Five
Molly walked out into a world of white. Large patches of ice floated on an immense lake. The smell of salt water and damp earth hung in the cold air. There were tall buildings—skyscrapers—on the land along the lake, all of them crumbling, with smashed windows and enormous holes punched in them. What looked like the scaly skins of huge creatures were piled in a heap next to the lake.
Molly stood on a hill of bare ground. Five strange structures circled the hill top—looking like oval mirrors. But instead of glass, black smoke swirled within the mirrors. The Girl stepped from one of the mirrors. She smiled. “We both had to come through one of those to get here from your uncle’s house.”
Molly felt her eyes and mouth widen. There was something terrifying about the shadows. “But what are they?”
“We call them the Shadow Keepers. The monsters had shadows that could roam free and hurt people. But the shadows could also be used by humans to travel through to faraway places. When the monsters left, we harnessed five of their shadows.”
“But the monsters were just a fairy tale,” Molly protested.
“No, they were real. The story I told you back in your bedroom was about me. I was that girl.”
Molly understood then. She understood she was asleep and she’d stepped into a dream. Monsters and Shadow Keepers and girls who ran away and got locked away for years were not real. She’d been in bed when the girl appeared and she must have already fallen into a deep slumber. The girl hadn’t wanted to touch Molly because she was just thin air. The school counselor had told Molly that The Girl wasn’t real. She’d told her that dreams were your mind trying to make sense of the world. In dreams, you could be anything, do anything. Without consequence. Once, Molly had dreamed she’d bounced her ball straight into sour Mrs. Hodge’s face and given her a bloody nose. Waking up from that dream, she’d felt good. And not sorry at all.
Right now, she was running far away from Uncle Devlin and Sashelle. And it felt good. A weight had lifted from her small shoulders. And she intended staying in the dream for as long as she could.
Staying a few paces away from Molly, The Girl led her to a field, where men and women worked the frozen dirt. “The ice is melting, but slowly. One day, the world will return to how it was before and we’ll start again.”
“I hope it stays frozen for a while. I’d very much like to play in the snow.” Molly wanted to have some fun before she woke. The Girl was too serious to be much fun. Molly hoped there would be other children in her dream.
The Girl glanced at Molly quizzically, a pale eyebrow raised. But she said nothing.
A man with sweat trailing down the sides of his handsome face put down his hoe and strode across the field to them. Black hair was long around his serious gray eyes and strong shoulders. From behind, he closed his arms around The Girl’s middle. He gazed at Molly. “Hi. I’m Parker. I’m glad you came.”
The Girl rested her head of dark red hair against the man’s shoulder and smiled up at him.
“Did you fight the monsters, too?” Molly asked.
Parker seemed taken aback for a moment, then he gave a rueful laugh. “No. I wasn’t nearly tough enough for that. I’m nothing like my wife. But I’m trying to make up for that now.”
More people came. People who seemed to know Molly. Of course they did. It was Molly’s dream, and everyone in it would know her.
A woman with dark skin and silvery hair smiled widely. “We’ve been hoping you’d come. Welcome, child. I’m Nabaasa.”
From the awed way the others looked at Nabaasa, Molly could tell they all looked up to her.
The people gathered around Molly in a circle, each saying hello and telling her their name. Molly was confused. If this was just a dream, why were people telling her their names? After all, she was never going to see them again. They were just imaginings, thin air—weren't they?
A small girl with sunny-brown hair and eyes grinned shyly. “I’m Frances. I’m seven, too. Hope we can be friends.” Running over, she hugged Molly before Molly knew what was happening. She could smell the earth and snow in the girl’s hair and feel the pressure of her thin body. Warmth tingled from Molly’s fingertips to her toes.
“You touched me,” Molly breathed. “I thought no one could do that in this place.”
“It’s okay to touch me. Just not Molly.” Frances pointed to The Girl.
The Girl bowed her head.
Molly inhaled a gasp of icy air. “That’s your name, too?” she asked The Girl. “You’re Molly?”
The people went quiet.
The Girl nodded at Molly. “Yes, you and I share the same name. Come and walk with me, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Frances let go as Molly broke away to walk alongside The Girl. As before, The Girl kept her distance from Molly. Because in the rules of the dream, they couldn’t touch. Together, they stepped back near the lake, where they’d entered this world.
