The Hidden

“Sorry,” a voice said. A voice that I recognized.

I turned around. “Cyn?”

“Hey, Abbey.”

She had a funny look on her face. Like she’d just witnessed something horrible and didn’t know what to do about it. “Are you …,” she started. And then that funny look came back.

“Am I what?”

Caspian moved next to me.

“Were you talking to someone?” She looked around, clearly trying to find the person that I’d come with, and for just a moment her eyes rested where Caspian was standing, before returning to mine.

“No. I wasn’t talking to anyone. Maybe it was someone else?” I lied.

“Are you here alone?”

“Yeah.” Lie number two. “You?”

“Same.”

An awkward silence fell between us, and I didn’t want to think too much about what level of crazy she might be grouping me into. I started to shift my position, to change my stance so that it was clear I was leaving.

She moved too. “My movie’s gonna start. See you later.”

I nodded, and we parted ways. When we were clear of the theater, Caspian asked, “Was that the girl from school who took Kristen’s locker?”

“Yup. Just another person who probably thinks I’m crazy now. Wonderful.”

He gave me a supportive smile. “She doesn’t think that. And you’re not crazy.”

I smiled back at him, but I couldn’t agree. Because deep down I still wasn’t entirely sure.

It was later that night when I realized that the picture of Kristen that Caspian had drawn for me wasn’t lying down on my desk like I’d left it, but instead was standing up on my dresser.

“Did you do that?” I asked, pointing to the drawing.

“Do what?”

“Put the picture there. I left it lying down, by my computer. Not on the dresser.”

He glanced at it. “I didn’t touch it. Did you move it so you could see it better?”

“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “I left it lying down. By my monitor. Wait …” I remembered something different. “Maybe I left it on top of the printer.”

I looked back and forth between the two. Did I move it? Or had someone else? Someone like Vincent …

“I could have sworn I left it lying down,” I said. “I just can’t remember if it was on the printer or by the monitor. But I know it was lying down. Not standing up. And definitely not standing up on my dresser.”

I stared at it.

Am I going crazy? Did I leave the picture where it is now? Maybe Mom moved it …

Caspian interrupted me midthought. “Do you still want to read chapter five?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

He looked doubtful but grabbed Jane Eyre. I settled into bed and pulled the covers up. Lying down, or standing up, who cared where the picture was?

But I couldn’t stop the sense of foreboding that was creeping over me.

In the dream, tree limbs held me down, and I thrashed from side to side to get free. Another one reached for my hair and whipped it out of my face, tangling it in wild snarls. I opened my mouth to scream. Felt my vocal chords stretch. And then break.

I tried harder. Arms straining, chest heaving, I screamed and screamed with everything inside of me. But there was nothing left.

Suddenly the world tilted. Or rather, I was tilting. Being lifted straight up.

My arms were still held down at my sides, yet I was floating in midair. My feet barely touched the ground. I was a strange minuet, with tree limbs as my strings.

“Watch,” the forest whispered, all around me. “Learn.”

The scene before me cleared, a path appeared. There was a figure dressed in black, flashing in and out of the trees as he ran. His hair changed from white-blond to black, and then back again.

Even without seeing his face, I knew who it was. Vincent.

As if my thoughts had called his name, he turned and grinned at me. His face was a horrible mask of features carved from stone. White and dried-out as bits of bleached rock. Only his eyes were alive-dark, burning coals of twin fire sunk deep into their sockets.

He kept running. Didn’t break his stride, and I struggled to see who or what he was chasing. A gap in the trees revealed another figure, and shock came when I saw the black ball gown and dark, curly hair.

It was me.

He was chasing me.

My throat opened again, trying to force some sound out beyond the constricted airways, but the result was the same as before. Nothing.

Horror filled my veins, and I watched the other me slip back among the branches. Racing. Desperately racing for her life.

One last flash of color caught my eye before everything went dark.

A flame of red. Impossibly deep red hair.

“Abbey. Abbey, wake up.”

Caspian called my name, and I opened my eyes, still seeing the color red in front of me. I thrashed my arms. They were trapped at my sides, tangled in the sheets.

“Easy,” he said. “Easy. Are you okay? You were screaming in your sleep.”

I freed myself and sat up. Trying desperately to remember where I was, my eyes locked with his, and then it all clicked into place. A dream. Just a dream.

“I’m fine,” I said. “It was nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing. What happened?”

“I was being held down in a forest by some trees. And I think they were talking to me?” I shook my head. “I can’t remember. But I saw something red …” I glanced over at the picture of Kristen. My heart started to pound again, and my hands grew shaky.

I knew without a doubt that Vincent had been here. He had moved it just to mess with my head.

“What can I do?” Caspian said.

I didn’t know what he could do. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me.

“Do you want some water?” he asked. “A blanket?”

“Just give me a minute.” I tried to breathe deeply. Tried to make everything go back to normal. “Actually, I think I will take that water,” I said.

Caspian moved to get up.

“Wait.”

He stopped.

“I’ll get it.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“I know. But I want to stretch my legs.”

He nodded, and I got up slowly, limbs quivering like a fragile dandelion stem blowing in the wind. The bathroom felt like it was miles away, and my hand was still shaking as I turned on the light. Gripping the edges of the sink, I stared into the mirror, searching the eyes that looked back at me. There weren’t any answers there, though. Only a cool blue reflection.

I turned on the water and cupped my hands together, bringing the cold, crisp taste to my lips. My cheeks