Return To Pandora: Book 1 in The Pandora Series (16 page)

Well here goes nothing, goodbye old life. I hope I live long enough to experience my new life, of somewhat immortality. Olivia was taking me with my mom and Zack first. Then she was coming back for John and Isabel, as well as Derek.

After that it would be Elizabeth and her family, then Shanieza and her family. After we were settled she go for Leah, Josh and their families. I’m pretty sure that Derek would be accompanying her on the last two trips, because he didn’t trust them enough to let her bring them to Pandora unharmed.

I’m glad, because I was going to suggest that I go with her, I wasn’t going to let her go alone. She came and grabbed my hand, I squeezed it letting her know I was more nervous than I let on. She gave me a nod acknowledging it and I grabbed my mother’s hand. My mother grabbed Zack’s hand as he grabbed onto Olivia’s other hand. Bags in one hand while holding onto two different hands, we prepared ourselves for the ride ahead of us. I’ve only done this once and it wasn’t great, but it was the quickest way to get there.

With a nod and an, “Ok, ready?” From Olivia, I closed my eyes and she took us with a jolt, to Pandora.

We were staying with Zack’s family, Olivia would be at her place and Derek would be with Elizabeth, Shanieza and their families in his place. The ones I was worried about were Leah and Josh. They thought we didn’t know where everyone was staying. In truth they are the only ones who had no clue as to what was going on. I couldn’t believe we had to play nice with them, but if there was a chance we could save them after we took down Christina, then I was willing to try.

When we got there and I was comfortable enough to open my eyes, I was in awe at how magnificent her home was. I had no idea why I hadn’t expected this, but in my mind I was thinking of a one bedroom shack in the middle of the woods.

What she had was definitely anything but that. There was a fireplace on the wall to the right and I’m assuming that was where the living room was because there was a couch and a chair around it. The floors are hardwood all the way through, very shiny and looked brand new. The room we were in was the dining room. There was a table with eight chairs around it. The table and chairs looked to be made out of mahogany and it looked very thick and sturdy.

I put my bags down as I did a circle in the spot I was standing in and looked at the beautiful house we were claiming as ours until we could take back the castle. The curtains in the dining room looked rather modern, like from the real world modern. They were plain, slightly see through with the netting material they were made of and they looked to be a lilac color.

The ones in the living room matched the furniture, being a gray color, while the couch and chair were black and gray and the black being the circles around them. There was a gray throw rug under the table which was a creamy marble with black legs. It all complemented the room perfectly.

I moved into the kitchen and couldn’t believe my eyes. The counters were all the same creamy marble as the coffee table in the living room and the cabinets were black. The appliances were stainless steel, something that I would have never guessed seeing the world I was now in. I didn’t think they were as advanced as we were, but man, this may not be so bad.

Olivia showed us to our rooms, there were three available apart from hers, which gives Zack his own room while I shared with my mom. Zach’s parents were left with their own room.

Zack’s room was the closest to the door. Since he would be protecting us, he claimed the front of the house. They all looked the same, lacking any personalization and having a queen sized bed in each room. Obviously she didn’t need to get these rooms all spiffy, but I would fix that. She gave us our blankets and showed us where everything was that we would need to freshen up and then she left to get the others.

Our room was big enough to fit the both of us. The windows had blinds on them but no curtains to make it look homier. I went in search of Olivia’s closet which she said contained curtains, towels and extra blankets. I pulled out a pair of purple curtains, took them and the curtain rods and hung them up. After that I unloaded my bags and my mother’s as well.

She was still in the living room looking out the window. Probably not believing that she was actually back home. She was one step closer to getting her kingdom back and her husband back as well. I would not fail in retrieving my father and our kingdom. If I die before then, I’ll freaking come back and haunt the damn witch until she finally caves in and hands over the kingdom back to my mother.

After I was done I went to look for something to eat. There probably wasn’t much, since she had been living with us, but maybe there was something we could have. When I got to the kitchen I noticed that Zack was already cooking and was that coffee I smelled?

It’s normally dinner time now, but here it looks to be early morning. Either way, smelling coffee made me want it, so I hunted down a glass, some sugar and cream then made myself a cup. It wasn’t too hard to find the cups, the first door I opened they were in. I love when things go my way.

