XVIII: A special kind of hell

《 ELIAN PHOENIX 》

Without the notebook, the notion of Birdy not showing up would have bothered me more. Like in the wave of one of my manias, I sat still, flipping the pages and frantically scribbling down my truths and visions. It was easy to reason to myself that it wasn't the first time Birdy skipped a day.

I had already noticed how the notebook varied each time I got back to it. Sometimes there were more rules, but this time only the words: Magic requires a sacrifice. The rest of the page was empty, untouched. When there was less writing in one page, I knew to look for more on some other. I wrote that down as well.

I kept asking myself what was so special about that one rule, which never disappeared from the notebook, and what made it so different from the one we had written down on the other side. Magic comes with a price was virtually the same as Magic requires a sacrifice, or was it not?

I had paid for my magic with nosebleeds and headaches, and Aspen had paid for his with.. guilt and unhappiness. So, we had sacrificed our well-being over it. Unless, I guess, if on the real side it was about suffering through something, as in taking something to gain the power, was it about giving away on this side?

A yawn broke through my lips and I rubbed at my eyes. The light had shifted while I tried to make sense of the notebook, making me realize how late it was. It had to be at least an afternoon, if not an early evening. It wasn't always easy to tell in here.

Never before had Birdy skipped two days in a row. But, as I turned another page and saw Rio's familiar handwriting, I decided to wait for another hour. There was no need to panic, absolutely none so ever.

I scribbled on the page, where I had already written about the altering of the notebook, a few new sentences. What was my price for magic? What was Aspen’s? What would I sacrifice to save the world? What would he?

I wanted to write down that I'd sacrifice anything, but I wasn't that altruistic. Once this was all over, I wanted my friends. I wanted Aspen. I wanted Birdy. And, you know, enough food and water and a place for us to stay, that was all I asked for. Everything else was negotiable.

If Aspen wanted something more, or less, that was up to him. I would have to ask him about it once he came back. There was so much I needed to tell him, and he was going to be so proud seeing all the hard work I had done while he was gone. It would most definitely earn me a make-out session.

I must have dozed off, because the next time I blinked my eyes open the purple sun was setting and the neon lights of the amusement park had grown brighter.

Everything was buzzing and loud, an assault to my senses. And then, distantly, I realized I was having a panic attack. I wasn't even fully awake yet, but I couldn't push away the sense of doom that had settled over me when I realized I was still all alone.

I tossed the notebook on the seat of my carriage, and started pacing around. My chest was tight like someone had fastened a belt around it, and my lungs had no room for air. I tried to tell myself to breathe, but that was like telling a sad person not to be sad.

It wasn't just because of Birdy being gone for two days in a row. It wasn't even that I could only ever stomach solitude when I was either depressed or half-mad while looking for a deeper connection to my magic. It was because two days here meant two weeks in Aspen's world.

He said it wouldn't take more than a day or two, that it couldn't possibly take longer than that. Something bad must have happened. I pulled at my hair, muttering nonsense to myself, because apparently I lost it after spending two days on my own.

If Aspen was gone, I was never going to get out of this place. No, cross that, if Aspen was gone, Aspen was gone. Who cares about being stuck in some purple dream limbo, compared to losing him or my friends?

Being here, while being able to do absolutely nothing to make sure they were safe, was a special kind of hell. They could be dead or in serious trouble, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I took a blind swipe at my left, and the notebook dropped to the floor with a faint thud.

Aspen had been gone for what.. Two or three days? Two or three weeks?

I had promised him I would be fine here for a couple of days, but that didn't mean he could get in trouble and drag out their scavenging trip for a month. Or that he could go and die, and leave me alone in this hellhole. That was not the plan. I had tried my best to sound brave then, but for fuck's sake, I'm not this brave.

In the middle of all the muttering and pacing around, my eyes landed on the open page of the notebook. It was a drawing I hadn't seen before, and the surprise was like a dose of Valium to my panic attack. My breathing evened out and I could make myself stop pacing. I slumped to sit on the seat and lifted the notebook with my tingling, shaky hands for a closer look.

“Oh, jeez.” I groaned, when I stared at the person, undoubtedly me, standing in front of a sea of flames. It had my beanpole built and my wavy hair, the ratty sneakers and a wide, toothy grin. “That's so damn helpful.”

Whereas Birdy had been The Arsonist, which actually sounded like a solid clue, underneath my picture stood The Phoenix. Like no shit, that's my name and thank you, now I understand everything. And so I tossed the notebook back to the floor, buried my face in my hands and cried.

Although, crying didn't quite cut it. Weeping was too soft a word for the ragged cries and the nonsense I was still muttering in between the rolling sobs. I was blubbering, in all its ugliness: there was snot all over my face and my hair was a tousled mess after all the tucking and pulling.

At least no one was there to see me. But oh, how I longed for Birdy's soft embraces and her murmured reassurances, and how she could always find the words I needed to hear the most. I yearned for Aspen's arms around me, squeezed tight around my waist and the fancy eucalyptus scent of his shampoo. Thinking about them, of course, only made me cry harder.

I blubbered until my throat was dry. Until my nose was stuffy and my eyelids were swollen and aching. I was so above myself I didn't even stop to think about it. They were normal bodily discomforts one has after one weeps their eyes out, so nothing worth wondering about. I had a fleeting idea of blinking myself a glass of soda or water, but then I was already drifting away to a restless slumber.

I dreamed about burning birds, rising from the ashes with their golden wings still aflame like the fire couldn't hurt them. I tossed around on the plastic seat, sweat sticking my shirt onto my back, only briefly awake and then I was dreaming again. Of bears out of all things. Well, I guess it was more of a nightmare, because I was frightened.

Not just frightened.

Like calling my blubbering crying, frightened felt too soft, too small of a word to describe it. I was struck with horror, more scared than I had ever been in my life. I reassured myself there was nothing to be afraid of, because I was magical and I could burn the whole forest down with one swipe of my hand.

I lied to myself, so convincingly I almost believed it, that I could survive. I had to, because I had promises to keep, a world to save. Someone to build my future with, to fall in love so deep it would make me realize I had never truly loved anyone before. That someone was waiting for me. That I wasn’t afra—

I woke up with a jolt.

My throat was parched, a sensation that had become so foreign to me that it took me a while to realize I was thirsty. I blinked away the fire still dancing behind my eyelids and there was a glass of water in my hands.

I drained it in one gulp, and even made that super annoying ahhh sound, because I had never had a more refreshing glass of water. And for a blink of an eye I was stupidly happy about it. That I could feel thirsty again and that I had had such a perfect glass of water.

Then, I remembered.

I remembered that I was alone, and that I wasn’t brave or strong enough to make it out of there on my own. I was isolated, sure, but at least I hadn't been alone. Birdy was always there when I needed a shoulder to weep on and Aspen was supposed to come back in one or two days. And yet, the purple sun was rising, marking the third day I was stuck there all alone.

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I knooow, you want to know what's going on with Aspen and Rain. I've mostly written the next chapter as well, so I promise you won't have to wait an entire week for it.