Kahlan
The click of the bathroom door resonated in my ears as loud as a bomb. I couldn't breathe. Stupid Luna. That freak always made everything worse. This was her fault. All her fault.
-No. Not hers. Yours. Just yours.
I bit back the sob trying to claw out of my throat. Whirling around I met the flickering bathroom light. The intermittent slashes of darkness forced my heart to pound frantically. I was in the kitchen again. I could smell the blood. The viscera. Hear Casey's crying. The darkness started drawing closer.
-It should have been you.
I pushed my face into my palms. I couldn't do this anymore. I wanted the pain to end. I wanted this nightmare to end. Yet it wouldn't. I'd fallen asleep so many times, hoping to find myself back at my house, drowning in the scent of morning pancakes, with my dad sitting at the counter reading the paper, and my mom adjusting her itinerary. To my boring, normal life, my boring, normal, upper-class family.
A dark feeling blossomed in the pit of my stomach.
-Was it ever really normal?
Had I ever been normal? Was this a dream? If it was, then waking up should have released me from it. It didn't. The horrid dreams of blood and... and... unnatural monsters destroying my family were bleeding into the real world. Or was this the real world? I didn't know anymore.
I leaned onto the bathroom sink, my whole body shivering. I tasted salt on my lips—it made my cheeks wet and taut. There was a small old-fashioned metal razor on the sink.
-It should have been you.
It was going to be me. Ending it might be the only way to wake up from this nightmare, the only way I could go back to being Kahlan Johnson, the annoying high school nerd everyone hated.
The metal felt cool against my skin. I unscrewed the head to expose the razor blade.
Arcata, California
One month earlier
The world was singing. The threads of blue, gray, white, and gold vibrated in a violent cacophony of music, enveloping me in a cloak of life. The music rose and fell, as the emotions woven within it dipped and skyrocketed, from anger to sadness, happiness to fear, love to hate, then anger again.
So many voices, speaking all at once, buzzing like angry hornets around me, in me. Then the pain came. The burning, the cutting, the slashing, the pressing, all of it descended on me at once, robbing me of breath, of being. It felt like my body was being ripped apart, the very fabric of my flesh, down to the atoms was disintegrating, the particles pulled like magnets to every corner of the world. To feel each soul, to know each mind, to touch the universe, to taste a galaxy. To be everywhere and nowhere.
"Who are you?" The voice asked, the same voice I'd felt calling me since the beginning. Since my birth, my death, my existence, and destruction. The voice, which was neither male nor female, alive or dead, human, or spirit. I could feel it reach into my core, caress my bones, fill my mouth with the taste of stardust, fire, and brimstone. It tasted like another world. Like hell. Like pain.
"Just a girl," I responded my voice a whisper, a deafening scream.
The song grew louder, turning bitter and cooked, a sticky kind of blackness encrusting the music threads. The universe around me began collapsing, the sun, the stars, the souls, and minds vanishing into a black hole. The burning pain vanished, replaced with icy cold, an eternally frozen scream that gnawed on my blood.
"Who is your Maker?" The voice asked the echo it left behind morphing into a thousand silent cries. It drew me in, stuck to my being, crawled under my skin, till we were one and the same, beginning and end, life and death, creation and destruction.
I felt so cold. So alone. So betrayed, so forsaken. So alone.
Alone.
"I don't know!" I cried into the collapsing universe. I tried grasping at the black and barren threads, but there was nothing I could use to grasp. Just shattered atoms, ripped apart from the inside. No body, no girl. Just soul dust, sinking into the icy stillness of a black hole.
"No, no, no, please!" I cried into the void. I couldn't bear the pain, couldn't bear the fear. There was so much fear, it colored everything red. Red and black, the flames erupted all around me to devour the collapsing universe. I could see spider webs of frost, devouring each particle, as it sunk into the infinite void.
"Laenor, vaethe lem'nah?" the voice shrieked, cutting through the dust like shards of glass Everything was falling, disappearing, never to be seen. Devoured by a silent scream.
"Please no!" I grabbed at the last thread of light. It disintegrated into the darkness.
Then, I fell.
I jerked awake suddenly, my arms grasping for the first solid thing they could find. I needed to stop the fall. I kicked my legs, trying, needing to find purchase. My heart so far up my throat, I was certain I would be able to touch it if I pushed my tongue back.
