My body moved in perfect sync with the rhythmless flow, a silent yet hypnotic melody pulling me forward.

Blinding lights swept over me like a gaze too bright to hide from, trapping me in their unwanted glow, illuminating every inch as if exposing something I didn't know I was hiding.

Then... cold hands.

They wrapped around my waist, not comforting, not cruel, but dangerous. I could feel it in the way their brittle chill kissed my skin, sending an unnatural heat straight to my core.

He spun me gracefully, deliberately.

A dance with death, I thought.

My body tensed, instinctively trying to break free. But my mind whispered something else, something traitorous. Part of me wanted to stay.

As if under someone else's control, I surrendered.

Peace found me at that moment absurd and terrifying. The music swelled, no longer soft, it pulsed now, warning me. A graceful tune shifting into a siren's cry.

Then.... silence.

I stumbled forward, suddenly pulled closer to the one who held me. My gaze rose slowly, meeting black strands that fell over golden-brown eyes. Eyes that didn't smile. They burned instead with something unreadable. Beautiful and menacing.

The world around us shifted, like a stage melting into shadow.

A crooked smirk twisted his lips. It wasn't playful.

It was planned.

It was wrong.

The darkness thickened, sharpening his features, making the space around us feel smaller. He leaned in slowly, his face tilting toward mine, lips barely inches away.

My breath caught.

My eyes closed on instinct, expecting a kiss.

But it never came.

A beat passed.

Then...

Nothing.

The warmth vanished.

I opened my eyes...

Only darkness.

He was gone.

Completely.

A sound followed, tiny, high-pitched, relentless.

Like a thousand wasps swarming.

Buzzing.

Louder.

Louder.

Until the silence became a scream.

...
..
.

My eyes flew open.

My breath caught, nearly choking me as I broke into a coughing fit. I was awake now, wide awake. It was a dream I'd never had before, and yet I could still feel the strange pang in my young heart.

Fairly, I was scared.

"Eliza, get up!" my little sister's voice banged through the door. "If you don't hurry, you're gonna be late!" she huffed, clearly frustrated.

Oh shit.

Like a switch flipping, the memory of the time slapped me in the face. I shot out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, doing my business fast. I threw on a pair of washed-out blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt with the word Love printed across the chest.

I bolted through the door, not caring how I looked at this point. "Hi, Mom! Love you, Mom!" I shouted, spotting her in the kitchen. I kissed her cheek in a flash and darted for the front door. Dad had already left for work, so I didn't bother asking.

"Be careful with that rush you're in," she called out, laughing at her own words. "You might hurt something!"

I turned around and gave her a quick wave but the moment I spun back, bam, I tripped over a rock. My mom gasped behind me.

"I'm fine, Mom!" I called back, brushing myself off and acting as natural as possible.

I heard her giggle at my failed attempt to be cool.

At the bus stop, a few of the usual kids were already there, chatting about what they were planning to do over summer break. I didn't join in. I just waited silently, slipping in my earphones and letting the music drown out the world.

Ciara's voice came through loud and clear, and I started moving my feet slightly to the rhythm, keeping it subtle.

A few seconds later, the bus rolled up.

I was buzzing with excitement.

It wasn't just the last day of school; it was also the day RWN Dance Camp started.

I know it sounds silly to be this hyped over a camp, but I've wanted to go since I was a kid. And now that I finally got in, there's no way I'm wasting this opportunity.

I stepped off the bus and made my way through the school doors when...

"Eli!"

My best friend's voice cut through the noise. She was just as excited about camp as I was. We both shared the same love for dance, being a sophomore, 16 and all that jazz.

"Yeah?" I answered as she ran up to me, pulling me into a tight hug. Her ginger-red hair was doing its own thing, completely wild and untamed.

"Where's Sasha?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Ha-ha, very funny," she laughed, satisfied with herself. I followed up with a mock grin.

"It's been a rough morning, okay," she whispered, dragging her hand through her frizzy curls, trying to tame them into place.

_____________________________________

"Who would've thought? School's out tomorrow," Shasha huffed dramatically. "Finally!" She threw her hands up as if to worship the sky, and the laughter I'd been holding in burst out.

We were in class, waiting for the teacher who was clearly in no rush to show up. Honestly, if she didn't come at all, I wouldn't mind. The class was split in two, as always. The popular kids on one side, the "unpopular" on the other. The teachers claimed it was some kind of "bonding experience." I didn't see it.

"Make this day end already," Shasha groaned, her voice loud enough to pull attention from exactly the people we didn't want it from.

"Hey, dweeb. Shut it."
That voice.

The moment she lowered her head, I knew it was aimed at her. I turned, already annoyed. Of course, it was him.

"You got a problem with that, El-loser?" Aston McGill sneered.

I didn't back down. I stared him dead in the face.

"Are you supposed to be funny?" I said. The class instantly quieted. Shasha squeezed my hand, telling me silently to stop.

"Because that joke died the second you said it," I finished.

The room erupted in a chorus of "Oooooh!"

Shasha's grip tightened like she was begging me not to push it further. I swallowed down the rest of my words and held his glare.

