2. The Girl Who Survived

This must be a nightmare, right?

That was the first thing that came to mind when I opened my eyes. But no, it wasn't. I woke up in a hospital bed, my whole body aching and sore. I looked down and saw bandages wrapped around my chest and arm.

The memory of Sara hit me like a truck.

Sara's face—blank, lifeless—covered in blood.

No, no, no! This can't be real. This isn't real!

"Sara...! Sara...!"

I tried to sit up and saw Mom sitting by the window, looking at her phone. Her head snapped up the moment she realized I was awake. She tossed her phone aside and rushed to my bedside.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and that's when I knew this wasn't a dream.

Even though I desperately wanted it to be.

"Bern, you're awake! Thank God!" she sobbed, her face a mixture of sadness and relief.

"Mom...! Sara...!" My voice came out choked, choked with fear and pain.

"You just woke up. It's okay now, sweetheart. Everything will be fine. Don't worry about anything."

But seeing Mom didn't make me feel safe. In fact, it made my fear worse. I was afraid for Sara.

"Where is Sara?! Mom, where is she?" I begged.

I kept hoping she was okay, maybe in the next room recovering.

"Sweetheart..." Mom took a deep breath. "She's gone."

Reality hit me like a smack in the face.

There was no way she could have survived that brutal attack, but Sara was strong. She should have made it. She should be alive.

I should've listened to her. We never should've taken that shortcut through the woods. I lost my best friend forever because of Maggie's stupid request.

Why? Why was I so stupid?!

"No... no..." I shook my head in disbelief. "It's my fault...! It's all my fault...!"

God, forgive me! Forgive me, Sara!

"Bern, please calm down. You're safe now. I promise you nothing will happen to you. Try to rest, okay?"

If I could go back in time, I would. Sara would still be here.

All I could do now was cry and drown in the regret that filled every inch of my chest.

The next day, the police visited the hospital to take my statement. I told them everything I remembered about the creature that attacked us. Me and Sara.

It wasn't a bear. I didn't know what it was. But it was huge, covered in fur, with sharp teeth and claws, and it moved insanely fast.

After that, what happened to us became the biggest story in our small town.

Reporters wanted my side of the story, but Mom wouldn't let them near me.

And the rumors got out of control. People said it wasn't a wild animal. Some even said Sara and I were drunk party girls who had illegally bought beer at the prom.

Total lies. Baseless rumors.

"Come on, Bern." Mom helped me out of the car and into the house.

The house was cold and empty. It was just me and Mom now.

Dad had moved away with his new family. Yeah, the woman who ruined our home and her newborn baby.

It crushed me when Dad betrayed us like that. But I got through it - because of Sara. Now Sara was gone. I even missed her funeral.

I wasn't a good friend to her, was I?

I'm just a cursed soul, no good to anyone.

"I made some soup before I picked you up," Mom said quietly, giving me a sympathetic look. Do you want me to heat it up?"

I shook my head weakly. "Maybe later."

"The doctor said your bandages need to be changed. I'll help you with it."

"Okay, Mom. I just want to rest first."

"All right, sweetheart."

I dragged myself upstairs and went straight to my room. A strange rotten smell hit me as soon as I opened the door.

"What is that smell?"

Then I saw it, my fish tank. The water was murky and disgusting. And swimming in it...

"Oh... God! Maxwell! Oh... God!"

Tears fell fast. Everything was crumbling.

It was as if God had decided that I didn't deserve a happy life. That I was put on this earth only to suffer.

*

Later that night, my body felt hot. It was itchy. Really itchy.

This wasn't a fever—no doctor ever said anything about this. I was sweating like crazy, especially on my back where the deep wounds had been.

"It's so itchy...oh God..." I groaned.

I thought it was the scabs healing. But wasn't it too soon for that? The wounds were deep. Yet I couldn't feel the pain anymore. That was… weird.

I reached for the bandage on my chest and slowly peeled it off.

Gone. The wounds were gone. Completely.

The claw marks were gone. Just a faint pink trace, like a shadow. That was it.

"What the...?"

I panicked, jumping out of bed, turning on the light, and running to the mirror.

I touched the skin—it was smooth.

"I have to tell Mom," I muttered.

But as I reached for the doorknob... I stopped.

This wound—this very deep wound—needed surgery to close. The doctors said it would take weeks to heal.

How could I explain this to my mother? She'd freak out.

"Oh my God... Mom can't know about this."

If she found out, I'd never get any peace. I needed answers, not more questions.

*

A knock at the door made me jump.

I quickly pulled on a hoodie and grabbed my backpack. When I opened the door, Mom was standing there.

"You're dressed already?" she asked in surprise. "Did you change your bandages?"

"Just now," I nodded, pointing to the trash can. "I can do it myself now."

I quickly led her out of my room, avoiding eye contact. I couldn't let Mom see my skin, not anymore.

I rushed to the kitchen, poured cereal into a bowl, added milk, and sat down to eat.

I planned to take the bus so I wouldn't have to talk too much.

The doctor actually gave me permission to rest at home for another two weeks. But what should I do at home when I already feel fine?

"Bern?"

Mom's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up, trying to act casual.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Are you sure you want to go to school? You're still recovering. Your wounds aren't completely healed."

I held my spoon nervously and nodded quickly. "I'm fine. Really! No worries, Mom."

She stared at me as if trying to see through me and sighed.

"The school gave you more time off for a reason," she said. "You're lucky to be alive with everything you've been through. I don't want you to push yourself too hard."

But staying home felt like dying slowly.

I had no one here.

Even if I didn't have Sara at school... at least there were people around. Life.

"Mom, I have to go. There's only a few months left. I have to prepare for college. If I even get in."

I gripped my spoon tighter. I didn't know why I was so nervous.

No, wait. I did know. I could feel something of Mom. Like... her aura. Wait, wait, wait. Wait, what? An aura?

But it was real. I could feel something about Mom. Something I'd never felt before.

"You'll get in, Bern. Don't worry," she said.

"Maybe I will. But Sara won't." My voice trembled again.

I shouldn't have mentioned Sara. She was gone. She was with God. But the regret in my chest was unbearable.

Sara and I should have gone to college together, maybe even joined the same sorority. Now, all that is gone.

"Bernice, don't say that. If Sara were alive, I know she'd want you to be calm. She wouldn't want you to worry," Mom said.

"Well, she's not alive."

"Sweetie pie… what happened to Sara was fate. No one could have stopped it. You can't fight fate."

I knew that. But the fact that I lived and she didn't, it didn't seem fair. She didn't even make it to 18.

"I'll drive you to school."

"I want to take the bus today."

I stood up and went to put my spoon on the table, but I gasped. The spoon was broken in half. I had no idea how it had happened.

I stuffed the broken spoon into my jacket pocket and grabbed my bag.

Once outside, I threw the spoon in the trash. I wasn't afraid of losing a spoon. I was afraid of why it broke.

What was happening to me?