(Separated into 2 parts because there was too many words haha) Tw, death, stuff like that My eyes are closed. “I wonder why she's in here.” I’m on the floor. “I’m pretty sure she was in the race.” I can’t move. “Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” I still can't move. “Wake up!” Now I can move. I open my eyes, and sit up quickly, too quickly. I topple over to the side, and 2 voices laugh at me. “Yes!” A boy says triumphantly from behind me. “Hello there,” a girl says from beside me. “What,” is all I can muster to get out of my mouth. So many thoughts are running through my head. Where am I? Who are these people? How did I get here? Why am I here? The memory of the race slowly filters through my memory. The girl from earlier starts, “Oh no, she might’ve…” but trails off. I look around and spot her. She is sitting on a stack of what looks like letters. Her wavy long red hair falls on her shoulders. Freckles dot her skin, and sharp blue eyes stare back at me. Her expression becomes flustered. “Oh, umm, what's your name?” She manages to get out. “Veronica,” I say, but why would she need my name right now? “Umm, where am I?” I ask her. A look of relief floods over her face. Why is she relieved? Does she know who I am somehow? Word must’ve got out about what happened. “She thought your memory was wiped.” A boy says from a few feet away. His appearance is strange, but I can't place why. He looks normal, plain black hair, tan skin, and brown eyes. It’s the eyes. They give off a sort of weird glow, but you don’t notice it unless you stare right at them. “What is-” but he cuts me off. “You’re in a high security prison. The walls are invisible, we can't get to each other. We know about the races. No, you won't be getting out anytime soon. Those letters are from Miranda’s mom, she gets one a day. I can read your mind, that's how I know what you're thinking, and that's why my eyes do that.” “Oh umm, ok.” That was weird. “Hey!” He says. “I heard that! Read your mind, remember.” He says back. “Emmet!” scowls Miranda. “Yeah yeah,” he says, not the least bit sorry. “Oh and that's Clarence.” He says, pointing behind me. I look back, I hadn't even noticed him before. He has white curls that fluff up around his head and covers his eyes, a large birthmark that travels from the side of his cheek to his neck, and an unusual mysterious feeling when I look at him. “Wait, umm, what?” I say. This is all very strange. “It’s all very confusing on the first few days, you’ll get used to it.” Emmet says to me. “We’re all here because we can do things that ‘normal’,” he puts emphasis on the word normal, “people can’t do. Miranda is essentially a human siren, I can read minds, and Clarence…” but he trails off at Clarence. A voice starts talking in my head. “I can do this,” the voice says. I jump back, and bump into what must’ve been the invisible wall. “What was that?!” I demand. “He talks in your head like that,” Miranda continues. “He does other things too. He can hurt people from miles away, and he can,” but she suddenly stops. “He can what?” I ask. Then, she falls off of her stack of letters, and starts kicking them. “Oh no not again!” Emmet says in an annoyed tone. “What?!” I say. What in the world is happening to me? Maybe this is all a big nightmare. Yeah, I’ll just wake up, and be back at home where it’s all safe. “Clarence, stop that!” Emmet yells at him. I look over at Clarence. His hair is out of his eyes, and he looks at me. Staring back at me are piercing red eyes. I jump back in shock. What is up with everybody's eyes today?! “They don’t get it,” he says inside my head. He looks back at Miranda, and she abruptly stops kicking her letters. Now, she walks a few feet, falls over, and falls asleep. “This is the only fun I’ll ever get,” muses Clarence's voice in my mind. “And she shouldn’t even tried to tell you about me without you experiencing it.” Experience it? Experience it! I don’t want to experience any more of this Clarence person. “Clarence, that’s not what I meant by ‘stop this.’” Emmet says. I don’t think he hears what Clarence said to me. “Wake her up and let her control her own body.” “No,” Clarence says, out loud. His voice sends a chill through my body, colder than a winter wind. It sounds cold, and harsh, like metal breaking on rock, or ice cracking over a pond. “I think that’s enough Emmet,” Clarence says. If the word no was worse than winter wind, then five whole words should’ve been so much worse. But they weren’t. This time, they felt warm and sweet, like a sip of hot cocoa, with extra peppermint. “Wait, but-” Emmet tries to get out, but Clarence stops him. (Continued below)
