call the school and say you’re sick. Just be careful, please. Don’t do anything spontaneous that’s brought on by your feelings.”
       “I’m not going to kill myself, mom.”
       “I never said that. It’s just that… I’m trying to… I don’t even know that boy outside. Who is he?”
       “Chance.”
       “Is he your boyfriend?”
       “No. Yes. I don’t know. He’s Chance, and I like him, and he likes me, and he’s a really good guy, ok? He understands what I’m going through.”
       “So do I.”
       “No you don’t! You don’t even come close, mom.”
       Her eyes are red and it hurts me a little to see her fighting off tears, so I step back and put my hand on the doorknob. 
       “I’ll be home before it gets dark,” I say.

       Chance is still waiting outside for me and his smile makes me feel a little better. But just a little bit. I can’t just forget about everything in two seconds from a nice guy’s smile. He did make me forget about my dream when he showed up earlier, but it’s become even clearer now that it was only temporary. I knew that it would be. Sometimes being able to have someone make you forget about the crap, though, even for just a little bit, really helps. Even if it still only helps for a little while. It sort of makes facing the crap later feel easier. Like maybe it’s worth it. Like maybe you could deal with it all along. I walk up to him and link my fingers through his.
       “Is everything ok?” he asks.
       “No. They will be, though.”
       We walk down the road and around the corner, and cut through the field that takes us to the forest. It’s darker under the canopy of the trees but the sunlight is still peeking through in different sections. We make it to the two birch trees and we stop, probably because Chance wants to give me another chance to see through to the other side. I squint my eyes at the area between the trees and see the glass looking wall almost immediately. It’s still all I see, though. There is no Rem on the other side; just the rest of the forest. 
       “It’s ok,” he says, squeezing my hand. “You’ll see it.”
       I shake my head. “When?”
       “When you’re more accepting of everything, probably.”
       “Why do I have to be accepting of it? And I am accepting.”
       He smiles a little bit. “I think you want to be.”
       “What’s the difference?”
       “There’s a difference. But it’s ok, you don’t have to be ok with all of this right away. I get it.”
       “But I am ok with it! I’m ok with it!”
       Something starts to boil inside of me and I can’t seem to keep it down. I want to tear every tree apart around us and I want to scream until my lungs explode. I can feel my face getting hot and my eyes burning with tears, but I swallow hard and fight them back. Everything is just surfacing all at once and it’s so overwhelming.
       Chance raises his eyebrows at me. “Becca, calm down. I know you’re upset, and this is frustrating you right now, but you don’t have to freak out.”
       “I’m not freaking out! I’m hardly freaking at all!” I let go of his hand and step aside a little, but he grabs my forearm and doesn’t let me get any farther from him. I try to pull out of his grasp but he’s strong and I can feel his fingers pinching my skin. “Let go of me!”
       “Becca, please, just calm down.”
       “I’m trying! Just let go of me!”
       He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, and his sudden softer hold makes me feel a bit softer, too. He steps in closer to me and gently grabs onto my other arm, running his hands down them to meet with mine. His breath is steady on my lips and as I taste it, my heart starts to beat a little slower. It’s easier for me not to shout or feel like I’m trapped inside myself. His brown eyes look deep into mine and I find myself stepping in even closer to him, so that our bodies are touching. His breath on my lips is warm and soft and I want to taste it so I stand up on my toes and kiss him. I have a feeling that he calmed me down with his mind thing, but I’m not mad at him for it. I should be, especially since he knows I didn’t like it when he did it the last time, but I don’t know what came over me just now, and I like that Chance could step in like that. Everything that’s happening with this whole Rem thing, and finding out that Adam was a part of it, and having that dream about him, and then watching Zac kill him, it was all too much. It was an overload on everything painstakingly emotional and I just couldn’t seem to keep up with it all. One little thing like not being able to see through the door to Rem just broke me into pieces. So I’m glad that Chance did whatever he had to help me through it. Even if it wasn’t technically real, and I wasn’t technically calming down on my own, I know I needed the help. The freaking out would have vented all my frustrations too, but this was a nicer way of doing it.
