Ashes Of Angeline

Part VIII

“That's not entirely true.” You said, rubbing your eyes wearily. The gesture aged you, the weight of leading the group heavy on your shoulders. You were probably only eighteen or nineteen, a year or two older than myself. It struck me how strange it was that you could have been preparing for graduation only months ago.

“Right, Logan and I brought our bags.” Dem recalled, sitting up more in her seat at the good news.

Despite Kari's apparent bitter personality, she seemed to find comfort in knowing they weren't completely doomed after all. “Well it'll still take forever.” Yet there wasn't as much malice in her voice as she brushed a strand of golden hair away from her face.

Somewhere during the conversation, the gentle raindrops grew in size and quickened their pace. They drummed against the roof and windows, too fast for Noah to connect them together. The streams of water down the window reminded me of when I was younger, and would wait inside the car as my mother washed it. I used to press my hands against the cold glass, laughing as she sprayed the water at the widow, obscuring my view. My heart began to ache, something vicious stirring inside my chest.

I closed my eyes, escaping the sight of the rain running down the windows. I smothered the emotions gnawing at me. I wanted to shut them off, flip a switch and make them go away, but they wouldn't. Even after I tried to shove them aside, they lingered like a cold hand on the back of my neck.

“We'll rest for a bit, and hopefully the rain will stop soon. Dem, you still have that phone you found right?” I briefly wondered what good a phone would do, for it surely wouldn't still make calls. Then again, the phones that had come out before the Beginning had some cool features.

“Yeah, want me to set an alarm?” She asked, already turning the small device on. I recognized it immediately, remembering hours of texting Emmet, playing games, and most importantly I remembered the sound of my uncle Jame's voice coming through the small speaker.

My body froze at the memory, his reassuring voice echoing in my mind.

“Hold on Angel, I'll be right over.”

He lived down the street, a five minute walk.

“Go to the basement, lock the door if it makes you feel safer, but slide the key under.”

The basement.

It felt as though I had bathed in ice, my entire body racked with a cold, unwavering pain. The small cellphone, black with a dinosaur sticker and shiny blue nail polish stain, sat in Dem's open hand. Her finger was poised over the touch screen, waiting to set an alarm. My own alarm for school was still on the list, turned off but still present.

Seeing something I carried with me everyday in a strangers hand was unusual. I wanted to reach out and grab it from her, text someone and ask if they were alive. It had a zero percent chance of happening, but a girl could dream.

Dem set the alarm and turned off the phones screen with a click of a button. A blanket of silence had fallen over the passengers, nothing but the pouring rain and distant rumble of thunder filling the space. I watched in the mirror as you and Dem closed your eyes, leaning back in your seats in hopes of catching some sleep. Noah curled up in his own seat, uncaring of Dem's seat being reclined near his dangling legs. His eyes fluttered shut as well, until only Kari was left staring out her window.

I sat next to Emmet, comforted by the increasing pulling sensation in my gut telling me he was alive and getting stronger. It was difficult resisting brushing aside the strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, but the memory of the dream kept me at bay.

Luckily for him, the rain and wind were both so strong that the seemingly continuous stream of water came down at an angle, hitting the windows opposite to the broken one by his feet. Only a bit of water managed to enter the vehicle, rather the full force of the downpour.

Still, the cold was getting to Emmet as he shivered in his sleep. It was strange considering he was sweating so bad only moments ago.

I glanced at Kari's reflection in her window, her image distorted by the heavy rain. Two icy blue orbs were there one minute, the next she had closed her eyes. As she fell asleep I listened to the rhythmic beating of the rain against the roof of the van. I felt the thunder rattle my bones as it drew nearer, and I saw flashes of lightning break through the clouds. I was remembering my father telling me one of the safest places to be when lightening is involved is in your car, when I slipped away into unconsciousness. My head lulled aside, falling against Emmet's limp arm.

It started with a fire. One minute it was dark, and I couldn't feel or see anything, but out of nowhere the world exploded into colors and pain.

My skin felt ablaze and all I could do was open my mouth and scream. That was a bad idea, because as I did so the fog seemed to tunnel down my throat, burning like acid on it's way to my lungs. It coiled up within me like a snake, twisting around my chest and squeezing the life out of me.

Somewhere in the chaos of anguish and mist and distant screams, I realized I wanted it to end. I wanted the suffering to stop and for the responsibility of living off my shoulders. I wanted the memories to wash away like I wanted the blood in my veins to leave me. It was a hungry desire, tearing my soul to ribbons as the fire absent of flames enveloped my body.

I couldn't be sure if my vision was skewed by tears or the fog was getting to them too, but I saw a flicker of her image next to me. It was Olivia, Emmet's younger sister, dragging me across the dew covered grass. “You have to get up, don't let it end this way, c'mon.” She pleaded, her voice wavering as she cried.

“I can't do it anymore Olivia. First Angeline, and mom, and dad, then you.” I felt myself speak, becoming aware that this wasn't my dream after all. With that realization, things seemed to come into better focus, shapes and colors sharpened in my view before distorting once more. This had to be Emmet's dream, not mine.

My body had become acquainted with the pain of the fog that was simply there, constant and unwavering until it felt as normal as breathing. It became less of a torturous pain and more of an endless feeling. But that was worse. The feeling was as though all the miserable things in life were being held inside me like I was Pandora's box.

And Olivia, my little beckon of hope had escaped and knelt beside me, pushing me to live without understanding my hope was gone. She was gone. Dead.

I wanted it to end.

“Help!” Olivia screamed into the mist, shaking. Yet it wasn't Olivia's voice that spoke, it was mine. It was like a replay of dawn, of crying out helplessly for someone to save Emmet.

I tried to find the source of the sound, but the darkness swept in, engulfing me. A voice spoke in the darkness though, so faint it couldn't be real.

“Angeline” it beckoned.