Black and White

Chapter 6

"Sorry." The word floats around in the blackness. "Sorry." The boy's voice echoes around my head as I relish the quiet darkness. There is a void around me, I stand alone in a room of white, mirrors surround me. I am reflected in each one yet all are slightly different.

The one that I stare at has a face decorated with worry lines and wrinkles. Her hair is down past her ankles and her eyes are white. No iris, no pupil, just white flecked with gold and waving lines of purple and black. She has fanged teeth that look as though they have been dipped in gold and her face is covered in harsh makeup.

A crown is on her head, tall, black, dead vines curling around her hair and spiraling upwards. Her dress is made of the same vines. It balloons around her waist, but hugs her all the way to her collarbones. When I focus back on her eyes, they are rimmed in red. Blood runs down her painted cheeks, like crystalline tears falling down her face.

She opens her mouth in a silent scream and lunges out of the mirror. Her nails rake along my skin. Then I'm spinning, the world swirling around me. Colors blur together. Stars and spots dance along my vision as my body twirls.

When the swirling stops, another mirror is in front of me. The girl's eyes are regular, like mine are now. There pupils, gray instead of black, with plenty of white space. Ghosts linger behind her empty smile, hidden in the glint of her teeth. She shivers absently.

For clothes she wears a t-shirt and shorts. The dark blue shirt is decorated in both red and black blood, dripping off of her like water from a smooth rock. Her hair is cut short enough she's nearly bald, and her face is covered in streaks of blood and ash.

Her face twists in agony when I look upward. Blood falls down her chin, scratches, deep cuts appearing along her arms. Red blood floats around me, wrapping itself around my throat and clogging my nose. The girl screams, an aching, terrible thing that splits my skin only to get to my heart and wrench it away.

She reaches through the mirror as if it were a liquid, grabbing my wrist and pulling me through. I float there, staring as the girl dissolves and darkness closes in. My mother lies dead on the floor, her unseeing eyes staring up at the sky. She jolts and reaches out to me, trying to grab me and pull me away.

"Sorry," Mama smiles, tilting her head and exposing her blood-red teeth. The boy's voice carries out of her mouth. I kick at her hand, trying to break her grip.

Blackness closes in again, tearing at my eyes, my throat, my skin. Silence, uninterrupted by breath nor word fills my ears. My fingers do not feel the void. My body is uninhabited, not owned by me.

"Sorry." The boy's voice carries around, the only thing in the space. Nothing breaks his words, not my attempted screams. The word repeats, his incessant voice raising in pitch.

Then silence.

I'm on a cold stone throne. A crown weighs heavy on my brow. Creatures surround me, all of them trying to reach me. They tear at my skin, bathing in my blood.

"Sorry," The boy resurfaces, offering me a hand. I go to take it, the creatures lunging after me. His cold hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me away.

Then I'm chained to a wall, fire blazing around me. The shackles on my wrists and ankles burn into my skin before melting, burning my skin to the bone.

The whiteness of my bone disappears as the flames leave their dark, black kiss against me. Light bleeds into my vision, hiding the flame. Pain dances around me in the form of a beautiful butterfly.

Light burns into my eyes when they snap open. I'm in a bright room, I'm on my back, lying gently on the floor. A guard stands in the corner of the room. He startles when he sees I'm awake, but recovers to stride past me towards a door. I get up and follow, trying to piece together what happened in my dreams.

As I leave the door I realize I'm in an arena. Trees are to my left, and a meadow is to my right. When I look up, glass covers everything. It forms a dome over the arena, and is nearly invisible. Light filters through, a summer's evening sunset type color.

The guard shoves me toward a small circle.

A small circle of people.

. Most look about my age, fifteen, but I spot a few older and younger ones. The youngest looks to be around ten, while the oldest looks to be around eighteen. Everyone seems just as confused as me, staring at the place with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

The guard leaves, and we all stare at each other in silence. I look at all the things scattered around the arena. My fingers tap against my thigh. My weight loads itself into my heels. My heart pounds. My breath quickens. My head throbs.

A bell sounds, nobody moves. "Begin!" Rings out through the arena, and a single girl sprints into the middle of the circle. It seems as though that starts everyone off, but I stand frozen in fear.

I'm a statue. People are fighting. The girl who ran first is stabbed and I can't move. Her body falls to the ground, the thud echoing through my head. Her glossy, hollow eyes watch me through a curtain of blue hair as I stand like a deer in headlights. Tears fall down my face, my throat filled with empty air.

A throwing knife sails past my ear, and I feel blood spill down the side of my head. I look behind me, searching for where the blade went. A boy has a knife lodged in his arm. His eyes are wide, and his mouth has fallen open. Blood trickles down his arm, filling the air with a metallic smell.

Bile rises up my throat and the red leaves stains across my vision, snapping me out of my trance. I sprint toward the woods, air flowing harshly into my lungs. My throat burns, my limbs shake, my head swings around me, searching for followers.

My feet land hard on the ground, and my legs burn with the effort. Then I'm on the ground, my knee bashing against a rock. I turn myself around, looking at the root that tripped me. Rolling my legging up, I inspect myself.

The thick leather-like material of the leggings saved me from being scraped, but needles bury their way into my skin. Still, I force myself up and keep walking forward.

Thirst and hunger gnaw at me, tearing my stomach apart. My body moves on autopilot, my mind taking the empty space and running with it. If I want supplies I have to find it. I need to find them.

The blue-haired girl follows me throughout the forest, eyes boring into mine. Lights dance in front of her, reflecting on her opaque skin. One down, one dead. Half of me begs to say that it only means I'm closer to being safe and the other forces bile to rise my throat at the realization of my thoughts.

I pound my fist against my head before biting my nails. What the hell is wrong with you Amaya?

The thirst only grows as I travel, and soon it overcomes the eyes of the girl. Her blue hair becomes the waves of a salty ocean, which looks like the best drink at the moment.

The only thing in the world is the thirst, the painful scratching at the back of my throat, the way my tongue feels so heavy in my mouth.

A flash of blue catches my eye and I break into a sprint. Tunnel vision sets in when I pinpoint the location of the water.

It seems as though my thirst distracts me from the now, and I run head first into a glass wall. I rub my nose as I look outside the dome. A creek is just outside, it's so close, so easy to reach. I slam my fist against the window, roaring in frustration.

The water trickles slowly down the creek, as if mocking me. I'm right here, the water is right there! I place my back against the glass and slide down, trying to think.

"Careful, if you're any louder you might attract a creep."