Three Drops Final (ABANDONED)

Chapter 1- The Message

Felicia's POV

It was dark. It was so dark, too dark, dark and deep and I was falling. I shivered and I shook and I shouted out and then there was pain, so much pain, too much pain, and then I-

I woke up with my heart thumping in my chest and sweat dripping onto the sheets. Dark spots played at the edges of my vision, and my breaths were fast and hard enough to suggest hyperventilation. My muscles locked and my fingers intertwined themselves in the sheets, as if that grip was the last thing keeping me from plunging into an endless abyss of pure terror— it may just as well have been.

A quiet knock came at the door.

"I'm fine, Braith," I called. "You don't need to come in."

The door clicked as it opened and he stepped inside anyways.

"You had a nightmare."

"Yes, Braith. I did."

"I assume you don't want to talk about it?"

I smile sadly. "And I assume that's not really why you're here."

"No..." He shook his head. "It isn't."

"What then?" I asked.

"This."

He handed me an envelope, creamy white without a seal. On the front, in spindly cursive, read 'Felicia'.

I turned it over in my hands thoughtfully, before delicately taking out the folded letter inside. It too was a creamy white colour, though not made of the same thick card as the envelope. It was fancy stationary, smooth and pure.

"What does it say?" I asked.

"I didn't open it."

I shot him the most unconvinced look I could manage, but he only repeated himself.

"I did not open it."

Slowly and carefully, with only precise movements, I opened the folded letter. At first, it was just a regular page of writing, cursive and delicate. Then small sparks of silver started coming out of it, almost causing me to drop the paper in shock.

A throat cleared, but it was neither Braith nor I who did it; it came from the paper.

"Is it on, Cassie?"

The voice was weak, wavering, but unmistakable. A small part of me shouted at myself to turn it off.

Another voice joined the first, deeper and richer, more robust. "Yeah, it's already going. Just start writing, in your current state-"

"-the link is unstable, yes I know. But I'll last."

"You don't know that. I'm amplifying your aura, not you."

"I have to last."

"I know. But you must be quick. Write— now."

"Dear Felicia,

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry and I love you and I'm so proud of you. You have been so strong."

The words on the letter began to glow, following the woman's voice. She stopped, wavering for just a moment, and then coughed. The cough was dark and wheezing, the cough of someone very, very sick.

"Annie, please be careful. Annie? Annie!"

A deep breath was drawn. "I'm here, Cass. Still here."

She continued. "If you are getting this letter, Cassandra was right, and you know what has happened to me; that is perhaps the one thing I haven't lied to you about."

"That isn't true," the woman I assumed to be Cassandra said. "You haven't lied about everything."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Cassie! I'm trying to write a letter here..."

"Annelise! Such a foul mouth... You know Felicia can hear all of this, right?"

"Well, I'm sure she'll forgive my language. I'm a dying woman after all, and I think I should be allowed to swear as much as I want to." She laughed, but Cassandra didn't join in, seeming to not find any sort of amusement in the situation.

"Trust him. You have to. I know you don't want to, but it's the only way your life will ever move on from here. I don't want to even think about all the horrors you have gone through—I have seen and felt all of them, even the ones that were just a possibility, that probably never happened, so I understand your reluctance. Believe me, Felicia, I know your pain. I have watched and felt you die over and over again, knowing that this may very well be your destiny. But if you are reading this, you have lived. And if you have lived, you will thrive.

I'm so sorry to have put you through all of this, to have played a part in your suffering, but this is more important than you and I will ever understand."

"You don't have to be sorry, Annie. There is nothing you can do, and there's nothing you could've done."

There was a quick snivel, and then she continued, this time with a new edge to her voice. "You have many enemies that lurk in the darkness, but there is one worse than any of the others. She"—huge sparks flew out of the page at that, strong and fierce—"will not relent; it is my fault, but I am no longer here to repent for my mistakes and take the blow for you. Beware of her, Felicia, please. She has no remorse."

I gasped and turned to Braith, who was as entranced by the letter as I. "Rebekah? Does she mean Rebekah?"

"Time is short and my voice will not carry after death. You will be alone in this, but never truly. There are so many in your life who love you, Felicia. Never forget them, for they will be more valuable to you than you will ever know. Stay strong, my love."

Her voice cracked and broke slightly, and along with it—so did my heart.

"Felicia.

My darling rosebud girl.

I love you."

She coughed again, and this time it sounded even worse than before.

"Ann-? Oh my god! Ann? You're coughing up blood, Annie please, hang on!"

"Cass..."

"Oh no no no! Hold on for me, please, what am I supposed to do?"

She coughed again. "Cass... Cass... I think it's time for me to go now, Cass."

"No no no! Not on my watch!"

Annelise laughed. "Obstinate to the end, Cassie. Call 911. It won't help though; this is end-term, you know it is."

"Ann? Annie, keep your eyes open. Annie!"

There was a brief pause, and heavy breathing filled the room.

"911? My name's Cassandra, and my friend Annelise just passed out, she's coughing up blood, she has end-stage—"

Cassandra gasped.

"I can't feel her pulse! Please, help I can't— wait— Annie, please, hold on! Oh my god..."

Sobs pierced through her ramblings, and in the distance, sirens wailed.

The letter stopped glowing, and the sounds disappeared. We sat in a heavy silence for a moment, before Braith broke it.

"Felicia... who was that? How did they know you?"

"I don't know who Cassandra is," I answered honestly, my voice wavering. I knotted my hands fiercely and dug my nails into my palms. "but I do know Annelise. Knew Annelise," I corrected myself.

"How? I don't understand."

"She is... was... my mother."