After You Died

by Dea Poirier

  My blood buzzes as I watch the field. In the distance, I see headlights glow against the empty road. The lights die, a door shuts, but I don’t see her until she’s under the tree. Her long black hair blows in the wind, she pulls a jacket tight around her as she looks around for us.

  “There she is,” I say, but it feels impossible. It can’t be Eden, she can’t be so close.

  We emerge from the tree line, and she starts to walk toward us. My pace quickens. She starts to jog. We careen into each other in a hug that makes my chest ache. I wish I could have really hugged her at the jail, but it’s hard to manage when you’re handcuffed.

  “I missed you,” she says as she squeezes me.

  “Of course you did,” I say, and a laugh pours out of me. It feels so foreign, so strange to laugh. It’s been so long, it almost feels wrong. The second the happiness bubbles up inside me, guilt follows.

  You don’t deserve to be happy.

  She pulls away and looks me over, like she’s expecting to find broken bones. When she finally nods with approval, someone saunters up behind her. It’s a kid I’ve seen at our old school, but I have no idea who he is. He’s got long blond hair, a Jimi Hendrix t-shirt, and he absolutely reeks of weed. I can smell him from ten feet away. This is the kind of kid my dad would look at and grumble burnout beneath his breath. The way he did before William went off to Vietnam. To me, this is the kind of kid I could be friends with.

  “Who’s this?” I ask her.

  She rolls her eyes, she doesn’t want to tell me. I push past her, and offer the kid a cigarette. “Asher,” I say.

  “Blake,” he says as he takes the cigarette, and nods a thank you.

  “How do you two know each other?” I ask him, I know she’s not going to offer the information willingly. I’ve never actually seen her hang around with a boy—not that I’d care if she did. She’s always acted like boys were beneath her. Like, she’d never be bothered.

  He eyes her, searching her face. I’d guess, for how much he’s allowed to tell me. She glowers at him, a look that could sour milk. Blake doesn’t shrink beneath her glare like I expect him to, instead he smiles and winks at her. Her mouth twists and she sneers. I know I’m going to like anyone who can make my sister sneer like that.

  “Can we move on to more important matters? Please?” she says, as she tries to take the attention off Blake. She thinks I’ll forget all about Blake, her boyfriend, I’d guess by the way he looks at her—I won’t forget, by the way.

  We walk back to the tree line, Eden sits in front of me. Our legs crossed, knees touching. She slides a folder from her bag. I reach out to snatch it, but she yanks it away. Her eyes are serious, pools of amber swimming with warnings. I know the words that linger behind those eyes.

  “There are pictures,” she warns. But I don’t need the warnings. I’ve already seen her body, it’s all I remember from that night. It appears over and over again in every-single-one of my nightmares. I snatch the folder from her and shine my flashlight onto the contents.

  It’s heavy in my lap. I can feel the weight of the words about her death, about the murder, about the suspect: me. The papers crinkle as I open the folder, for just a moment I see her body folded up on the ground like a wilted flower. I flip the pictures over face down on the folder. But not before my dinner creeps up my throat. My head swims, and my throat burns. I close my eyes. In a few seconds, it passes.

  There are pages and pages of handwritten notes so scribbled they may as well be in Hebrew. There are several diagrams, and then more pages of notes. Eden must see my confusion, she watches me scour over the pages like a hunting dog watches the ducks.

  “There really isn’t much in there,” she finally says.

  I sigh, and disappointment seeps into me slow and steady.

  “One thing,” she says.

  My ears perk up.

  “There was a third set of footprints at the scene that the police couldn’t identify,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. The way she says it, she may as well be telling me a ghost story.

  My stomach drops, there was someone else. It wasn’t me. “Thank you,” I say, it’s the first time I’ve said thank you to her and really meant it. “How’s Mom?” I ask, when she goes quiet.

  She rolls her eyes. “A mess. You know how she is. She lost her favorite, and then her backup favorite. But without you and William around she has been nicer to me. Dad, though...” She shudders.

