They both laugh, and Perfect Teeth moves closer. I feel her hot breath on my cheek as she whispers, “Don’t you know we swallow your screams, little girl? No one can hear you. Only us, and it makes us feel so good. The more you scream the more powerful we become.” Her purple eyes shine wickedly.
I can only watch helplessly as she dangles her fingers in front of my face.
“Interesting that she can’t move,” she murmurs to her partner.
“Guess she has some issues. I expected a fight, but she just froze up.”
“Interesting,” Perfect Teeth repeats.
I hear their words, but they make no sense. I shake my head.
“What do you want?” My voice is barely more than a whimper.
They both laugh again. Perfect Teeth slides her boney hand under the sleeve of my cloak, and down the entire length of my bare arm. Fiery razorblades of burning acid slice open my skin.
I know I’m screaming in agony, but I hear nothing except the sound of their laughter.
The pain is excruciating, unlike anything I’ve ever felt or imagined. It seeps slowly through my body, each beat of my heart moving the debilitating wretchedness deeper inside me. Suddenly, my body shifts from freezing cold to sweltering hot. I can’t catch my breath.
Sweat pours from my forehead and into my eyes. I try crying out again, but the pain is too much to bear, and I don’t have the strength. My eyes close, and my body collapses in a heap on the grass.
“Interesting,” Perfect Teeth mutters again.
Is that all she can say?
“This is going to be a good show,” the male says, sounding amused.
Tattie! Tattie! I need help!
The final wave of torture washes over my head, and I know this is it.
I’m going to die.
Alone in a field, mocked by tormenters, sacrificed for no reason other than to satisfy the needs of pure evil.
Just like…
Suddenly, my suffering stops.
Not only is the pain gone, but my body feels good. Young, strong, healthy, and whole.
Cautiously, I open one eye and welcome the warm glow of the soft twilight sun. My cage is gone, and I’m no longer in Baymore Park. I’m alone, sitting in a field of wildflowers and tall grass.
I know this place.
Euphoria washes over me, and I breathe several deep sighs of relief. There’s a familiar oak tree up ahead. Smiling, I stand up on wobbly legs and walk over to it.
Our tree.
I lightly trace my finger over the letters carved into its ancient wood.
Michael. Kayla. Liora.
The names form a triangle, and there’s a star symbol carved in the middle. I remember how Michael added that part later, for me. He’d told me once that it was me who’d made our little group so special. Until I met them, Michael and Kayla had been like any other brother and sister. But once I joined the mix, everything had changed.
We became a family.
“Liora, come here!” A young girl calls. My heart stops. I know this voice…
“Coming!” I hear another girl sing out.
I gasp. As if hypnotized, I find myself moving toward the sounds of happy children laughing by the pond.
I see them….us. Michael, Kayla, and me. Michael is by the water, barefoot, his pant legs rolled up to his knees. He’s holding a long stick, and his brown hair flops aimlessly in the breeze. Kayla stands beside him, beaming.
I watch as my younger self skips toward them; my yellow sundress floats around me like a ray of sunshine.
I’m only twelve years old here; I am still innocent.
“Liora, look what Michael found!” Kayla says breathlessly.
“What is it?”
My heart pounds wildly. I remember every second of this scene playing out before me.
Michael takes his hand out from behind his back. In it, he’s holding a beautiful, full-bloomed white and yellow water lily.
“Here, Liora, this is for you,” he says, shyly handing Younger Me the flower. “It was floating in the middle of the pond all by itself. I wanted you to have it.”
Giggling delightedly, Kayla skips over to the oak tree and grabs the tire swing. “Michael and Liora, sitting in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g.”
Michael’s freckled cheeks tinge pink. “Shut up, Kayla,” he mutters, tossing a clump of grass at her.
“Michael, you better keep your promise!” Kayla yells out as she climbs up the rope and starts swinging.
“What promise?” I’m asking, holding his gift up to my face. I remember thinking it was the sweetest fragrance I’d ever smelled. I watch my younger self breathe deeply and smile.
Michael looks down at his feet, and then peeks shyly up through his long lashes. “I promised her that one day I’d ask you to marry me,” he says quietly. “That way you two can be real sisters forever.”