Here’s the next part! (Sorry, it’s a longer piece) Enjoy and please comment your thoughts!! 🙂

*note You can find the first part here and the next part (VI) here.

The girl was maybe around six. She had light brown hair braided into two braids, showing off her strong jaw line. Her green eyes stared at mine, cutting into my soul as if they were daggers.

“Help me,” she said, extending her hand as if she could push her way out of the glass.

I studied her hand. It looked as if she actually was coming through the glass. I examined her hand even more closely and found a cut on her finger that matched mine exactly.

“W-who are you?” I stammered.

“I’m Clara. Please, help me,” she responded. Clara extended her hand as far as she could.

I reached for her small hand, but found nothing but glass. “I can’t reach you!”

“Please, you have to help me,” she called again.

I pushed as hard as I could trying to get through the glass. I even recalled in some books where they had to push softly, but when I tried it, nothing happened. “I’m so, so sorry, but I just can’t.” Tears came to my eyes. Even though I didn’t know this girl in the slightest, but she looked so desperate, her eyes big and pleading.

“They’re after me,” Clara said, desperation in her voice.

“Who’s after you?” I asked, trying to understand.

She looked down at her chest where a small vial full of a reddish liquid hung. She looked back up at me, then closed her eyes. In her hand she squeezed the vial so hard that it shattered. Pain was evident on this little girl’s face, yet she made no noise. She opened her hand, revealing puncture wounds and cuts from the glass.

Her eyes opened and she looked directly at mine. “Use it wisely. And when you can, save me and my world.” She looked behind her as if she heard something. Looking back at me she whispered, “I don’t want to die.”

“I won’t let you,” I said. Though I knew I could do nothing to protect her.

Clara started to fade, along with the black background. Her piercing eyes were the last to go. Panic was evident on her face.

“No!” I cried. “I’ll help you in whatever way I can!”

“I’ll remember that,” her voice whispered, then the mirror cleared completely.

“No, Clara! Come back!”

When I realized that she was gone for good, I collapsed onto the floor, staring at my finger’s cut that matched her’s. As I was staring, I noticed a vial hanging at my own chest. A vial identical to Clara’s.

I held it in my hand, unsure how it got there. Then I remembered her words, ‘use it wisely.’ What could she have meant by that?

As I was pondering these thoughts, I felt my hand squeeze the glass. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. I even tried to pry away my fingers with my other hand.

“Oh no,” I whispered as I felt the glass beginning to crack.

With a high pitched noise, the vial shattered. I groaned in pain as the glass dug into my skin. The liquid splashed onto my open wounds. I squeezed my eyes shut. It stung, causing the worst pain I had ever felt. A sizzling noise came from my hand and I opened my eyes just long enough to see the unknown liquid mix with my blood. They bubbled when they mixed, raising a foul smelling odor.

I laid down away from the glass, gritting my teeth to keep myself from crying out in pain. I curled into a ball, wishing the pain to go away. Moments later my wish came true. Though it still stung like crazy, a majority of the pain had subsided.

After what felt like an hour, I felt ready to get up. I was still shaken, but figured that I needed to go apologize to Alice.

I got up and walked to the door, now open. I went to Alice’s room and used my non-injured hand to knock on her door.

“Yeah?” she asked. “Who is it?”

“It’s Sawyer.”

“Oh.”

“Can I come in?” I asked meekly.

She hesitated for a moment. “I guess.”

I opened the door and stepped inside. Alice was laying on her bed, a book in her hands.

“Listen. I’m sorry I said what I did. Truthfully, I didn’t even know that I said it. Still friends?”

Alice laid down her book, sat up, and looked at me. “We’re cousins. We’re always going to be friends, whether we like it or not.” She got up and walked towards me. “Oh my goodness! Sawyer, what on earth happened to your hand!”

I lifted my hand. It didn’t hurt near as much as it had, but it looked awful. Blood was smeared all over, I had cuts covering my palm and fingers, and the liquid had left a yellowish residue.

“Truth be told, I’m not quite sure,” I admitted.

“Does it hurt?” Alice asked, panic in her voice.

I hesitated. “Yeah. But not close to as much as it did.”

“You should go to the doctor,” Alice told me. “Dad is working today, so maybe we can catch him on his shift.”

“We don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m taking you and that’s final.”

“You do remember that you can’t drive?” The pain was now coming back more and more with each word.

“Well then Johnny can drive us. Jack can look after the little kids, this is an emergency,” Alice insisted.

I didn’t argue as Alice pulled me along by my good hand. We went downstairs where we found Jack and Johnny playing a video game while Julia and Lucas were playing a board game.

“Johnny, I need you to take me and Sawyer to the hospital,” Alice said.

“What? Why?” Johnny asked.

“He did something to his hand, though he won’t tell me what,” Alice told him.

“You’ll need to stay home with Julia and Lucas then,” Johnny said.

“Can’t Jack stay? He’s thirteen,” Alice protested.

“With all the break-ins happening, Mom doesn’t want them to stay at home without you or me,” Johnny explained.

“All right,” Alice mumbled.

As the two were going back and forth, I felt the pain roaring back; not as much as originally, but close.

Jack seemed to notice my pain. “Uh, guys? Sawyer seems to be in a lot of pain right now.”

“Oh yeah. Let me go grab my license and I’ll be right back. And give him something to wrap around his hand so blood doesn’t drip everywhere.”

My hand was bleeding more then it should’ve. It must’ve been something in the unknown vial.

Jack quickly ran out and came back with an old dishcloth which he carefully tied around my hand.

“Got it. Now we need to get going, especially if we’re gonna catch dad on duty,” Johnny said, running into the room.

He escorted me outside while all his siblings trailed behind us. We got into an old red truck and Johnny started the engine. Even though the Johnsons were rich, Johnny insisted that he should pay for his own truck with his own work money. He was probably the most responsible seventeen year old I had ever met.

We were both quiet on the trip. On every bump I winced in pain, now back full-force. I could tell that Johnny noticed, because he went as slow as he dared, while still trying to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

At a stop sign I glanced down at my hand, but was surprised to see cuts climbing all the way up my wrist. Cringing, I pulled up my long sleeve that was now specked with blood, to see the cuts went all the way up to my shoulder. Johnny noticed, and his eyes widened to an almost impossible circumference.

“But… How-” Johnny stammered.

“The light,” I ground out. I nodded my head to the now green light.

“Of course.” Confusion on his face, Johnny drove forwards, now faster then before.

With every jolt I moaned. The residue had climbed up my arm as well, bringing a burning sensation as well.

We finally arrived at the emergency room. By then, the cuts and residue had climbed up to my neck. I was in agonizing pain, and painstakingly walked into the building. As soon as I stepped foot into the main room, people whirled around me, and after that everything became a painful blur.

The only thing I did remember was that my uncle had immediately come running in. He had taken me back into a room, and he and other doctors and nurses began scans and asked Johnny and me countless questions.

Wait … whaaaat????? Let me know your reactions in the comments!!