Shatter

Chapter 4: Melissa

"It's you," I croaked. "What do you want? What have I ever done to you?"

When he spoke, my breathing was cut off as if there was no air. "I want everything. Everything that you have." His voice was chilling and freezing like ice, hitting me with an invisible force. "Everything." He walked closer. My skin bristled with fear, and my blood ran cold. The man's voice dropped to a whisper. "Your life. Everything."

Gently, he touched my chin with his fingers, with that cruel black hand. He tilted my chin to face him, forcing me to look into his eyeless face. "I want what I need. And I will take it."

There was a powerful gust of wind, and he was gone.

I fell to the ground with a sharp gasp. The hard stone path. A small pool of water.

Water.

It was a reflection. Like a mirror. 

I came back to reality. My breathing was shallow. The man was never there. Or was he? Was he real? Or was I really hallucinating out of fear?

"Luna!" Carmen's voice jerked me out of my thoughts. "Where did you go? You were talking, and then you were gone... disappeared from thin air...." She shook her head. "Where did you go?? You scared the hell out of me."

"That man," I said. "He was here again." 

Carmen shook her head. "No one was here."

I swore under my breath. "I'm not hallucinating! I saw him. I did. I swear to God—he's real." 

"He's real in your head," Carmen reassured gently. "Not in reality. There's a border between thoughts and reality."

Her voice was calming. It was always that way. 

Carmen soothed people easily simply by talking to them. It was like her lungs was an instrument. 

"I know that, but—but it doesn't stop him from being somewhere." I whispered. "He's there. Always there. And I can't escape from him." I wanted to lash out into space, and kill whatever horrific monsters were there. 

Carmen sighed. "We need to move on, Lunes. We can't just stay here." 

And so we moved on, walking down the path, deeper and deeper into the centre of the forest. 

~

It was morning. Thankfully, the weather was nice and there were no clouds in sight; only the sun was there. 

And then I realized: we were alive. We didn't get killed in the night. 

Soon, we exited the what seemed like a never-ending forest. I took off my bag and rummaged through it, looking for the food I stole from the cafeteria. Sandwiches, energy bars, cans of food, dried fruits and meat, nothing special. It was just something to last us for at least a week or so. 

I offered a piece of dried meat to Carmen, but she shook her head. 

We walked on. 

~

When it was late afternoon and our feet were sore from walking, I saw in the distance a little cottage. Smoke rose from the chimney, signalling that there was someone in there. It seemed so comforting... so safe. It seemed small, with a dramatically tilted roof and a small well beside it, and it was surrounded by growing plants and flowers. 

"Carmen, there's a cottage over there." I said, excited. 

Carmen looked suspiciously at it. "You're not implying that we should go into it, are you?"

"I am," I said. "It's a place to stay! Maybe it's safe."

Carmen looked doubtful. "Your hopes are too high, Lunes. We have no idea who lives in there. I don't know where we are."

"We'll try," I said, slightly irritated at her unwillingness to budge, "We can run if we have to."

"You think it's that simple? Now these days people aren't idiots."

I groaned. "Fine. I'll go inside myself." 

Carmen's eyes widened in disbelief, but said nothing. 

I headed down to the cottage with Carmen trailing hesitantly behind me. Soon, we arrived at a little bridge we had to cross in order to approach it. When we were there, I knocked on the door. 

A girl around our age opened the door. "Um, hello. How may I help you?" 

She was around our age, but her eyes were fierce and intimidating, and sapphire blue. Her face was pale, as if she had just watched a horror movie, and she had dark chocolate brown hair. 

"We're looking for a place to stay," I said in the voice I used to charm adults, not sure if it would work on the girl. "We've been walking for about a day now."

The girl's face softened with sympathy. "Sure, come in. My name is Evangeline." She hesitated, then added in a whisper, "Ignore my mother, please. She's a fortune-teller, and can be a bit weird." 

Evangeline opened the door wide, and I stepped in. Carmen lingered behind, her face filled with suspicion. 

The cottage was a warm little place, as if you were living in a soft winter blanket. It was small, with two couches and a fireplace. Bookshelves lined up along all the walls, filled with books of all sizes. There was a little ladder, and when I looked up, it seemed to lead to a couple of rooms... bedrooms, perhaps? 

"Evangeline, what do you have here?" asked a voice. It was deep, and rumbled like thunder. 

"Mother, these are two girls I met outside. They need a place to stay."

I kept my head down, and when I brought it up, I didn't expect what I saw. 

She was like an old lady... if that wasn't an offensive phrase. Her face was crumpled and wrinkled. 

But that wasn't the thing that surprised me the most—I've seen her before. Somewhere. Maybe it was when I was still a child, when I went strolling down to the marketplace, or maybe she was a caregiver who took care of me. But I've seen her before. I have. 

We stared at each other for a long time, taking some time to recognize each other; we knew each other for some strange reason, and we both knew it. 

Memories flashed in my head, some blurred like an old television screen, and some as clear and sharp as a knife that pierced through my memory. They flew past like a video going in fast-motion, like a cyclist riding in the wind. Some nearly brought tears to my eyes and fold down and crumple like a paper doll in misery, like when I lost my parents. Some brought joy to my heart, enlightening it with love and admiration. 

But then, it finally set on it. 

"Darling, where are your parents?" she asked. 

"Gone," I sniffled. 

"Oh no, where have they gone?"

"Into the heavens!" the young me wailed. "Help me, please!" I clung onto the lady's arm. 

Then the memories flashed to another one: 

I was in a cottage. I was sitting in front of a table, with oatmeal in a ceramic bowl. 

"Call me Melissa," the lady said. "When you grow older, you'll always be welcome here." 

And after that, I was back into reality. "Melissa?" I asked with a degree of uncertainty. "Is it really you?" 

"Luna? What are you doing here?" She stood up. "It's been forever since I've seen you, how are you, darling? Tell me everything that happened ever since we last met." 

Melissa took me and Carmen to a wooden table, the same one that I had sat at years ago. She brought us some tea, and we sat down. 

I told her everything: from the plain orphanage life I lived to the man in the mirror.