The annoying repetition of my alarm clock and its maddening beeping grows louder, informing me that it's six in the morning. Though, without having slept a wink all night in fear of the nightmare's return, I had already known the time.

Besides, it hadn't been a peaceful night with the hollowing whispers outside of my window. A collection of "he's here for her," and "can he convince her?" Along with, "she needs to be ready. Red is coming." And the most eerie that has yet to leave my mind, "Serelia's blood will soon be spilt."

Scenarios play off in my mind, trying to figure out the situation. Either it's the obvious idea that I'm insane and it may have stemmed genetically from my mother. Another part of me may believe it's some curse placed upon me. Or the largest possibility, anxiety is a bitch and life is one elusive joke.

The idea of having to go back to see my mother for answers strains inside of me, my hands forcing my pillow over my face in an attempt to suffocate myself from the world.

After going through my quick daily routine, finishing with placing the small ring my mother gave to me years ago onto my finger. A silver band encrusted with modest diamonds, the thin teardrop emerald in its center that glistens in the sun, like a fallen leaf. Three thin lines of silver wrap around across the gem, caging it to the band.

Even after the accident, I never have been able to take it off. I tried once, the day that the mental institution took mom away from our house. I had taken the ring and thrown it out by where we crashed.

An hour later I went back for it, my heart felt empty without it on. A naked feeling had rushed through me, a part of me was missing.

That was the last time I ever took it off.

Writing up a quick note to my technology-impaired grandma, I move to open the front door, startled by the person on the other sign.

"The hell," a smile twists onto my face as Levana holds her hand upwards where she was about to knock.

"Hey, I was about to- well you know," she chuckles under her breath, lowering her hand down to her side. "Anyways, are you ready to go?"

"For?" My thoughts question aloud before remembering. "Crap, the mall," my voice trails off seeing a frown tug down on Levana's lips.

"Yeah, and unless someone is dying or the world is going to be ending in the next three hours that no one's told me about," her brisk frown now turns to a sly smile, "then you're not getting out of it." Her eyes give an unspoken 'I dare you,' and I can't exactly tell her what my other plans would have been.

Your nightmares won't vanish after a trip to the mall.

And as cruel as it may be, mom will still be where she is tomorrow. Perhaps one normal day doesn't seem so bad, that is, if I can even remember normal.

"Okay," I nod, "let's go."

"Serelia," she grins, placing a sympathetic hand upon my shoulder. "It's cute you think that you have a choice."

"Free world," I wink while tightening my lips together, them tugging upwards in a quick smile.

"Not with me."

Finding ourselves at Mama Meg's, the bijou diner of this town, one of Lupa's only redeeming qualities, we wait in one of the booths for Meg. She's perhaps one of the few people I can truly stand in this town and is someone I admire more than anyone. Someone who I could talk to after our accident and never has treated me like a porcelain doll ready to shatter. Meg's been here for as long as anyone can remember, this diner standing just as long.

Such a compact establishment, assorted in a blend of greens, golds, browns, and reds, giving it a woodland-feel. Lanterns are the only source of light if not for the large windows in front. Elkwood chairs to match the tables, walls chipping old paint, and the grease that strains your nose as soon as you walk in. Though, that's never stopped Meg and her undeniable recipes.

Sitting a couple of waters in front of us, Meg sits beside me with a soft smile. Levana grows quieter, her leg bouncing beneath the table, bumping into mine every so often.

Furrowing my eyebrows at her sudden apprehension, Meg's frail voice breaks the quiet. "Hi girls, how are you both?"

Levana, remaining quiet, leaves me to speak up. "We're doing good, Mama," the word slipping out easier for Meg than it ever has for Abria. She's really been the most motherly figure I've had since the accident. "How are you?'

"Oh you know, the same old. Cooking faster than I can breathe, my lungs must be filled with grease fumes by now!" Turning my gaze from Levana to Mama, a smile forms onto my lips with a light chuckle that harmonizes with that of Meg's. "Levana, dear!" She beams across the table, "So quiet today! How are you, love?"

"I'm okay," she mutters, rushing her words in a quick breath, never turning to face Meg.

Moving in her seat, stiff as she shuffles and her hand reaches for her mouth, I bite my bottom lip to avoid calling out her sudden shift in mood.

