being, chapter one, page two

being . chapter one . page two . mechelle morrison

If you haven't read page one, go back one post and you will find it.  If you have read it, thank you!  And enjoy page two.  Being has finished its final edit (and since the book has taken ten years to write, you can imagine the edits are almost countless.)  Next week, the cover, the galley copy and then one more edit until it's published.  Look for it to launch on June 13th on Goodreads.  I love that community!

chapter  one page two

A girl says, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

I jerk awake, sweating.

I wake up when she talks.  Always.  But this time it’s hard to breathe, like I’ve forgotten how to process air.  This time my heart throbs like pistons in my chest.  I stare into the darkness of my room, rationalizing my fear like I always do, and a raindrop—a real, wet raindrop—splatters onto my forehead.  I touch the water dribbling toward my ear.  Taste it, cold and metallic, on my finger.  Another drop hits my cheek.

“So . . . what is this place?”

I twist toward her voice and my vision swirls, black to gray.  But I can’t see the girl.  I can’t see anything.  Panic surges into every cell of my body.  “Who’s there?”  My voice cracks.

“It’s me, Shepherd.  Duh.  It’s Elly.”

“Elly?”  Another raindrop hits me, then another.  My nightmare has never been this crazy.  It’s never been this real.  And my kid sister has never, not once, been in it.

Footsteps, then Elly drops onto me.  She smells like I remember her, baby-clean, sweet.  My vision suddenly pops with pricks of light.  I breathe—in, out, in.  This doesn’t happen in my dream.

“Sorry,” Elly says.  “You know where we are, right?”

I reach out, find her shoulder, and pinch.

She punches my arm.  “Dork!”  Pain spreads into my muscle, wrapping my bone like ivy does a tree.  Her weight rolls off my legs.

But I can’t see her.  I still can’t see me.  I reach out again.  She slaps my hand.  “Knock it off.”