The force of release shook the walls of the building and uprooted the tile. Blue, like waves of untouched beaches, enveloped the red, and cast healing over my friends. It worked its way inside them and through their wounds, mending the pieces back together. Caro found the ability to breathe as she moved her hands across her chest, searching for the bullet entry wound. Law awoke in the arms of Jude, and Caleb stood on his feet, shaking off his pain. He made a slight nod at me. As the blue continued to rain down over them and the red resumed its position, I turned toward Franklin once more.
“Franklin,” I said. He raised his gun. “That’s no use.”
I cast my shadow to his side, and it snatched the gun out of his hands and tossed it toward me. I caught it and pointed it at his face. He threw his hands up in fear. I loaded a bullet into the chamber and aimed down on him as he fell to his knees in fear.
“Please, please. . .” was all he said.
“Don’t cry, don’t you dare cry. It’s pathetic,” I said.
He lowered his arms a little.
“I need to know, Franklin, what did Katia show you, what was your prophecy?” I asked.
“This,” his voice shook, “This is what she showed me.”
He dropped his head hopelessly.
“Was it just like this?” I asked.
“Almost,” he sighed.
“I kill you?”
“Yes. You. . .” he pushed his hand against his chest, “You glance back to Law and say—”
“I have to,” I finished.
“And he says—” Franklin begins.
“There’s another way,” Law recited.
“And I die twice, the bullet,” he places his finger directly to the middle of his forehead. “And worse than that, you rip my soul out of my body.”
“That’s the prophecy? That’s how you are destined to die? What I am destined to do?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, nodding his head in defeat.
The desire coursing through me was unbearable. It was like it had already been written. I could almost feel the memory of what I was going to do materialize in my mind. I could see it.
“So, that means,” I said, raising the gun to the air, “That we can change our prophecies?”
He raised his head, hopeful, “Do it your way, Law.”
I turned toward Caleb, who was already stepping toward me, “Caleb,” I said, reaching my arm out toward him. He rushed toward me as I collapsed to the floor.
He sat me up and leaned me against him. Law and Jude rushed over, grabbed Franklin’s gun from me, and subdued both Franklin and his guard.
“Danielle, hang in there,” Caleb said as he held me up. Caro rushed up to me and ran her hand across my face, brushing the hair out of my eyes.
“What’s wrong with her,” Caro asked frantically.
“I’m not really sure, but we have to get her out of here,” Caleb replied as his voice began to fade out and darkness seeped in, “You’re going to be all right, Danielle. You’re going to be fine.”
Chapter Eighteen
Healing
They brought me home. Returning to the house was difficult. I was overwhelmed by the trauma I had endured. There were no physical wounds to overcome, but the mental anguish had all but destroyed me and recovery required energy that I didn’t possess. There were consecutive days of Mortal Nights I thought would never end. Law put me on a healing assignment. For the first several days I slept almost twenty hours a day. My body slept to help heal my mind. The only people allowed to speak with me for the first two weeks were Law and Caleb. Law knew how much I needed Caleb’s friendship and how he helped me grow. The first several days I could not speak, Caleb just sat with me in the silence, just to keep me company. I appreciated him not draining me of the little energy I had by asking questions. He was just there for me. Law talked me through the stages of healing, piece by piece. It was true. I was broken once again and had to put myself back together. They made sure I ate and rested.
By week three I was finally starting to gain strength. I was down to sleeping only ten hours a day. I was partaking in conversation sparingly but able to focus much better. I was starting to become grounded. Though the visions still haunted me, and the darkness was far from dissipated, the light began to show through. They would have me sit outside in the sun and just soak in the rays of light and fresh air in silence.
I would make progress, then backslide. At times I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night with visions from my torture. It terrified everyone in the house, but they were always there to pick me up and point me back in the right direction. After several weeks I began not only to feel better, but stronger. My physical and emotional strength were coming back. Stamina was building. At the fifth week, I was able to be released into the world, to be in contact with others.
“Are you scared?” Caleb asked, sitting next to me on my bed.
“Terrified,” I said, “But I need to do it. I can’t be a prisoner to what I’ve been through. That’s no way to live.”
“I’m glad you stayed strong.”
“I didn’t though. I broke. I wanted to end it,” I said, glancing at Caleb.
“You may have been broken, but you survived. How did you do it?” he asked.
“My shadow, the thing I feared the most, is ultimately what saved me.”
“It’s part of you. You’re resilient.”
“You guys helped make me that way. I don’t know how long I would’ve lasted without everything you
