Shadowed (Unbound, Book 2)

Chapter Eleven

I slammed my hand against the bars. A scream tore from my lungs and I pulled back to find blood on my palms. The vertical poles in front of me were too sharp. Purple, blue and green swirled behind me and to the sides. Behind the bars, there was nothing. A black void. I reached out and wrapped both hands around the bars, gritting my teeth as the sharp edges dug in as though magically infused to trap whatever came near.

It was my only escape.

The pain ripped through me, too great to even scream, and I tried to pull away but couldn't. Blood ran down my arms as I shook the metal. My hands, numb, felt glued. Like wax dripping from a candle into my palm, it froze my movement with its heat as it buried its edges into my flesh.

"No!" I finally screamed and began to pull my hand back. I tried to disconnect myself from the physical pain as I felt my skin stick to the bars, separating from my palms. "Ahh!"

It was too much.

My vision became faded, like grains of sand had lodged into the corners of my eyes, filling up my sight from the outside in.

The blackness became a pinprick in front of me.

A scream burst from me and I blinked.

The image vanished completely but the terror remained.

Gasping, with my arms and legs thrashing in the covers, I opened my eyes. My breath was heavy, my heartbeat thumping, my body slick with a sheen of sweat that made the covers stick to my skin. I pushed myself to sit up and looked around, defensive, as though waiting to be attacked.

The was empty. The heat of oppression lifted and the air-conditioned breeze cooled my skin. My heart slowed. It was just a dream. A very bad, very crazy but harmless, dream.

I sighed and looked down at the covers, rubbing my hand down my face before flicking my hair out of the way. A small laugh found its way out and I shook my head, derisive and self-mocking. A dream journal? Right. Dr. Stanzo was going to have fun interpreting this for me. It was almost too crazy to document, but then, I couldn't decrypt it on my own. I reached under my pillow for the book.

Onyx jumped up.

I screamed.

She barked, panting heavy with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. I laughed, one hand pulling the book from under the pillow as the other clutched my chest, and I gasped for breath. Freak show. I should be banned from all forms of social interaction or locked behind the bars in my dream.

But, despite my hesitation, I grabbed a pen and began my first entry. It was weird. How do you find the words to convey to someone—a shrink, no less—something that made no sense? One word would suffice: crazy. It was a short entry, just enough to capture the surrealism without sounding like it had felt real. I recorded just the facts, leaving out everything that it had made me feel.

As soon as I finished, the book was back in its hiding place under the pillow. Sleep was a joke at this point. It was already five and the alarm was set for six. I'd been asleep since Devland's visit and only had a vague recollection of crawling under the covers around midnight. When Onyx moved to the floor was a mystery.

A grin spread as the hold the dream's hold lessened.

Today I was going back to school. Grimas High. I hoped it wasn't as dreary as it sounded. It was reassuring to know that nothing could be worse than being locked in my room like a caged animal who couldn't be trusted. But then, how was it going to feel sharing Calin's attention? He was the kind of guy who couldn't help but be popular, I was sure.

His ex-girlfriend wasn't something to look forward to, I was sure, but Maible was. Going to school meant seeing more of her. Plus, who knew? Maybe just being there would trigger my memories—or cause another slide. I was going for optimism, though. Nobody was going to ruin my chance to get out of my prison, if only for a few hours a day.