The demon ripped its way out of her body again, sharp claws choking her, something smothering her face, and Ava couldn’t breathe. She struggled in the darkness of her bedroom. She pushed away at the thing smothering her face and instead of seeing the demon she saw Mark’s chubby face, a sly grin on his face, and Ava started awake.
“Elizabeth!” she gasped, confused at first. She remembered Elizabeth kissing her now, her lips soft on her own, her hands trembling as she clutched Ava’s face, and Ava had pushed away, scared and confused and just wanting to go home, and Elizabeth’s face had fallen.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth whispered. “Ava. I shouldn’t have done that. Not now. I’m sorry, hon.”
Ava had escaped the car without a word, stumbling as she walked up her driveway. “Ava!” Elizabeth had called after her, but Ava had ignored her, and then her parents and before that Mark, and Ava felt sick.
She lay on top of her blankets, still in her clothes, her long hair wet. She needed to escape, to get away from the memories of Mark and her parents and how scared Elizabeth’s kiss had made her feel.
She wanted to go to the abandoned amusement park. She didn’t care what time of night it was or what her parents would say. It was where she was going no matter what.
Ava stood up and stumbled and the world spun and she felt sick, like she was going to projectile vomit all over her bedroom floor. She had to make it to the bathroom. She remembered Mark all over her, touching her, putting his dick inside her and how much it had hurt. Outside her bedroom the hallway was dark and silent—the entire house was still, which thankfully meant her parents were sleeping. Downstairs she made it to the bathroom and the toilet bowl just in time to projectile vomit. Her vomit was red, and then she was just puking up bile and her head throbbed in pain. She needed some Tylenol.
Ava stood, clutching her throbbing head and wiping off her mouth. She flushed the toilet. The bright lights of the bathroom hurt her eyes. She opened the medicine cabinet, took out the Tylenol, amongst the other sea of medicines, and dry swallowed four of them. Then she brushed her teeth.
Why had she run away when Elizabeth had kissed her? Why had that scared her so much? It shouldn’t have. She should have just spent the night at Elizabeth’s house instead of coming home, where her mom had said those awful things to her.
Ava tiptoed to the kitchen and her boots and bag. She looked at her phone, even if the light hurt her eyes, and saw she had four new text messages—one from Mark and three from Elizabeth.
She couldn’t read them right now.
Ava put on her boots and put on a black hoodie she had over one of the kitchen chairs. She checked to make sure her keys were in her bag, and trying to be as quiet as possible she left her house, not caring, really, if her parents heard her start her car and leave. They were already pissed and ashamed of her anyway, and the shame Ava felt herself made her feel like she would spew again.
Outside it was chilly, so Ava was happy she’d put on a hoodie. Inside her car Ava put her bag on the passenger seat and fumbled in it for her pack of cigarettes. She took one out, lit it, started her car and backed out of the driveway, and Ava began her journey.
#
Ava had a slight obsession with abandoned places. She watched YouTube after YouTube video of them. It didn’t matter the place—house, business, psychiatric ward, amusement parks. She found them all fascinating, and it was actually how her and Elizabeth had initially bonded. They’d met at the college library, tall stacks of bookshelves hovered over them, and Ava had been loading up her arms with books on abandoned places, and Elizabeth had been there, in the same aisle, bright red hair in a braid and beautiful green eyes, and she’d smiled at Ava. “Need help?” she’d asked. “You have an awful lot of books there.”
And Ava did. She thought at any second she’d drop them all. “Um… I think so,” she’d said, or something equally awkward, and Elizabeth had helped her, and it turned out she’d been heading to the same aisle, to look up the same thing, and they’d joked about how Ava had been about to steal all the books she’d wanted. They’d chatted in the library all afternoon, and Ava learned that they were the same age, 19, had equally religious fanatical parents, and both planned on transferring to the same four year campus in two years. They’d gone out for coffee after the library and over caramel lattes—they both liked the same drink—had chatted some more, before Ava had said she needed to go home because her parents were expecting her.
