The Butterfly Effect (Rewritten)

Chapter Nine - The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses

A perpetual darkness filled my chest. I suppose that was a feeling you gained when your soul wandered long enough. I felt tugged in endless directions, as though separate ropes connected to each of my limbs and were pulling me to the path they thought was best. Visiting the past wasn't easy. Each memory chipped away at the solid foundation I thought I built. Reflection was the key to finishing this journey, and these visions were like the monsters I had been hiding from, unveiled and ravenous for attention.

We met Harper for the first time in the eighth grade, the year Jason abandoned me for the first time. She was the new girl who showed up three months after the school year started. I knew from the moment Jason spotted her on the bench beneath the trees he had fallen in love.

"Let's go talk to her," he suggested, eyes locked on the girl eating lunch alone.

I shrugged. "Why not?"

The two of us plopped down on either side of her, trapping the poor girl in.

"I'm Jason." He extended his hand.

Even at fourteen Jason had a killer smile.

"Emory," I offered in a more gentle tone.

"Um, hi." She shook Jason's hand. "I'm Harper, nice to meet you guys."

Depending on how the sun hit her hair, a few strands would burst into a livid gold and others would burn as bright as molten lava.

"Dude, you have amazing hair."

"Thanks." She smiled, touching her hair. "My mom says it's a rare gene in our family."

"What are your plans after school?" Jason quizzed. "Maybe the three of us can hang out?"

Her green eyes brightened. "Yeah, that'd be fun! I don't think my parents are even going to be home so we should be free. Let me give you guys my number and I'll text the address."

We exchanged numbers and within minutes an address popped up on Jason and I's phones.

"Does three o'clock work?" Harper asked.

"Yeah, that's fine. Right, Ems?" Jason inquired.

I nodded. "Sounds good."

I tore my eyes from the trio and peered over their heads. People talk about having a sixth sense. I had always been a skeptic about the paranormal. Then I died. My sixth sense presented itself as a rush of pinpricks rolling down my spine. Above the trio, in the distance, a demonic female grinned at me. My hand instinctively flew to the knife in my pocket, but I stopped myself. You have one shot. Don't let her know you have it. I turned my back and ran to the school's library.

I threw my weight against the door and made a beeline for the shelves as it slammed behind me. I ducked behind one of the bookshelves on the left side of the library and spied between the books. The demon girl entered the room with a hiss. Its eyes were the same as the boy's had been, sockets producing smoke. Her skin was a sick gray, veins black, and sleeves caked with a dry, reddish-brown substance. Her movements were stiff, and every few seconds she would twitch.

She released a hoarse laugh. "Humans... so weak. Ripe for the picking. But I suppose you've heard that all before?"

I ducked further down when her head snapped in my direction. I listened for her footfalls.

"Did you really think you could escape her? Do you have any idea of the powers at work?"

I crawled toward the next shelf.

"Why run?" she growled. "Suicide gave you everything you wanted... Death... Release... Peace," she spat the last word, "do you really believe your Reaper can give you that?"