Unsure if Meg picks up Levana's same uneasiness, she keeps her sight on Levana before turning back to me and switching between the two of us. "I'm sure you two must be hungry! I can cook you lovelies your usuals."

"Thank you, Mama," I say, nodding my head in her direction, still gracing a small smile before she turns to leave.

As soon as Meg is out of view, I shift my attention back to Levana, still tense in her seat. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, babes," she jumps up a bit, her hand quickly lowering back onto the table, almost as if she had forgotten I was here entirely. "I could've sworn someone was following us. I didn't see who exactly, but it's like I could feel them watching us. Whoever it was, they gave me the absolute creeps. I think he's gone though now."

Her eyes look past me towards the front door and window, scanning the outside as if checking to make sure the coast was clear of any lurking strangers.

"He?" I pause, the wolves whispers in my mind, their warnings in the night. He's here for her. Could it be the same person? "Are you sure? We can leave and go back home or something." I try to keep a calm composure in my voice, not wanting her to worry or think it is more than some creeper. I don't even know if it even is the same person. That would mean to suggest the whispers are true and someone is coming for me.

Shaking out of her trance-like state, Levana's light-hearted spirit seems to return to her smile as she once more fixes her posture and brings her eyes back to me. "I'm fine. I'm probably just spiraling, it's been a day."

"We all have them, it seems," I tilt my head while my shoulder draws upward. "I think a bit of crazy is essential to life at this point," I joke, though the words feel a bit too real as they release from my mouth.

The two of us eat the buffet of food Meg brings for us not long after our conversation. Every now and again, my mind drifts back to my mom, how much I need to go back to speak to her. The fact that she knows something I can't even seem to understand, but have no choice to find out.

After paying for our meals, Levana drives us to the mall. Every so often she grows quiet again, but plays it off as "a moment." Though it's clear something is off with her.

Having another one of these "moments," her attention shift changes outside of her window, causing the car to swerve. Panic doesn't hesitate within me, my reflexes reaching for the overhead hanger and a yelp releasing past my lips and into the world.

A tear of reality brings my vision back to the night of my mom and I, how fast it was before our worlds changed.

My head lunged forward, clashing with the dashboard in front, not even able to let out a scream. The highway that was lined with infinite trees became a haze. The car hurled my mother and I.

Once.

Twice.

Before I lost count.

Only stopping when we made impact with a tree downhill. Glass sank into my skin. Leaves and dirt made their way past what had used to be a door, but was now littered somewhere up on the hill. My world literally turned upside down. Blood rushed to my brain and leaked out of the gash along my forehead.

Blood dripped down my face from my arms and stomach. The taste of its metallic nature tracing along my lips, blending with the tears that dropped to the roof of the car.

Through time, those wounds had turned to scabs which then turned to scars. A forever souvenir of this moment.

Being woken up with lights shining above, brighter than any star yet much more distant, streaking passed me though I remained immobile.

My mother's screams, a ghost's wails sounding from a person still alive. Nurses calling out a hundred codes a minute, having restrained her to a gurney near mine.

"The wolves. It was the wolves." Her cries echoed against the hospital walls. Loud enough to drown out the sound of my own heartbeat. Even the feeling of it. My body numbed by pain. Not even able to sense the needles prodded into my veins, pumping a supply of drugs into me that could send anyone down the rabbit hole to Wonderland.

It took a week before I was able to realize I wasn't dead.

Though my heart was still beating, it bled like the rest of me.

And those would become scars that, though unseen, would never heal.

A passing car honks at us, nearly skimming their own vehicle, snapping Levana back into focus and straightening out the wheel, barely missing the driver as they flip us off.

"I'm so sorry," she takes a breath in, pulling the car off to the side of the road. "Someone was there. I saw someone in front-" her voice breaks as she tries to speak. "I thought- There was- I'm so sorry. I could've sworn," she glances back to the road where we nearly crashed to try and confirm what she saw was real.

Drowning in my own memories. Suffocating myself in fear. Blood drips onto my leg from the nails that sink themselves into my palms. A heart buried deep into my stomach, trying to claw itself back up with each beat. Trapped by a knot wound within my gut. The gasp of air my lungs struggle for, itching against my throat, yet is caught by the threat of a scream that refuses to let out.

My eyes burn with visions, tears threatening but never falling.

It isn't until I catch a glimpse of him in the side mirror of the car for my panic to pause to register his presence.

