Synergy
Jamie Magee
Published By Jamie Magee
Copyright 2011 Jamie Magee
Synergy
By
Jamie Magee
“There is no chance, no destiny, no fate that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.” Ella Wilcox
For every soul this daydream was meant to find…
Chapter One
Fear. Fear of the end of existence consumes me, and I don’t know how I know, but I know it’s my fault. The ash is thick, so thick that I can’t see more than a few feet in front of me. The screams of the women and children shred into my soul. I’m running, but I can’t breathe; the air is toxic. I keep telling myself only a few more feet and I’ll be safe, I’ll beg for forgiveness and this will be over, we’ll all be saved -- but I stumble on the hollow rocks that are falling from the sky. A woman reaches to help me up. I can’t understand her, but I see the pleading in her eyes; it’s as if she knows I can stop this. I rise to my feet, grab her arm, and run again. Just as I reach the door I wanted to find, I feel a powerful hand on my shoulder stopping me. Darkness comes. Death comes. All is lost.
That’s when I wake coughing, drenched in sweat – on the verge of crying. I keep thinking that if I can reach the door in my dream that maybe I can solve this nightmare. I don’t know if it’s a warning, if this has happened, or if it’s just symbolic to what’s going on in my life. I know one thing, though: I feel Silas there. The darkest part of me tells me that he’s the death that’s calling, that behind that door is Draven, and that I’m never in time to save him. With that thought, the tears that I’m too stubborn to let fall begin to glass over my eyes, my heart races, and dread comes over every inch of my trembling body.
Two weeks ago, I turned eighteen. It was the day that followed the night that I fought Bianca in The Realm and helped Draven through his test. Silas had warned me that the light that I was -- or the light that was in me -- would become too bright to be resisted, that the fate that I’d dreaded would finally be here. The only thing that changed on my birthday was the birth of the nightmare that I have each and every time I dare to close my eyes; beyond that, it’s been quiet...almost too quiet.
Draven has spent every day, all day at the school. I guess you could call it an arts center by now. He and the others were writing, playing for hours on end. We’re rarely alone, and when we are, it’s tense. We ignore the elephant in the room. We ignore that though he’d passed his test and stayed in this world that now he was officially an Escort, that his instinct was telling him to pull light to him, to create darkness. He hadn’t given in to that call, but I swear at times I could see the thirst in his eyes.
I would try to hold him, talk to him about our past in this life. I still can’t remember most of it, but he can, and I knew if he thought of those happy moments that his emotions would be in balance and the anger would stay at bay. That thought process would work for a while, a few hours at least, but then he’d slip inside himself and the grief for what he thought would never happen again -- our happiness -- would take over. At that point, he always left my side as quickly as he could, making it clear that I was a temptation that he was fighting, that this unseeable war of light and darkness had placed a permanent divide between us.
Those weren’t the only times he blocked me out. He never wanted me near him when he was writing aggressive songs that pulled those dark emotions out of him. I didn’t want to make anything harder on him, but not writing with him, knowing he was writing with Winston and Grayson instead, always left me bitter.
I felt like I was his part-time girlfriend, allowed to see him calm, almost happy, but not at any other time.
I tried to keep myself busy with school, spending most of my time at the library prepping for finals, which was all I had left to do for the semester. Madison was always with me, but she wasn’t studying for school; she was studying something much more interesting, darker. She’d pulled books on every folklore or myth that had ever been written. She had notebooks full of symbols. She was trying to find something that could protect us, some kind of peaceful barrier we could use. I helped when I became bored with school.
I hoped within the pages of all the lore that perhaps I would learn of herbs or something that I could wear or do that would make Draven feel more at ease around me, but it’s hard to mask who you are - and no one should have to around the one they love.
Grayson had told me that Draven now saw things differently. Saw me differently. That when I was happy, my aura shifted, became brighter, and that shade was what was so inviting to Escorts. Knowing that, I found a way to hold those emotions in around all of them. That’s harder than it sounds because the only time I’m really happy is when Draven’s with me. When I know he’s safe.
I hadn’t seen Silas, but I could feel him when I left my home. From time to time, I’d see a butterfly dance by me and I would always think of him. I wanted to talk to him, but I knew that it would just be the same argument. He would promise me that he’d end Draven’s life the moment he had an excuse. I just didn’t want to hear that.
I hadn’t given up on leaving for Chara. I would even see my way there at least once a day, standing on the hill and watching the house that I knew belonged to Willow and Landen. I’d yet to find them at home, though; I assumed they were in that dark place called Esterious, but I couldn’t bring myself to see my way there, to see that dark prince. His image haunted me.
When Madison was in deep thought, her hands were always sketching, and that prince’s image would come to life with little effort. When she realized what she was doing, she’d rip it up. I’d look away and block the thoughts I had about him, the moment I’d seen him in that dark world. I was afraid that if she left for Chara with me that she’d see him. I didn’t think she was ready for that, but at the same time I didn’t think I could leave without her. I was torn on what would be the right thing to do when that moment finally came.
When Madison wasn’t with me, she was with Britain. Though they weren’t officially a couple, I could see how he made her happy; it was a shallow happiness, though, because according to her, she was on a spiritual journey, one that had no room for a boyfriend.
