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I’m watching them trick her into the room, and there’s a ghost of a smile playing across her lips like she’s relieved to finally be accepted. It only takes her a few moments to put the pieces together. As she realizes what’s going on, her entire body goes limp. And those emerald-green eyes glaze over. I hear their laughter echoing off the tiled surfaces, evil, sinister, cruel joy rumbling from their chests at her expense.
The bottom half of Scarlett’s straight hair gets wet first. It takes her a moment to adjust, to focus on the water rising in the tub before she goes ballistic. And her expression—the frown that tugs at her full lips, the back-and-forth frenzy of her gaze as she realizes she’s been deceived—shatters my heart.
I choke on my exhale as my sister cries out like a child being beaten. I have to look away as they lock her head into place and begin lowering her to the water. But there’s a sloshing sound in my ears, and my sight turns blurry.
My hands instinctively cover my ears to block out the sounds of her gurgling, choking, and splashing. But it isn’t enough. The noise is within my own mind. I can’t escape it.
With one hand on my chest, I try to control my breathing.Am I having a panic attack?The air in my chest turns heavy. Uncomfortable.In, out, in, out.But the tightness only gets worse. And then it starts to burn.
I don’t know if this is my reaction to Scarlett’s memory, but panic bites into my bones. A response I can’t control. Blood rushes violently through my neck, pumping into my chest until I feel everything locking up.
I shut my eyes at the vision of Scarlett being dunked in the tub. It’s as if it’s happening to me too. Like merely being next to her while she suffers is bringing me the same awful sensations. I squirm to get away but remember that I, too, am stuck here.
My breath rattles in my chest like loose hardware, and I’m gasping uncontrollably.Get it together! It’s only a memory!
I need to get out of here, leave this memory, because—
I exit the void, regaining enough control to slip back into the present. And for a moment, I think I’m safe. I’m back. I’m calm. Until I open my eyes and realize I’m underwater. And the urge to take a breath swells inside me.
Did Meridei really start the treatment while I was stuck in another memory? I’m being drowned, and I don’t know how long she’s kept me under. My mouth is gaping open, desperate to find air to reel back into my lungs. But utter blackness smudges my vision, staining the outer edges of the tub and the glimmering blue water.
My core buckles first, convulsing inwardly as I let my survival instincts take over.How long have I been under? Why isn’t she bringing me back up?
Every muscle tightens, activates, and goes completely ballistic.
Pull me back up!
I think of Chekiss. Of all the moments he suffered in this tub. I can fight at least a fraction of the time he endured this madness.
How did you do this, Chekiss?
My face bunches together in agony. The tub clanks and jostles as I use all of my strength to break free. Only, this contraption isn’t forgiving. And I am out of air.
My limbs go numb first, then everything seems to float. My body, hollow and disconnected, rises like a bubble in a bathtub. The slow banging of my heartbeat turns sluggish and uncertain as if forgetting to beat on cue. And that’s it. I’m no longer in the water but looking down at myself, hair splayed across the tub, golden and wispy.
It’s unreal. A painting of another world I’m no longer a part of. I can gaze upon it, observe it from afar, but no longer interact.
I somehow turn for the door and leave. My legs don’t move, there aren’t any footsteps, yet I seem to sift through the air. Not float, not fly, but glide.
With everything I’ve seen lately, I’m not sure what to believe. Is this real? Did I… die?
I find the use of my legs, find that I’m more comfortable using them even though I no longer need to. And I start running down the hallway, dry and in a soft white dress, like the ones I used to wear as a child. My bare feet patter along the black-and-white tiles and the asylum is deserted, silent for the first time since I arrived, with a peaceful white glow around the edges of my sight.
It’s as though the world has fallen asleep. And I’m the only one still awake.
“Looking for someone?”
This—thisisn’t a memory. It isn’t a hallucination of Ambrose Oasis. It isn’t a figment of my delusions. It isn’t a tangible memory that can’t interact with me. I don’t know how I know this, but I am certain. I’ve stepped out of my skin, out of my mind plagued with depression and trauma and irreversible damage.
And I’m fully aware that the voice behind me isreal.
Deep, strong, warm, and familiar. It saturates the backs of my arms in goose bumps. It softens my face and loosens my jaw.
I turn around and instantly slap my hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut. I fall against the wall at my back.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, shaking my head without looking at him.
“Skylenna.” He’s closer now. So close. Real. Real.Real.
