I was there.
I wasn't asleep. I wasn't awake either. It felt like… floating in thick water. Like I was stuck somewhere between two worlds—my body heavy, dead weight, and my mind screaming inside.
I could hear them. All of them.
The sound of sobbing—soft and sharp like glass cracking.
My mom.
"Please, please wake up… baby, please."
Her voice was broken, almost unrecognizable. I'd never heard her sound like that in my entire life. Not even when we fought, not even when Julie hurt me. This… this was something else. A kind of desperation that made my heart feel like it was tearing apart.
I tried to move my fingers. Just a little twitch.
Nothing.
I wanted to say, Mom, I'm here.
Nothing.
I could hear Peter too. I couldn't see him, but I knew it was him. I'd recognize the way he breathes anywhere. That uneven, nervous, too-fast breathing like he was holding back from crying, but doing a terrible job at it.
And then—
His hand.
I felt it. On mine. Warm. Trembling. Careful, like I'd shatter.
Peter.
He didn't say anything at first. Just held my hand. His thumb brushed against my knuckles over and over, like a rhythm meant to keep me alive.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "I should've been with you. I should've seen it coming."
No, Peter. It's not your fault.
But I couldn't say it. Couldn't even blink.
And then the doctor's voice. Calm, but not hopeful.
"She's stable for now, but the internal bleeding is bad. Very bad."
Footsteps. A folder flipping open.
"There are fifty-two lacerations across her torso, arms, and legs. But no weapon. It's as if something inside her… did it."
The room went silent.
No one knew what to say.
I wanted to scream. They're right. It WAS inside. It's been inside me for years. It's getting stronger. It wants out.
My heart was beating fast, but I couldn't move. I could feel tears on my cheeks, but I wasn't sure if they were mine… or someone else's falling onto me.
"I can't lose her," my mom said again. "I can't…"
Another voice. Chloe this time. Broken, hoarse.
"She's not gone. She's just… stuck."
I wanted to reach for her too. For both of them.
Then Peter's voice again, closer to my ear now.
"Remember the first time we kissed?" he whispered, voice shaking. "You said you didn't know if it was real… that it felt too perfect. But it was real. This—us—it's real. So you have to come back. Okay? Just hold on, Em."
My chest hurt. My stomach felt like it was burning. The cuts were deep, I could feel them even without feeling. Like something inside me had exploded. Like I was bleeding from places that didn't even exist.
I heard the machines beep faster.
More people rushed in. The nurse said something about another drop in blood pressure.
"She's losing more blood," someone said. "But there's no open wound. Where's it going?"
Where's it going? Tell me if you find out.
I wanted to laugh.
I wanted to cry.
But I was still stuck.
Still drowning.
Still bleeding.
Still trying to come back.
I felt something.
It started like a dull warmth in my chest. Then heat. Then fire.
Everything around me turned red. Blinding. Like I was inside my own body… but it wasn't mine anymore. It was burning. Every inch of it. Every cell.
I screamed.
"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?"
The walls around me melted into flames. And then… in the middle of it all, standing tall, calm, and horrifyingly graceful—was a girl.
She wore a soft pink gown, elegant and ancient, flowing like it belonged to another century. 1800s? No. Maybe even older. The fabric danced with the fire but didn't burn.
She stood with her back to me.
"Hey!" I shouted. "Who the hell are you?!"
No answer.
I took a step forward, the flames licking at my legs but not hurting me.
"What are you burning?!"
Finally, she spoke. Her voice was soft, almost kind. Too kind.
"This?" she said without turning. "This is your heart. Your body. I'm burning it."
My breath caught in my throat.
"No," I whispered. "Stop. Stop it."
I tried running to her, but it was like running in a dream—you move, but you get nowhere. Every time I got closer, she slipped further.
"I said STOP!" I screamed. "I have people waiting for me. My mom, my friends—Peter, Chloe—they're waiting!"
She didn't move. Not a step. But then, slowly, slowly… she turned.
And my blood ran colder than the flames were hot.
It was me.
Her face… it was mine. But not mine. Her eyes were darker, too still. Her smile—tilted with something wicked. And ancient. Something that had seen pain and carried it like a weapon.
"You know me," she said. "I am you. Or the you that you locked away."
My knees nearly buckled.
"No. No, you're not me."
She tilted her head.
"You have powers. Powers beyond this time. Beyond this body. If you can control them, you can do anything. But you can't unless I help you. Just say yes. Let me out."
I shook my head furiously. "You're the one causing this! You stabbed me—52 times. You made me bleed from the inside."
She laughed.
"I didn't stab you. You did. I was trying to come out. But your resistance… it made the pain worse. I didn't want to hurt you. But I will if I must. Because when I'm free—"
Her voice dropped, dangerous.
"—I will be alive again. I will finish what was never completed. I will get my revenge on those who burned me, tortured me, killed me."
I gasped. "You're… from the past. The girl in my dreams. You're her."
"I was her," she said. "But now I'm you. I've lived in your blood. Your pain. I am the power inside you, and you're just a shell."
"No," I spat. "You're not me. You're a parasite. You want to use my body to hurt people."
"They hurt me first!" she shouted, suddenly furious. "They burned me alive for loving someone they hated. They tore my life apart. They made me a monster. I only want justice."
"And what about my life?" I screamed. "My friends? My mom? Peter? Chloe?"
Her eyes flashed. "Collateral."
I shook my head, tears spilling over.
"I won't let you. I won't hurt the people I love to heal a rage that's not even mine. I don't care if it's justice or vengeance. You won't touch them."
"You think you have a choice?" she hissed, stepping forward. The flames rose higher around us. "You've already bled because of me. I've already made you collapse. How long before they give up on you? How long before they're scared of you?"
"I don't care if they're scared," I said through clenched teeth. "As long as they're safe."
She narrowed her eyes. "You'll say yes eventually. Because if you don't let me out by will… I'll make the pain so unbearable that you'll beg me to take control."
I stood taller, my whole body trembling.
"I'd rather burn with you inside me than let you hurt anyone."
Her smile dropped.
"You'll regret this," she said. "When you lose everything. Remember this moment."
Then the flames swallowed her whole—and I was falling again.
Falling.
Back toward my body.
Back toward the pain.
Back toward the ones waiting, praying, crying.
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