  I don’t particularly care about how Dad’s been, but because it’s bothering Eden I ask, “What about him?”

  She plays with her necklace and thumbs the Saturn charm. “The day we left the jail, he issued an edict. No one in the house is allowed to say your name, as far as he’s concerned, you don’t exist. He’s hoping you die here.” She looks away from me, her jaw set in anger. Her elbows propped on her knees. “He said he rather you be dead than have a murderer in the family.”

  I shrug, I figured as much. A few months ago, that might have devastated me. Now it doesn’t even give me pause.

  “I need to tell you about something else,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. She looks to Blake and Sayid first, before she continues. They’re immersed in their own conversation. “Know how I mentioned before that I thought Dominic was following me?”

  “Yeah?” My mind flashes back to the first time Eden told me about it, while I was still in county lockup.

  “He was following me from class to class, so I stopped going to school because he’s creeping me out. He won’t even talk to me, I’ve tried,” she says, there’s an edge to her voice, like it’s about to crack. Eden is anything but emotional, there’s only ever one emotion that she shows: anger. She’s like a rabid, cornered cat. “He’s been hanging around the house. At night, I see him near the woods. I don’t know what he’s doing out there.” She wraps her arms tight around herself. “I feel like he’s everywhere. Like he might even be out here,” her eyes search the trees, like Dominic might be hidden in the shadows only feet away from us. “He’s always watching me.”

  “When’s the last time you saw him?” I ask.

  “Yesterday.” She looks down at her hands and picks at her fingernails. “I went to the Howey mansion with Blake to see if we could find anything. When we got there, I was looking through the windows while I tried to find a way in. Dominic was there, in the house, covered in blood. He saw me and chased us off.” She stops talking, and I see her shiver. Her face darkens with something I never see from my sister, fear. “I think he did it, I think he killed Olivia. There’s something off about him, Asher, something that creeps me the hell out.”

  It’s only because of the way Eden stares at me, that I realize my mouth is hanging open. “Covered in blood?” I ask, my mind spinning wildly. There has to be an explanation.

  She nods.

  “What could he have been doing there?” I ask, careful that my words aren’t defensive.

  “I have no idea,” she pauses as she scans the trees around us. “He had something to do with her death, I know it.”

  I don’t want to believe it. No part of me wants to believe that he’s following my sister, or that he killed Olivia. More importantly, why would he have killed her? Sometimes he seemed jealous of her, but never deadly. Never threatening. I know better than to ask Eden. Rather than her understanding that I’m trying to puzzle it out in my mind, she’ll see it as a challenge. The last thing I want to do is to challenge her. She wouldn’t make up something like seeing him at the Howey mansion. I swallow my questions, I know what I have to do, I have to trust my sister.

  “Don’t go back to that house,” I beg her. It kills me that I can’t protect her.

  She nods. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  “And I want you to stay away from Dominic.”

  “It’s not like I’m seeking him out,” she says, her eyes flashing.

  “That’s not what I meant.” I look down as frustration pools inside me. Eden’s always a bit defens
ive. “Just don’t go anywhere alone. I don’t even want you staying at the house,” I explain.

  “Last couple days, I’ve been staying at Blake’s,” she says, and even in the dim light, I can see her cheeks turn pink. Any other time, I’d tease her about Blake, but I know I’ll risk her storming off. We’ve got so little time together, I don’t want to waste it on a fight. I try to stifle my smile, but it doesn’t work.

  “Shut up,” she says as she glares at me.

  I hold my hands up in surrender. “I said nothing.”

  “Uh huh, I know what that look on your face means.”

  I roll my eyes at her.

  Silence brews between us for long enough that I light a cigarette, and she scowls at me for it. The trees above us seem to ripple, moved by a breeze that I can’t feel. In the distance, I can hear the low drill of a cicada.

  “Is it really as bad in there as they say?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Yes and no. Some days, it’s not so bad. But there are things in there worse than the rumors say.”

  “If you made it all the way out here, you could run away,” she says, pleading edges on her words.