       My hair is out of its ponytail now, and it’s wrapping itself around my neck, almost getting tangled in our mouths while we kiss. My hands are under Chance’s shirt, running up and down his back, and we slowly walk backwards so that we’re leaning against a tree. Chance pushes himself into me more and takes his mouth away from mine, but only so that he can kiss my jaw. My neck. My collarbone. 
       “Chance,” I whisper, trying to get his attention. 
       “Mmm?” He keeps kissing my skin, trailing his lips back up my neck.
       “Chance,” I say again.
       He stops kissing me and looks at me. “Yeah?”
       “I don’t know if this is what I need right now.”
       “Sorry.” He bites his bottom lip and looks away for a second.    
       “I mean, I know it’s what I want right now…”
       His smile brightens. “What do you mean?”
       “I mean I’m kind of a mess. That nightmare that Zac gave me was unreal. Except, it was so, so, so real, and I know that’s what happened. I know that’s how he died, and I watched it all and I can’t even begin to describe how I feel about it. Except that I want to kill him. I want to kill Zac.”
       “What?”
       “He killed my brother! And then he made me watch.”
       “But you shouldn’t be allowed to kill him…”
       “Yes I should!”
       “He has a family, you know.”
       “So?” I know I don’t mean it as the word comes out of my mouth. 
       “Becca, you don’t know what you’re saying. You just need a bit of time to get over this, let it all settle.”
       “Let’s just go to Rem for a bit,” I say.
       “Ok.” 
       We link our hands and walk through the glass-like wall in between the birch trees and walk into Rem on the other side. 
       “Do you mind if I have a shower?” I ask.
       He shakes his head. “Sure. I need one too.”

       

       As we’re walking down the corridor with the glass railings, Arthur meets us coming the other way. His smile is as warm as ever, and he opens his arms as he approaches us.
       “Chance and Becca,” he says, his voice gentle. “My favourite Auras.”
       “He says that to everyone,” Chance says to me. I smile.
       “How are you handling everything so far, Becca?” Arthur asks me. “Is it ok?”
       “It’s ok,” I say. 
       “No one’s giving you any trouble, I hope.”
       “Not really. Nothing I can’t handle.”
       “Good,” he laughs. “You would tell me if something was wrong, right?”
       “Of course.”
       He gently rests a hand on my shoulder before continuing on his way.
       “Is this thing with Zac normal?” I whisper to Chance. “Does this sort of thing happen often?”
       He shrugs. “Sort of. I wouldn’t say anything unless there were more Lents involved at once. For now it’s just one stupid kid.”
       “Right.”
       We continue to his room and he lets me have the washroom first. I stand under the stream of hot water for a long time before I even pick up the soap. The pounding of the water feels good on the top of my head, and my muscles that I didn’t even realize were sore until now. I think I cry in the shower, but I’m not sure. I have such a strange feeling that I don’t even know what I would call it if someone wanted me to name it. I’m not sad, and I’m not angry. I guess I’m confused, but I’m also furious and frustrated, and I don’t know what’s going on or how I should take care of it. I know I want Zac to suffer, but what Chance said about him having a family, keeps eating away at the back of my mind. I can’t kill him. I could never kill him.
       I finally turn the water off and wrap myself in a big, fluffy towel. I let the water drip off my legs as I step onto the bathmat and brush through my hair. I see that Chance had found me some clothes, probably from that store place, and they’re neatly folded on the counter. 
       The dark jeans fit me really well and the t-shirt hugs my hips and I can’t help but look at myself in the mirror. For all the crap I’ve been through, I look pretty good. 
       I step back into Chance’s room to see him showered and changed as well. 
       “I used Dustyn’s shower,” he explains when I give him a look.
       “Ah.”
       “What do you want to do?” he asks. “You feel like killing some international nightmares?”
       “What?” I ask.    
       “There’s always someone asleep somewhere,” he says. “But usually when it’s day time from where we are, the people who are sleeping are on the other side of the world.”
       “What about people who work nights?”
       He nods and I can’t help but smile at his goofy grin. “It’s a possibility that we might see one of those dreams, yes.”
       “Can we just… hang out for a bit?” I ask. “Can you tell me about Adam?”
       He lets out a deep breath through his nose and nods. “Sure.”
