“Yara,” he whispered at the same time Cherie called “Yara,” from across the room.
My eyes slid past Brent toward her, slamming the door on the moment we had just shared. There wasn’t much I could do for Cherie anymore, aside from stopping Thomas. She was beyond my ability to comfort. I was past the point of being much use to anyone . . . anyone but Brent. My eyes cut to Brent, then darted back and forth between the two, my past and my present, settling finally on Brent’s cocoa brown eyes.
My world lurched, a spasm of dizziness spun through me, and I brought my fingers to my head to steady myself. When the emotional earthquake stopped, I climbed to my feet, stumbling slightly. Brent held out his hand and made sure I was stable before releasing me, my skin hot from his touch. I peeked at him, shyly, from the corner of my eye hoping to see some proof that something had altered in him as well, but he seemed unchanged. He still had the same teasing smile, the same mischievous eyes and casual stance. By all appearances, he was the same old Brent, not one who had been so shaken when he thought he’d lost me. I had to wonder, inside the part of my mind where I could hide such thoughts from him, if I was imagining these significant moments.
Cherie reached out to where I had been standing in our bubble then wrapped her arms around herself. Her grief was still strong, but I could also sense that a kernel of hope had been planted inside her. Her eyes swept around the room as if she knew I was still there, smiling as her hope took root and blossomed.
“Bye, Yara.” She waved goodbye, walking a little taller than she had when she came in. I trailed behind her, following her outside, then watched her leave, knowing she’d be alright. Another hurt that had haunted me was now starting to heal itself, right now it might be like putting a Band-Aid over a wound that needed stitches and was gushing blood, but eventually it would get better.
“Is it always harder for the ones we leave behind?” I asked.
“When you disappeared into that bubble, I thought I was the one left behind. And yes, I think it is.”
My eyes followed Cherie until I lost her shape in the night’s gathering shadows. The moment seemed symbolic— me staying behind with Brent, while wistfully watching as Cherie moved forward in a yet undetermined future. For a few minutes more, I stared at the place where Cherie had disappeared from my sight, trying to imagine myself still beside her. The image wouldn’t form in my imagination; all it could conjure was me walking the path in the opposite direction, next to Brent.
A serene smile plastered itself on my face as I angled toward him, resting against one of the glass walls. “I had no idea that death could be so complicated. One death influences so many people.”
Brent stared past me, thinking. “Yeah.”
I pushed off the wall and walked back into the building feeling Brent behind me. He almost gagged before he covered his mouth and nose. “What is that awful smell?”
I breathed in deeply with a smile. “It isn’t awful. It’s beautiful. It’s Cherie.”
“Well, ‘Cherie’ is so potent, we’re going to be smelling her everywhere on campus for days.”
“I love it.” My fingers played with the necklace Cherie had given me. “She brought me a gift.”
“She was able to put that on you?” Brent’s eyes opened wide and he rocked back on his heels, as he studied the necklace curiously.
“Yep— it was Vovó’s idea.” I then told him all the new information I had received from Cherie.
Brent bit his nails, thinking. “Your grandma seems to know a lot.”
“Yeah, she does. All that time I wanted her to be normal; turns out she was smarter than the whole bunch.”
“It seems to be that way with life.”
I felt the familiar pull, taking me to reenact my death.
****
Everything was black. I felt empty, like some part of me was missing. I had no idea where I was or who I was. I was being rocked gently and I could hear the sounds of heavy footsteps, the crunching of broken glass and labored breathing. I felt a vibration around my neck, lulling me out of my hypnotic slumber, forcing me to pay attention. Still everything was dark, but something was familiar in the air, a smell that I recognized. It reminded me of something, but I didn’t know what. Still, it pulled and tugged at my memory, urging me to remember. I inhaled deeply and for the briefest of seconds a girl with blue eyes and golden blonde hair flashed in my mind. She had a name. I knew it . . . Cherie. I dredged the name from somewhere deep inside my foggy brain.
