Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(51)

Zen and I lie together on the small patch of grass that makes up my front lawn. I’m on my back and he’s pressed up against my side, his arm draped over my stomach. The sunlight warming our faces.

The air is quiet. We’re alone.

It’s my favourite place to be.

Alone. With him.

But I know it won’t last for long. It never does.

‘What if they erase you again?’ I ask. My voice trembles with fear.

I know the truth. About how they’ve been the ones choosing what I remember. And what I forget.

It terrifies me.

And I don’t know what to do next.

Zen shifts beside me and props himself up on his elbow. I can see my own eyes reflected in his. Like two mirrors bouncing light off each other for eternity.

‘They haven’t been able to completely erase me yet.’

‘But they’ve tried,’ I point out. ‘What if they try again? What if the next time they succeed?’

‘We’ll just have to come up with a sign,’ he suggests, flashing me that playful, lopsided grin I’ve come to love so much.

‘What kind of sign?’

‘Something that they can’t take away.’

I feel the tears stinging my eyes. The truth kills me a little more every minute. ‘But they can take anything away,’ I cry. ‘Anything they want. Whenever they want.’

But Zen simply smiles, shakes his head, and reaches out to touch my cheek with the back of his hand. ‘They can’t take everything.’ One tear manages to break free from my eye and he catches it on the tip of his finger. ‘They can’t take away a feeling. They can’t take this.’

Then he presses two fingers to my forehead. I close my eyes and absorb the heat from his skin, letting it sink in. Deep in. Past my mind. Past my overactive, calculating brain. Past my subconscious. Into the place where moments like this live.

Forever.

He leans forward and replaces his fingertips with his lips. The switch is so fluid I never feel the break. The heat never cools.

Then his lips move to meet mine. I anticipate them. I crave them. Our mouths meld together. Our two separate breaths become one inhale and one exhale. I lose myself. I lose time.

When he pulls away, he locks on to my eyes again. ‘Now,’ he tells me, gently stroking my hair, ‘whenever I touch your forehead you’ll remember this moment. Or at the very least, you’ll remember that there once was a moment. And that it was perfect.’

A peaceful aura settles around me. It blocks out every noise. Every sensation. Except the feeling of Zen’s touch. I burrow deeper under the blanket and reach up to clasp his hand in mine. I pull it down and tuck it between my arms, close to my heart, squeezing it tightly to my chest.

‘Do you remember?’ he asks, leaning in and pressing his lips to my cheek.

‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Always yes.’





PART 3


THE SURRENDER





29


AIR


I’m on a beach. I watch three faceless figures play in the water. Swimming further and further away. They call to me.

‘Sera! Come on!’

But I don’t go to them. Despite the fact that they are my best friends.

I just watch as they get smaller and smaller.

A giant wave crashes down, sucking all three of them into its powerful undertow. One of them manages to surface and scream. But her voice is quickly snubbed out by the sound of water. She struggles against the current but it’s merciless. Whipping her this way and that. Never letting up. Never surrendering.

She is no match. And I watch her go down again.

I jump to my feet and run towards the water, bracing myself against the cold as another large wave buries my feet. I dive headfirst under the next one, the horizon disappearing in a flash of blue.

I am submerged now. Paddling hard. Frantically.

I open my eyes.

I can see everything clearly. The seaweed. The coral blowing in an underwater breeze. A small school of sand-coloured fish.

Their perfect harmonious formation breaks and they scatter as I swim through them, searching for my friends.

I can still hear their screams.

Even down here.

My hair swirls around my head, blocking my view. I push it back and search harder. They have to be here somewhere!

But they are nowhere. Vanished. Swallowed by the ocean.

I see light above me. It’s an unusual colour. Not yellow like the sun. But fluorescent white.

I swim towards it, feeling my lungs slowly contracting.

I need to breathe.

My arm reaches up to break the surface. I anticipate the feeling of the warm beach air. But it never comes.

My hand smashes against something hard. A smooth, solid surface. A glass ceiling. Holding me captive under the water.

I flatten my palm and press upward but it doesn’t budge. I feel around for an edge. An opening.

There is none.

I glance up and see my own terrified reflection.

I press harder, banging with my fist but I hear only the hollow echo of my efforts reverberated back through the salty water.

I need to breathe!

Then suddenly through the thick sheet of glass, I see someone. Walking above the surface. I bang again, hoping to capture his attention.

He leans over and peers down at me. I see his eyes. They are cold. Ruthless. They send an explosion of tingles down my already tingling body.