As soon as my coffee was ready I put it up to my lips and inhaled a deep breath of the sweet nectar. My sweet, sweet caffeine. I’m glad they had coffee here too because I don’t think I could function properly without it.

As soon as dinner, well I guess breakfast, was done, Olivia was back. She looked drained. I handed her a plate of food and a cup of coffee. She took it and sat down beside my mother who finally tore her gaze away from the window long enough to have a meal with us.

“So am I the only one who thought we were going to be living in a shack in the middle of the woods?” I asked and the adults looked at me and then broke out in uncontrollable laughter. “What? I mean you can’t really blame me, no one has prepared me for any of this. I guess this means I can charge my iPod?”

“If I wasn’t so tired I would have something to say about you thinking that
I
was going to live in a shack,” Olivia said and took a big sip of her coffee.

My mother just shook her head and relaxed a little more with each bite she took.

“Momma, are you alright?” I asked getting up and walking towards her.

“I’m fine,” she said as she swiped at a stray tear dripping down her cheek. “I just can’t believe we are finally back. I’ve dreamt of this day. Of being back here with you and finally having a chance at getting our kingdom back and it’s just… just so surreal to actually be here now.”

John and Isabel shared the same look as my mother did and I felt a pang of guilt. They left their homes and everything they knew to protect us so we could have a fighting chance. I reached around my mother, gave her a hug, told her I loved her and that we would get what was rightfully hers back.

After dinner we went to our rooms so we could get some rest. I went to shower and put my pajamas on but I had forgotten that I grew into a twenty year olds body overnight and that I had nothing that fit. Luckily Olivia knew this and gave me a pair while I was in the bathroom. When I was done I went to tell my mother good night so I could spend some time with Zack. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and told me she loved me.

As I was walking to Zack’s room I felt as if someone was watching me. I quickly looked around but saw no one and brushed it off as nerves. I knocked on his door and pushed it open. He was already in bed and looked to be asleep. I closed the door and climbed in bed with him. He stirred a little, enough to know I was in bed with him and grabbed me, pulling me towards him. I got comfortable and closed my eyes, ready for a good sleep.

Reality or Dream

I woke to a loud banging outside the door. I didn’t even have time to react when I noticed that Zack was already out of bed and grabbing his weapons. I threw the blankets off of me and jumped out of bed sensing the environment around me to see what elements I had at the ready. The wind and earth, but no water unless I take it from the pipes.

He nodded my way and I nodded back saying that I was ready. He opened the door just in time to see his father thrown across the room. I gasp as I tried to force myself to focus. This was not a drill, this was the real deal.

“How the heck did they find us already?” I asked him as he threw his dagger and used his powers to help it soar into the masked man standing at the door.

It hit him before he had the chance to react to it and fell to his knees in pain. I shot my arms out sending him up against the door and using my other arm I pull the dagger free and sent it into the guy’s heart.

He grunted and his body went slack before I let him drop. “What the heck?” I asked as everyone got their bearings and my mom and Isabel came out just in time to see me drop the dead guy on the floor in front of the door.

“How did they find us? How did they even know we were back?”

“I’m not sure but this means that we need to sleep in shifts. I was out here getting a drink when I saw him and he attacked me. I tried to handle him alone, but he was strong,” John said as he went to Isabel and held her in his arms soothing her.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Zack and I both said in unison.

“You should go and check on the others,” I said to Olivia.

She looked concerned and I was not feeling very comforted at the moment. They had a house full of people with powers, but the most powerful ones were all in the same house. It wasn’t fair, but Zack was not leaving his parents alone and he was ordered to protect me. Not that I would mind if he went to help them, but I liked having him near me.

“Ok, I’ll be right back,” she said, sounding hesitant, but she left anyways.

While she was gone we fixed up the mess and got rid of the body. As we were settling back in and my mom, John and Isabel went back to bed, I took up a seat at the table, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, which was my way of keeping myself awake.

Olivia came back and the look on her face made me relax a little more. They were safe and nothing happened to them.

“They were attacked as well. But Derek got to him before he knew of anyone else in the house. I went to check on Leah and Josh and they were all asleep, no one attacked them yet, but I woke them up and warned them of a potential threat heading their way. Leah’s father is taking the first watch. Derek has the first watch over there as well and you guys have it here. So since everyone is safe and we have a plan in place I’m going to get some res…” She collapsed on the floor before she could finish her sentence.

