He found a job in a bakery, and as a result, we work different times. Often, when I get home, he’ll be sleeping or just going to bed. By the time I wake in the morning he has already left. It’s for the best. Seeing him is like a slap in the face of what he has done and my blood boils being near him.
My anger is split between him and me. I’m angry at myself because I know that I’m also to blame for her death. I never confided in her about my dreams and because of that she was put in danger. It’s something I’m reminded of every time I see Joel, and another reason I don’t want to have to deal with him. I led him to Dana.
My body shakes as I feel the guilt weighing down on me and I try to shrug it off. I don’t have any more tears left to cry right now. I finish getting changed into my jeans and a white t-shirt and then slip on my converse shoes. They’re the only thing I still wear from home. I’ve bought a few new clothes here, but never any shoes. They’re worn in and really not worth keeping, however the day I bought these, I was with Dana. She picked them out and I therefore cannot bear to be away from them. It made summer here worse, but they suit me fine now.
I’ve only bought one hoody and I’ve never worn it. If you were to go outside right this second, you’ll see several people dressed like it’s winter, yet I feel like it is still summer. It definitely isn’t cold enough for long sleeved clothing.
I don’t bother to look in the mirror while I brush my teeth and do up my hair. I’ve let my mind wander for too long and now I’ll have to eat and run. I dash outside the bathroom into the kitchen and quickly make myself a sandwich. Not much of a breakfast meal, but it’ll do. I feel comfortable in the silence of the apartment and relish knowing I’m here alone. Even though I keep to my room when I’m here and Joel usually keeps to his room, knowing we’re close to each other makes me feel uneasy.
Placing the leftover food away, I take a bite of my sandwich and turn to leave when something catches my eye. I slowly turn back around, taking another small bite out of the sandwich, pulling it out of my mouth and chewing very slowly.
Our kitchen is small with an open counter that overlooks the mostly unused and bare lounge area. There is an old television set that, as far as I know, has never been switched on, a side table, a lounge that was left behind by whoever rented here previously, and an old, brown rug that I still think smells funny, even though we left the window open in here all summer to air it out. Today there is something else in the lounge room.
A Christmas tree.
My stomach drops to the ground looking at it. Joel has put a fucking Christmas tree up.
Christmas was Dana’s favorite time of year and the only way I can even contemplate surviving this one without her is to forget it even is this time of year. Now there is a massive spotlight on the season in my living room!
My feet are frozen to the ground as I take in the few decorations that have been placed around it. I can see Dana in my mind, shaking her head in disgust at the state of it. There are no lights, which is a big no-no for her. Lights are the best part about the tree. No star on top, either; she wouldn’t like that. The tree looks slightly brown and in need of water.
In my mind, I see her pacing around it with her hands on her hips, in complete shock that this is even allowed to be. The same expression on her face as when Drew had tried to decorate their tree one year by himself. He thought he had done all right until he got a look at Dana’s expression. I thought his effort and her reaction were comical, but to her, it had been deadly serious.
The Dana that I see in my mind glances straight at me and in a blink of an eye she is in front of me and I watch in horror as blood immediately starts to circle her stomach. Her eyes beg me to help her. When I reach out to grab her, I feel nothing and she falls to the ground. I’m frozen in shock and tears fall down my face. I wipe them away and when I look back at where she had been, her body is gone and I’m alone in the apartment.
I glare at the tree, wanting to take hold of it and throw it out the window. Instead, I turn around, throw the remainder of my sandwich in the trash and slam the front door shut. Now I have to run to make the elevator that is closing. I know I’m going to be late to open the store now.
My thoughts circle over the same two things. One is that I hate Christmas, and the other is how much I hate Joel and his fucking tree.
Chapter 3 – The Traditions
Boston, Massachusetts
December 25th (Zoe age 15)
“Guess what Drew made me?” Dana ushers me inside her bedroom, closing the door securely behind us.
“A love poem?” I roll my eyes.
“No, silly. In shop he made me a bookcase. He said, even though he hadn’t been allowed in my room yet, he guessed I would need a new one, or at least I would soon. How sweet is that?” Dana gushes.
“So the guy is handy, that’ll be great when you have to build all those cribs for all those babies you’ll have.”
“Ew, don’t be gross, Zoe.”
“Where is lover boy?” I ask, wondering if this will be the first year Dana will invite him over. This is their first Christmas together, and I know it’ll happen eventually. They’ve been dating for nearly a year now, that’s practically a life sentence, and they couldn’t be happier. Barf.
“He’s not.” Dana shrugs.
“Really? Was he not allowed?” Dana and Drew’s parents have been worried, knowing their kids are dating at what they think is a young age. They have lots of meetings with each other about setting rules and things like that. They have become really good friends and even my mom is friendly now with Drew’s mom. They pretty much have a mothers meeting with each other every two weeks. I’ve just assumed they will all be coming along for the Hen Christmas Night affair.
