Intertwined

1 ~ Nightmares. I Get Them All The Time

Amara

"Stay back!"

"MOVE OUT OF MY WAY!"

"NO!"

*****

I wake up, screaming and sweating. The clock on my bedside table reads 3:26 am. I lift a hand to my head and wipe my forehead, taking deep breaths to calm myself down.

Another nightmare. It's just another nightmare.
Just like the one the night before.

I rub my eyes and get out of bed. I know I can't fall asleep again, so there's no point trying. Slipping my shoes on, I head out my apartment door and up onto the terrace. My apartment is on the top floor, and just next to me is a set of stairs and a door leading onto the high terrace.

I stand at the edge of the building, arms crossed, gazing over the city. I love to come up here and get away from everything sometimes. Especially when I get nightmares. I get them all the time.

Up here, I'm high above everything, everyone, and I can see tiny cars and even tinier people on the streets even though it's late at night, or early in the morning depending on how you see it.

Los Angeles is beautiful at night, especially with a view like mine where I can see the iconic 'HOLLYWOOD' sign glowing white in the distance, and the intricate green landscape that continues for miles. Being up here makes me feel at peace. On top of the world. It helps me forget about the things that haunt me.

I furrow my eyebrows, and spin around. I could have sworn I sensed somebody behind me. I almost think I see a dark figure hiding behind the wall, watching me, but there is nothing there.
Must be my imagination.

The Next Evening

I scream at the top of my lungs, singing along to Twenty One Pilots. 'Tear In My Heart' plays at full volume from my phone, sitting on my bathroom shelf while I stand under my shower washing my hair. A lot of people would judge me for my habit of listening-to-music-while-pretty-much-doing-anything, but I don't care. Then again, I don't care about lot of things I probably should care about. I do have quite a few bad habits.

A few minutes later, I walk into my living room, drying my hair with a towel in one hand and checking my phone in the other, as any other regular millennial kid would do.

I plop down on my sofa, humming a random tune while I scroll through Instagram, double tapping every photo. I'm not even paying attention to what the posts say, but I keep liking them anyway. Maybe it's my way of trying to act like a regular girl. Even though I'm not.

After a few minutes I decide to go eat something because why not? I hit shuffle on my music in my phone, and put two slices of bread in the toaster before going to get some butter out the fridge.

I have a lot of work to do tonight, a few essays and papers due next week that I know I need to get started on. Just thinking about all the work I have to do stresses me out and makes me wish that I could turn back time to the good old days. When everything was a-okay and I wasn't living by myself, alone in a huge city with not a lot of people to keep me company around me...

I shake myself out of my daze. I need to stop blaming myself for all the bad things that happened in the past. I just need to keep myself controlled and normal. That's it. It wasn't my fault. That's what they all told me. I'm not a bad person.

Am I?

I don't know. It doesn't matter. For now, anyway. I go back to humming my song and buttering my toast. "I'll put you on the map/ I'll cure you of disease," I sing out of tune and move my head side to side to the song.

"Well, she was definitely right when she said you had a terrible emo music taste." A deep voice speaks behind me.

I drop my toast and turn around. "Holy mother of- who the hell are you?!"

I find myself looking at a tall guy - probably about 19 or 20, near my age. He has a broad shape and a defined jawline, with curly locks of sandy brown hair that's piled on the top and short on the sides. His brown eyes stare into mine, and he's smirking. I would probably admit he is quite good-looking if he hadn't just broken into my home and acted like nothing happened.

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment? Who are you?!"

His expression changes from smug to alarmed. "Okay, okay. Don't freak out, Amara."

"Don't freak out? DON'T FREAK OUT?! You're a creepy dude who broke into my home, and you know my name!" I grab my butter knife off the kitchen counter and hold it up with a shaky hand to defend myself. Kinda pathetic, I know, but I wanted this guy to know I wasn't to be messed with.

True, I was freaking out, but to be honest I was only really acting that way because it seemed like the normal thing to do. The way any other person would react. The way I should be reacting, as I was trying so hard to be a regular girl.

But if I could, I'd have already read his mind and knocked him out if he was any danger. I can't, though I want to. I have to fight that urge, because otherwise everybody would get hurt again.

"Please, trust me. I mean no harm." He gives me a sincere look, and with his words I feel suddenly calmer. Relaxed. Of course he means no harm, how could he? He's just a nice, sweet guy who is here to talk to me...wait, what?

I shake my head, confused. "What? What was that? What did you just do?" My eyes widen. "Did you just charmspeak me?"

"Did I what?"

"Charmspeak. Like, convincing me what you're saying is true very persuasively? You know, like Piper McLean in Heroes of...never mind, you're clueless." I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe so. But I suppose 'charmspeak' isn't too bad of a name for it." He frowns. "My name is Jai. Jai Goodwin. I'm from Hawaii, but I live in Washington D.C."

"Okay, that's great, but I don't see how this is relevant to me. Or why this justifies you breaking into my home."

He sighs. "Sorry. Let me explain." He takes my hand and leads me to my living room, and we both sit down. I know I should be way more cautious but I am curious about what he's talking about. Besides, if he tries to hurt me I can just knock him out. It's fine.

He takes a deep breath.

"I'm here to take you to somewhere. A place for people like you and me." Noticing my still-confused expression, he says, "I have powers, Amara. I'm one of the Gifted. Just like you."