The silence stuck to me

The silence stuck to me. The voices would certainly reach out to me, the voice of someone I could always talk to.

The voices even sat down beside me and shared a drink with me. They'd offer an ear or an arm. Maybe some advice.

"Hey, Lydia," the Voice said. "Mind if we crash for the night? I think I might need to see some familiar faces."

"Yeah, sure," I said, but the scene that had unfolded with a half-smile on my face when I'd tried to force down that drink was far from familiar. And although she'd wanted to chat with me, the fact that she'd asked if we could have a glass of water, too, was a reminder that








The silence stuck to me.

My palm was a little drier than it should be, but it also felt heavy.

I wondered if my fever was back.

I avoided looking at my palm, and pulled up my shorts.

"If I really had to say, I don't know how…"

I couldn't quite remember what I had been wondering about earlier.

I could only come up with the line of dialogue my savior in the dream had given me.

I began questioning what my dream self had thought, and then realized that the problem lay more with the person sleeping in front of me than it did with the thing in front of me.

"…It's strange. They aren't gone from the








The silence stuck to me.

"Escape, baby boy! I love you!"

Her arm wrapped around me, this time holding my head between her palms as if she could drown me in it. Tears. Mere hours earlier, it might have seemed like my whole world was falling apart. I was left with few words of my own. Now, there were none.

"Amanda. Help me!"

The hospital took her to a room. A nice room. It smelled good. It had everything. There was a bathroom. A bed. I wanted to go in there with her. I wanted to touch the walls of the room with her. I wanted to caress her.

I couldn't









The silence stuck to me. I told myself not to ask for reasons for my silence but rather let go of my self-imposed stupidity and save my energy. This is the truth; it does not matter why.

It was only after I realized this that I told him I'm from Guam. He smiled and handed me a card that said, "Please come visit us in Guam. We love you."

My father never apologized for his treatment of my mother. He never asked for a single ounce of forgiveness. My dad made me feel as if he was my burden, and my mother my responsibility.

My father asked me to believe he was just a really good and kind man. It hurt me even to hear his words as








The silence stuck to me. It has followed me for almost three weeks.





The silence stuck to me.

The silence stuck me.

Let it go.

Let it go.

Let it go.

It was the only thing that was going to bring us back home. The only thing that was going to bring us back home.

Take a step back, Iris. Take a breath.

What did you see?

The man. The one with the missing arm.

The man with the missing arm.

The man with the missing arm.

The man with the missing arm.

The man with the missing arm.

The man with the missing arm.

The man with the missing arm.

The man with the missing arm.








The silence stuck to me. My heart was beating so fast that it felt like it would break, even though it didn't. I was kind of stunned.

She watched me for a moment then glanced up at Professor Quirrell's watch, saying, "Ninth hour."

Dumbledore nodded. "She's already moving. The dark side is going to try to force her back into her world."

"Really," said Professor Quirrell. "So she's more used to returning than I thought. And she's still keeping me appraised of what she sees and feels."

"No one's fooled me like she's been," said Professor Quirrell. "There's not a single girl in her year who's escaped