Halloween

Author's Note: At the end of this chapter, the main character, Claire, finds a book of poetry. The poem that she reads in the book is not a poem written by me. Instead, it is written by a fellow Vocal author, Melissa Ingoldsby. The poem, "Lost", is used with her express permission, though I have altered her name in the text of the novel. Her creativity deserves the honor of recognition. Thank you, Melissa!

Mother… The word haunted Claire every moment of her waking life. The dream in which she heard it waited for her to fall asleep. She had always wanted to be a mother, but she had come to grips with the fact that she may never have that privilege. She and Eric had spoken of it many times, but life had gotten in the way at every turn and never let them get to a place to look forward to it. Now, though, knowing that the alternate worlds existed, could there be a reality in which she was? Was the dream real? The idea of it tore her in two and filled her to overflowing with hope and fear.

When she had woken from the dream the day before and got sick in the bathroom, she made a point to not look into the mirror as she recovered. The dream was bad enough but seeing her others every time she looked into the mirror was maddening. In fact, after washing out her mouth in the kitchen sink, she immediately went to the bedroom to get blankets. One at a time, she held them up in front of her and covered the body length mirror in the bedroom, then the one in the bathroom. The reflection in the living room window was good enough to prep before going out.

Despite all that had happened on Sunday morning, she still found the willpower to go shopping for a Halloween costume that afternoon. To her dismay, all she found available was a corpse bride costume, and without the ability to use a mirror, she would have no chance to put makeup on. Of course, how many trick-or-treaters could she really expect? The world… worlds?... seem to be going to shit.

Claire spent Sunday night watching the news. It was something that she avoided before, but after the past two weeks, she needed to know what the status of the world was. She had memories of three different realities congealing in her mind, so she wanted to ground herself back into her reality. Politics was the one thing that she couldn’t stand in the least, even more than religion. But it was politics that was driving all of this. The rebellions that shutdown the valley had happened all over the country. ‘Freedom’ militias had gathered in deeply conservative areas and launched assaults on ‘blue’ areas. The southern states were still fighting, and the president had authorized federal troop attacks to subdue the rebels who had gained control of vast swaths of land. On their side, they had a large contingent of federal troops and politicians who had defected to their cause. Out west, things were still fairly normal as the uprisings were few and far between. It was the northeast, Claire’s home, where confusion was highest. The rural areas had seen large congregations of rebels that nearly sliced the region in half. The eastern metro area was nearly cutoff from the larger inland cities, and Washington DC had come within a hair’s breadth of being overrun. Thankfully, most of the rebels were being driven back and away from the cities. It appeared to her that the southern states would be the main focus of this new civil war, and as the nation’s might was now focused inward, things abroad were also getting worse. There was war in Europe, in the Pacific, and war was also brewing in South America.

The United States appeared to be on its last legs, and though Claire had some optimism about the immediate future, it seemed that Eric would be proven right, even in death. Many times, over the past few years, Eric had spoken about how politics would destroy the country. When they first got together, she remembered him setting 2050 as the year that the country would be lucky to make it to. Not too long ago, during the pandemic years and, undoubtedly, the years of the country’s worst president, he had amended his estimate to 2030. Through her rapidly encroaching sleep, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment, Claire shed a tear for her lost love.

Her final thoughts, as the news anchor shifted his reporting to the conflicts in Europe, were an internal debate about finding a new reality for herself that was better than this. Then the dream came, and it was tortuous to her. The shadow men were still calling to her, “Mother… Mother.” Claire could feel the eyes of her others behind her, the cacophony of their voices a decipherable white noise in her brain. Find us. Kill us. Help us. She thought she might go insane in the midst of the maelstrom and the voices. The shifting blue and pink from the bottom of the abyss reflected blindingly in her eyes. She couldn’t focus, she couldn’t stay calm. The dream was becoming too much. She looked up and asked God for deliverance.

Claire saw a soft white light piercing the clouds above her. From it she felt warmth and love, and she let it wash over her like water from a showerhead. As the light became too much for her eyes, she closed them against the gleam and sat on the ground, her legs crossed. She focused on the backlit darkness of her closed eyes and the noise became a low hum. Peace…

She fell asleep in her dream, and in the waking world her body went limp. Nothing could have disturbed her slumber, and in her dream she knew that this was the only solace she would find. Monday morning dawned warm and clear, the television volume not as loud as she remembered it from the night before. Traffic outside was constant, but not noisy. For the first time since all of this started, Claire felt rested. Within the hour, she had made the bed, took a shower, dressed comfortably, and sat at the table eating her oatmeal. I’m going to enjoy today, she thought, sipping her very hot cup of tea gently.

