everything, so that you can wake up believing this has always been your life.”
“Why would you do that?” I bite at my thumbnail. “And what do you mean by unique?” I ask, wondering if he knows all my secrets.
“Unique in the sense that the things you’re going to remember are going to be painful,” he says. “But it’s your choice. Either I can inject the purple—the radier into you and you can go on your way, thinking this is how it’s always been, or I can give you the clear—the minte and we can gradually start unwinding what’s tangled up inside your head.”
I notice the fact that the names’ of the medicines are spoken in the language of the Highers. “I won’t remember everything all at once?”
He shakes his head. “It’s a slow process, especially if your memories are painful. But like I said, you can choose to forget, if you want.”
“Were you a unique case?” I ask and he nods. “And what did you choose?”
He raises his missing hand. “I chose to remember.”
It’s like I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life and I know what I have to do, without even thinking about it. I tap the clear vial with my finger. “I want to remember.”
He presses his lips together and with a grave expression, nods. “Okay, then.” He places the purple vial back in the drawer, takes out a syringe, and stabs it into the vial. “Brace yourself, Kayla” he says and then inserts the needle into my arm.
My hands clutch onto the armrest. I suck in a breath of air as the clear medicine pumps through my veins. I wait for my memory, but I can only see red.
Blood.
Blood everywhere.
I can’t see through the blood.
I scream, but is it for real? Or in my head?
Pain. Pain surrounds me. My skin peels away as I claw at my own flesh.
Someone screams murder, not me, but a small child. I rock back and forth, grabbing at my hair. Lights flicker on and off, the walls rattle—there’s so much blood.
“Make it stop!” I cry.
Flashes of light, needles piercing. I can’t breathe. I don’t know who I am. Or where I am.
Then I see it: the red door. Watchers guard it. But I’m inside, not out—I’m trapped.
Help, I want to scream, but my lips are sewn together. I raise my hands, blood covering them. Not my blood. Someone else’s.
A river of blood pours down from the ceiling and I drown in it.
I’m screaming. My eyes are open, my gaze darting around the room. Cedrix. Aiden. They are both restraining me. I knock them to their backs and am on my feet before either of them can figure out what happened.
“What did you do to me?” I breath loud, a breath that is not my own—a fearful breath.
Cedrix holds up his hand. “Easy, Kayla, we’re not going to hurt you.”
I back for the door, shaking my head. “What was that?”
“Kayla.” Cedrix stands. “You need to calm down. I warned you that what you saw might not be pretty.”
“Might not be pretty.” I tug at my hair, wanting to forget whatever it was I saw.
“Kayla.” It’s Aiden who speaks, soft and soothing. “Just give me your hand. It’s all going to be okay. No one here is going to hurt you.”
I let go of my hair, realizing how bad I’m trembling. I stare at his hand for a moment, before taking it and the softness of his pulse soothes me.
He lets out a breath, flicking a glance at Cedrix. “I’m going to take her to get something to drink,” he tells him. “See if I can get her to calm.”
Cedrix nods, but points at my arms. “Clean her up first. We don’t want anyone else to know what’s going on.”
I turn my free arm over, my jaw dropping at the blood trailing my arm. “What happened to me?”
“You did it to yourself.” Aiden leads me to the cupboard.
Cedrix stands. “Get her a drink and then come back,” he says. “I need to talk to Dominic, but I want to see her again when she’s calm down.”
Aiden nods and then Cedrix leaves, closing the door behind him.
“I’m not
Jessie Keane
Michael Gurnow
Sonya Bates
Evelyn Harper
Kristen Flowers
Chris A. Jackson
Ellery Queen
Jae
Leslie North
Charles Tang, Gertrude Chandler Warner