I stand up and scan my eyes up and down Alex’s walls. Scribbles cover every inch. They’re mostly stick figure drawings like Sammy’s.
I miss him.
I turn around to face the opposite wall, still admiring all of Alex’s artwork. A mirror catches my eye. I haven’t wanted to look at myself since I got home from the hospital. I’ve been scared of what I might see, or what I won’t see. But the reflection that just caught my eye drags me in.
A little girl with curled brown pigtails, reddish freckles, bright green eyes, rosy cheeks, and a pink sundress with bright green watermelons on it. I don’t remember ever wearing something so pretty.
I hear another wave of feet pound down the hall. The running stops. Footsteps creep up behind me, and a hand is placed on my small shoulder. “Mornin’ sleepy head.” I whip my head around. “Have a nice nap? Do you need a new diaper too?” He laughs, poking fun at a seven-year-old having to take naps.
“Very funny.” I mimic his laugh.
“Hey, Chloe.” His eyes morph into a devilish glare. “I’m gonna getchya.” He pulls out a toy gun from behind his back. I gasp and back up against the wall. He laughs and drops the gun. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know you hate this stupid thing. Here, maybe this won’t scare you.” He pulls out a small rosebud from behind his back and hands it to me.
“A flower?” I ask.
“Roses are your favorite,” he says.
“They are,” I agree. I inspect the flower and see that a locket is wrapped tightly around the stem. “Put that in your pocket, and promise me you’ll never lose it again. Okay?”
I nod. “I promise, Alex.” He wraps his arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. “Everything is perfect now,” he whispers. “Our dreams have come true.”
He pulls away and shoves his pinky finger in my face. “Best friends forever?”
“Forever,” I say.
My smile hurts. I’ve never smiled this hard.
“Chloe, Alex, time to go,” a voice calls.
We both run out into the living room. My mother, Celia, and Alex’s mom are seated on the couch with teacups in hand. They are all smiling, all happy. “Alex, honey, go get Chloe’s sweater for her,” his mom says.
“Sure, Mom.”
“Chloe, sweetheart, did you have fun?” My mom smiles and opens her arms out wide.
“I did. Yes.” I walk over to her and she wraps her arms around me. “Love you, Chlover-belle. Do you want macaroni and cheese tonight?” She looks more excited about that than any kid would. “Dad said he’s making it special just for you.”
“I would love macaroni and cheese…Mom.”
“I will see you two ladies tomorrow after school,” my mom says.
“I’ll have the tea waiting,” Celia chirps. “Bye, Chloe.” She blows me a kiss and winks her eye at me.
***
I walk in through the large metal doors of the familiar elementary school. The halls are bright, full of children’s drawings. I was told to go to room 2 today—first day of second grade. I look at each wooden door until I find the right classroom. I walk inside and see Alex sitting in the back corner, waving at me frantically. “Chloe, I saved you a seat!” he yells from the back of the room.
I walk on back and sit in the empty desk. I feel nervous—first day of school jitters. The classroom filters in with at least two-dozen seven-year-olds. The scent of chalk and dust ring as a reminder of what the first day of school smells like.
A male teacher walks in and writes his name on the board with a piece of chalk. The name says, Mr. Jack Ousterwitzel. He draws a straight line under his name, and I hear some of the kids trying to pronounce his last name. He turns around and laughs. I recognize him.
“I know, I know. It’s a mouthful. How about you all call me Mr. Jacko?” He’s younger than what I remember, but I’m happy to see he’s a teacher, rather than an assistant murderer. “Time for attendance.” His teeth glisten under the fluorescent lights.
He calls a bunch of names, then Alex’s, then mine. “We have a new student in the second grade, children. Sammy, are you back there?” he calls out.
The little boy in front of me raises his hand. “Sammy?” I whisper. The blonde curls whip around and the glistening blue eyes catch me by surprise. He places his finger up to his mouth. “Shh.” He smiles. “Just visiting.” He offers a quiet laugh.
Alex laughs along with him. “Told you not to worry. He’s still a drifter. He’ll settle down when it’s his time.”
I roll my eyes and find humor rather than shock in seeing Sammy sitting in front of me. I can see what Alex meant by not having to drift. I have felt the urge a couple of times since waking up, but life is so good right now, that I can’t find a reason to leave the current moment I’m living in. Maybe after I’ve lived a long life full of love and happiness, I’ll want to drift back into the past to remember just how happy I am right now.
My parents love me. They treat me as if I’m special. They treat me like they never knew I was broken. I’ve decided to hide the fact that I have an ability that might change how they perceive me. They don’t need to know, and I don’t have a reason to find another reality.
After seeing how hard life can get, I will appreciate every small thing I have. After all, not everyone is lucky enough to know that their very best friend in the whole world will someday be the love of their life and the father of their future child. Someday, my life is going to end like a fairytale and I’ll be able to close my book saying…and I lived happily ever after.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:
YEAR 2023
“I WOULD NOW LIKE to congratulate the class of 2023! Congratulations college graduates, life is out there waiting for you. Make us proud,” the dean yells from the podium.
