Forbidden

~Chapter Four~

Hi, everyone! Again...geez I'm pathetic. Anyhoo, here's chapter four! So, how is everyone liking it? Is this story good or no? Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

Anyway, while we're on the subject (which we weren't, but we are now), does anyone have any idea who should play Ethan? Rocker personality, long-ish black hair, vivid green eyes? If you have any ideas, leave 'em in the comments and I'll check them out! :-)

***

~Chapter Four~

I was still wondering about the voice’s sudden disappearance when I got home. Reasons floated around in my head, but none of them were scientifically correct at all, not even the one that the voice had told me. Vacation? Since when do crazy hallucinations go on vacation? Again, thoughts of my own questionable sanity bounced around in my mind. Was it my destiny to be the lunatic rocking back and forth in the corner of the asylum?

            But I knew that it couldn’t be a hallucination. The voice was too real, too elaborate, to have been dreamed up. I couldn’t have created that specific of a voice, due to my artistic abilities being highly limited. I could picture the personality behind the voice: she was shy and kept away from the crowds. She was usually nervous or on edge. She was probably smart, too. All of those details were proof that I couldn’t have created the voice. But if I didn’t create it…then what did?

            “River! Come here, quick!” Layla’s terrified shout cut into my thoughts. Immediately, adrenaline rushed through my body. My sister was my Sunshine: hurt her, and you hurt Brother Bear.

            “What is it, Lay? What’s going on?” I replied, frantically leaping up the stairs.

            “Hurry, River! I’m scared!” Layla’s voice was shaking and choked with tears. I ran down the hallway to her door and flung it open. I searched the room, looking for the intruder that had scared my sister. Nobody was there. The room was as it usually was. The bookshelves were overflowing with books, stuffed animals were thrown haphazardly around the room, and her dolls were sitting in a row on her Barbie Dreamhouse. Nothing was out of place. Nothing looked tampered with. The only thing that proved that something had happened was Layla. She was curled up in a trembling ball on her bed, crying and rocking back and forth, muttering to herself.

            I sighed and sat down next to her. “Layla, what happened?” I gently prodded. “Was somebody here? Or did you have a bad dream?”

            Layla looked up. It hurt to see her young, bubbly face red and tear-streaked. “It wa-wasn’t a-a d-d-dream,” she stuttered.

            “Sh, now,” I soothed. I scooped her up onto my lap, like I did when she was little and had a nightmare. “So was someone here? Was it someone dangerous?”

            “I could only see them when I closed my eyes,” Layla explained, sniffling but calm, “but I know it wasn’t a dream.”

            I was doubtful, and it was written all over my face. “Okay, who were the people?”

            “It wasn’t a dream, River!” Layla burst out, screaming in my face. “It wasn’t! The pretty people are real!”

            “The pretty people?” I asked, lost.

            “I only saw their faces,” Layla told me. “But they were really pretty. One was a boy and one was a girl. The boy had short blonde hair and the girl had long blonde hair. The boy had bright green eyes and the girl had beautiful purple eyes.” Layla’s eyes stared away from me now, as if she were remembering. “The girl had bright red lips, too. I remember thinking that both of them had long, pretty eyelashes. They were glowing, too, like…like a spotlight was on them.”

            “Were they bad people, Layla? Is that why they scared you?” I asked, bringing her back to reality.

            “I don’t think so,” she said uncertainly. “It was…it was what they said that scared me.”

            “What did they say, Layla?”

            Layla looked terrified now, on the verge of tears again. She sniffed. “They said that I can’t tell you,” she told me matter-of-factly. “They said…they said that it would hurt them.”

            “Did they tell you their names?” If I knew the people who pulled this off, I would strangle them.

            “Bernardo and Madeleine,” Layla recited. She turned to me. “Do you know them?”

            “No,” I murmured softly, deep in thought. So I was hearing voices…and now my sister was seeing people? Was insanity contagious? If so, then I was endangering everyone around me. I turned to Layla again. “Sunshine, why would it hurt them if you told me?”

            “I don’t know!” Layla threw up her hands. “I just…they said that they trusted me. I want them to keep trusting me. I like them.”

            “Layla, is it just because of how they look?” I asked cautiously. “Because I hate to tell you, but appearances can be—”

            “No,” Layla interrupted sharply. “Not just that.” She sounded so much older than seven, and it scared me. What would happen to my sister now? Would she change completely, or would some of our Sunshine stay with us?

            A door slammed downstairs. “Mom’s home,” Layla announced, chipper once again. She jumped off my lap and raced down the stairs, shouting, “Mama! Mama!”

            I was left to stare at the wall, confused and frustrated beyond belief.

***

Arabella bit into the apple, allowing the juice to drip down her chin. She dabbed it off with a napkin, savoring the taste of the fruit in her mouth. Earth was such a friendly place. It was full of birds singing, children laughing, delicious foods, and hundreds of different cultures. Arabella was enjoying every minute of it. Every time her feet touched the warm, wonderful grass, her heart leapt. The bright blue sky arching above her made a cover of warmth and safety. There was only one thing that would make her Earthen stay better: River Elliot. She missed communication with him, talking with him, and even keeping him out of harm’s way.

            Arabella had been lucky enough to find an elderly couple that would take her in: Bill and Marcia, the kindest, cheeriest humans that she had ever met. They even offered to pay for her tuition for the nearby high school. Arabella had never attended school—her kind was equipped with all knowledge needed to survive since birth—but was excited for it all the same.

            Honey, come back. I’m sorry. Griffin’s voice pushed its way into Arabella’s mind. She didn’t respond, twirling in Bill’s tire swing and waiting for the rest.

            Angel, it’s dangerous for you down there. The Demons’ messengers are in that same town.

            Furious, Arabella couldn’t stop herself from replying. Griffin, I am a messenger myself, if you have forgotten. I’m corresponding with Bernardo, Madeleine, and Nathaniel daily. I’m helping them find an ally.

            They believe that they already found one, Griffin retorted. Arabella could hear the aggravation in his thoughts. They don’t need you anymore.

            Arabella rolled her eyes. Griffin, you need all four messengers in order to pass an ally. Who is it, by the way? Madeleine wouldn’t tell me.

            Arabella could sense Griffin’s smirk. Oh, I don’t know…I think it will be someone you like.

            You know what? They’ll tell me later. Go away, Griffin. Don’t bother me with your senseless rambling again.

            Please, honey, come back. I miss you.

            This time, only one word was needed, voiced staccato, angry, and firmly: No.

            With that, Arabella leaned back and let the sun’s rays hit her face, unaware of the shadow lurking not ten feet away.