The Words We Keep
: Chapter 13

That night, I dream I’m in the ocean.

Alice walks toward me.

Made of light and water, air and love.

But she can’t reach me.

She disintegrates into the waves.

I scream for her but suck in only ocean.

Salty and cold. It fills me.

A wave tosses me

upside down,

right side up—

tumbling me like a rag doll.

I want to swim up.

Out.

But I can’t tell up.

Or down.

Or out.

So I just keep spinning

turning

tumbling.

The waves whisper to me.

Come.

Join us.

It’s easy.

Just let go.

I believe them.

Let them take me.

I become the sea.

—

I gasp awake, my lungs hungry.

The edges of my dream remain.

Water.

Waves.

Alice.

“You were screaming,” she says in the darkness.

I suck my voice back in.

Inhale it like seawater.

Deep.

Deep.

My lungs fill

with ocean

and words

and screams.

—

I wake again, more fully and drenched in sweat.

Alice hovers at the side of my bed—a ghost in the night.

“You were doing it again,” she says.

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay?” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Yeah. I’m—”

terrified

“—fine.”

She retreats to her side of the universe, and I stare at the ceiling, my finger pressed against the vein in my neck—165. My fingers are sticky and my side hurts. In the bathroom mirror, I lift my shirt and turn sideways to get a better angle on the side of my abdomen, right above where my jeans normally hit. There, where no one else can see, is a patch of bright red, angry splotches where I’ve ripped open my skin in my sleep.

Disgusting.

I wipe the blood off my stomach, rinse it from my hands.

Back in my bed, I open my planner to the last page, to the evidence of my questionable sanity. I add a new line.

8. Am clawing myself to shreds.

I can’t keep doing this.

Across the room, Margot’s huddled up tight next to Alice, holding on for dear life.

We can’t keep doing this.

Even if Micah does help me find my muse (which is still a huge if), it’s going to take a lot more than UC Berkeley to save this family.

I flip to a blank page of my planner and make a new list.

The Plan

1. Win this poetry contest.

2. Get the REAL Alice back.

3. Fix my own crazy.

Simple.

Easy.

Totally doable.

Except I have no idea how.

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