(Continued from above) “Good night, Emmet,” Clarence says. His voice is back to winter wind. Emmet crawls up in a ball on the ground, and falls asleep. Clarence turns to look at me. “I won't hurt you,” he says, “just maybe put you to sleep if you're annoying.” His voice changes again, this time I can't exactly place what it feels like. A warm fire? Family dinner? Maybe a good book on a rainy day? “How does your voice do that,” I ask him. “Which one,” he says. “Oh,” I say, “Umm the one out loud.” “What is it doing?” He asks plainly. Now it has stopped doing ‘the thing’. “It’s, it's changing, and, umm, well, I don’t know.” I try to explain, but of course it doesn’t work. “Sure,” he says. I’m a little surprised. I half expected him to decline, to want to talk, or do whatever it is he can do to me. “Take all the time you need, the first few days are very confusing. If you have any questions, just ask.” His voice does ‘the thing’ again. It makes me feel like I’m being wrapped in a warm blanket next to a fire, after almost freezing to death from a storm outside. I don’t know what it is about him, but I think he's safe to trust, for now. Or maybe it's just ‘the thing,’ and when his voice goes back, it’ll all stop. And does he keep his eyes covered because they're scary, or because it's how he uses his power. I put this on a mental list of things to ask him. How did everyone get here? We’re there any others? If so, where are they now? Dead? Brainwashed? In another prison? “So I hear you can talk to dragons,” he says, sounding almost amused. “Ice dragons,” I say back to him. I scrunch up against the wall and squirm a bit. I've always known that if I ever told anyone, then I would be killed or imprisoned. I guess I’m already imprisoned, but the subject still makes me uncomfortable. “Oh, ice dragons,” he says, surprised. I guess he thought it was just normal dragons. “Me too.” “Huh?” I say, surely I heard him wrong. “I can talk to ice dragons, just like you,” he says, as if I’m trying to annoy him. “But you couldn’t, if you, you can,” I stutter. “This is all too confusing for me. Can I have a minute?” I ask. Just then, Emmet stirs, and starts talking in his sleep. “Oh yes baby,” he says drowsily, “I’d kxzz you any day.” Clarence and I burst out laughing. “Now do you see,” Clarence says in between laughs, “how fun is this?” “I do now!” I say after a brief pause from laughing. But now, Emmet starts sleep talking again! “You’re such a good kisser Miranda!” He proclaims while rolling over. This sends us into another fit of hysterics. When I can finally wheeze out words, I say, “So what's this all about, you know, Emmet and Miranda?” I ask him, amused. “I've known for quite a while. Emmet thinks he's the only one who knows he likes Miranda, and Miranda is clueless about the whole situation,” he says. “Sounds like a bad soap opera,” I say. “It is, but much longer, and a lot funnier.” He says. “So a really terrible soap opera,” I say. “A really terrible soap opera,” he echos. The warm feeling flows through me again, more muffled, but it's there. I take this as a chance to ask him the questions. “We’re there any others, you know, in here?” I ask. His hair starts falling back over his eyes. A look of remembrance comes over his face. “Two others,” he says finally. “They had to put us in the normal prison while they were building this place. We almost escaped, but they caught us, tortured us, and threw us in here. Magic can’t travel through these walls,” he says as he hits the invisible wall with his fist. A flash of white brick appears, then disappears. “We tried so many times. Nothing can penetrate it.” He stops. His voice is cold and dark. “Who, who were they?” I dare to ask. “My best friend, and my sister,” he says. A tear runs down his face. “They were tortured and killed. I was forced to watch them, in pain, until the life went out of their eyes.” Another tear runs down, and hits his birthmark. On the place where the tear falls, flashes of light appear. I feel as if I am being encased in ice. “And I could do nothing about it. Of course, I was given nothing so generous as death. I was too useful to them. That’s the only reason I’m alive. The only reason I’m still in pain.” We just sit there for a moment, him probably having flashbacks, me shivering in the corner. After a few minutes, Miranda wakes up. Clarence brushes himself off and smiles. “Had a good nap?” He asks. “A really good one, actually,” Miranda says, not succeeding at trying to sound angry. “So you already woke up?” Miranda asks me.
