The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

    Swan’s eye twitched slightly as she watched my reaction. I was surprisingly calm, although numb and in shock might be more appropriate terms. Over the last few days, my definitions for my life, the people in it, and reality in general had all been expanded and twisted to the point of ripping. I only had some remnant sanity left because I was trying to just roll with things as they came. Accept that I wasn’t in control and couldn’t take anything at face value. As the fog lifted from my brain, it became easier to accept that I wasn’t Theresa and that Jenna wasn’t my sister Sharon. But as dread and fear pooled into the vacancies left behind by that life and identity, I found myself pining for the simplicity of an evil father and his cult that wanted to kill me. At least that, as confusing and terrifying as it had been, made a kind of sense. But all of this? How could these people do everything they were doing? Just with a set of pills? ...

    I could feel the van behind us as we drove deeper into the wilderness. At first, I thought it was my imagination. I’d glance back and see the odd car in the distance, but nothing that looked like the old blue van I’d seen the day before or again just a few minutes earlier at the gas station. As the morning stretched on, I looked back less frequently, my mind slowly being consumed with the other worries and fears crowding each other for the spotlight. Was Dad crazy? Had he hurt Mom? Did they really have some weird secret life they’d kept from us? Or was Sharon lying or just wrong? Maybe she had misinterpreted some things or imagined parts of it. Maybe she really did have a problem with drugs or some kind of mental issue. She seemed fine overall, but how could I be sure when she was saying such crazy things? I glanced back again, the breath catching in my throat as I focused on a small blue speck in the distance. Was that i...

    It must be a joke, right? Some kind of sick, totally not funny, practical joke that Sharon was playing on me. Maybe even Dad was in on it, though that seemed very out of character for him. He was always either serious, laid back, or sweet. He was never much for jokes, and I couldn’t think of any time he’d ever tried to trick me. But why would she do that either? We’d had our fights over the years, but overall, we’d always been really close. And unlike a lot of big sisters, she had never really been mean to me or put me down. And I couldn’t really think of a time she’d ever lied to me about anything. Plus, this would have to be the worst timing ever. Mom on her way back to see Bethany, Sharon and Dad already having some weird disagreement about…well, I didn’t know. But whether it was about us not getting to see Mom last night or something else, it seemed like a bad time to pull a prank. I looked up at the profile of my father’s face....

    Fire has its own smell. Did you know that? I’m not talking about the smell of gasoline from the ruptured gas tank or the sickly sweet smell of people cooking. I don’t know how to describe it. But I don’t think it’s the smell of the air burning—not exactly. No, I think that fire itself—the consumer, not the consumed—has a smell all its own. I remember thinking that as the flames grew nearer on White Creek Bridge. That…and that I hoped I was the only one left alive. My father had been planning our family vacation for months. He worked as an aeronautical engineer, and aside from a couple of days at Christmas, he only got a chance to take off for vacation about once every three years. This year was extra special, however. He had blocked out two weeks for the four of us to go driving across the country. We weren’t taking an RV, and we were only planning on driving between Ohio and Nevada, but it was still further than I’d ever been and a...

    The patrol car drove up to the largest of the buildings, the brief flash of headlights across its face revealing what looked like a massive manor house that would have seemed more at home on an English countryside or in a Jane Austen movie than tucked away in a web-shrouded forest in northern California. Staring out the side window, I could see a thin but bright shaft of yellow light streaming out of the slightly ajar front doors, though there were still no signs of anyone else being anywhere around. I turned back to look at Ruby, but she was still silently weeping, apparently oblivious to the fact that we had stopped and the twins were now coming around to get us out. We were shuffled up the stone steps and through the front door. Once inside, I felt myself freeze for a moment—this place…what was this place? Not a police station. We were in what had probably been the front hall of a luxurious home or…well, whatever Greenheart Home actually wa...

    “What seems to be the trouble, Officer?” I winced internally as Ruby said the words, both because I knew from her tone that she was being sarcastic and because I still had this growing panic that something was really wrong here. There was this strange sense of unreality and fear that didn’t make sense given the situation. Yes, we had gotten pulled over by the police without knowing why, and yeah, it was pretty weird that they appeared to be twins. That’s enough to make you a little jumpy or apprehensive. But I was bathed in a cold sweat, and as I tried to give a casual smile and roll down my window at the second officer’s approach, I realized my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I winced as a beam of light hit my eyes. “How are you doing tonight, sir?” Turning away from the light, I nodded. “Doing fine, Officer. Just ready to get home.” The flashlight had been shifted so it was still glaring into my peripheral vision. “I s...