  I look down at my lap. The truth of it is, I’m too selfish to run away. Before I go anywhere, there are too many answers I need. Part of me knows I should leave and protect my sister, but I just can’t.

  “Not yet,” I say. “There’s someone at the school who might be to help me get my memories back.”

  She looks at me confused. “A shrink?”

  I nod.

  “Maybe you don’t remember for a reason.” Her eyes narrow and she presses her lips together.

  I didn’t give her the answer she wanted.

  “What if you die in there?” she asks.

  “I’m not going to die, Eden.”

  Sayid stands up, pulling our attention from our conversation. “We need to start heading back, or we won’t get back to campus before the sun comes up.”

  “Our two hours is up already?” I ask.

  Sayid taps on his watch and nods.

  Eden and I hug, but refuse to say goodbye. She’s got a pool of tears in her eyes. But every time I think she might start to cry, she sniffles and looks away to compose herself. She clings to me, like she did when we were little, before she got strong, before it was clear that she didn’t need me anymore. Usually, she’s as vicious and hardened as a feral cat, but today, I can see it on her face that she needs me.

  “I won’t be here forever,” I promise her and hope it’s not a lie.

  She nods, and disappears beyond the woods with Blake. I watch them go, forcing myself to stay behind, and not follow them. Deep down, I know if I don’t stay at Dozier, if I don’t get the answers I need, I’ll hate myself. Turning back into the dark woods, I convince myself it’s for the best.

  The moonlight filters through the trees above barely lighting our path. My eyes burn, my body aches for sleep. Sayid follows along behind me, his steps much quieter than they were on our trip out here. He stops, but it takes me a few more steps to notice. I turn, he stands looking at me, and brings his finger to his lips. I hold my arms up toward my shoulders, to ask what? He holds his hand up, as if to cup his ear, and points out to the woods. Listen.

  For a long time, all I hear is the thud of my heartbeat, and my own breath. Then I hear in the distance footsteps, twigs snapping, something clunking against tree trunks. Sayid steps closer, and leaves less than a foot between us.

  “We need to sneak back quietly, that might be a guard. We’re close to the school.” He whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear.

  I sneak silently through the woods at his side. We walk so close, his arm brushes against mine. No matter how we try to distance ourselves from the sound, it seems to grow closer. Step, step, drag, clunk. Over, and over. Louder and louder. He reaches his hand out to stop me, and pulls me behind a tree. That’s when I see a guard, dragging a kid’s body through the woods. Blood trails down the face of the corpse. I don’t recognize him.

  I’m paralyzed, rooted to the ground with fear. My breath sounds loud to my ears, I slow my breathing, not wanting to make any noise that might alert the guard.

  For nearly five minutes we wait as the guard drags the body farther into the woods. Step, step, crack, clunk. Step, step, clunk. Until, finally, he disappears into the darkness. But even after he’s long gone, we wait, just in case the sound of our steps carry.

  When I see the stables, relief washes over me. Madison stands in the distance, calling to me. I feel dead on my feet, so tired that my bones ache. I fall back onto my mattress, it creaks beneath me. My eyes close, sleep takes me. And the nightmares seep in like a dark fog spreading in my mind.

  Before

  Date Unknown

  Her face glows. It’s so close to the candle, I don’t know how it’s not burning her. Maybe it is burning her, she just doesn’t care. It’s not like it can hurt her, not long term, anyway. Her eyes are far off, she hasn’t looked at me or spoken a word in nearly an hour. She’s lost in thought. All day she’s argued with me without saying a word. Every glance, every glare, she can stir up a fight without a single syllable. As I watch her intently, the ghost of a memory pulls at me. She’s so familiar, but I can’t quite place who she is. Physically, she’s a stranger. But there’s something inside of her, a soul, a spirit, that I recognize. Someone I’ve known before, someone I’ll know again.

  “If it doesn’t work,” she finally says, her words trailing off. Her face is grim, but it’s always grim. She’s always been a pessimist, and always will be.