“Zack bring her into my room and lay her down with my mom, I’m going to try and heal her,” I said as I gathered the items I needed to heal her completely. I ran to my room and wasn’t surprised to find my mother helping to get her comfortable.

“She over worked herself bringing us all here, she should have rested more before she did each run,” my mother said as I laid out the ingredients for my healing process.

“I know, she looked weak before, now she probably killed the last of her energy with that last run to check on the others,” I said as I started to heal her. It didn’t take long for her to regain her healthy color and a few minutes later her eyes opened and she was looking at us shocked.

“What did you see?” I asked before my mother could stop me.

Before she could respond there was a crash of glass on the floor in the living room and we rushed back out to find, to find Christina, the actual Christina, standing there with a menacing look on her face. Her minions had Zackary in their grasps successfully blocking his powers and holding him firmly in place.

I wasted no time in trying to rescue him using my arms while I mentally held all three men in place. I sent my arms up and out and nothing happened, because as I sent my attack to her she vanished. The same way that Olivia does.

“He is in for some very rough days. If he can hold out until we find him, he will be fine. But if he gives up, we will lose him forever.”

Olivia’s words repeated in my head long after the house was abandoned and we were traveling to Derek’s. We were walking to help save Olivia’s energy, because if we were going to face Christina soon to save Zack then she was going to need it all.

As we all got comfortable, me wearing my cargo pants and combat boots, ready for whatever comes my way, I drifted off to what I was hoping was another bad dream. If this one came true I was going to spend the rest of my long life without my soul mate. In my dream I watched as Christina killed him. She chopped off his head as if he was some villain in an old movie.

The last thing I saw before I was woken was his head rolling on the floor in front of me, just before she sent a blade through my heart.

Before you go, enjoy this chapter from Zether

Torn by Time: Emma 1

(Minma Chronicles Episodes, #1)

Viewbook.at/TBT

Schizophrenia

I stare out the side window, drowning out the other patients as they discuss their day. Snowflakes kiss the glass, slide, and melt before my eyes. I wish I could go out there, beyond the wooden privacy fence that separates me from the rest of the world, and play in the snow.

A heavy wind blows across the empty courtyard, and a baby red robin flaps its wings for balance while clutching a barren branch by the window with its tiny claws. I take in a deep breath. What’ll happen if the wind is too strong and it can’t fly? My whole body aches to open the window and bring the bird to safety.

A fresh gust of wind ruffles through the tree, shaking its thin branches. As if judging its own fate, the baby bird takes a moment before flapping its wings faster. My fear transforms into confidence.
Come on, little bird. You can do this. Just jump. Be free.

At the end of my thought, it cliff dives off the branch. I lurch out of my plastic chair. My clipboard hits the floor with a
smack
. As I swallow the lump in my throat, my heartbeat echoes through my ears. I cheered the bird to its death. My chest heaves.

A thick hand clutches my forearm, causing my breath to hitch. Eyes gawk at me. “Sp-spider,” I lie, my voice trembling. Nerves twist at the base of my neck. I . . . I killed it. I wanted it to have the freedom I don’t have, but it wasn’t ready. Am I ready? As much as I want out of here, I’m as ill-prepared as the bird. I can’t fly. I haven’t even learned to breathe.

“Oh, hell no,” Nikita (hypersexual disorder/I’ll wake you up at night with my moaning.) says, leaving her chair and taking off one of her Converse shoes. “Where’s it at?”

Tiffany (therapist/Mother Duck of the Mentally Ill) pipes up. “We may be due for another insecticide spraying. I’ll inform the staff. Please, take your seats.”

Ignoring Tiffany, I snap my fingers at Nikita, and she tosses her shoe. I have to check on the bird. The thick hand, which belongs to Zack (psychopath/best friend/literal man of my dreams), leaves my arm, and I catch the dirty footwear with both of my hands.

“That’s my girl,” Nikita says. “Let that spider meet its maker.” She grips her hips and bobs her head and shoulders. Either she’s dancing to an inaudible tune or wants everyone to note her bouncing tatas.

With cautious steps, I edge my way over to the window, inhaling sharp breaths and surveying the courtyard. My raging heart slows at the sight of the red-breasted bird trekking through the snow-covered ground. Relief washes over me, relaxing my muscles.

