Chapter 13

Not sure howlong I stayed there, but eventually I began to feel the cold. I’d half laid down on the uneven stairs, had made myself comfortable with my arms under my head, watching the sky and the forest, thinking. Wondering—about everything. Floating shelves and glowing water and reasons why the Paradise was what it was. Reasons why the Paradise felt like it wasn’t even part of the real world, but a fantasy that Mama Si allowed us to take place in somehow.

Such silly thoughts, I understood that. But my mind wandered as the cold air hit my ankles like someone had turned on an air conditioner and pointed it at me.

Which was strange, but I didn’t really realize it. Not until I sat up, body a bit numb, and I decided to call it a night.

That’s when I saw where the cold was coming from.

It wasn’t an air conditioner at all—it was the outside. The cold air was coming from the outside, from the missing glass panel Amber had stained pink with her lips.

I blinked and blinked and blinked, sure that I was seeing things. Sure that I’d lost my mind because that piece of glass had been right there until a moment ago, just like all the others to the sides of it that made up the wall. That piece of glass had been there, and Amber had kissed it, had left the imprint of her lips right on it. I’d seen it, had looked at it even after she left.

Now it was gone. The lipstick was gone, and so was the glass. A goddamn piece of glass as big as a door had simply disappeared into thin air, and I hadn’t even noticed it.

My instincts told me to run. Just get to my feet and run up the stairs and outside this room, go get a maid or Mama Si or anyone at all to come see that the glass was gone. It was gone, and it hadn’t been broken or anything. I’d have heard, would have seen the pieces of glass, but there were none.

Yet somehow, for some fucked up reason, I didn’t run. I just sat there and stared at the outside, at the trees that were right there, through the missing glass panel, until my ass turned numb.

Then, I stood up.

I couldn’t even explain what the hell I was thinking, but the outside was calling my name. I could hear it, even if it wasn’t a voice. It was a feeling or intuition or a thought in my head—of myself walking out there into the forest, breathing in the fresh air of the night, just being underneath those large trees that promised to keep me safe with each wave of a branch and each movement of the leaves.

I would be safe out there. I was still in the Paradise, and nothing was going to hurt me. I just needed to see what was out there. I needed to know.

So, I walked out.

My sneakers seemed to sink into the soil a little bit, though it wasn’t muddy. I stopped as a slow wind blew against my face, pushing my hair back, bringing with it the smell of roses. Bringing with it a warmth, a comfort that I felt deep inside my bones. The wind was calling my name, too, in the only way it knew how. The ocean was right there, foaming waves crashing against the shore slowly, surely, and it was within my reach. I could hear it, could almost smell the salt among the roses, and if I was brave enough to keep walking, I’d find it.

Who cared that the ocean was supposed to be hundreds of feet below the cliff upon which the Paradise was built? Who cared that these trees being here made no sense whatsoever—I could see them, feel them, and I could reach the ocean if I just kept on walking.

So, with the wind keeping me company, I started.

I started slowly, just to see what it would feel like, and at first, I didn’t even remember that Amber had told me about the animals she sometimes saw here. It didn’t occur to me until later that there could be big ones, wild ones that could tear me to pieces within seconds—and who was going to even hear me screaming?

Nobody, yet I kept going, looking up at the thick canopy that had stolen the view of the sky and the stars, and had gifted me with an even better one. A much darker one, but I could still somehow see. I could still make out the rough bark of the trees, and I touched them as I went. It felt incredible, like that simple touch connected me to the life inside those roots, and for that short second of contact we were one.

Then I saw the butterfly.

It was as big as the palm of my hand, white wings moving so gracefully, pulling in every ounce of light they could for themselves so that it looked like it was glowing.

I saw the pink fireflies, too. How strange. Amber had told me about it, but I hadn’t really believed her. I mean, pink fireflies? Impossible—yet I was smiling. There was no such thing, I knew that, but I was looking at a handful of them buzzing near a bush, and I was smiling.

The trees became fewer and farther apart the deeper I went. The fireflies seemed to be following me, even though they were afraid of me. Or maybe shy? Every time I tried to go closer, or if I even stopped and turned and watched them buzzing around one another for a moment, they flew farther away and sort of hid behind trees and leaves. No clue why that made me chuckle.

I must have walked for at least five minutes, slowly, following the wind and the sound of the ocean, and then I began to notice the small movements around the trees, too.

Animals. The animals Amber had told me about.

At first, I was afraid. I was terrified of the small movement, especially since I saw so little—but then the bush around the tree on my right moved, and out came a hedgehog.

An actual hedgehog was walking right there, barely five feet away from me.

Laughter burst out of me and I tried to catch it with my hands, sealed my mouth tightly with both of them, but the hedgehog heard. It heard and it started running back where it came from, behind the thick tree trunk and out of my sight in a second.

