Chapter Text
I have this dream pretty frequently. It starts with my mother, her face covered in soot and ash, her perfect blonde hair one of the many markers to her beauty.
My brother, Luke, is crying, reaching for her. But she's on the other side of this glass door, crying too. The man who I assumes is my father is standing beside my mother, holding her, whispering pitiful words of comfort that don't actually matter.
It feels like the world is being ripped from beneath my feet. I want to go back inside. I want to face whatever danger is out there. I want to help.
That's when I always feel the cold grip touch me on the shoulder and I scream at the top of my lungs. My younger sister, Andromeda, cries in agony from a cut she'd gotten on her arm. She's not even three yet; it's understandable.
My mind feels like it was about to explode into a millions tiny pieces and scatter around. I want to be some kind of a hero, to insist that things didn't have to end like this. I try to look into my mother's eyes, to tell her we need to stay together or... things will be bad.
That's when I wake up to my now fourteen-year-old brother trying to shake me and Andry awake. "Get up, guys!" he yelped. "It's getting late!"
My brother looks like our father. He has dark, messy black hair that makes him look like he's just crawled out of bed. His eyes are green, like the sea. He looks remarkably like our dad, which barely makes sense. We don't even know their names; only small glimpses of what they look like. Luke is a total troublemaker, though, which I'm not sure Dad was. He's like our ringleader. But not the brains.
Nope. Not at all. That's me. I'm the nerd. I like architecture and all that, sort of like my mother. I remember seeing her around books with architectural designs and blueprints. That might be why I like it so much. It's something to remember her by. But, my ambition in life isn't to become an architect. It's to be a marine biologist. I love science, and I have a special connection to all-things oceanic. It makes me happy.
Andry, at ten years old, doesn't look at all like our parents besides one feature. Her eyes change colors like a mood ring, switching from gray to green. If she's angry, or thinking hard in school, they become misty gray. If she's happy or excited, they she gets green eyes.
I don't see the green side of her eyes too often, sadly. She doesn't exactly have an easy life, though. She has dyslexia and ADHD. Call it a weird family-thing, but Luke has dyslexia too, while I have ADHD. Not that it's easier for me, but I know for a fact that I would die from sadness if I couldn't read clearly.
Andry's hair was brunette with natural blonde streaks. She had red dyed in, though, because she's a... bit of a rebellious character. She was convinced that Luke and I hated her. She had asked Luke to get a clip-in feather in her hair, but he had refused. To make a point, she snuck off in the middle of the night with twenty bucks and came back with red hair. Some of it still hadn't worn out.
The thing that most depresses me about my little sister is her tendency to lie. She has this way to make herself feel like she's doing something wrong even when she isn't, and she tells people something different from the truth.
"Getting up is so boring," Andry barked bitterly. She crossed her arms, grabbed her Ugg boots, and pushed them onto her feet. "It's BORING. I mean it!" she yelled when we looked at her strangely. "I'm way too tired."
"Exhausting," I corrected her. "I think you mean 'it's exhausting.' It's a way to express how tired you are. Boring is--"
"I KNOW what 'boring' means!" she shouted. "I'm not an idiot, Bella!"
That's me. Bella. Well, technically it's Annabella. I just prefer the nickname, like my sister prefer Andry over Andromeda. She says the name is too 'regal' for her, which I totally agree with. She's a simple girl, and I have no idea how she was the one who ended up with the overly-complicated name.
"Sorry," I told her politely. I rubbed my hands together for friction and then looked around the dark, cold alley. "How come we're up this early? It's not even light out, Luke. We picked a good place to rest. Why the hurry?"
Oh, did I forget to mention that my siblings and I are on the run? Oops. My bad.
Luke sighed. "I think I heard cop cars somewhere--"
"It's New York City," Andry snapped. "There are cop cars everywhere, you idiot!"
Luke looked at me. As usual, he ignored Andry's attitude. "Ideas, Bella?"
I gnawed at me lip, staring at a puddle on the ground from the rain. My mind went in circles, going through the possibilities. Finally, I made a decision.
"Our best bet," I said. "Is to wait here."
"You sure?" he asked.
I nodded. "New York isn't nearly as crowded this early as it usually is. We can find a couple, or something, and tag along. No one would suspect a family, would they?"
Andry scoffed. "Some FAMILY we'd be," she grumbled.
"Hey!" Luke shouted, glaring at her. "Tone down the attitude, Andromeda!"
Luke was the one who reinforced the rules, too. He only called Andry by her real name when he was getting really mad. And Luke rarely got that mad at anybody, especially not Andry.
Andry's face reddened and she looked down sheepishly. "Whatever," she mumbled bitterly.
Luke made a face, obviously feeling like he should apologize automatically for being tough on her. I knew for a fact that he thought Andry was so snappy because we were the ones who remembered our parents. Andry had been almost three, not even, when they abandoned us. She didn't know what they looked like, their names, and not even the sounds of their voices. Even Luke and I had the luxury of seeing them in dreams, and hearing the voices they spoke with. Even if we were oblivious to who they were, too.
It makes me feel bad to admit it, but... I really don't think that excuses her to be allowed to act like a brat sometimes. I get mad at Luke for his soft heart, but I know he's only like that because he loves Andry too much. Maybe even more than Andry loves the two of them combined.
"Can I go back to sleep?" Andry snapped.
"Three hours," I promised her. "Go knock yourself out."
She nodded. "Right." She shifted against the alley wall and finally shut her eyes. As soon as she did, I stood and walked over to our brother.
"Sleep well?" I asked him, hoping to make conversation.
"You didn't."
I winced. Now, that was one conversation I did not want to have with him.
"Bella," Luke sighed. "Come on, you can tell me. It was just a nightmare, right? You can tell me."
I shook my head, the image of our parents still fresh in my mind. "No, Luke. I'm perfectly fine." I started to walk to the side of the alley. "Doesn't matter."
But Luke wasn't finished yet. "You were dreaming about Mom and Dad," he guessed. "Weren't you?"
I turned around to face him. "So what if I was?" I demanded hastily.
"Now you sound like Andry," he replied, obviously distressed. I rolled my eyes. "Bella, you--"
"I'm fine, Luke," I insisted. I walked back over to Andry. "I am perfectly fine and I can take care of myself. I don't need you to baby me like that. I... I can handle a nightmare, okay?"
Luke frowned. "Bella..."
I shrugged, knowing that he had good intentions. "It's okay. Look, I'm going to sleep for, like, an hour. Wake me up, okay?"
He nodded. "Sure, but..."
"Good night," I said. I went back to the wall near Andry and I leaned back, shutting my eyes and trying to forget. But the more I tried to forget it, the clearer I saw the image of my parents. My parents, the two people who I barely knew.