She started for the door but something stopped her. She turned around. The rabbit’s back was to her, but she could still see its blank eyes in her mind. She plucked the rabbit up by the ears and held it close. The stuffed animal couldn’t protect her, but offered a security she couldn’t explain. And he offered her the confidence to push through the wooden door that held her future behind it.
* * *
Beyond the wooden door was a set of cement stairs. The temperature outside was cooler than the room with the cage, and a dampness clung to her skin as she neared the stairs. More light filtered into this area, and she was somewhat relieved that she could make out her surroundings. The walls were spotted with fuzzy growth and mixed with the woodsy scent; she knew she was close to getting out of her strange prison. She hugged the wall, still clinging to the rabbit in her hands. She hummed a tune to kill the silence.
The familiar tune clutched at her heart. It was the lullaby her mom sang to her every night, even when she was too old for songs. She stopped singing, not wanting the voice to realize she hadn’t completely forgotten about her mother. If she could hold onto something, Amelia wanted it to be that song.
A hatch covered the top of the stairs, and she adjusted the rabbit under her arm so she could push it open.
A cool breeze wrapped around her in a tight embrace, and she inhaled the fresh scent that both made her excited and sick to her stomach. She pushed the door all the way open and stepped out onto the forest floor, inspecting her unfamiliar surroundings. She shivered as she spun in place, realizing her cage was underground with no landmark to inform anyone where she’d been. She moved the leaves and other debris from where she thought the room had been, and her search revealed thick wooden slats just like the floor of the cage. She jerked away from the wood as if it had stung her. Even though she had no idea where she was, she needed to get far, far away from here as soon as possible.
Leaves and fallen sticks from the trees crunched under her feet as she ran faster and faster until the world blurred. She couldn’t see it yet, but she could feel the edge of the forest getting closer to her.
Excitement coursed through her. “We’re almost there.”
Something caught her eye, and she stumbled, nearly dropping the rabbit. She regained her legs and spun around, narrowing her eyes and flashing her teeth to whoever was out there. But she saw no one. She pressed her lips together, unsure where her strange reaction had come from.
She shook her head. “It was probably an animal.”
She turned back around, and the sudden burst of red startled her. She skittered backward, nearly tripping over a tree root. Dark red paint covered the trees around her and the leaves on the ground. A metallic scent filled her nostrils, and she inhaled several times before she realized it wasn’t paint.
Her fingers curled around the stuffed rabbit. She closed her eyes, remembering how the blood had gone away last time. Her hallucinations had followed her out of the cage room. Her mother’s death stayed with her, even though she’d tried to forget it.
Was this punishment for remembering the lullaby? She had to completely rid her mind of the memories again. She pressed the worn fur of the rabbit against her mouth and opened her eyes. A whooshing breath escaped her lips—the trees were unstained. A brief smile curled her lips before turning downward. Someone stepped out from behind the tree in front of her, the girl’s back facing Amelia. She was Amelia’s height and had similar blond hair. The similarities weren’t frightening until the girl’s arm dropped, revealing the same tattered rabbit Amelia herself carried.
Amelia jumped back, letting the rabbit fall from her hands and land on the forest floor. Her ragged breaths pushed through her dry lips.
The girl stopped walking and turned around slowly. The lower half of her profile was stained with slick blood.
Amelia scooped up the rabbit and ran away before the girl turned around completely. She hadn’t had a good look, but there was something about her that she needed to get away from.
Her steady breathing filled her head as she distanced herself from the blood-soaked girl. She dared to look and relief spread through her like a cool breeze when she realized she wasn’t being followed.
As far as I know.
In the distance, the forest thinned. Even though Amelia had escaped from the place where she’d been held captive, her nerves were on high alert. She approached the edge of the woods slowly, checking behind her every few seconds in case the girl somehow caught up with her.
She hesitated behind a large tree trunk, peering across a well-manicured lawn. A gray Victorian-style house stood in the distance, a beacon for her safety. It looked familiar, but her whirring mind couldn’t place it.
Unless they were the ones who captured you.
Amelia glanced behind her. She wanted to be far away from those woods and the creepy girl as she could. She could keep running through the woods and possibly find another house, one that wasn’t so close to her prison. She might not find anything else for miles, and the house probably had a phone. She could call for help and then take cover in the woods until someone arrived.
A twig snapped behind her and she made her decision. Amelia ran toward the house.
In a few moments, she found herself plastered to the side of stairs leading up to the back porch. An instinct knew she was safer here than in the woods. She climbed the stairs slowly and as quietly as she could, keeping her eyes peeled.
She peered into the closest window, but the shades were drawn. She tried a few more windows, but they were the same. She supposed it was well enough that they couldn’t see her when she approached the house. Though she was hesitant to go inside the house without knowing if anyone was inside.
She rounded the porch to the front of the house. There were no cars in the gravel driveway. A good sign that maybe she was alone, but also nothing to escape with. Her heart sank when she realized the house was surrounded on all sides by forest. She’d have to brave the woods again to find her way out. Her limbs were heavy, and her hands started to shake. She didn’t think she’d be able to make it without water or rest. She’d made a phone call to the police and wait.
