Chapter 22

When Damien pulled open the front door Alice tried to stop him, but it was already too late. Feet were already planted firmly about the doorframe and arms were reaching in and grabbing, pulling him into the street. 

She ran out after him, spinning on the spot to get an idea of how many people were present. There seemed to be hundreds, and more were gathering in every direction. Neighbours stood on their laws in slippers and nightgowns, staring dully or filming the ruckus on their phones.

"He's dangerous, and we have to stop him before it's too late," the young man was saying. As he spoke the crowd leaned into him as if hypnotised. Yes, the guy was beautiful, and he had a certain allure. 

'And is he even wrong?' Alice wondered. Damien had told her on a couple of occasions that he planned on killing off the entire human race. It didn't strike her as altogether likely that he could pull it off, but the fact he was planning on it certainly made him dangerous.

As she watched the other boy working up the crowd, a thought occurred to her as clear as day.

'This boy is more dangerous.'

Whatever power they share, it was safer in Damien's hands. Alice felt sure of it. She watched his face, usually confident and sure of himself, becoming clouded with self-doubt. As the mob tore into him, telling him he was too evil and dangerous to exist, the boy at the helm spoke again.

"Give your powers up," he said. "You can decide to do the right thing."

Damien's eyes fixed on the floor as he stood in silence, refusing to defend himself or explain what had happened.

"No!" Morgan cried. "Don't do it. He's a liar! He's not a good guy."

With a frown, Damien turned to face the girl.

"He's like the guy in the suit!" Morgan said. She shook her head as if trying to find the words. "T-th-the one who hates breastfeeding in public."

As Alice watched his lip curl up in distaste, a shard of something he'd said to her dislodged from her brain’s memory bank.

"My power comes from a place of rage."

'Think, think. What makes him angry?' she thought in a panic.

"When working-class people vote for capitalism!" she blurted. 

Damien twisted his head to look at her, his frown line deepening.

"Americanism. Nationalism. Apartheid. Poverty wages," she listed.

For whatever reason, be it the stress of the situation or the fact she had too much caffeine in her system, her brain went blank.

"Oh, oh, people who have three different birds stuffed inside each other for Christmas dinner!" Morgan cried, understanding the gist of what Alice was doing.

"People who say, 'I'm not a racist...but,' and follow it up with something racist!" Erin piped up.

"People who bully you for how you look and then start dressing like you when it becomes mainstream fashion," Toby added a bit more quietly, making Damien chuckle. 

As the four of them listed off all the things that made Damien angry his lips twitched into a smile. He didn't grow angry, rather the opposite. He looked happy to know he had friends on his side. 

With each statement the crowd grew less cohesive until they were shuffling about, confused and mumbling among themselves.

"I'm not evil," he told his adversary. "You want my power for yourself. But I won't give it up."

"He's the antichrist!" the lad shouted, but the crowd was no longer listening to him. A couple of girls rolled their eyes and shook their heads before announcing they were going, leading a chunk of the people away. The rest started to talk among themselves.

"Go home!" Damien shouted, and without arguing or even looking up they began to trudge off, leaving only his friends and the new boy.

"Your power is slightly different to mine," Damien noted. "But I'm a lot stronger and you know it, right?"

The boy said nothing, just stared daggers at him.

Damien flashed him a smug smile as he clicked his fingers. "Now you have no power at all."

When the boy opened his mouth to argue, Damien told him to go home. He turned and began to walk, face screwed up and lips puckered as he stared back over his shoulder.

Damien’s mother's car pulled up just as they all piled up the driveway. She got out of the car, looked back at the crowd leaving the corner of the road and shook her head. After catching them up, she placed a hand just above Alice's elbow and stroked gently.

"Hello, Belle," she said.

'Belle?' Alice thought. It wasn't even close to Alice. 'And when did I tell her my name?'

A shiver worked its way up her spine and spread out through her shoulders, making her shudder.

'Belle.' 

Something that felt like Deja vu ticked over in her brain for just a fraction of a second before the sensation passed, leaving her feeling cold.

As the others gathered in the kitchen, making drinks and snacks while explaining the situation to Damien's mother, Alice crept up the stairs. Operating on pure instinct, she wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for or what she expected to find.

At the top of the stairs, she had to walk past the master bedroom to get to both Damien's room and the bathroom. Stepping past the room, the door opened slightly and something on the far wall caught her eye.

The draft from downstairs pulled the door shut again before her vision had a chance to focus. She held her breath, listening to her surroundings and scanning the hallway.

Feeling like a spy and a criminal, Alice pushed the door open, sidestepped into the room with a final check and closed the door behind her.

Her own face smiled back at her from the corkboard packed with polaroids. The girl in the picture had a different style, with numerous facial piercings as well as two full sleeves of tattoos. Her hair was dyed black and styled with a harsh fringe and undercut, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

It didn't just look like Alice—it was Alice. Her facial expression. The way she stood. It was Alice.

She couldn't remember posing for this picture with Damien. Couldn't remember his arm around her waist beneath the cherry tree in the garden. 

It made no sense, and yet, it made perfect sense.

'He really did pull me out of my life to create this romance between student and counsellor,' she realised.

The thought sparked more questions than her brain could handle. How much of her life was real? Was her family real? Was everything about her made up by him?

Alice's heart began to race as the terrifying truth dawned on her. She could be anybody, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was what he wanted her to be.

Her adrenaline-addled ears made the tut from behind sound louder than it probably was. She almost jumped out of her skin as she spun to find Damien standing behind her.

"I thought she took that stupid thing down," he said, tearing the photograph from the board and crumpling it in his fist.

She watched the ruined picture fall to the floor, trying desperately to remember. As hard as she pushed her mind, there was nothing in there about her past. Nothing other than her memories of growing up with her sister and mother. How was it possible to be Alice and also be the girl from the picture?

"That was me?" she asked. It was always possible that she had a twin or a lookalike. Unlikely...yes. But possible.

"Hmm." Damien sucked in his lips and tapped his fingers against his leg. "It is. It's fine. I can make you forget—"

"No!" Alice cried, shocking herself as much as him. The idea of forgetting again terrified her. Deep inside her somewhere, some instinct was telling her this wasn't the first time she'd had to forget.

"This isn't going to work, and you know it deep down," she said. "It doesn't matter what circumstances you create; you cannot create the perfect love story."

"I dunno," Damien argued. "It was going pretty well until you saw the picture."

"But how could it have lasted. It would be the same as when you forced Morgan to love you. You'd know it wasn't real."

"Are you saying you don't really love me?" he asked. As his face turned dark and his voice cold, she finally understood the danger she was in. He could do anything he wanted to her, her life and even the world. Acting in anger, who knew what he was capable of?

"I love you. I feel it." Alice pressed her hand to her heart. "But you'll always know why. You can make me forget but you can't make yourself forget and eventually, you'll realise you want real love. Someone who knows you. Sees all your flaws and accepts you for who you are, not because you share stuff in common but because you have a deeper connection."

He turned and stormed out of the room, but at least he hadn't taken her memory away. 

Knowing she had no other choice but to push, Alice followed him to his room. She found him on his bed, lying flat on his belly and facing away from her.

The bed dipped as she sat next to him.

"You know I'm saying this because I love you and I want what's best for you, right?" she asked, stroking his hair with her hand. "As much as the idea of not being with you kills me, I want you to choose the right person."

The bed creaked as Damien rolled over and looked at her. "How do you know you're not the right person?"

Alice took a deep breath, fearing his reaction to what she had to say next. It took every ounce of bravery she had to spit the words out.

"Because you don't love me. If you loved me the way I love you...you would never have done this to me."