When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (mobi reader android TXT) 📗

the table closest to them. He leaned in and studied her face. Everything in her body screamed to lunge back and take her chances with whatever horrors awaited them in the woods. But as their eyes met, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“Ahh,” he whispered. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was sitting on the back end of the table, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Would you like some?” He thrust his cup towards her and steaming liquid sloshed across his arm. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Umm… no, thank you,” Avia shakily replied. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “I actually had to ask you a question.”

“Well of course, my dear.” He extended his hand and two wooden dining chairs appeared in front of them. Avia nervously sat down and glanced at Cheshire, who still hadn’t said a word since they arrived. His head was hung low and he was clearly avoiding the Hatter’s gaze.

“Cheshire tells me I was born a dreamwalker,” Avia began, turning back to the sorcerer. “I’ve figured out different ways of entering the aether, but I can’t stay. I want to know how you can go freely between worlds for as long as you want.”

“You are a dreamwalker. A very powerful one indeed…” His words drifted as he leaned close again and poked her in the forehead. “As should be expected from the fourth.”

Avia pulled back. “Excuse me?”

“Never mind, sorry, talking aloud.” He took another puff from his pipe. “Anyway, why do you want to stay here? Earth has so many beautiful things. Did you know there are over three thousand different types of tea?”

“Yes, I believe I heard that somewhere before, but—”

“And this!” he punched his arm to the side and his entire forearm vanished. His shoulder jerked and twisted until he seemed to find what he was searching for. Pulling his arm back into existence, he was now holding an ice cream cone, the four scoops teetering warily in his hand.

“You’ve obviously never had mint chocolate chip,” he said matter-of-factly. He slowly licked it twice before swallowing the entire thing in one gulp, cone and all.

“I don’t care about ice cream, or tea,” Avia grumbled, growing irritated with his lack of concern.”

“Explain.” He tilted his head curiously as the teacup reconjured in his hand.

“When I’m here, I feel alive. I can do anything and go anywhere. When I go back, there’s a noose around my neck and it feels like I’m just waiting for someone to kick the block from under me.”

“I don’t see,” he replied distractedly. His hands were fumbling behind him, trying to reach for a scone.

“I don’t know what else to say,” Avia sighed. “I don’t even understand it myself; by the end of the day I end up having been so many different people, it gets hard to keep track. I don’t know, it’s really confusing...”

“It isn’t. Well, at least not as confusing as you make it.”

She sighed again, too tired to argue with him. “I just… I’m tired and I can’t take it anymore.”

“What other choice do you have?” His voice was serious. The bizarre, eccentric being had been replaced by something much more stoic.

“To be like you.”

“Well, you can’t be like me. It’s as simple as that.”

“But why?!”

“Because deary, you’re quite mad.”

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” Avia spat heatedly.

“Well, me? I know I’m mad. You’re still in denial.”

Avia crossed her arms. “I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I have a few screws loose. ‘We’re all mad here,’ right?”

“No, no. Well, yes, possibly later, but right now, no. You want to leave because you’re empty. You’re sad. But really, you’re mad. Cross, vexed, piktas, iratus, duka, nervos, enojado, arrabbiato, en colére. Pissed off.”

“What?”

“Your wrath supersedes any rational explanation. Yes, your parents made awful mistakes, as is expected from mortals. Yes, you had a terrible experience with that beastly Columbian man. Yes, I’m sure you could get prescribed anti-depressants if you actually went to a therapist, but there’s something more! Driving all of that is the burning ember of wrath burrowed in your chest. You hate the world and everyone in it, but if you were to ever admit that, then you’d feel even worse. Because what kind of good person could possibly hate what she is— human.”

Avia jumped out of her chair and slammed her hands on the table. “Bitch, you don’t even know me! What are you talking about?!”

“But I do know,” the Hatter calmly replied. “You’re exactly li—” he paused, glancing at Cheshire then back to her. “The answer is no.”

“Shut up!” Avia screamed, swiping the china to the ground. “I’m tired of your games!” Tears streamed down her face as the hardened composure she’d kept since their arrival shattered. “Please! Just teach me how to stay! I don’t—I can’t go back!”

“You can never stay here, Avia,” he said, standing up. He turned around and began to walk away, his feet simply passing through the dishes. When he reached the end, he stopped and his shoulders fell. He sighed audibly and shook his head. “Did Cheshire tell you nothing?”

Chapter 12

Avia awoke in her bed disoriented. She wiped the sleep from her eyes to see the alarm clock read 3:52 p.m. Turning her head, she spotted her cello, still on its stand across the room. The pile of dirty laundry was still towering past the foot of her bed. Nothing had changed. Rage tore free as she thrashed in her blankets screaming. She had been so close. She had met him, been close enough to touch him, and yet here she was again. The Spirit World had rejected her, just as it had done countless times before.

Accompanied with a new level of bitterness