The Forces

Prologue

There's a maze. And an ocean, a great big, beautiful ocean, and it's just on the other side of the maze.

I think that's all I remember about where I was.

I wasn't a baby, not really. Well, I was one of those babies that can walk if their hand is being held and point at what they want and cry over things that make sense, like broken toys or falling down or being told no. I wasn't a toddler either, because toddlers are bigger than babies. I guess I was just the age where your memories start sticking. But I think I could've been any age at all and this memory would've still stuck. That's because it was the night that my parents died. Well, if I'm telling this story truthfully, then it's the night they were killed. "Died" sounds too gentle, too nice. It's not the right word for someone who was blown up.

I don't remember the surroundings, but I remember the situation pretty well. My knee was sort of scraped up, because my sister had pushed me or something. I was crying over it, and normally my dad would've patched it up with the snap of his fingers, but right now, he was distracted. I remember my mom scooping up my sister and my dad snatching up my hand to pull me to my feet. I remember looking up at my sister, probably with the intent to stick my tongue out at her, but my mom had her fingertips pressed to the back of her small head, holding her face to her neck. I wish my dad had done the same for me, because my sister didn't have to see what I did.

I remember turning forward. I remember the woosh, and the great big wave flooding the vine walls of the maze around us. I remember my dad raising his wand, a sheet of blue light being followed by a few flashes of red, my sister being thrown from what was left of my mother's arms, and my sister and I flying straight upwards, over that great big wave as it washed away the scraps of our parents' bodies.