Thomas (narcissistic personality disorder/I throw a tantrum over everything that doesn’t go my way.), a Buddhist boy who believes he’s a supreme deity, screams, “I was a spider in a former life! Don’t kill it!”

“And now you’re God? Don’t you have to drop your ego if you want to achieve Nirvana?” Crystal (bipolar/borderline personality disorder/colossal B-word) patronizes.

He curses at her.

“Yeah, real nice job keeping up your
excellent
Karma.”

I shake my head. If Karma exists, hers is worse than everyone else’s. We met when they made her a permanent resident at age eight. She got in trouble for busting a kid’s head open because he called her fat. It wasn’t her first altercation, so her rich parents paid for the unit to take her. She was nice at first. She even asked me to describe my visions and fantasies. I loved getting to talk to someone who believed me, but she repeated my hallucinations to the other patients and made fun of me behind my back. I cried for weeks after they tortured me with details of my imagined past. Trust takes time now, but her ability to convince her parents to have her released has made me a fan. Just by watching her, I’ve learned to lie.

“Don’t kill it!” Thomas pleads with his eyes.

No one is wrong about him. His illness betrays his religion, but I refuse to treat anyone the way she treated me. Everyone deserves compassion. So, despite there being no actual eight-legged freak, I keep up my ruse by opening the window and setting the arachnid free. Thank God this one has bars and isn’t sealed shut.

Nikita slaps her thighs and grunts. “Great! It’ll get bigger and sneak back in, EM-MA.”

“I take it I’m not your girl anymore, NI-KI-TA,” I say, returning her shoe.

She grins, and we fist bump. “Nah, it’s all good. It’d be even better if you hook me up with your boy.” She makes a kissy face and points at Zack.

Heat rises to my cheeks. “If you needed my help, you wouldn’t be in here, now would you?”

Her body sways. “Tsk. Yeah, you right.”

I nod and return to my seat between Zack and Elle (severe depression/best friend/my daily source of entertainment). “Thanks for not killing it,” she says.

I grin. “I think we all learned that lesson the last time.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want a repeat of Nikita holding us hostage until the critter was dead. She took forever to nail that fly.”

I shake my head. “I’d do anything to avoid Thomas calling me a murderer and crying all night. Besides, it’s good to respect other people’s beliefs.”

She nods. “You have the makings of a powerful leader. Unlike me. I don’t care enough about petty things.”

My brows narrow. “Murder is petty?”

She nods. “If the victim is a fly, yes.”

We both laugh.

Tiffany flicks the lights on and off, her signal for
let’s refocus
, and returns to her chair across from me in our makeshift circle.

“Edward,” Tiffany says, clasping her hands together, “let’s continue.”

Edward (social anxiety disorder/afraid of his own shadow) stutters a few words before I tune him out and return to my window gazing.

To my surprise, the bird from before gains velocity and flies over to the brick building across the street: Sally’s Bakery, where Christmas decorations light up the frosted display windows.

A few weeks from now, the staff will order sugar-free cupcakes to go along with our holiday dinner. I’ll be gone by then, yet my endorphins spike by expecting the sweetness touching my tongue. Sweets are a rarity here. Patients have parents who visit on the weekend and bring them money to buy candy from the vending machines downstairs. I’ve never been so lucky. I’m the girl without a family: New York’s little mystery.

“Emma?” a familiar voice says.

I jerk my head to the side. “Huh?”

Elle runs a hand through her choppy hair. The black makes her flawless, pale skin stand out, and her radiance shines through her rosy lips and big, brown eyes. “Your turn,” she responds.

“Oh.” I scan the room. With the spider incident over, everyone exhibits their typical behaviors: Crystal pushes back her cuticles with her thumbnail; Elle draws on her clipboard; Mark (panic disorder) shakes his legs while staring at the tiled floor as if it will crumble and swallow him whole at any moment; Zack yawns and scratches his brow.

“I’m Emma.” As a coping mechanism, I (schizo extraordinaire/time jumper/princess of magical beings on an island hidden away in the ocean) categorize people and things, but I never reveal my placements. It’s
offensive
. People who aren’t schizophrenic avoid tiny boxes.
I
thrive on them.

A reality check isn’t a joke; it’s a necessity. Are things I experience real or figments of my imagination? At times, it's hard to tell. That’s why I’m in here, why I’ve been here since I turned five.