Indeed, nothing of consequence happened all that day, and her deliveries to the construction workers around town turned into rather joyous affairs as they discussed rebuilding, families, and where the nation might be heading. Her heart was light, and she basked in the bright sunshine of the day as she drove back and forth from the Valley to Harleysville. Even though her heart sank every time she thought of Eric, she knew that he’d be happy to see her going about her day with a smile. Claire even took her lunch break, which she extended by a half an hour, in Harleysville, making her way to the local pet shop to look at the cats. She missed Max dearly, and she craved the attention and loyalty of a pet. And now that she was alone, she could devote all of her time to the animal and forge that unbreakable bond that she revered.

Unfortunately, the store had no cats for adoption, and Claire was kindly told to stop by the next day, as they were expecting some to show up from other areas of the state. She thanked the associate and continued her uneventful day, and before she knew it, she was back at home, the sun gaining on the horizon. Surprisingly, even through the national emergency of a civil war, Hollywood still found a way to televise their gameshows. So, in remembrance of Eric, Claire sat back and watched Jeopardy!, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to answer many of the questions. She had decided on chicken pot pie for dinner, a day of comfort, she had thought, required comfort food. There was even some excitement in her as she lay down for the night. Tomorrow was Halloween, and the activity in the Valley had given her hope that there would be a fair number of kids out seeking candy. She promised herself to stop and buy some candy while she worked.

Halloween was even warmer than the day before, and a check of the weather told Claire that the sun would have thermometers climbing to near seventy-two degrees. It wasn’t until the sun settled in the west that she started to feel strange. As she was donning her costume, she turned toward the door of her bedroom, thinking she had heard a voice. A wave of dread washed over her as she felt the surge of vibrational energy, similar to what she had felt when all of this craziness began. Claire closed her eyes and tried to take three deep breaths, seeing herself doing the same thing she did in her dream to find peace. It didn’t work… As soon as her eyes were closed, she could hear the voices of the other Claires rising behind her, their words unintelligible. Then she heard the voice again from the bedroom doorway, in her mind and in her ears. It was one of the other Claires, and her voice was clear as day. Sacrifice!

Fear and loathing replaced the dread, and her mind screamed back at the voice. Sacrifice? What more must I sacrifice? You’ve taken everything away from me! The voice repeated itself, but Claire pressed on with her calming breaths. She used her willpower to suppress the rising vibrations, and as they dwindled, so did the sound of the voice. She would not allow herself to be dragged into that madness again. Pain, confusion, fatigue… those were things she simply didn’t need, nor want, to deal with. She had plenty of that in the singular life that she had been living up until that day, and now that she was back where she belonged, Claire would no longer travel down whatever rabbit hole of fuckery Gabriel had pulled her into.

Did she really believe that? The continuing vibrations inside of her, the nightly escape from the dream, and the blanket-covered mirrors in her apartment said otherwise. Yet, she vowed to herself, and cursed to God, that she would fight against that path with everything she had. It would be a lonely life without Eric, but she was not about to be the puppet of some supernatural asshole trying to make her into something she wasn’t, the realities be damned. Her growing anger allowed her to suppress the vibrations to a lingering nuisance, and the ethereal voice of her other was silenced.

Using the corporeal multi-image in the bedroom window, Claire was able to apply a simple and thin coating of white and black powder makeup to her face. She wouldn’t be the perfect corpse-bride, but she wasn’t certain that it would be a perfect Halloween, either. She gathered a bowl and dumped her meager supply of individually-wrapped candies into it. There wasn’t much of a supply to found in either Weis or Redner’s, and Walmart was a no-go due to extensive damage from the attack. Nevertheless, she smiled at what she had to give away and made her way to the porch to await the kids.

The kids were few and far between. Despite the normalcy that was felt throughout the Valley over the last few days, Claire couldn’t fault the parents for keeping their kids home. For those that did make their way to her door, most of the kids were accompanied by their parents. She smiled as big as she could at the children and their parents, exchanging pleasantries and wishing all a Happy Halloween.

