Free-falling from a low-rise building was not what Lydia had in mind when she left home that morning. But here she was, standing on that ledge, arms spread open, her spirit soaring as freedom coursed through her veins, making her feel almost giddy. Raindrops dotted her skin, and the wind flirted with her long dark tresses as she leaned forward, breathlessly teetering between life and oblivion. She had no choice but to jump.
People often relive their past, regret their mistakes, or reminisce about happy moments in times like these. But all Lydia could think about was how her aunt would be glad to hear the news of her passing. The room she used to occupy would be transformed into storage, just as her aunt always wanted, and her cousins would be happier with extra food on the table. Most of all, Lydia felt a small sense of triumph—there would be no more vile, disgusting thoughts from her aunt's husband. Those awful thoughts had haunted her since she moved in six years ago.
At first, Lydia ignored the perverted intrusions. She had been too numb, too lost in her own pain, to care. When she first came to her aunt's house, all she wanted was to sleep and never wake up. The gaping hole in her chest where her parents used to be burned with every breath, and the only relief she found was in silence and sleep. But as time passed, the dark thoughts of her aunt's husband became harder to block out.
It felt like such a bitter irony that her last thoughts on this earth would be about him—someone who didn't deserve to occupy any space in her mind. Lydia closed her eyes and forced herself to conjure up an image of her parents, smiling at her from the doorway of their house. Her mom with her long black hair tied in a ponytail, wearing her favorite blue sweater and those comfy jeans she always wore for road trips. Her father with his bushy beard and the old black jacket he never let go of, his inherited watch gleaming under the sunlight.
Her heart clenched painfully. She opened her eyes to find two huge bolts of light rushing toward her. Startled, her instinct was to scream, but instead, she laughed, spreading her arms wider to embrace her fate. "Come at me," she whispered as the wind swept her voice away.
Then, just as the light engulfed her, one of the bolts shifted into a shape—something that almost resembled a human. Before Lydia lost consciousness, she heard a voice, cold and confused, say:
"What are you doing here, you stupid human?"
Sunlight. Warmth. The pleasant tickle of something brushing her nose.
Lydia blinked against the bright light, disoriented. It had been raining—hadn't it? Could this be heaven? She lay still for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun and nothing else.
"I think she's awake," a voice said, close to her ear.
Lydia jerked upright, her heart pounding. She found herself face-to-face with the strangest creature she'd ever seen. It had huge, comically wide eyes and thick pink hair, but what drew her attention most were the dog ears twitching atop its head and the fluffy white tail that wagged behind it.
"Who... who are you?" she stammered, crawling backward in confusion.
The creature tilted its head, regarding her with curiosity. "You're alive!" It smiled, revealing sharp little teeth. Then, turning its head, it called, "Ichimo! Your human is awake!"
Human? Lydia glanced around, disoriented by the loud clash of metal ringing in the air. But despite the chaos, she couldn't tear her gaze away from the creature before her. It looked like a character from one of her cousin's video games, but somehow real. The creature's big brown eyes, flecked with star-shaped pupils, blinked slowly at her, its round face beaming.
"Aren't you scared, human?" it asked, tilting its head.
Before Lydia could respond, a rush of heat shot past her. Fire. A scorching blast made the tips of her hair sizzle, the heat prickling her skin. Her body acted on instinct. She dropped to the ground, curling into a tight ball, screaming as every nerve in her body went haywire.
In the chaos, thoughts—other people's thoughts—began to flood her mind. Some were curious, others fearful, and one voice, calm and amused, observed: "He can shoot fire from his fingers. Interesting."
Another thought, full of fear, gasped: "He's going to kill me!"
The ground shook violently beneath her, the sound of metal clashing against metal suddenly ceasing. An eerie silence filled the air. Every creature nearby seemed to hold its breath, and even the thoughts in her head stilled. Lydia, still curled up, peeked through her fingers at the faint shimmer of what appeared to be blue snowflakes floating in the air before vanishing.
A presence loomed over her, cold and oppressive. She could feel its icy energy crawling across her skin, prickling her with a sense of dread. The shadow over her shifted, and Lydia sensed that whoever—or whatever—it was, was looking down at her with disdain.
"Pathetic," a voice sneered, its tone dripping with contempt. "Such a pathetic creature."
A foot nudged her sharply in the side. Lydia gasped, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. She scrambled to her feet, anger surging through her veins. No matter how broken she was, no one had the right to touch her.
But when she looked up, all her defiance drained away, replaced by sheer terror. The figure standing before her was unlike anything she had ever seen—cold, towering, and powerful. She couldn't move.
Her last thought before darkness claimed her was, "I'm going to die."
YOU ARE READING
I Can Hear You: Two Worlds Apart
FantasyA story about a girl who can hear thoughts. She is tired of her curse, being bullied, and being suicidal. Trying to end her curse, Lydia finds herself in a new world with incredible creatures and stories. Along the way and on her journey, she finds...