I assumed that thought process came from the books she was reading, the ones that spoke of illumination, finding your truth. Over the last few days, we’d debated the idea that life was nothing but a dream created by our thoughts and intent, that everything before us was nothing but a distraction to what life, existence really was.
The debate was that she’d pretty much committed to that belief, that she was seeking answers on a deeper level. My argument was that life was too real to be a dream. That even if she were right, this theory of hers, we were lucid in this dream. I did agree that most of the world was not, but the shadows, the darkness that we’d helped all of our lives, led me to believe that dream or not, we had a purpose, one that would bring change to all of existence, one that would correct the wrong that was once done.
I feared that her newfound spiritual path had allowed her not to fear Britain, as she should; she seemed to accept what he was without question. Madison told me that she not only had to accept him, but also the shadows if she were to raise above dualities, the idea that one thing is right or wrong. Madison thought that we were all right and all wrong, that we only saw something as dark if it wasn’t as we believed. Once again, I both agreed and disagreed. I was happy that the anger she had for the shadows we were forced into helping was gone, that she now helped with compassion and patience - but at the same time, I couldn’t rise above my hatred for Bianca, or others like her.
When Madison spoke harshly about her or when we went to The Realm to hunt her, I would tease her about her new moral standing with dualities, and she
’d counter that she was new at this and that some hate takes time to die. Basically, she hated her as much as I did and sought revenge as if it were her heart, her boyfriend, which was tempted by Bianca. I assumed it was her sixth sense that fueled this, the fact that she could not only see, but also feel my emotions as if they were hers.
I was afraid that Austin would come back and either Draven wouldn’t tell me or he’d tell him that we weren’t ready, so I made it a point to see Wesley every day. We’d become friends - jogging buddies, at least. Every morning we ran two miles around the town of Salem. The workout helped me release all those built up emotions and some of the stress.
I reached for my phone to see that it was now 5:55 AM. Those numbers haunted me, and I didn’t know why. I felt like they were a sign. I even had Madison look them up for me, and what she found was both reassuring and frightening. Those numbers stood for change; they were a message from our spirit guides (if you believe in such things) that a life-changing event or events were near.
I threw back my covers and sat up as I grudgingly rubbed my hands across my face. The gentle sound of my father’s guitar elevated as if to say hello. I smiled slightly.
“Bad dreams, Dad.” I nodded at my phone. “5:55 again...are you trying to say something? Is it almost time to leave?”
The sound of the guitar didn’t change. I sighed as I stood and half-heartedly pulled my covers over my bed before walking down the steps to my old room. Lately, my father had kept his distance; there wasn’t room for him in my dreams with the nightmares, and he rarely appeared in my waking hours. I almost felt like he was preparing me for a goodbye by not letting me become dependent on him, on his direction.
When I reached the bottom stair, I found Madison’s bed empty, but Monroe was in hers, and she wasn’t sleeping soundly; she was drenched in sweat, and she was thrashing her head from side to side as if she were witnessing something horrible. I ran to her side, grabbed her shoulders, and shook her awake. She shot up, letting out a deep gasp of breath. Her dark eyes were wide as she tried to gauge where she was.
“Look at me! Look at me!” I said loudly as I pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. “Just a dream...just a dream...you’re fine.”
She shook her head from side to side, telling me I was wrong. I sat down next to her and tried to hide the concern in my eyes.
“Did you dream of ash? Screaming?”
She looked down. “Father,” she whispered.
I tried to remain calm, but my eyes grew wide. Monroe had never talked about her father. None of us knew who or what he was, or even where, but we had our suspicions that he was in The Realm somewhere. Madison even thought he was controlling it somehow. Grayson and Winston didn’t offer much insight on the matter either...well, at least I think they didn’t; for all I know, they could have told Draven since they were all best friends now.
“What happened?” I asked gently.
“He wants me to come.” She quivered.
“Come where, Monroe?”
She looked away, avoiding my eyes.
“Listen, you aren’t going anywhere you don’t want to go, you hear me? I’ll protect you – I swear.”
She swallowed hard. “He’ll hurt you…he’s sending more...because those that are here refuse to take your light.”
“Those that are here?” I asked hoarsely. “You mean Draven? Your brothers?”
“And Britain,” she said tearfully.
“No one is going to hurt me. I promise.”
Tears streamed down her face as she moved her head from side to side.
“Monroe, listen. I trust your insight. I believe you, and if you tell me that we need to go, right now – right here – I’ll go to Chara and knock on every door and find someone to come for us. Is that what you want me to do?”
She grimaced. “No. They’re coming.”
“Who’s coming, Monroe? Willow and Landen, more Escorts - or both?”
“Everyone,” she said as she buried her face in her hands.
As terrifying as this moment was, I felt my heart flutter with the promise that meeting Willow and Landen would finally be fulfilled.
“Then we’ll be fine. Listen, you’re the boss. You say go. We go. You say wait. We wait. I won’t let your father or anyone else hurt you. Do you understand me?”
She didn’t answer me. I reached my arm around her and rocked her from side to side. A moment later, Madison came out of the bathroom and looked at me like I was insane.