-No, no, no, no!
I thrashed my limbs like liquid. The moment I felt something solid brush up against my forearm, I latched on to it, desperate for something solid to keep me above ground, to keep the blackness from swallowing me.
"Ms. Johnson, Ms. Johnson!" a voice cried, and I almost let go, afraid that thing from the void would come for me again, crawl under my flesh and merge with my soul. I had to get away. I couldn't let it take me. I couldn't let it take me!
"Kahlan!" the sharp stab of pain in my cheek was like a bucket of ice-cold water. My eyes were suddenly wide open, staring at a pair of brown irises, watching me over the brim of red-framed glasses.
"Kahlan, are you alright?" My English teacher, Mr. Shamsky asked, his lower lip quivering. He stood hunched over me, beads of sweat forming on his bald head. Fear and regret were written all over his face—one would think that he'd just made the biggest mistake of his career.
I wanted to retort that I was, of course, what kind of stupid question was that, I was always fine when I became acutely aware of the scene around me. 25 pairs of eyes were staring right at me—or more specifically at me clutching my English teacher's arm as my life depended on it, while he stood over me, his arm raised high. As if he was preparing to slap me. Again.
-Kill. Me.
It happened again. In school. A public place. And everyone saw it. I was so screwed.
"Ms. Johnson!" Mr. Shamsky raised his voice. Realizing he was trying to shake his arm out of my grip, I immediately released it and sat up straighter. If I acted like nothing happened, everyone would forget what they'd just seen, right?
"Yes, of course, I'm alright. I'm always alright. It was nothing."
My English teacher made a face at me like he'd just swallowed a lemon.
"Right, of course. It's just... the paper I handed you seemed to upset you."
My eyes flew to my desk to find the freshly graded essay I'd turned in last week. A-.
-Great, mom is going to love this.
"Aww, what's the matter, did Ms. Perfect get her first B?" someone from the behind me called. I rolled my eyes, instantly recognizing that smoker's rasp. "How will she live with it?! The horror! Oh, the horror!"
Inhaling sharply, I decided to make use of the lingering traces of adrenaline left in my veins and channeled my mother.
"Sad thing is Brian," I fired, turning to face that smug, greasy stoner's face, tucked away in the last row. "You'll probably never know the feeling of getting a grade higher than a D."
I whirled around, not wanting to see the snickering faces he and his metal head crew made.
"Oof, sick burn, Disney channel. You got any more harsh digs?"
"Quiet, Mr. Kilmer," My teacher said, blinking rapidly, as the rest of the classroom erupted in a torrent of laughter. I noticed Alyssa Macey twirling her freshly bought extensions, her face twisted in a mocking scowl. I was never going to live this down.
"Do you need me to call you a nurse, or..."
"No!" I fired back, my stomach turning. I needed about ten feet of space between me and all medical professionals. "I'm fine. Could I... could I just maybe go to the bathroom real quick?"
"Of course, I..." I was on my feet before he even got the chance to finish. My bag in tow I practically sprinted out of the classroom before Brian could throw another witty comment that would make everyone laugh at me even harder than they already had.
-Crap, crap, crap!
I wanted to scream when I burst into the bathroom, the world around me red. My skin seemed to be on fire, and not even a splash of ice-cold water did much to soothe the burning.
-Why did this happen now?
I thought I had it under control. The stupid, trippy dreams about universes and dark beings I'd been having for the past couple of months were just that. Dreams. Never before had they crept on me while I was awake. Much less in school! Where everyone could see me freak out as I tried desperately to cling to my failing sanity.
-What is wrong with me?
I had never had these problems before. I was normal, perfect, a miracle child who always got good grades and listened to her mom. Now, it seemed I was hallucinating shiny threads and black holes. And a disembodied voice asking me strange things in a language I was pretty sure didn't exist.
-Oh yeah, I'm definitely going crazy.
Maybe the pressure my mom was putting on me had finally fried my brain.
I leaned against the bathroom sink, letting my hair fall over my shoulder. I looked like I'd been run over by a truck. Perhaps I should have let Mr. Shamsky call the nurse.
-No, that can't happen.
