by Etzoli
The mood was dead. Sara had killed it. I felt utterly deflated by her words. I tried not to show it, but to her credit, Sara realized it instantly.
“…I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. Please, don’t feel like you have to tiptoe around me. I’m good.”
She still looked concerned. “…Do you want to talk about it?”
Yes, please, by all the stars in the sky. “Seriously, it’s fine. No problem.” Sara didn’t look convinced, but I was determined to change the subject. “Did you call Matt again yet?”
“Uhh, yeah. But not about what you’re thinking.”
“Huh?”
She adjusted in her chair, hesitating for a moment. “Carl called me. I think he’s losing it. I thought I should warn Matt before something happens.”
“…Losing it how?”
“He was totally incoherent. Err… sorry. I mean, he sounded really confused. Really unsure of himself. Like he might do something really stupid.”
I stood up and started pacing. I needed movement. Blood flowing through my brain would help me think more clearly. It usually did, anyway. I wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind right then, but I would take anything I could get. Carl, what are you doing? Are you crazy?
“Jen?”
“I don’t know,” I said. The pacing stopped, almost as quickly as it had started. My body stepped in and pointedly reminded me how exhausted I actually was, and forced me to go back to sitting down. “He’s under a lot of pressure. I think he just needs some time.”
Sara looked even less sure than I was. “But… the cops?”
“They don’t have anything. They can’t have anything.” I felt my face get warm with guilt, even as I repeated Matt’s usual line. “There’s no evidence.”
Sara shrugged—but before she could say anything else, a light tap-tap-tap came from her bedroom door. Her father’s muffled voice rang out. “Sara?”
My head twisted around to face the door, and before I could stop myself, my hand took hold of the knife still tucked behind my back. Sara didn’t seem to notice. I forced myself to release the handle. Why had I grabbed it? There wasn’t any danger here, was there? Sara seemed nervous, but that could be nothing. I was an uninvited guest who snuck in, of course she’d be nervous about her dad finding out.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“I’m coming in, okay?” Before she could answer, the door opened, and her father stepped into the room. I felt the temperature slide up just a few degrees instantly, as everything seemed to sharpen. Something about his posture, or maybe it was Sara’s, but I felt threatened. My hand slowly crept back toward my knife, out of sight.
He looked around and spotted me, his eyebrows raised. “Jen? When did you get here?”
“A little bit ago. Sorry, Mr. Monaghan,” I said, trying to stay calm. “I needed to talk to Sara about something.”
“Well, it’s late, and Sara didn’t ask to have guests over. I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave.” His tone brooked absolutely no room for argument, but I still hesitated. I glanced at Sara. Part of me was just feeling rebellious—I really didn’t like being told what to do—but I didn’t want to get Sara in trouble.
She nodded at me, very slowly, very carefully. I raised my eyebrows, trying to get something from her, but her mouth was shut tight.
I stood up, feeling very out of place. I mean, feeling out of place was my entire life at this point, but I felt especially wrong right then. I kept telling myself it was nothing. I was just crazy. I was a lunatic from another world with some serious mental problems. Nothing about this was remotely threatening. I was imagining it.
Her dad didn’t want unexpected guests in his house. That was totally reasonable. He even asked nicely.
I started down the stairs, her dad following and Sara trailing only a few steps behind. She still hadn’t spoken a single word. I could hear her footsteps. Too careful. Too light. Something was wrong. She was tense, way too tense. Preparing for something.
I couldn’t be imagining all of this, could I?
“Do you need a ride home?” he asked, opening the front door for me.
I shook my head. “It’s not too far. I can walk.”
“All right. We’ll see you for dinner on Monday, then.”
“Night, Jen,” called Sara, with only the faintest quiver in her voice.