She sat in the quiet of the night when she heard a small group of kids approaching. Their voices told her that they were early teen boys, so she stood up to wait for them. Part of the self-defense measures that Eric had taught her was to always project authority in the face of a group of young boys. Such actions would remind them of their mothers and put them in a more docile state. She was at the edge of the stairs that led down to the walk when she saw them. Six of them there were, and they were all dressed as sailors. A lump immediately formed in Claire’s throat, and it was all she could do to hold back the tears. She had never seen Eric in his uniform, except in photographs, but she had always imagined it. Her smile spread wide as the boys came up the walk and to the porch.

“Ms. Hutchins,” said the lead boy with a nod.

She had no clue who the kid was and couldn’t even be able to guess. But, somehow, the boy knew her. The other boys repeated him and added their own “trick or treat!”

“I’m sorry, boys,” she said as she held out the bowl of candy to them. “You have me at a disadvantage because I don’t know who any of you are.”

The boy who spoke first spoke again, “You don’t know us, Ms. Hutchins, but our parents went to school with you and Mr. Wells. I’m Jason Milton. We all now how much you both respected his service, and our parents do, too. We just wanted to show that we appreciate what he did. We’re sorry that he died.”

The tears ruined her light makeup as she listened to Jason speak. Never did Claire expect that she, or Eric, were important enough to deserve such an outpouring like this. Their old friends from school had surprised them before, but this was the first time that their kids had done so. She couldn’t even speak. All of the photos Claire had of Eric in uniform came rushing into her mind. He was so handsome!

“Ms. Hutchins,” said Jason, unable to break Claire of her reverie. He waited a long moment and repeated himself.

Claire was startled out of her thoughts and blinked. The tears had stopped while she was staring off into nothing, and the lump in her throat was gone.

“Happy Halloween, Ms. Hutchins,” he said with a smile.

“Happy Hallow-”, but Claire didn’t finish her salutation as the western sky lit up a deep red. She squinted her eyes at the light from confusion. Was this another attack? Seeing that the light was constant and reach too high into the night sky, it must’ve been a far distance away if it was an attack. Regardless, she didn’t like what she saw, and neither did the boys, as they turned to see for themselves.

“Boys,” she said, “go home, now.”

“What is it, Ms. Hutchins?” said one of the other boys.

“I don’t know. But I’m not going to trust it.” she looked down at them, her expression commanding. “Get home, boys. Now.”

They nodded listlessly as they looked from her to the red-lit sky and back. Slowly they began to walk away from her. Then the tremors started. They weren’t much, nothing more than a what a passing truck would feel like, but they were constant. Whatever had lit up the sky, Claire knew, was the source of this earthquake. And it felt immense…

Claire made her way upstairs, Halloween coming to an early end. She turned on the television and waited. Halfway through her third Snickers, Wheel of Fortune was finally interrupted by a breaking news report. Claire didn’t get a chance to finish her mini candy bar as video of the incident began and her jaw dropped open. There was no definitive proof, but the initial indications showed that a large meteor had struck somewhere in eastern Kentucky.

“What the hell?!” she said to nobody.

The scenes from the International Space Station showed miles and miles of fire surrounding a center that was red hot. The sky above the fire was littered with pieces of earth blown into the air from the impact and raining down for hundreds of miles around the impact site. She braced herself for what may soon come to the Valley, for there was little doubt that pieces of this impact would find their way to the east coast. How many millions have died? The thought knocked her from her stupor, and she began thinking about what she had to do. The problem was that she had no clue what to do. How could she prepare for this?

Then the vibrations began. It was her warning. You don’t belong here, said Gabriel in her head.

“This is my home, you bastard! I do belong here!” she yelled at the ceiling. She had no idea where Gabriel was, and she had no desire to see him anyway. “Why are you taking this away from me, too?” she continued.

Only moments after the words left her mouth did the first of the remnants of the meteor strike start falling. The rumbles of the explosions were like thunder from a violent storm. Claire continued to look at the ceiling as it lit up red and yellow. Outside her window, she could hear the sounds of vehicles crashing and people screaming. Hell had been let loose on them, and she was petrified. Thoughts of her family and Eric’s family sped through her mind, and a great sadness overtook her as she knew there was nothing that could be done. The tears gushed from her eyes as the vibrations within her started pulsing with earnest.