  “It will work.” I say firmly. I’m sure of it.

  “Fine,” she says with gritted teeth. “But if it doesn’t. I have a theory.”

  I lean back against my chair, and pull away from the table far enough to cross my legs. I wave my hand at her, “Go on then.” Even if I told her I didn’t want to hear her theory, she’d tell me anyway.

  “We need to convince him to make more of us,” she says, the smallest smile curls her lips. “Better though, would be to make more of us without him ever knowing what we had.”

  “What?” My brows pull together.

  “I think each time he makes another one like us, it makes him weaker. If he keeps doing it, we might finally be able to kill him,” she explains, her face hardens and she looks away. “We’re going to need his blood.”

  I don’t want to try this. Doing it could risk everything. It could ruin our plans. She can try to get him to create as many others as she wants, but if I get his blood, I’m not using it to curse anyone else.

  “Whatever we do, he can’t see you. We have to be sure.” Warning is heavy in my words.

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Am I ever anything but careful?” She pauses, and her eyes tighten. “This is important, I think it might be our only chance.”

  It’s a good theory, however, it’s the exact opposite of mine. My fear, if we do finally kill him, all of us will die too. Then again, maybe that’s for the best. We are meant to die after all.

  After

  It’s been three weeks since I saw Eden. Without her I feel like I’m stuck behind a wall while the rest of the world keeps moving around me. Though I can hear the muffled voices, I can’t break through. I go through the motions because I have to.

  Sayid is off in the woods tonight getting a fresh shipment. I offered to help, but he has to warn his suppliers I’m coming before I tag along. So while the night thickens around me, I sit on the back porch and watch the orange trees. The smoke from my cigarette swirls up to the roof. Mosquitoes buzz too close to my face.

  A breeze whips through the trees, and my eyes narrow as I search between the rows. I’ve seen her three times tonight. Her glowing face pops in and out of the trees. And I swear, each time the wind blows, I hear her laugh.

  My skin warms, my cheeks burn. Someone, something, is watching me. To my left and right there’s nothing. I scan the rows again. At the edge of the trees, Olivia stands watching me. A shuddering w
ind sweeps across the campus and the branches creak. Her white dress whips against her legs, the fabric is stained with something dark.

  “Asher,” she whispers my name.

  It’s the longest she’s ever stayed, and the first time she’s spoken to me. I stand and jump off the edge of the porch, never taking my eyes off the trees, off her.

  I walk toward her, she cocks her head and smiles. My head is thick with static. This isn’t possible. This isn’t real, is it? As I get closer, she spins on her heel and runs into the trees. I follow, only a few feet behind her. She weaves in and out of the rows. I’m breathless as I try to follow her. As quick as a bullet she races into the next row. I follow, but find it empty. My gait slows, and I listen for her. But she’s nowhere to be found.

  Each of my limbs is heavy, weighted with sadness. My eyes burn.

  You’re fucking crazy.

  Behind me something moves, I try to turn, but arms wrap around me. Her body presses to my back. Her cheek is against my neck. She leans into me. My body recoils at her touch. Confusion and panic tethers me to the ground.

  “I’m sorry. But in the end, it’s for the best,” she whispers. But it’s not Olivia’s voice. It’s a voice I’ve heard before, but I can’t place it. The words cause something to stir at the back of my mind. I shift and try to pull away, but she grips me tighter. Slowly she drags something across my throat. I hear rain. But it’s not rain. It’s my blood.

  My legs tremble, and my knees give out. Blood covers my hands and drips down my arms. Panic rises up in my throat, it pools just beneath the wound. The world shifts around me. And I know I’m dying.

  I fall backward. Black edges in on my vision, my thoughts slow and blur together. Olivia crouches beside me, her hands stroke my face.

  “One day you’ll understand,” she says as she pets me. Her words are soft, sweet. But something’s wrong.

  “You have to stay away from Dominic.” Her eyes scan the trees. “He can’t take you. He’ll try to get you to go with him willingly. Don’t do it, Asher. Don’t let him trick you.”