Where am I?
I was being rocked . . . no, I was being carried to . . . someplace horrible. The person holding me against him wanted to hurt me. I was in danger. My muscles twitched as I feebly tried to break free. Fingers sunk into my skin, and the pace picked up. I tried to lift my heavy eyelids, only managing to open them a crack, enough to see everything was draped in darkness. My tired arms lifted and I scratched at the face I couldn’t see. The figure held me tighter, squeezing even harder, crushing my ribs. I gasped as the air was forced from my chest. Flailing, my foot made contact with my assailant. His grip slackened and I fell into the pool with a huge splash, sending water up my nose.
Wiping the water from my eyes I swam away from him toward the other side of the pool.
“Help,” I screamed between frantic strokes. Another huge splash rippled the water. My heart shuddered in my chest as I glanced over my shoulder, breathing raggedly, afraid he was coming after me. I couldn’t see what had caused the splash, but something was sinking behind me. I reached the far edge of the pool, my trembling fingers curling around the cement as I started to pull myself up. But something strong pushed down on the top of my head, shoving me cruelly underwater.
Water flooded into my open mouth, tunneling down my throat. My mind cried out, trying desperately to communicate with my friends, Help me. He’s trying to drown me. He dove in beside me and the warm blood in my veins crystallized in fear. Struggling to the surface I gasped for life-giving air. I panted for a few glorious seconds before a painful tug of my ankles pulled me down. I clamped my mouth closed just in time, before being forced back under. He crooked his arm around my throat and pulled me like a rag doll across the pool and further under the water. He held me firm while I elbowed, kicked and swung my arms at him, trying to break free. He responded by tightening his hold on my neck and yanking me down further, while white spots of light burst behind my retinas. His free hand grabbed the hem of my dress and looped it through something.
My arms flailed again, frantically trying in some way to stop him or at least to injure him as he bent his legs and pushed off from the bottom of the pool. His foot struck my face as he kicked his way toward the surface. I reached in vain to grab onto his legs.
I watched his distorted image climb out of the pool without a backward glance. I was alone in the pool. Alone in my fate. The water was crushing me, pushing me down. My lungs burned with the pressure and swam in lethal levels of carbon dioxide. I groped desperately at my dress trying to pry it free from where it was caught. It was no use. Reaching behind my back, I tried to undo the slippery buttons. But there were too many and my numbed fingers were too clumsy to undo them. I kicked and pulled at the water with all I had but my body hovered at the bottom of the pool.
I’m dying.
My hair and beautiful dress swirled around me like an eerie scene from a movie. And it seemed familiar, that I had watched before. It didn’t scare me anymore. I already knew the ending. I remembered in a brief instant of clarity that I had died before, that I was already dead. Everything came back to me in a rush. In my mind I directed my thoughts toward Brent, but pictured Steve’s face. Help me! Brent, hurry! I’m drowning. It’s my dress; it’s caught. You’ll have to cut it free.
I was tempted to waste what little air was left in my lungs on a scream, but I didn’t. Even as it felt like my insides would burst, I held on. I knew help was coming this time. Through the water I saw the lights flip on, followed by Steve and Cherie’s images flickering down to
me. I smiled as the world around me went black.
****
There was light behind my eyelids and they fluttered open for a second. I was on the ground with Cherie and Steve around me. My lips lifted in a wan smile before my eyes slid closed.
When I reopened them I was standing beside Brent, watching my friends work on my body. I stretched and felt quite giddy about having put up a fight before I died.
“I feel different. Did I fix it?”
Gruffly Brent answered, “No.” He slammed his fist against one of the plastic tables making it quiver. “You still died. I was so close.” He swore angrily, then sighed deeply. “I got your messages loud and clear, though. That was smart.”
“Messages?”
“Well, your first one for general help made Steve stop for a second and wonder what was going on. That got him coming toward the pool, worried about you. But the second time, when you called directly to me, I woke up and took charge. I knew exactly what to do. It was weird because I had all of Steve’s knowledge, but I was in control. It was genius.”