I could tell I was pissing him off, his eyes sharpened with fury. But before he could respond, the door swung open, and our teacher shuffled in, looking like she barely survived her own morning.

Aston still glared at me like I'd done something unforgivable, but I forced myself to focus on the lesson. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I saw him typing on his phone, that smug little smirk stretching across his face.

I inhaled sharply. I didn't like the look of that at all.

I moved through 8th and 9th grade without the disturbance of the McGills...well, without Jayvin, at least.

He'd been charged with gun possession and drug-related offenses shortly after dropping out of high school. He went to jail. And as terrifying as those glares he used to give me were... it was even scarier knowing he was now a full-blown criminal.

His brother, Aston, practically thrived on the infamy. He used Jayvin's reputation like a weapon, taunting and threatening students who dared to stand up to him. And no one wanted to test if he was bluffing.

"El... you shouldn't have done that," Shasha said quietly, her voice full of worry.

I didn't say anything. She knew I agreed.

"I heard..." she leaned in "...Jayvin got out on bail."

She didn't have to say more. The chill that crawled up my spine told me everything I needed to know.

______________________________________

Hours passed. The bell rang, releasing us into the world. Shasha and I were the last to leave, walking side by side.

"Hey girls," our teacher called. "Good luck out there. Make me proud."

We nodded, smiling a little. Summer had finally come. And with it, our dance camp dream.

I didn't even know I loved dancing until that one dance tape. After that, it was non-stop my parents enrolling me in every class they could find. I smiled, lost in the memory.

"...Did you hear me, Eli?" Shasha said, waving her hands in front of my face.

I shook my head. She sighed, obviously frustrated.

"I said, make sure your lazy ass is up early!" she snapped, eyes serious. No jokes this time. Camp meant everything to her.

Suddenly, Shasha stopped walking.

"Shas, wha...." I began, but she turned me around before I could finish.

And there he was.

Jayvin McGill. With his gang. And Aston, smug as ever, right beside him.

He looked dangerous.

Tattoos lined his arms, dark ink crawling all the way down to his knuckles, some messy, some detailed, all looking like they had stories no one wanted to hear. His shirt was rolled up just enough to show off a coiled serpent near his elbow, its tail disappearing beneath the sleeve of his leather jacket. His jaw was sharper than I remembered, lips curled into that same twisted grin.

His eyes? Still light brown. Still golden in certain light. Still soulless.

A chain dangled from his neck, clinking with every step he took. His jeans were torn just at the knees, boots scuffed and heavy against the pavement, each step slow, like he wanted us to hear him coming.

Jayvin McGill didn't look like a high school dropout anymore.

He looked like something worse.

I swallowed hard. The tension in the air made my stomach turn.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" Jayvin drawled, his voice taunting, mocking, dangerous.

We said nothing as he walked closer, every step making the street feel smaller, darker.

"My, aren't you a sight," he said, his eyes flashing something unspoken but cruel. I suddenly remembered every reason I hated school, all of them tied to this one face.

He grinned, but it wasn't friendly. It was the kind of grin that wanted to erase you.

"Now, my brother here," he said, nodding at Aston. I kept my eyes on Jayvin, but I could still see that familiar smirk on Aston's face.

"Says one of you girls got out of line," Jayvin continued, his tone still playful but his eyes anything but.

His gaze landed on me, then drifted to Shasha. She fidgeted nervously. The streets were eerily empty. No one around. That only made my heart race more.

Being surrounded by a group of guys, with no one in sight, didn't sit right.

"So," Jayvin said. "Which one of you was it?"

We stayed silent.

Not a word.

His mood soured. He ran a hand through his dark hair, visibly irritated. "Who the fuck was it?" he growled.

Shasha flinched, tears threatening.

And I knew....it was my fault.

My big mouth.

I stepped forward.

"No..." Shasha whispered, voice breaking.

But I didn't stop. I stepped closer.

Jayvin's eyes lit up with amusement, but beneath it, something darker lingered.

"Don't you think my brother deserves an apology?" he said, stepping into my space. His smirk vanished, his demeanor shifting.

I stayed rooted. Confused. Unsure where this was going.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hair and yanked me down hard, bringing me to my knees.

Pain flared through my scalp.

"Kiss his shoes," he ordered, shoving my head down.

In front of me stood a pair of white Nikes with red layers. The logo practically mocked me.

I heard Shasha gasp. Her fists clenched, but she didn't move.

"What are you waiting for, bitch?" Jayvin snapped, voice like poison.

I'd heard the stories. Everyone had. What he did to students. The times he'd been sent to juvie. 

I held my breath, pride burning in my throat. I leaned forward close enough to make them think I was going to do it.

Then I spit.

A nasty, full spit that slapped across the shoe.

In a blink, Aston's shoe connected with my face.

"Fucking bitch," he shouted. "I'ma make you regret that!"

Pain exploded across my cheek. My vision blurred. Blood rushed from my nose, hot and blinding.

Jayvin pulled my hair harder, throwing me to the ground.

Shasha lunged toward me.

