That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction

by A. M. Lalonde

  “I know.” Joel really was a nice guy. I leaned over and kissed him then slid out of the car. “Night.”

  Mom sat on the porch and I waved at her but didn’t go in the house right away. Instead I walked. I was buzzing with so much extra energy that I felt like if I stood too still I might explode.

  As I ventured further into the woods behind my house, I rubbed my arms to ward off the chill. It was cold all of the sudden. Really cold.

  A cracking sound caught my attention and I glanced down to see a thick carpet of frost creeping across the ground toward me. Boreas. The ice spread everywhere, crawling over the ground and up the trees as it closed in around me.

  “Mom!” I shrieked, dashing in the direction of the house.

  My feet flew out from under me and I hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs. In a stunned moment of clarity I realized that even if I made it to the house, I wouldn’t be any safer. My mom couldn’t go up against a god.

  It had to be Boreas, the same freak who’d gone after Persephone. He was the whole reason she was in the Underworld. But what would he want with me? I wasn’t anything special.

  But I mattered to her. She would come for me through hell or high water. But I refused to be used against Persephone like some kind of divine bargaining chip. I made a quick decision, and turned away from the house. There was a ravine about a half a mile to the west. If I fell down that, there was no coming back.

  I tore through the woods, keeping just ahead of the ice as I dodged branches and rocks. He wouldn’t be able to pretend I was alive and in captivity somewhere. Demeter would know if I dropped dead since I was bound to her, had been since birth.

  A white mist materialized around me and a man appeared in front of me. I tried to stop, but lost traction on the ice that spread beneath me and plowed into him. His ice-cold arms wrapped around me and I screamed for help, but my voice was lost on the wind.

  I fought, kicking and screaming. My nails raked across his face. He grimaced and loosened his frigid grip. For all of two seconds, I broke free, then his fist plowed into my face so hard I saw stars.

  Then I didn’t see anything at all.

  If I’d been someone else, this would be when the ground would have split open beneath me. If I were special, this would be the part when someone would whisk me away to safety in the Underworld. But I wasn’t Persephone. I was just her human friend so there was no one to save me.

  But I’m not bitter or anything.

  —ABOUT THE AUTHOR—

  You can find out what happens to Melissa by reading the best selling novel, Persephone! Then sign up for my newsletter for fun freebies and to be kept up to date on the latest news about The Daughters of Zeus.

  www.kaitlinbevis.com

  Kaitlin Bevis spent her childhood curled up with a book and a pen. If the ending didn’t agree with her, she rewrote it. Because she’s always wanted to be a writer, she spent high school and college learning everything she could to achieve that goal. After graduating college with a BFA and Masters in English, Kaitlin went on to write The Daughters of Zeus series.

  REFLECTION

  Katlyn Duncan

  Amelia had no idea how she ended up behind bars. She launched herself from the cool cement floor and backed away from the spot she woke from until something hard pressed against her back. She jumped back from the thick metal rails surrounding her on all sides. She rubbed the side of her head, a small twinge near the back making her wince. Amelia’s memory bordered on photographic, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember how she got there or when.

  There wasn’t much light in the room to indicate the time of day. She shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms. Besides a sore back from lying on the wooden floor, she was unharmed. She inhaled deeply, taking in a sharp, woodsy scent that enveloped her. She slid her hands over her baby-blue shirt and jeans, checking for any more injuries, but there were none. After a few minutes of memorizing the few details of her surroundings, her curiosity outweighed her terror.

  The cage had to be at least six feet long on all sides, just enough for her to move around, and ran from floor to ceiling. She slowly approached the metal bars in front of her, tentatively touching them. Her fingers glided along the smooth, cool metal. She pulled at the bars with all of her strength, but they didn’t budge. She reached through the bars as far as she could, only spaced enough that she could get the length of her arm out. She pulled herself back into the cage and scanned the rest of the room. The cage stood directly in the middle so she couldn’t reach any of the walls, even if she were able to get the extra inch or so up to her shoulder through the bars. The ceiling was made of the same wooden slats that the floor and walls were.

