And then I wake up.

~

[This chapter contains direct depictions of abuse and mentions of suicide.]

I was in the middle of a sidewalk. A cold, frozen morning, every surface and crevasse fluffed and white with the thick and bizarre frost, giving the world an eerie, yet tranquil look.

I wore a thick, blue winter jacket that had some of its stuffing poking out on the side, and looking down at myself, I was a striking difference against the endless frosty winter white.

Normally these kinds of walks to school are therapeutic to me. Looking at this warped reality is gorgeous and almost ethereal, plus I just enjoy walking in general. It's my clear my head time. Definitely no way I could ever get a car, and I live in a small town anyways, so I just stick with my two feet - besides, they've got great gas mileage.

But again, it's normally serene. Today marked two weeks since the last time I'd seen Gabriel, and I was terrified thinking what could have happened to her, where she could have gone, and why I didn't hear anything about it.

What was worse was that my mom was out in another state doing a presentation on workplace safety after my dad died. She got paid a lot for it. But I didn't have a phone or anything of the sort, so as far as Gabe was concerned, I was completely in the dark.

So, whereas normally these walks helped me de-stress, the eerie blankness of everything only added to the sinking hole in my stomach that made it feel like I would never see Gabriel again.

Perhaps even that might have been less terrifying than what I found sprawled out in the middle of the road only a minute later as I turned the corner and heard muffled crying.

It was Gabriel, laying on the asphalt in the middle of the small, icy road, her whole face red and tears coming down her face. But she was... halfway out of a wheelchair.

"Gabriel!" I shouted as I threw off my backpack and dashed across the ice-covered street.

She stopped crying immediately as soon as she heard me, and when I reached her, she averted her eyes towards the ground and froze as though she were a statue and I would merely assume she was some strange decór and move along.

"Are you okay?" I asked instinctively, though the answer to that question may have been a little more on the obvious side.

She was halfway out of a wheelchair, which was not there when I last saw her two weeks ago. Both of her legs had casts sticking out of her way-too-short pants.

"Don't look at me," she barely whimpered out.

I was terrified. Likely measures upon measures less so than she was, but I could barely stand from thinking about what could have possibly happened in the last two weeks.

I didn't respond to her, and simply hooked my arms under her armpits and gently dragged her to the sidewalk so she was at least not in the road and on the ground anymore, then went to grab her wheelchair and bring it back.

"Please stop," she begged, as her tears began again.

I didn't listen. I knew she was just scared of me rejecting her. I also just didn't know how to respond. Everything I was doing was just autopilot.

After that, I helped sit her up and get her situated in her chair, the whole while she looked away, embarrassed and unable to look me in the eye, visibly shaking all over.

"It's okay," I said, trying to console her.

"Please... go away."

"It's okay," I reassured her.

I wiped the tears from her face and stood in front of her.

She tried to look away again.

"Hey, look at me."

Gabriel slowly turned her head towards me and looked me in my eyes, hers filling with tears, and mine doing the same.

I reached towards her neck and a little under her shirt, gripping a warm, metal object. It was her necklace, and I pulled it out over her shirt and held it out in front of her face, doing the same with my own necklace.

"Hey, everyone needs a friend, right?" I said with a smile as I blinked away the tears forming in my vision.

She smiled, not having the energy to laugh.

I ended up bringing her to my house. After I filled my very startled mother in, she didn't have any issues with calling me off of school for the day, making some cocoa, and letting me tend to Gabriel.

She shouldn't have been at school anyways - both of her legs were broken, and probably need surgery, but her dad won't pay for it, probably can't. He wasn't even there for her at the hospital. Nobody was.

That's something I still can't forgive myself for.

My room was at the top of the stairs, so I ended up having to carry my best friend up like a bride, which made the both of us smile, as scary as it was seeing her like this.

We didn't do anything that day. I just let her talk about what happened. She had stories upon stories to tell about the hospital, about one of her nurses who I swear she might have fallen in love with, about all the tests and other things she had to go through.

How she got in that situation? Her dad. The man drove drunk on a rainy night on the highway. You know how that song and dance goes.

They got in a nasty wreck. The other driver got some broken bones and a concussion. Gabriel got broken legs, collapsed lungs, a concussion, internal bruising, and lost the use of anything below her waist. She was paralyzed.

They kept her in intensive care for days because she was having seizures, and then she stayed in the hospital for almost a week after that.

The worst part was that her dad got off with a minor broken rib and some cuts and scrapes.

Gabriel and I had been through everything together up until that point. She was my sister. And I promised myself without the slightest flap of an eyelash that I would be there for her for everything.