She loosened her grip around the rabbit. “Someone will come and find me. I just have to get inside.”
She tried the front door, but it was locked. She returned to the back of the house and tried the back door. To her utter surprise, it opened. She stood still for a few seconds before steeling herself and pushing the door wide enough to slip through. She left it open for a quick escape route and inspected her surroundings.
For all the things she couldn’t remember the past few days, she remembered this house. She stepped backward as if the world would swallow her whole. She pictured her grandmother making pancakes by the stove. Her gaze went to the living room, and she could see the two of them putting a puzzle together only a few years ago. Why hadn’t she recognized the house before? Tears stung her eyes. What had happened to her in the caged room? Had she been drugged? Nothing seemed real.
“Gram?” Amelia choked, dropping the rabbit to the floor of her grandmother’s yellowed tile floor.
More flashes of memories blinded her when she crossed the room. A chair blocked her movement as it appeared in front of her from nowhere. She skittered back, slamming her hip against the counter top, waiting for her vision to clear. She saw the way her grandmother’s house appeared from when she was a little girl, always clean and the scent of something sweet baking, but the memory flipped to the room’s current state, unkempt and downright filthy. Was Gram sick and unable to clean her house? Or did she live here anymore? Did she know what had happened to Amelia’s mom?
Amelia ground her teeth together and started forward again, keeping her mind in the present. She entered the living room, glancing at the giant mirror above the mantle, and shrieked when the blood-faced girl stared back at her through the glass, her own expression as shocked as Amelia’s.
She whirled around. She was alone. But this time, she di
dn’t dare look back at the mirror.
“Gram!” she called.
She crossed the room to the narrow hallway. To her left were a half-bathroom and the stairs to the cellar. She shuddered to think of any place underground. She moved to her right and peered out the window next to the front door. The driveway was still empty.
She started for the stairs and kept her back against the wall as she ascended. Gram was sleeping. That was all. That was why she didn’t answer Amelia’s call. When she reached the top of the stairs, the scent of blood filled her nose and she wrapped her arms around her stomach, nearly falling to the ground at the sudden, overwhelming pain. Heat licked at her throat, and she raced for the bathroom across the hall. She turned on the sink and dipped her head into it, drinking from the tap.
The second the water touched her lips, she spat it out; the rancid taste of something foul clung to every inch of her mouth. She shook her head and swiped her arm over her lips, removing what was left of the water from her face.
“Stop fighting it.” The voice was back.
Amelia froze in her spot, her legs turned to jelly with the last syllable spoken by the strange voice. She stood still, waiting to hear it again, but the only sound was the rush of her breath screaming in her ears.
Her teeth chattered as she forced herself forward and back into the hallway. She sucked a breath through her teeth when her focus landed on the rabbit she’d dropped in the kitchen. How did it get upstairs?
Her attention darted over the floral wallpaper, touching each of the doors leading to the other bedrooms.
“Wh-who’s there?” Amelia stumbled over the question.
The voice didn’t answer.
She stepped forward and lightly kicked the rabbit and, as expected, it fell over, lifeless.
Not that she’d thought it would come alive, but she wasn’t sure if she really had gone mad. She was already hearing voices and seeing things.
She entered the first room, a guest room. The next one, a sewing room. Both empty.
Amelia swallowed hard as she approached Gram’s bedroom. Her hand hovered over the knob, and she pressed her lips together and pushed it open. The scent of blood overwhelmed her, making her mouth water.
A strange sensation.
She took a second to allow her eyes to adjust to the pitch-black room, the only light coming from the hallway behind her.
“Come in.” The rich, silky smoothness of his voice sent a shiver down Amelia’s spine.
She glanced at the space where the rabbit had been. She blinked a few times, but it didn’t reappear in the hallway.
“Who—who are you?” Amelia croaked.
“That’s not important right now,” he said from the darkness.
“Are you inside my head?”
“When I want to be, yes.” He was toying with her.
She stepped into the room. “Why can’t I see you?”
“You’ll see me when you want to,” he mused.
She flipped the switch on the wall, illuminating the empty room. The room was stripped to only four bare walls. But sitting in the middle of the room were three water bottles and the rabbit.
She shot forward, ripped the cap off one bottle and chugged the liquid. It wasn’t nasty like the tap water had been. It was as if this had come from the freshest stream, invigorating her. She did the same with the other two bottles. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to get her fill. Unlike before, she was satiated with what she’d been given, and a lightness filled her as if she had devoured a hearty meal.
“Better?” he said from behind her.
She whirled around, catching only a glimpse of fabric disappearing in her peripheral vision. “Stop playing games!”
“I’m right here,” he said. “You’re not ready to see me. I’ve said it over and over. Let go of her, and you’ll be free.”
“I already did!” she cried.
The bloody girl appeared in front of her, and Amelia screamed.
It wasn’t a reflection anymore. They looked exactly the same. They were the same. She stood in front of herself as if in front of a mirror. But the girl wasn’t mirroring her stance. There were two of them.