I wave at the two fresh faces in the room, the ones Elle assured me were real. Their presence depresses me because they won’t be the only newcomers this winter. New York’s suicidal teens flood this place during the holidays. I’ve spent years envying characters on TV who get to attend Christmas parties, stuff themselves with food, and open gifts. How can people hate that? Even I, a girl who has no family or home, enjoy a good celebration.

Little happens in a psych ward. Monique (nurse) plays carols at the nurse’s station; Jeff (staff member/keeper of the keys to freedom) gives us more time to play; Tiffany lets me eat snacks during therapy; and the other workers bring in Christmas movies from home. Though I’m thankful for our traditions, celebrating in the free world is a long-held ambition.

In my fantasies, I sit in front of a fireplace with Zack and Elle. We sip on hot cocoa, make a mess with wrapping paper, and eat so much our stomachs ache. These newcomers don’t know how good they have it.

I fiddle with my hands as the strong scent of urine invades my nose, and the heating unit kicks on. Nervous Edward must’ve soiled himself again. He shouldn’t have to take part in group sessions.

I do my best to ignore the foul odor by turning my head to the side. “I have schizophrenia, but my medication is working.” On most days. “I’ve had no hallucinations in over a year.” I want them to believe. “And I’m no longer paranoid.” Instead, I’m a boring grocery list with only fruits and vegetables on it and nothing interesting. Dull, reserved, and trapped: those are the words that describe me best. But soon, I’ll be an ice cream sundae with gummy bears and whipped topping.

Tiffany glances up from her old-school, yellow legal pad, her eyes a reddish-brown. “And what are you looking forward to?” She runs the back end of a pencil through her voluminous, shoulder-length, auburn hair until it meets the edge of her thick-rimmed, dark red glasses.

Life.

I flick up the corner of my paper, which the clipboard in my lap secures. “Group home when I turn eighteen, just a few days from now.” I smooth out the creased edge, but it doesn’t stay flat. “Sorry for being so antsy.” To keep from fidgeting, I sit on my hands. “If I don’t get picked, I’ll be sent to the adult unit.” She knows this, being my personal therapist for the last decade, but the new residents don’t. So, I have to reiterate it to make everyone comfortable sharing. Closed-off behavior isn’t a choice. For Nervous Edward’s sake, I wish it were. The poor boy thinks we don’t smell his pee.

Tiffany tilts her head to the side and lowers her pencil. “Does that alternative scare you?”

I huff and rub my thumbnail. “More than anything.” Hunched over my clipboard, I shake my head. “Been living in this building for the last thirteen years. Don’t want to transfer to another one and never get out.” Tears pool as I straighten my spine and take a deep breath. I refuse to mope. Dark days of self-pity, days where I sat in a shadowed corner crying or yelling at everyone, are over. They ended when Zack and Elle came into my life and cured my unbearable loneliness. I will
not
go back.

Tiffany scribbles something before adjusting her glasses. “What about group home? Any concerns there?”

I shake my head. If Elle’s my roommate, I’ll be fine. “No.”

She looks at me with anticipation, so I shrug and vent. “It’s time.” I grab the end of my braided hair and twist it around my wrist. The length of it shows just how long I’ve been in here. “Even though I’m nervous, it’ll be nice to finally breathe.”

Hot dogs made of sewer rat meat, here I come. It’s time to be normal—free—or at least fake it. Sealed windows, doors that need keys or key cards to open, and staff members who monitor everything from behavior to bowel movements in fifteen-minute increments prevent any sense of freedom from materializing in here.

A breath through my nose and a glance at the window strengthens my desire for liberation—my internal need to be a bird, to spread my wings and soar above the skyline, to take a risk.

“Independence is a healthy desire,” Tiffany says, picking up a water bottle by her chair. She takes a sip and twists the top on before setting it down and clearing her throat. “Thank you for sharing. Zack?”

The clatter of a pencil hitting floor tiles draws my attention to him. As he bends to retrieve it, his shirt rides up his muscular back, and a flutter of nerves runs up my spine. As the hottest and most charming (though the latter can be attributed to his disorder) guy ever to grace this place, his smile liquefies me.

Elle won’t let me evaporate. Her toleration of our friendship is as gracious as she’ll be. He’s not capable of love, but he can imitate human emotions until I fall for him and succumb to his manipulation. Against my volition, she’s my Zack sponsor.