The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) (39 page)

“Are you two okay? We heard a scream,” Simon called.

“We’re fine. False alarm, I’m sorry!” Annette sputtered, her voice shaking. They listened as Simon’s footsteps padded down the hall. Penny looked over at Annette, confused when she threw off the covers and stood up, hugging herself.

“Why did you scream?” Penny asked.

Annette looked at Penny, her eyes wide and her tousled hair illuminated by the moonlight. “Something…very strange,” she said, sitting back down. “It was like I was somebody else for a moment. I was sitting in this bizarre room, lying in a bed, and my legs hurt a-and―”

“Were there a bunch of bugs in the bed? Were they biting you?” Penny confirmed, comprehension dawning.

Annette winced and nodded.

“I get it―you saw my dream, I think. I suppose somehow…I’m also able to put memories or dreams of my own into other’s heads just like I can take them,” Penny mused, trying to work it out.

“
That
was a dream?” Annette acted violated. “But you said that dreams were wonderful! That was—that was―you have to go through that every night?” She seemed on the verge of tears, and Penny took her hand.

“They’re not all like that. Well, maybe
before
they weren’t all like that…I guess my dreams lately aren’t all that nice. But usually they’re great,” Penny reassured her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that would happen. I’ll take care not to sleep too close anymore.”

Annette still looked disturbed as she pondered this. “I wonder…could you show me what a nice dream is like? I don’t think I could go to sleep again after that,” she choked out.

Penny remembered the first time she had suffered a nightmare as a child, and was confident that the same fear must be coursing through Annette now. She struggled to think of a way to put a dream in her head.

“I don’t think I can…I mean, up until a minute ago I didn’t even know it was possible to…erm,
reverse the process
at all. It’s much easier for me to show you your own memories. I could do that, if you like―it’ll still feel like a dream,” Penny offered.

Annette put her finger to her lips and contemplated. “Is it safe?” she asked.

“Completely,” Penny assured her with the best smile she could muster. “Just think of a happy memory and grab my hand.” She extended her hand, waiting until Annette decided on a memory and placed her hand on top of Penny’s. Penny took a deep breath and cleared her mind, allowing the bright flash of light to coax Annette’s chosen memory into her mind.

A small, chubby girl ran through her parents’ home, holding ribbons in her hands as she burst into the dining room. Her flowing blonde locks were tied back in pigtails and she launched over to the chair and climbed her way up. The table was covered with a cloth and an expensive looking tea set was strewn about, amidst piles of cookies and cakes. Two other young girls, one tall and lithe who appeared to be several years older than the first, and the second barely old enough to talk, sat between an assortment of stuffed animals.…

The memory dissolved away from Penny’s eyes.

Annette looked exhilarated as she grasped the sides of her face. “My goodness! It’s like living it over again!” she whispered, ecstatic. “It was as if I were really just there with Anita and Annabelle. I could hear their voices, feel the tablecloth…”

Penny contemplated what she had just seen “Those girls were your sisters, and you were…?” Penny inquired, remembering Valentine’s cruel comments in the sewing shop.

Annette flashed an almost frightened look at Penny. “Oh, yes. That was me,” she admitted, and fought past the sudden wave of gloom passing over her face. “Can I see one more? Please?”

Penny nodded and took Annette’s hand in hers, another memory flowing into her mind…

…Annette, now just shy of sixteen, stood before her parents, sisters, Aunt Wendy and Uncle Theo. She smiled her brightest and took a deep breath, glancing back at Gavin sitting at the piano behind her. He had always been exceptionally lovely, even as a youth. Annette felt a fierce stab of jealousy at the sudden sight of his flawless face, but beamed over at him nonetheless. He gave her an encouraging wink and began to play the introduction to a song.

Annette sang out with all her heart, feeling her hands and body shake as she performed. She took care to hit all the notes, remembering where to breathe. As the last note of the song rang out, her family burst into applause, her mother running forward and taking Annette in her arms with a proud squeal. Annette felt humiliated when she hugged her mother’s slender and bony frame in her soft one, but smiled anyway.

“Beautiful, sweetheart. You’ll do fantastic, no doubt,” her father said with glowing pride and a glinting smile.

“We’ll all be cheering for you, my dear,” Aunt Wendy announced, moving in to get a hug from Annette.

“Thank you, thank you all,” Annette said, feeling her confidence rise along with the nervousness in her chest. The auditions were tomorrow; there was no going back now. She looked back at Gavin and saw that his hopeful gaze was fixed on his father, seeking acknowledgment. Uncle Theo was looking away, a strained look in his eyes. Annette felt her heart drop and slid away from her chattering parents and sisters to join Gavin on the piano bench.

“I thought you played marvelously,” she told him, watching his expression change from somber to a bittersweet form of contentment…

…Annette’s heart would not stop pounding. The adrenaline that snaked through her veins caused her voice to tremble and crack. Her eyes stung with tears but she kept them in, feeling the white-hot lights stream at her from every direction. The crowd was a black, hushed mass before her, their attention all fixed on her.

There was no need to see them to know who it had been. She knew who had called out that hurtful word, yet she continued to sing, feeling humiliated and disgusted with herself, predicting that the second she was off stage she would collapse into a puddle of tears. Annette was determined to keep going―or she was until the laughter started.

It was one or two voices at first, coming from the same area as the stinging insult. More hideous statements about her body were being called out, each word digging into her like a knife.

It’s her and her friends, her awful friends,
Annette thought as she tried to continue her song, feeling her voice dying in her throat as the derisive laughter grew louder and more grating on her ears.

“Hey, dirigible, the airstation is down the street! Get off the stage!” It was a male voice this time, hoarse and broken by guffaws.

