The Strange Tale Of Ayla Jae

Chapter Ten - "It's A Terrible Business, Frodo...Going Out Your Door."

The flame I see is just growing and growing. I've never seen one so eager and vehement in its goal on swallowing up its resource with reckless abandon. Everywhere, it's everywhere. My entire body disappearing away in seconds, washed away by this viscous yet emphermal cloud.

"Ayla. Ayla? Did you hear me?"

The forces, ready to whisk me away to who know where, almost complete their overtake on my feelings and soul. Am I panicking? I don't really know.

"Ayla!"

It's almost done. I'm going, going. Wait. Is that a voice?

"Damn it, girl. Come back!"

And just like that, I'm in the living room, staring deeply into the wall space between Chloe and beaten down Dave. I'm almost afraid to look at either one of them, knowing full well I've just spent probably a few minutes having a near breakdown.

"Hey, you're safe, girl." I feel a hand on my thigh, and it causes me to look over. Chloe's looking at me with that patented mix of confusion and kindness. I pause for a moment before shaking my head, attempting to lessen my usual embarrassment.

"Sorry. I spaced out, again. Hard. I just needed to process. I kind of forgot what that, umm...was."

I find myself digging into my pocket. The familiar metal surface of my pendent touches my fingers. I slide it out and fidget with it in my hand.

"My parents?"

I ask the question, but my mind is feverishly trying to remember whatever piece of memory I can scrape up.

"You don't remember, do you?" Dave says plainly.

"No. There's nothing. I keep trying," I say fidgeting harder, "but there's just nothing. I know it's dark, and it just freaks me out trying to think ab--."

I almost lose the moment, before Chloe pats my leg, keeping me grounded.

Dave doesn't saying, but he looks at Chloe. She shuffles a bit and stares at my frustrated face.

"Ayla's never actually told me anything about when she was a kid. I mean, it's like she just appeared. But most people who show up in your life are like that. It didn't change though. Ever since we were eight, it's like she has no memory from before. She just showed up at school one day. Any time I asked where she was from, it was a gamble on how it might affect her. I hated seeing her like that. I was young, but I could see it pain her, and she would always tell me she didn't like who she was when it happened."

"I don't like who I am right now." I say, abruptly.

"It's not something we bring up, really." Chloe says. She shifts and turns more towards me. "Not worth it, normally. I guess this situation isn't exactly normal though."

I hate that she's right.

"You know her parents? They're here?"

"Yes."

"Well, why is that some horrible thing? Enough to want to hurt you?" Chloe replies.

"Because there's more to this than just a bad case of, well...'bad parenting'."

I'm listening, but I can tell that I'm distant. There's spots, bits of blurry memories that field the inside of my eye lids when I close them, pretending to blink.

"What she's experiencing is connected, but it's more than trauma."

"More?" Chloe asks. I hear her shuffle around.

"Then what is wrong with me?" I demand.

I look up and glare intensely at my friend Dave. He clearly knows more than he's letting on, but he's standing up for me, for us. I don't know what that all amounts to, but if there ever was a moment in time that I won't forget, it's right now.