My mom did the same.

We stayed home a few more days. Watched some movies, drank lots of cocoa, made some homemade eggnog, and made sure Gabriel felt like she was going to be okay.

...

But eventually, we did have to go back to school.

~

I was the one wheeling Gabriel through the high school halls. Both of us were practically shaking with nerves when we came up to the doors, and it was no better as we went through the halls and people we knew were left and right, looking at us, at Gabriel, in horror.

Most people didn't know what to say or what to do. Nobody said a word. Some jaws dropped, other people looked away, some just stared, but nobody bothered to say hi.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As we got towards our first class, more and more familiar faces passed by, until we saw a cluster of people I wanted to avoid at all costs (but would have no choice but to pass).

I was, on the one hand, thankful that I didn't have to deal with Charlotte anymore, but it was almost like she passed on a baton.

Gabriel noticeably tensed, grabbing one of my hands.

Most of these people were in a lot of our classes. Some of them stared or covered their mouths. Angelina, with her face plastered in a centimeter of makeup, scoffed and looked at Gabriel with disgust, almost like her state was offensive and disgraceful.

I merely wheeled Gabriel on to try to protect her, hoping with everything I had these people would come to their senses and give her a break. But there's no sense in being that optimistic.

As I passed, I heard quiet snickers. "Cripple pusher," someone whispered in their friend's ear, directed at me, and I could then hear the both of them choke down a laugh.

Since class was still a few minutes away, I brought the two of us into a little inlet where a maintenance door was at the end. It was the school version of hiding in a dark alleyway.

Gabe and I took deep breaths each as she held back tears, and I did the same.

"We'll be alright," I reassured. She nodded and smiled weakly as she held out the closed locket of her necklace. Just like always, I did the same thing.

"Everyone needs a friend," she said, motioning for me to get closer to her, and when I did, she gave me a hug.

We were interrupted by a booming voice echoing up the stairwell right by us. But not the good kind of booming voice. It felt almost villainous and sinister, like how the red-eyed villain gets introduced in a movie with their face all shadowed.

That's what I pictured when I heard Keith's laugh as he walked in our direction. We were in an inlet where it would be hard to see us, but that didn't stop me from feeling like he would.

He and his friend walked just past the inlet, then stopped. I could only see the backs of their shoes, but Keith stopped talking, then said, "My bad," and turned around and walked back in the other direction.

Angelina definitely said something.

He went down the stairs again and came back up about a minute later when the bell rang. I figured it best to hold off for a moment to avoid the impenetrable horde of people. Just as the people thinned out a little, I went to wheel Gabriel out in the halls to take us to class, but of course, a big, muscular man - Keith - entered the corner of my vision.

I abruptly stopped and waited for him to pass, but before I could blink, his hands were thrown up in the air and he was sliding forward, like the world was in slow motion.

He slipped on something, and his legs were headed directly for the wheelchair, and all I could do was watch.

His head hit the ground, and his feet slammed into the center of Gabriel's shins. Except that's where she'd broken her legs.

The brute scrambled to his feet and grunted out a half-assed, snotty, entirely insincere "sorry," and left to class. All color drained from Gabe's face as her breath left her.

She whimpered, then grabbed my arm and screamed into it so nobody would hear as a raging river of tears streamed down her face. She'd been cursed by some freak accident to not be able to use her legs, but to feel them in some places, and those places are all the worst ones.

I cursed up a storm inside, feeling murderous intent building up within me. Keith didn't slip. That was on purpose. Nobody slips like that. Especially not him.

But there's quite literally nothing I could do about it, and that fact eats me up inside.

They used to like Gabriel, too. At least until she started hanging out with me all the time and standing up for me. Then she got it just as bad. And now look where that got us. Look where that got her.

I remember now. The feeling of bottomless hatred. The feeling of endless, unprecedented, hate.

The fist-clenching, blood-boiling, teeth-grinding realization that these people are pure evil. And the defeating, empty void of a feeling that follows when I realize...

There's still nothing I can do about it.

Because Gabriel is already dead.

Her abusive deadbeat father got drunk and paralyzed his daughter and left her alone in the hospital. Of course CPS got involved.

They put her in foster. For a while she was able to stay in town and things went on like normal. But eventually they found her a new permanent home, only one across the country.

Gabriel couldn't bear to part with the last people she could consider family, so she took her life. Took too many sleeping pills and never woke up again.

She left a note. I used to keep it in my pocket. It was faded and barely readable. Not that I needed to read it... you usually remember someone's last words pretty clearly.

