Page 2 of Heavensent & Hellbent

Their bodies wrapped around mylimbs, scales slithering across my bare skin. Their movements made me jerk—in my mind. In reality, my body didn’t even shiver. There was a disconnect between what I told my body to do and what it actually did. The snakes scraped against me, and it was futile to resist. Their hissing sharp. My heart finally reacted, pulse quickening as my palms became slick with sweat.

I was paralyzed, stuck in a dangerous space between wake and sleep.

I could see my new bedroom and the sunlight that leaked through the crack in the curtains. But I couldn’t move. A familiar panic rose in my throat. I coaxed myself to stay calm. This was not the first, second, or third time this had happened, and it likely would not be the last.

My eyes swept across the room. It—he—whatever thishallucination was, stood blocking the door. He wore all black, a cloak shielding his face. I tried to remind myself that this was all in my head, that this was part of sleep paralysis. But calming myself was easier said than done.

I always dreaded what came next.

Plunged into darkness again, I was lured into sleep before being taken into another time. The moon shone high above me, casting an incandescent glow into the vast forest. That light, though, didn’t shine the brightest. No, there were flames all around me, the heat increasing with every passing second. The fire was catching quickly, impossibly so, growing closer to me. Through the flames, I saw the stoney faces of people watching on. They were neither pleased nor displeased, and despite my shrieks for help, their expressions were fixed. I knew this nightmare well, but that did not make it any less terrifying.

Flames flickered wildly, the scent of burning wood thick and heavy in the air. Perspiration ran underneath my armpits and on my forehead. It was hot. Too hot. My heart hammered, aching. I needed to get out of here, but it was impossible. I was tied up. Soon, the smoke would suffocate me, hopefully before I felt the flames burning my skin.

I knew exactly how this hellscape went.

Or at least I thought I did.

Turning my head to the left, though, for the first time I realized I was not alone at the stake. There was a boyaround my age there, too. As soon as I saw him, I sensed familiarity. I leaned forward, against the ropes that were tying me down, only managing to move an inch. He was looking away from me, off into the distance, at the crowd before us. Sharp, cutting cheekbones, his nose crooked, with dark eyes framed by long black lashes. It was his hair, though, that struck me. It was golden, like a halo. Even with the ropes chafing my skin and a blaze around me, I couldn’t help but acknowledge that he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. That he was the kind of boy that artists would paint and make sculptures of. The idea that his beauty would be lost brought on a new wave of sadness, of anger.

As though sensing my gaze, he turned to me. His large eyes devastated and almost pleading.

“I’m sorry,”he mouthed before the smoke made its way to our lungs, robbing us of our breath.

I woke—truly, this time—to find Ehsan’s round face next to mine, his wispy eyebrows furrowed.

“You were screaming. Was it the bad dreams again?” he asked.

I sat up in bed. My pajamas were damp from sweat.

“I’m fine,” I said, voice quivering, giving me away. I somehow managed a smile, though I’m sure it came out as more of a grimace.

Ehsan watched me and bit his bottom lip, like he didn’t believe me. I didn’t blame him; I was a terrible actress.

“I just had a nightmare,” I said. “A different one. Honestly, it’s fine, though. I’m sorry I woke you.”

It took a while to get him to leave, but when he did, I glanced down at my wrists. I remembered the snakes, and the way they twisted around me, forcing me to stay still. As I touched the inside of one wrist, it was tender, like a bruise was starting to form. Almost like my dream was real.

2

Three quick raps on my bedroom door stirred me awake. Though groggy, I understood that I had slept through the rest of the night. My door flung open, and through my bleary eyes, I saw the fuzzy silhouette of my short, stocky dad, light from the hallway shining behind his frame. “The neighbors are here. Get up.”

I don’t know why he bothered knocking if he was going to burst into my room anyway. We’d had this argument enough times back home that I had given up on it, though that didn’t stop me from letting out an irritated groan.

“What time is it?” I croaked.

“Ten a.m. I’m surprised you can even sleep that long; it’s not like you.” His voice was amused, though a bit judgmental, too, as he turned and went downstairs.

Hefting myself out of bed, I hop-footed it straight into theshower. It was only after washing in water that was a touch too hot, leaving my skin pink and alive, that I caught sight of my wrist. The bruising was pale, subtle like a splash of muddy watercolor. As I brushed my teeth, I noticed that my ankles, too, appeared to have been impressed upon. I spat toothpaste out of my mouth, using the back of my hand to wipe off any residue from my lips.

Before our doctor confirmed that sleep paralysis was a real thing that happened, Dad believed I was making it up, in a semi-understanding way. That as a middle child I wanted attention. He claimed he “got it”; his brother was like that growing up, too. I hated that stereotype. I often longed to be invisible, not to garner attention.

After moisturizing my face and changing, I moved down the stairs cautiously.

“It’s no botherat all,” a woman’s voice said, her American accent smoothly slurred. “This is a tight-knit neighborhood.”

With each step, the staircase groaned beneath me. When I eventually reached the kitchen, I noted a willowy blond woman holding a tray of cookies wrapped in cellophane. Her face was fixed in a smile, which broadened when she clocked me.

“You must be Roxana!” she said, putting the tray down onto the wooden dining table next to her and reaching out a hand for me to shake. We shook hands, mine limp, hers as enthusiastic as a lithium battery bunny. “I’m Penny.” Her teeth were milky white and straight.