  She stood in the middle of the cage and spun around slowly, memorizing her surroundings. On her second turn, something caught her eye.

  She dashed to the side of the cage to get a better look. Thin strips of light came in through the wooden slats above her. But she focused on something else.

  A stuffed rabbit sat in the far corner of the room in front of what looked like a cutout of a door. Her heart leaped. There was a way out.

  She focused on the rabbit. It seemed more out of place in the room than she did. It had probably been white at some point, but the fur had been worn down. Her thumb and forefinger rubbed together on instinct as if she could feel the smoothness of the ears under her fingertips. She stopped herself, stepping away from the bars, but her eyes trained on the rabbit. She smoothed her sweaty palms on her jeans, ridding herself of the strange feeling the rabbit caused her to feel.

  She knew that rabbit. But how?

  She sighed and turned away, crossing the cage, and she pulled at the bars again. A scream bubbled to the surface and let loose before she could stop it. She grabbed each bar and attempted to break it free. She only needed one to come down; then she could fit through and get the heck out of there.

  After what seemed like an hour, she was dismayed, surprised that her energy didn’t wane, especially since she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Whoever had put her there didn’t intend for her to leave. But who wanted her there? What sicko wanted a sixteen-year-old girl? Gruesome possibilities raced through her mind. What else could she do?

  She resigned herself for the moment and sat down on the side closest to the rabbit. She stared at it. And it stared back.

  “Stupid rabbit,” she mumbled. “You’re out there and just sitting. Why don’t you run away? I would if I were you.”

  As she spoke, her mouth dried up like a cotton ball. She visualized a cotton ball, like the ones her mom used to clean off her makeup before bed. Was her mom looking for her? Did she even know Amelia was missing?

  “Forget your mother,” a slight whisper sliced through the air.

  Amelia perked up but sat still, waiting for the deep voice to speak again. A slow chill crept down her spine. But she only heard the deafening silence around her. The voice had to be nothing but her imagination. This place was making her crazy. She licked her lips, her parched throat starting to burn.

  “Why couldn’t you be useful and get me a glass of water?” she remarked to the rabbit.

  But he just stared at her with his blank black eyes.

  “Hm. What kind of friend are you?” She risked a look around the room, wondering if she’d actually heard the voice or not. Her gaze fell back to the rabbit, his cold eyes staring into hers. “No friend indeed.”

  * * *

  Amelia wasn’t quite sure when she’d fallen asleep, but when she became conscious of the dream, she wasn’t in the cage anymore. She was in her kitchen at home. She scolded the two kittens that were playing in the sink, gently placing them on the floor before they skittered off on their next adventure into trouble.

  Amelia couldn’t wait to tell her mom about the strange dream she’d had. She wandered outside, where the sunlight beat down on her pale skin. She wrapped her arms closer to her body for fear of burning. She’d never had this r
eaction to the sun before.

  “Mom!” Amelia called as she rounded the house.

  “Right here, my dear girl,” her mom called back.

  The warm wind picked up, lessening the sun’s touch on Amelia’s arms, offering relief from the burning sensation. She wanted to go back inside, but she had to tell her mom something important.

  Her mom stood by the clothesline, her yellow-and-white sundress billowing around her. She stood on her toes to reach the top of the line, pulling it to her before clipping the end of a bed sheet. Mom’s hair blew as the wind picked up, the invisible barrier making it harder for Amelia to see her mother as her own blond hair swirled around her face.

  “I have to tell you something,” Amelia shouted over the wind.

  The sky darkened, and a rumble of thunder roared in the distance.

  “You can’t be out here, Amelia. It’s not safe.”

  The sharp tone of her voice scared Amelia. Mom never spoke to her in that way.

  “Why?” Amelia asked, stepping closer to her mom.

  “It’s not safe for anyone when you’re around,” she murmured.