“What happened?” she asked, kneeling in front of Monroe.
“Did you not notice she was sweating, tossing, and turning when you got in the shower?”
“No, she was sleeping safe and sound,” Madison said, sure of herself.
I was relieved that whatever dream she had or torture she went through didn’t last that long, but at the same time I wasn’t as confident as my words were. Something told me that it took a lot to cause fear in Monroe, and the amount of fear I saw in her eyes would bring a chill to the bravest soul. Knowing Monroe, we still had some time before this happened, maybe enough time to stop it.
I decided then to find a way to talk to Silas that day. It was easy for me to see that he and Monroe had some kind of bond; he’d promised to protect her, and Monroe had pretty much told me with the color of purple that she trusted and loved him.
“Did she dream about ash, too?” Madison asked.
“No, Daddy Dearest.”
“Fantastic,” Madison mumbled. “Come on, girly, let’s get you some water, breakfast.”
Monroe stood and went with Madison down the steps. Though Monroe never spoke to Madison -- or anyone else, for that matter -- it was easy to see that Monroe liked Madison, especially Madison’s sarcasm. Madison made it a goal to make her smile at least once a day.
I gathered my running clothes from the closet, then locked myself in the bathroom. I braced myself on the counter as I stared into my dark eyes. I told myself to have no fear, to not open that door for evil to walk through. I was safe. I was strong. No one was going to hurt me, or the ones I loved.
Downstairs, I found Kara making pancakes for breakfast. Monroe was at the table; she looked calmer, but still terrified.
“Where’s Madison?” I asked.
“Breakfast date,” Kara said, looking over me. “How did you sleep?”
“Better than Monroe, apparently,” I said as I grabbed my bag and keys.
“That’s not saying much,” Kara mumbled. “You want to eat first?”
“No. I don’t want to run on a full stomach.”
Oddly, she didn’t argue with me.
I put my hand on Monroe’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in just a little bit.”
“We won’t be here,” Kara said. “She has testing today at the school, and remember, I’m staying in the city this weekend. The kitchen is stocked, but I’d really rather you guys stay at Nana’s.”
“Too crowded over there. We’ll be fine here,” I said, squeezing Monroe’s shoulder. “Call me when you’re done, and we’ll plan something fun. We have the house all to ourselves this weekend,” I said to Monroe.
She reached up for my hand, and with her touch I saw crows - hundreds of them - circling in the air. I felt danger, my stomach tightened, and escape was all I wanted. When Monroe’s hand fell from mine, the images left, along with the fear.
“OK,” I said as I let out a gasp. “Run from birds. Got it.” I said, trying to sound confident.
Her eyes grew sad as she looked down. I knew she didn’t trust me to do that, either that or she didn’t think it was possible.
“See you in a bit,” I murmured. “Have fun with your friends this weekend,” I said to Kara.
I was really glad she was staying at the apartment in New York with our mom this weekend. I wasn’t sure if Mom was going to be there or not, but Kara’s friends from college were in town, and I wanted Kara to have a break from worrying about me. She’d been on edge for weeks; it seemed like she was always preparing to tel
l me goodbye for good. Mom had reassured her that no matter where I went, or for how long, that I could see my way to them, that I’d never really be gone, but that offered little comfort to my big sister.
The gene or whatever light Mom was had skipped Kara, or least manifested in other ways. I told Kara that she could see; she just saw worlds that no one else could when she created her stories. I knew if Kara had one wish, it would be that my burden was hers, and that made me sad. I didn’t want anyone to worry about me because all that did was make me worry more. I needed people to be confident around me, to tell me that I could conquer whatever was in my path. I didn’t have time to worry about what was coming. I had to figure out how to beat it.
In the garage, I found the silence. The whispers weren’t absent again; they just seemed to have broader boundaries. I thought maybe it was my dad’s spirit that was keeping them at bay around my house, though I didn’t understand why it would have changed recently.
When I reached the end of my driveway, I heard the whispers begin; I’d reached the end of whatever invisible boundary they had. I put the car in park, prepared to help a few of them before I drove. When I did that in the past, they were always more agreeable, more patient with me.
Today was different, though. I didn’t hear my name; at least, I didn’t think I did. It sounded like there were millions of them; the sound was a harsh, violent hiss. It was so loud that I covered my ears and squinted my eyes closed. The pain was agonizing. It felt like my eardrums were going to burst from the powerful vibration of the hiss. The whispers weren’t angry; it was more like a warning, like they were trying to tell me to stay at my home, but I didn’t care for anyone telling me what to do. Especially shadows. Just as I went to say, “Show yourself,” they stopped - and just as they stopped, an exploding white light consumed everything around me.
Chapter Two
My heart was beating so violently that my chest hurt. As I shielded my eyes with my hands, I felt a peaceful bliss come over me; it was so calm that it nearly stopped my heart. It was as if every shadow had been helped at once and the light that they simultaneously became was so vibrant that it was blinding. It diminished just as quickly as it appeared. I focused on the bliss that I thought I felt, but it faded with the light as well. I tried to think if I’d thought or done something differently than I normally had done, but there was nothing.