“I have the hardest thing of all to tell you,” The Girl said. “But here it is . . .” She breathed deeply. “I am you. And you are me.”
Molly’s head shot up. She stood dead still, staring at the girl.
The Girl drew her lips in. In the bright, whitish light, her freckles stood out on her pale face—one freckle at the corner of her left eye in exactly the same place as Molly’s. Light blue eyes ringed with darkest blue, just like Molly’s. She had a determined set to her chin, just like Molly’s.
“That’s not possible.” Molly’s voice came raspy and strained through her teeth.
“I know. It’s going to take a while for you to accept. But listen to me. There are billions of worlds. In billions of universes. And in worlds beyond counting, you exist. At all different ages. Having all different kinds of lives. In some worlds, your life is unfolding exactly as mine did. Your life is one of those lives.” She held out a hand toward Molly and then snatched it back. “I want to hug you, but I can’t. If I touch you, you will disappear. Because we’re essentially the same person.”
Molly felt her ribs tighten. “No . . . .”
She didn’t like this dream anymore. It made her afraid and confused. She could still feel Frances’s touch on her skin—how could a person feel touch in a dream? This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to run and play in the snow and make snow balls—she wanted a happy dream that made her forget.
The Girl fixed her gaze on Molly. “I’m afraid it’s true. It’s very, very difficult to find other worlds through the Shadow Keepers. But I found you, and I wanted to help you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before we came here?” Molly demanded.
Bright tears edged The Girl’s blue eyes. “Some things are hard to tell, because you know they might not be believed. But those are the things you must tell. I don’t want my story to become your story. Like you, I was seven when Mama died and I went to live with Uncle Devlin.”
Sucking in a breath of air, Molly shook her head. “That’s why you were there with my mother the day she died. You didn’t come to help me. You came because you wanted to see Mama again.”
Pressing her mouth into a taut line, The Girl nodded. “Yes, I wanted to see Mama again. It was foolish, but I did. You weren’t supposed to see me. But you did. And I knew I couldn’t just go back to my own world and leave you there like that. Please understand that there are countless Mollys going through what you’re going through now. I can’t help all of them. And I can’t even get to them.”
Molly wrapped her arms around her chest. A cold, shivery tremor passed through her. “You would have seen Mama taking the tablets. Why didn’t you stop her?”
“I was too late. I got there after she’d taken them. She saw me, when she was crossing between life and death.”
“What happened when Mama saw you?”
The Girl wrung her hands. “She . . . thought she was seeing a vision. She said out loud that she knew you had no future with her—that she could never give you a good life. And she cried. It made me understand a littl
e about the things that made Mama so sad and why she used to have so many crying times . . . .”
“Why did you even bring me here?” Molly cried. "If I am your double, what's the point of me being in this world?"
She bent her head. “I just wanted you to be safe. I told everyone here about you, and they wanted you safe, too. I thought maybe, if I took you away from Uncle Devlin for a while, you might feel strong enough to tell someone about him when you get back.”
Molly walked away for a few steps, her feet making dark marks in the snow. A thought formed in her mind that was so immense and pure and wonderful it almost made her gasp. She pointed at the Shadow Keepers that stood on the hill. “How do they work?”
The Girl frowned at the sudden change in conversation. “The Shadow Keepers are dangerous to use. You have to completely empty your mind and focus on where you want to go. It takes time and training. A person could easily end up anywhere. Even an alien world filled with monstrous beings. I only brought you through one of them because I’ve learned how.” She gazed at the cold sky. "I guess the reason we called the frames that we keep the shadows in shadow keepers is because through them, we can go to our past, our future or any of a billion different presents. But all those other lives are just shadows of us. We have to live the life we've been born to and create the very best life we can, because the decisions we make in this life affect all our other lives. The stronger we are, the stronger every one of our lives become."
Molly nodded, but she was no longer listening. She was wondering why she was asking someone for instructions within her own dream. Surely Molly could make up her own rules? But The Girl had been useful—she’d just given her the tool she needed to get back to Mama. Even if just for one precious minute, Molly could be with Mama again.
All she had to do was step through a shadow door.
Molly started running. Cautiously at first, then at fast as her legs would take her. She raced away to the Shadow Keepers.