Outwardly, she screamed at the ceiling with her eyes shut against the flashing violence outside. Inwardly, Dean Winchester raged inside. Son of a bitch! His anger provided her with courage, and she embraced the vibrations which were now pushing her towards the bathroom. Claire’s world, her home, was being destroyed by forces she had no control over, and she knew now that Gabriel was right. She didn’t belong here. But where did she belong? Where did this road lead? Sam and Dean Winchester were now present in her mind’s eye. Every season of Supernatural began and ended with ‘The Road So Far’, and Claire felt that she was embarking on a journey where that could be her motto, too. Flashes of the show ran through her mind: the struggles of the brothers as they found and executed Azazel, the fall of the angels from Heaven, the battle with the leviathans, God’s sister, Amara. So many times, the brothers were pushed down by things that were out of their control, yet, somehow, they always found a way. Lucky for them, though, they had each other.

Claire was alone… Of course, she had been alone for most of her adult life. Even during her marriage, she was essentially alone. She had learned to rely on herself. When Eric had entered her life, it took her some time to realize that she wasn’t alone. He had proven to her that his love wasn’t superficial, that he wasn’t loving her to gain something for his own life. Eric loved her, a love like she had never felt before. And now he was gone. Would he be allowed to go on this journey with me? She didn’t know, but Claire had the feeling that Gabriel wouldn’t approve. This was about her, and she was stuck on a road that was more than she could understand. All she had to help her was Gabriel, and from what she knew of the angel, he wouldn’t measure up to Castiel, the very human angel warrior and forever friend of Sam and Dean.

The pulsing vibrations forced her back to the real world, and the growing confusion and terror outside of her window. Claire hustled to the bathroom and faced the blanket-covered mirror. She could feel the presence of her other behind the blanket, and she steeled her emotions as she prepared to leave her home. She grabbed the blanket and pulled.

There she was… her other. She was haggard, and Claire couldn’t guess the last time she took a shower. Beneath her eyes were dark circles of fatigue, her face was gaunt, and her skin was pale. She wore one of Eric’s old Philadelphia Eagles shirts, and it hung about her in a way that told Claire the woman was as gaunt as her face let on. What kind of world was she going to? What had happened there? The state of the bathroom behind her gave Claire a good idea. The toilet was broken and stained brown. The walls had holes and the drop ceiling was nearly nonexistent.

Her other stared at her, eyes full of fear and hope. Claire could see her mouth moving, but no sound made it to her ears. After a moment, she could understand what was being said, Help me. She turned away. The fear her other felt was now building inside her. Flashes of Sam and Dean returned to her mind, and all of the times when they second guessed their plan. Yes, her world was falling apart, but how many worlds that she would visit would be worse? She walked out of the bathroom, not seeing her other slamming her hands against the mirror in her reality and screaming for help.

The vibrations began getting painful, but Claire didn’t care at that moment. Just let things happen, she thought. Just let fate take control and face the music, Claire. She was never afraid to die, she just wasn’t ready to die yet. But maybe this was the way things were supposed to be. Maybe she wasn’t meant to go galivanting around the multiverse, but to die here in the ravages of a meteor strike. Perhaps it was time to face the music. Besides, she thought, if the meteor doesn’t kill me in some way, then the vibrations inside me will. As she walked away from the mirror, the vibrations increased to an intensity that she had never felt before. It was all she could do to remain upright. But she let out no yelps of pain, and simply wanted to lay down on her bed and let fate do its thing.

Claire lurched into the bedroom and closed the door. The blanket fell off of the body-length mirror that hung there, and she didn’t see her reflection, but the reflection of the room in other Claire’s reality. there was nothing there to see but a dilapidated structure, the far wall where the window should be was nothing more than a gaping hole. She saw no stars in the visible sky above, and the world itself was dark. It looked cold and damp to her, a thoroughly uninviting place, to say the least.

“Hell no,” she said to nobody, and bent down to pick up the blanket.

As she raised the blanket to place it back over the mirror, Claire watched as her other went flying across the floor. She landed in a heap, unconscious and bleeding from a wound above her eye. Then he stepped into view, the Undertaker. She was stunned with fear. How did he find her again? The vibrations whipped into a fury inside of her, the pain like white hot lightning. But Claire barely noticed as she watched the figure in the mirror approach. No shadow hid his face this time, and she saw his short-cropped red beard below his sardonic grin. She saw the red hair flowing from underneath his wide-brimmed hat. And she saw his red-glowing eyes piercing into her soul.

