C13 Adaline’s Point of View

I get up, stretching as I wake.

Dreams have always fascinated me.

To be under, asleep, and find yourself in another world, where everything is different, where the logic is strange, and nothing makes sense. You find yourself doing even stranger things, and then you wake up, and it all starts to fade, like mist dissolving. You try to hold on, to grasp it, but it slips away, inevitably, until you’re left with nothing. Just the knowledge that you dreamed.

It’s insane. Divine.

Sometimes, I think it’s proof that there’s an alternate universe. That theory is probably just madness, heavily influenced by the Multiverse of Madness I binge-watched last night.

I frown, trying to remember what I dreamed about, but all I can recall are a pair of neon green eyes. Which is weirder, because I’ve never met anyone with neon green eyes. But the dream felt familiar, like I’d had it before. Like I knew someone.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the dreamy fog, chalking it up to the movie’s influence. Obviously, my stupid subconscious absorbed it.

I remember yesterday’s incident and wonder if it’s somehow affected my subconscious. Maybe the trauma or fear triggered something. Or maybe it’s just my psychologist brain spiraling. I hate how I can’t just experience something without psychoanalyzing it.

Now that I think about it, did my self-care day actually work?

Still, I’m grateful I met Ashley and her lovely husband. Even if it was fleeting, I got to be part of something. But here I am, feeling that familiar emptiness. That void.

What I need is to get thoroughly fucked and drunk. I need to forget, or make bad decisions.

I make my bed, then walk to the kitchen, pouring cornflakes into a bowl, adding milk, and eating in silence. I glance down at myself, old, worn-out Hulk baggy top, just panties underneath. I’ve had this top since I left home. I could replace it, but I just can’t seem to part with it. Another perk of living alone: I don’t have to.

I turn on the television and sink onto the couch carelessly. Flipping through the channels, I pause when the news comes on, it’s about Soho. My frown deepens, my curiosity piqued.

“Authorities are still investigating the events of last night, where . .”

I switch the channel. Bored already.

I keep flipping until I land on a music channel. I let it play while I check my phone, frowning at over thirty missed calls, Cyprus and Zoe combined. What the hell?

Almost immediately, I hear rapid knocking on my door. I get up.

“Who the fuck is that?” I snarl, then pause, surprised that I even snarled.

“Open the fucking door, Adaline Vulkov!” Zoe yells.

Puzzled, I open the door and see her, along with my darling boyfriend. That’s sarcasm.

“What?” I snap, as both of them look at me like I’m a ghost.

“Why didn’t you pick up, Rory?” Cyp snaps, and I glare at him.

“I was fucking asleep,” I snap back. He takes a step toward me, but I stand my ground, looking at both of them.

“Did something happen?” I ask softly.

“You weren’t answering your phone. We thought something had happened. You were out late, and the whole ‘new friend’ thing made me uneasy,” Zoe says.

My frown returns. “I’m sorry you were both worried, but I don’t need permission from either of you to do anything. Definitely not to make friends,” I say, hands on my waist, glaring at my boyfriend and my best friend.

“Stop acting like a fucking child,” Cyp snaps, and that’s it.

“You forget your place, Buckland. Don’t ever speak to me like that. In fact, you need to leave. I’m tired. I had a long night. I don’t have the time to entertain or indulge your tantrums. So get out,” I growl, glaring fiercely. He takes a step back, and I relish it.

Zoe looks at him. “Go, Cyprus. I’ll call you.”

He looks at me, and for a second, I swear I see the devil beneath his eyes. I tilt my head, studying him. Then he says:

“I love you, Aurora. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you scared me. I can’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.”

I watch him leave and sober up, then turn to Zoe with apologetic but mischievous eyes. She shakes her head and laughs.

__

“What do you mean you had a long night?” Zoe asks, settling on the couch with me, stealing my cornflakes.