I gave them a thumbs up before stepping out into the street. It was cold out, especially with my still-damp jacket clinging to my shoulders. At least it had stopped raining though. I set off down the road, whistling a tune Ruvalei once taught me. A bird flew across the road, landing in the trees opposite, chirping madly. I smiled at it, taking it as a sign, though the birds in this world weren’t smart enough to carry messages like I was used to. It didn’t matter though, I’d made up my mind.
I reached the end of Sara’s yard and promptly dove between the two houses, rolling on the slick grass.
You didn’t think I was actually gonna leave , did you? That song I was whistling was a prelude to war. It foretold the coming of fire and destruction, swift vengeance on any who dared harm the forests. Ruvalei had always hated that song, but she held it as something sacred and beautiful nonetheless. I had to paraphrase it a bit on my head to fit Sara, but I was sure she’d understand. It gave me the courage I needed.
I wasn’t done here yet.
***
I crouched beneath the Monaghans’ window, just outside their kitchen. The fence was easy to get over. I doubted anybody had seen me drop into their backyard. I left my bag back at the front, near the street but hidden away in a bush. If I had to make a break for it, I could grab it as I went, or come back for it if I really had to.
I could hear someone talking. A deep voice—had to be Sara’s dad. The words were too muffled though. I had to get closer.
A few more steps would take me to the sliding door into the living room, where they were probably sitting. I had to stay low, or I could be spotted through the kitchen window, but I also couldn’t just crawl straight to the door. There was a wooden patio deck in front of the door that raised up off the ground. I settled on a kind of awkward waddle that kept me low to the ground, but also let me balance on my feet to take slow, silent steps. The wood barely creaked with each movement, but I doubted they could hear it inside.
After a very stressful couple minutes of slow going, I finally got as close as I could to the sliding glass door, and I could hear them clearly enough to understand what they were talking about. Which, apparently, was me.
Bizarre.
“I don’t mind that you’re friend with her. I mind that you let her into our home without asking.” He sounded so calm… but at the same time, there was an emptiness in his voice I hadn’t recognized before. Or maybe it had never been there.
“She comes over all the time, Dad,” said Sara, but it wasn’t the same Sara I was used to. Her voice wasn’t steady. This was that tiny tremor I’d heard before, except it had grown to a small earthquake. I didn’t recognize her at all. Sara never let anyone boss her around, but now she sounded… scared.
I hated hearing her sound scared. My friends should never have to feel scared. I never wanted them to feel that. But this wasn’t my family. It wasn’t my life. Did I really have the right to jump in? I had no idea what was going on in there. I didn’t belong here anyway. I couldn’t judge them. I should just leave, go back to my own home, my own family.
If Sara’s voice hadn’t sounded so afraid, I would have disappeared back into the forests. Possibly forever. Utterly alone. But I cared too much to leave her behind. I had to stay. I had to make sure she was okay, or I’d never have a moment’s peace. I’d listen, and then I’d leave.
Thank every single star in every sky in every world that exists in the whole damn universe that I didn’t walk away.
“Sara, you are not to talk back to me.” His voice was laced with ice, a chill I’d not heard in a man’s voice in a very long time. How had he concealed that from
me for so long? I knew that tone. I recognized that brutality. I’d heard it before, from a man I’d—
No. Now wasn’t the time for getting lost in memories. I forced it away. I needed to focus.
“Honey, it’s okay. Jenny’s gone, no harm done,” said Sara’s mom. “Let’s just all head to bed, all right?”
“No. It’s not all right,” snapped her father. The volume in the room ticked up a notch. “Sara directly disobeyed me. She disrespected my wishes, in front of a guest of the house.”
I heard something scrape along the floor. I desperately wanted to see what was going on, but to move even an inch forward would put me in direct view of the couch. All I could see was the near corner, where I saw a vague shadow I assumed to be Sara’s, outlined on the wall.
I looked down at my hands. When did my knife get there? I didn’t remember drawing it from its sheath. I wasn’t about to put it away again though. I clutched it firmly, grip at the ready. Just in case.
Just in case.
Nothing was going to go wrong. This was just a family argument.
