Fragments

"Amara!" Elena's voice rang out as soon as I stepped through the door, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Where were you last night?"

I stopped, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. I'd barely made it back home, my mind swirling with half-formed memories, fragments that didn't make sense. Damon… chains… his voice calling me. It was like pieces of a dream that slipped further away every time I tried to grab hold of them.

"I couldn't sleep," I mumbled, shrugging like it was no big deal. "I just… went for a walk."

Elena's gaze didn't soften. Instead, she exchanged a look with Jeremy, who was watching me like he was waiting for the punchline to a joke.

"In the middle of the night?" Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow. "You couldn't just read a book or something?"

"I needed some air," I replied quickly, feeling defensive. The truth was, I didn't have any answers—not for them and not even for myself. "I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Elena scoffed, frustration clear on her face. "Mara, you just… disappeared. You didn't answer your phone. You didn't leave a note. We didn't know if you were okay."

I looked down, guilt tugging at me. She was right. It was reckless, but something beyond me had driven me out there. And now that I was standing here, back in the light of day, the whole thing felt surreal.

Jeremy suddenly frowned, his eyes zeroing in on my neck. "What's that?"

I blinked. "What's what?"

"Those… mosquito bites or whatever." He pointed to the side of my neck.

My hand flew to the spot automatically, fingers brushing over two tender points. A cold chill settled over me as flashes of the night hit me again—the cool basement air, Damon's intense eyes, the sensation of… biting? No, it couldn't be. That would be insane.

"It's nothing," I said, my voice a little too quick, a little too shaky. "Probably just bug bites."

Elena didn't look convinced, but she sighed, letting it go—for now, at least. "Amara, just… let us know next time, okay? We worry about you."

I nodded, swallowing the unease in my throat. "I'm sorry. Really."

Elena softened, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "Just… don't scare us like that again."

I forced a small smile, but inside, I felt anything but calm.

—

The school day dragged, with everything feeling slightly out of focus. I couldn't shake the memory of last night, no matter how much I tried to convince myself it was just a bad dream. But as I walked through the hallways, hearing the familiar buzz of voices and laughter around me, the strange, foggy feelings started to fade. For a few hours, I was just Amara Gilbert again—a regular high school student dealing with regular high school drama.

Then Bonnie showed up near the end of the day, her eyes bright with excitement as she caught up to me in the hallway.

"Hey, sleepover tonight?" she asked, a hopeful smile lighting up her face. "I need a break from all this homework, and my gram's on a cleaning rampage. Figured I could hide out at your place."

I laughed, feeling some of the tension slip away. "Definitely. I could use some distraction too."

"Great! I'll bring snacks and all my gram's ridiculous ghost stories." She winked, her smile playful. "Though she swears they're real."

I raised an eyebrow, amused. Bonnie's grandmother had always been a little eccentric, and lately, it seemed like she was sharing some of her beliefs with Bonnie. But Bonnie didn't actually believe in any of it… right?

"Ghost stories, huh?" I teased. "I'm ready to be spooked."

She nudged me with her shoulder, her laughter easing the lingering fog in my mind. "Just you wait."

That night, Bonnie arrived with a duffel bag filled with blankets, snacks, and a few old leather-bound books her grandma had given her. We set up a cozy camp in the living room, surrounded by pillows and bowls of popcorn, our phones forgotten as we chatted and laughed.

"So," Bonnie began, flipping through one of the books, "my grandma's been on this whole 'you have powers' kick lately. Apparently, she thinks I'm some kind of… psychic or something."

I snorted, popping a handful of popcorn in my mouth. "And you're buying it?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "No, but it's kind of fun to humor her. She's convinced I can 'sense energies' or whatever. Last week, she made me light a candle with my mind."

I burst out laughing. "And? Did you do it?"

"Shockingly, no," she said dryly, her smile teasing. "But she keeps giving me these 'exercises' to help me 'tune into my powers.' Like meditating and concentrating on objects."

I shook my head, grinning. "At least it's entertaining."

Bonnie laughed, but then her gaze turned thoughtful. "Actually… there's something she taught me that's supposed to help with, like… clarity. To see things that are hidden or repressed. Do you want to try it?"

I hesitated, a flicker of doubt stirring inside me. After last night, part of me was desperate for some kind of explanation. But the other part of me was afraid of what I might find.

"How does it work?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.

Bonnie shrugged, flipping to a page in the book. "It's kind of like meditation. She said it can help bring out things we don't remember—like forgotten memories or buried thoughts."

I chewed my lip, considering. "You really think it could work?"

"I mean, who knows?" she replied, shrugging. "It's probably just a way to relax. But it could be fun, right?"

I glanced at her, then nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."

Bonnie grinned, turning the lights down low. She took out a small candle from her bag and set it between us, lighting it with a match.

"Okay," she said softly, her voice taking on a calm, almost hypnotic tone. "Just close your eyes and focus on the flame. Try to clear your mind and let anything that wants to come through… come through."

I closed my eyes, feeling a little ridiculous but willing to give it a shot. I focused on the soft flicker of the candlelight, letting Bonnie's words wash over me.

For a moment, there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the house, the steady rhythm of my breathing, the faint scent of wax from the candle. But then, slowly, images began to drift into my mind.

A basement, shadows clinging to the walls. Damon's face, his eyes intense and dark. Chains clinking softly as he leaned closer, his voice a whisper against my skin. Amara… you're different.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I forced myself to keep breathing, to stay calm as the images flickered in and out, like scenes from a half-forgotten dream. I felt the cool press of metal against my skin, the warmth of his hand, the strange, aching feeling of something missing, something I couldn't quite place.

Then there was a flash—sharp and vivid. Damon's mouth pressed to my neck, the sudden, strange thrill that raced through me, a moment of pain mixed with… something else. I gasped, my eyes flying open, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

"Amara?" Bonnie's voice was soft, concerned. She placed a hand on my arm, her brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

I forced myself to take a deep breath, nodding even as my mind spun with confusion. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. Just… felt a little weird."

Bonnie watched me, her expression serious. "Did you see anything?"

I hesitated, unsure if I should tell her. The memories felt strange, unreal, like fragments of a dream I couldn't quite trust. But there was a part of me that wanted to share, to have someone help me make sense of it.

"Just… bits and pieces," I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't know what it means."

Bonnie squeezed my hand, her gaze warm and reassuring. "Hey, whatever it is, I'm here, okay? You're not alone in this."

I managed a small smile, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Bonnie."

"Of course," she replied, her smile gentle. "That's what best friends are for."

As we settled back into our makeshift fort, the candle casting soft shadows across the room, I felt a strange sense of calm. For the first time all day, I wasn't alone with my confusion and fear. Bonnie was here, and somehow, I knew she'd help me find the answers—even if neither of us fully understood the questions yet.