       Chance leads me to the bed and we lay down on top of the covers, cuddling up to each other. I rest my head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. I hold my breath to try and stop the butterflies, but it doesn’t work.
       “What do you want to know?” he asks.
       “I dunno, anything.”
       “Ok.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he continues. “Well I met him when I first came here when I was six. He was seven, and had been here for two years already, so he thought he was really cool. I mean what seven year old wouldn’t, right?” He chuckles a little, but I just listen quietly. “He showed me around and was super excited that he got to show the world to someone. He showed me the willow tree; that was his favourite, and –” A crash outside his room makes him stop talking and we both jump, sitting up.    
       “What was that?” I ask.
       He shrugs and gets up, walking across the room to see what happened.  I wait on his bed and watch as he opens the door, but as soon as it opens into the hallway, something grabs him and he’s pulled out of view. 
       “Chance?”
       I slowly climb off the bed and tiptoe across his room, my fingers shaking and my heart pounding. A bunch of shadows cross in front of the doorway and I jump back, letting out a little squeal. I raise my hand to my chest to try and calm my heart, but it’s beating so fast I can feel it in my throat. I gulp and take a step closer to the hallway, but I stop when I hear someone scream. What’s going on? 
       “Becca!” It’s Chance! My heart practically jumps out of my mouth when I hear his voice and I run into the hall, completely blocking everything else out. He’s lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Not his own, I hope. I kneel down next to him and put a hand gently on his face.
       “What’s happening?” I ask. 
       “The Malevolents.”
       “What do you mean?” The panic in my voice is making me even more nervous.
       “It’s the Malevolents. They’re here.” He winces. “I think.”
       “What do you mean you think they’re here? They’re in Rem?”
       He nods and closes his eyes. 
       “Chance, stop it, open your eyes.” I tap his cheek a few times and he looks at me, a soft, drunken smile across his lips. This isn’t good. “Why are they here?” I ask him. “How did they get here?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes they get strong enough to break through.”
       “Well what are they doing here!?”
       “Remember the plague?”
       I almost choke. “What? No.” I stand up and put my hands on my hips, but then feel bad for stepping away from Chance and kneel down next to him again. “No,” I say again. “This isn’t happening.”
       “Becca, I think I’m dying.”
       “You’re not dying.” I feel around his chest and back for a wound and my hand comes back sticky after touching his back. I look at the blood covering my palm and bite down the fear that’s trying to make its way up inside me. “I’ll just take you to your bed.”
       He chuckles and closes his eyes again. 
       “Chance, listen to me. You’re not going to die, ok? We age slower but heal regular, so you won’t bleed to death as quickly. Right?”
       “I don’t know.”
       “Well if we don’t age any faster here, then we shouldn’t be able to die faster. Come on, let’s go back to your room.” I put my shoulder under his armpit and lift him off the ground, but my legs are already protesting. He’s a lot heavier than I am and I’m not sure if I can take him back to his bed. I look around and see no one in the hall, but when I lean over a bit and look down past the glass railing and into the entry below, I can see someone running. She stops and looks behind her for a second before turning and continuing in the same direction again. What the hell is going on? I shuffle my feet into his room and manage to close the door behind us.
       “I got it,” Chance says, pulling away from me.
       “What do you mean you got it? You just said you were dying.”
       He smirks and leans against the wall. “I was in pain and in shock. I didn’t know what was happening.”
       “Well let me see.” I step behind him and lift up his shirt to reveal a huge gash in his back, just to the right of his spine. It’s like a big hole, oozing with blood and clear jelly stuff. What is that? I touch it gently and he winces, sucking is some air through his teeth.
       “Sorry,” I say. 
       “Maybe you can stitch it up or something.”
       “What!? First of all, Chance, there’s nothing to stitch up. It’s a giant hole in your back; I would need extra skin from somewhere to do that. But it doesn’t really seem to be leaking so much now…” I look a little closer at it and swear I can almost see inside him. It’s not even gross, really, it’s more mesmerizing than anything. I try not to touch it again, but my finger slowly inches up his bare back and comes in contact with the gooey surface. He winces again and I step back.
       “Stop that!” he screeches.
       “Sorry. Maybe I can at least put disinfectant on it and bandage it up.”