Ever since Dana caused a blackout when we were twelve from blowing the fuse to the house and, because of the bad storm that came through that made it a whole week before the power could be fixed, we’ve spent Christmas at Dana’s house. After that, we’ve spent every Christmas here, including sleeping over Christmas night. That wasn’t intended to be normal, however the second Christmas we had here, Mom got so drunk on Donna Hen’s spiked eggnog that we had to stay the night. Since then, she’s managed to do that every year. It’s now one of our traditions. Dana and I have created lots of traditions.
“Christmas is our thing, I didn’t want him here.” Dana looks away as she speaks so I know she isn’t being completely honest. She definitely would have liked him to be here, but she is willing to leave him out of our day just to keep it between us.
“Aw, Dana, you could have invited him. I wouldn’t have minded.” I would have, but now that I know she is willing not to have him here just for me, I feel bad.
“Nope. It would violate tradition twenty-eight.”
“Which one is that?” We have so many Christmas traditions it’s impossible to keep up with them all or remember what order we made them in. Usually, when we bring up a tradition, we just make a number up with it.
“The tradition of no boys.”
“You just made that up.” We’ve never discussed the possibility of inviting boys over at Christmas. It hadn’t ever come up; I know I’d remember that.
“I know, but I think it’s important. Shelly G was talking in the girl’s bathroom the other day about how her friend ditched her over a guy she had only been dating a week.”
“You’ve been dating Drew for nearly a year, that’s a lot different than just a week.”
“I know, but our friendship means everything to me. I could be dating Drew for a hundred years and I’d still keep this our holiday.”
I smile at Dana and warmth spreads through me hearing her words. How have I managed to get such an awesome best friend?
“You know that’s going to be an awkward holiday when you guys have kids and are married.” I laugh at her scared expression.
I annoy her a lot with future marriage talk for her and Drew, but I think deep down she loves it. Even though they’re only fifteen, i
t’s clear there is something special about them, something so sweet and loving that everyone else instantly is sick and wants to vomit. They’re so destined for marriage it isn’t funny. Of all the guys at school, though, I suppose I can stand to put up with Drew. I had in fact helped them get together, so I might as well stick with the choice I made to move that along.
“Shut up, I’m going to be a successful investigative reporter that travels the world and reports on all the cover ups. No kids for me.”
Dana often changes her future profession, but one thing remains the same. Writing. She is going to write.
“Well, the first thing you can investigate is how Drew could have gotten an A for shop with that horrible thing.” I point at the bookcase Dana already loves. It isn’t exactly straight and I think the left side is slightly higher than the right.
“Oh it’s great. And look, he painted it purple for me, my favorite color.” Dana pats it like it’s a small animal she is giving love to.
“And what did you give Drew for Christmas?” I ask, not remembering going to the mall to help her shop for him.
“I decorated a photo frame full of things that remindedme of him. I drew a sun set, a love heart, a picture of the park next to school because that is where we had our first kiss—”
“Okay, okay, you guys are full of romance this Christmas.” I roll my eyes at her again.
“Lunch is ready!” Dana’s mom yells out to us from down the hall. We race out of her room and into the dining room. Every year more people came to the Hen’s Christmas lunch and this year it’s packed full of the Hen’s family and friends. I feel a small pang of guilt that Dana didn’t invite Drew and his family.
We all eat noisily while Christmas carols play on the stereo in the background. Decorations clutter every room of the house and I doubt it ever seems like nighttime with all the Christmas lights they have everywhere. The outside is something people drive out of their way to see. It’s another tradition, although this is more a Hen tradition. I usually watch as Dana’s dad puts everything up.
He is one of those awkward guys who is all about sports and more sports. He really wanted a boy, but he had to settle for Dana. I really believe he thinks of her as an alien, it’s almost as if he expects every word out of her mouth to be something about liking boys, or asking about periods, or something girly like that.
It doesn’t matter, though, because every year at Christmas time he makes up for a year of silence. He goes all out with decorations, and for that small amount of time, Dana exists not just as a girl, but as his kid. It’s their special time together. Probably another reason she loves Christmas so much.
After lunch, we have the annual gift giving. Mom and I do our own thing before breakfast, but this is when Dana and I exchange gifts. We have a rule not to spend much on each other and I try to do what Dana would love.
This year I bought a bunch of food for the homeless shelter. I took a photo of myself delivering it to the man that runs it and I put the photo in the card I made for her, along with the lines of ‘Donated in honor of Dana Hen…’. It is a big hit. Dana gives me a huge hug and shows everyone in the room. I even get a proud smile from Mom.
Dana got me a new CD for Christmas this year. It’s a band I’ve never heard of, but I already know what to expect. I have an obsession with indie music of the Scottish variety. It’s their accents I’m sure, but I’m hooked.
Christmas night is always the same. We’ll eat too much for dinner, sing Christmas carols at night and Dana and I will go into her room at the start of the night. Eventually, though, we fall asleep by the Christmas tree, watching the lights flashing for as long as we can stay awake. It’s my favorite tradition we have. Dana said when she was younger she would fall asleep every night during Christmas to the lights, and now I know that, every time I see Christmas lights flashing, I’ll picture Dana under them sleeping. At least, by the time she is too old to be doing things like that, it’ll be Drew’s problem and not mine. For now, I’ll enjoy all the Christmases I have left with her before boys invade.
