Someone shook Kylee’s shoulders, hard. Her head slammed forward, and she opened her eyes to see Price in front of her.
“Kylee, what’s wrong?” he said, his eyes wide with fear. “What’s happening?”
“He hurt me!” Kylee shoved off the bed, gasping and shaking so she could hardly stand. Red color flashed around the room, lightening and darkening as erratically as her heart beat. It took her a moment to realize it was her ring again. “He had a knife! I saw it!” She was pretty sure he’d kicked her hard enough to break a rib. He’d never beat her like that before. “I don’t understand. How could I forget that? How could I forget something like that?”
“Kylee.”
She lifted her eyes to Price. She’d almost forgotten him, and it took a moment to orientate herself to reality.
His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he fought tears. He grabbed her hands. “Listen. There’s something you need to know.”
Kylee looked at him, bewildered. “What’s going on?”
He looked at her hand in his. “Your ring is glowing.”
And burning. She glanced at it, at the electric blue and deep red coming from it. Questions. Answers. Kylee jerked her hand away, rubbing the palm on the backs of her pants. Her heart raced at Price’s words, a deep fear building in her core. “I don’t understand. What do I need to know?”
He squeezed the fingers of her other hand. “Kylee, you need to remember,” he whispered.
“Remember what?”
“I don’t want to tell you!” Price released her and covered his face.
Darkness crowded into her mind again, threatening to swallow up the light. Bill. Fists. The knife. The numbing cold lingered on the outskirts, an oppressive shadow, ready to climb in and take over.
Kylee bolted from Price’s room like a wild animal chased her.
She made it to the stairs before Price came running after her.
“Don’t go,” he said, sliding in front of her on the hardwood floor and blocking her exit. “Let’s face this together.” His bloodshot eyes made him look vulnerable, but his jaw was set, his expression determined.
“Face what?” Kylee whispered. She wanted to vomit. Her whole body quivered. She didn’t want to know.
He wiped her face with his thumb, coming away with tears on it. “Your death.”
She jerked away from him, her heart skipping a beat. Fear poured through her veins. “What?” Was he threatening her? Why? Did Bill say something to him? “Why are you saying that?”
“Listen.” He held his hands out. “I know, I know this is hard. It’s the way it is. You can’t change it. Just try to accept it.”
Her eyes stung, and she shook her head. “Why are you doing this to me? What’s in this for you?”
“Kylee, stop that.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
She choked back the tears. “Is this some sick social experiment from one of your classes? Did someone put you up to this?”
He furrowed his brow. “What?”
She tried to duck around him, but again he blocked her, grabbing her below the elbows. “Let me go or I’ll scream!” She pounded her fists against his shoulders, adrenaline racing through her.
“No one will hear you, Kylee.”
“Ahhh!” she screamed.
He didn’t move, though his lip twisted. “Would you calm down? You’re not helping anything!”
He was too strong. Kylee relaxed in his grip, letting her head drop forward while she sobbed. “Let me go. Let me go home.”
His hands tightened on her arms before letting go. The sudden release caught her off balance, and she grabbed the railing to keep from falling.
“Are you crazy, Kylee?” He backed away from her. “What are you thinking? It's me. I would never hurt you. I’m just telling you what happened.”
She squeezed the banister, trying to control her shaking. “What do you mean?” she whispered.
“Exactly what I said! You’re dead!”
“No, I’m not,” she screamed. Some of her panic cleared enough to realize he wasn’t threatening her. No, he was insane.
“I didn’t want to believe it either! I thought maybe they were wrong. Maybe your parents were hiding you. I couldn’t believe it.” He grabbed her arm, squeezed her wrist. “Especially after I felt you. Kissed you. How could you be dead?”
“I’m not,” Kylee sobbed, not wanting to hear anymore.
He kept talking right over her. “I spent hours at the library, reading news articles. They said you’d gone missing. When I first saw you, I thought you’d come home. But Michael told me you were still gone. And everyone believed you’d been killed, that blood had been found but never a body . . . and I realized the truth.”
“I’m not dead!” she screamed. The desperation in her voice made her wince. She needed him to believe her. Even more, she needed it to be true.
“But you are,” he whispered, releasing her arm. “You vanished three months ago. And no one has seen you since. No one except me.”
“No.” He’d dropped his arm enough to leave an opening to the stairs, and Kylee shoved past. “You’re wrong.”
She raced out the front door, and Price didn’t call after her. She sobbed the whole way back to her house, tears soaking her shirt. Why would he make up something so untrue and so cruel?
The answer was that he wasn’t making it up. He believed it.
She threw open the front door and burst into the house, sick and tired of the silence and the evasiveness. The TV buzzed in the living room, and Kylee stomped inside. “Bill.”
He was passed out in the La-Z Boy. Kylee kicked his leg. “Wake up!” she shouted. His head rolled and he murmured, but he didn’t wake. A piece of spittle clung to the scruff on his chin.
Kylee whirled around and stormed down the hall to her mom’s room.
The door was open. Her mom sat on the bed, staring at one of Bill’s shirts in her hand. The lamp in the corner illuminated the darkened room.
“Mom.” Kylee stopped in front of her and placed her hands on her hips. “Talk to me. Why is Bill under investigation? Are you mad at me?”
No response.
“Mom!” Kylee ripped Bill’s shirt out of her hands. Her mother gasped and looked up, focusing on the shirt. “Would you talk to me?” Kylee shouted, shaking the shirt at her mother.
Her mom stood up, her hands creeping along the bed covers. She backed away from Kylee, easing toward the door.
The wide eyes, the careful movements, the stepping backward, all indicated one thing: she was afraid. “Mom, it’s me,” Kylee whispered, putting the shirt down on the bed. She took the time to smooth it, fold it up. Her heart began to pound, and an ache formed in her throat. It couldn’t be. She took a step toward her mother. “Can’t you see me?”
But her mom’s eyes weren’t on her. They were on the shirt.
She can’t see me.
image [https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/story_images/big_c2b25a96ca51597e290662bb4bb575d4.jpeg]