Young Writers Society

A sea of darkness surrounded him, but a part of his mind felt so awake. Blake was sure his eyes were open, but this nothingness was very disorienting for some reason. Was he blind? His balance felt a little off too; he wasn't sure if he was sitting down, standing, or even lying down.

Weirder still, he couldn't sense a drop of pain in his body. He couldn't really feel...anything. He stared down with a sunken heart.

"What...where am I?"

Sight, sound, smells...he felt nothing at all. Just an empty loneliness in his chest. Even his own emotions felt all twisted in his own mind. He'd felt this before, though. Whenever he encountered a spirit, he always sensed this emptiness, and now he almost felt that same thing within himself right now. He wasn't dead, was he? No, that didn't feel quite right. Yet this ever-growing despair burned inside. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and drown himself in the dark void. 

......rise.

That was not Blake's own voice, not even his own inner thoughts. It sounded strangely familiar though; he knew he had heard it before. But where, and when? Blake craned his neck and looked around, feeling his own heart racing as he searched for any sign at all that something had changed. There was nothing there, however, only an endless darkness that stretched as far as the eye could see.

He focused harder, noticing something. The faintest glimmer perhaps. Could he see a horizon in the distance, amongst this sea of void?

Your injuries were not nearly as fatal as you may believe, young one.

The voice sounded loud, like it was close. It came from...behind him? Blake spun around and jumped in shock. He didn't know how he saw it, but the shadowy creature standing there was far larger than anything else he'd even encountered. The creature stood at least ten times his own height, and the outline of it was reminiscent of some dragon-like entity. But even that wasn't quite right.

He should be afraid. A talking Shadow, one as massive as this, he should absolutely feel some fear right now. But something about this dark creature was different. It gave off absolutely no malicious aura like the others. And its eyes; they were not silver, but a faded gold that still shimmering calmly in the darkness.

Just what was it?

No, wait, Blake had another question he needed answered first. "So if I'm not dead, am I dreaming?"

This is no dream, young one.

"What else could it be? Are you lying to me?"

A liar I am not. You have never been here, and you do not dream in this moment, not in the way that you would normally see it.

"That...what?"

This Shadow spoke differently than the other ones, as though it grasped far greater intelligence almost like that of a human. Or maybe even something beyond that. Why did it speak and act so differently than any other he'd ever encountered?

"Who, or what, are you?"

That is a difficult question to answer.

How vague. Blake scoffed at the simple and useless response. "Right. You were confident this isn't a dream but you won't tell me who you are? Why?"

You are not ready to understand.

Blake hated that answer, whether this creature was being honest or not.

Your heritage has already begun to emerge.

He paused at hearing such an unexpected comment. "My heritage?" Blake echoed.

You hold great power. And some others fear that power, as Puter learned the hard way.

Blake flinched. "Wait, you know him?!"

I do. And he will not be the only threat.

"He said something similar," said Blake, remembering many of the strange man's threats and remarks. "Who are they, these other people? And what do they want with me?"

They are worse than humans, make no mistake. For what they seek...it is not you, but you may serve as a means to an end in their eyes.

Something was wrong, it seemed harder to hear this Shadow, as if a strong wind had suddenly come in and distorted the air. "But why exactly?" he shouted. "You have to tell me!"

The longer time passed the stronger this strange wind felt. His mind felt fuzzier too, like focus was being sapped right out of him.

Your connection...not yet strong enough. You must be wary of your surroundings and other...be vigilant, hone your skills...

"What skills, what connection?" Blake was losing his grip on his concentration, and for a moment it was as if he couldn't even feel his body. The outline of the creature began to blur as well. He desperately tried once more.

"Tell me what all this means!"

"Next time, you will see better."

Blake froze. A completely different voice coming from elsewhere? He spun around with a jolt, and before all his senses succumbed to nothingness, he caught only the slightest glimpse of a new figure standing there.

A girl in white.

Beep, beep, beep.

The electronic rhythm quickened as Blake open his eyes. It wasn't too bright in this room. Actually, just where was he even? He turned his head, discomforted with having to move, until he caught sight of a machine hooked up next to where he lay. His eyes adjusted before long, and he realized he was in a hospital bed. There was a window to the right of the bed, and to the left a long curtain screen.

