Bronwyn
Is this how it is meant to end? A lonely death, entombed beneath the earth, without knowing whether I am a meter below the ground or a kilometre. Not knowing what happened, whether Miette or Wren survived. Everett will be alright. He always is. He told me he would look after them, but how often had he broken promises? I’ve lost count. In the end, Everett will do what’s best for Everett, and as every second goes by, I’m surer that I will never see Miette again. I led her into this, promised to protect her. I failed. That knowledge is the most painful, failure.
I pretend to watch my breath mist on the glass case. It is perfect darkness, so opening my eyes makes no difference. I know the case is glass because I can feel the smoothness of it under my fingertips. I’m sure I could break it if I needed to, but without knowing how far underground I am, I daren’t. The earth would crush me, I’m sure of it, it would fill my screaming mouth, choking any sound out of my throat, suffocating, compressing – No. I am making myself sick with fear. This has always been my greatest nightmare, being buried underground. I must stay calm. Fear makes my heart beat faster, which drives my breaths quicker. I do not move, which will also make me breathe quicker. But it is so hard. I do not know how long I have been in here. I woke up here, which means I must have been asleep in here. Simple logic. I don’t know how long I was asleep, so I cannot guess to how much precious oxygen I have left. Already, It is becoming harder and harder to breathe. I try not to cry, but the tears spill out in my eyes trickle horizontally, into my filthy hair. I could never control my emotions. That is the one thing Everett could not teach me. My anger, my grief gives me strength. My fear was my most valuable weapon alerting me of when to flee. I never thought of a situation in which I could not flee. Not I, the most fleet-footed in my school.
As I lie here and to distract myself of being sick, I think about the events that led me here. What was the turning point, I think. Maybe the battle. Maybe making the decision to leave Wren there, something I am glad of now. If Wren had fled with me, she would be lying under the ground as well. Perhaps when I met Faro, by the lake. Maybe when I decided to go with Everett, to leave Miette. But I would not have met Everett if I had not followed Miette that night. I think I need to tell my story. It seems right, as it will be the last thing that I tell. So I will start the night I followed Miette, the night my world was turned upside down. The night of the school disco.
Chapter 1
Secret
Miette
“Mimi! Mimi, you have got to come! Seriously, it’s hilarious, when Alisha – Mimi?”
I turned my face away as Wyn sat down beside me. Well, leapt down beside me would be a more accurate description. She knew my face too well, she would guess in an instant.
“Miette, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
I sniffed, and concentrated on keeping my face composed. Breathe slowly. After a few seconds, I turned to look at my best friend, Bronwyn Rivera Campbell. She was shorter than me, slender, with a small face turned upwards like a daisy facing the sun. Her eyes were very large, black and coquettish full of the curiosity that got her into so much trouble at school. Mind you, she was never actually in trouble. The teachers tried to lecture her, but her impish glittering eyes and sweet face were enough to get her out of trouble. No one could resist Bronwyn. She had a way of making everything so exhilarating and hilarious; it made people grin just to see her. No wonder she was popular.
She shook out her spiky hair, the dark, silken fronds nestling in the hollow of her slim neck. Her hair was decidedly enviable, with all the gloss of black pearls.
Her usually ice-white skin was flushed from dancing. As different from me as possible. I thought, my long wheat-coloured hair falling into my lap. My eyes were very pale blue, almost colourless.
“No, you have a something face.” Wyn stared hard at me. I looked away.
“Wyn, please. Go away.”
“Hey, Bronwyn!” someone called from the door way. “C’mon!”
“Just a minute!” Wyn yelled. She turned back to me. “What are you worried about, Mimi. You know you can tell me.” She looked up at me pleadingly, her black eyes wide with innocence. Surely I could tell Bronwyn? She had been my best friend since nursery. And I needed to tell someone. I couldn’t just – Of course I could. I couldn’t tell her because the thing that was making me miserable had no name, no way of explaining it that wouldn’t make Wyn think I was mad. And I was terrified of losing her. I was very shy, so I didn’t make friends often. I’m not an exciting person, not like Wyn. People don’t notice me.
I stood up. “I’m leaving.”
“What?” Wyn stood up too. Her little brow puckered.
“I’m leaving.”
“Your parents were going to pick you up at eleven.” She said irately. Her slim arms were crossed, her mouth set.
“I have my phone. I’ll call them. I can walk home, it’s not that far.”
“Miette, it’s the middle of November.” Wyn looked at me for a moment, then her eyes softened. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what? Leave? Why would you care?” I was being an idiot and I knew it. Worse, I was being spiteful. Lashing out at my best friend because she was more popular than me and I was scared.
Bronwyn’s face crumpled. Her black eyes seemed to fill her whole face. I turned my back on her, feeling awful, but not comforting her.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” I ran out and grabbed my coat. Wyn made a move to follow me. I pretended I didn’t see and hurried out of the door, swallowing the lump of tears in my throat. Bronwyn could catch me, I was sure of that. She was the school’s star runner. But she wouldn’t. Because she thought I didn’t want her to. And I did. I wanted to talk to her so much. But I guess secrets are like that. They come between people when they can’t be released. Secrets have destroyed families, governments, whole countries. Just open a history book. No, don’t really. But what I mean to say is that secrets are destructive. They weigh you down like anchors, taking you so deep no one wants to cut you free anymore. If secrets could devastate so much, why shouldn’t they tear my best friend and me apart?
I am a bad liar. Bronwyn is a master of the art. She could tell me that her Maths teacher had been abducted by stone angels without batting an eyelash. I would believe her too. Bronwyn would have realised that I wasn’t going home on a normal night. But I had hurt her tonight, so she wouldn’t want to remember my words. But there was a reason I hadn’t called my parents, asked them to pick me up. I didn’t want them to. I was going somewhere else, somewhere that I would never have anyone follow. I was going to my secret.
