the Book of Twist

❦❧One - Darkening Storms❦❧

Every night, it would start with the sound of their voices.

They were like velvet, the lilting voices of Beau and Bay. I would hear them every night, and the brothers would lead me away, to a place where I did not feel fear.

Where none of my nightmares could follow me. And that, dear readers, is how I lost my soul. Because it was in the arms of the unknown where I felt safest. This, if you haven't figured out yet, is where I went terribly wrong.

Night had graced the outside like a starry curtain, filling the fading light of the monochrome skies and producing a moon behind inky botches of storm clouds.

It was the night of my best friend Samantha Erwin's funeral. I stepped into my room, the cold draft that came with nighttime chilling the four walls. I barely felt it, but that might have been because I was already shivering and sniffling, having been drenched. My simple black dress was dripping and my flats and legs were caked in mud.

Right in the middle of Sammy's service, the clouds had opened and dumped an almighty torrent down on us. Some guests had fwapped open a few umbrellas, but when the winds broke through the storm, many eventually just shot Samantha's mother apologetic glances and left early for the reception. I stayed by Mrs. Erwin's side, even when my dad and stepmother abandoned me.

Brooke had whined and pushed him into leaving, I knew. The weather was too much for her to handle, with her porcelain skin and how it messed up her chignon. Plus, she couldn't very well get her new pumps too dirty, now could she? They were Chanel, and three hundred dollars to boot- and that was without tax! And my dad, ever the pushover, had to agree. I'd watched them leave, our little silver Sedan disappearing from my view as salty rain filled my sight. Rain, of course. It was the rain. At the very least, when the rain poured, I could cry. No one would have to know. Daddy and gran hated it when I cried.

I could feel a cold creeping up my spine now, and a tickle in my nose came just before I sneezed, the blast of it nearly knocking me out of my shoes. Oh great, a cold. Just what I needed.

Mrs. Erwin had taken me home after the service had ended. The rain had died down near the end, and the burial would be finished, but the poor widow couldn't handle watching the casket being put into the ground and had quickly thanked the people from the funeral home, before ushering me into her car. I didn't argue. Something had risen in my throat when I saw that casket. I almost didn't believe it, you know. I almost couldn't believe she was in that cold, sleek, wooden box. The scene was horrifically familiar, but back then it hadn't been Mrs. Erwin at my side. It had been Samantha.

Times had certainly changed.

It was the beat up red truck Samantha used to drive me to school in every day that we hopped into. Her shark tooth necklace still hung from the rearview mirror, and the Metallica sticker she'd stamped on the dashboard our sophomore year was still there, it's edges peeling. Only a year ago, hunh, Sammy? I'd thought. Feels like yesterday.

I hadn't wanted to go to the reception. I didn't know anyone there. However I had thought to stay for Mrs. Erwin's sake- but she wouldn't hear of it.

A couple of family members and the only remaining guests crowded into cars and headed back to the Erwin house for the reception, but Mrs. Erwin detoured to take me home. I held her hand, because it was shaking, even as her eyes glinted with grief and a ferocious fury as they sought the road, a fury that came whenever she thought of my parents' treatment of me. The fact that they could be so selfish, so cruel, so unspeakably rude to Mrs. Erwin on such a day made my blood boil and my vision shadow. Her cinnamon brown eyes were just as Samantha's had been whenever she was upset and the sight made my throat close up.

I'd tried to hide my parents hatred of me, both out of humiliation and because I did not want pity from others. Gran had always taught me to be strong and mask any weakness people could use against me. Gran was right of course, but nothing could ever get past the Erwins. They'd always had a sixth sense, a keen eye to things beneath the surface.

And when I got home, I'd found my parents had already gone to bed. I decided sleep was a good idea, and rushed up to my bedroom, my vision slightly blurry and the need for Beau and Bay so strong I thought my chest was going to burst.

I slipped off my shoes, and even though I knew I was a mess, my brown locks ragged and my dress in the stiff stage of air-drying, I was hit by such a wave of grief and draining exhaustion I just fell on to my bed and curled the blankets around my body. Every bone felt like they weighed an extra couple hundred pounds, and to my slight annoyance I realized I was trembling. My stubborn side had been worn thin, but it was still intact. Dammit. Not this shivering again.

I wish it was as easy as getting warm, I thought exhaustedly. I wish I could control myself. Why can't I control anything? I can't stop shaking. I couldn't save Wyatt, just like I couldn't save Samantha. Samantha was never supposed to die. I was supposed to go first. Never Sammy. Why are humans so powerless? Why am I so useless? I wish I could just sleep forever. An eternal slumber. Then it would be over...I wouldn't have to see any of this anymore...I could just curl up and sleep, and sleep, never have to wake up to any of this ever again...never...

My thoughts began to slur together until the letters were incoherent and the last streamlets of tears fell down my cheeks and plipped on to the pillow. My mind began to slip. Sleep came like unseen hands passing over my eyes, drawing them closed and bringing to me the voices of the only people I wanted to see anymore. But that was an easy kind of love, because I knew they weren't real. And I didn't care.

This- a fact I was so sure of, the only fact I was sure of- would prove false. Just like every other thing in my reality. All of it shattered.

And honestly, I think that was the most beautiful tragedy I could have hoped for.

Note from the author:

For all who are fans of steampunk, fantasy, lots of romance, pirates, and adventure, this is the story for you ;)

So this is an early Birthday/Christmas present to my one and only favorite baby sister in the whole world @xXSkittleMonsterXx

Merry Birthmas babe!