It was Elizabeth who had asked they exchange phone numbers. It was best friends from the beginning really.
Ava was thrilled when she’d gotten home and found a text from Elizabeth already, asking her if she wanted to go to a movie on Friday night, some comedy movie, where they’d laughed and eaten buttered popcorn and Junior mints, and Ava had realized she’d developed a crush on Elizabeth, but had written in her journal that she could never let anyone know about it.
She’d been meaning to show Elizabeth the abandoned amusement park just out of town, but it was her own secret place, and she’d never gotten the chance.
#
Ava smoked and drove, her head spinning, not listening to any music because it made her head ache. She tried not to think about Mark as she drove, her headlights lighting up darkened streets and not quite reaching the shadows in between houses. Soon her headlights lit up nothing but forest on either side, dark and foreboding in the silent night.
She parked and stumbled out of her car, grabbing her bag, and shoving her phone and pack of cigarettes and lighter in it.
She’d never come here this late.
The forest was dark and silent around her, only broken by the rustling of the wind through the tree branches above and Ava’s boots crunching over the dried leaves on the narrow trail she followed, illuminated only by the flashlight on her phone. She walked as quickly as she could, having come this way many times before and almost knowing the trail by heart, but walking was difficult with her spinning, aching head. She hoped she wouldn’t projectile vomit again.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
She didn’t know what she was thinking. It was too late to come here. Only druggies came here this late at night, leaving their used needles laying all over the ground, and the police patrolled, but Ava needed to escape. She never wanted to go back.
She came to the overgrown chain link fence that surrounded the park, but someone from a long time ago had cut a hole in the bottom of it.
Ava pushed her bag through first, and then maneuvered herself through it, the action making her even more sick. She stood up, brushing dirt and dried leaves off her skirt, and swung her bag back over her shoulder, again taking out her phone to use it for the tiny bit of light the flashlight on it provided.
“Better than nothing,” she muttered to herself.
It was called Wonderland back in the 50’s, but had been closed due to lack of funding or something like that, and here it had sat, since then, the forest slowly overgrowing it. The rides decaying to rust and neglect. Ava followed a narrow trail, walking slowly over weeds and leaves and broken cement. She came to the last remnants of the huge, wooden rollercoaster that had once stood right in the middle of the park, but was now decaying and covered with overgrowth. She walked up the rusted steps to the main platform, careful not to trip on the steps.
The platform was made of metal and rusted. The train cars still sat on their metal track, forgotten and covered with rust and overgrowth, narrowly illuminated by Ava’s phone flashlight.
There was a train car she always sat in. It smelled of mold and forgotten things, but Ava loved the spot. She would sit there and journal for hours, until the sun began setting in the sky.
She’d never been here this late at night though.
She sat down in it now.
A book rested in the seat next to it, narrow and thick, words on it indescribable in the darkness and from the flashlight on her phone.
“This is strange,” she said out loud, into the silence and rust.
What was a random book doing here?
She picked it up. It felt wet and heavy. And then something very weird began happening. First she heard faint carnival music and smelled hot dogs and fried donuts, and then out the corners of her vision she saw colorful lights. The safety bar on the seat came down, so tight it hurt her legs, and Ava tried to stand without any luck. That safety bar was down too tight. The world spun. She heard the ride start up, the rattle of old rusted chains, and Ava felt sick, certain she was going to die. She saw the landing, all lit up, like it must have looked in the 50’s. She heard laughing and talking over the music. She saw the railway ahead of her, and the train car she sat in flared into light—no more rust or musty seat, paint on it fresh and blue and purple.
Ava’s stomach lurched and she thought she’d be sick again. Was she still drunk? What had Mark given her? Some sort of psychedelic?
The ride started up and moved forward, with so much force the handlebar dug into her stomach. Chain rattles creaked as the ride spun in a circle and she was riding the train car up to the steep drop she knew was coming. Lights flickered. She heard squeals of laughter. But the ride was old and forgotten and broken! It was in disrepair! She was going to die! The ride circled again, and the first drop appeared before her.
