Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,7
a whirl.” Shifting until I felt more comfortable in the armchair, which was so large that it swamped me, I closed my eyes and tried to do what she’d instructed. I knew precisely which part of my memory I needed to claw my way into, though it wasn’t so much an actual memory as the recollection of a dream.
I took a few deep breaths, sinking deeper into my subconscious with each lungful, the way Victoria had taught me over the last six months. The feel of the smooth armchair underneath my fingertips disappeared and the sound of Victoria’s breathing faded to nothing, my awareness of her office melting away until there was nothing but blank darkness in my mind. A clean slate with which I’d start building the image I needed.
Think of glass. It’s smooth and cold to the touch, with a bluish tint and a breath of frost across it. It’s all around me—a pane on each side, one on the floor, and one forming the roof of the box. Like a construction worker, I brought the pieces into that dark space in my head, putting myself in the center of it. Well, a projection of myself. The glass panes slotted into position, trapping me. Already, a flicker of claustrophobia made my lungs clench slightly, though I tried to carry on breathing deeply for the sake of the meditative state.
Dark figures in cloaks. Everyone I love, standing watching, doing nothing. A shadow breathing down my neck. He’s cold, and his voice sends a shudder up my spine. I’m trapped in here with him, because they think I am what he is. A monster. I used the narrative to bring in the primary players, the cloaked members of the SDC—family, friends, and those in between—appearing in front of the frosted glass. Using my artistic flair, I added detail to my mother’s sad face, drawing in the crow’s feet around her eyes and the trembling of her lower lip as she condemned her daughter to a life of imprisonment. I did the same with my father, manipulating his face so that he had it turned away, his eyes lowered as if he couldn’t even look at me. For Tobe and Genie, I made sure they looked distraught, their eyes wide and glittering with un-spilled tears. I needed it to hit me hard.
It’s safer for everyone… As if I had pressed play on a paused screen, the scene began to play out as it did in my dreams. I didn’t have that nightmare as often as I used to, but it still popped in once a week, usually around the same time I Purged. I’d chosen the trigger most likely to set me off, as my psyche now associated the two things.
I was inside the box now, no longer seeing it as a projection but feeling as though I were actually, physically, painfully there. Everyone began to turn away from me, the jangle of keys rattling in my ears and giving the imprisonment a sense of finality. It played out familiarly. I screamed. I pounded at the glass. There was blood, sweat, and tears. And I was infinitely alone.
Except for one person, if you could call him that.
Persephone? Are you in pain? Leviathan’s voice boomed in my skull, but he wasn’t behind me, as he always was in this nightmare. This was the real Leviathan, making contact through my meditative state. Persephone, talk to me. Are you reaching out to me? Are you in trouble? I am here. I am always here.
I scrambled free of the image I’d crafted in my mind, using the skills Victoria had taught me to unravel what I’d built. It began with pushing my finger hard into the slight dip behind my ear, where there was a nerve point—a trigger method we’d worked on long and hard so I would always have a way out of the “re-experiencing walks,” as she called them. The box stayed exactly where it was, my family and friends still visible in the near distance. Utter terror seized me, freezing the blood in my veins. The nerve trick had never failed before, but my memory wasn’t fading.
Persephone? Your heart is beating too fast. Calm down, my darling. You must breathe… Leviathan urged.
I pushed harder into the nerve point behind my ear, still crying from the experience of the nightmare. I didn’t know if it was possible to get stuck inside a memory, but this wasn’t one I wanted to be trapped in.