PART ONE
1
MIA
POUND.
Smile. Pretend you’re fine.
Pound.
Focus. You got this.
Pound.
Don’t think about it.
Pound.
Stop being a baby. You’ve been here before.
“Mia, are you okay?” The voice is familiar, though it sounds like it’s coming from the end of a very long tunnel.
I open my eyes, not even aware I’d closed them. I force a smile. My traitorous hand drops from its spot at my temple.
“I’m fine,” I lie, though I’m nowhere close to being fine. Fine is normal. Fine is not having your head split open with an invisible ax. Logically, it was just a headache. Plenty of people get headaches.
Pound.
Screw you, I silently cursed at my head.
It responded with another pound.
“Headache?” My boyfriend, Luke, asked the obvious.
“It’s no big deal,” I lied again.
My recurring headaches started the day my sister, Leah, was taken. They were sporadic. In the beginning I got them all the time. Sometimes they were tolerable and easy to ignore and other times they weren’t.
Pound.
This one happened to be an insistent bastard. I knew what that meant. I’d been here before. Time was short.
“I already know the answer, but do you want me to come in?” Luke asked, pulling up in front of my house. He watched as I rubbed my sore temples, giving away the severity of the headache. I’d never shared the origins of my headaches with him or the things that triggered them. As far as he knew they were brought on because I studied too hard. “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll be fine once I take ibuprofen,” I lied, ignoring the intense pain behind my eyes. I didn’t have much time before the headache would engulf me, leaving nothing but darkness. Most days I could feel the truly bad ones approaching and could prepare, but today’s headache had snuck up on me.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said, giving Luke a quick kiss somewhere near the corner of his mouth before hurrying out of his car. I pasted just enough of a fake smile on my face to get him to pull away. His reluctance showed that I’d slipped. Tomorrow when I felt better, I’d lie and tell him it was a migraine. That’s the diagnosis my doctor gave me years ago. I even had medication to prove it. He didn’t need to know the little pills wouldn’t help. That they’d never helped.
Pound.
Mother of all pounding suck.
The headache was growing quickly, taunting me from every side. I needed to get in my house sooner than later.
“You won’t win tonight,” I muttered, standing on my front porch as I fumbled for the keys in my bag. I should have saved time and fished them out while I was still in the car. That was a dumb move. The problem was Leah’s disappearance long ago caused my parents to go overboard with security.
Sensors on every door and window.
Front and back doors equipped with enough locks to keep Fort Knox safe.
It was a lame attempt to keep monsters away, but also a huge nuisance.
After several failed attempts and a few choice curse words, I finally matched my keys with the right locks and pushed the door open. Not surprisingly, the house was quiet and empty. Mom and Dad regularly worked late and clearly Jacob wasn’t home either. Thank goodness. I loved my brother, but he was a worrier. If he knew how bad this headache was, he would take matters into his own hands, maybe even haul me over his shoulder and lug me to the emergency room himself. Tonight his absence was a godsend. I could tell this headache was going to be a doozy.
My eyes were already having trouble focusing, which made entering my security code into the keypad by the door more of a chore than it should have been. Luckily, with enough blinking I finished in time, because my throbbing head would have exploded had the alarm gone off. The impending stairs that led up to my room looked as intimidating as a mountain. I slid along the wall for support, flipping on every light switch I passed. I was terrified of the dark. It was smothering and oppressive, like a mystical force trying to squeeze me in its grip. I usually slept with all the lights on in my room, including the night-light that used to belong to Leah. Not that it did much good once my eyes closed. There was simply no escaping the dark.
Pound.
Tiny razor-sharp tentacles were digging their way into my brain.
Fear gripped me.
I began to doubt I would make it to my bed before the shadows consumed me. My feet may as well have been encased in cement, as heavy as they were. Each step I took felt like a hundred.
Pound.
Somehow, I managed to pull my way to the top using the rail, and my foot found the last step. Leaning against the wall, I took a deep breath to gather myself, blinking over and over again to maintain focus. My room was at the end of the hall, but it looked like it was three football fields away. I needed to get to my bed. Everything would be tolerable if I could just make it there.
I shuffled down the hall like a zombie. “Almost there,” I said, counting the steps in my head. Ten more and I would reach my door. Five more after that and my bed would be within reach. I wouldn’t allow myself to think about the times in the past I hadn’t made it. My energy and focus were better spent moving forward.
Four steps to my room. If it wasn’t for the wall, I would have been on my ass already. The shadows were beginning to bleed together. I was almost out of time. I wasn’t going to make it. Panic began to claw its way up my throat.
Two steps. I was so close and yet my head felt like a grape being squeezed in a vise.
One step. I could no longer see. Reaching out blindly, my hand closed around my doorknob. My body weight pushed the door open and I fell forward into my room, collapsing on the floor. Even if I’d had the strength to crawl to my bed, I doubted I could have pulled myself up anyway. Rolling over on my back, I closed my eyes, letting the darkness take hold. You win was my last conscious thought.
* * *
“Earth to Mia—are you in there?” Amber, my best friend in the world, asked the next day, rapping her fingers on my locker to get my attention. I was too busy searching for my Spanish book to answer right away.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked, unearthing my book from the cluttered mess that was my locker.