“Sara, you understand what you’ve done wrong?”
“Yes, I do,” she replied quickly. Again, that fear. I felt real pain in my chest, hearing that from my best friend.
“Tell me.”
“I invited a friend over without asking for permission. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“No,” he growled. Fire blew through the ice, as his voice became a hot spear. I knew that voice too. Knew it all too well. I knew what was coming next, even if I couldn’t see it.
No. I didn’t know. This was all wrong. People like that didn’t exist here. This was the real world. This was the suburbs. Oregon. We were safe here.
“Respect, Sara. You did not respect me. Your father .”
Another scrape. A chair moving along the floor? Somebody stood up, I guessed.
Sara’s mom spoke next. “Dear, please. It’s okay.”
Thump. Someone slamming something? Maybe a book on the table. I couldn’t be sure.
“It is not okay,” her father snapped. “Don’t interrupt me.”
Sara’s mom didn’t reply. I watched Sara’s shadow shift uneasily, but I couldn’t get any more details just from that. I heard another thump, followed by the sound of the couch sinking in. Their couch had a very distinct sound when it compressed, like when someone sat down. That only confirmed my fear that somebody would see me if I peeked around the corner. I had to stay still.
“I’m sorry for disrespecting you,” said Sara. Her voice was so small. I’d never heard her sound like that before. I didn’t know she was capable of sounding so weak and defeated. What the hell was going on in that room?
I don’t belong here, I repeated in my head. I don’t know what’s going on. Nothing’s happening.
Thump.
I don’t belong here.
A sharp cry. Someone in pain, or maybe just exclaiming something.
I don’t belong.
Another thump, and a groan.
Fuck this.
I hooked my shoe onto the lip of the door and shoved. It slid open in one smooth motion. A gust of air whistled over the threshold. I hurled myself around the corner.
Time stopped. Dear stars, why did I wait so long?
Her mother was curled up in the corner of the couch, hiding her face, protecting herself. Through the gap between her limbs, I saw bruising. Tears streamed down her face—the kind I knew. The kind you have to learn to shed in absolute silence.
Sara was in the chair nearest me. Towering over her, clenched fist raised, was her father. She was ducking into a defensive posture, something that was really just useless. Instinctive, but ultimately pointless against a man that outweighed her by so much, with far more strength and endurance.
I didn’t have long to act. I still had the element of surprise, but every head was turning toward me. I saw the threat, to my best friend and to myself, and I moved in.
Sara’s dad was quicker than most to react, but he couldn’t swing around fast enough. I was smaller and faster. I went straight for his center of mass. I had to knock him off balance. Knock him over, if I could.
My shoulder hit him just below the waist.
His arm was still up in the air, and it threw off his center. He toppled backward, tripping over the footrest behind him. The… ottoman. Another loud thump as he crashed to the carpet.
“Jen?” Sara asked, her voice cracking in shock.
I didn’t have time to respond. He was disoriented and down, but he wasn’t out. Sprawled between the ottoman and the chair, he twisted around. He was trying to right himself.
I leapt over the furniture. My knee connected with his stomach. He grunted in pain as all the air blew out of his lungs. My hand raced forward. A red line appeared across his arm as he tried to block it, tried to fend me off.
“Jen, stop!”
His arm retracted from the pain. I wasn’t about to waste an opening like that. My knife plunged down again. The blade sunk into his shoulder. I retracted it, and I saw red.
Another. I had to strike again. He was still moving.
Something knocked into me from the side. I was bowled over into the nearest chair. I scrambled back to my feet, in the best defensive stance I could manage. There was only one threat in the room, wasn’t there? What hit me?
My eyes strained to focus again. Sara’s mom was suddenly in front of me. Her arms were outstretched. I was breathing heavily, as adrenaline surged through me. I was ready to strike, but I knew she wasn’t who I wanted. She wasn’t the threat.
