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LAVINIA

Bright, warm light caresses my face, and something soft and fluffy envelops me.

It feels good.

Peaceful.

I imagine soaring between the clouds, free and weightless, having shed all the bodily burdens I carried.

I always thought everything would black out when I left the world, that the notion of a heaven or an afterlife was just a ruse to make dying more bearable.

But that comforting heat on my cheek and the hopeful brightness beyond my closed eyes sure aren’t a ruse.

I want to go to it, soak up the warmth and see the light.

But my eyes won’t quite open yet, and I feel like I’m moving through a haze.

It’s okay, though, the haze is calm and free of pain, so I take my time.

Slowly, my awareness awakens, and I start sensing other things too.

Fresh air and a faint scent of pine.

I imagine trees so tall they reach into the clouds, infusing the ethereal space with the calming scent of a forest.

I hope I’ll get to go into a real forest and see more than treetops.

Maybe venture into some mountains and enjoy the peaceful view over undisturbed landscapes.

But something isn’t right.

As the foggy sensation lifts, the floaty feeling dissipates.

The heat and the light are still there, but so are the bodily and emotional pain I thought I’d shed.

Cruel memories flash across my inner eye, breaking up the peaceful clouds and darkening the atmosphere.

A heavy and frail sensation tightens around my very bones, and fear and stress creep beneath my skin.

The feeling of being alive.

I know it even before I open my eyes.

Once again, faith won’t grant me the sweet relief of death.

I swallow hard, keeping my eyes closed even as I’m awake enough to open them.

I don’t want to face the cruel world—the small confinement and the perpetually dim light of my narrow existence.

I want to hold on to the scent of pine and the feeling of sunlight for just a moment longer before they slip from my grasp and once again become vague memories.

But reality presses on, urging my attention to my body.

The raw sensation in my throat.

The lack of sound when I swallow and accidentally whimper.

The memory of losing my voice.

My eyes snap open, and a silent scream sticks in my throat as the world draws in and my pulse cranks into a hazardous pace.

I try to move, but I’m frozen in place—I’ve been ever since I lost the only thing left that matters to me.

I can’t seem to remember how to make my muscles work.

I try to scan the place with my eyes, but they’re blurry.

All I see is something bright.

Sharp.

It hurts.

Have I gone blind too?

A hand comes to my shoulder, and I try to scream.

But even as the scream dislodges, all that comes out is a hoarse, wheezy sound, choking me with the horrific confrontation of my lost voice.

“Lavinia, you’re safe,” a deep, rough, but also soft voice says.

A voice that instinctively calms me.

Terror still pulses in my veins as my sight slowly starts working, revealing flashes of a room.

A window.

I blink, realizing the thing that’s blinding me is the sun.

A bright round orb of yellow staring at me through an open window.

I shake my head softly, the shock knocking me out of my paralysis.

Then a new wave of fear comes rushing as I blink to take in the room.

It’s simple but beautiful.

Tall, arched ceilings, wooden panels, and a fireplace of white stone.

But nothing good ever comes of beauty and riches.

This is just a new version of hell.

I scream again, the hoarse wheeze reminding me of just how terrible this new hell is.

I whip my head from side to side as the scream grows louder in my mind but never escapes into the room.

Two large hands grab my face, and then I’m staring up at the big, brutal man who had become my whole world.

The familiar features snap me out of the panic.

Then my eyes roam over his face.

It feels like a strange dream seeing those features in daylight, surrounded by something that isn’t misery and confinement.

There’s a low whine at my other side, and I startle as something wet brushes my arm.

“Rex, out,” Dorin orders, and I look to see a flash of fur as a big dog runs out of the room.

Returning my attention to Dorin, I just stare at him, having no idea how to react.

A flood of emotion comes rushing as I realize he came back for me.

I part my lips to ask one of the many questions suddenly swirling in my mind.

Why did you come for me?

Where are we?

Where’s Zoltan?

Am I safe?

Are you keeping me?

But when I try to give voice to one of them, only air comes out.

My world crashes again, the emotions gnawing and biting so hard I close in on myself, shutting down and shutting off.

I stare out the window—at treetops rising in the distance, the blue sky, and the bright sun.

I don’t consider why they’re there or how I came to be so close to them.

I just stare at them and hold on for dear life, because they’re the only thing that will keep me from the spiraling agony of being alive.