We all remove our caps and throw them wildly into the air. I did it. I graduated college. I am now a licensed psychologist in the state of Massachusetts. Unbelievable. As I gather my cap from the ground, I stand up to two flinging arms wrapping around my neck. “Can you believe we graduated, lady?” Kiera shouts in my ear.
I nod and smile. “Nope.” It’s unreal. It was supposed to be unreal. She squeals, “There’s Alex!”
I turn around, clutching my cap against my chest. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in firmly against him. His lips cover mine as he lifts me up into his arms. “I’m so proud of you, Chlo,” he whispers into my ear.
My parents rush up behind him, placing their hands over Alex’s shoulder. “Chlover-Belle,” my dad hoots. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”
“Me too, Chloe,” my mom says, wiping a happy tear from her eye.
“Chlo, my parents are waiting for us at the restaurant. You ready to head over there?” Alex asks.
“Yes, but there’s one place I need to stop off at first. Wanna come?” I ask.
He looks confused, but he’ll understand when we get there. It’s something that needs to be done, for myself. “Sure,” he says with a questioning lift of his brow.
We hop into his Jeep wrangler, which is like riding in a comfortable cage. When the temps hit sixty degrees, the roof and windows come off. I don’t mind. The wind in my face, Alex’s hand on my knee, and the feeling of freedom never get old. What may have only been a nightmare for a few hours, has deeply affected every second of my life since then. In a good way.
“Where are we going, crazy girl?”
“Burnette Park Cemetery,” I say, looking straight on in order to avoid the glare I’m probably getting right now.
He doesn’t say a word. He just continues to drive.
I step out of the Jeep and walk up the grassy hill. I stare at the only gravestone with no flowers in front of it. I study the words, In memory of James S. Bonet 1964-2008. No one visits here. No one misses him. But his death saved my life from being the nightmare I experienced. His death allowed me to live in peace. For that, I needed to say, “Thank you.”
Alex places his arm around my shoulder. He knows why I’m thanking hi
m. He knows what could have been. He knows that James’s death gave us life. He wouldn’t say you’re welcome. But I still wanted to say thank you.
With a kiss on my temple, Alex slips his fingers between mine and pulls me away and back to the car.
Alex pulls away from the cemetery and drives on to the restaurant where we are meeting our parents. When we pull into the lot, he puts the car in park and shifts his body to look at me.
“Before we go in, I have to give you your graduation present.”
Excitement roars through my stomach, not knowing what it could be. He shifts his weight and pulls something out of his back pocket. “Two tickets to Paris. You and I have a date at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”
I squeal. I know what he means by that. Why change a moment that was perfect in the first place? Reliving it though, that I would happily do every day of my life. “Can I already tell you yes?”
“No,” he laughs. “Because I haven’t asked you anything that warrants that answer yet.” He winks, toying with my excitement.
“Yes, you have.” I punch him in the shoulder.
“Only in your dreams, baby.”
EPILOGUE
I WAS LOCKED in my own darkness for far too long. I was trapped in a mind that didn’t want to think, feel, or love. Chloe broke me free from a cold world. She changed our past and created our future. A car accident that was meant to be the demise of both of our lives, turned out to be the blessing that saved us both.
I took Chloe to Paris and up to the Eiffel Tower. I asked the girl in my dreams to marry me. To make me the happiest man again. She and I are the only ones who know of the life we almost lived. To us it was real. To us it was fifteen years of struggles. To us, we are soul mates. Nothing in this world could change that.
I loved this girl when I was seven years old. I loved this girl in an alternate reality. I will love this girl until the day we both die. But today, it’s our fiftieth wedding anniversary. I’ve taken her, Sammy, his wife and two kids to Paris for an anniversary celebration.
“You seriously want to go down here, Dad?” Sammy asks, weary of my choice of events today.
“It’s quite amazing down there. Trust me,” I say.
We walk down the hundred steps into the underworld of Paris—the Catacombs—a place in which Chloe and I are no longer afraid. I play tourist and call out the different artifacts and what they represent. Our tour leads us to a large rock in front of a black gate. I watch as Chloe clutches her hand around her heart.
“Alex?” she questions.
I hand Sammy my camera. “Son, take a picture of your mom and me.” I tug on Chloe’s hand and pull her in front of the large rock where her locket once rested. “Smile, Chlo. This is an important picture. I’m putting it in your locket when we get home so you can always remember this moment.”
-THE END-
A NOTE TO MY READERS
Thank you for sticking with me until the end of this series. These three books have meant so much to me, and I feel as though they are a part of me in some ways. I’ve been asked before where I came up with the idea for this story. This is where it originated:
At six years old, I remember sitting on the school bus trying my hardest to stay awake. I lost that battle and fell asleep. I dreamt that I missed my bus stop and it scared me awake. At that moment, I wondered, what if I was only dreaming that I was awake? From that point on, I’ve always thought of that bus ride, wondering if maybe I’m still asleep and someday after living a full life all of these years, I might wake up a six-year-old on that bus ride home from school. Would I change my life? Would you change yours? These are the spinning thoughts that created this wild story.
