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Fishbowls
Alexis
I feel like I’m swimming in a fishbowl, going round and round. My head spins, like a top, and my arms and legs are rubbery. And as I funnel around in the water, everyone watches. My older brother Loki. My older sister Jessamine. My younger brother Nik. My twin sister Zhara. Even my parents are there, staring through the glass, as if they’ve risen from the grave. Only they don’t look like zombies. In fact, they look just how I remember them. Happy and smiley. Although, my mom’s eyes carry a drop of pain. I don’t know why I never noticed that before. Did she when she was alive? Was she hurting? Why?
One thing’s for sure. I’m definitely hurting now. I wish I knew why.
What happened to me? Why do I feel like I’m dreaming?
As I float around in the giant fishbowl, pondering those questions, answers begin to creep through my hazy mind. Blaine and Masie kissing. My car getting stolen. That weird ass card I found. Running away. West finding me… him kissing my neck… touching me…
My mind becomes distracted, my thoughts consumed by West. Suddenly he’s the only one staring at me in the fishbowl. But he looks distorted through the glass and his eyes are crammed with concern. He’s worried. Why?
A brief memory rushes over me of falling out of West’s car and landing on the sidewalk. A needle sinks into my skin and then… Well, and then I can’t remember.
“What’s happening to me?” I murmur as I struggle to swim with the swirling motion of a sudden current.
West presses his hand to the fishbowl and watches me float round and round. “You need to wake up.”
“I’m not awake?” I ask as the water begins to drag me down.
He shakes his head, strands of his blonde hair falling into his eyes. “No. And if you don’t wake up soon, you’ll get stuck here.”
Panic flares through my body. I hate the water almost as much as I loathe the color pink, which is saying a lot because I fucking hate the color of pink.
“Help me!” I shout as I struggle to swim, kicking my legs and paddling my arms.
“I can’t.” His eyes plead for me to understand. “You need to do this on your own.”
“I can’t.” I gasp for air. “I’m not strong enough.”
“Yes, you are, Alexis,” he says. “You can do this.”
“Do what!” I cry as water waves over my head. “There’s nowhere to go.”
“Yes, there is.”
“Where!”
He blows out a breath. “To the bottom.”
I gape at him, “You want me to drown!”
“No, I want you to start from the beginning because you can’t go forward until you do.”
“Thanks for the insightful advice.” My tone drips with sarcasm. A wave crashes over me and panic takes over again. “Please, West, help me.”
“I’m trying to,” he insists. “But you need to trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone and for good reasons.”
“I know. But have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”
I shake my head from side to side. “No.”
He carries my gaze. “Okay, then stop fighting it. Come back so we can start over.”
With a shaky nod, I let my body go still, allowing the current to drag me downward. Then I sink into the water, all the way to the bottom of the fishbowl. I hold my breath and wait. And wait. And wait…
Darkness replaces the water. Takes me over. Possesses me.
I can’t breathe!
I try to gasp for air, but nothing happens. My skin begins to burn, scorching hot, as if I’m about to erupt into flames. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move.
I think I’m dying.
I think I’ve died before.
The thought sideswipes me out of nowhere, and suddenly I feel fingers around my neck. I gasp for air. Then everything goes black.
I think I’ve gone mad
Alexis
My eyelids shoot open and I suck in a huge breath of air. Light instantly blinds me and panic courses through my body, along with a fiery pain. The sensation is way too similar to what I felt in my dream and an unsettling feeling weighs down on me.
Something’s wrong. My body is broken or something. My mind is broken. I’m dead.
I’ve been dead before.
The thought causes adrenaline to course through my veins. Why do I keep thinking this? Am I dead? Did I die?
Then why do I feel awake? And why does my skin feel so hot.
“I can’t see anything,” I whisper, blinking my eyes several times. “Am I blind?”
“No, you’re just panicking.” The unfamiliar deep voice startles the shit out of me.
Great. Not only am I blind, confused, and maybe on fire, but also a strange dude is with me.
I rack my brain for memories of how I ended up in this position. All I can remember is the fishbowl dream, thinking I’m dying, and that I’ve been dead before.
What’s happening to me?
Panic blasts through my veins and the heat under my skin increases, my pulse skyrocketing. I feel as though I’m in a sauna.
“Are you the one who stabbed the needle into my arm?” I ask tensely, wishing to God I could see where I am, see the stranger, see something,
He chuckles. Fucking chuckles. And the sound makes me grit my teeth.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not.” His amusement is annoying. “If I was, though, you probably should be more frightened.”
I don’t believe him. He had to have kidnapped me.
Trust no one, Alexis. Ever. Once you do, you’ll end. My mom whispered those words to me once, granted she was drunk, which is why the last part didn’t make much sense. Still, after she died, I took those words to heart. I rarely trust anyone and I’m not about to start now.
“Great, you’re one of those creepy pervs who gets their kick
s off of frightened women.” I shake my head, disgusted and freaked out. But I’m not about to show my emotions. I need to stay calm. Need to pretend I’m not scared shitless. Need to pretend my skin doesn’t feel as if it’s on fire. “Is that why you tranquilized me and then took me?”
“So you’re calling me a liar? That’s pretty brave of you.” The heavy silence that follows his statement makes my anxiety soar. “Obviously, you’re one of those stupid girls who doesn’t know when to keep their mouths shut.” His low tone sends a chill up my spine, but the heat in my body quickly wipes the sensation away. “Because if I had kidnapped you, this would be the part where I punish you for talking back to me.” A cold palm cups my cheek.
I jerk back, but another palm molds over my other cheek, and my face becomes trapped between a pair of hands. My insides shiver, but I refuse to show any signs of being scared.
“Let me go.” Frustration rumbles through me.
This would be a hell of a lot easier if I could see him.
Then again, maybe not. Perhaps he’s as creepy looking as he sounds.
“Again, I stress, if I had kidnapped you, this would be the part where I punish you for talking back.” His grip on my face tightens, not in a painful way, but the added pressure makes me feel even more trapped.
And the startling heat blaring inside my body is only adding to my skittishness.
What on earth happened to me? What sort of drugs did this guy inject into me? Is the heat a side effect? Is that why I felt like I was dying?
I gulp as he drags his finger back and forth across my lips. Yep, this guy is definitely a creepy pervert. This isn’t good. At all.
I’m so screwed.
And where the heck is West? Did he get kidnapped too? Or did this guy just take off with me?
“Let go of me.” I aim for a firm tone but epically fail. “And stop touching my lips. Who knows where the hell your hands have been.”
He fucking chuckles. Again. And it pisses me off. Well, more than I already am.
“You’re feistiness isn’t going to do any good right now. It’s only going to encourage me.” He traces his finger across my mouth again, as if to prove a point. That he holds all the power over the situation.
Powerless. I feel so powerless. It’s scaring me a bit. And pissing me off.
“I’ll f-fight you.” I despise my uneven tone. “Whatever you’re planning on doing to me, I’m going to fight you. I’m not going to make this easy for you.”
“And what exactly do you think I’m going to do to you?” He sounds amused as his finger brushes across my lips again.
“Who the hell knows, but I’m sure it probably involves living out your disgusting, perverted, creeper fantasies. Sucks for you, though, because it’s not going to happen.” Then I open my mouth and sink my teeth into his finger.
Take that, fucker.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t jerk back, allowing my teeth to sink deeper into his finger.
Lovely. He’s a freak who loves pain. That’s going to make fighting back a pain in the ass.
Still, I continue to sink my teeth into his flesh until I feel a soft pinch through the fabric of my shirt, right below my left breast.
I wince and jerk back, releasing his finger from my teeth. “Ow. What the hell.”