“It almost worked. Maybe another night?” I offered with an encouraging grin. I examined myself lying on the ground and saw my dress had been torn to shreds.
“I had to cut you free. It was caught on the drain this time,” Brent explained, watching the CPR. “Steve carried a pocket knife and I made sure he had it ready before we even came into the room.”
“I figured you would have to cut it. Too bad I was wearing this impractical dress.”
Brent eyed me up and down. “Still, it does look nice on you.”
I pretended to ignore the compliment, while secretly relishing it. Fighting the urge to preen, I changed the subject abruptly. “When I was my empty shell, the necklace woke me up a tiny bit and then I was able to smell Cherie’s perfume. It almost saved me.”
A smile formed at my lips as I sent Cherie a silent thank you.
Brent sat on a pool chair and dropped his head. “If only we had been a minute earlier. If only Steve could have run faster. I . . . he could have saved you.”
“I don’t think you were supposed to. I think . . . I was meant to die.” I was grappling to find the words to explain to Brent the peace I had already made with death.
“You didn’t die; you were murdered.”
“True.” That fact still chilled me to my very soul. I found myself still trembling slightly at the thought that someone had killed me. “I think I changed it enough to set it right. Maybe I created some sort of physical evidence so they can catch the jerk. And bring him to justice. Perhaps it was meant to be this way.”
I sat down next to Brent as understanding flooded through me, understanding I had refused to see before. “I do think I was meant to die. I think . . .” I blushed as I struggled to find the words. “I was meant to save you. This proves things can change. It’s too late for me, but we can still get your body back.” Brent looked uncertain but I knew I was right. “That’s what all of this is about— stopping the curse and returning you to your body.”
Did I want to die? No, but if my death saved Brent, then it meant something. Brent was such a good guy and still had so much to offer the world.
“So, you’re proposing that it was the universe’s design that you die so I can live?”
“Yes, and break the curse,” I said, wrapping my finger around one of the shredded ends of my dress.
“Well, screw the universe.” Brent started out of his chair and leaned against the round table he had punched earlier, his back toward me.
Gathering my courage, I went to Brent and placed my hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Brent. I’m not sad. I never really understood how people could be willing to die to save someone they love, but I get that now.”
“Love?” He asked the question guardedly, clamping down on the emotions I could read from him.
My heart rose to my throat. I tried to speak but found myself stuttering instead, “I . . . that . . . isn’t what I meant . . .” I gulped, dropping my hand from his arm.
Brent spun around. “What did you mean then?”
Words, thoughts, feelings all abandoned me as I stared into Brent’s eyes. A wide chasm seemed to separate us now and I wasn’t sure if a bridge could be built. A drop of water landed on my arm and was followed by more plinks of moisture. It took me a moment to realize that it was my tears that were wetting my arm. I was crying and I wasn’t sure why.
Brent rocked back on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing how to respond. My slip of words had totally freaked him out. My chest constricted as I stared at him. I mean, it’s not as if I had meant the words, not in the way he was thinking; I totally didn’t—well, maybe I meant them a little, but he was completely overreacting. It was almost physically painful, like my heart was actually being squeezed hard, twisted in a vise. It released and then crushed in agony again. I brought my hand to my heart pressing against the pain. I felt an echoing, a reminder of something that had happened long ago, something I had experienced before but that I never had thought twice about. He let out a puff of air, avoiding my gaze. He stared at Steve, still bent over my body like it was fascinating, like he hadn’t seen it seventy times before.
The pain in my chest returned and I gasped from its intensity, folding myself in half. A clammy chill kissed my skin as the light dimmed, a black fog slipping past the corner of my vision. Pupils dilating, I glanced at Brent, his fingers flexing and unflexing, preparing for battle. He motioned for me to move closer. Still doubled over, I slid my foot closer to Brent but pain spasmed in me again and I stumbled, grabbing my chest, crumpling to the floor. I screamed in a mixture of terror and pain as a strong force grabbed my waist and yanked me away from Brent. He had been tracking the mist’s movement but wheeled toward me as I was dragged away from him, still struggling against my unseen foe.