“No, no, wait!” I said, and I ran to catch him, but something else was moving on my left now, and it took me a second to realize they were hares. Three grey hares as big as cats were standing on their hind legs and they were watching me near a tree, ears perked up and their tiny noses moving as they sniffed the air.

“Oh! Hi, there,” I whispered in relief. Just hares.

They moved, too, but they didn’t run from me. Instead, they were coming toward me, slowly, hopping every couple steps. I lowered to my knees and tried not to make a single sound as to not spook them. It worked—they weren’t scared. On the contrary, they seemed to grow bolder and bolder the closer to me they came and realized I wasn’t going to hurt them.

Hares in the middle of a dark woods by the ocean at the back of Mama Si’s Paradise—and I couldn’t bring myself to think of how strange that sentence was, to be wary of the creatures approaching me, curiously sniffing me until they were close enough to touch. No, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with this at all, just reached out my hand and asked the hares:

“Mind if I pet you a little bit? Your fur looks so soft.” Soft and fuzzy and warm.

The hares didn’t answer—of course—but the one in the middle slowly leaned his head down, almost touching my knee in the process. I assumed that meant yes, so I lowered my hand on his back and I felt the tips of his fur against my palm. It was ticklish as fuck and I was giggling before I knew it.

I was giggling—right until I realized that his fur where I touched it had started to glow blue.

Every hair on my body suddenly stood at attention. The laughter got stuck in my throat, nearly suffocating me. My muscles locked, too, and I was stuck there with my hand on the hare’s back. He moved to the sides a bit as if to show me that wherever my hand had touched his fur, it glowed, like each strand was lit from within.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered when I found my voice and when I could move again to take my hand back.

Within seconds, the glow of his fur faded away.

His friends were basically on my lap now, too, their paws on my thighs, sniffing out my hands as if to say, touch me, too.

They didn’t attack me. They didn’t bite. They just squeaked softly and waited, their big beady eyes looking up at me expectantly.

I must have lost my damn mind because I was reaching out both shaking hands to touch the backs of their heads just slightly.

Their fur lit the hell up instantly as soon as I felt the heat of their bodies and they felt the heat of mine.

Pulling my lips inside my mouth, I reminded myself that if I screamed, I was going to scare them. If I screamed, they were going to run, and despite the absurdity of this situation, I wanted them to stay here. I wanted to keep touching them and try to figure out why in the fuck their fur was glowing.

So, I bit my tongue and I kept my hands on them and watched them glow until I wasn’t even shaking anymore.

More animals were coming closer to me from behind the trees, too. More hares, smaller ones with brown fur. A couple of hedgehogs, keeping their distance as they watched me from afar. A few beavers—and a fox.

My God, an orange fox with a black and white tail was right there behind the hares, looking at me as her gorgeous tail swooshed to the sides slowly. Her brown eyes watched me curiously, and I had no idea how I knew it was a she, but there was no doubt in my mind about it.

“Won’t you come closer?” I asked, and even my voice sounded strange. It sounded almost like I was inside, not in a woods. Almost like the whole woods was inside somewhere, and I still didn’t care. I wanted to see more, to know if the fur of that fox would light up if I touched it, to see if I could get the branches to do the same if I touched the trees for long enough.

Fuck, I wanted to stay here forever, until I’d learned every inch and every tree and every color these animals glowed at the touch of my hand.

Owls hanging out on the branches all around me, too. I adored birds, adored their song, but I’d always found owls freaky as hell with their big round eyes and expressionless faces and their hooting.

Not these, though. All these animals fascinated me, but right now I really wanted to touch that fox, so I slowly stood up and went to her.

“Mind if I pet you, pretty fox?” I asked in my kindest voice, expecting her to start running.

Instead, the fox looked at me for a good second, then lay down on the ground, resting her head on her black paws.

I didn’t even hesitate. I just ran my hand down her back slowly, and her fur glowed orange right away.

Tears pricked the back of my eyes and I couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.

“You glow, too,” I whispered to myself, laughing now, shoulders shaking, tears spilling out of my eyes.

The other smaller animals were at me again, surrounding me on all sides, and I touched all that I could reach until the forest came alive with blues and oranges and pinks, with fireflies that were coming closer each new minute.

It looked like I’d finally found the magicMama Si had talked about in the Paradise, and now I never wanted to leave here for real.

When I stood up to continue exploring, the animals followed me. It was darker in the woods when I wasn’t touching them, but the pink fireflies seemed to have multiplied, and they stayed ahead, guiding me because I had no clue where I had come from or where I was going. They did, though. And I followed until I was in a wide clearing and finally saw the blue sky and the stars again.

Funny thing was, I no longer heard the sound of the ocean.