He sat up and groaned. He didn't feel any excruciating pain, but a few aches were still present. He then noticed parts of his arm had white patches, a couple with needles poking out from underneath. He looked down and saw he wore a hospital gown. Underneath the garments, he saw some bandages wrapped around his chest and abdomen. He groaned again, louder this time.

"Blake?"

He twisted his head, startled by the voice initially. But he needed only a moment before he could relax. The voice...it was coarse and barely audible, but he recognized it without a doubt.

"M-mom?"

He heard some shuffling around that came from the other side of the curtain. Many seconds later, the curtain finally pulled in towards the wall.

Alisha sat on the edge of her bed, hunched over and weary, but still able-bodied a little. Her skin didn't seem as pale as when he last saw her, a sight which filled his heart with joy. The thick tube tapped to one of her nostrils looked unpleasant. But that hardly mattered.

"Mom..." He said her name again, this time with unrestrained relief. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, grateful beyond belief, before elbowing back at his mother.

"You look better." Blake wished he could say more, but he felt so tired and exhausted to even speak. His throat felt a little rough too when he tried to swallow.

"Don't worry about me, that's not your job." Alisha strained just to stand, but there was nothing stopping her from walking to her son's bedside. The tube in her nose wasn't long enough and she could not sit next to him however. But she could extend an arm and rest her palm on Blake's cheek. "I am so-" She cleared her throat as she had difficult speaking. "-so sorry that you were so worried and scared because of me. And, I'm sorry, that...that you had to deal with so much on your own."

"Mom." Blake grabbed his mother's hand with his own. He did not take her fingers off his face; he relished the warmth they had right now. "I'm just, I'm just glad you're okay."

"You and me both." Alisha was holding back tears, and still she smiled. "When they brought you in unconscious and injured, I couldn't sleep at all. They took you away for operations and I've never been so scared in all my life."

Blake swallowed. He still found it hard to speak normally. "It was...that bad?"

"I think it was. But when you came back, they told me it wasn't serious enough to warrant surgery. You were already beginning to heal fast on your own. They said you had a strong spirit, and a powerful will to survive."

He should be happy, delighted, that he was still alive. He should celebrate for both him and his mother. Something about her words did not sit right with him, however. He knew he wasn't normal, he'd known that for years. But he was sure there was more going on here than he liked to admit.

In a low voice, Blake asked, "Do you think, maybe, that I survived because of my ability?"

Alisha's expression did not really change. Matter of fact she hardly seemed to emote anything at all for just a moment. "Why would you think that?"

"Mom, I-" How could he explain this? "A lot happened, on the roof. I should have been hospitalized way longer. Maybe even dead. But I'm still here, and healing faster than normal. It sounds crazy, but I know my ability has something to do with it."

Now Alisha's face changed. She carried this odd look, like staring off into space but knowing exactly what she was looking at. He also could tell she did not looked surprised in the slightest. Alisha removed her hand from Blake's cheek, and she looked away. "I don't know exactly how or why you would link those two things together. You have been through a lot in the last few weeks, I'm sure, and there's a lot you and I both don't know. But, I do know how smart you are, so maybe I shouldn't wonder how you tied together those threads. I guess I should say for now that you are right; you might be alive because of your ability. Well, in a way."

"In a way?"

"You belong to a very special lineage," she explained. "You have many great abilities, such as seeing the Spirits and the Shadows."

"And you can, too."

"Yes. Not in the same way though. My bloodline is different from yours."

"What exactly do you mean by bloodline...?" Blake trailed off. The question was still an important one he wanted an answer to, but blood just made him think of something else he wanted to know about.

"Mom, where's June?" he suddenly demanded, staring right at her. "Is she okay?"

Alisha stared back at him with the blankest expression. A few seconds later she relaxed and shook her head. "Honey, I'm sorry. I don't know where she is. Is she in the hospital too?"

Blake gave her a half-hearted nod, but simultaneously clenched one of his fists. Fear seeped into his heart. Is she in some kind of recovery? I don't know, but we need to get her in a room. Blake felt his chest beginning to pound. How long had he himself been unconscious? What about the rest of the hospital? What if her condition had worsened while he lay still in the hospital bed?

Was he asleep for so long he couldn't be there for June when she needed him most?

Something tight clasped onto his hand. Blaze froze even after realizing his mother's thin yet soft fingers clutched his own. The small bags under her eyes did not hide the gentle understanding their brown depths held. "I know you're worried. I am too. But I am not afraid. That young lady has a very strong spirit, and I know you know that too.