Then her own world was rocked, and she was able to break her gaze. A meteor remnant had struck the house next door. It was small, she gleaned, as she was still standing in her bedroom, but Claire could already feel the heat from the instant fire it produced. Glancing back into the mirror, she could see the Undertaker still standing there, laughing now at her deteriorating situation. Behind him, though, she could see her other beginning to stir. She had to keep his attention, so she pointed to him and moved slowly to the corner where she had put the Springfield Hellcat. Gripping it, she released the magazine to ensure it was loaded and checked the chamber. Claire also picked up her phone and stuffed it in her bra, as she was still in her Halloween costume. No doubt that was part of the reason for Undertaker’s laughter as she made a show of getting herself ready to jump into that reality.

The apartment around her was quickly overcame by the growing blaze, but she stood firm against her foe in the mirror. Claire held his gaze, all the while able to see her other rise quietly. In the other’s hand she saw a hatchet, and she watched as the woman charged the Undertaker, weapon raised and ready to strike. His movements were a blur, and in an instant he had her pinned against him, the arm that held the hatchet wrenched behind her. He held the blade to her neck, cutting deep enough to draw blood. He’s going to kill her, she thought. He watched her expression change and nodded at her, letting her know that that’s exactly what he planned to do.

It was another impossible choice for Claire. A few minutes ago, she was ready to let fate have its way with her and welcome the end of her life. Now, she was forced to watch as some unnatural entity was going to end the life of one of her others. Her stolid façade cracked, and she began to cry through her anger. The growing flames highlighted the running makeup on her face, and the noise of it drowned her cries of agony.

“Gabriel! Help her you son of a bitch!” she screamed to the burning ceiling.

But he never showed. As the building around her began to buckle, Claire saw her other reach out to her in desperation. It was now or never… Pistol in her right hand, Claire reached out her left hand towards the mirror. Half-expecting to have her hand stopped by the mirror’s surface, she felt the right hand of her other grab a hold. They pulled towards each other and Claire disappeared through the mirror as her home crashed to the ground. She used the momentum to swing around to the Undertaker’s back and pointed the barrel of the pistol to his head.

CRACK!! She fired the pistol, but the Undertaker wasn’t there. As Claire fell to the ground, she quickly noticed that the bullet had gone straight through her other’s neck. She lay there, eyes wide and scared as the life bled out of her.

“Oh, God,” Claire whispered, paying no attention to the growing pool of blood beneath her. “I’m so sorry!”

Other Claire shook her head no and managed to say one word through the gurgling in her throat. “Run!”

The other’s face slackened at the moment of death, and Claire found herself staring into lifeless eyes. She looked into the mirror and watched as the inferno of her world faded into the reflection of herself and her dead other. Her world was gone, and she had the feeling she’d never see it again. The vibrations within her had subsided to a low hum again, but she felt an insistence in that hum. Nodding to herself, she placed her hand over the mouth of the dead woman in her arms. There was no delay in the pink and blue glow of her soul lighting up the room, and Claire threw her head back in ecstasy. Was this how a vampire felt while feeding? She could see in her mind the abyss flaring as the new soul spilled into it. She heard the collective sigh of the others behind her and their demand that she keep finding them and killing them. A thought flickered in that moment, will you let me kill you? If any of them were like her, which kind of felt like a stupid thing to even question, then they wouldn’t let her kill them willingly, even if they demanded it of her in the dream.

The soul had been consumed, and she was finally aware of why her other had told her to run.

“Where are you at, lady? We’re hungry!” came the voice from the kitchen. It was raspy with dehydration and guttural with hunger.

Claire had no idea what kind of world she had jumped into, but the sound of that voice told her that it was a violent one. She quickly closed the eyes of her other and went to the window over the porch. Not daring to put down the gun, she tried with all of her might to open the window. It didn’t budge. The landlord in this world must have been just like the one at home, for the window was old and worn. She wondered, with a snicker, if it had ever been able to open.

“There you are!” Two men stepped into the room, as gaunt as the woman on the floor. They wore tinted goggles, and they were dressed as like they were starring in a post-apocalyptic thrill movie. “You still got some meat on ya, don’t ya, honey?”

The other man behind him laughed in agreement and licked his lips. “She could last us a few days, eh, Jordi?”

Cannibals?! What the hell happened here?! She leveled the gun at the men. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Would ya look at that, Lou? She thinks a pistol is gonna stop us!” and he turned to Lou and laughed loudly. Lou joined Jordi as he pulled a machete from under his coat. “Guns don’t stop us, you little cunt. We’re gonna eat you for dinner and sell that there pistol. It’ll fetch us a nice sum, no doubt.”

