Darkness Will Come to Light [1]

XII. Winter

Yawn.

More than half of Mel's school day was over, yet she still felt as bleary-eyed as she did when she woke up to slamming cupboards downstairs and a tree branch banging against her window from the forceful winds.

She accidentally zoned out in the middle of watching students talk and eat with their friends. Mel startled when a soft voice pulled her out of a daydream.

"Hi, Mel."

Savannah made herself comfortable on the linoleum floor of the cafeteria. The spot beside Mel had become her daily place. Sav initiated the conversation, as she had done for the last week.

Savannah was done staying away.

She would give Melaina space--emotionally, but she would no longer physically force herself away from her best friend. Sav knew Mel was going through something, and Sav was ready to be there when Mel decided she was ready to talk.

"Any plans for Halloween this year?"

Mel frowned behind her peanut butter and honey sandwich. "No, not this year. You?"

"I'm taking my sisters out, but that's it. No costume or anything."

They lapsed into silence.

Sav tried again. "Did you buy any candy?"

A little laugh escaped Mel's lips. "I'm waiting for the day after when it's all on sale."

Sav smiled, but it soon turned sour when a shadow crossed over them.

"Bitches."

Melaina winced at Marissa Fitzgerald's bitter voice. Sav shifted uncomfortably against the wall. Neither said anything as their ex-best friend passed by and joined Lauren Mallory at a table in the center of the rundown lunchroom.

"I'm going to need extra candy to get through another year of this," Mel mumbled to herself. She finished off her sandwich, then rustled around in her bag for her homemade sugar cookies. She had nothing better to do at four in the morning when she couldn't sleep, so she chose to be productive.

Mel sighed internally at the black spider sprinkles on her orange frosted cookie.

Excitement for Halloween created a loud buzz in the air, but the magic had dwindled over the years for Mel. Marissa and her older brother, Mark, were throwing their annual Hallow's Eve party at their family's estate. Of course, Mel wasn't invited, but she heard talk about it weeks before the big day.

Melaina loved Halloween. Her, Sav, and Marissa used to rotate between each other's houses every year on October 31st. The trio always had matching costumes. One year, they went as Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup. Another year it was Alvin, Simon, and Theodore. The last year that they went together as best friends, they dressed as candy bars: Mel as a Twix bar, Sav as Sweetarts, and Marissa as Skittles.

Mel missed those days. She had no plans this year for her favorite holiday.

Seventh grade was the last year the trio celebrated together; it was that same year when Marissa and Mel's relationship took a nose dive like a swimmer ungracefully falling off the diving board. Marissa started to obsess over boys to a degree that Mel couldn't keep up. She was thirteen when Marissa began to sleep with any boy who gave her the time of day, and Mel didn't have the power, or guts, to stop her. Marissa was too full of herself, too rambunctious, to be a trusted friend anymore.

Since she was not an expert in the sex--or even, guy--department, Marissa left Mel in the dust. Well, not before trying to peer pressure her best friends into doing something neither was comfortable with. Sav mostly tolerated Marissa because of Mel, but that was too much for her. Sav pulled Melaina away before Marissa could push her into a mosh pit of trouble.

Marissa turned her back on them completely and never looked back.

That was the first time Mel had lost someone she loved.

~*~

The night before November first, it snowed.

Mel woke up to the wind howling through the broken seal of her window. She barely processed the thought "nope" before rolling over to continue sleeping in her cocoon of warmth.

High school would be there tomorrow.

Her phone buzzed, the light casting a glow across her room. Mel ignored it.

One too many times her phone went off, so Mel reached out from under her blankets to shut it off completely. Her fingers failed to work properly and the phone slipped through her grasp.

The silver device knocked against the edge of the nightstand, then clattered to the floor. It buzzed again, louder than before on the hardwood surface. Mel groaned in exasperation and shoved her head under a pillow.

When her breathing slowed steadily, Mel fell into a dream.

Fire ignited against her frail human skin like a match stick striking against the match box strip. Melaina, dressed only in a pair of fuzzy pajamas pants, a sports bra, and combat boots, shrieked a howl of pain at the invisible flames scorching her skin. 

Thick smoke filled her lungs with rapid bursts of carbon dioxide. The taste of ash coated her tongue. She coughed and coughed to free herself from the scratchy air in her throat. An anxiety attack quickly began building in her chest at the claustrophobic feeling within her. The loss of oxygen was making her head spin and her hands shake. She teetered on the edge of a glistening arched bridge. No water sat below the swaying bridge of ice.

Hellish fire lapped against her arms and legs, seemingly pulling her into its deadly depths. Glowing bursts of reds and blues played across her vision. She grasped at her head as if it were about to combust like a Fourth of July firework.

The burning danced across her fingers and brushed across her neck before grabbing her chest in a fiery hold of hate. She screamed. 

Her toes caught a sudden chill when her shoes no longer protected her feet from the deck of the melting bridge. The coldness traveled up to her ankles, her knees, her thighs... A moment of relief passed as it felt like she was dunked in cool water on a hot summer's day. 

Then the sun beat down on her body tenfold while ice stabbed her heart. She tried to claw at her chest to rid herself of the pain, but she could no longer feel her fingers. She tried--and failed--to focus her teary eyes on her hands through the hazy air to make sure that they hadn't vanished like her boots. She swayed in dizziness. 

Fire and ice tore into her physical being, scratching and fighting to overwhelm her soul. 

Melaina's scream startled her from the dream. She shot up in bed, sweating and shaking in her twisted pile of blankets. She sucked in breaths of fresh air to calm her racing heart. The fire had felt so real, but her body held no signs of burned flesh. 

Mel clutched her Eiffel Tower blanket to her chest and stared blankly into the darkness of her bedroom. A dim ray of light snuck through the curtains when it billowed in the breeze. The glare from the snow outside burned her eyes, which sent a shiver down her spine. 

More than she hated Jeremy Jackson, Mel hated that burning dream.