For Now | Dreaming Trilogy | Book 1 (HEAVY CONSTRUCTION)

Phoenix | Past and Present

Fire. It was always fire. I could feel the flames lapping up to my knees, but I didn't care. This wasn't real fire. I'd known real fire all those years ago. This wasn't it. The smoke was too heavy. The fire was too bright. The sparks hurt too much.

I had the flames burning my "sister" within seconds. I knew it wasn't her. Her eyes were too dark. Her hair was too short. It was so easy, it was almost disappointing.

I was back in the real world ten minutes after leaving the Dream Void. I shook my head. "Guys?" I called into the dark.

No response.

Suddenly, I felt a cold wind. Shyanne. It had to be Shyanne. I chased the wind, trying to find its source. Let's not talk about how I kept tripping over roots, okay?

Sure enough, as I emerged from the thickest of trees, Shyanne was curled up on the ground. Her hair was turning to frost, her eyes glazed over.

"Shyanne?" I asked.

No response.

"Shyanne." I said, more sternly this time.

She twitched.

I let out a huff. "Knock it off!" I finally shouted, and gave her a good shake.

Shyanne woke with a gasp and looked at me, shivering. The frost slowly melted, leaving her wet and scared. "Phoenix?" She asked, looking at me.

I let myself smile ever so slightly. "Yeah. Just me. Sorry."

Shyanne gave me a grin as I helped her up. "You... I can't believe it. I was... I was freezing. My father was there, and..." She trailed off, her green eyes darkening.

"Your father abuses you, doesn't he, Shyanne?" I finally asked, noting the makeup dripping off her cheek with the thawed frost.

Shyanne's eyes grew wide and her hand raced up to cover the bruise. "I..."

I shook my head. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me anything."

"No. I-It's just... No one except," Shyanne paused, gulping what I knew were tears back. "Jael knew..." She looked down. "It's not often. He doesn't-"

I cut her off, the rage boiling inside me suddenly. "Shyanne!" I cried. "Don't you dare sympathize with him." My hands clenched into fists. "He has no right to hit you! I don't care what he claims you did, Shy. You are a person, not a damned punching bag! If he wants to take his unearned anger out, then let him go play some baseball or something. You're a human being, and you deserve respect."

Shyanne stared at me, wide eyed. "You don't understand." She whispered.

I almost screamed. She didn't know. She didn't know how my biological father was. Yeah. Mackenzie was my half sister. Mom had Mack with her first husband, Peter. When they got a divorce, Peter wasn't happy. One day, after school, he found me. I was in, like, third grade. It wasn't pretty. I went home crying my eyes out, covered in my own blood and severely traumatized. He'd thrown me around like a rag doll, going on later to rape me in the alley way a block from school.

She didn't know about my ex-boyfriend, either. The one who acted like he loved me, but abused me and threatened to kill my sister if I told anyone. She didn't know how much I knew, how many times I cried myself to sleep and hid my own scars. She didn't know just how much I resented that she tried to reason with a bastard who hits his own.

I looked her in the eyes, and I could tell by the fear in her face that my eyes were glowing with fury. "I understand far more than you can possibly comprehend." I growled out. I could feel my fists shaking because I was gripping them so tightly. "Never be such a fool to underestimate me again."

Shyanne stayed silent for a moment, then looked me in the eyes. Her green gaze was stern, but compassionate. "Who hurt you so badly, Phoenix, that you'd understand?"

If her words had had physical form, I'd have staggered back as if someone had smacked me. Luckily, her words were just the same as mine; sounds. Her's held meaning, though. "Everyone." I finally mumbled.

There was a deep, terrible silence, suddenly surrounding us.

"Let's just find Shane. We don't have time to just stand around." I grumbled. As I turned on my heel to walk where I thought Shane could be, I heard someone walking behind us.

"That's you, right, Phoenix?" Shyanne said, her voice shaking.

"Ah, yes, Shyanne, because I'm totally behind us." I said, sarcastically, my voice flat and bored.

"Then who was it?"

I rolled my eyes and looked around. My heart stopped, and I hoped my face didn't show the fear I suddenly felt. Behind Shyanne stood a young boy, about the age of ten. His face was contorted into a scream, his hands grasping his throat. Water poured off of him, pooling by his bare and cut feet. Every two seconds, his form flickered After the screaming without sound, his head would droop and his cold blue eyes would pierce into me, dark hair falling into his face.

"D-Don't turn around." My words stumbled out of my mouth.

Shyanne gulped. "What is it?"

I looked at her, shaking. "Something I have to deal with."