"And whatever else worries you about the Shadows, or th-the other thing we'll talk about soon...you have to trust me when I say that it'll be okay. Can you do that? Will you trust me when I say that it will all be okay?"

She had so much confidence in her voice; that and her words did sooth his tension a little. Some calmness washed over his chest, and he took in a deep breath of air. "Yeah, I think I can do that. Sorry, Mom."

With that, a smile on Alisha's face appeared and grew. Both of them squeezed their grip on the other's hand. "You don't have to apologize."

"Miss Douglas!"

Blake's chin jerked upright while Alisha turned around. A woman stood at the doorway of the hospital room, staring at the both of them with wide eyes. She was clearly some kind of nurse or attendant given her garbs.

She walked towards Alisha's bed. "Miss Douglas, you shouldn't be out of bed right now," she reprimanded. She helped Alisha back onto her bed. "We only just removed those tubes earlier this afternoon and I don't want you overexerting yourself."

As the nurse pulled the blankets over Alisha's legs, Blake's mother actually scoffed at the attendants insistence. "My son was waking up and I wanted a moment of peace with him."

Blake quietly chuckled. He so rarely heard his mother speak with such annoyance. Even the nurse looked a little taken aback by the stronger response.

"If you must put those tubes back in because I walked a few feet, the so be it."

"I-I understand, ma'am." The nurse cleared her throat. "We're only keeping an eye on you both while you are still in our care."

Her attention then shifted to Blake and she reached his bedside in moments. She paused, as if lost in thought, and Blake noticed the bags under her eyes, heavier than his mother's. Then the nurse recollected herself and checked the machine next to his bed, and wrote some things on a clipboard she left on Alisha's bed earlier.

She then checked Blake's eyes woth a flashlight she pulled from one of her pockets. "Any discomfort at all? Dizziness, nausea?" she asked while strobing the light in his eyes a little.

"No, not really. My shoulder aches a lot, so does my stomach."

"Amything besides pains or aches for your injuries?"

"No."

"Well, um...if you do have any unusual reactions or sensations, just use the button on the bed to call a nurse over." With that she turned to leave, almost forgetting her clipboard. "Sorry to leave so soon. There are a lot of other patients on this floor I have to che-"

"Wait!"

He stopped the nurse before she could get out of earshot. She eyed him with a curiosity that quickly turned to concern. Blake knew he had to be quick.

"June, June Cordon, do you know her?" he asked rapidly. "She's about my age. I-I wanted to know if maybe she was on this floor, or if you know if she's doing alright?"

The nurse stared at him a few more seconds so he added, "Please, she's my best friend. I have to know if she's okay or not."

"June..."

The way the nurse trailed off left Blake's heart racing. He expected the next words out of her words to echo his worst nightmare.

"Oh, the miracle child!"

What'd she just say? Blake had a mental double take, and he exchanged confused glances with his mother. "What?" was all he could say.

The nurse looked over her clipboard, initially not responding. But then she spoke. "Of course, Blake Douglas. That makes more sense now."

Confused, Blake replied, "It does?"

"Young Miss June was very unstable for some of her stay here. But after those tremors two days ago, we found her in the hallways, and she had miraculously stabilized. We weren't sure how, but somehow she developed antibodies to whatever contagion had spread throughout town.

"She woke up some hours later. And she was asking for someone named Blake."

"Wait, so she's okay? And awake? Can I see her?!"

"W-well, you are still recovering from your injuries and you probably should remain in bed-"

"Please," he begged before she could finish her sentence. "I'll take all the precautions, wait at her bedside as long as it takes. But I have to see her. I want to be there for her."

"I-I don't..."

Blake did not want to wait. As much as his body ached and his wounds still bothered him, he pulled off the bed sheets and swung his legs around, prepping to stand.

"Wait, wait!" The nurse took a few steps forward and held out her hands. Her voice was raised initially, but it lowered after her pause. "Alright, I will see what I can do to let you visit her. But please, stay in bed for now. We don't want any of your stitches ripping and you could still be dehydrated and undernourished."

He wanted nothing more than to ignore her words and leave the room anyways. The worry and the sincerity of her voice, however, made him remain seated for now. The nurse held up open palms for a few seconds longer, until she was certain Blake would not move, and then she left the room. Blake merely sat on the bed, waiting in tense silence.