The mind is a powerful thing and you should never underestimate its capabilities. You never know, you might just be in your own drift right now.
Thank you for all of your love and support.
—Shari J. Ryan
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank my amazing team for your constant support and hard work. To Jennifer Gilbert, my amazing book manager and friend, and Katrina Randall, my incredibly talented editor and friend. A book is nothing without all its moving parts and I appreciate you both for everything you have done. Thank you for being a part of this amazing journey with me.
I owe a big thanks to Katherine Sears and Ken Shear for being the foundation and support for my lifelong dream of publishing books.
To Jesse James Freeman, Allie Burke and Marni Mann, thank you for your endless author support and friendship. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.
Authors depend on the support of all the amazing book bloggers out there. I’ve met a lot of passionate bloggers throughout this experience, and I feel very fortunate to have worked with so many of you. Thank you for your constant support.
My family and friends have shown me nothing but love and encouragement over the past couple of years, and I truly appreciate your consistent interest in books and the path my books are taking. You’ve all made me want to keep writing as well as continue this exciting career of creating new stories.
I could never thank my husband, Josh, enough for the consistent love, support and inspiration you give me every day. You have always been my rock and I write because you told me I should. My books are complete because of you. I love you for always pushing me to reach higher. And to my two little boys, Bryce and Brayden, I want you to always know how important it is to never give up on your dreams. Reach as high as you can, and then when you think you can’t reach any higher, try a little harder--you never know where you might end up.
If you enjoyed The Schasm Series, make sure you check out:
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Coming this fall from Booktrope Editions
PROLOGUE
THE SHADOW GROWS in the corner of the slab wall in front of me and I now know it’s either him or me. It will not be me. I won’t let it. The echo of gravel crunching beneath his feet alerts all of my senses. I hear the hollow short breaths wheezing from his weary lungs. The pursuit is up. I dig my fingertips into the brick wall behind me, bracing myself to face this demon once and for all.
A translucent red dot jumps off the wall behind me, and my focus is pulled further into the conjoining street of this dimly lit alley. I’m able to draw an invisible line between the red glow and a hollow barrel. My throat swells around my tonsils. I can do this.
The shadow slinks into the light and a knot pinches in my stomach.
Krissy.
Blood-stained fingers are buckled around my little sister’s mouth and a knife is pressed against her pulsating throat.
The corners of his lips curl upward into an evil grin, revealing more blood. He’s only holding on for effect—only so I can watch every second of her miserable death.
Her dark cobalt eyes are large with silver speckles from the reflection of the stars above. They highlight her fear. Her chest heaves in and out. In and out, faster and faster, fighting against the last breaths she will take. Time has stopped around us. The world is out-of-focus, and it’s just her and me—the little girl kneeling next to me at our dollhouse, the little girl sitting at the other side of our tea party table, the girl whose shoulder has gathered so many of my fallen tears. The girl who will make my life meaningless once she is gone. I will always protect you, I want to say. But it’s too late.
The hand that doesn’t have a knife pressed up against Krissy’s neck lifts and the red dot finds my chest.
“Last chance to tell me where he is,” he snarls through a gravely shout.
If I knew, I would have told him way before it got to this. My sister should not have to die in his place, and neither should I. I would happily take that bullet for my sister, except I know he has more than one bullet.
I slip my hand into the back waistband of my pants and curl my finger around the trigger. I have one chance. Please, God. Save her. My hands spring forward and I pull the trigger without focusing on the target.
The bullet grazes the side of his
torso, and a simultaneous bite of pain burns through my shoulder. I’ve been shot as well. The right side of my body is immediately numb. My knees buckle and my body tumbles to the gravel as if I were pulled down by a magnetic force.
His grin returns and it glows with hate in the dark. He looks my sister in the eyes and pulls the knife through her throat with one smooth glide. My heart hammers against my ribcage. I can’t feel anything, yet I’ve never felt so much.
Krissy’s thick, wavy onyx-colored hair spills over her flushed cheeks as her head crashes to the pavement. Her eyes are still staring at me, but the girl inside is gone.
The asshole looks back at me. I’m next. And that’s fine. I don’t close my eyes. I will stare death in the face. I am braver than what stands between me and whatever exists on the other side of this life.
Sirens scream in the distance and the glow of lights bounce off the surrounding walls. I called when I gained some headway earlier. I knew I didn’t lose him, but if I were going to call the cops, it had to be that second. I told them where I was leading him.
While it only took them five minutes and twenty seconds to find us, they were twenty seconds too late. Krissy’s neck was already slashed.
Acknowledging the sirens, the asshole points his blood-covered finger at me and the corner of his lip pulls up into a sneer as he shoves the knife into a holster on his leg and darts around the corner, clutching his wounded area with both hands.
I drag myself over to my sister’s lifeless body. I sweep the hair off of her pale flesh and place a kiss on her forehead. “I will kill him, Krissy, even if I die trying. And if I don’t die, I will live for both of us.”
I lay my head on her chest, listening to the slow beat of her heart. I pray for the next thump until there is only silence within her.
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