1. Where Shadows Fall

1

“Turn your face to the sun and shadows fall behind you.”

I heard the screams and startled gasps before I felt a foreign dread surge through my veins and settle into my body. Her sorrowful wails echoed through the room, pulling me out of my dreamless sleep and into the cruel reality that I was forced to face since that day six months ago. Slowly, I kicked back the covers of my bed and stumbled toward my mother in the thick darkness that seemed to swallow me whole. What or by whom this reoccurring nightmare was caused by I wasn’t sure. When it would end was another question I couldn’t answer. Mom lay in her bed across the room, thrashing and moaning, whimpering and screaming as her hands flew up to her face to protect herself against the attacker in her subconscious mind.

“Mom,” I whispered as I scooped up her tiny frame in my arms and shook her gently. “Mom, please wake up.”

It was times like these when I wished with every fiber of my being that Dad were still alive to help me handle this situation. I wasn’t sure how, but the man always knew how to resolve every problem that came his way. Well, every problem except the one that caused his death. I quickly pushed the thoughts to the back corner of my mind. Remembering what happened and getting all teary-eyed over it wasn’t going to help anybody. Not me and definitely not my mother. Mom let out another loud scream and buried her face into the front of my nightshirt.

“Drake,” she moaned through a jag of agonized sobs. “Oh God, Drake. No, no, no, no.”

I let out a small, shaky breath and blinked back my tears. Now is not the time to cry. I couldn’t afford to burst into tears now- not right now. Someone had to be the strong one in this family. I pulled mom up into a sitting position and held her even tighter in my arms.

“Mom, it’s over now. You can wake up now. Please just wake up.” I blinked back another wave of fresh tears as I rocked us back and forth.

The screams and sobs quieted down to soft whimpers and sniffles. I let out a slow, deep breath and closed my eyes. Now is not the time to cry. Mom needed me right now. Someone had to be the strong one and hold this family together. Or what was left of it. Dad wouldn’t want us to sit around crying over his death. Now is not the time to cry. I sighed with relief and kissed my mother’s clammy forehead. I could see that she was starting to calm down and return in consciousness in the pale lighting of the moon the peaked in through our bedroom window from behind the dark clouds that rolled across the night sky: her frenzied breathing had slowed and her lower lip stopped trembling as mom buried her face in my chest again and sobbed. I kissed her forehead again and ran my fingers through her damp curls.

“I’m sorry,” mom croaked in a hoarse, raspy whisper. I shook my head at her and smiled.

“There’s no need to be sorry.” And there wasn’t. We were all still not over it that dreadful turn of events.Mom still had her nightmares and was forced to take anti-depressants in order to help her get out of bed and get to work on time instead of staying under the bed covers with a picture of Dad cradled against her chest, left to bawl her eyes out like I’d seen her do some many times. Antonella almost never came out of her room except when I asked her to so she could eat, use the restroom, and get to school so she could manage to finish her senior year of high school. 

After what seemed like an eternity, her eyes fluttered open, revealing a glint of blue-gray in between the fringe of thick, wet lashes. “I had that dream again,” Mom whispered and I rubbed her arm up and down with my hand.

“I know.” I closed my eyes. We sat there for several minutes, listening to the sound of our breathing fill the room, each lost in the train of disjointed thoughts that flowed through our heads. I remembered the accident as if it were yesterday: the blazing hot fire, the scarlet blood that stained the leather seats of dad’s prized Volvo, the twisted metal and glass fragments that showered over us, the smell of smoke, and the faint shriek of sirens in the distance. What or who had caused the accident was a question I still couldn’t answer. But it taught me a good lesson. Life could be ripped away from you in the blink of an eye and sometimes good people had bad things happen to them. I shivered and buried my face deep into my mom’s hair.

The horrid images wrapped themselves around me, they suffocated me, as if I were suddenly back at the scene choking on the dense clouds of smoke, until a small voice somewhere in my mind told me that it wasn’t really happening. That it was all in my head and that it was all just a dream. But I knew better. Had it been a dream then Dad would be sitting here right next to me with mom in his arms, comforting her and rocking her back and forth like he use to do to us when my sister and I had nightmares. If only we never decided to go out for Family Night that evening. Things would still be normal with this family.

