Chapter Fifty
Three months later in South Chicago, Austin sat upright in a stiff hospital bed with her hands lying limply in her lap. She gave no sign that she had noticed the door open, or the boy now kneeling in front of her.
Dustin’s voice hitched as he took one off her hands in his own, “Aussy, it’s me again.”
He paused. If he was waiting for a response, he would be disappointed. He tightened his lips into a straight line so that he wouldn’t cry. He had to be strong, for her, “I know that you’re going to hate me if this works. I know that. But this isn’t fair.”
“You’re too important to waste away,” as he spoke, he rose so that his face was level with hers, “Aussy, I’m not letting you get away from me, not like this. Do me a favor and let me win, just this once.”
“Please. Just please, let me bring you back. Aussy, I like you,” he laughed wildly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Something in him broke as he said that. He knew that love could be a curse. Somewhere deep down, he knew this wasn’t going to work. His heart was what was breaking, and he could feel the familiar numbness spreading through his body, “Give me a chance to fall in love with you. Please.”
He forced the numbness away and put all his focus on the girl in front of him. He slowly leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Austin’s forehead. She didn’t react.
He could have easily passed the chaos energy through interlocked hands or a hug, as most chose to do. This was stronger, though. He would have kissed her on the lips had she been awake (and when she was awake, he’d definitely be doing that), but this was better. He kissed her forehead just as he had done a thousand times, laying her to bed.
The dark energy moved freely between the two, and Dustin’s tattoos swirled onto Austin’s skin as proof of the transfer. Austin of Fire, most of the words said, The Girl Who Fought. Most of the words disappeared into her as quickly as they had come, but other swirls, which looked like strokes from a thick paintbrush, took their place.
“C’mon sleeping beauty,” he broke off the kiss and stared at her, looking for any response at all. He got none. The next time he spoke, he was directing his words at the darkness itself, “Please. She doesn’t need any special powers. She just needs to come back. Bring her back to me, please.”
Austin’s eyes still looked ahead blankly, unseeing.
“Please,” he whispered again, begging now. Again, he kissed her unmoving lips. He still pushed his energy into her, but this time, the kiss was gentle. With every long second that passed, the kiss turned more and more into a goodbye.
“Please,” he repeated himself, staring at the black marks sinking under her skin―― evidence that the transformation was complete. He had done nothing but condemn her to a painful death, but one that she would be unable to feel. She was as good as dead already.
Austin was gone.
He cradled her corpselike body in his arms, trying to find signs of the girl he once knew. She didn’t feel the same this way, with her body giving at the slightest pull or push. She wasn’t Austin anymore, “Aussy, I don’t know what to do.”
Something wet spilled out of Dustin’s eyes, but he didn’t wipe it away. There was no one around to keep his image up for. The emotion spilled out of his face, and slowly, the tears stopped.
He let go of the lifeless body and his shoes barely whispered against the ground as he walked to the door. As he rested his hand on the edge of the doorframe, he looked back. Austin’s body face his direction, and she stared right through him.
“Damn,” he snapped, not caring who he woke up. He didn’t care about being seen. He. Did. Not. Care. He slammed his fist into the wall and felt blood on his hand, but he didn’t care about the pain, either.
“Damn,” he said, softer. His shoulders dropped and he stepped out of the room. A young male nurse was walking towards him with a scowl on his face, probably wondering what a teenage boy was doing in a teenage girl’s room so late at night. As the nurse came closer, Dustin suddenly felt the familiar weight of a knife in his hand. It was his knife, the one that Austin had taken such a liking to.
It would be so much easier to kill the nurse. It would be a quiet death. No records in this dimension could link him to the crime. He would steal Austin away and hide her somewhere new, in a different state. He twirled the knife in his fingers, but he was facing in such a way that the nurse couldn’t see.
Then, through the cold numbness in Dustin’s mind, through the still open door, and through everything that condemned this miracle, Dustin heard a voice.
“Don’t call me Aussy.”
Acknowledgments
I want to say thank you to the people who supported me in writing this book. Whether you did it because you liked my writing or because you knew that writing gave me an escape from whatever I was going through at the time, you’ve all always supported me.
Specifically, I want to thank:
Jillian, who always stood by and critiqued my writing as fast as I could send it out. When I first started writing, it was terrible. It was quite possibily the worst thing in the entire world, and see where it’s at now? That improvement is thanks to you.
Michael, you were the first person outside of editors I let read my book, and since then, you’ve been encouraging me to channel all of the bad things into this. So thank you.
Jenevieve, William, Noah, Nikki, Riley...you all either read what I wrote or let me talk endlessly about the ideas I’ve had about writing. You let me talk, to express myself. This book wouldn’t be what it was without your parts in my life.
And, of course, thanks goes to you, the reader. What would this book be without someone to read it? Nothing. So thank you for reading.
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