The Guardians Of Aneroma

1. The Pendant

Three years later..

Grace found herself on a wide staircase. She walked, her fingers lightly brushing the railing. She kept going up, picking a fast pace and skipping stairs—

Swoosh.

A large axe swung, barely missing Grace by an inch. She took a step back and tripped. Fortunately, she was able to save herself by holding onto the railing, which saved her from a huge fall. She looked behind her and saw black. The stairs she took had disappeared, replaced by an empty void. Grace breathed heavily. 

"Fear is only going to get you back, Grace." A distant voice called for her.

"Who are you?" Grace shouted, her voice breaking from her great distress. The voice didn't reply back. Instead, a light shone at the end of the stairs, which tempted her to run towards it. She took a step forward and she found many obstacles, from swinging axes, to missing stairs, to metal skewers, emerging from the ground. Grace took a step back. 

"Fear is only going to get you back, Grace." The voice repeated. 

"What, what does that mean?" Grace asked in exasperation. She found stairs falling into darkness, leaving Grace standing on one slab. She fearfully tried to jump, but she retracted her feet to the slab, only to lose her balance and fall in darkness. 

She shot up with a gasp, her eyes wide from the shock. Finding herself in her bed, she exhaled. She had had that same dream for fourteen days straight, but she still hadn't figured out what the voice was trying to tell her, or why she was having that dream. She sighed. She was sleeping horizontally on her stomach, bare, for the blanket was abandoned on the ground. Her phone’s alarm went off. She breathed through her nose, deciding that those five minutes of sleep were not worth it. She checked her phone and looked at the time. 

6:55 A.M.

Enough time for her to get dressed and make breakfast. 

She sat up, her feet brushing the cold wooden ground. She rubbed her eyes, reaching for her slippers with her feet. She didn’t find them. 

Must’ve left them in the bathroom again. Oh, well..

She opened her window (which she didn’t usually do but her father had been begging her to open the window and make her bed in the morning) and stared at her bed. She shrugged and left the room instead.

She took her sweet time showering and brushing her shoulder-length brown hair. Putting on her sneakers, tying her shoelaces in an inadequate way, she went to her father’s bedroom. 

Fred was softly snoring as he slept in his nurse uniform, blue scrubs. His glasses were crooked from how he pressed the side of his face on the soft silk pillow. Grace carefully took off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand. Poor Fred was too tired to feel Grace’s hands. He had visible eyebags from his lack of sleep and a new scratch on his neck. It seemed like it had been bleeding, because it was clotting. Grace never really understood why he came with a new cut, bruise or a scratch every day. He had always brushed it off nervously when she tried to talk about it. 

She covered his body with his blanket. He absentmindedly shifted into a new position. Grace left the room soundlessly and ran downstairs. 

She made four sandwiches. Two for her and two crustless grilled cheese sandwiches for her father. She never really understood why her father didn’t like the crust on the bread. 

It is literally the best part of the toast!

She packed them in paper bags and placed her father’s meal in the fridge while she placed hers in her backpack. With her backpack slung over her shoulder, she launched the skateboard with her leg into her hands. She wore her turquoise helmet and took off. She felt proud of herself for getting so much accomplished in her tight schedule.