11:00 AM
Alya stood in front of the only house she'd known for the past sixteen years. The chipped paint, sagging roof, and rusted gates looked no different, but at that moment, it all felt like a cage, one she was finally breaking free from.
She could still hear their voices echoing in her mind.
"Alya! Have you fed the goats?" Mrs. Sheffield had shrieked just this morning, her lips painted in a smear of red, lashes clumped with cheap mascara, and her robe clinging to her bony shoulders.
"Where's that brat? Go pack my mum's poo, she's spilled it again!" came Mr. Sheffield, stomping through the house like a drunk bull with belly swaying under a beer-stained shirt.
"You're good for nothin'! That's why they dumped you in that convent like the curse you are!" wheezed Grandma Sheffield, her voice raspy from decades of cigarettes and bitterness.
"I'm not watching your mother again," her foster mother would complain. "Let Alya do it. I just got my nails done."
"She needs to go work at the mechanic after school," Mr. Sheffield would grunt. "Make herself useful for once."
And Alya would just nod quietly. But now, she wasn't staying.
She inhaled deeply and slipped through the front door. The sound of running water upstairs told her Mrs. Sheffield was in the shower. She crept up the creaking wooden stairs toward the attic that was her so-called bedroom.
Inside, she tied up her hair, grabbed her duffel bag from under the bed, and began throwing in what little she owned: her diary, a sweater, and a couple of clothes.
Then there was a bang. The front door slammed open.
Alya froze.
"Grace! Why the hell are you blowin' up my phone at work?!" barked Mr. Sheffield.
The water stopped. Footsteps and shuffling could be heard as Grace rushed out of her room.
"The school called," she snapped. "That little witch did something again!"
"I swear, if I get my hands on her...!"
"She's always causing problems. People are talkin'. She should be working, not strutting around. I've been telling you, we're wasting time on her," the woman snapped. "Send her to your mechanic shop full-time. At least then she'd be useful."
"No, love," Mr. Sheffield said with a weary sigh. "We promised the convent we'd keep her in school. That's how we still get the donations, remember? But we'll teach her a lesson, don't worry about that."
Alya's heart pounded in her throat as she hurried to finish. She was zipping up her bag when it slipped and dropped on the floor with a loud thud.
Downstairs, the couple went silent. A second later, heavy footsteps boomed as they stomped up the stairs.
Alya bolted toward the door, slammed it shut, and twisted the lock just as their fists landed hard against it.
"Open this door!" Mr. Sheffield bellowed. "I've had it with your crappy, mumbo jumbo, freak shows. Open this damn door!"
Alya scanned the room, desperate for escape. The window was too high. It would break her bones if she jumped.
The banging on the door grew louder.
"Open this door, Alya!"
She backed away from the door, her hands trembling as she gripped her bag tighter.
"Alya! Over here!" came Jayden's voice.
She rushed to the window. There he was, down below.
She tossed the bag down. "What do I do now?!"
"Jump!"
"What!"
"I said jump!"
Alya looked back at the door, panicking, wondering if there were alternatives to the crazy idea from the crazy stranger.
"They're going to break the door down. Look at me," he said.
She did. There was something in his eyes. It was as if he knew her better than anyone ever had, as though he saw something inside her even she didn't believe existed.
"You have it in you," he whispered. "Jump."
And she did.
Even a bulky grown adult would get hurt jumping from that distance. Not Alya though. Just as she neared the ground, her descent slowed. Wind coiled around her limbs, guiding her right into Jayden's outstretched arms.
"You have abilities too?" she gasped.
Before he could answer, a sharp crack broke the air, followed by the thunderous stomp of hurried footsteps.
"There she is!" Grace shrieked. "So this is why you skipped school? To sneak off with some boy?"
"Come on!" Jayden grabbed her hand and ran to his bike.
The bike roared to life and they took off just as Mr. Sheffield stormed out, jiggling his keys.
"She's dead meat!" he barked.
And the chase began.
Alya held tight as Jayden weaved through Willow's Haven's narrow streets, dodging startled pedestrians and honking cars. Her hair whipped behind her; her heart thundered so loudly, threatening to drop from her mouth.
"He's going to catch us! He's going to catch us!" she chanted in fright.
"Hold on tight," Jayden said. "I've got you."
They ducked through alleys, past the old post office, over a narrow wooden bridge. But just as they thought they'd lost him, the truck screeched out of a side street, nearly slamming into them.
Jayden swerved hard, grabbed Alya, and leapt off the bike before it crashed.
"You okay?" he asked, pulling her to her feet.
"I'm fine."
"Then run!"
They tore through the alley, dodging trash cans and wooden boxes.
Behind them, the growl of the truck engine grew louder and closer. Tires screeched as Mr. Sheffield barreled after them.
"Do you even know where we're going?" Alya panted.
"I've never been to this place!" Jayden shouted back.
"What?!"
She nearly stumbled from shock as her heart slammed against her ribs. They soon turned a sharp corner only to skid to a halt.
A tall, solid wall with thick barbed wire blocked their path.
Alya's stomach dropped. "Great. We're doomed. I shouldn't have trusted you! Now I'm in even bigger trouble."
Jayden turned to her. "We'll get through this."
"How?" Alya's voice broke, a feeling of helplessness curling around her. "He's right here."
Mr. Sheffield's truck screeched to a stop, blocking the exit behind them. He climbed out, his eyes manic with rage.
They were trapped.
"I knew I should've kept you locked in the basement until you were old and grey," Mr. Sheffield spat. "You're of no use to me, just a walking headache. But I won't spare you this time. You're coming with me straight to the mechanic's shop. You'll work day and night until you've paid back every ounce of trouble you've caused."
Alya stepped in front of Jayden and spoke in a trembling voice. "If I'm no use to you, why won't you just let me leave?"
"Cocky, huh?" He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Why would I let you go and burden someone else with your useless existence? No one wants you. Not even your parents wanted you."
"Shut up!" Jayden snapped, stepping forward.
Alya flinched. His words stung.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe they didn't want her.
Jayden turned to her. "Don't listen to him, Alya. He's lying to you. They left you that locket around your neck. That means something, right? You mean something to them, Alya."
She stared at him, his beautiful blue eyes holding so much conviction. How could he be so sure? He hardly knew anything about her.
"Trust me, Alya. We can get through this."
Behind them, Mr. Sheffield laughed.
"Your little boyfriend is delusional. Save yourself the drama and get in the truck."
Alya inhaled and stepped forward. "No. I'm never going back with you."
Then she raised her hand.
The wind came in an instant, swirling around them with howling intensity. Mr. Sheffield stumbled back, eyes wide as the air lifted him off his feet and hurled him into the side of the truck.
Alya and Jayden were thrown too, slamming into the wall behind them.
Jayden coughed, stood up immediately, and pulled her upright. "That was incredible."
She nodded with pride, took her stance again, and tried yet again, but this time, the wind was gone.
Mr. Sheffield staggered to his feet, angrier than ever.
"I'm done with both of you..." He lunged forward, hand raised, ready to pounce on them.
Jayden stepped in front of her, ready to defend her, but Alya yanked him back, shoving him toward the wall behind them.
Only... the wall wasn't there anymore.
Her hand passed through it, and then her whole body followed.
She gasped.
Losing her footing, she reached for Jayden to steady herself, only to drag him with her.
They both disappeared, swallowed by the wall.
