The Hollows Of Hiraeth (✔️) | 'Hollows' Book I

Chapter Ninety-Seven: Part Two

^ Sweet Dreams by Emily Browning, just a theme (if you like) for the end of the book ^

________________________________

T h e   H o l l o w s O f
H    I    R    A    E T H
_________________________________

T h e  E n d:
Denouement
Part One/Seven

And so fall away from happiness is what I did. But it turned out this bitter way—that was never the reality. This is the reality. This is my God forsaken life. All of this danger, this bloodshed, this pain—this is the reality.

—Sky Forest, twenty-four hours post reality.

I was jolted awake by a cold hand. Screams cracked through the white noise glass, making every one of my senses fuzzy. I blinked, and saw Jameson's very perfectly sculpted face hovering over mine, but looking more terrified than I had seen him look in the five months I had known him. And we had faced some pretty terrifying things. Our potential deaths, for example.

Jameson yanked me out of my bed before I could protest. I bent over to pull a soft t-shirt from the ground and slipped it over my body. Confusedly, I stumbled behind Jameson as he kicked open a secret hiding place in the hotels wall. Of course they'd have hidden places in a hotel owned by the academy, why would anyone expect any less?

Once open, my apparent safe haven was dark and gloomy; uninviting yet the only place I'd like to be as shrills rang out in the dawn. It must be four am. Maybe five. Through the curtains, I could see the sun making it's first appearance of the day, it's blasting light burning up the early morning sky, a stark contrast to the dark depths of shadows lingering in our hotel room.

Before Jameson shoved me into the room, I caught my last glance of a room so deadly still with mystery. A storm was out for us. But the room stood as we had left it—sheets crumpled, balloons lingering and floating in the dark, presents of old memories sure to collect dust before I'd be able to hold them again, then there was my dress—my beautiful, midnight blue dress. I'd give anything to have a midnight sky glittered with stars as my reality right now—but it was just a dress. Just a memory of something I could no longer have.

Then I was surrounded by darkness. Jameson stood in front of me, backing me into the corner of the dusty and obviously unused room. I wonder if this room ever did someone any good, if it actually was used before. Jameson's cold hand pulled me out from these thoughts as he grasped my once warm touch. The situation grew a fraction less horrifying as we held hands. I noticed that, as our hands linked together, both found warmth, but I also noticed how my other hand still felt the bite of the dark shadows.

Thuds were heard down the corridor. The screams of terror started before we heard the gun shots. I trembled behind Jameson's stiff frame. He was scared too. And, somehow, that made me feel better.

It felt surreal to hear the storm raging outside our room before it swept us up into a gust of destruction. I could almost believe for half a second that we would be alright. Almost.

The door swung open. I jumped as I heard it crack the wall. My lonely hand gripped the back of Jameson's shirt, feeling his tightening muscles as I did so. My stomach knotted. My heart had run away and took all hope with it; my heart didn't want to witness this. With a gaping hole in my chest, my lungs constricted and I found it hard to breathe. I didn't blink, I didn't breathe. I waited.

Then I saw the light.

Jameson was yanked away from me, letting out a roar as I heard fumbling around outside the room. I cowered into the corner, hoping I'd disappear and be one with the darkness. I didn't.