The Survivors Trilogy

BOOK TWO || CHAPTER ONE

It's strange when your worst nightmare turns into reality.

I've never had anything like this happen before. Nothing has ever made me feel so insane, so trapped up inside my own head. I can't remember the last time I felt like I was going completely crazy from something like this. I guess you don't, really—not until the bad actually happens to you.

But I don't want anyone to experience this type of pain for themselves. Not even my worst enemy.

Subconsciously, you store all the bad memories away and never revisit them. They stay in the recesses of the mind and don't come out; not until something makes them—forces them—to come out. They get pulled out and all you can do is sit back and watch them replay over and over again—no matter how hard you scream, cry or press your hands into your eyes until it hurts.

This memory will never leave my mind.

Vicky was taken almost three days ago, and I feel like I'm on the brink of my sanity. I think if another bad thing happens, it will push me over the edge and I'll never get back to normal again.

I've started seeing her come into my room at night. She walks up to me, hugs me tightly and kisses me, tells me that she misses me, that she'll never leave me again. But then she walks out of the room, leaving me alone in a place where I feel like I want to rip my own heart out. She looks different when she comes back; scarier, pale, blank—almost like she's dead.

I hate the fact that nightmares feel so real.

Once you're awake, they stay hidden at the back of your eyes, waiting patiently for you to close them, to fall asleep so they can come back at you when you never expect it. You see memories as clearly as you hear someone speak. I see memories and images flash across my eyes before they are even at the front of my mind.

Kyle flashes across my vision, and it pains my heart like never before. I see him crumble against the wall while the Shadow's sword retracts from his stomach. I see the life slowly ebb away from his eyes until they close completely, never to be opened again. I feel his heavy body as he went limp in my arms. I still feel all his warm blood on my hands.

The pain that was once there—right in the center of my chest—is now numb, and I don't know if I'll ever feel it again. I don't exactly know if I want to feel that pain again.

I didn't think it was possible. I didn't think you could hurt so badly that all the pain that was once there can still make you feel numb. It creeps back up to my chest, my arms, my legs, my back, and it won't go away. It never goes away.

It doesn't feel like my legs are crushing my chest as I pull them close to my body. I wonder, sometimes, when I'm in this position, if the crushing pain will be more or less painful then the discomfort I feel in every single other part of my body. I just want to feel something, and it doesn't matter what it is.

Three soft knocks on the door startle me, and I instinctively reach for the dagger at my belt which is no longer there. Vicky had it—no, has it—and I need to find a new one quickly.

The door opens slowly. I blink and squint as the light pierces into my eyes, right past my corneas, to the back of my head. I don't know how long I've been in the dark bedroom, tucked tightly into a ball in the corner of my bed, but I want to say as soon as I got out of the Infirmary—right after the world collapsed around me.

"Xander?"

I want to be angry at the voice. I want to shout, to throw something at the tall silhouette, but then I remember he's only trying to be kind, to be thoughtful, to try and help me.