The Other Side: Exiled

For her, it was the fire.

For him, it was the voices.

Ella and Kade. They thought they were safe. That they were normal. They were totally unaware of one another's presence until fate had to draw them together.

In each other's eyes they are strangers. But in another reality they are more than friends.

It's just too bad they can't remember any of it.

Now they both face an impending doom from group of powerful people trying to kill them. At the same time trying to figure out what got them into this mess in first place.

But the answer may prove to be more terrifying than the question.

Who are they?


9. Chapter 4. Part 2



She told me to call her Deb, but I didn’t. I called her Miss Malone, just like everyone else. She was a tall and slender lady, with a warm smile on her face and attractive crinkles on the side of her eyes every time she laughed.


But today was not the day to laugh. Smile, even.


She awkwardly brushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and returned her arms to their resting position. The red cat-like glasses that had slid down her nose were quickly nudged back up with her manicured hands.


I looked down at my cracked, bruised ones.


“Ella, dear. You have to say something,” she said softly, creases of worry lined her face.


I continued to stare at my hands. The same as the rest of me. Damaged, bruised, bleeding.


Miss Malone had invited Georgia over to help me through the counselling session. Now that both of my parents were dead, I was the only one left to go through the grief of losing them. Georgia sat down silently next to me, afraid to touch me like Miss Malone had done earlier. That had not gone down well.


They expected me to be crying, to be sad, and to be breaking down and comforted by others.


Instead, all I felt was emptiness.


I didn’t want a shoulder to cry on.


I didn’t want to be helped.


I certainly didn’t want Miss Malone talking about funeral arrangements with me.


“I know that this situation is hard for you,” Miss Malone said, “but sometimes talking about the end of life can be the best way to deal with these things. Perhaps by doing this, we can make the funeral process a more enjoyable….”


Why am I even here?


“Excuse me, can I please go to school? I have an exam today,” I said impatiently, getting up. I took Georgia’s hand and walked out of the room without waiting for a response.


“Ella?” Georgia pleaded.


Part of me wanted to desperately hear what Georgia had to say. She was my only friend. The other part of me just didn’t want to listen to any of it. She was probably just going to say what everyone had been saying over the past six hours.


Are you alright?

I’m clearly not.


I’m sorry

Why? You didn’t do anything.


I don’t know what to say

Then please, don’t say anything at all.



“You don’t have to do the exam if you don’t want,” she said.


I continued walking, once outside of the building and on the way to school. I didn’t have anything to take with me. All my clothes had been burned so Georgia had lent me hers.


“I have to. It’s the only way I’ll get into UCL.”


“Sorry to rain over your sunshine, darling. Chances that are if you do the exam in this condition, you’ll fail.”


She pulled on me, forcing me into a staggering stop.


“And besides, you need time to grieve, Ells. Come on. They’re not going to make you take the exam. It would be pathetic.”


“Pathetic, yeah. But I’m trying my best to get through this, okay?” I said in a raspy voice.


“Sure. Alright. Let’s get our exams done. We’ll talk about this stuff later then.” Georgia said, quickly reverting back to her normal self as if she didn’t just have a minor argument with her best friend.


That was the thing about Georgia. She let things go. She’d learned that a long time ago when her parents had first started fighting. Conflicted environments were normal to her.


I turned away from her and walked briskly down the road on the way to school.


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