The Girl’s voice rang out clearly in the crisp air, rising to a scream as she realized where Molly was headed. “Molly! No! No!”
Molly stopped at the top of the hill, her hair blowing across her face as she glanced back at The Girl. “Goodbye, Molly.”
The Girl shook her head violently, her expression pleading.
Molly let her eyelids close.
Make The Girl go away. I don’t want to dream of her anymore.
Inhaling deeply, she stepped forward. The smoky darkness closed around her. Everything went black. She made her mind go blank, just like she did when Uncle Devlin was especially angry and kept hitting and hitting. She’d had lots of practice at making her mind so numb she could feel nothing. Molly only thought of one thing. She thought of Mama.
She walked out into a day so bright it hurt her eyes.
Molly remembered the day. The carnival day. She could smell the popcorn drifting on the warm air and hear the excited shrieks of children. Molly’s heart glitched when she saw her. Mama. Holding a bunch of red and blue balloons, she stood by the Ferris wheel.
Molly was suddenly afraid. Shock needled the back of her neck and spine at seeing her again. So alive. So real.
Mama turned in her direction, her mouth opening in surprise. She waved her over. “Molly! What are you doing there? I thought you were on the ride with Sophie.”
On the carnival day, Molly’s friend Sophie had been at there with her parents, and Molly and Sophie had wanted to go on the carousel together.
With the back of her knees trembling, Molly stepped towards Mama.
Mama’s expression crumbled. “Molly—what’s wrong? You’re white as a sheet.”
“Nothing.” She managed a small smile. “I just tripped when I got off the ride.”
She closed her arms tightly around Molly. “Poor baby. Where’s Sophie?”
“Oh, around.” Molly felt something, maybe like a whole ocean, release inside her. Enclosed in Mama’s arms, Molly was whole again. Mama smelled like her apple shampoo, just like always. She was solid and warm. Not a picture. Not a memory. The tears she’d learned to hold back at Uncle Devlin’s house squeezed from her eyes. She nestled her head against her mother’s chest.
If she could stay here like this forever, she would.
“You must have really hurt yourself. And you’re so cold—where’s your cardigan?”
Molly shook her head, unable to speak.
Ahead, two little girls giggled as they jumped from the carousel—one red-haired and the other blonde.
She saw herself—the seven-year-old Molly of this world.
What were the rules of the dream? If Molly were to touch the other Molly, the other Molly would disappear.
And Molly could have Mama back.
All to herself.
She’d no longer be scared and alone.
The Girl’s words flashed in her mind. About being brave. But Molly didn’t want to be brave. She wanted the pain to stop.
But a shadow hung in Molly’s mind, and she didn't want any more shadows in her mind. She didn't want to be a shadow keeper. She no longer knew for sure she was dreaming. And if she wasn't dreaming, then the other seven-year-old Molly was real.
One of Mama’s co-workers from the supermarket ran eagerly up to Mama—a short woman with bouncy blonde curls. "Ooh, it's almost time!"
"Time for what, Jean?" asked Mama.
Jean clucked her tongue. "You look so tired—you work too much, love. Don't you remember the comet's passing through today?"
All around, people had stopped still, checking their watches and looking up. Molly remembered then—there'd been a comet on the day of the carnival. Her teacher had been excited about a comet that was bright enough to be seen in the daytime. But to Molly, when it happened, it hadn't really seemed like much of an event.
"You know," said Jean, touching Mama's elbow, "the ancients believed that comets come to tell us a message. They thought comets looked like a woman with flowing hair, sent as a symbol of sorrow by the gods. Imagine that! I wonder what she's been sent to tell us?"
Molly stayed holding onto Mama as a thin streak of light began to blaze across the wide blue sky.
She stared across the carnival grounds. While everyone was busy watching the comet, holding their balloons and stuffed toys and babies, Molly could steal through and tap the other Molly on the shoulder. That was all it would take. The Girl said so.
The comet caught the light of the sun. She wondered what message it brought.
Molly knew what to do next.
She unlinked her fingers from behind Mama’s back and let go.
About Anya Allyn
Anya Allyn writes mystery and horror. She lives near the beach on the east coast of Australia with her four boys. Her first novel is the YA Gothic suspense thriller, Dollhouse. She's currently penning an eerie mystery/ sci fi series.
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