  Even though Amelia knew she should have stopped, her legs propelled her forward. She needed to be close to her mother. And with each step, something satiated a thirst deep in her throat.

  A drop of rain landed on her nose, and she blinked. When she opened her eyes again, her backyard was different. Her mom wasn’t in front of her anymore. Mom was to the side, kneeling next to the basket. Amelia peered over her shoulder, drawn to all the red splotches on the sheets in the basket next to her.

  Her mom’s body trembled. She must be cold from the rain.

  Mom squeaked when Amelia touched her shoulder, but she turned around slowly.

  Amelia gazed at her mother’s neck with longing watching the pulsing rhythm caged within.

  Amelia woke with a start. She swore she’d heard the door to the caged room close. She stood and went to the bars. Someone had been there while she was asleep.

  A bottle of water sat close enough to the cage for her to reach. She grabbed it, twisted the top and gulped down the contents within seconds. Her throat sung with relief, but even when the water was gone, she wanted more. She noticed the rabbit. It had been moved as well. But instead of sitting up, it was on its side. She yearned to make her only companion sit up again.

  A small irrational part of her brain thought the rabbit was the one to give her the water. He did move from his spot.

  Or whoever brought the water knocked him over, a more reasonable side of her argued.

  She cursed and threw the bottle across the cage, her skin itching from the inside out. The bottle crunched when it hit the bars then fell to the floor. She pulled her fingers through her hair. She looked down at her damp hands and for a second, the superimposed image of the blood from her dream. She rubbed her hands together until it disappeared, leaving a thin sheen of sweat over her palms.

  “I’m going mad,” she proclaimed aloud. “Bat-crazy mad.” She turned away from the broken bottle and slumped against the bars facing the rabbit. “Am I mad?”

  His unflinching gaze started to bother her.

  “Are you listening?” she shouted at him. “How did I get here? Let me out!”

  But the rabbit didn’t respond, only continued to stare.

  She whirled around, away from the rabbit’s glossy eyes. She scanned her surroundings. Was there anything else she could try to get out? She fell to the floor and pressed her ear against the rough wood and listened for a few moments. But the only thing she heard was the steady flow of water and a deep hum; neither could help her. Tears threatened to fall, but Amelia held on to the image of her mom. She’d have to get out of here and find her.

  “Forget her,” the voice said again.

  This time, Amelia knew she wasn’t hearing things. The voice was closer than it had been before. Her gaze slid to the rabbit. There was nowhere to hide in the room. And the rabbit was closer, and so was the voice. Her chest constricted, and she was sure her heart was about to explode out of her ribs.

  She continued to stare at the rabbit, waiting for the voice to appear again. None of this seemed real.

  She closed her eyes tightly, willing the voice and rabbit to go away. A tear slipped from her eye, and she let it fall across her cheek then onto the floor. All seemed hopeless.

  “If you forget, you can come out,” the voice said. This time, it spoke slower. It was a male voice and scratchy, almost like her grandmother’s had been after smoking for fifty-odd years.

  Amelia’s head shot up from the ground. The rabbit didn’t have a mouth, but she could have sworn the voice came from that direction.

  She wiped her cheek and stood. “Forget what?” she asked through chattering teeth.

  “Everything.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, goading the voice into speaking more. If she could just figure out where it was coming from. Her attention moved slowly across the room again. Were there cameras? Was someone watching her? Playing with her? The thought made her catch her breath.

  “We’ve been over this before,” the voice hinted in annoyance. “She doesn’t matter anymore. Once you lose her for good, we can stop doing this.”

  Frustration bloomed in her chest. She wanted nothing more than to be outside of the bars. What had the voice meant about they’d been over this before? How much time had she lost since waking up at this place? And how could she ever forget her mom?

  She needed to get out of there, though. “Tell me how to do that,” she said in a small voice.

  The voice didn’t respond.

