In a way, it’s why I don’t blame Maggie more than I do. Because I’ve spent too long trying to frame this.
The first hits were aimed at knocking me out, or at least leaving me senseless. Aimed at the temple, hitting my ear instead, cutting it.
Another blow, aimed at the same spot, maybe by the same person, hitting the edge of my eye socket.
A jab at my ass with something long and sharp, raucous laughter.
I fought, lashing out, hurled the first thing my hand could find.
They fought back, focusing mostly on my head, until they saw a chance to grab my arms, holding me down, my legs kicking.
It didn’t matter, the struggling. They took turns. Aiming at the head, aiming at the stomach, legs, groin, knees.
End it. Please. I can feel it all. How much experience can an echo cover?
The emotions- hatred, confusion, mindless animal terror.
It was like each hit beat me down a little more. Pushed me further back. Put me in the mindset I’d had when I was just a little younger. Being a teenager, so frustrated, hurting in ways I couldn’t put words to.
Being a small child, wanting his mom.
They were slowing down.
I was left with only the hurt. Feeling like I had as a kid, in some after school activity, after some older kids had mocked me in the changing room, chanting at me “you suck, you suck!” Just as unable to comprehend how people could do something so cruel. Making the connection between things I’d read about and the fact that it could really happen in reality.
They stopped.
I wasn’t even a four or five year old, in terms of where I was mentally or emotionally.
Four or five year olds could move of their own volition.
I was left to lie there, in a spot that most people wouldn’t go to, beside the road, overlooking the water.
They must have seen me take the path down.
My eyes fell on a sparrow, sitting on a short sign.
“I can’t do anything here,” Evan said.
Yeah.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m really sorry.”
I wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. For being unable to help?
For having seen it?
The echo didn’t stop.
The scene became fractured, skipping across the highlight reel. What I had anticipated as one night of mild discomfort would be a few days. The highlight real treated me to all of the most emotional moments in those days that followed.
I’d been considering going home, before that. Stupidly, stubbornly, I’d told myself I would wait until the cuts and bruises were gone.
■
I inhaled as if I were coming up from underwater. I took a step back, forgetting that there was snow blocking my range of movement, and I stumbled.
“You and I both know what this next one entails,” Conquest said.
“Fuck you,” I gasped out the words. “Fuck you, Conquest. You shitstain! You think this makes you look strong? Your worst doesn’t even compare to what petty humans do to each other!”
“Are you sincerely asking me to do my worst to you?” Conquest asked. There was fucking amusement in his voice.
“I’d ask you to fuck yourself, but I doubt you’re that well endowed, if you’re pulling this petty fucking shit!”
“It seems to be having an effect on you,” he said.
I shook my head. The scene was replaying in my head.
“It wasn’t real,” I said. “It… that wasn’t exactly how it happened.”
“Close enough to matter,” he said. “Holes had to be filled in, gaps covered.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
“Let’s see how accurate this next one turned out,” he said.
The echo didn’t rush.
It limped.
Eyes downcast.
Just looking at it was as bad as everything else Conquest had put me through.
I backed up. Even in the snow, I was faster.
Until hands gripped my upper arms.
For a moment, I thought it had me. Fear overtook me.
“This is for the best,” Laird said, in my ear.
I tried to retort, but the words didn’t find their way to my mouth.
I struggled, and he held me fast.
Evan flew between us, breaking Laird’s hold, and I heard him fluttering in my ear as Laird screamed all of a sudden.
I was free.
But the echo was too close now.
I turned, thinking I could move away faster if I wasn’t walking backward, and I felt it seize my wrist.
■
No.
One man, this time.
His features were distorted, but I’d been messed up enough after the fact that it might have muddled the memories, distorted the echo.
No, no, no.
“What’s-” Evan started.
“What can I do?” Evan cried out.
Nothing. It’s a scene, it wants to play out. Just talk to me, distract me, okay?
“It can’t be that simple!”
It is. It’s as simple as it gets.
People suck.
“What about your friends? Your friends don’t suck! Ty is cool!”
And Alexis, and Tiff, and Joel, yeah. But I really don’t want to associate them with this. Something else.
“This thing is a ghost? The echo?”
Yeah.
“Then, like me? Are there ghost weaknesses?”
Not like you. It’s a replay.
“Fast forward! Stop! Pretend it’s a video, like it’s art, and change it like you would the video, right?”
Like June? Calling events to mind?
Yeah.
Skip to the end.
Alexis sat in front of me as I woke.
“Shh,” she said. “I’m here. I’m not doing anything, I’m not going anywhere. Just rest. Feel better.”
I let my head down to the ground.
“If you need anything, no matter how minor, stupid or hard to get? Ask. I’ll figure it out,” she said.
“Just stick around,” I muttered.
“I can do that.”
A burst of gratitude, big enough to leave a mark, alongside all the other crazy, mixed-up emotions.
■
I stirred, but this time I didn’t gasp. Laird had backed off a little.
Silently, quickly, I grabbed the splinter of wood I’d been given to find the eraser demon.
I stabbed it into Laird’s neck.