Heartstrings

Chapter 27: Black frEYEday

Emma's Perspective

The hours passed in a blur of agony and my mind began to whirl as exhaustion gently tugged me beyond the realm of consciousness.

Colors and lights pooled together until I was staring down at the sneakers I wore when I was nine. Looking up, I saw a nine year old Jake and Sam laughing and playing with the Healy house as a backdrop. I knew this memory - I'd just taught them about the world of Narnia, and Sam and I played as Peter and Susan Pevensie, while Jake insisted on being Caspian.

The three of us ran through the woods until it was just me and Jake running - Sam had fallen behind. Under a tree, Jake and I rested and giggled until I realized his hand was on mine, gently squeezing. I stopped giggling as I looked down at his hand, and I glanced back at his face to see him staring into my eyes with a look I'd never seen before.

- Emmy?

He'd called me that sometimes when we were children, and I'd liked it because only he could say it just right.

- Yes?

I was afraid of the look in his eyes, but it also stirred something in me - I longed for him to look at me that way, always.

- Do Caspian and Susan get married?

My little cheeks turned pink.

- Of course not...

His brows furrowed - that wasn't the answer he'd hoped for.

- ... Caspian becomes king and Susan goes far away to England.

He grabbed my other hand now, too.

- You won't go far away, will you?

- I don't know... maybe someday I'll want to see England, too.

- Okay. But promise me that if you ever do go far away, you'll take me with you.

I giggled, as I'd pictured tucking him into my suitcase with me wherever I went. I liked that thought. I squeezed his hands-

- I promise.

He beamed and focused on something beneath my nose. My lips, maybe?

- Does Caspian ever kiss Susan?

- I...

I knew the answer, but I was rendered speechless, and now he looked at me with a hypnotizing stare. For the first time I noticed his oceanic eyes, the curve of his lips, his childish, rosy cheeks. He crept closer until I was sure our lips would meet, but a droplet splattered on his forehead and painted a bright, red streak down his face. Then a warm droplet hit my forearm and I looked down to study it. Jake screamed and I looked up at him and followed his gaze upwards into a tree.

It was his mother. But instead of hanging as my conscious self knew she'd died, she'd been nailed to a high arm of the tree in a near-crucifixal position. Jake screamed and I ran through the woods, back to the house to get help.

When I got there, I'd grown older - I was now seventeen. I threw open the door inside and called for Jake's dad.

- Mr. Healy!? Someone, help!

No answer. Panicking, I ran up to his office, where the door was locked. From inside I could hear two voices - Mr. Healy, and an older Jake.

- You piece of shit!

Mr. Healy's voice rang through the walls of the house and a loud crash came, along with the sound of Jake's pain.

- Agh!!! Stop, please!! Emma?!