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of me, something soul deep and certain, knew what he was experiencing and that it was real.  I felt it, too.  There was something important and intense between us.  And there always would be.  Whether we were together or apart, it would never go away. I also knew that, together or apart, it would very nearly kill us and that we’d never be the same.
    “Brady, something has happened to us.  You have to believe me.”
    I searched desperately through the new information in my mind for something, anything that I could use to help him believe, to make him believe.  But there was nothing.  I closed my eyes, concentrating even harder, when hazy images began to flit through my head, creatures of varieties I’d never seen or heard tell of, not even in the movies.  Their visages were diverse, some hideous and some beautiful.  But something about each was terrifying, as if there was a darkness inside them that was rising to the surface to take over all that which was good and light.
    As I struggled to wrap my mind around what I was seeing, a raspy, feminine voice whispered in my ear, “See,” and then it was gone.  And so was the light.  And sound.  And consciousness.
     
     
     

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Sundays were church days.  Although Julia had never made Brady and me attend church, we’d decided long ago that it was something we needed to do, so we did.  Simple as that.  When I woke, as memories from the night before began to rush back into my mind, the need to get myself onto holy ground was nearly overwhelming. 
    I was lying in bed pondering the increasing urgency of that need when Brady burst into my room.
    “Get up, sleepy head!  We’ve got to clean the house before the party,” he said, walking to the bed to fling back the covers just as he’d done the day before.  He took me by one wrist and one ankle and hauled me from the bed to deposit me in the floor where he left me while he began stripping the sheets off my mattress.  “I’ll do laundry if you’ll clean the bathrooms.”
    Stunned and confused, I sat in the floor watching my brother ball up my sheets and head toward the door with them.  It was exactly what he’d said and done the day before.  Saturday, the morning of our party. 
    Yesterday. 
    “The party?” I asked, struggling to understand what was happening.
    Brady stopped in the doorway and turned to look at me as though I was a small, silly child.  “I know that, despite your ridiculous ability to tune things out, there is no possible way you could’ve forgotten that we are having one monster blowout birthday bash tonight.  Not possible.”
    His words claimed it wasn’t possible, but his expression showed an exasperation that said he was pretty sure it was entirely possible.  I really did have a tendency to not pay attention sometimes.
    “The party was last night.  Remember?”
    “What are you babbling about, woman?  The party’s tonight.  And it’s gonna be epic!”
    “Brady, stop screwing around.  I’m not in the mood.”
    Brady frowned at me for several seconds before his face broke into a smile.  “Oh, I see.  You’re still trying to punk me.  How many times do I have to tell you that you’ll never get me?  I’m too good, P.  Give it up.”
    “But Brady, I’m not—”
    “Not gonna happen.  And if this is your way of getting out of cleaning the bathrooms, nice try.  Now get moving!”
    With that, Brady turned and left my bedroom, my pale yellow sheets tucked up under his arm.
    Pale yellow?
     I thought back through my memories of the previous morning and realized that my sheets had been pale yellow when Brady had carried them from my room the first time.  And, if memory served, he would come back in a few minutes and replace them with my favorite light green ones, saying that it was my turn to use them.
    Still more than a little confused, I sat in the floor, exactly where he’d left me, and I watched the door and waited for Brady to return.