Page 77 of A Silence So Divine

A shock scorches my nervous system, jolting me upright in bed. I feel like I’ve been electrocuted—my heart beats out of my chest, my senses on high alert. In the darkness, I scan the room. That voice… could it have been a dream? Rationale tells meyes, but I’m certain it was aloud.

My bare feet slap against the hardwood floor and I grab the gun beneath the mattress. As soon as the safety is switched off, I’m in the hallway. With silent steps, I check Creed’s room first. The longer I’m awake, the worse this panic sensation sinks in. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me, but I’m met with silence. Darkness.

On the chance that Creed and Eden are asleep, I inch the door open and peek in. The foreboding multiplies by a thousand. There, beside my slumbering brother, is an outline of where Eden would have been. The blankets are thrown back, and unless she’s hiding under the bed, she’s not in this room.

I take off like a bat out of hell.

“Eden!” My scream echoes around the corridors, my footfalls frantic as I search each room.

It hits me suddenly, and as sure as anything, IknowEden isn’t in the house. A tugging in my conscience tells me so, and without taking time to second guess myself, I’m damn near ripping the front door off its hinges.

The silence outside is somehow more deafening than that of the house. The familiar chirping of early spring insects are absent, giving the grounds a sense of vacancy. Even the wind is gone, leaving the air eerily stagnant. It’s like taking a photo of the nighttime and walking into it.

There’s a prickling at the back of my neck, a warning in the air. She’s out here.

There’s still a chill to the earth, and the bottoms of my feet bear the unpleasant bite. Inexplicably, my body trudges forward, my mind taking the passenger seat. I’m called further and further into the weeds.

The gun is solid in my hand, and I pulse my fingers around it repeatedly to quell my tremble. The bottoms of my pajama pants have grown damp from the dew, sticking to my ankles as I run through the underbrush. I continue towards the pond, my shirt snagging repeatedly on the thicket of weeds and briars. I cuss under my breath.

“Eden!” My voice serves as a boomerang. It spins out, and then slams right back into me.

Listening for anything proves futile, as I’m met with silence in every direction. But I’m close. I can feel it.

Moth to a flame, I see her. And I swear my racing heart stops completely.

There, along the edge of the pond, is Eden, trudging into the water, illuminated by the full moon. She’s waist deep, the white of her dress stained dark from the water. I break into a sprint.

The soles of my feet are in agonizing pain, and I don’t have to look to know that they’re bleeding. The adrenaline saves me—my entire body grows numb.

It’s mere seconds before I reach the edge of the water, stopping short. Desperately, I call out her name one more time.

Not so much as a backwards glance.

“Fuck,” I snarl, dropping my handgun into the mud beside my feet. Little footprints are indented into the embankment, and I grimace.

The water is egregiously cold.Unnaturallycold. The last few minutes have been nothing but unnatural.

I keep her in my line of sight, terrified that if I look away for a moment, she’ll disappear beneath the surface. My limbs feel twice as heavy as I submerge myself in the water.

She’s up to her shoulders now, and my stomach twists. Is she lucid? She can’t be. The idea that she would willingly do this is an agony worse than the sting of freezing waters. A thought crosses my mind, but I banish it quickly.

Eden may be lost, but she would never choose to opt out.

She wouldn’t do that to m– she wouldn’t do that toCreed.

Would she?

“I’m coming,” I rasp, reassuring myself more than anything. There’s a slight chatter to my teeth, and I have to clamp my mouth shut for it to cease.

Distantly, I make out muttering. Low and raspy from disuse, I recognize her voice, but not the words.

Her movements are quicker than mine, and I don’t feel like I’m getting any closer. In a fleeting attempt to speed up, I raise my legs and begin swimming in earnest. Tossing my head side to side, the water sluices over my face. My wounds are mostly healed now, my stitches removed, but the murky water can’t be doing me any favors. Wouldn’t it be just my luck if after all this, it’s an infection that takes me out?

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I search the pond.

“No!”

The top of her head disappears, leaving only ripples behind.