Chapter 4 – The Warning
Jacksonville, Florida
20th December
I make it home feeling exhausted. The day has been long and after not sleeping for the last few days, I’m ready to collapse into a coma and never wake up and I’m grateful to have tomorrow off work, My eyes drift to the Christmas tree that is still looking pathetic in the living room and glare at it. I’ve attempted to tell Joel to get rid of it many times, but so far I’ve kept my mouth shut. It’s mostly because I feel like this is a punishment I should go through. It’s my fault Dana won’t get a Christmas this year, and my fault Drew and Dana’s family will be miserable.
Even Mom won’t get a Christmas this year. I’m sure everyone blames me for what happened and Mom most likely won’t be welcomed back there. Since I have “run-away”, she’ll be on her own. I wonder what she thinks I’m doing right now. If she’s worried because she thought I would be home by now.
What did she make of my letter? What did Drew think of what I wrote him? I’m glad I got to explain myself, to let them know how sorry I am, but now I worry they didn’t understand my words. I wish I could pick up a phone and call them, simply to know they’re okay.
I eye the tree again, and in my exhausted state, I think for a moment I see Dana sleeping under the tree; she’s only twelve or thirteen and she’s smiling while she dreams. I walk closer and sit down next to her small figure, wishing she was really there, wishing I could reach out and touch her. I need to talk to her so much. I need her to know how sorry I am.
I blink and then she’s gone. I’m alone. I’m not the only one this tree is bringing ghosts out for, either. The other night I woke up early in the morning, unable to go back to sleep, and I heard a voice talking out here. I hid behind my door and listened closely to Joel talking. He was speaking to his parents. For a quick second I feared he had called home and blown our cover, yet when I opened my door, I saw him touching the tree lightly and looking upwards. I remembered then that his parents had died a few years ago. He told me on our one and only sort of date. I realized he put the tree up to be closer to them; that perhaps it was a tradition he did each year, so I left him alone.
The tree brought me back memories of Dana and it brought him closer to his dead parents. I forget that, even before Dana, he had a lot to be messed up about. So far life has just been piling crap onto him constantly. I don’t like to think about it often, but right now I wonder why he received those dreams.
Why did he deserve for his life to be over? Everyone else who came to kill us simply had their future selves sent back. Their early selves still get a chance to live their lives normally. Why did he get chosen to have his life ruined? He may have screwed up and killed Dana by mistake, but he would’ve been in jail no matter what. Either from killing me or attempting to kill me. His life was over as soon as he started having those dreams.
The way future Drew described it doesn’t make sense to me. Was it because he was unable to be sent back that he had those dreams? Drew came back, so why couldn’t he have just done it? Why did it have to be Joel? I don’t understand it, and chances are I never will now. That future no longer exists and the future Joel that made that terrible decision will no longer be there.
I stand and walk away from the tree, happy to have a shower and go to bed. I wash my hair this time since it’s starting to look particularly bad. Yet I avoid looking at the mirror again when I get out. I leave my towel wrapped around my hair and quickly change into my pajamas. I collapse on top of my bed, and since I still feel warm from the water, I don’t bother getting under the covers. I close my eyes and hope that it won’t take me long to fall asleep. Thinking is my worst enemy when I want to sleep.
I look around myself, not knowing where I am. I feel the spark of life in this dream and I know without a doubt I’m entering a future forecast. I’m not sure how to feel about this, but I take note of everything because it must be important.
I see tall brick walls covered in mostly darkness, two, large metal bins and lots of overflowing garbage bags sitting out next to them. I notice a door with a bright light shining over it, and I know I’m standing in the middle of an alleyway. There is no door handle attached, however there is a lock. As I turn around on the spot I see three men hiding in the shadows and a cold shiver hits my body watching them. Without really being able to see them clearly, I know they work for P.A.G.E.
I watch them as they stare at the closed door and my mouth goes dry. My stomach clenches in fear and dread creeps over my body. Whoever is about to come out of that door appears to be what they’re waiting for. I narrow my eyes at the other shadows, wondering if anyone is hiding in them, too.
I know this is one of my future dreams, yet in every dream I’ve had before, I’ve always been me in it. I’ve seen through my eyes. I was there when Dana was shot, I felt Mom’s arms around me when Frank died and I sat in my room, staring out my window, watching Dad leave. So if this is a future dream and I’m seeing this through my eyes, then why am I being completely ignored by these men? I’m standing out in the open and they haven’t glanced my way once. Their sole focus is on the door. That brings me to the next problem, why the hell am I standing out in the open in a creepy, dark alleyway? It doesn’t make sense.
It means I’m either having a regular nightmare and I’m wrong about this being a future dream, or something bad is about to happen and it’s horrible enough that I’m dreaming about it to warn me, even though I’m not someone who witnesses it. Maybe this is a dream that I will be able to change. Perhaps I’m being shown this for a reason.
Taken By Force (Taken Trilogy Book 2) Page 2