Mom wouldn’t have to go see a therapist every Thursday. Antonia wouldn’t lock herself in her room muttering incoherently to herself all the while flunking school and starving herself. I wouldn’t have to share a room with my distraught mother to calm her down every time memories from the past came back to haunt her in her dreams. We would still be a happy family and not the living shells and broken remains of one.

“I’m okay now,” mom whispered and wiggled out of my arms. “You go and sleep.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, even though I already knew what she was going to say. “I don’t need to sleep—” 

“Go to sleep, Arriella,” mom interjected as she slid the bed covers over herself and closed her eyes. “You and Antonella have school in the morning and I won’t let you guys miss it. Understood?”

I nodded slowly and retreated to my bed by the window. I was used to this happening every night and accepted that this was my new life now. It was a cycle: mom would have nightmares, I would get up and comfort her while my depressed twin sister stayed in her room and pretended not to hear anything, mom would come back to her senses and tell me to go to bed, and then the whole process would start all over again the next night. I slipped under the sheets and closed my eyes though I was not sleepy.

Was it wrong of me to wish that I could be somewhere else when mom got like this? I knew she and Antonella both needed me and that I had to be the strong one, but sometimes I felt trapped somehow, as if I were stuck in a cage with the same four walls and the same two faces that I was forced to see everyday in a life where all I did was repeat the same routine over and over again. Was it wrong for me to want to leave and start over again in a different place? With different people? I pondered an answer to this as sleep washed over me and I slipped into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

I’d always been one to dread Mondays and this Monday morning in particular. It was pouring outside with a cluster of black clouds rolling over a gray, gloomy sky and heavy sheets of rain falling from it, pelting my bedroom window with cold raindrops like machine gun bullets. Mondays to me signified a long, slow week ahead of me. One that I wasn’t happy having to spend in a crowded high school with jabbering, knuckle-headed students and stern, coffee-addicted teachers. I sighed then lazily swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, trying to shake off the grogginess of last night’s sleep.

One thing I hated about rainy days was that they always reminded me of death. The way the rain just fell from the sky made me feel as though the heavens were crying for another life lost here on this earth. I moved to the door slowly, placing one dainty foot in front of the other, careful not to wake my sleeping mother. It was time to get Antonella really for school and I wasn’t looking forward to doing so since she didn’t exactly make it an easy task for me either. I sighed and stepped outside into the empty hallway of our apartment.

Even after living here for half a year, I still felt like a stranger, as if I were a guest in someone else’s home.

I tiptoed down the hall and knocked on Antonella’s door. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She hadn’t made a sound, not that I was expecting one. I sighed and pushed the door open in time to see her head pop out from under the sheets and her glare fixated on me. Here we go again. First problem of the day: Getting Antonella really for school. I closed the door behind me and approached her cautiously, as if expecting her to lunge at me. She continued to glare at me, her face twisted in a deep expression of sadness and anger for having interrupted her sleep.

“Get out,” she growled and narrowed her eyes at me.

“We have school today,” I replied sternly, trying hard to keep my building frustration out of my voice. “Get up and get ready.”

“No.” She dove back under the sheets with a irritated huff.

“Antonella, get up.” I marched over to the side of her bed and jerked the covers to the ground. “We have school today so we have to get ready—”

“I said no!” she cried and lunged at me. I ducked out of the way and managed to grab one of her anorexic arms to pin behind her back. I jumped up on top of her and pressed my knee into her back as I pulled her arm up higher and higher, ignoring her infuriated protests and threats. If I had to get up every single morning just to go spend eight hours of my day in a building full of stupid people that I didn’t like then so did she. I was getting tired of babysitting her all the time.

“Let go of me!” she screamed and struggled underneath me. I tightened my grip on her arm and leaned forward so my mouth hovered just by her ear. “You’re going to get up and get ready for school, you understand? I’m not going to say it again. So either you get ready the easy way and do it yourself or I can physically do it myself and I guarantee you that you’re not going to like my methods, Antonella.”

