AllFreeNovel
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They do hurt. More than she realizes. She holds me a few seconds longer, and I try not to let every tear shed. When I feel strong enough, I pull away, and she smiles at me, tilting her head. “Okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Good. Now blow out your candle. The wax is dripping all over the cupcake!”
I laugh and bend down, making an internal wish before blowing it out. My wish is stupid, and highly unlikely, but I think it anyway. I wish to see Caz again.
Sixty-Two
WILLOW
“So,I used our database to find what I could about Tethers, whether fictional or non-fictional, and these are the only books that popped up,” Faye says. We shared the cupcake, popped open a bottle of champagne she’d brought along, and now it’s time to focus.
“Four books?”
“Yes, and only one is nonfiction, so the fictional ones may not even help, ya know, since they’re made up and all.” She sits on the edge of the bed, picking one of them up. “So, I guess let’s start with the nonfiction.”
Two hours later,and nothing. I don’t want to give up hope, but we’re down to the last book and haven’t come across anything that can help us. The final book is thin, which doesn’t give me much to look forward to, and Faye exhales, handing it to me.
“I would read it, but I promised to spend time with abuela tonight. She knows I’m off early today so she’s expecting dinner with me. You can join us if you want. You know she always makes plenty.”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to interrupt your bonding time, plus I should probably keep reading. Tell her I said hello though.” I take the book from her and smile, though it’s the last thing I want to do right now. If I can’t find a way back to Caz, will I ever be able to return? Why could I hear him so clearly before, even when I ended up in a frozen state in the forest, yet I can’t hear him now?
“Okay. Well, let me know if you find out anything.” Faye collects her purse and keys. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”
“Don’t worry. It obviously just means I should put it all behind me.”
Faye presses her lips a moment, gripping the knob of the door. “I don’t believe that for a second.” Then she twists the knob, walks out, and closes the door behind her. As she leaves, I hear thunder in the sky. Rain is on the way.
I stare at the front of the book. The author’s name is Leah Bianchi, and the cover isn’t very enthusiastic. It’s solid blue, with the titleThe Cold Heartedin white font.
Sighing, I walk with the book to my bed and flop backwards, staring at the ceiling. I’ve resisted the urge to get high, to cling to some feeling of escape, worried it would prevent me from hearing Caz. Now, I’m thinking that’s not the case. Being sober seems to make me feel further away from him.
I open my nightstand and pluck out a joint and a lighter, spark the end of it, and lie back, taking a long pull. After two more long pulls, I feel relaxation come over me, and my racing thoughts slow down. I close my eyes, hoping to hear Caz. If I think about him, maybe I’ll see his face.
But I don’t. I take another pull before putting out the joint and then picking up the book, flipping it open to the first page. At first, nothing about the book stands out. A woman meets a man in another universe, which I find intriguing and can surprisingly say I relate to. The first few chapters explain their love, their connection, her dire need to have kids. But when I reach the tenth chapter, the dialogue changes. No longer is the author speaking about her great love with her wonderful man in another realm in first person. She’s switched to second person, and when I see the wordsFreezing Cold Tetheras the title of the next chapter, goosebumps crawl up my arms.
I spring up in the bed, reading the title of the new page again. The next sentence asks,Is this you?
You traveled to another universe,one unlike your own. You landed in a place unknown and were approached by someone who instantly connected with you. This person took you in, made you feel at home, and you fell in love. Everything in this world felt wrong but being with that significant other felt right. You only wanted to be with them.
And then something sent you away. Like the snap of fingers, you’re gone, back to your world, yet all you can think about is your other half. Your soulmate. YourTether.
You think for a while you don’t belong together. The truth is, you do. And there is something in this world trying to stop your bond. I’ve concluded that a bond such as this one is too powerful for a single world, so it has split itself into different worlds. And due to some greater power—greater than anything I’ve ever imagined—we travel to this other world to merge andform a bond. And this bond possesses good energy. It’s pure, and wholesome, and it thrives and breathes…
But, of course, with anything that is good, along comes the bad.
The bad will rip you apart. The badwilllie. The bad will tell you that you don’t belong, and you will believe it. Then the bad will attempt to kill you while you’re apart because it is when you are most vulnerable. Apart, is when it truly feeds.
How do I know this? Because I’ve witnessed it. My love, my Tethered, was taken from me. I traveled back to his land, to his home, and there he lay on the floor; however, he was not himself. He was a hollow, sunken version of himself. His eyes were gone and had turned into black holes, as black and deep as a literal blackhole, and his mouth was ajar, as if he’d been screaming as whatever this evil being was sucked the life from him.
And then I heard it return. As if it’d sensed my presence, I felt the cold wrap around me, sinking into my bones, and I fled. I ran with tears in my eyes, begging for my world to swallow me back up, and it did.
Wrapped in a blue light, I returned home, but not without seeing that evil being. The red eyes, black body, black claws. It looked right at me, as if proving it would come for me next.
It’d taken my love. It’d taken half of me. And what they don’t tell you is that when your Tether dies, so do you, just not right away. You weaken first, and you don’t eat. You don’t sleep. Your organs begin to freeze, and then they fail you. You always feel cold, even during summer. It lasts for months, a slow torture constantly reminding you of what you’ve lost.
As I write this, I’m on my deathbed, hoping what I have to say will help someone else out there with an unpredictable life such as mine.
