Shattered [On Hold]

07. Shattered

- Kady -

"That's impossible," Sam says with a chuckle.

"I know that's impossible Sam."

"You've been too stressed today. Are you okay?" he asks with a concerned look.

And this is the reason why I didn't want to tell him.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" He sounds skeptical.

"Yes, Sam. I'm sure. Can we please go now?"

"Are you having the nightmares again?"

I hesitate. I had told Sam and everyone else that I have stopped having nightmares completely. That was the only way they wouldn't treat me like a psychopath on the verge of breaking down.

"No, I'm not," I say after a moment, though I knew that Sam will catch my lie.

"Kady..."

I sigh in defeat, "Yes?"

"Do you need to-"

"No, I don't need to talk. I'm perfectly fine."

"Are you?" He eyes me, dubious.

"Yes. Can we go now?" I don't wait for his reply and start walking in a random direction. Sam starts walking behind me. Thankfully, he stays quiet.

I stop in my tracks. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"It was as if..." Someone was laughing.

"What is it, Kady?"

"Nothing." I shake my head. This is turning out to be hella spooky.

Just when I was about to start walking again, I hear it. Distant talking.

I look at Sam. "There are people here. Listen."

I am sure it isn't my imagination now. Among all the birdsong coming in lulls and bursts and the occasional rustling of the leaves, we could clearly hear the distant chatter.

After listening for a while, Sam looks at me and says, "Let's go."

We trot for a while, trying our best to follow the sounds, and finally, we come to a stop.

I freeze.

There, in front of us, was a large clearing. It was as if the clearing wasn't natural, as if someone cleared off the trees on purpose. Intervened. And right in the center of the clearing was a car.

With peeling paint, red-brown rust and the layer of dust covering it, the car looks like it has been stuck here for years, witnessing the harsh seasons pass; long forgotten. A large dent on one side and the door half off its hinges as if something big had slammed into it from the side. Right in the center of the windshield is a large gaping hole, and the glass is grey-brown with dust. The side windows are completely smashed in and shattered, with sharp glass shards still jutting from the doorframe edges.

"Shit..." Sam murmured, "Kady-"

"I'm okay," I say, but my voice betrays my fear.

I turn around to leave but my limbs move as if some inexperienced person is controlling them.

No. I can't lose control here. It's been six months. Not now.

I continue scurrying out of the clearing with my iPod still clutched tightly in my hand when Sam calls out, "Kady, wait up!"