Secret Silver | hiatus

✾ Prologue ✾

one week earlier

There comes a point in life—a moment of truth—at which we begin to not only question ourselves, but every little thing from the grass that grows beneath our feet to the clouds that rumble as messengers of the magnificent sky. 

A moment brought about by the simplest of truths or perhaps the darkest of secrets.

Standing before a building that I knew every inch and corner of, I held my breath. I could walk through it blindfolded and know where I was; it was home. Even during the past twenty years of my life, the beauty of the structure remained untarnished. The same ivory-tinted windows patterned the walls of the stone building, evergreen trees guarded the architecture, and the interior was riddled with memories both darling and dire.

I smiled; it was beautiful. 

Crouching down, I placed my right hand over my heart, ignoring the way it was pounding against my chest.

"Breathe,"

Mom used to say.

"When you feel like  you're falling apart,"

She would take my hand and place it on my chest, and her heartbeat would be steady—loud, but steady. 

"Remember me and—"

Her other hand would remain on my cheek, and silently, I would close my eyes. Now, even though I was not with her, I could see the warm traces of her smile illuminate the darkness.

"—breathe."

And in those moments it would be just the two of us. My beautiful mother and me.

I didn't bother to wipe the tears from my cheeks; they'd become accustomed to them. The beats of my heart were now steady, rhythmic. Something about counting them never failed to help me calm down. So that's what I found myself doing; counting my heartbeats, each one louder than the last.

One, two, three.

I slung my backpack off my shoulders, rummaging through its few contents until I found the small case. Regret flooded my mind, but I silenced it almost instantly. I could not reconsider. 

I was almost out of time. 

Ignoring my thoughts, I pulled out a match and struck it with success. The small flame was exquisite in its own twisted, toxic way. It had the power to destroy everything I had ever been taught and everything that I was, and it had the power to save me from my biggest enemy:

Myself.

My eyes shifted back and forth between the flame between my fingers and the building that stood behind it. I knew that there was no going back after this. And I was okay with that. I had to be.

Silently, the match dropped to the ground, its impact igniting a train of flames that chased the trail of gasoline that had been poured onto the grass, inching its way closer to the entrance of the building. And just as it was meant to, the fire surrounded its perimeters, growing with each passing second.

I tore my gaze from the sight, the destruction igniting a mix of emotions that concocted a strange medley in the pit of my stomach. How was it that I felt so strong, yet so weak?

Tears blurred my vision as I continued to stumble backwards. My entire life, I believed that we were the good guys. The agency,  G.O.L.D. , my mom, my friends and me. We were supposed to be the heroes. Never once did I consider the possibility that we may have been the villains.

This was not revenge. 

It was vengeance.

Among the other lessons I had learned in my life, it was that the difference between the two was of the same magnitude as the difference between night and day. 

This wasn't just for my mother. It was for the heart that remained imprisoned inside my trembling body, blackened by the lives I myself left soulless. The piece of me that should have been my strongest component was ultimately my undoing.

The monstrous flames began to illuminate the night skies alongside the stars. The farther I ran, the smaller the tragedy seemed. 

I had just completed phase one, and I knew what I had to do next.

A/N

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dedicated to arrowheads for helping me through the incredibly frustrating writing and editing process and for listening to me complain. love you girl  ❤