Page 51

R.E.E.C.E

A baby was crying, and I couldn't sleep.

The sound was thin and high-pitched, cutting through the walls and into my ears like needles. I scrunched a pillow over my head, squeezing my eyes shut as if I could block it out, but it was useless. It just kept getting louder and more desperate, like it was determined to keep me awake.

I huffed, kicking at the blanket. I have school in the morning!

The floor creaked beneath my feet as I slipped out of bed, the cool wood making me shiver. My stomach twisted with irritation, but also something else. Something that made my chest tight— why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Padding out of my room, I got my answer and stopped just before the living room. My mom was there, lying on the floor. Her hair was tangled, her mouth open, and the half-empty bottle of something sharp-smelling was tipped over beside her. I wrinkled my nose at the sight.

The baby's cry echoed louder now, sharp and broken, and I glanced down at my mom again. She didn't even flinch. I frowned, staring at her, because I don't think Momma's ever been this tired.

Sighing, I grabbed a ratty blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over her as carefully as I could. My fingers brushed her arm, and she didn't stir. The blanket didn't really cover her legs, but it was better than nothing.

I kissed the top of her forehead, trying not to gag at the horrible smell and whispered, "Goodnight, Mom."

The crying called me again, and I turned towards the staircase. I hesitated at the bottom of the steps, Dad's voice echoing in my head. "You don't go upstairs, understood?" His warning had been loud and firm, like a rule carved in stone.

But the baby was crying, and no one else was doing anything. My heart thudded in my chest as I started up the stairs, careful to skip the creaky ones I had memorised a long time ago. Each step made me feel like I was walking into trouble, but I couldn't stop.

The hallway at the top was dim, the air heavier than downstairs. I followed the sound, creeping towards the room at the end, where the door was cracked open just enough for the noise to spill out. The crying was louder now, frantic and sharp, making my skin crawl.

I pushed the door open slowly, my breath catching in my throat. The room smelled dusty like it hadn't been cleaned in a long time, and the light from the streetlamp outside barely lit the space. But there, on the floor, was a baby.

She was so small, so red-faced, her tiny fists flailing as she screamed. She wasn't in a crib or on a blanket—just lying on the bare floor, wriggling in her tears. My chest tightened as I stared at her. How could my parents just leave her like this?

The crying stopped the moment she saw me.

Her big, watery eyes locked onto mine, and just like that, the air grew still.

I froze in the doorway, staring down at her, my breath caught in my chest. Her little arms stopped flailing, her fists unclenched, and all that was left was the sound of her soft, uneven breaths.

She looked at me like she recognised me. Like she'd been waiting for me. I stepped closer, slowly lowering myself to the floor where she lay. Her tiny face was red and puffy from all the crying, but to me, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

I knew who this was. In my heart, I knew. Mom and Dad have been fighting constantly since Mom had come home a couple days ago with a large blanket in her arms. I thought they were just blankets, but it wasn't; it was my baby sister.

"Hey, little sis," I whispered, my voice shaky and soft. I reached out with trembling hands, brushing the back of my fingers over her cheek. Her skin was so warm, so soft. She blinked at me, her little mouth parting as if she wanted to say something, and I couldn't help but smile.

"You were crying so loud," I said quietly, leaning closer. "I couldn't sleep… but you're not crying anymore, huh? You just needed someone to find you."

Her lips quivered, and for a second, I thought she might start to cry again. But instead, she let out a tiny, soft coo, her little fingers twitching as if reaching for me. That was all it took. My chest filled with something warm, soft, and so big, I thought I might burst.

"I got you," I whispered, carefully slipping my hands under her. She was so light, like holding a feather, and I cradled her to my chest, afraid she might break if I wasn't careful. Her head fit perfectly in the crook of my arm, her body curling up like she belonged there.

She looked up at me, her big, green eyes still wet with tears, but there was something new in them now—trust. It was like she knew I was going to keep her safe. Like she believed in me. I'd never felt anything like it before, and I didn't want to let go.

I stood up slowly, holding her close as I left the room. My heart was racing, and my head was still spinning by the time I reached my room, but all I could think about was her tiny body pressed against mine and the little sighs she made as she settled into me.

I slipped into bed and lay down with her, tucking us both under the blanket. Her head rested against my chest, and her tiny hand clutched at my shirt like she didn't want to let go.

"It's okay," I whispered, kissing the top of her soft, fluffy hair, my heart full of something I couldn't quite name but knew was important. "You're safe now. Your big sister will always take care of you. I promise."

My baby sister. My best friend. My first love.

