I'm Not Supposed to Be in the Dark by Riss M. Neilson

Author:Riss M. Neilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

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While Bri snores on her bed, I try to write notes in my journal but find myself staring into her vanity mirror. The small lights make the blue in my eyes glow the same color coming from me at the estate. My hand shakes. I put my pen down and examine the rest of me. My nose, my neckline, my throat. I mostly look like me, but I am different.

Shadows slink on the wall behind me and above Bri’s head. I tear myself from the mirror with a sigh and crawl into bed beside her. For the briefest moment, before sleep comes for me, I wonder if I made a mistake when I stopped drinking my tea.

I drift right into the gray.

The shadows are silver, black, white threads weaving and intermingling, tangling and growing. They glow and so do I. My hands are wispy, almost translucent, then sparkling before becoming moonlight. I’m not afraid when I reach out and grab for the shadows, but they suddenly become solid in my luminous hands. They don’t just take on shapes, they become people without color. Black-and-white like an old movie. They stare into my eyes, ask me to help, they cry, pull at their hair, they’re scared.

We see you, they say. We see you.

Behind me, the abyss forms. Slowly spinning, pulling, eating everything around me. Colorless spirits get sucked into its gaping mouth. They try to cling for something. They try to cling to me. The abyss takes whatever it wants. But it doesn’t take me.

And it doesn’t take Derek’s body.

There you are, Bluebird, the spirit inside of him says from beside me. Startling black eyes staring into my soul.

I wake up right then, gasping for air, choking on my saliva, gripping the sheets.

Sound floats across the room. A whisper, singsong. “Ariiiiiia,” someone calls. Once. Then again. Brianna is still asleep beside me and the wind brushes up against the window and I can’t shut the sounds out. I sit up, swing my legs off the bed and head for the light switch. Bri doesn’t flinch when the room goes bright. I remember the faces of the spirits, but can’t see them right now, even though it feels like some of them see me. I brace myself against Bri’s desk, knowing my whole life will be different. My heartbeat slows in understanding.

The spirits are a part of me and I am a part of them.

I am changed. Was this what I was asking for?

I need something for my burning throat, to splash water on my face, to speak to Derek.

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