“Oh,” I mumble stupidly. I have no other response, so I change the subject. “Are you tired?” My feet stopped hurting from the long walk years ago, but to Emery his must being dying.

“No,” he squints towards the setting sun, and then looks back towards the invading storm clouds. The wind picks up, throwing his black hair around his pale face. “I’m used to walking long distances.” I nod, knowing his words made sense. How else would he have ended up in my barn?

“Looks like a storms coming, we better hurry.” I pick up speed, walking three times as fast as I usually would. It was almost a light jog, but not quite.

Emery falls into pace beside me, and shoves his cigarettes into his jean pocket along with his blue lighter.

“Don’t like the rain?” Emery asks, and he actually seems mildly interested. I shake my head no, and push away the thoughts about us not making it home before the storm hits. My breathing becomes quick and the anxiety I always feel at this time starts to whirl inside of me.

“Storms out here are usually really bad,” as if to back me up, thunder starts to boom a distance away. “Let’s hurry up.” I start running lightly, and Emery doesn’t hesitate to match my pace. I can’t control the nervous feeling that starts in my head and ignites everything all the way down to my toes. I had to make it home before we were immersed in the storm. I had to.

“What do you want to know about me?” His question surprises me as lightning flashes across the sky. The wind is getting stronger, and the storm clouds will reach us in a few minutes. I try to count how many seconds there are between the lightning and thunder, but it’s hard for my brain to concentrate.

“Why are you being nice to me all of the sudden?” I ask, trying to focus on something other than the storm. Lightning flashes, illuminating the dark grey sky. I count to five, and grind my teeth together. That’s too close. We won’t make it home in time.

“I thought about how were going to be spending time together,” Emery takes a deep breath. I quickened my pace without realizing it, and we were running pretty fast. “So we might as well be nice to each other.” As much as I want to believe him, I know he’s lying. For the first time, I can see right through his façade. He knows I’m freaking out on the inside, and for some strange reason, instead of making fun of me, he’s being nice.

“What was your life like before I found you in my barn?” It’s a pretty obvious question that’s going to get an angry answer, but I figure that this time was my best to ask it. I watch the lightning, and count to four.

“None of your business,” Emery tries his best not to sound mean. “Try another question.”

“Well,” I mumble as I squint in the distance. I’m trying to see my house, but so far, I don’t have much luck. “Don’t you have people who miss you from wherever you came from? Friends, family, parents?”

I count to three, as flashes across the dark sky become closer. Light rain starts to hit my face, and I try my best not to cry. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t seriously be out here in the middle of a storm, could I?

“My parents are dead.” His words catch me off guard, and I instantly regret my words. I should have known that something bad like that had happened. Why else would he be living with strangers, and not his own family?

“I’m so sorry I-“

“Just cut the sympathy shit,” he snaps, and loud thunder booms around us. I count the seconds when the next lightning strike hits, but it doesn’t matter. The storm is already all around us, blackening the sky with blinding flashes.

Suddenly, to our right, a loud, ear piercing strike of lightning hits the ground in an empty field. I look in front of me, searching for my house. Where could Dad be? He wouldn’t leave me out here in a storm. He had to be on his way, right?

“Oh god,” I sob, as I try to get air into my lungs. My feet give out and I fall onto my knees, landing on the soaked dirt. I put my head in my hands and try to imagine being in a happy place. This couldn’t be happening. I try to ignore the thunder, the cold rain, and everything around me. I’m doing a horrible job when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“River!” Emery yells over the sound of thunder and heavy rain hitting the ground. “What’s wrong? We have to keep moving!” Wind whips my long hair around me, but I don’t look up. I can’t. If I look up, this will all be real. “River!”

Strong hands rip my fingertips from my face, and pull me to my feet. Unstable, I collapse into Emery’s soak and wet chest, sobbing. I was going to die, just like Ocean.

“River, what’s wrong? We have to go!” He pulls away from me, still holding my hands, but I start to fall back onto the ground. I look up at Emery, who has an expression I’ve never seen before on his face. Either I’m too blind from my tears and the rain drops, or he actually looks concerned. “Shit,” he mumbles, looking around as if there was some answer just waiting for us to see it.

In one swift move, Emery scoops me up in his arms and starts running towards home. I have no choice but to comply, as I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on every bounce Emery’s step makes. Thunder will boom, or lightning will strike, and every time I scream. When the sound escapes my lips, Emery grips me tighter, and strangely, it’s slightly comforting. At least, until the next time I scream.

“River! Look!” Emery shouts over the wind that blows our words away from our ears. I peek out from between my fingers, and see the two strange beams of light. At first, I’m confused, but soon I realize what it is. It’s a truck, but not just any truck. It’s my dad’s.

When the lights fall on our figures, it does a three point turn until it’s facing towards home. Dad honks the horn twice, telling us to hurry up. Instead of Emery putting me down so I can run myself, which I probably couldn’t anyways, he sprints towards the vehicle that’s my saviour.

After throwing open the door, he gently rests me in the middle seat, but I can’t stop bawling or screaming. I’m doing my best to push the awful memory away, but it’s getting harder with every flash across the sky.
Once Emery is buckled in, my dad wastes no time stepping on the gas. We speed down the road, and I cover my mouth to try to contain my shrieking.

“What’s wrong with her?” Emery asks, talking very loud. Even within the truck, it’s hard to hear. I know Dad’s going to tell him, even though I’m right here. He think’s I’ll get over it if I can just accept it by hearing it more often. But he’s wrong. I have accepted it, but it doesn’t mean I’ll get over it, nor will I be okay.

“River had a twin sister,” Dad shouts, driving towards the safety of home. He yells over my screaming, as the memory comes flooding back. “She is the only one who saw her die.”