Shadow Souls

Chapter Fourteen

I think back to the night of the accident. After the car went off the bridge and down towards the river. After thinking about how Tyler and I were both going to die.

I wake up on the riverbank alone. I sit up slowly, feeling dizzy, and disoriented, and wait for my eyes to focus on my surroundings. The first thing I see in front of me is the top half of Tyler's vintage, black mustang. The car he spent the past two years of his life restoring. And it was in the river. It seemed to be already resting on the bottom, the water level thankfully low enough that it hadn't completely submerged it. I scream Tyler's name, hoping that he is somewhere safely on the bank with me, but there is no response, and I don't see him anywhere. Jumping up, I swim out to the car, as fast as my arms will take me, every inch of space between me and my destination feeling like a mile. When I finally get there and peer through the driver's side window I can see Ty is inside, and I start to bang on the glass, yelling his name. Grabbing the handle, I try to yank the car door open, but I can't seem to manage it. The water pressure is too strong, and it is causing a suction that I can't break. I hit the glass harder thinking that If I can just wake him up, then he can help me get the door open and everything will be alright. But he doesn't stir. He is unconscious with his head lying over the steering wheel. And no matter how loud I am he won't wake up. I stop trying to get inside the car and really focus on his face for the first time and now I can see that his eyes are wide open. Lifeless. Tyler was already gone.

I stumble backwards and let out a gut-clenching scream, releasing a swift force of air straight from my mouth that slams directly into the car, blowing out the glass on all the windows. Without pausing to understand what had just happened, I quickly move to free Tyler from the vehicle, completely unconcerned with the jagged shards of glass digging into my skin as I reached through the opening. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, I managed to drag him out of the car, and back to the bank despite his size. Then, knowing it was already too late for anything else, I worked quickly to try and save him the only way I thought I could.

I close my eyes and focus every ounce of energy I have left on bringing Tyler back to life. As I work time seems to move so slowly that it feels like hours have passed, even though I know it was probably only minutes, when I can hear sirens in the distance. Someone must have heard the crash and called nine-one-one.

As an ambulance arrives and the paramedics make their way down the hill to where we are, the realization hits that I won't be able to save my best friend.

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"Alice, what's going on in there?" Paige taps the side of my head bringing me back to the present.

"Oh sorry. I was just thinking about how crazy all of this is," I shrug, trying my best to seem casual.

I glance up at the bridge in front of me, still thinking about that dreadful night, when I spot movement. It's Tyler. He is sitting with one of the guard rails at his stomach, and his legs dangling over the side. I feel my eyes start to water at the sight of him up there alone.

"So," Paige continues, completely unaware of the emotional rollercoaster going on inside my head, "When did you realize you could control the wind?"

Her question brings a happier memory to the front of my mind this time. One involving a little blonde-haired boy, and my first day of Pre-K.

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I had just realized that I could make small objects move. (I wasn't yet aware it was the air I was actually controlling). I was trying to show a group of kids on the playground how I could make the leaves fly, but they called me a liar and said I must be faking it somehow. I tried to argue that I was really telling the truth, but that's when stupid Billy Miller opened his big mouth and decided that if I wasn't a big fat liar and I really could move things, then I must be some kind of a freak. I was then subjected to a few dozen rounds of a bunch of four-year-olds chanting,
"Alice is a freak girl." (Real creative guys), until the teacher blew the whistle, signaling the end of recess.