Page 125 of Cerulean Truth
“Mommy?” I asked softly.
“You’re no daughter of mine,” my mom answered in such an icy tone, my entire body shivered.
“Mommy please,” I pleaded, but no one responded.
“Daddy!” I cried out, but no one responded.
“You’re an abomination,” I heard, a voice I recognized but couldn’t place.
“Cut her throat, we have what we came for.”
No. No. No. NO!
I woke up trembling, shivering with cold sweat. It took me a few moments to orientate where I was. As I turned to the side and noticed James fast asleep on the bed across the room, reality poured in.
Relieved I hadn’t woken him up, I softly slid out of the bed, making my way to the bathroom.
While washing my face with cold water, the emotions of the night and the dreams it had brought forth, were starting to register.
As I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, I found myself thinking about the first time I hadn’t been able to recognize the person staring back. When I had just finished washing off all the blood. James had been in the next room back then too. Who was I?
My hand started trembling and my breathing started to falter.
Tears were brimming in my eyes and I quickly left the bathroom, running softly to the living room, feeling a huge cry come on. Before my time in Cyclos I almost never cried, thought it was weak. But since my arrival, I had been feeling the need. Since my abduction, that need had intensified. And the night of the first real truce between James and myself, that need became unbearable.
As I sat down on the couch, the first sob came on quickly.
The second sob was louder than I’d expected and I clutched my mouth to keep me from making too much noise. The remnants of the dream came crashing into me and I barely held it together.
Still attempting to hold back the tears, as I sat there on James’s couch, I looked at the kitchen in front of me, trying to focus on the wonderful evening I had had, eating that amazing steak.
The more I tried to contain it, the more control I seemed to lose over it. And so I hid my face in my hands, crying for the first time since accepting my fate as a maga.
I cried and cried, lost in my emotions. I cried for the trauma the Radicals had caused me, I cried for the fears they’d induced, I cried for the panic in my dreams and I cried for the powerlessness I felt.
Then, I cried for all the loneliness, for all the failing, and for feeling like a fish out of the water, at every turn.
Then I cried for missing my parents, my life and my former future. I cried for the girl I used to be and for the girl I had to be.
I cried, until I couldn’t cry anymore.
THIRTY-TWO
JAMES
I woke up in the middle of the night. We had gone to bed around three in the morning, so it wasn’t much later—maybe four, four thirty. Why had I woken up?
Still sleep-dazed, I took out my EarPods. The alarm I had installed hadn’t gone off, so there hadn’t been a breach of my loft, nor the bedroom. But as I looked over to the bed, I nearly had a heart attack when I found it empty.
I jumped to my feet so fast I almost lost my balance and hurried to the door but halted abruptly when I heard it. Sobbing. It was muffled but unmistakable.
Softly opening the door, I noticed Emma sitting on the couch, her back turned to me.
I closed my eyes, drowning out the pain I felt for her, when I realized she wasn’t just sobbing but full-on crying. I swallowed, realizing this was the first time she had cried since her arrival at Cyclos.
My insides warmed, knowing she felt safe enough in my home to allow herself to be that vulnerable. But at the same time, my murderous instincts surged, wanting to eradicate every single person who had contributed to her current state—starting with the remaining Radicals I still had in custody, who wouldbe gone from this earth by tomorrow. I almost left her there to do just that. The only reason stopping me was sobbing on my couch.
I wanted to go over there, offer her some comfort, but I had no words. What would I say? Sorry you were abducted and tapped like a cheap pint of beer? Sorry I couldn’t protect you from it?
