GWENDOLYN
"What happened?" Aunt Ari asks, alarmed, as she and grandmother come rushing in. She rushed to my side, as grandmother hovers at the door.
"I stomped my foot," I lied.
"Ohh, sweetie, are you okay?" she asked, looking very worried.
Grandmother doesn't say anything the whole time she was there. She only looked around, then left. I wasn't sure what she saw, or didn't see, or if she smelt River's fear — if he had any — and I was worried about what it was she saw.
I tried to sleep and ignore whatever River said, but I couldn't. I wasn't stupid — I could feel grandmother and Aunt getting restless this week, and my flares brought a more solemn atmosphere. Aunt reduced her trips to town. I knew whatever was happening had something to do with me, and I may be upset at his insinuating that I am a witch, but I couldn't fault him — especially after he came here. So I decide I need to help him. Maybe I could get some answers about what I am.
I wasn't sure if I should go to him this night, but I found my body made the choice before I did. I found myself walking toward my wardrobe. I grabbed my coat, and then I find myself in the parking lot of the hospital. I feel the pulsing of the mark on my hand, and I followed the tugging feeling, till I found him sitting on the curb with his head on his knees, and his eyes closed.
"Where is he?" I asked, startling him. He takes a sharp inhale, rearing back, which caused him to try and stabilize himself, but he couldn't do much, so he was lying on the ground, looking up at me. It was funny.
"You can't do that to people," he half-yells, trying to sit up.
"Do what?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Sneak up on them."
"Oh — where is your friend?"
"Why?" he asked skeptically. It seems our last encounter has given him doubts.
"Do you want my help or not?"
"Of course I do. I want my uncle back."
"Well then, let's go," I said, and he starts walking.
"What are you going to do? Does this mean you have nothing to do with the campers going missing?" He fires one question after another.
"Are you always this talkative?" I asked, and he blushes in embarrassment. I didn't mean to embarrass him, but the blush was endearing to look at.
We fell into step with each other and were quiet, as he smuggled me in, because visiting hours were over. Sammy was asleep when we got into his room. The other camper — I saw nothing but confusion and wisps of shadow, but I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure how I knew what to do, but I did. I held his hand, and I saw it: him speaking with his girlfriend, then it getting too quiet, him stepping out, and he saw the monster, and their shadows turning against him. What concerned me more was the shadow — it's just like the one from my nightmare.
"You should rest now," I whisper, and smoothen the creases on Sammy's eyebrows.
"Do you know where my uncle is? Or what took them?" he asks, before I could comment. The door opens, and in walk two women and a man — older, the man was in hospital wear.
"River, what are you doing—" the woman starts, but stops when she sees me. "Hello, you are?" she asked.
"Hello, I am Gwendolyn, a friend of River's. I just wanted to check up on him," I explain, and the woman smiles.
"Thank you for looking out for him," the other woman said.
"It's no hassle. It's getting late — it's going to be alright." I smile at the woman I believe is River's aunt. Then I hug her. I don't need much to wield, calming their emotions.
As I stepped out, I walked into the shadow of the man, and it's like I am face to face with my nightmare.
It purrs, then says, "Hello, Gwendolyn." I physically jerk back, then rush out, River behind me, trying to know what's wrong.
"Talk to me," he demands, holding on to my shoulder.
"That thing — I have seen it in my dreams. I didn't think it was real."
"I don't understand. The thing that took my uncle?"
"Yes. And the thing that walked in with your aunt."
"What?!"
"That wasn't mortal. I am not sure what it was, but—"
"Hold on. I don't follow. You're telling me Uncle Ben isn't Uncle Ben, but some monster?"
"Yes."
"I don't believe this," he says, in disbelief.
"I am not lying. The truth you asked for, my help, and now you don't want to believe me?"
"How can you expect me to believe that? I just want my family back together."
"I will show you." I wasn't even sure why I wanted him to believe me that much, but I took his hand and had our foreheads touch, and he saw it. I know he did, because of how he pulled back, staring.
"How? What do I do? Are they alright?"
"I don't know for sure, but I don't believe they are dead."
"Do I need to do something to protect them?"
"I don't know. But take this." I say, handing him my necklace. Grandmother had me wear it — she always said it would keep the shadows away, and I suspect it held true, to some point.