p u r i t y

c h a p t e r 5

There was too much death.

I smelled the decay of the bodies. Countless amounts of them, piled on each other. Their insides were dribbling out from their stomachs, trickling with blood. Nobody was left - not one person alive.

Exposed brains throbbing amongst the debris, limbs scattered around like pretty little accessories, and pulsing hearts (at least I hoped that was what they were). It was a bloodbath turned ugly.

Each corpse was dressed in a midnight black robe with pointy peaks. It almost looked like the KKK was assassinated , but they wore white instead.

I looked to the left, and saw what I never thought I would see in a million years. Everyone I cared about, dead. Lucas was lying in a bloody bathtub, a note with rushed writing beside it. Zoe was dangling limply from a tree, a noose around her neck. Will was slumped in a puddle of alcohol, eyes wide open, the empty bottle still in his hand. Nicole was stretched out on the floor, a giant hole through her mouth, which she had inflicted with the gun that lay beside her. Last but not least, I saw Dad. White liquid pouring from his mouth, I knew he had overdosed on his pills.

"Elodie," I heard a mellifluous, magical voice.

"Mom?"

She was beautiful.

I knew she was my mom; she had my blonde hair and facial structure. Why was she here? Before I had the chance to wonder, she reached up and gently stroked my cheek. Her touch felt serene.

Then it was just the two of us, encircled by white pillars everywhere. I was finally alone with my mother, the woman I'd never met before, but admired. I looked down at myself to find that I was in a floor-length white dress, identical to what Mom was wearing.

"Where are we?" I had to converse.

"In a dream."

"That part's obvious, I know I'm dreaming. Are we in heaven?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Come and walk."

I linked my arm with hers and began stepping on the white air that was surrounding us. It didn't look like we were going anywhere in particular.

"Mom, what's going on?"

"You're exactly how I pictured you."

My heart swelled up with joy, knowing that she'd thought about the daughter she never knew. I'd definitely thought about her, and from what I'd heard, she was loved by everyone she met.

"I'm very proud of who you've grown up to be," she continued, "I've looked over you for many years."

I didn't know how to respond. I just wanted her to talk and talk and talk. Her voice was sweet music to my ears.

"Now, what you just saw was a warning."

Not what I expected. Was she talking about the dead people?

"A warning?"

"Elodie, you have to listen very carefully to what I'm about to tell you. You are in grave danger. There's a ton that you don't know, but now I have to try my absolute best to protect you. Although I'm not sure it'll be enough."

"Wait, what are you talking about?!"

"I don't have much time, she might know that you're here," she was starting to panic.

"Who?!"

"Elodie."

I turned around, aware that we had company. Out of a shining vortex stepped someone I never thought I'd see in my dreams.

"Brandon?"

Why was the barista from Julianne's here? He was also dressed in white. A suit, to be exact. It was almost clashing with his hair.

"What are you doing here?"

"Elodie, don't listen to her," he urged.

"You leave my daughter alone!" Mom yelled at him.

"I'm the one you should trust, not her. Take my hand," he ignored her, and took a step closer. He extended his hand.

"Elodie, he's lying, you don't even know him," Mom shook my shoulders slightly.

"She doesn't know you either!"

"How dare you!"

"Elodie, take my hand, please," Brandon begged with his intimidating eyes.

"If you touch my daughter, you will regret it." Mom propositioned herself in front of where I was stood, dumbfounded.

"You're dead, lady. You're not exactly in a place to threaten anybody."

"Oh, you wanna bet?"

They looked at each other with cold expressions. I was confused and a little dazed. Why were they arguing? Why shouldn't I trust one of them?

"Elodie, are you okay?"

I was pulled out of my dream by Dad's troubled voice. I opened my eyes to see an anxious look on his slightly stubbly face.

"You were yelling in your sleep."

It was only then I realised I was sweating, and breathing erratically.

"I was?" I sat up, putting a hand to my forehead to cease the nausea. I threw the covers off my legs, causing goosebumps to rise on my thighs.

"I thought someone was in your room. Did you have a nightmare?"

That was when I noticed the gun in his hands.

"Where did you find a gun?"

He glanced down at it, and instantly looked ashamed. He knew that owning a gun without permission or a valid license was a serious crime. If someone was in your daughter's room, you'd take a baseball bat with you - not a gun. That way you wouldn't hurt the wrong person.

"I bought it a few weeks ago, off some guy in a van.."

"Dad, how many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to worry?! You've gone way too far."

"I'm sorry, but I won't take any risks. I told you, I thought someone was in here." He unloaded the gun and slid it into his robe pocket.

"Well, they aren't. What are you afraid of?! You've got problems, fair enough, but a gun?! Seriously?! I'm seventeen; you have to accept the fact that I'm an adult and I'm capable of taking care of myself. You're going insane."

He turned round and began sulking out of the room, but I was suddenly consumed by guilt. "I'm sorry. That was... harsh."

"Don't be. It's 2am, you should go to sleep."

I got up and hugged him tightly. In the end, I was glad that I had him, and grateful that he cared. I'll never unsee what I saw in my dream. It was truly horrifying.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too, princess."

I wasn't looking at him when he said it, but I knew he was smiling. He walked out of the room with a yawn.