CHAPTER 4: THE SILENCE
2816 Words
Sera Winters
Rebellion doesn't always roar. Sometimes it refuses to make a sound at all.
I backed away from the mirror. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Gold eyes. My eyes had been gold.
Not hazel. Not brown. Gold. Like Daxen's. Like something not human.
I touched my face. My skin felt normal. Warm. Real. But I'd seen it. The flash of gold. The way they'd burned for just a second before going back.
You're not human. Not entirely.
Kieran's words echoed in my head.
I looked at the mirror again. My eyes stared back. Hazel. Normal. Boring.
But I knew what I'd seen.
I walked back to my room. Closed the door. Locked it even though I knew the lock didn't matter. They had keys. They had control. They had everything.
I sat on the bed and stared at my hands.
What was I?
I didn't sleep that night. Just lay there staring at the ceiling and listening to the house settle around me. Footsteps in the hall sometimes. Voices downstairs. The sound of doors opening and closing.
They were awake. Watching. Waiting for me to break.
I wasn't going to break.
When morning came, someone knocked on my door.
I didn't answer.
The knock came again. "Sera?" Kieran's voice. Soft. Gentle. "I brought breakfast."
I stayed silent.
"I'm leaving it outside the door. You should eat."
I heard him set something down. Heard his footsteps fade down the hall.
I didn't open the door.
Hours passed. The sun moved across my window. I sat on the bed and stared at the wall and said nothing.
Another knock. Afternoon this time.
"Sera." Caelan's voice. Flat. Emotionless. "There's food outside your door. It's getting cold."
Silence.
"You need to eat."
I didn't move.
He waited. I counted the seconds. Forty-three. Then his footsteps walked away.
I got up and went to the window. Pressed my hands against the glass and looked out at the forest. Trees everywhere. Thick and dark and endless. But there had to be a road somewhere. Had to be a way out.
I studied the landscape. Memorized the shapes of the trees. The way the shadows fell. Looking for patterns. Looking for paths.
Two stories down. Maybe twenty feet. The ground was dirt and dead leaves. If I landed right, maybe I wouldn't break anything.
Maybe.
By evening, the third knock came.
"Sera, please." Kieran again. Always Kieran. "You need to eat something. It's been all day."
I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and stared at the door.
"I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But starving yourself won't change anything."
I closed my eyes.
"Please. Just eat something."
His footsteps stayed there for a long time. Waiting. Hoping I'd answer.
I didn't.
Eventually he left.
When the house went quiet, I opened my door. Three trays of food sat in the hallway. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. All untouched. All cold now.
I looked at them. My stomach hurt. When was the last time I'd eaten? Yesterday morning? Before the phone call?
I closed the door.
Day two was worse.
My head felt light. Dizzy. My hands shook when I tried to stand. I spent most of the day lying on the bed staring at nothing.
Kieran came three times. Left food. Didn't push.
Caelan came once. Didn't even knock. Just said through the door, "You're being childish."
I smiled at that. Childish. Like I was throwing a tantrum. Like this was about pride.
It wasn't about pride.
It was about control.
The only control I had left.
That night I heard them arguing.
I was lying on the floor near the door. Trying to hear. Trying to understand.
"How long are we letting this continue?" Daxen's voice. Frustrated. Angry. "She hasn't eaten in two days."
"She will." Caelan. Calm as always.
"When? When she passes out?"
"If necessary."
"That's insane. We should just—"
"Just what?" Kieran cut in. "Force her? Hold her down and make her eat? That'll definitely make her trust us."
"I don't care about trust. I care about not dying."
"We have time."
"Do we?" Daxen's voice got louder. "Because from where I'm standing, we're running out fast. The curse isn't slowing down. Kieran had an episode yesterday. How long before—"
"Enough." Caelan's voice cut through. Cold and final. "We wait. She'll break eventually. They always do."
Silence.
Then Daxen, quieter now. "And if she doesn't?"
No answer.
Their footsteps faded. Doors closed.
I lay there on the floor and felt my stomach cramp with hunger and thought about breaking.
About giving up.
About eating the food they left and admitting I needed them.
I didn't move.
Day three, I couldn't stand up without the room spinning.
I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and focused on breathing. In and out. In and out.
Simple things felt hard now.
Kieran came at noon. I knew because the sun was directly overhead. Shining through my window. Too bright. Hurting my eyes.
"Sera." His voice was different today. Worried. "Please talk to me. Even if it's just to tell me you hate me. Just say something."
I stared at the door.
"You're going to make yourself sick. Is that what you want? To prove a point by destroying yourself?"
Yes, I thought. If that's what it takes.
"Caelan's losing patience. And Daxen—" He stopped. "Please. Just eat something. That's all I'm asking."
I closed my eyes.
He stayed there for ten minutes. I counted the seconds.
Then he left.
Afternoon faded to evening. The sun disappeared behind the trees. My room got dark. I didn't turn on the lights.
I just sat there in the shadows and thought about my mother. About Marcus. About my stepsister at college with her future and her plans.
About being the extra one.
The one nobody wanted.
The one they sold.
I thought about those things until my chest felt empty. Until I couldn't feel anything anymore.
That's when Caelan came.
He didn't knock. Just unlocked the door and walked in. Turned on the light.
I squinted against the brightness.
He looked at me. At my face. At the way I was sitting on the floor like I didn't have the strength to get up.
"Three days," he said. No emotion. Just observation. "Most people break at two."
I didn't answer.
He walked to the window. Looked out at the forest. "You're testing limits. Fine. But understand something, Sera. We have time. You don't."
I watched him. His broad shoulders. His straight back. The way he stood like nothing could touch him.
"You can starve yourself for a week if you want. We'll wait. But eventually you'll eat. Because eventually survival wins. It always does."
He turned to look at me.
"The only question is how much you want to suffer first."
He left. Closed the door. Locked it.
I sat there in the bright light and hated him.
Hated all of them.
Hated myself for being weak enough to be here.
When the house went quiet, I forced myself to stand.
My legs shook. My head spun. I had to grab the bedpost to keep from falling.
But I made it to the window.
I looked down. Two stories. Maybe twenty feet. The ground was dark but I could see it. Dirt and leaves and freedom.
Better broken legs than this.
Better anything than this.
I tried to open the window. It was stuck. Old paint sealed it shut.
I pushed harder. My arms felt like they had no strength. Like I was made of paper.
But I kept pushing.
The window cracked. Gave way. Opened.
Cold air rushed in. It smelled like pine and dirt and possibility.
I looked down again. It was far. Really far.
If I landed wrong, I could break my neck.
But if I stayed here, I'd break anyway. Just slower.
I climbed onto the ledge. My legs dangled out the window. The wind was stronger up here. It pulled at my hair. My clothes.
I looked at the forest. At the darkness between the trees.
Somewhere out there was a road. A town. People who could help.
I just had to get there.
I took a breath.
Let it out.
And stepped off the ledge.
For one second I was falling. Free. Weightless.
Then arms caught me from behind.
Strong arms that wrapped around my waist and pulled me back.
I screamed. Kicked. Tried to fight.
"Easy." Daxen's voice in my ear. Amused. Dangerous. "Finally. I was getting bored."
He pulled me back through the window. Set me on my feet. Kept his hands on my waist to hold me steady because my legs wouldn't work.
I shoved at him. "Let go."
"Not a chance."
I tried to twist away. He just held on tighter.
"You were on the roof," he said. He was smiling. That awful hungry smile. "Watching your window. Waiting to see if you'd actually do it."
"Let me go."
"Oh, sweetheart." He leaned closer. His gold eyes bright in the dark. "We're just getting started."
- Writer
