The Roar In Her Voice

Timber!

Madame Paray was tied to the wall, her body forming an X. Her eyes were staring right at me. I felt another scream escape my lips. Who would've done this?

She looked very, very dead. Her eyes were glassy and empty. Her body was limp. Yet I didn't see any blood, bruises or broken bones. Not even a scratch.

Frankie. Did he do this? More importantly, was I next?

I took a step forward, determined not to be scared, but I was failing. I was very scared, very confused, and my situation crashed down on me, forcing me to realize what a mess I was in.

I felt tears escape my eyes, and I didn't stop it. I should've cried when I realized I was lost in some strange place I saw in my dream. I should've cried when the crazy gardener attacked me. I should've cried when Madame Paray challenged me to beat the Tree Wall.

The hopelessness of all of it forced more tears out of my eyes.

What made me think that I could escape this place, beat the gardener, and beat the Tree Wall? I was just a regular 12-year-old schoolgirl who went to the mall with her best friend and woke up here.

I heard someone scream behind me, and I whirled around in surprise. Frankie stood at the door, eyes wide, mouth open. Then he saw me.

He flew at me so fast I didn't have time to react. He pinned me against the wall. He hissed, "Did you do this?"

"No!" I screamed desperately, as I struggled against his firm hold. "I thought you did it!"

"I would never! Did you see who did this?" Frankie's eyes blazed with anger.

"No, you dummy! If I saw who did it, I wouldn't have suspected you!"

He let me go. I backed away from him as much as I could, pressing my back to the wall. "Jerk," I snapped.

He sighed and ran his hands through his white hair. "Perhaps we should look around for clues."

"No," I said, "No! I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you. Why am I here? How did I get here? Why are you doing this? Who are you two? Wait, I don't want to know. I just want to go home!" I sobbed as I sat down on the floor. I tucked my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on it as more tears began to fall.

Frankie didn't say anything. I just sat there and cried, cried for the life I lost, cried for the situation I am in, cried for the uncertain future.

I was hiccuping and sobbing like mad, but I didn't care. I could've thought about what was happening, how did it happen, but all I was thinking of was why, why and why.

Frankie tossed something at my feet. I didn't want to escape the comfort of my own arms, so I didn't bother to peek. Sad to think that the only arms that will grant me comfort right now are my own.

After crying for some time, I decided to look at what Frankie had tossed me. A mirror. My face looked like a mess; tearstained, red, and ugly. It was so mortifying yet so funny that a giggle escaped my lips.

I looked up, and found Frankie laying Madame Paray on a mattress. He held her with great care and steady hands. I found myself raising an eyebrow; the look on Frankie's face seemed like more than concern.

I stood up, looking at Paray. "So... We look around for clues?"

"May I ask what you came here for?" Frankie's tone bordered on curiosity and suspicion.

"Shovels," I replied nonchalantly.

"For...?" Frankie pressed on, not willing to let the subject drop.

I gave him a duh look. "For digging, obviously. I wasn't going to wack the trees with it, that's for sure."

"Digging what?" He didn't seem suspicious anymore, just confused.