Chapter Three: Insane
As Damien followed the sun, his arms seared with pain.
Every so often, he took a little bite from Kana's sack, which was filled with an assortment of food.
So she wasn't kidding.
But Damien soon realized the trip would be a lot harder than he thought.
During the first three days, an oar snapped in two.
The next week, he ran out of food.
Two weeks in, he ran out of water.
All that was left to sustain him… was the ocean.
He wanted to scream.
Actually—he did.
"Why?! Why is this so hard to do?! I swear, the damn mayor must have set me up!"
The oars were brittle. But the missing food and water? That part… was on him. Not that Damien would ever admit it.
Time passed.
He lay in the boat, staring up at the sky, and slowly—his grip on reality began to fade. His mind warped what he saw, what he felt. It was like being drunk on heat and hunger and loneliness.
Splish. Splash. Splishy splash. Splash. Splash. Splishy splash.
Damien slapped the water, over and over, making a tune of his own. He looked up at the sky.
Why is it bursting with flames?
He leaned back in the boat and pressed his index fingers together.
Boop.
He laughed.
The boy had officially lost his mind.
Then he thought—maybe… just maybe… there's water under the boat.
So he dunked his head into the sea.
And what he saw beneath took his breath away.
A vast city of marble columns. Coral that glowed red like firelight. Schools of fish riding stingrays like children off to school.
Damien grinned. He was seeing a wonder.
Something loomed in the shadows behind it all—but he didn't care.
He was too happy.
He surfaced—lungs burning—took a long, greedy breath, then plunged his head back in.
This time, he saw lobsters waddling like cranky old men, scowling as though they'd just been woken up.
Crabs barked out headlines and sold newspapers.
He giggled.
But the shadow crept closer.
Damien squinted. It was long. Thin. Moving fast.
He tried to name it.
The word floated just out of reach. Then—like a blink—it came to him.
A shark.
He smiled.
Sharks are friends. They won't hurt you.
But a part of him—the part buried deep—screamed.
Something was wrong.
Something inside him was begging him to lift his head out of the water.
The fish are in danger. You're in danger.
He tried to yell.
"Run!" he cried to the fish.
It came out as a bubbly, warped wheeze.
The shark stared at him. Blood-red eyes. Grim-reaper teeth.
It charged.
Damien yanked his head out of the water, gasping.
What just happened?
Who saved them?
He turned—on the far side of the boat, a boy stood. About his age.
"When will you learn?" the boy said.
Damien blinked.
"I don't know. Did you save me?"
"Of course I saved you."
Damien reached toward the water again, ready to slap out a rhythm.
The boy stopped him.
"Don't."
"Why are you so mean?" Damien asked.
The boy stared, serious.
Damien, I want you to look at me.
The boy's voice was quiet but firm.
"And I mean really look at me."
Damien obeyed.
The boy had green eyes. Black hair. A white shirt that clung to his chest, soaked through with seawater. Rain dripped down his face, trailing over skin that looked too familiar.
Damien frowned.
He wasn't sure who this boy was.
So he asked.
"Hey, um… where are you from?"
The boy grinned.
"I'm from Silent Bell. Just like you, if I'm not mistaken."
Like the crack of a firework in the night sky, it hit Damien all at once.
He knew who the boy was.
It was none other than—
his reflection.
But the reflection had helped him.
Saved him from a shark.
Saved him from himself.
The boy was him.
But even better?
He was himself again.