I would recognize his eyes anywhere.

Then everything releases.

Get out.

My breath releases in heavy pants, quickening after each. My body loses control itself, pawing to break out of the unmoving car. The distant noise of Levena calling my name, concern rising with her voice. The restraint of her arms forcing me back inside as I claw against the doorframe, trying to yank myself free. My voice begs to let go, pleading to be left alone.

Managing to loosen her grasp against me, I take it as my opportunity to thrust myself forward, plunging myself into the concrete road. Bringing myself onto my feet just as fast, my body hurls itself onwards before making contact with a guard rail, the metal biting into my bloody palms.

Below me, a forest expanding across. The same painful tingling returns. Familiarity replacing the horror that resides in my body only moments ago. The whispers now deafening in my mind.

A hand presses against my shoulder, forcing my gaze to break away from the endless trees to spot Levana edging towards me. Her eyes filled with concern, moving towards me as if I was a wild animal, prepared to run at the first threat of human contact. Though her eyes never tore from mine, she was still a distance away.

But whose hand did I feel?

Do not fear the darkness. The wolves urge me from below. My head turning back to the forest, a compulsion in my body to come forward. You will learn the truth soon enough.

"Serelia," Levana advances closer. "Are you okay?"

Without a second to think, my head shakes before speaking. "No."

That is all I need to break out of any trace freezing itself onto my body for me to run. Avoiding Levana's hand that tries to stop me from dashing past her, I run.

Snaking through the town, my lungs burning for a breath of the fresh that beats against my face and dances through my hair. But every attempt of breath is stopped by a harsh stone that presses against my neck.

Coming upon my house, my legs don't waver as they rush through and sprint upstairs. Even with the warmth that spreads across the house, mixed with the heated adrenaline that pours through me, a coldness latches itself to my skin.

My feet stumble upon themselves, a threat with each step to collapse. Shoving the door open that barricades my bedroom, almost breaking the wood off of its hinges, my body finally gives into the weight of fear and drops. My knees thud onto the planks below. The only sound from the sharp intakes of breath that strain against my heart. Tears that were scorching my eyes now make their descent across my face. My hands strangling my neck, before pushing through my hair and clenching into fists.

"What is wrong with me?" The sentence struggles against a single breath.

My sight catches onto a mirror resting upon the floor besides me, my eyes locking onto the mourning green reflecting back. His green.

Your mother almost killed you. Your father abandoned you. Your nightmares plague you. The whispers never leave you. Why do you even try to fight it? Telling yourself you're not mad. That you can find a happy future for yourself. That you won't become another statistic of the world that no one will try to remember. What is your point in trying?

A scream pierces the air. A scream so loud it causes a raging ring in my eardrums. A scream so powerful it bleeds through my throat as it escapes into the world.

Every ounce of pain releasing into the single sound. All my anxiety, my fears, my memories making their escape. Any chaos of my life matching itself into my oppressing scream.

My nails trace into my thighs, blood tracking across tan. My body lurches forward, my stomach curdling the nausea that boils inside from the pressure of the scream. My eyelids stitching themselves shut and a wetness staining across my mouth and chin as saliva and tears pool out. My brain bashing against my skull as my head violently shakes, my hair stringing across my face.

"I can't do this, anymore." I haul my body upwards, my head now facing the ceiling, pleading with whatever heavens and hells exist to please end this suffering.

Lowering my sight, it catches onto the fallen mirror beside me. My hands pounce towards it, seizing the cold glass before thrusting it against the wall ahead. Another fleeting wail fleeing from my lips as the glass shatters on impact.

Then, with one glance, one look into a piece of fragmented reflection, reality slips away from my fingertips before I ever had a chance to catch it.

Everything I've ever known, ever believed, disappearing into the dark depths of insanity. My mind submerging into the glass, tearing itself at the reflection looking back, there is no use trying to recognize what is real anymore.

A stillness washes over me, my breathing slowing as I focus on the image looking back.

My face has already been unrecognizable to itself. Yet despite the sullen bags that tug against my cheeks and the knotted hair on top of my head, the peculiar green of my eyes has always been constant.

Now they're changed. And though I can clearly see myself in the mirror, it is not my eyes looking back. My eyes.

They're golden.

*** 

Pictured at Top : Verena Herou

Until then,

-Xxx