CHAPTER 46

She broke into a jog, and immediately noticed that the definition of the building changed as she grew closer. The building painted onto the wall appeared to stretch and distort toward her, suddenly becoming real. Beth looked back over her shoulder to see Janine and a younger version of herself painted on the soccer field. Both of them were crying and holding each other.

It was like the island, only now she was the light. Was it the same way for Oliver? Was he running toward a picture of her right now, just waiting for it to become three-dimensional?

The middle school was built of brick with large glass windows. She couldn't quite see through the glass, but the interior looked like it was painted on as well.

Pulling on the door, she stepped inside and froze. There were dozens of versions of herself running around, all of them different ages.

Curious, she picked one to follow. It was the sixth grade version of her, and she was running to her locker with her hand over her mouth. Once Beth drew close, the little girl disappeared and Beth now wore her outfit.

Something was in her hand. It was a piece of paper, and she lifted it to reveal that the writing was obscure, but the large red F on the page was not.

"Oh." She remembered this. It had been a book report, and while everyone else had chosen things like The Babysitter Club, she had written a full report on a book she had found under her mother's bed. The title was long lost to her, but she remembered getting in trouble for writing a report on smut.

In-school detention, followed by a meeting with her parents, she thought her life had been over.

Moving through the halls, she tried to dig up some more memories of her childhood to confirm her theory. She turned the corner of the hallway and saw another version of herself in a white dress walking sideways toward the front door, the wall to her back while Janine ran ahead to open the door.

"Awesome." These weren't just regular memories, but were some of her most intense ones. Janine had helped her get home without the rest of the school knowing she had bled through her dress.

Home.

How many memories did she have there? Could Oliver see all of her memories? Maybe it made sense to surround herself with copies of herself, but she would need to find some that were a bit older in order to make that happen.

She caught up to Janine, and her outfit changed into a school appropriate white dress. When they ran outside, there was a large perspective shift. Instead of the two mile walk to her house, it had been shortened to a couple hundred feet, the entire walk squished down onto a pair of distant panels. If she moved toward the wall, the world expanded just a bit. Were her memories being compressed? On some level, it made sense.

Upon reaching her house, she came to a stop. Janine vanished into the cacophony of Beths of various ages that spiraled around the house. She had grown up in only one house, and it was strange to see hundreds of versions of her parents standing nearby.

"I need the older ones," she said, moving across the front yard.

Her outfit shifted several dozens of times as she overlapped and became the different versions of herself. Each Beth was printed on a transparent film, and the more she focused, the more of them flipped away like pages in a book, vanishing from view. Little Beths no longer rode their bikes, or tried to skateboard for the first (and last) time, and several memories of Janine vanished as well.

"C'mon, c'mon." Here was a teenage version of herself screaming at her mother. An older teen holding a college acceptance letter. Her dad chewing out a boy on the front porch for bringing her home late while she cowered behind the door.

The home held so many memories, and she tried to concentrate on specific ones. Visits from college, or beyond. When was the last time she had gone to see her parents? She was always working these days, and now she wondered how much they missed her.

Once inside the house, she took a quick look around the living room. Sleepovers, baking cookies with mom, doing math homework with Dad. Seeing her parents when they were young tugged at her heartstrings, and she got caught up watching her parents chase a seven year old Beth around the living room couch.

"Focus," she growled through her teeth, and several of the phantoms vanished. She wandered through the house, wondering if she should try and find a more recent memory to hide inside of. But where? She had followed herself here, maybe she could follow an older version out?

The world buzzed, and she looked out the front window of the house. On the painted wall in the distance was a dark splotch that was slowly growing wider.

Of course. Nobody in the world knew her better than Oliver had. The demon had been inside her head, watching and waiting. Undoubtedly, he would look for her where she was most likely to hide, and it wouldn't be long before he was here.

Could Oliver predict her next moves? He had been able to read her mind, after all. Could he still read it, even now?

"Shit!" If he could, it didn't matter where she went. Then again, wouldn't he have caught her much sooner?

She needed to make an unpredictable move. He knew she would try to hide in one of her own memories if he drew near, but which one?

Out front, she saw herself get into a car loaded with boxes and back down the driveway with her dad at the wheel. That was moving day. They had stopped for lunch at a barbecue place, and he had reminded her that college could be fun and amazing, but to never lose sight of what was important.

Another car backed out of the driveway, a fifteen year old Beth clutching the wheel nervously. It was her first driving lesson, and her mom was already frazzled because Beth had already pulled forward into the trash cans on accident.