The memory suddenly fades, curling away from my grasp as the portal shimmers and shrinks before me.

Endless blackness creeps up on the edges of my vision. My breath catches in my throat as I stare at the tiny, flickering image floating in the void; a picture of two little girls lying in bed together.

It was us.

My heart tightens painfully at the sight.

The younger version of myself, all messy hair and wide eyes, grins with pure, unfiltered joy.

I'm holding her so close, her tiny body nestled against mine as though I could keep her safe from everything in the world.

Her chubby hand clutches my shirt, her little face soft and peaceful in sleep.

I brush my fingers along my neck, and I can almost feel the warmth of her breath there.

Tears blur my vision, but I can't look away. Those were simpler times—times when all I had to do was hold her, love her, and everything was okay. Times when the world wasn't so sharp, and I wasn't so broken.

A tear slips free, trailing hot down my cheek. Then another, and another, until I can barely breathe through the ache in my chest. I watch the girl with the stars in her eyes, her heart full of love, and blissfully unaware of how badly she'll fail that little girl in her arms.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice cracking, the words swallowed by the darkness. My guilt feels like chains around my wrists, heavy and unrelenting. I should have done more, held on tighter, and kept her safe like I promised.

"Well," a familiar voice drawls, "this is depressing."

I whip around, my pulse thundering, and there she is.

Stepping out of the shadows as if she'd been a part of them all along.

Her mismatched eyes glint, sharp and predatory, her lips curling into a smile that makes my stomach churn.

I realise now, that smile; it's a lie, a mask of amusement hiding the venom beneath.

Haze looks around at the portals that hover in the air, scattered like stars in the void, each one glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. They pulse softly, alive and waiting, showing glimpses of my memories just beyond their shimmering surface.

"You weren't waking up." Haze sighs, sticking her hand through a random portal just to see if her hand disappears inside or not—it doesn't. I tried.

"I thought maybe you got caught up dreaming the ultimate fantasy.

You know, flying around on dragons, fighting evil Faes.

But it's just… your reality. I mean, I thought you read? "

She looks at me, feigning disappointment. I grit my teeth, glaring at her. "What are you doing here?"

"That kid of yours threatened me with a cleaver if I didn't wake you up." Her eyes widen, taking on a faraway, distant look, mimicking someone recalling a traumatic event. "I was practically shaking in my boots. My life flashed before my eyes. I mean, a cleaver, Reece. A fucking cleaver."

My body goes cold, but my blood burns, hatred searing through me like fire as I stare at her. "Stay away from my kid," I hiss, my voice low, trembling with anger and the sheer effort it takes not to throw myself at her.

"Actually, he should stay away from me. " Haze tilts her head, tapping her finger against her chin in thought. "If only his mother was around to teach him stranger danger, but she's too busy drowning in her past failures."

My hands clench and unclench, glaring at her coldly. "Get out of my head."

The images flash through my mind. Unbidden.

My friends, fighting for their goddamn lives against me.

I was their enemy. I pulled them into her trap.

I'm the reason Seth was outnumbered and defenceless.

I pushed Alissa off that rooftop. I saw the pain and betrayal in their eyes.

I heard them screaming my name, begging me to let them go, to let them live.

And my son—my sweet boy. The hurt in his eyes, the tears I had caused, the pain I saw after I had made his worst fears a reality. I broke my boy's heart; it was in my hands, and I crushed it. How do I come back from that? How will they forgive me? How do I forgive myself?

I feel the fury building inside me, a roar beneath my skin that's begging to break free.

I see her for what she is now—utterly irredeemable.

There's no humanity left in her, no chance of remorse or redemption.

She doesn't care about the lives she's destroyed, or the pain she's caused. She thrives on it.

"My father was wrong," I whisper, my words low and trembling in rage. "He thought he knew evil. He didn't. Do you know what he did when he found me holding a baby in my arms?"

Haze glances at the portal beside her, eyes blank as she peers inside. I didn't need to see; I knew what she was looking at: a little girl cradling a baby in her arms and her father snatching the baby away.

"The horror on his face," I say, tears spilling down my face. "He said I was impure. He said I needed to bathe, that I needed to ask for forgiveness."

The little girl's voice echoes from the portal, filling the space between us. " Why, Papa? "

" It's evil. It's an abomination. It's a sin. "

" No, Papa, " I say, my words echoing the little girl, " that's my baby sister ."

Haze turns to me then, her eyes cold and hollow. The mask she wears is gone, and I see her now. I see her for what she is. I look her dead in the eyes.

"You're the evil. The abomination. The sin—it's you. It's always been you."