“What’s going on?” Amelia asked in a shaky voice.
Her bloody twin flashed red-stained teeth, and Amelia lashed out, touching something smooth and cold, not the warm flesh she expected. She cocked her head, able to see the thin outline of a mirror. She moved slowly toward the girl, not letting her out of her sight that time. Two women dressed in white stood behind the mirror-Amelia.
“Mom? Gram?” Amelia cried, her mouth suddenly dry. She knew her mom wasn’t alive, but she wondered what her Gram was doing with her mom. The worst-case scenario flashed through her mind, but she shoved it away. Gram had to be alive. She had to.
Neither of them moved from their spot. Mom kneeled on the ground, the same way she did in Amelia’s memory. And Gram reached for something above her. The mirror-Amelia smirked and turned away. Amelia reached out again, still touching glass instead of a person.
Mom and Gram turned to the girl, and their expressions filled with horror. Both of them held their arms in front of them in defense as mirror-Amelia neared them. Their mouths open in silent screams as the mirror filled with blood.
Amelia cried out, and a deep crack split the length of the mirror.
“I killed them,” she whispered, choking on her words. I murdered my family.
“Yes,” he said encouragingly.
Another crack formed in the glass as Amelia realized she’d already experienced the scene in front of her. Mirror-Amelia leaped on Gram and latched on to her neck. A sob escaped Amelia’s lips as she relived her memories. She even tasted the warm, delicious blood.
On the floor next to her were the strewn water bottles. She picked one up and noted the faint drops of blood stuck to the indents of the bottle. It hadn’t been water she’d craved. The thought should have made her sick, but instead, it made her thirstier.
“What am I?” she asked.
His form flickered in the corner of the room. Amelia knew he was the same as her, and he’d have the answers she sought.
“Once your humanity is gone, your transformation will be complete. Sometimes, the mind takes more convincing than the body.”
Flickers of the caged room filled her vision. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in this situation. And he’d been patient with her every single time.
Amelia watched mirror-Amelia. She drained Mom and Gram until they were still. Then the mirror shattered to a million pieces, tinkling like a wind chime as the glass hit the floor and disappeared.
She glanced at the rabbit sitting in the middle of the room.The man who’d changed her into the creature she’d become made her feel more safe than she ever had before. He’d been right about her mind slowly catching up because with each passing second the hurt she felt over her family lessened until it was a dull ache she knew wouldn’t last more than a day. A sign of what she was to become. What she chose to become. Something new. Someone reborn. Sacrificing her family had been the only choice to get what she wanted—immortality. Forgetting her past was the first step since no one from her previous life would matter in a century anyway.
She kneeled next to the stuffed rabbit and examined it. The eyes were no longer glossy like they’d been when she was a kid. They were scratched and worn with time, almost like the missing tufts of fur. It was her talisman to propel her into a life she’d chosen. A life she wanted. She’d taken that rabbit everywhere, linking it to the person she’d been trying to forget.
“Griffin,” she said to the man.
He stepped from the shadows, revealing his features. The sharp lines of his face intensified with his wide Cheshire grin. Her fingers twitched at the memory of his impossibly smooth skin against her fingertips. His rigid posture relaxed as he came closer to her, the outline of his over-sized top hat sharpening with each step. “Yes, Amelia?”
She stood, holding the rabbit in her h
ands. Her fingers gripped the fabric where the head met the body, the weakest part of the animal. And she pulled, severing her ties to the past, to her humanity. The sensation was easy, like ripping a piece of paper, but the accompanying freeing feeling was almost as precious as the blood she’d hungrily drank only moments before.
“I’m ready.”
—ABOUT THE AUTHOR—
Katlyn Duncan writes young adult novels for HQ. She lives in New England with her family and enjoys bringing her stories to life in the same setting.
If you enjoyed Reflection, you can sign up for her newsletter for updates on future novels (and fun giveaways!): www.katlynduncan.com
PUSH
Leia Stone
It was a warm day in June when I got my first period. I was fourteen years old and I mistook the wetness between my legs for sweat. Only when the kids pointed and laughed, did I realize. They say you change once you go through puberty. That is the understatement of my life. That day jumpstarted my “gift” as Mimi calls it. Now, six years later, I can assure you it is no gift. It’s the curse from hell and if I could leave it behind and give back my periods and big boobs, I would. But I can’t and so here I sit in a barn in south Texas, with the gift of thinking anything I want into reality. Sounds badass, doesn’t it? Nope. Don’t for one goddamn second think that it is. Did you know the average human being has 50,000-70,000 thoughts a day? That’s 70,000 times I have had to breathe slowly and subdue the urge to manifest a stupid half-placed thought into the world.
Why not be rich? Famous? Cure cancer? End world hunger? I’ve THOUGHT that already. That’s when they showed up. The Creepers. The men with shaved heads that wore black business suits and carried guns. Whenever I’ve tried to Push a thought that would impact the general population of earth, they came for me and tried to kill me. So I’ve kept my thoughts to myself as much as possible.
That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction Page 5