A nurse meant an examination, which further meant a diagnosis, which further meant a pile of colorful prescriptions, ending with a trip to the nuthouse, to grow old with all the other people who heard voices in their heads. And I knew my mom would sooner drop dead than see her perfect angel get proclaimed a schizo.
I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let that happen.
-Keep it together, Johnson.
I'd survived being called a freak for 17 years of my life. I would get over becoming one as well.
-I mean, how hard can it be?
Splashing some more water on my face, I pulled out the mini brush I always carried in my bag and combed my messy hair into polished curls. After adjusting my black and cream plaid shirt and smoothing the hem of my pencil skirt, I exhaled thrice. Once I was sure I was presentable, I looked my reflection dead in the eye.
-Prim and perfect, Kahlan. Prim and perfect. Don't let them see you as anything less.
Grabbing my things, I sauntered out into the hallway. It wouldn't bode well for my record if I skipped the rest of my English class.
* * *
My best friend accosted me at my locker after English was over.
"Spill, now," Casey demanded, snapping my locker door shut. I exhaled and slung my book bag over my shoulder. The people milling about in the hallway were shooting us weird looks and snickering to themselves. I was pretty sure that this time, Casey's booty shorts with lace pantyhose underneath had nothing to do with the attention we were getting.
"Well hello to you too Case. How are you, how's it going? I still wasn't done in there by the way," I said and reopened my locker. Casey's whiskey brown eyes narrowed at me, and she blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. Creamy blonde this month.
"Don't change the subject, Kay."
I exhaled and picked up my bio notes. The sticky stench of French fry grease still permeated the school, even though lunch had ended hours ago.
-Ugh, someone needs to fix up the vents in the cafeteria, pronto.
The smell of crappy, processed food did nothing to impress my headache.
"So you heard?"
Casey scoffed. "Of course I did. The entire school has. It's a miracle Alyssa Macey hadn't filmed it and put it up on YouTube."
I forced my locker shut and moved to pass Casey, careful not to meet her eyes. If I did, I would come undone.
"I'm fine Case, really. I was just tired. Not a big deal."
"Not a big deal? From what I heard, it was a big deal. People said you were screaming and flailing like someone was torturing you. Brian Kilmer said that you looked like you needed an exorcism."
I rolled my eyes as Case followed me to the first floor where I had biology. Taunts and whistles greeted us at the stairs, as the boys on the lacrosse team passed us on their way down. If I didn't end up pelting someone with a book today, it would be a miracle.
"And you're going to trust him? The same guy who told everyone that you got a pass on gym last year because you let Assistant Coach do you in his office, not because of your broken arm?"
Casey scoffed. "Obviously not. But look me and the eye and tell me that there isn't at least some truth to what people are saying."
I paused outside the woodshop, whirling around to look at her. There was genuine concern on her plump, rounded face. Her upturned eyes had softened, drooping down gently as she examined my expression, looking, prodding for any sign of emotion, weakness, anything. I prayed that she didn't notice how tired I was, how pale my skin had become—how deathly afraid I was of the possibility that I was actually becoming a schizo.
-Prim and perfect Kahlan.
My mother's voice whispered at the back of my mind, warning me that I shouldn't trust Casey, that I shouldn't tell her anything. It wasn't her business. She wasn't family, and therefore she could never truly care about me, could never have my best interest at heart.
I shook off the chills creeping up my back and stood straighter.
"No, there isn't," I said, willing my voice to be calm and collected. "I fell asleep in class and had a bad dream. That's it—nothing special about it. Like, how many times have you fallen asleep in class, and I've never given you flack for it."
Casey tucked her hands into the pockets of her faux leather jacket. She hated whenever I brought up her less than responsible attitudes toward school. It was a low blow, but she was getting on my nerves.
"I've never woken up screaming."
I gritted my teeth. "So what, are you saying I need to be locked up in the nuthouse because of one bad dream?"
"That's not what I meant at all. And for the record Kay, I never said that you were crazy, or that you need to be locked up."
Meaning sparkled in her eyes. I groaned and immediately turned on my heels.
"Oh god Case, not this again!"
She quickened her pace to match mine. "What, is it so weird to think that you may have some psychic powers? I mean, your aunt is a psychic, so maybe you are too."
"Ugh, look Case, I love my aunt, but the whole psychic thing is just a load of bull. Even my mom says that it's all an act, a shtick she started recently. I mean, she was never 'psychic' when they were kids."
