Windows

“Olivia is not well enough to leave behind—if she remains here she undoubtedly will be imprisoned, a fate she does not deserve," Philippe shouted to the assembled group, over the roar of the car engine.  "We will have to bring her with us.”  He turned to Kitty.  “You, however, must remain.  Your mother will be kindly treated by my people, so you need not worry.  Our agents here will help you to create a new identity and begin a new life.”

“So much for soul mates,” she snorted, but Philippe furiously returned, “I would come back for you as soon as possible.”

Kitty shook her head.  “No.  Just  no.  I’m going—where to, I have no idea, but I’m going, so stop trying to talk me out of it.  I’m not going to let whoever wants to kill me just hunt me down like a dog.  Aunt Jessica should stay, though.”

“You can’t leave me here!” Aunt Jessica protested.  “How on earth am I supposed to explain everything that happened?  They might even think I did it!”

“She has a point,” Eric put in.  “It might be better for Olivia as well, to have her sister near.”

When Aunt Jessica nodded her agreement, Philippe argued, “But you do not understand…if you come with us, you will never be able to return!”

“Sounds good to me,” Aunt Jessica answered.  Frowning, Philippe said to Kitty, “You must remain here—that is beyond argument.  As for your family, this is not a decision I feel able to make on their behalf.”

“Then I’ll make it!” Kitty said, and floored the gas pedal.  Philippe dove for the steering wheel, but it was too late: Kitty had steered the car straight into the shimmering window.

*From my upcoming YA series, A Window to the World

Aftermath

The telling has no place here

this place is green from the rain

nothing gagged and nothing bit down

he convinced me to tell he does not know my name

there is no turning back

After the war

“You cannot attempt the passage again,” the King said.  “We have reason to fear it could kill you.  You must stay in the Exterior.”

“But-”

“You are needed here.  This is where you belong."  

There was a long pause in which Kitty struggled violently with herself.  Not until the King insisted, “Kitty, please,” did she whisper, “All right.”

“Thank you.  It is for the best.”

Kitty wasn’t so sure about that.  But just as she meant to tell him all of the things she’d been holding back for years now, another blurry form appeared in the room.  “Leo!” Kitty exclaimed.   “I'm so glad to see you!”

“And you, Miss Katharine," the King's guard answered.  "I am grateful you are well.”

“You weren’t hurt in the battle, were you?”

“No, indeed not," he assured her, and took a step closer.  "I hope you will not think me too forward, Miss Katharine, but there is something I wish to say to you.”

Kitty waited expectantly.

“Come back with us.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Come back with us,” Leo repeated.  “You belong in our world as much as you belong here.”

Kitty looked over at the King, but he remained silent.  Leo could not know what the King had just told Kitty.

“There is no need for you to stay in this world,” Leo continued.  “You would miss nothing.  Your mother is beyond your reach, and your brother is resilient.  They would tolerate your loss much better than we here who know you would.”

Kitty thought of how her mother had sobbed after her father and brother died, and of how frightened Jack had been when Kitty disappeared a year ago.   “I don’t know if that’s true,” she said carefully.   “But even if it is, I think I should stay here.”

“In our world you would be adored.”

With a faint smile Kitty replied, "I don’t really have the right temperament to be adored.  But thank you very much for the offer.”

*From my upcoming YA novel, A Window to the World

Midnight

Where will the night train take me?

So many trains

all leading to distant December destinations

crammed full of strangers breathing

clouds against the windows’ glass

as they exhale their expectations

            Convinced we knew the future from what was

            afraid to confront the past in

            what we had

            become

But for the desperate promise to find a summer unknown

we dismantled the track that would lead us back

home

            No one remembered the snowstorm in

            the mountains

            how we yearned to crash

            to ride this shivering disappointment

            right down to its

            final gasp

When all aboard ride the night train alone

mark the passing of the time with the

falling of the

snow

No use in unpacking for tomorrow    

tomorrow is a thousand midnight

dreams of color

away

            Engines powered by

            frost-covered anticipation

            the eternal steel of millions of tracks

            rusting into the most elusive of

            destinations

only to find ourselves here once again

Where will the night train take me?

this I learned never to ask

            not with so many trains all

            vacating this station

            with so many tracks, less one, left for me—

            the one you have taken

Darkness

huddled in a corner

hunted by sun

too much for the moon

to overcome

Yesterday and yesterday

She has a memory.  One beautiful memory.  Carefully held in the palm of her hands, so that no one else might find it and steal it.  She must leave it nowhere.  It must always remain with her.  The memory of that one summer morning, while they still slept.  The pavement of the driveway cool on her bare feet as she stepped into the shadow cast by the huge Mountain Ash in the front yard, the sun burning golden at the edges.  No one must have this moment.  This moment must never be touched.

Because she must hold it so close and so carefully, she cannot hold onto any others.  She lets the pictures framed in broken glass fall through her fingers.  There must only be one world.  One world, underneath the tree, where no one else exists.  Let the others sleep.  Let them all sleep.  She is a girl standing in the shadow of a golden halo.  She must never step out.  She must live here forever.

Shadows

I shivered, walked past the knives

only to be stabbed a thousand more times