She wasn’t moving toward me, but she wasn’t getting out of the way either. Her face was suddenly calm. The tears had stopped flowing. She was resolute, while her husband growled and writhed in pain on the ground behind her.
Sara appeared at my side. “Jen?”
I will never forget the tone in Sara’s voice when she said my name. She was scared, she was hopeful, she was grateful, she was terrified. It brought me back. I had to fight off the adrenaline urging me forward. Urging me to fight. Between Sara’s mother blocking me out, and my best friend wide-eyed beside me, I couldn’t move.
What did I just do?
Sara seemed to recognize I was frozen. She took my hand and bolted for the front door. I was dragged along, my feet following her lead straight out the door and far away. Away from the blood and the pain. Away from the fear and the confusion. Away from a house that suddenly loomed like a dungeon, receding behind us into the darkness as we fled into the night.
***
We kept running until we were four blocks away. Sara finally slowed down, panting for breath. There was a bench nearby, and she sat down, trying to catch her breath. A lone streetlight hung above us, flickering gently in the cool night breeze. Darkness had fallen completely, leaving us two completely alone in the world. The entire street didn’t have a single other light visible, curving away in both directions. There was almost no moon that night either. It was like were were on an island made of light, and the rest of the world just didn’t exist anymore.
At that moment, the idea sounded just fine.
Sara still hadn’t let go of my hand. I was still up, looking every direction, keeping watching for anyone. Anything. I couldn’t shake the fear that we’d been followed, even though I could tell myself there wasn’t anyone to follow us. I probably would have started circling the area to scout, if I hadn’t felt Sara’s hand shaking in mine.
That brought me back again. I looked at her and saw her face, pale as fresh snow.
“Jen?” she whispered.
“…Yeah,” I said, but I felt as uncertain as she looked. I finally sat down. She needed me with her more than she needed my protection. I scooted over a little, and let her lean against my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“No,” I snapped, more harshly than I meant to. “It’s your turn for that. Dov nara vack was that back there?”
She looked away, but I saw her
face get red again. “Nothing. Don’t worry about.”
“Don’t— Sara, your dad was—” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I cleared my throat awkwardly. “That was something to fucking worry about.”
“I know, okay?” She whirled about, tears in her eyes. “I should have said something. I should have done something. I never did. And now this. This… mess. I’m so sorry, Jen. I should have told you so long ago, but I was too scared. I didn’t know what he’d do, or how bad it was going to get. Please.” She was talking so far toward the end, I was having trouble keeping up. All the rage and frustration I felt vanished into the cold night breeze.
She shivered with the next gust of wind. I took off my jacket and draped it around her. The outer layer might be damp, but it was still warmer than the t-shirt she had on. More importantly, I could see how much it helped. Like how they always gave blankets to people after traumatic events. If I’d had a blanket or two… wouldn’t have changed much, but I would’ve felt a little better.
I pulled her into a tight hug as she started crying. Tears fell into my lap. I let her bury her face in my shoulder, hide from the world, and I tried to comfort her however I could.
I began to sing.
Sara couldn’t understand a word of it, but I’ve been told my singing was nice. I don’t know if that’s true. I can’t really say if it’s any good. I liked singing, and I liked the reactions I got from friends when I sang. I had sung for large gatherings, and I’d sung for just Ruvalei and Naef before. I sang every day before the war started, and I sang again when it was over, after my friends begged me to. It was fun, a simple joy of being able to create music and convey some real emotions through melodies and lyrics, stuff I couldn’t just say. No tools, no instruments, just my voice and the song.
I sang to Sara a lullaby, something I’d learned long before I understood the words. Ruvalei used to sing it whenever I felt really homesick, back in the early days when I was still new in the forest, before I’d even joined the suunsyl . She somehow always knew when I’d need it most, and when I was curled up in the little nook of Tethevallen’s guest tree, Ruvalei would show up to sing me to sleep, while Naeflin darted around just out of sight playing my fears away on her tulavir .