monachopsi

five

There were trees, when I opened my eyes; tall, thin trees grew in a near perfect ring around us, fading slowly in life until at the very outskirts were burned out husks, blackened and crumbling. Chills crawled up my spine.

 Vibrant green eyes met mine, eyebrows raised, a hand outstretched in a silent offer. I didn't take it. She pushed back hair from her face, pale skin practically glowing in the almost-darkness as she set her jaw defiantly.  

"Walk with me," she said, saying it in such a way that it would not be asked again. "We are at the edge, and you feel stronger already." 

It was a statement, not a question, and it was true, somehow. Each breath I took caused my body to strengthen, the body that hadn't worked out, well, ever, to feel like it could easily lift a thousand pounds, and suddenly, going with the girl didn't seem like such a bad idea. And she was mysterious. I could do with a bit of mystery.

But something wasn't right. There was a haziness to everything, sort of like the other times I had looked into her eyes outright. I closed my own, willing myself to focus, gritting my teeth against her mental probing until I couldn't feel it anymore. She drew back in surprise.

"You are getting stronger." 

I directly into her eyes, and the haziness fell away until the world around me was sharp and stark, the dark of the tree trunks against the gray of the mist that blanketed the world outside the ring. And there, somewhere in the middle of my confusion and overwhelmed stupor was that tiny feeling that wouldn't go away. 

You belong here, something, someone whispered. And I actually kind of believed it. 

"Come. With. Me," she demanded, green-gold eyes darkening. 

"No." 

She opened her mouth to speak, eyes flashing entirely gold for a split second. 

"You actually think I'm going to willingly go with you when you threatened my family, confused me to no end, and zapped me to a creepy, dying place, and then tried to use that mind thing on me? Right, well, maybe I'm not the stupid one," I snapped, shoving away that weird, almost comforting sense of belonging that I craved. "So the only way for me to go with you is for you to drag me."

She smiled, not exactly the reaction I had expected, and slinked over to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder and looked up at me, her smile slightly sinister and not so slightly like the smirk of a feline. "Is that a challenge?" she taunted. "Because it won't be."

I just looked at her, jaw set.

"It just won't be very pleasant for you if you don't go willingly, is all," she said, voice lilting with false sweetness. I jerked my shoulder out from under her hand.

"Just take me back home," I whispered.

Her smirk widened as she wrapped her cold fingers around my wrist as she had before, jerking me from the spot I was planted in. She dragged me out of the circle of trees and into the mist easily, as if I hadn't been struggling the whole time to pull away, as if I outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. Panic crawled its way up my throat.

"You needn't be afraid. You are home," she whispered, and suddenly I dropped to my knees, a sharp, stabbing pain drilling away at my skull. She let go of my wrist, and I dropped my head into my lap, unable to speak because of the pain. "You should have come willingly," she said, barely masked smugness creeping into her tone, and walked away, leaving me to wonder why she hadn't used that mind trick on me. Or perhaps she tried, something whispers, and you, strong, resilient you, fought her off. 

The excruciating pain ebbed to pain of the manageable sort, and I unfolded myself from the ground, staggering a few feet as the pain came back. I took a breath, clenched my hands until my nails left red crescent moons etched in an arch across my palm, steeling myself to fight whatever this world threw at me. I lifted my head and looked around, eyes skimming my surroundings.  

A field, lush and green and healthy in a sharp opposite to the dying ring of trees, sprawled out before me, the kind of field I'd always wished to have to myself. Under a tree sat a stack of books, a gentle wind stirring the pages of the top one. It was beautiful, and I wanted nothing more to sit underneath that tree and read the day away. But there was something wrong. This entire world  was wrong and unnatural and strange and I wanted out. 

I remembered how, in the beginning, I had thought her beautiful. Just a few days ago. And she still was, with those green gold eyes and curls the color of caramel. But she scared me, abused her power and looks and even words. 

This world was like her. Subtly beautiful, a fascinating balance of flaws and perfection in a way that made you want to look below the surface and find more, and when you did... I closed my eyes, and all that remained of the field was the skeleton of the illusion: tall, gnarled trees, blood pooled on the ground, desperation hanging tightly in the air. And a girl. Chained to a tree. 

It was then that I was thrust back into everything that was real and solid and overwhelmingly familiar, the feeling of my head collapsing in on itself returning. Moving, then, seemed to be quite a task, and an utterly overwhelming one at that. 

The girl. She was in danger. I could feel it. But I had no idea how to return.