Jordi pulled his own machete out from his coat and the men began their slow advance. Claire took a quick, calming breath and fired. Jordi stopped in his tracks as Lou fell to the ground, the hole in his forehead trickling a stream of blood. Bye, Lou! she thought, and focused the gun on Jordi. She fired again, but she had never mastered the ability to keep her hands from shaking between shots. The bullet missed by a mile and he rushed her. Once again, Eric’s training saved her a headache. Claire side-stepped the man and swung the butt of the gun to the back of his head, sending him careening through the window that wouldn’t open.

She chose not to tarry any longer and ran to the stairs and down and out of the house. The man on the porch roof groaned in pain behind her as he got to his feet.

“You better run, woman!”

Glancing back as she ran, she saw him limp to the tree at the corner of the porch and begin to climb down. Claire began to sprint and never looked back. Down Fourth Street she ran, then hung a left on Jefferson. More voices joined in the threatening yells of Jordi as the burn in her lungs and legs started. None of it mattered. She just kept running, ideas of where to hide out running through her mind as quickly as she ran the streets of East Greenville. Before she knew it, she had busted through the tree line and found herself running across the football field of the Perkiomen School. That’s when it hit her, she would hide in the library. It could kill two birds with one stone, she could hideaway in a dark corner until daylight and she could perhaps find some news on what happened to this world.

She had no need to break into the building because most of the windows were already busted out. So, Claire ran around to the back of the building and climbed inside. Staying quiet, she kept the Hellcat at eye level in case she ran into any squatters. She had no intention of being eaten. It’s no wonder nobody has guns, she thought, the noise would draw the cannibals. Cannibals! Claire still couldn’t wrap her head around that. She hoped that not everybody was like that. There had to be plenty of wildlife to sustain most people so they wouldn’t have to eat their own. And from how Jordi had spoken, it also came to her mind that there had to be a hierarchy in this world.

A noise came from across the room that she was in, and she spun quickly, ready to shoot. Still as a board Claire stood, letting her eyes get fully adjusted to the near total darkness of the room. Her breath caught in her throat until she heard the soft meow of a cat. She raised the barrel of the gun to her forehead and sighed quietly. She made her way to the animal, her heart a little lighter than it had been just a moment ago. There on a desk stood a black cat, its eyes yellow in the minimal light that made it into the room. As she put her hand out to pet it, Claire noticed something eerily familiar with the cat.

It rubbed its nose on her hand, and she rubbed down its back. She decided to take a chance…

“Max?”

The cat meowed again, recognizing its name. He nudged her hand forcefully as he knew that his human had returned.

“Maxy! Oh, my sweet boy! How I’ve missed you!” She kept the excitement in her voice hushed, but she also put down her pistol to pick up the cat. Claire hugged him and nestled her nose in his neck.

She held him for a minute and then set him back down on the desk. A noise outside startled her and she stepped back into another desk. Listening intently, Claire heard no further noise from outside and let out her breath. She bent down and picked up a thin paperback that had fallen to the floor when bumped the desk it sat on. Remembering that she had her cell phone, she sat down on the floor and turned on the flashlight feature. Sweet Emotion: An Anthology of Heartfelt Poetry read the title. Claire opened it to a random page and read the poem:

Lost,

What does it mean?

Is it a physical place, a place where we all go when you can’t find hope?

Lost, a little dream-scape for humanity to dive in.

Lost, a forgotten tome of fear and trapped dysphoria.

I’m lost. So are you. You can’t speak or scream or even understand what it means

But you know how it feels, it weighs

Down with an unknown property you can’t name.

You know you have a voice,

But it’s lost(but you seem to know what it sounds like)

Lost, you can get lost, and then you’ll be found.

You lost your identity

You lost your dreams

You lost your heart

You just…lost.(get over it, everyone loses something sometimes)

We’re all a bit lost, aren’t we?

But we just pretend we are found.

We just wanted to be found.

And I found you,

And now we’re lost again,

(In

Each

Other’s

Eyes)

A whole universe of lost

And found.

- Melanie Ingold

“Ain’t that the truth,” she said quietly to Max.

Where does Claire go from here? Follow her on her continuing journey in Chapter 13:

Fog and Haze