Don't Let Go (Third Book to the Other Side)

Chapter Twenty Three (The Lord of the Sky)

Falling...

Falling...

Falling.

I woke with a start, my heart hammering in my chest. Light, sharp and headache inducing blinded my vision, making me blink to associate myself with it once more. Head screaming in pain, I sat up. A swath of blankets clung close to my body, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to push them away, despite the sweat pooling down my skin.

Once the light had dulled down a little bit, I glanced around the room, trying to orient myself. This was my bedroom, but how did I get here? The last thing I remembered was...

Oh.

All at once, the memories hit me like a tidal wave, only worsening the pounding in my head. I struggled to sift through them, trying to pick out what was real versus what had always been a trick. I closed my eyes, blinking away tears before they came, and pulled myself out of bed. I almost fell.

Stars above, it hurt just to stand.

Glancing around the room, I tried not to let the fact that nobody was here to greet me get to me too much. It didn't matter. I was fine. I'm always fine. I don't need help.

I righted myself and found my balance, then found enough courage to bring myself over to the mirror. The person who who waited for me was nothing short of a monster, with his deep, sunken eyes, and his bruised face. The patch of scales slipping up his neck, the horns curling in front of his head, the two demonic wings with the flashes of lightning spiraling out behind his back. It wasn't me, but at the same time, it was every bit apart of who I was. I flexed my wings twice, sighed, then turned away.

My magenta overcoat lay abandoned on the chair to my desk, thrown haphazardly. I stared at it for a moment, the signature mark of who I was. My hands reached for the cloth without me telling them too, and before I knew it, the coat was nothing more than a pile of ash at my feet.

The hall was silent. I mean, it usually was, but there was something far more somber with the orange light of the setting sun filtering through the windows. Almost like I was walking straight to an execution.

Who knows? I might still be.

I listened, but even with the extra auditory powers, I still hear nothing. Well, nothing besides the muffled sobs coming from one of the rooms down the hall. I didn't have to look to know who it was, and my feet carried me to the room just as they had done thousands of times before, thousands of years ago. I stopped outside the door, listening, holding my breath. It tugged at my heart, not able to go in and help him when he needed me the most. A sigh escaped my lips, and I didn't allow myself any more seconds of hesitation before bringing my fist to the oak door and knocking twice.

The crying trailed off, and I bit down on my tongue. Finally, a soft, "Go away," sounded from inside.

I paused for a moment, my mouth half-open. What if he didn't want to see me? What if he hated me now as much as I hated myself? "Are you sure?" I finally said, knowing that it fell short of everything I wanted to say to him but couldn't find the courage to.

Another silence swept over the room. The door was wrenched open carelessly, and Philip stared up at me. I blinked down, searching for a smile, before he shot forward and wrapped his arms around me.