Everything darkened.
Time seemed to stand still.
Ava clutched the book and her bag and her phone, the light on it lighting up the bright blue and purple of the train car.
And then she was going downwards.
Ava couldn’t help screaming.
Inertia made her stomach lurch again and she willed herself not to puke.
The ride twisted and turned and Ava saw fog that made her chilled, and goosebumps exploded on her arms, beneath her sweater. Warm air washed over her face, and the light brightened, became softer and warmer, despite the fog. And Ava had the feeling she’d entered an alternate dimension, or a different world, or some different place. The ride squealed to a halt, into light and fog, and the handlebar crushed her stomach.
Not good for her nausea.
Faint relief washed over her when she realized she was still alive at least.
Her legs trembled.
The ride sputtered and died and the handlebar came up.
Everything looked foggy and gray.
The landing was lit though. The light dim through the fog.
And a girl stood at the control booth. She was gaunt, features razor sharp. She was anorexic thin and wore a long, flowy green blouse over holey light blue jeans. Her hair was long and knotty and bright pink, down to her waist. She looked otherworldly and like a strong wind would blow her away. She blinked at Ava, and her eyes were a startingly, beautiful purple. She frowned.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded.
Ava managed to stand and the world spun and she thought she’d fall over. She put her phone in her bag and clutched that strange book to her chest.
She didn’t think she’d be able to speak. What was happening?
She stepped off the ride, metal hard under her boots.
The girl eyed her, and then her eyes seemed to travel down to the book Ava held in her shaky hands. The girl’s purple eyes widened and something like panic seemed to cross her face.
“What are you doing with that book?” she asked. “I was trying to get rid of it!”
Ava tried to swallow. Her mouth was dry. “W-what just happened?” she managed to say.
“We have to send it back!”
The girl approached her, then recoiled.
“What are you? Are you—” she seemed to lose her voice for a second. “Are you what the book described as a mortal, from the world where the rivers flow sweet blood?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” said Ava.
“I destroyed the controls,” the girl whispered. “I can’t send it back. What have you done!”
“I don’t know!” said Ava. Destroyed the controls? Rivers of blood? What was this girl talking about?
“You have to go back! If my sisters—” the girl’s voice trailed off. “Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Ava.” Ava’s head pounded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! What are you talking about?”
The girl frowned, lips pale on her gaunt face. And tight. When had this girl had her last meal? Ava felt like she was about to go into hysterics, and she wasn’t an hysterical girl. She hadn’t gone hysterical when Mark had touched her. She had to remain calm. This had to be all some drug and alcohol induced dream. Maybe she really was sleeping and had never gone to the abandoned amusement park. That had to be it. “
Give me the book,” demanded the girl, approaching her.
Ava stepped back.
“No,” she said.
“Give it to me!” the girl’s voice rose a few octaves, like she was about to go into hysterics too.
Ava clutched the book tighter, like it was her lifeline back into reality.
This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t fucking real! It couldn’t be real!
“Give it to me!” Now the girl practically screamed it, voice high and shrill and loud in the silence of the dimly lit landing. Her lips matched the color of the swirling fog.
If she got any closer Ava would kick her. She knew how to defend herself, and this girl looked easy to hurt. Though Ava preferred not to hurt her. She had a feeling that girl and this book were the links back to her reality.
"No!” Ava screamed back.
“Shut up.” Now the girl whispered it.
“Well, well,” said a sudden, deep voice. A huge man stood on the landing, face ugly and covered with greasy facial hair that matched his greasy head hair. He had a huge, hairy beer gut. A mountain man. Ava thought she would start laughing.
“Oh shit,” muttered the girl.
And then the ugly, big, greasy man in need of a shower threw something at them that emitted a green cloud of gas. It smelled like a bad fart. Ava tried not to breathe it in. But the world grew dark, and she was spinning, downwards and downwards, into blackness.