The Other Side

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?


14. Chapter 6.1. Part 2



“That exam was a nightmare! How was I supposed to know Media Studies was so hard?” exclaimed Georgia melodramatically, rolling on top of me to get to her side of the bed. “I ain’t apologising for nothing.”



I sat on her bed, my feet dangling over the side.



“I don't know, Ms Clark. Maybe you should have studied harder,” I suggested.



She swatted me, casting me one of her mean-girl looks. “Ouch. Harsh, beyotch! Not everyone’s a genius like you,” she muttered.



“Sorry,” I said.



Twat,” she said dismissively and returned to painting her nails.



I grinned faintly, glad that Georgia was back to her normal self. Since yesterday, she had been acting strangely. Not her normal, open way. I think she was ashamed, feeling guilty that she wasn’t the first one there for me when I needed her the most. Hating herself because if she had stayed for only a few more hours at my house yesterday, she might have noticed the fire first.


Downstairs I could hear her parents fighting. Screaming at each other from the top of their lungs, making me wince.


Georgia continued to paint her nails, humming to herself like she was oblivious to her surroundings.


I felt myself being pushed down softly into a trance. Along with Georgia’s soft humming, my mind replayed the symphony of I Giorni. Somehow, the relentless arguing from her parents downstairs made me nostalgic for my own home. I longed to revisit it. To tighten my arms around my mother’s burnt clothes, to cry before their wedding pictures.


My eyes were already shut, and each and every passing image was painted brightly in my mind. As I fell asleep, I thought of a very special day, about two years ago, when we all went out to the beach in the rain…the rain…pattering down on the umbrella as we walked along the rocky shore...


The boy from my dreams sat opposite me under the blossoming tree. Rain pattered around us in the evening sky, leaving our cosy little area dry and untouched. His hand was on mine as I snuggled in close to him. Where I was cold, I found warmth in him. His hands were soft, his breathing was low. And so was mine.


“They won’t approve of us being together,” The words were not my own, but my mouth was moving.


He lifted his chin and looked me in my eyes. His dark and stormy green eyes, I felt, could destroy me in just one glance. But with him, I felt like I was in the eye of a storm, being the one he loved above all else, I was, in an eternity with him, protected.


I quickly looked away.


“I don’t think we should see each other,” I choked, feeling like I was coughing up poison. Each word was an enemy of my true emotions, my heart was wearing a mask.


“Ella,” he said, pulling away. “No force from this world can pull us apart. I belong to you.”


“No, it’s just...,” I said, shifting uncomfortably away from him, “It’s not the way things are meant to be. We have to stop this.”


He reached towards me. “You know I can’t.”


“We have to. You have to let me go!” I cried, standing up and turning away from him. Each one of my limbs felt like they had strings attached. I forced myself off my feet, like a puppet disregarding its master. My own heart strings had been ripped from the soul it had fallen for.


I promised I would never see him again. As long as I could. As long as my heart could bear it…

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