I saw it before she did, Jayvin's hand slicing through the air like a whip.

Slap.

She hit the ground hard, her sob echoing through the empty street.

I scrambled forward, dragging my limbs through the ache, rage and panic twisting in my chest. I pushed up, my hands slipping in the blood dripping from my nose.

"Don't you touch her!" I shouted, voice cracked but defiant.

Jayvin turned to me, eyes narrowed, lips curling.

"You still got that mouth, huh?" His voice dropped low, dangerously calm. "Guess I didn't knock enough sense into you."

He stalked toward me.

But the sound cut through everything the roar of an engine growing closer.

HOOOONK!

I turned toward the blinding headlights too fast, too close.

Someone screamed maybe it was Shasha, maybe it was me.

Then...

Pain, sharp and instant, ripped through my side as my body lifted from the ground like a ragdoll.

Everything was a blur lights, sky, pavement until I crashed down, landing hard. My head struck concrete. Air tore from my lungs. Sound muted. Then...

Footsteps. Screams. Tires skidding.

Jayvin's voice shouting something, but it was far, like underwater.

And then,

Silence.

Darkness folded in, swallowing everything.

___________________________

I could hear the blaring sirens and loud voices through what felt like deaf ears. Sobbing and frantic shouting reached me, muffled and distant, through the blinding light.

"She's hurt pretty badly."

"Put pressure.....she's losing too much blood!"

"We can't lose her!"

"No! That's my baby!"

"Nooo....!"

One by one, the voices faded.

To nothing.

.....

...

..

.

The beeping of machines echoed faintly in the room. My mind was a jigsaw of confusion, pieces scattered and blurry.

Pain shot through my skull as I tried to open my eyes. I winced. Lifting my hand to touch my forehead failed....the limb too heavy, too bound.

That's when I felt it.

A warm grip.

My hand was locked in someone else's, holding me like they'd never let go.

My eyes adjusted slowly. A blur of red fluttered in my vision—ginger hair flying as a girl ran out the door, her movement frantic, excited.

My thoughts tangled.

Who...?

I sat in silence, blank, trying to recall how I'd gotten here.

Half an hour later, the room was filled with people.

"Honey, you're awake!"

A woman. Her voice cracked with sobs. She rushed to my side, a man close behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. His expression mirrored hers sad, relieved, raw.

A small girl launched herself at me, hugging my stomach. I blinked in surprise and awkwardly patted her head.

Then I saw her.

The girl with the ginger-red hair.

She stood there crying, eyes rimmed red, shoulders trembling.

Shasha.

The name clicked into place like a final puzzle piece.

Everyone wore the same expression: disbelief laced with heartbreak.

Except one.

A man in a white coat stood silently at the foot of my bed, scribbling in a chart. A doctor. When our eyes met, he offered a gentle smile, then finally spoke.

"How are you feeling, Miss Bolton? You've been unconscious for two months."

His voice was calm, professional, but there was no warmth in it.

I blinked. Confused.

"I... I've got a bit of a headache," I said. "But... I think I'm okay?"

He nodded, jotting down notes.

"May I ask why I'm here?" I added, feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

He stepped closer, sighing quietly.

"Just as I thought," he muttered under his breath, scribbling again.

"Miss Bolton, you were in a serious accident. From what your friend told us, it may have been an attempted murder."

That word.

Murder.

I caught the tension ripple across my father's face. His fists clenched at his sides. My mother gently placed a hand on his arm, whispering something low to calm him.

"You also have a mild case of amnesia," the doctor continued, softening his voice. "It might last a few months... or longer. And your right leg is broken."

I blinked slowly, the weight of it all settling like sand in water.

"Who... did this?" I asked, my own voice foreign to me.

The doctor hesitated. The man hovering over me didn't.

"The driver got off with minor charges. But the real one who did this to you? He was sent to prison a week after you were hospitalized," he said, bitterness dripping off every word. "The bastard got seven years. Should've been more."

The woman led him out of the room before he lost his temper.

One by one, the others followed. Nurses came with medications, which made my head spin and my mind foggy.

Then...

"Eli, I'm so sorry..."

Shasha.

Her voice cracked as she came to my side, her pale skin blotched red from crying.

I reached out weakly, squeezing her hand, trying to comfort her. Even if I couldn't remember why, something about her pain hurt me.

"I caused this...," she choked. "I know it's my fault."

"It's okay," I whispered, unsure if I believed it, unsure of anything.

She sobbed harder, burying her face against my arm.

I held her for what felt like hours, until her crying slowed.

"Eli... even if you don't remember, its okay I will help you remember" she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. 

That name did not feel like my own, but she left it settled.

The words flickered faintly in my mind like a far-off light. The word our felt like an anchor, pulling something deep to the surface.

She curled beside me, gently resting her head on my leg like it was a pillow. Like it was routine.

"What's the name of the people that was just here?" I asked quietly.

The question lingered in the air like smoke.

I saw her flinch, but she smiled again, tears returning to her eyes.

Memories drifted somewhere in the fog of my mind, too far to grasp.

For now, it felt like a dream I had once, long ago.