Dare’s words grow quieter and I strain to hear, because he’s talking through a tunnel, through light and wind and my heartbeat.
“You’re dying,” he whispers. “If you don’t wake up, you’ll be lost.”
Chapter 30
The world slows to a stop.
My heart beats.
It’s dark.
There is no ocean.
There are no waves.
There is no sun or rain or moon.
There is only my breathing, and beeps, and fingers wrapped around my hand, and I’m in a bed. I’m not in the ocean or the on the cliffs.
“Come back to me, Calla,” Dare whispers, and angst laces his words, and his words impale my heart. “Please God, come back to me. Time is running out. Don’t do this, please, God, don’t do this. They’re going to take you off the machine, and if you don’t breathe on your own, you’ll die. Please God. Please.”
He begs someone, whether it is God or me, I don’t know.
“We’ve already lost everything else,” he whispers. “Please, God. Come back to me. Come home to me. Come home.”
I try to open my eyes, but it’s too hard.
My eyelids are heavy.
The darkness is black.
Dare keeps talking, his words slow and soothing and I might float away on them. It would be so easy.
Death waits for me.
I can see his face now, and he waits in the light behind Dare’s shoulder.
He nods.
It’s time.
But it can’t be. Because Dare is here, and still holding my hand. He talks to me, he tells me everything that’s happened, and when he gets tired of talking, he hums.
The same wordless, tuneless song I’ve been hearing all along.
Death moves closer, one step nearer.
I try to cry out, but nothing comes.
I try again to open my eyes, but I can’t. And I can’t move my fingers.
It’s all too much.
Too much.
I think about getting frantic,
And I almost do.
But to keep calm,
I replay the facts in my head.
My name is Calla Price.
I’m eighteen years old, and I’m half of a whole.
My other half, my twin brother, my Finn, is crazy.
Finn is dead.
My mother is dead.
My father is dead.
Dare’s mother is dead.
I’ve spent every summer at Whitley my entire life.
I’ve loved Dare since I was small.
I’ve been floating in a sea of insanity, and I can’t wake up.
I can’t wake up.
Dare is my lifeline.
He’s still here.
I focus every ounce of strength I have, trying to force my hand into gripping his, the hands that I love so much, the hand that has held mine for so long.
But I’m helpless.
I’m weak.
Death takes another step, but I can’t scream.
It’s when he touches Dare that I bolster my strength.
He puts his hand on Dare’s shoulder,
And I can’t take that.
Don’t touch Dare, I want to scream. You took his mother, but you’re not taking him! He’s innocentHe’sInnocentHe’sInnocent!
But his fingers drum on Dare’s skin,
And everything in me boils,
And screams.
And somehow,
Some way,
I harness my energy,
And my finger twitches.
Dare’s humming stops.
“Calla?” he asks quickly, hope so potent in his voice.
I move my finger again, and it’s all the strength I have left.
I can’t move again, but I think it was enough.
Dare’s gone,
Gone from my side,
Yelling for someone,
For anyone.
Other voices fill my room,
Circling my bed,
And Dare’s voice is drowned.
He’s gone,
but others have replaced him.
I’m poked,
I’m prodded,
My lids are lifted and lights are shined into my eyes.
“It’s a miracle,” someone announces.
I can’t stay awake.
My strength is gone.
I fall asleep wishing Dare would come back.
I don’t know how long I sleep.
I only know that I dream,
And now, when I dream,
They’re lucid.
I’m no longer insane.
I don’t know why.
Olivia sits in front of me, her smile gentle and soft.
“My boy wasn’t meant for you, but you took him anyway.”
I swallow hard because I did take him.