My legs were a bit numb, though. I must have walked for longer than I’d realized because I really needed to sit and rest for a minute. It wasn’t like I could get lost here…could I? Right now, I couldn’t make out the mansion from here because of the trees, but it would be close, possibly within running distance. Nothing to worry about. So, I sat with the animals in front of the nearest tree, rested my back against it, and I let go of a long breath.

My God, the way the clearing looked from here.

Pink fireflies around me. Glowing animal fur surrounding me. The open sky and the gorgeous trees and that smell—of salt and of earth. No scent of roses here, I noticed. And it was so damn peaceful I couldn’t help the smile on my face.

My eyes drifted shut as the animals settled, most of them already half asleep. The fox had come with, too, and she had wrapped her tail all around herself, eyes closed and breathing even. The hedgehogs still kept a good distance, and the owls still stayed on the branches, and birds were singing somewhere in the distance. I heard them even though I didn’t see them, and my heart about burst with joy. The ground and the wood of the tree was softer than a damn mattress underneath me somehow, and my hand fell on a piece of wood rising from the ground—a root. A single root to the tree behind me, almost like it was reaching its hand out to hold mine. I held it, too.

The melody of my favorite song on the piano played inside my head, matching the song of the birds. I heard every note as clearly as if it was real. It was a sad song, slow and heartbreaking, but at the same time it gave me energy. At the same time that melody gave me hope so I clung to it. After all, my only good memory that wasn’t even fully a memory was of when I played the piano. When I was a teenager and I broke into my high school building and I locked myself in the music room until dawn, trying to make music. Teaching myself how to play the piano and the guitar, the flute, and even the drums.

That feeling was unlike any other. The release it gave me. The fulfillment.

Eventually, something underneath me began to move.

My eyes opened just a slit, and a funny thought occurred to me—underground snakes were slithering their way right underneath me.

I wasn’t scared, though. Something must have been really wrong with me, because I eagerly waited for them to come out instead, but…

It wasn’t snakes moving underneath me. It was wood.

Tree roots—and not just the roots of the tree I was resting against, but those of all the trees around me as well.

I sat up straighter and the animals were wide awake, too, watching those roots slithering underground, then dancing atop the surface, rising up as if they were trying to reach for the sky. They were rising and twisting and turning, some growing thicker, spiraling around one another until they formed a big rectangular object in the middle of the clearing.

A big rectangle, and a smaller one next to it—and then something white shone on the side, too. White and black, different from the roots and tiny leaves that made the rest of it.

Holding onto the tree behind me, I slowly stood up, the animals already halfway there. I blinked my eyes and I filled my lungs with enough air and allowed myself a moment to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, but nothing in front of me changed.

I was looking at a piano made out of tree roots, and a small bench was in front of it, and the black and white keys looked clean and glossy and not at all like they belonged in a forest.

My body moved on its own, my legs taking me forward. The last time I played the piano was the night before I came to Roven. I snuck into the school for one last time that night, my hopes and dreams so damn big.

It shocked me to realize it now—where had they gone?

How had they faded into the background like that and I hadn’t even realized it? When had I lost them, lost myself?

Slowly, I sat down on the bench, unable to breathe properly still, but who really needed air at this point? I sat down on the roots, and they weren’t uncomfortable at all, or maybe I was just numb. I put my hands over the keys just to test them, see if they were as real as my eyes insisted.

The pads of my fingers touched the shiny surface lightly, and a surge of energy had my body sizzling within two seconds.

They were real. There were there.

A piano in the middle of a forest—and it was mine.

Closing my eyes, I let go of a long breath, and I began to play.

The notes came out even more beautiful than I remembered. Two years had passed since I’d played this song, but I could have sworn that the melody tonight had more magic to it. More rhythm. More life.

I missed notes and the tempo was a bit off, but it was still perfect. The hares and the beavers climbed the roots on the piano to get to the top of it, and they watched me playing curiously, sniffing the air as if they could smell the melody I created, too. They could smell it, and they loved it just as much as I did.

There was no rhyme or reason to what I was living right now, and that was okay. I accepted whatever the possibility might be—that I was dreaming, that I had lost my mind, that I had died and this was the actual afterlife. I accepted whatever option as long as I got to do this until I no longer felt my body.

And I did.

I played without stop until my fingers were numb and my heart was full and my soul was at peace. I played until the sun began to rise on the horizon and the ground began to shake a little bit and the tree roots began to unwind from one another, slipping underneath the surface again.

I watched the piano disappear just as fast as it had appeared, smiling still. And when the sky turned a light grey, I made my way back to the mansion together with the animals.

It was easy. My feet knew the way. The mansion was right there, and the glass panel was still missing to let me in.

“Wait for me,” I told the animals as they watched me from behind the trees, looking up at the building curiously. “I’ll be back tonight, I promise. Wait for me.”

It was a promise I intended to keep.