A Hold of Spectres
Chapter Three

Life at Passing’s End from that point forward was lonely. Extremely so. She was closer to the other Mothers than she was to any of the other girls she trained with. If they didn’t resent her skills, they feared retaliation from Kyndra if they got too close. And she couldn’t blame them. She didn’t blame them. Her mother, while good at what she did, was a ruthless, and at times heartless, individual. She often accused those recruits who tried to get close to her daughter of seeking favoritism, and that would put an end to whatever friendship might have had a chance to bud.

Rhaean had mentioned all of this to her mother before, and to no avail. Kyndra was an independent soul. She relied on nothing and no one. And though Rahean believed her mother loved her, she often struggled to find proof of it. Kyndra was neither affectionate nor warm. It was, she said, the reason Rhaean’s father did not even wait for Rhaean’s birth before he left them both. Kyndra spoke of him very little, but whenever she did, the resentment and bitterness was palpable. Rhaean knew that Kyndra wanted her to be independent too, to need and want no one else in her life, but that was not who Rhaean was. Where Kyndra thrived on her own, Rhaean craved community. Scarlet had been gone from Passing’s End for over a year, and Rhaean had battled intense loneliness every day. All progress she had been making disappeared, and she was left feeling inadequate and unwanted once more.

At the thought of what the last few years had been, tears threatened to fill Rhaean’s eyes and she blinked hard to keep them from falling. Her chest constricted, as though her lungs, her ribs, and even her very heart were being squeezed into a space much too small. Breathing became erratic and difficult. This was a new development, one that came over her unexpectedly at times. It had only been occurring for a few months or so, but it filled her with anger and self-loathing. She didn’t know what it was or what was causing it, but the intensity would consume her for several moments, and then eventually subside, leaving her exhausted and on edge.

She tossed the history book aside and climbed off of her bed and began to pace the room. She told herself she was being silly. She told herself to calm down; that all she needed to do was reach out to the girls around her, offer them her friendship first, and they’d be sure to accept. But even the very thought of that made her chest constrict even tighter. It didn’t matter how friendly she was. If Kyndra didn’t want her to have friends, she wouldn’t. And she couldn’t force the other girls to accept her.

She considered going to her mother and expressing again her need for companionship, but she knew it would amount to nothing. Her mother did not listen to her. She never had. It was clear that any hope for connection was wishful thinking, and the tears came to her eyes again. Only this time, she allowed them to fall. She stopped pacing, breathing hard as the tears overwhelmed her, and then crumpled to the ground, burying her face in her hands. Her body shook with heavy sobs. She wanted to scream. Felt the pressure of it build in her gut and rise to the back of her throat, but she swallowed it. Held it back. Fought the urge. 

She hated this. She hated Passing’s End and everyone inside of it. She wanted a normal life with normal struggles, not this endless darkness that left her no solace but her own wretched company. 

“But if you weren’t here, who would I play with?” a voice behind her said suddenly.

Rhaean stood to her feet and spun around, her heart racing. She fully expected someone to be right behind her, but the room was empty. Her door was still closed and she had not heard it open. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked around, wondering how anyone had entered the room without her hearing the door open and close again, or how they could have hidden so quickly. Had she been that distracted? Where would they have hidden, anyway? The room was small and held no closet. She waited a moment but whoever had been there wasn’t there now. 

“Great,” Rhaean muttered to herself, running her hands through her thick, dark curls that hung down past her shoulders. “Now I’m hearing things.”

From above her, a laugh echoed. Rhaean turned her gaze towards the ceiling, but then the laugh was behind her; she turned, and the laugh was suddenly closer to her door. But no one was visible. Rhaean’s heart pounded in her chest. The very breath in her lungs seemed to be frozen inside of her body. 

“Who are you?” she heard herself ask, though her voice was closer to a screech than anything.

The voice only laughed harder.

“Who are you?” Rhaean asked again, her voice sounding more forceful, more demanding, even though she felt terrified.

“I don’t think I’ll tell you that,” the voice said in a sing-song way, as though mocking her and her fear. “Not yet, anyway.”

Rhaean felt her chest constricting again. She was nearing a state of panic and she didn’t know how to repress it. Her breathing intensified and quickened and her vision blurred. She shook her head and tried to breathe, tried to think of anything else, but the laughter continued. 

“It’s only in your head,” she whispered to herself, “It’s only in your head.”

“Is this in your head?” the voice said and Rhaean immediately felt something grab at her clothes. She gasped and swatted at it, whatever it was, but felt only air. 

“What about this?” the voice asked, yanking on Rhaean’s hair. 

“Stop it!” Rhaean said, her voice weak and full of fear.

The voice laughed and started picking up various objects around the room and dropping them to the floor. With each moment that passed, the laughter got louder.

“Stop it!” Rhaean shouted, covering her ears with her hands. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

But it only continued, laughter mocking her every thought, her every emotion until  Rhaean couldn’t take it any longer. She grabbed her history book and made her way towards the door. She was clearly losing her mind after spending so much time alone, she told herself. She needed to be around other people. She needed to accept the reality of her life. If she could somehow find some semblance of normalcy, she would soon be back to her usual self. Even the loneliness she hated seemed a welcome reprieve from whatever was going on around her now. This was not the kind of connection she wanted. 

The voice laughed again as she grabbed hold of the doorknob. 

“I’ll still be here, Rhaean,” it cooed softly, close enough that Rhaean thought for sure she could feel breath on the nape of her neck. “Waiting for you.”

Rhaean didn’t respond. She left the room and slammed the door behind her.