Some Quiet Place

Rebecca James, Landon will think I’m forgetting him.”
    “If he’s watching, he knows that’s not possible. After all, even when you were under one of the strongest illusions I’ve ever encountered, you didn’t forget. Did you?” Courage steps away. He’s leaving soon. I can feel him gathering power around him.
    “Their world is frightening,” I whisper. “I don’t know if I can go back into it.”
    His words are so soft a mouse wouldn’t be able to hear them, but they waft over to me on the air. “As a wise human girl once told me, you fear what you don’t understand.”
    “Not human,” I correct.
    “Humanity is a choice, power or no power.”
    Opening my mouth, I spin to meet him, but Courage is somewhere else in the world, his business with me apparently finished.
    He always did have to have the last word.
    Life. It’s a funny thing. Some want it, some throw it away. Some cling to it, some have it stolen from them. It’s terrifying … which is maybe why I was drawn to Fear in the first place. It can’t be coincidence that we met and loved in both lifetimes. Rebecca James, Elizabeth Caldwell. He’s my match, my equal. And now, finally, I’m willing to admit what I want. Life. With him.
    The choice has been waiting ever since the illusion broke. When I was Elizabeth, Fear sought me out time and time again. We both know that it’s my turn. I can feel Landon in the back of my head, a kind presence in my shadow, urging me on. And the effects of Courage’s touch linger, strengthen, urge me to face my uncertainties. I can’t live in the past for the rest of my existence. Denial was right; my time to mourn is done. I’ll never forget my twin or what happened to him—that day will always be a dark shroud on my soul—but I can’t run from myself anymore.
    I do everything I can to bring Fear to me. First I sit in a chair, close my eyes, and remember the entire experience with Nightmare. His teeth, that shack, his knives, my blood spilling to the ground. And my mouth goes dry, my pulse quickens, but still nothing. Next, I go to town and rent some horror movies. Spend two hours watching bloodshed and teenage parties turn into carnage on the ancient television. It works; my palms sweat and it’s difficult to keep my eyes open. But he doesn’t come.
    I’m done with this.
    The door slams against the wall when I storm outside. My skirt flaps around my knees as I march toward the ocean, toward the perilous cliff edge. I hold out my arms on either side of me like I’m about to take flight, like I’m one of Sarah’s birds. I position my feet so that only my heels are touching solid ground. The rest of me feels the open air. Taking a breath, I look down. The ocean, sensing me so close, pounds against the rocks with renewed vigor. I am Life. I am the ocean.
    It doesn’t take him long.
    “What the hell are you doing?” Fear hisses, wrapping his hand around my arm. I’ve never heard him so livid.
    Terror explodes in my chest. I don’t turn, but I wrench myself free of his grip, ignoring how much I want it. “Are you going to let me talk this time?”
    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Fear’s black coat whipping against his boot. He moves close again, and I know he’s thinking about yanking me back. “Why are you doing this, Rebecca?” he asks, his voice low, so serious. Rebecca . Not Elizabeth. For a second I’m tempted to lose my nerve, I’m convinced that he doesn’t really love me anymore, I ruined everything.
    No . I steel myself. Even though I thought I was immune, I’ve been letting Fear’s essence control my every move. And it stops now.
    “I’m in love with you,” I blurt, glaring at the sun. “I’m in love with you, not Joshua, and it’s you I want to be with. I mean, I want to try. Again.” I clear my throat, blushing. I can’t bring myself to look at him. The words pound around us, carried in swirls by the wind. In love with you … not Joshua … try again …
    There’s a three-second silence as he processes this. Then he says, “Why don’t you step back from the ledge, and I’ll let you know what I think about that.”
    What if you’re too late? What if you’ve lost him? a niggling voice in the back of my head worries. The ocean calls to me: Life. Life . Yes , I think. I am . And I need to live. So I shuffle back.
    I raise my eyes to Fear’s, prepared for rejection, for phrases like too late and can’t work . He stares down at me for what feels like