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“What are you talking about?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. “You’re alive! You’re talking to me!” I didn’t even try to hide the excitement that I felt. I knew it was just dripping from my voice, and it had to be written all over my face. Was I insane? Was I just imagining this all? It didn’t feel like I was, but the alternative seemed too good to be true.
“Felly, no. I’m dead,” Scarlett said, and I could feel my eyes light up. I was positive that the girl who stood in front of me was my sister. She’d always called me ‘Felly’ when she was trying to get on my nerves when we were kids.
I shook my head again. The tears began to build up behind my eyes as I wondered why my sister was lying to me. Did she want me to think I was crazy? Why wasn’t she happy to see me after all these years?
“No,” I managed to choke out. “You’re alive. You’re just confused. We can get you help.”
“I think you’re the one who’s confused,” a voice spoke up. Glancing away from my sister, I noticed that the girl with ebony hair and mocha-colored skin had stood up. She was now staring at me intently, and I couldn’t get a sense of whether the look in her light brown eyes was friendly. They just looked kind of hollow.
“Your sister is dead,” the mocha-skinned girl said. “D-E-A-D.”
“But so are you,” the dark-haired girl with porcelain skin whispered, looking down at the ground timidly.
“Gabby, shut up,” Scarlett hissed. Turning back to look at me, my sister said, “Felicia, just leave us alone, okay? Forget that you ever saw me. Just go back to living your life the way you were before you saw me.”
I shook my head. “Living my life the way I was before I saw you? I deserve an explanation. Did you run away from home when we were little? Are you afraid you’ll get in trouble or something?” When my sister just stared back at me, an expressionless look in her eyes, and didn’t say anything, I blurted out, “Actually, don’t tell me if you don’t want to. We have plenty of time for that later. Just come home with me. Gram will be so excited to see you.”
“Gram?” Scarlett’s eyes lit up and for a moment, I was sure that I had gotten my sister back. But just as quickly as the look had filled her eyes, it was gone, and her stony exterior had returned. “Leave. It’s what’s best for you.”
“No.” As if to make a point to her, I sat down on one of the rocks and crossed my legs. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The mocha-skinned girl let out an exhausted sigh. “Just tell her, Scar. No one was around to protect any of us when it happened. Stop trying to be brave for your sister. She’s dead, whether you like it or not. You should at least explain it all to the girl.”
“Why do you all keep saying I’m dead?” Were these girls on drugs? Maybe that’s what had happened to my sister. She’d been kidnapped and was forced into a life of drugs and prostitution or something. Or maybe she had been forced to join a cult where the leaders had brainwashed them into believing that they were dead . . . and that I was dead, and that everybody in the world was dead.
Scarlett looked at me, and once again, I couldn’t read her eyes. My sister, who I had once been able to have full conversations with through eye contact alone, was completely unreadable.
Finally, she glanced over at the mocha-skinned girl before turning to me. “Jasmine’s right. You need to know the truth about us, Felicia.” She took a deep breath. “Have you noticed any differences in yourself lately?”
I thought about it. The only thing that was different about me lately was the sleepwalking, but I had come to the conclusion that the shock of seeing Scarlett could have caused that—I had been stressed out ever since. “No, I’m not any different,” I replied, shaking my head.
Scarlett’s expression didn’t change, but somehow, I knew that she didn’t believe me. Maybe it was because I didn’t even have myself convinced.
“Have you noticed that you’re not hungry lately?” Scarlett asked. “Like you suddenly have no appetite at all?”
I nodded.
“And when you do eat, it tastes funny . . . like something’s off?” Scarlett pressed.
I thought back to the jelly donut I’d eaten before work the other day. It had definitely tasted off. “Yes,” I replied quietly, nodding in agreement.
“And have you noticed that water tends to want to avoid your body? No matter what, you’re always dry the second you step out of the shower or the pool.”
I felt my eyes widen as I nodded. How could Scarlett possibly know this about me? This had to be some sort of joke. Or maybe I was dreaming again. That was it. I was dreaming, and I was going to wake up any minute now.
To see if that were the truth, I pinched myself . . . hard. And it hurt. I wasn’t dreaming. I was very much awake. This was too weird.
“All of that is because you’re a siren.”