       “Ok. Do that. I’m going to lie down.” He scrunches his face up as he carefully pulls his shirt over his head, and I watch as he slowly walks over to his bed. He lies down on his stomach, and I take the time to go into the washroom to find something to fix him up with.
       “What happened?” I ask, as I make my way over to him with a handful of first aid stuff.
       His head is turned sideways as it rests in his folded arms. “I don’t know. One of the Lents grabbed me and stabbed me with something.  It all happened so fast, I didn’t even see who it was.”
       “It looks like it had an arrowhead on it. Ripped everything to shit when it got pulled out after.” I say, taking the lid off a bottle of peroxide.
       “As long as it looks just as bad as it feels,” he says through a few heavy pants. He’s putting on a brave face now that he’s out of the shock, but I can tell he wants to just scream out in pain.
       I tilt the bottle of peroxide over his wound, making him finally cry out.
       “Sorry,” I say.
       “Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, holy fuck that hurts!”
       “Sorry!” I say again. The peroxide is bubbling like mad and already starting to lift the dirt and ooze out of the hole. I pour a little more on and he groans as it bubbles around his wound and slides down his back, onto his bed. I take a paper towel and wipe it up, pulling away all the pre-infection bits that the peroxide pulled out. The antiseptic cream doesn’t look like it’s going to be enough, but I take the lid off anyway, and squeeze as much out as I can. I mostly just apply it around the outside edges of the wound, afraid to stick my finger in it again. It really is a big hole.    

       “I have an idea,” I say. “It’ll probably hurt, but it’s the only thing I can think of.”
       “What?”
       “I don’t want to tell you.”
       “What!? Tell me!”
       “No, I’m just going to do it. But uh… I don’t know, maybe bite down on your pillow or something?”
       “What! What are you going to do!?”
       “Just calm down…” 
       I go back to the first aid stuff and pour rubbing alcohol all over a wad of gauze. I fold it up to the width of a lime, about the size of his back hole, and shove it inside it. He screams out and punches the bed, but quiets himself to a whimper after only about a second. I try to ignore his pain so I can finish, and I tape a flat piece of gauze over top. The wound seems pretty well packed and infection prevented now, and I step back actually smiling at my work.
       “Are you done?” he asks.
       “Yeah. I think I did a good job.” 
       “Good. It fuckin’ hurt.”
       “Well how does it feel now?”
       He sits up and stretches a little bit, moves from side to side and wiggles a bit. He shrugs. “Ok, I guess. I mean, it feels like there’s a hole in my back… it feels like there’s something stuck in the hole in my back…”
       “There is. My aunt had a big gaping wound once, it was from a surgery and it opened up, and that’s what they did it to it. They just dipped gauze in this saline stuff, and then shoved it in the hole.”
       “That sounds lovely.” 
       “It was pretty gross, actually. I can’t believe I just did that to you.”
       “Well thanks,” he says, his voice quiet and soft.    
       “My pleasure, Chance.”
       “Oh, I don’t know if I like that you took pleasure in that.”
       “Why not?”
       “Because that means you’re more bad ass than I am.”
       “I’m always more bad ass than you are. The bad ass with the stronger mind.” I can’t help but smile, and he smiles right back. His hands are on my face a second later, and we’re looking into each other’s eyes. I gently grab onto his shoulders, trying not to hurt him, and give him a small kiss. After I pull away, he grabs the back of my head and brings me back in, kissing me again, only longer and deeper. I feel more eager now, but I don’t want to get too carried away and hurt him any more than he already is. He pushes me back as we kiss, and lays me down on my back, but then he winces and pulls away.
       “Is it hurting you?” I ask.
       He smiles. “Not enough.” He kisses me again and this time it takes my breath away. I wasn’t expecting him to do that after obviously being in pain, and when his mouth meets mine again, it catches me off guard in the most wonderful way. I pull him closer to me, and he groans, I think from pain, but we don’t stop. We slow down a little, and I try not to hold him too tightly, and we just lie there, kissing, blocking everything else out. We finally stop to catch a breath, and when I look at him, I gasp.
       “What?” he asks, hovering over me.
       There’s an orangey-gold glitter surrounding his body. His skin is almost shimmering as this gold dust floats around him, giving off a soft light. 
       “You’re glowing,” I say.