tremble
Celestra Series Book 2
by Addison Moore
http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com/
Other books by Addison Moore; Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)
Copyright © 2011 by Addison Moore
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.
Chapter One
Dream
Inevitably, we all die. In your sleep if you’re lucky—unconscious, unaware of what’s transpiring around you—an instant transport to another realm. A beautiful place, if you know the way.
Drowning. There is something mysterious and frightening about the ocean. The unknowable depths—the unsearchable reaches of the indigo marine. It hadn’t occurred to me as I lunged into the water, sinking effortlessly into its cold waiting arms, it could be the last time I’d see the pale blue sky, the hard line of the horizon, the distant rocky shore. With the last breath of wind-blown air already growing stale in my lungs, I propel forward exasperated by its beauty.
This is the dream that masters the night. Chloe is with me. She is long dead, but has become a strange comfort to me in my dreams. We swim like mermaids with our long flowing hair, lips iced with bubbles. I feel Logan’s notable absence. Sometimes he dreams with me, when he is able. It happens now and again if he wills it, but it depletes him and he’s useless the next day.
I take Chloe’s hand and lead her into the tall emerald forest. She resists, but I win. She follows my thirsty desire to fly through the sea, suspended weightless, free from all struggles on the other side of this ancient rain. We lose ourselves in its rich gardens, caught off guard by the occasional eel darting in and out of the rocks just an arm’s length away on the dusty sea floor.
If there were only time for exploration, if I could somehow live out my dreams on the bottom of the ocean—bathing in brine—letting the currents have their way with me. They sway me gently to the exact place I need to be, baptizing me in quiet solace.
I need to learn from the creatures of the deep, learn to swallow fear, bury it in the watery grave of indifference and swim away.
The light of the outside world shimmers in assurance just beyond the forest of pale green kelp. I focus on the long amber branches—rubbery formed leaves the shape of tears. We kick our way through pressured waters, every movement unnaturally lethargic. The water around us congeals ever so slightly as if to keep us down beyond our last breath.
An unnatural panic seizes me. I’m suffocating. I can’t breathe. I thrash for Chloe to help me—to shake me out of my dream. In my hysteria I let go and lose her.
A figure of a man, a boy, around my age appears. He comes closer and closer until I see him full and clear—sharp chiseled features, a soft mane of caramel waves, eyes the color of scarlet. He gives a short-lived smile before pressing his lips against mine and fills my lungs with a deep well of glorious air that satisfies me.
Then another breath, warm and deep, filling me with an ecstasy I never knew existed.
***
“Skyla. Skyla.”
The lights flip on, and my mother shakes violently at my shoulder. In a brief moment of dread, I think I overslept. It’s the first day of school, my first ever at West Paragon High. I tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning, ruminating over different scenarios of what my first day as a junior might look like.
The alarm clock is blocked with her body, so I can’t see the time.
“You awake?” There’s an uncalled for level of glee in her voice. Her red shaggy hair comes in and out of focus like a blur. I struggle to open my eyes, unable to keep my lids from gluing themselves shut in the harsh light. I give several hard blinks trying to adjust with no avail. I catch a glimpse out the window. It’s pitch black outside, which startles me to attention.
Maybe my stepfather had some cardiac infarction, and he’s dead. Now that would definitely be worth getting up at an ungodly hour.
“What?” I pull up on my elbow still squinting the world into focus.
“Surprise!” She sings the word in two equal parts and steps aside with a laugh.
Three grotesque creatures dressed in dark cloaks stand in a row. Their heavily disfigured faces stare out at me with hollow eyes, flesh that drips like candle wax, gaunt features that leave me gasping with a scream locked in my throat.
“Shit!” I mange to hiss, snatching up the covers and backing into the wall.
A swarm of hands collapse over me in unison. Before I realize it, I’m being dragged off the bed and pushed across the room by way of their aggressive prodding.
“Mom!” I yell.
They’re strong—determined. I can’t break free for more than one second before they latch onto me again. “Tad!” I scream for the man I wished dead a minute ago. “They’re Fems!” I yell, as if that should mean anything to my mother. If she were an angel, even the worst one of them, she’d understand the danger I was in.
“Have a good time!” My mom shouts as they jostle me down the stairs.
A mouthful of expletives try to unleash themselves at once, but all my vocal cords can manage is an ill-fitted yelp that would embarrass even a small poodle.
“Mom!” I shrill through the air with my primal cry.
How can she just stand there? How can she watch me get snatched from the confines of my own bedroom?
“Wait!” Her voice carries from the top of the stairs.
The front door gapes wide open exposing the night. The frigid air filters in licking at my bare legs, my arms.
Mom barrels down the stairs cinching up her nightgown with one hand.
My arms are secured behind my back, and one of the creatures has a leg hooked around mine. He overextends my knee just enough to inflict pain should I consider bolting.
“You’ll need these.” She holds out my leopard print robe and fuzzy pink slippers.
“What the…” Something fastens across my eyes and the world goes black. My mouth is harnessed with a tight fitted cloth.
This strange violent scene, in the entry of our new home, is likely the last physical impression I’ll have of my mother, and it leaves me wanting to strangle her.
