The dream is always the same.
Weâre all in the car together, traveling on the highway. Iâm arguing with my mother, whoâs sitting next to me, and itâs because Iâm so angry that sheâs making us move again. Iâd made friends in Connecticut, real ones, and for the first time in my life I felt⦠normal. Average. Just one of the girls and not like some freak of nature.
It was the last time I would feel that way.
My father is driving, our looks so similar that thereâs no mistaking I came from him. Heâs listening to the news and frowning, always glancing back at me to check that Iâm okay. He always has an eye on me, his beloved daughter.
Andrew, another of my motherâs Bonded, is in the front passenger seat with his laptop open as he works. Heâs a very serious guy, cold and aloof to anyone outside of our family, but heâs very affectionate and loving to me. He calls me his reason. The reason he works hard, the reason heâs always striving for more.
Vincenzo is the third and final of my motherâs Bonded and heâs sitting in the back with us, holding my hand tightly as his thumb strokes down my thumb in comfort. Heâs always been the kind one, the one who was affectionate and loving no matter where we are. Often, when weâre living among the non-Bonded, people assume heâs my biological father because he would spend the most time out with me. Heâs a stay-at-home dad, the type of man who is happiest taking care of the house and his Bond.
Iâm angry but itâs also the last time I felt at peace⦠and safe.
Iâm struggling not to cry; Iâve always been the type to burst into furious tears. My mother is trying to get me to talk to her, quiet words I canât remember, but the sound of it is soothing to the deepest depths of my soul. Thatâs the last I remember of them and the last moments of the dream.
Right before it turns into my nightmare.
The one I canât wake up from, the one that tells me that this isnât a dream at all. Itâs the memory of a day I canât scrub from my mind, no matter how hard I try.
Something hits the side of the car at a high speed, pushing it over until the car flips and flies down the side of a ravine.
In my shock, my gift flows out of me.
I panic and try to pull it back into my body but I hit my head, dazing myself so badly that thereâs no stopping it.
Iâm the only survivor.
And I will never stop hating myself for it.
Never.