The mist swirled angrily, following behind me. I didn’t understand; if the mist was still trying to capture me, then what had me? I had no idea where I was being taken, but I was more concerned for Brent who seemed unaware that the mist was drawing closer to him.
“Run!” I screamed. He stood frozen in place, watching me being pulled further from him, his hand outstretched. Each side of Brent’s face stood out in stark contrast to the other. The flickering fluorescent light illuminated one half and the other was wrapped in darkness. It seemed to paint him as half hero and half villain. “Go now!” I begged hysterically.
Brent stepped toward me and I felt him trying to pull me back. Despite his strength, I continued sliding further from him, his efforts no more than a gentle tug.
My voice came out weakly, “Please, save yourself.”
The sensation in my chest was increasing in frequency and pressure. It had been painful at first but faint and irregular, now it was steady and strong. The feeling again reminded me of something. And suddenly I knew; my heart was beating again. Wildly I looked at Brent. He returned my gaze in understanding; he knew, too. He dropped his arms, his shoulders and head sagged as he released me. Brent’s shape was becoming lost as the world became too light and too dark at the same time.
I needed to make sure Brent was all right. I needed to know he had hadn’t been captured. I shook my head violently, trying to clear my vision. Everything had lost its color. In my stomach I felt a wrenching sting as the link between Brent and I was severed. In vain I tried to feel his fate before the darkness enveloped me.
Chapter 15
From far away, I heard a voice sweetly call my name, a voice I didn’t recognize. My eyelids felt like they had been anchored down and it required superhuman strength to open them. For half a second, I managed to peek out at the world. A woman who I didn’t know was standing beside me. After a few more attempts, I managed to keep my eyes open. A bright fluorescent light hummed above me. I didn’t understand where I was, but the woman was still there. She had a kind face that housed thoughtful hazel eyes, and long hair the color of molasses. I guessed she was a doctor by the white lab co
at she was wearing and the stethoscope around her neck. I blinked at her in confusion.
“Hello Yara. I’m Dr. McCubbin. Do you know why you’re here?”
It sounded like an easy enough question. As my mind grasped for answers I looked around for the first time. I was in a hospital room, sterile, devoid of personality, painted a non-descript color of white with a yellowing ceiling and faded charts clinging to the walls. A tattered chair was positioned next to my bed. I had no idea how I had ended up here. My head felt heavy as I pressed against the thin pillow. I lifted my hands to wipe at my eyes only to find them connected to an IV and several other machines.
“No,” I answered hoarsely, my raw throat making my voice sound scratchy. I swallowed, trying to clear the sandpaper feel, but that only made it hurt more. In fact, my whole body ached, and I rearranged myself, trying to ease the throbbing pain and suffering. It didn’t help. “It hurts.”
The doctor smiled at me kindly, tapping my IV. “I know. The drugs will kick in soon.”
I closed my eyes, willing the drugs to work faster, taking the opportunity to try to remember why I needed to visit the hospital. I concentrated my thoughts backward, trying to replay events that had led me here. I remembered the dinner party Cherie had thrown, and then talking with Brent after it in the pool house. The idea of the pool brought a feeling of dread I was at a loss to explain.
The events seemed like a chalk drawing in a rainstorm, important details being washed away by the water, leaving behind a smudged slate. I attempted to coax my memory further, but it didn’t work. Every time I concentrated, the answers danced out of view, taunting me just out of reach, yet I knew what eluded me was important and it was vital that I remember.
Panic tightened around my heart and my chest clenched. I tried to breathe deeply but my lungs refused to comply. Shallow breaths were coming too fast and I was forced to close my eyes against the suddenly spinning room. I never would have believed how terrifying it could be not to remember and understand what had happened.
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