Her thrashing and struggling suddenly ceased and Antonella hung her head in defeat. I rolled off of her and marched to the door. “You have half an hour.”

It wasn’t the gloomy weather that made the car ride to school awkward but rather Antonella herself. I truly missed the outgoing, motor mouth person my sister had been half a year ago. She couldn’t stand awkward silences so she would always try to start up a conversation about anything. But that person was gone and had been replaced with this dark, angry being that seemed to like glaring at me every chance that she got.

“What?” I said through gritted teeth. I knew that I should have more patience with my sister, but sometimes she liked to make things more than difficult.

“Take me home.” Antonella narrowed her eyes at me again.

“I already told you back home that you’re going to school. Even if that means having to be dragged out the door and down the stairs by your hair,” I hissed.

“But I don’t—”

“Well I don’t care what you want!” I yelled and stomped on the breaks, making the car screech to a sudden halt in the middle of the slippery road.

“You’re not the only one that misses Dad, you know,” I sneered and returned her icy glare. “I miss him too so stop your stupid whining and shut up already!”

I hit the gas petal and sped the rest of the way toward the school. Antonella rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the scenery that rushed past her window in a blur of grays, greens, and browns. There were times when I missed being the one who had to be dragged out of bed and forced to prepare myself to face the day:

Dad would sit at the breakfast table with another one of his philosophy books held up to his face and mom would be at the stove making breakfast while humming some song in that high, off-key voice of hers. Antonella would enter the kitchen like she always did; head held up high, shoulders back, hips swinging from side to side, and a broad smile on her face after just having threatened to beat me with a shoe if I made her late.

I would come in second with my shoulders slumped forward, critical scowl etched onto my face, and grumbling about how I hated school and wished that I would’ve already graduated under by breath.
“Be careful what you wish for,” Dad would warn me and mom would chime in agreement. “Because it's not a piece of cake like you think.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I would respond with an irritated roll of my eyes.

Antonella would take her place on my left and automatically paw through the contents of her bag for her make up kit.

“Has anyone seen my eyeliner?” she would ask. “It’s not in here.”

“Up your ass like everyone else’s heads are,” I would reply and shove a forkful of syrup-dripping pancakes into my mouth.

Mom would glare at me from across the room and Dad regarded me with a stern ogle. “Watch your mouth,” he would warn in the deep, dark tone. 

“Ha-ha,” Antonella would say and roll her eyes. “Don’t be mad because I’m the twin everyone can actually stand.”

“Only because you don’t have enough personality to be your own person,” I would retort and shove another forkful of breakfast into my mouth.

“Girls,” mom would admonish and we would both glare at each other.

“It’s not my fault that she’s always such a Debby Downer, Mom,” Antonella would insist and toss her long, jet black hair over her shoulder.

“It’s not my fault that she’s always a snobby, stuck-up bitch,” I would snap, earning myself a dirty look from both of my parents.

“Knock it off Arriella,” Dad would say and I would reluctantly nodded.

“Time to go you guys,” Mom would call after we finished our breakfast and kissed dad goodbyes.
“Get out of my way, loser,” Antonella would say.

“Why don’t you get out of my way?” I would reply and elbow past her to the car.

And then we’d be off to school, bickering back and forth over how much we annoyed each other as we went...

I smiled a little at the memory. Now I missed those days even though I couldn’t stand them back then. Wasn’t that how it worked? It was like the saying said anyway. You never knew what you had until it was gone. You never knew how good you had it until it was taken away from you. I made a right and pulled into the parking lot of our school and cut the engine.

“We meet back here after school, got it?” I eyed my sister sternly as she unfastened her seat belt and made a grab for her things.

“Antonella. Here. After School. Understood?” I gritted my teeth when she didn’t reply. Why did things always have to be so hard with her?

“Antonella—”

“Yes! I heard you the first time!” she snapped and disappeared out the door toward the school, leaving me behind to stare after her.

