𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑁~ 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑒

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I held my eyes wide open, but only saw blackness. I then heard a familiar voice beside me.

"Well done, Camilla," said Dugal cheerfully.

"Dug!?" I cried in the darkness, "I can't see you!"

My friend chuckled beside me, "It's alright, Las, you haven't gone blind. You're just entering into a new- a new setting."

"What? I thought I was done!? Haven't I completed all the tasks?"

"Nearly," said Dugal, "there is just one more. One that your friends did not have to face."

I was extremely confused. Just as I thought I was finally going to get out of the allusions, I was told I had to complete another. It was aggravating.

    "You see Cammi, you are holding onto a lot of guilt from leaving Mada," Dug continued, "and while that is normal for all escapees to an extent, we need to be sure that your regrets will not hold you back here in Sarosa. You're nearly there, young lady. Stay strong, you can do it!"

    "Wait, Dugal!" I exclaimed as his final message echoed in my ears. He was already gone.

Slowly, once again the world around me became clearer. I was on my feet, and a strange sensation took over my body. Soon, the blackness faded away completely and my surroundings became completely distinct. I was in the middle of a raging storm, rain pouring down on me. Screams echoed through the air as people ran past me towards shelter. I recognized this place all too well.

I was back in Mada.

I turned on the spot, desperately wiping rain water out of my eyes. I searched around for something, anything that would reveal why I was in Mada. I had been in that very place twice before, once on the day of our escape, and once in the nightmare I had had on our first night in In-Between. I noticed that the gate was closed, but the truck's tracks were freshly engraved into the muddy ground.

I decided that my best option was to head towards the downtown area, as there was nothing happening where I stood. I made my way toward the civilians who stood huddled under overhangs and entrances to shops. I recognized a few people as my past teachers and classmates, and the memories sent a shiver through me. My eyes caught a glimpse of Ms. Fatima, leading a group of students who had been my classmates towards a small shoe shop for cover. I followed them, not knowing what else to do.

Ms. Fatima stopped once she reached the shop's entrance, attempting to straighten out her wet, gray mop of hair. The students gathered around her, shivering and wringing out their damp clothing.

"Children, I am going to take attendance to ensure that everyone is here," a frazzled Ms. Fatima explained, as the students began to sit down on the concrete. Ms. Fatima pulled out the attendance sheet and began calling out names, which the students responded with "here".

Suddenly, I nearly jumped out of my skin as Ms. Fatima called out, "Camilla Rowan?" She was searching around the group for me, although I was in plain sight.

"Here?" I answered, as more of a question than a statement. But Ms. Fatima continued scanning the group, not hearing or seeing me.

"Ms. Fatima?" I asked, waving a hand slowly in the air. She didn't respond, but simply marked something down on her paper, a puzzled look on her face.

"Is Callum Rowan present?" my confused teacher asked. No one replied. She frowned. "Sariah Jane? Arlo Dale?" Still, no answer. It became clear to me that no one could see me, I was simply observing the situation.

𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑃𝑃𝐸𝐷 𝐼𝑁 𝐹𝑅𝐸𝐸𝐷𝑂𝑀Where stories live. Discover now