Page 117
I need Christian. I need to find him right now. It’s all mine, this entire book, and these were all people who knew me. Every single one of them.
Still, what was my place in all of this? My thoughts swirl like a violent tornado uplifting everything and creating chaos within the dark corners of my mind. It is truthfully a labyrinth. A confusing tumultuous maze. My head begins to ache causing black spots to form at the corner of my eyes.
Breathe, it’s okay.
“Who the hell is this voice speaking to me?” I hiss.
It’s us.
“Did you know what happened to me?” Daisy suddenly appears behind me. A yelp escapes my lips and Misty comes bounding from the bathroom.
“Don’t you realize there’s no mirrors in this house?” She tilts her head. Her skin is translucent, much like the last time I saw her, and blood trickles from her nose. I’m pretty sure this woman had my parents killed but curiosity is never a good trait.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, reaching out to gingerly touch her arm. She was the wife. Not Sara…Daisy had been.
Why had he acted so callously about her death?
Remember the tapes, Marisa.
Kieran had killed her to play a part of his ritual.
Her skin is so cold. “I have been here many times, over and over again. Think about the mirrors, why wouldn’t there be mirrors?” She smiles, mournfully.
“What is happening here?” I ask, fingers slightly trembling.
“Why do people cover mirrors in some cultures?” Daisy continues.
“I’m not sure…you tell me,” I reply, surely losing my mind. I’ve lost it. This isn’t real.
Don’t let go of the moment.
“Shut up,” I say out loud.
Daisy inclines her head in confusion.
“Nothing—sorry. Go ahead.”
“You know…I always envied you. But I should have been more of a friend.” She gives me a look reminiscent of a forlorn lover right before their lives crash into the ground. We were friends. Friends, where one was jealous of the other.
“Daisy, what is your purpose here?” I grit between my teeth, shaking her shoulders. I didn’t care for a dead woman’s epiphany right now even if we had been friends—granted the book is even real or a machination of the world toying with me.
“I’m here for you. I take on the hard parts of ourselves.” Her tone is robotic, distant.
If I could deduce anything from the book, it was that she was not there for me.
“You caused this didn’t you?” My face flushes and I feel heat crawling through my body. The journals, the tapes, the women floating in the chambers.
“I merely provided an idea. It was he who catalyzed this entire experiment.”
“What experiment?” I rush into her, grabbing onto her grainy collar. I shove her hard into the hearth.
She deserves it.
The fire roars.
“Don’t you see? Open your eyes. Everyone has shown you everything you need to know and you still don’t get it.” Daisy switches cadence to one of a petulant child.
“What have you done to me?” My jaw locks, holding back the ire that keeps rising in my chest.
