Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 105

                I see a thick line of fir trees. They’re not big, I imagine they grow them so they can have their pick of Christmas trees, but where me and my family are sitting, they can’t see behind them.

                I make for them. I realise that while I pant and feel a tightness in my chest, I have no desire to stop. I’m not getting tired. I use this to my advantage and dive behind the trees as Teague starts to get close. I dive and keep on falling into the Edge.

                I feel his fingers drag against my ankle but then they’re gone. I hate not understanding things. The fact that I don’t know what will happen if I just carry on falling drives me to the point of madness every time I see this place. I also don’t know what will happen if I travel out of here and leave Teague behind. He’ll be trapped in my memories and god only knows what he could do to me. He can’t change them, my experience with Yates taught me that, but still, he’d be inside my subconscious. If we’re getting out of here, I’m taking him with me and then leaving him.

                I re-enter a random memory. I instantly regret it. The beige carpet, the big sofa, the film I didn’t like on the television are all too familiar. I realise my heart is pounding. I’m scared and it lead me here.

                I see myself on the sofa with a girl. I look away but it’s hard to. I can’t look anywhere else. She’s kissing me and I don’t want to kiss her. Everything she ever said to me comes rushing back. This is my worst memory. It’s not terrible, it’s not life-ending or something that means I need therapy, but Isobel was horrible to me. We do silly things when we feel lonely and that’s why I decided to go around her house so much. To sit and let her insult me and call me pathetic and say my dreams weren’t valid.

                Her too-long blonde hair is falling over my face and I remembering it tickling. I want to leave, but Teague’s already there. I don’t want him to see this.

                I turn but he grabs my arm. He looks to the image before him. He smirks and looks back to me.

                ‘I can feel how scared you are,’ he says. ‘Do you realise how long it took me to do all the research, all the work to get me to this point? And you come along and try to throw it all down the drain.’

                ‘Look,’ I say, tearing my arm from his grasp. He has no control over me here. ‘Don’t think I’m scared of you for a second.’