“Just another walk through hell.” I stepped out of our SUV and followed after her to school. This was the last place I wanted to be right now. I didn't want to sit in an overcrowded classrooms with people that had the right to continue life as if it was nothing more then a game. With people that know nothing of our loss or pain or death. Just gullible idiots that knew nothing at all really. But it was senior year and the last time I've have to stay here and look at their clueless faces. So what could I do except wait another six months?

With an audible huff, I hugged my school supplies against my chest and tucked my chin inside the collar of my turtleneck sweater in a failed attempt of protection against the pouring rain. I instantly regretted not bringing a jacket. The rain seemed to bite into my skin through my clothing as I stumbled blindly through the labyrinth of vehicles to the front doors. I quickened my pace as the rain thickened and drenched me down to the bone. It was the ends of November for God's sake and this is what we get? An endless cycle of stupid rain?

I clenched my teeth together as I hurried by, ducking my head against the harsh, cold winds. I wiped the rain water from my eyes and squinted into the distance. Man, what I wouldn't give to be to be wrapped in a blanket with a steaming mug of hot chocolate right now—

Wait. What was that? I stopped short and lifted my gaze towards the roof of the school. I mopped at my face with the sleeve of my drenched sweater. Had I just seen something or was it my imagination?

“Hello?” I called out as I took a few more steps forward. “Is anybody out here?”

I glanced around the vacant parking lot. There was no one here. I sighed and ran-walked the rest of the way towards the doors. If there really was something out there, then I was in no mood to go an confront it. I could have sworn that I'd seen something though. Like a shadow or figure move on the roof. Then again, it was raining buckets right now and I wasn't exactly at my best in the mornings. I burst through the front doors of the school with a sigh of relief. My shoes squeaked noisily as I whirled around to glance once more at the parking lot.

And then I saw it. It move swiftly, like a flicker of a candle, as it quickly maneuvered itself through the rows of student vehicles without much difficultly. Its long limbs seemed to stretched effortlessly as it hopped from car to car, soundlessly like a breath of air, becoming nothing but a blurred smudge of charcoal against its colorless surroundings. I leaned forward and pressed my face against the watery glass, squinting my eyes again for a better view. What the hell was that thing? As if it sensed my presence, the dark shape suddenly stopped in its tracks as it stood atop of a rusted, dark green truck. My breath hitched in my throat. Did it know I was here? Could it seem me?

Slowly, it jumped back down to the ground and turned its head in my direction.

I gasped and ducked to the ground, suddenly trembling all over like a leaf in the wind. What the hell was that thing and how did it know that I was watching it? My mind whirled and my chest tightened with a surge of dread. Was it a person? It looked like one. But what kind of person jumped from car to car without making a sound or a dent in the metal? And what kind of person moved so quickly and silently?

I suddenly felt sick and tired. I had to get to class. I didn't belong out here staring at moving shadows or whatever it was. I let out a long, shaky breath before I slowly rose to my feet on quivering legs. My mind spun as a wave of question crashed against the walls of my head. Maybe I didn't see anything. Yes. I didn't see anything. It was all in my mind. I hadn't slept well or eaten anything this morning and my mind was now playing these stupid tricks on me. After all, what kind of shadows moved around without people attached to them? I turned and slowly made my way down the hallway.

“Arriella...” The voice came from outside the doors.

Soft and airy like a cool autumn breeze. Somehow, it sounded so clear against the clapping thunder and heavy rain outside. I froze but didn't turn around. It's all in my head, it's all in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and began walking again, hugging my dripping schoolbooks to my chest with all my might. A surge of hot adrenaline spate through my body and the hairs at the back of my neck stood on end. Please God. Tell me I'm dreaming. Slowly, yet reluctantly, I turned around and saw its featureless face plastered against the glass of the school's doors. It had no eyes, nose, or mouth, but somehow I could feel it staring at me. Studying me and committing my memory into its memory.

I backed away as a loud, blood-chilling scream tore itself out of my throat and everything went black.