  Amelia wrapped her hands around the bars, pushing her face into the space between them. “How can I forget her?” she repeated, her voice strained. She had a way out; she just needed to know what exactly the voice wanted. She’d do anything.

  But the voice didn’t respond, no matter how loud she shouted. No matter how many tears she shed. The voice didn’t return to her again. She knew she’d given the wrong answer.

  Amelia didn’t know how long she stood against the bars, waiting for the voice, but when she came to, she was on the floor and her shoulders slumped with defeat. All sense of time was lost on her, and she started to lose her patience. Why hadn’t anyone found her yet?

  Amelia thought of her mother. She had to be so worried. She remembered her mother’s tear-stained cheeks from her father’s funeral; she imagined the same expression and it immediately made her chest tighten.

  Amelia stood with effort, stretching her tight muscles, and moved to the edge of the cage, waiting for the voice to fill her mind again.

  Her gaze fell on the rabbit. She was stunned to realize he was once again sitting up and closer to the cage. And next to it was another water bottle, out of her reach.

  She swallowed as her throat burned with need. She had to follow through with the voice’s instructions. The first request had been to forget her mom. How could anyone forget his or her mother? She had to try, though. She didn’t know how long she could go without water or food, and the sooner she did as requested, the sooner she’d get out.

  Amelia closed her eyes and tried to visualize her mom’s face. Maybe if she could gather all of her memories of her mom, she could replace them with something else? She bit her lip with frustration. She didn’t know if it would work but she had to try. She followed the sharp curves of her mom’s cheekbones all the way down to her permanent smile. Her mom was always happy, at least in Amelia’s memories. Her mother always had a glow about her, but in her mind, the light darkened to that same dark red from her dream. The bright smile that always made her feel safe twisted into a grimace of terror.

  Why is Mom afraid of me?

  The answer came swiftly as Amelia fell back into the dream in her backyard. Her mom was no longer shaking. Amelia dropped to her knees and touched her mom’s thin shoulder. The woman slumped to the side. Amelia jumped, her hand pressing over her mouth, stifling the scream that rose in her throat. H
er hand was no match for the force of terror inside her.

  “She’s dead!” Amelia cried, coming back to reality inside of the cage. She stumbled away from the bars and tripped over her foot, falling to the ground. She looked down at her hands. Thick, warm blood dripped off her fingers. She rubbed them into her jeans, dirtied from lying on the ground for who knows how long.

  She blinked rapidly until the blood disappeared. First from her clothes. Then her hands. She shook her hands until the blood was gone for good. Her fractured memory must have made her remember seeing the blood on her hands. She knew she was losing it, but she had to hold on a little longer until she could get out of there.

  Her heart pounded, and her breathing was ragged. Hot tears stung her face. She didn’t bother to wipe them away.

  “She’s dead,” Amelia breathed. Her mom was dead, and she’d been there to witness it. Had the person who’d put her in the cage killed her mom? Was Amelia next? Was this part of a sick game?

  Her mom was gone. And Amelia had to forget her. She was on her own. No one would be searching for her because the one person she still had in her life was no longer there.

  Amelia swallowed the boulder-sized lump in her throat and bottled up all of her memories of her mom, each one even more painful to relive than the previous. And as if she’d torn a limb from her body, she released her mother from her mind and soul. She hoped it would be enough—she wasn’t sure how much strength she had left to do anything else.

  A loud creaking startled her. She pulled her legs into her chest as the door to the cage opened on its own. It was everything she wanted, yet the thought of leaving terrified her. Other than the voice creeping her out, nothing harmed her inside the cage. Would she face something worse when she went out other. Where was “there” anyway? A part of her wanted to close the cage and wait for someone to find her, though her instincts propelled her toward the water bottle across the room. She fully expected the cage door to close in front of her as some cruel joke, but instead, it stayed open, allowing her to get to her prize. She ripped the cap off the bottle and guzzled the warm liquid within seconds. Again she sucked every last drop, yet she was incredibly thirsty still. The first thing she’d do was find more water. Food would be next.