Annette felt her knees shake and could do nothing but stand blinded by the hot stage lights. The laughter was echoed all across the audience now, mixed in with angry shouts, some directed at those who laughed, others calling out more cruel names. The accompanying music blared on as the first hot tears fell down her cheek. She felt teardrops, illuminated by the stage lights, fall from her face and splatter onto the stage. She could take it no longer.

Annette raced off the stage, covering her face with her hands, loud boos and harassing shouts trailing after her. She ran through the darkness of the backstage area, people trying to catch her and calling out her name as she violently pushed past them.

“Annette, wait! Stop!” She could hear Aldridge running behind her, his voice imploring. Another stab of sickness and guilt hit her; he had given her this chance and she had derailed the performance by running away. She escaped into the cold night, ignoring everything around her as she plunged herself into the deepest and most remote alleyway behind the theater. At the end of this dark and dingy place she collapsed to her knees in mortification. Undiluted wrath and dejected sickness washed over her in crashing waves. In a fit, Annette ripped the bows from her hair and threw them in the pile of garbage along with whatever bits of her costume she could manage to tear off. The urge to shrivel up and disappear to a place where no one could ever see her again filled her mind. She prayed to be invisible.

Her wails turned into anguished sobs and then were reduced to tiny sniffles. She was glad of the darkness; she could not see the way anything looked. She lifted her eyes skyward toward the stars, grieving at the loss of her dream. Annette was moments from another paroxysm of sorrow when a small voice got her attention.

“Hey,” it said. The innocuous sound was enough to jolt Annette from her misery and onto her feet, her whole body trembling. The voice was unfamiliar.

“Is that you? The girl from…the play?” The voice was hesitant, male―but not unkind. Annette could see the man’s vague form at the end of the alleyway.

“Who’s there? What do you want? Come to torment me some more? Was laughing at how disgusting I am from the audience not good enough for you?” Annette yelled, feeling as much fear as she did anger. The stranger took several methodic steps forward.

“It’s not safe here. People are looking for you―they’re worried,” he soothed, stepping closer to Annette. She could barely make out a face in the darkness, let alone distinguish his features.

“You followed me here?” she sniffled.

“Yes, I was watching the play—it’s awful what they did. It made me sick to watch.”

“No, I deserved it…I shouldn’t be allowed to act or sing… I’m just a f―f―” Annette burst into tears again and the man put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t ever say that. You were fantastic.”

The memory stopped as the present-day Annette threw herself back from Penny’s grip, holding her stomach and moaning. Penny felt sickened by what she had just seen. She peered at Annette, who looked as if she might burst into tears once more. The girls stared at each other in uncomfortable silence, Penny feeling as if she had trespassed into forbidden territory.

“Annette, I didn’t mean for―I can’t believe that―I’m sorry,” Penny tried, but Annette shook her head.

“No, no―it was my fault…I couldn’t help but think of it and―oh, no…n-now I’m crying again,” she whispered, wiping at her eyes.

Penny inched forward and put an arm around her. “It was Valentine, wasn’t it?” she asked.

Annette nodded, biting at her bottom lip as she scowled. “She brought all her friends there that night―she planned it all in advance,” She choked out, anger sparking in her tear-flooded eyes. “I was only sixteen.”

Penny hugged Annette as the actress caught her breath. “Why would she do a thing like that? Why does she hate you so much?”

Annette wiped a final tear from her cheek and sighed. “Valentine was the most famous actress of her time. They called her
The Goddess of Iverton
once. My mother was a prop artist, and ever since I was old enough to talk she would take me to see the plays she worked on. That was where I first saw Valentine.

“She mesmerized me. She was
so
beautiful in her youth, so talented and full of life. I loved her, I wanted to
be
her…she was my hero. When I was young I watched every single one of her performances, desperate to be like her in every way. One of my first memories is when I begged my mother for singing and dancing lessons so that one day I could be as great as Valentine. When they discovered I had something of a natural talent, performing became my life. I did nothing but study music, dancing, and drama, and followed each so diligently I was removed from public school so I could train harder. It’s because of this that Gavin and I became so close at an early age. We were both deeply involved in the same activities.

“Finally, when I started to audition for some of the plays, I got noticed by Aldridge. He gave me a few chorus roles early on, but when I turned sixteen everything changed. That was the year I’d tried out for the lead…and I got it. I beat Valentine—the
Goddess of Iverton
. Of course it probably had something to do with the role being written for a teenager and Valentine was nearing her thirty-third birthday, but the fact remained…and she took it
personally
. I heard from Aldridge that she threw a fit and refused the supporting role he’d offered her. She couldn’t accept that she got beaten out by someone that looked…how I looked back then…nor could she come to terms with the fact that she was growing old and that her career eventually had to change, so I became her scapegoat. Everywhere I went people were giving me dirty looks and saying the worst things, but I kept on practicing and going to rehearsals. My family was
so
proud of me―and I was proud, too. I’d never thought of myself as beautiful or special, but all of a sudden I
was
. My dreams were all coming true―that was until Valentine pulled her little stunt,” Annette spat, referring to the memory Penny had just witnessed.

“She’s pathetic,” Penny whispered, feeling ill. “But she didn’t beat you in the end. I mean, look at you. You’re better than she ever was. How did you―?”

“Oh, it certainly didn’t end there,” Annette said. “That night, I almost decided to give up on everything. I was completely ashamed of myself, but that man…the one who found me in the alleyway. He stayed with me until my friends and parents came and found me. He was so kind―he begged me not to give up―he said it would be a shame for true talent to go to waste and he made all these silly jokes and even gave me a present to try and cheer me up.” Annette pointed at the green-glass earrings that she never removed.