It was a poem, since she loved poetry so much.

I have these dreams that I'm free.

I live among elves and fairies, winged creatures that carry me to the skies in a body not my own.

I fall from the clouds, and as I plummet from the blue sky, I fear not the ground,

I smile as I spread my own wings, mystical, beautiful things that glide through the winds with grace and beauty

There are others that fly with me.

I have these dreams that I build a home.

From the sticks and stones of a forest of fire I forge a castle and kingdom,

Atop my hill, others stand among me, our hands bloodied and tired, yet our proud smiles and triumphant glares shining

I have these dreams that I'm free.

Then I wake up.

We used to dream together that some day we'd build our own kingdom in a fantasy world. A hopeless, stupid wish of two depressed children in need of serious mental help.

But a dream nonetheless.

I wonder what she'd think if she knew I was here now.

Guess I won't have to wait long to find out.

But... the part that sucked was knowing those pieces of shit would have their deeds live in the past rent-free.

The thought of the things they did and said to Gabriel flashed through my head again, and my blood nearly evaporated.

"Would revenge perhaps be sufficient enough reason to live on?" The deep voice from before drew me from my memories and back into the crimson throne room.

A feeling from deep within rose up and cut through my overwhelming doubts.

I don't want to die.

This isn't where it's supposed to end, just like it wasn't before.

Whatever this guy can give me, I'll take it. So I can kill them.

I'm sick of sick, twisted people manipulating and controlling those beneath them and getting away with it.

I'll make it my goal to cleanse the world of these parasites.

The man continued to gently sip his wine, patience clearly being something of great abundance to him.

"Fine," I stated dryly. "I'll take your offer."

A smirk grew on his face and he got up to walk toward me. I remained seated as he stuck out his hand.

"What do you want from me?" I demanded. "I doubt this comes for free."

He winked. "That will come later."

I scoffed. "Tch. Whatever."

With no more hesitation left in me, I shook his hand firmly, then finished off my wine.

"Hope your survive," he said, his voice echoing off into the distance.

~

A child's laugh echoed around me. The voice of me when I was little. I heard a distant echo of Gabriel's voice mixed in, as well as Lydia when she, too, was a child, and that of Myu.

I slowly began to see each of them. They had their hands interlocked and bright, close-eyed smiles upon their gleaming, laughter-filled faces as they skipped and galloped around me.

It was this endless nothing again. A place I now assumed to be... me. My consciousness. Everyone closes their eyes and wakes up in a vast empty nothingness, right? (Planet Earth doesn't count)

They eventually pranced off into the distance. I was left alone again in this void, at least until I turned around.

There stood a slender figure in a dirtied black suit. He had horns sticking out from his fluffy white hair, though different from that Caiasiara guy, and had a sort of angry look.

I didn't know who he was or what to say to him. Something about him was eerily familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

He started to walk towards me, somewhat with a purpose.

"What do you want?" I asked, fear creeping into my voice.

The man got right in front of me, then said, "Shut up," and reached out a bloodied hand.

He picked me up at the throat and raised me up like I weighed nothing. All alarms began to blare in my head, but it was way past too late for that to matter.

I kicked and thrashed but his grip was made of steel. Not only did my throat hurt, but I was terrified and could barely get air.

"Hgggkkckkk," was all I could muster out.

The man just kept holding me there, unblinking and unfazed as he continued to choke me. It felt like hours as my muscles grew tired and my lungs burned desperately. There wasn't time to ask what was happening because I was staring into deep, angry eyes, like he was trying kill me out of personal vendetta.

I freaked out like a mouse grabbed by its tail, but the corners of my vision began to blur and darken, and eventually my mind grew loopy as my thrashing subsided.

~

I opened my eyes, this time in reality. Alas, I was through with the mind games and illusions and meetings with Demon Kings.

A new fire burned within me. There was something changed. After Caiasiara told me my mind would be righted I assumed this overwhelming sense of conflict would go away, but my head felt cramped, like someone opened up my skull and squeezed too much brain in there.

Despite this, everything just seemed so much clearer.

More so than anything, my goal.

To get out of here. To kill.

My goal, is to kill.

And I am not letting a fucking soul stop me in my conquest to attain that.

I thought of the complexion of the angry man who choked me out. His conviction. His desire. His determination.

It made sense now.

I held out my hands for the phoenix, who flew from the top of the stone casket and into them, tilting its head to the side as though something about me was confusing to the creature.

Then felt something warm slide down and splash onto my arms and hands. Blood.

Then came another splash. And another. And another, until a near steady stream of blood was coming out of my nose.

Shit.