“I was walking home when I saw two men following me. I tried to run and hide. I thought I’d lost them, but then they were behind me again. So I yelled at them to fuck off. They didn’t follow me after that. They were probably strangers who thought I was crazy,” I say with a mild smile.

“That was dangerous, Rory,” she says.

I shrug. “They didn’t follow me after I yelled.”

“They just backed off?”

I frown, thinking. “I ran after I yelled. I didn’t see them again.”

She nods. “Probably frat boys. Or drunk. Maybe even playing a prank. And when you yelled, they backed off, seeing you weren’t interested.”

“Maybe,” I say, then remember something. “They didn’t look frat boy-ish. They were huge. Menacing. But you’re right.”

She nods, then frowns. “Did anything happen when you yelled at them?”

I look at her. “Why are you asking? Nothing happened. You wanna be a detective now? I’m fine. Whoever they were, I yelled, and they left.”

She looks relieved.

“I’ve been having weird dreams,” I add. “But they fade faster than normal dreams. I can’t remember them, just pieces. It’s weird.”

Her eyes widen with worry, and I curse myself for telling her. Zoe is soft. Kind. The best of us. The fairest of us all.

“That’s not good,” she says.

I wave her off. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

It works. She grins, and I lay my head on her lap. The bowl of milk sits forgotten on the table.

“How was your outing with your new friend?” she asks.

I laugh at her obvious jealousy. “I met her husband.”

“She’s married?” Zoe gasps.

I laugh. “That was my reaction too. But her husband is beautiful and kind. I adored hearing their stories. It made me jealous.”

Zoe falls silent. Then she sits me up and faces me. “Talk to me, baby.”

I swallow. The knot in my throat tightens. “I feel empty.”

Pity floods her eyes. Tears flood mine.

“I feel really empty. Like I’m wasting my life. I don’t know how to live. I feel like I’m always taking the wrong step. I just want someone to tell me how to live my life. Who to love. Who to leave. What to eat. What to wear. How to feel. I’m tired of second-guessing everything. Tired of being unsure. I feel like I have no purpose.”

She’s listening.

“At Ashley’s place, with her husband, I was so envious. So jealous of the life they’ve created. It made me sad to know I’ll probably never have that. I feel like I’ll keep running from my past forever. And I’m tired. Sometimes I think about running away to a village where I know no one. Starting over. Selling vegetables. Eating fruit with the love of my life. I’m tired of this darkness. It’s in me. And sometimes… I think the darkness is me.”

I stare at the wall, saying nothing else. Just letting the ache wash through me.

“I’m so sorry, Aurora,” she whispers. “So sorry you feel like that. Is that why you chased Cyprus away?”

I stare at her. There are tears in her eyes. And I wonder, who is she crying for?

“Why did you and Cyp come here together?” I ask.

And then it happens.

One moment, I’m staring at her face. The next, I can hear her heartbeat. The slow, steady thud. Then it speeds up, right after my question.

I glance at her throat. I can feel the beat of it. The movement. My own heart picks up. What the fuck is happening?

“We met at your door,” she says casually.

But I can hear her heart racing. She’s lying.

I try not to react, silently freaking out.

Then a smell hits me. Dominant. Specific. Overpowering.

I tilt my head, confused, trying to shake it off. My eyes widen.

“Avocado toast,” I say aloud. Zoe frowns.

“You’re craving it? That’s what I had this morning.” She smiles. “I could make you some.”

My heart pounds again.

Because I shouldn’t know that. I shouldn’t be able to smell what she ate hours ago.

It’s insane. Ridiculous.

“Aurora?” Zoe says, watching me.

I force a smile. “I don’t want avocado toast anymore. Let’s order pizza.”

She smiles but still looks skeptical.

“I’m sorry you feel like that, Aurora. But you’ll be fine. The dark days will pass. One day, you’ll be fully happy again.”

And I believe her.

How stupid of me.

Not knowing the darkest days of my life are still to come.