"And the Sea World thing? What about that?"
I paused dead in my tracks. A scream lingered in my throat.
"C'mon Case seriously, will you let go of that, please? It happened years ago."
Seven to be precise. A trip my dad took Casey and me on for my 10th birthday—a fun, little escapade to Sea World where I was supposed to bond with my aloof father and build some semblance of a friendship with the only person my mom thought was okayish enough to be friends with me. Instead, what I got was a nightmare, filled with lurking orcas, park security, and a very pissed off soccer mom.
"How can I? You said you could hear people's thoughts sometimes. Make them do things. You forced that fat kid to jump into the..."
"I was kidding. We'd just watched the X men and I wanted to look cool in front of you, so I said I could read minds."
"And the kid? What about him?"
A lump formed in my gut.
-Andy. His name was Andy.
We'd seen him on a couple of rides, stuffing his rotund face with corndogs as his mother argued with park employees about cutting in front of everyone, cause her baby 'deserved it'. He'd made faces at us and thrown caramelized popcorn at my head when we used our Fast Pass to get on the rides first. I knew he hated us—his emotion bled right into me, a sickly sweet syrup of contempt and bitterness. I knew his mother had told him that we were rich brats who didn't deserve those fast passes—I could hear her voice, faintly whispering at the back of my mind, snickering at the 'little bitch' who had unfairly gotten everything she and her baby boy deserved.
Her anger was intoxicating. Poisonous. It made me tired of their insults.
Later, when the park security fished Andy from the orca pool he'd jumped in, they asked him what in the world had possessed him to bypass the heavy fence and swan dive into the enclosure. Shivering, and still coughing up gallons of water, he told them that he didn't know. He said that he just really, really wanted to swim with the fishies.
"It was an accident Case. You heard the park security. He slipped and fell in. No one made him jump."
-It had to be that.
I'd doubted that story after I'd heard it. Yet it was the only rational explanation. I wasn't some super-powered psycho who could force people to do whatever she wanted. It was just an absurd coincidence. It had to be.
Casey on the other hand didn't buy it, not then, and certainly not now. Maybe she thought she saw something on my face when I said I was going to make that kid jump into the orca pool. Maybe her naïve belief in the paranormal convinced her I did have superpowers. Either way, from then on out, she always regarded me with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Like I could actually use my imaginary powers to freaking zap her or something.
"Right, sure," she murmured, unconvinced. "Look, if you don't want to tell me, then don't. I can't force you to talk to me, though god knows I've tried over the years. But... at least consider the possibility that whatever is happening, isn't just some weird-ass nightmare."
I snorted and crossed my arms on my chest.
-There is no way.
Icy chills slid down my back, and a faint voice ticked my ear. The same voice from my nightmare.
"Call your aunt. Talk to her. Maybe she can help." Case paused, and what looked like pity filled her eyes. I almost scoffed—as if I needed an irresponsible, party girl to pity me.
-Mom was right. She is a nosey dick.
"You know the alternative. See you around, Kay," She said and walked back toward the stairs, not looking back once. If there was anything Case did well, it was walk away.
Frustration climbed in my throat, and I just about rushed after her to scream how it was none of her business. Yet when I caught sight of the giant, digital clock hanging on the ceiling above the woodshop classroom, Casey disappeared from my mind. I was ten minutes late for my biology class.
-Dammit.
I hadn't even noticed that the lime green hallways had emptied of all students.
I whirled around and speed-walked toward the bio-lab, trying to force all thoughts of this fiasco from my mind. Casey had no idea what she was talking about—this was just a one-time thing, and soon everything would go back to normal.
-Not even you buy that.
My fingers hovered over the doorknob—I could see my bio teacher, Mrs. Kersh already deep into the lesson, switching between presentation slides. Maybe I did need to call my aunt. Not because I believed in any of the nutty stuff Casey was suggesting but... to talk. She would definitely be more open to hearing me out than mom would.
-Mom would flip out.
I actually think she would handle me being a schizo better than me being some weird magical freak.
-Stop it, there's no such thing. This is just a phase. It'll pass.
I knocked softly on the door and entered the classroom, much to the snickers of everyone inside. I ignored the stench of chlorine and profusely apologized to Mrs. Kersh for being late.
I would be fine. I was always fine.