Free Witness by Jamie Magee Page A

said, turning in my seat to face him.
    Aden shook his head as he passed the road that my house was on. “Fine – listen,” he mumbled. “Stop thinking about it; this is natural to us – like breathing. Do you think about breathing?”
    “No…it’s not natural. If it was, I would have never forgotten how.”
    “You forgot how because you let a demon in your life and were too stubborn to ask for help.”
    “Stop it. No lectures; just teach.”
    “You doubt yourself. Don’t try to deny it; you do.”
    “I just think it’s my imagination sometimes,” I mumbled, regretting that I’d demanded he take me to town. My anxiety was making it hard to breathe – I’d rather be at home, playing my music - but then the idea of being the weak link...wanting to change that gave me the strength to listen.
    “It might be, but your imagination is building what you’re seeing. In the living, everything about a person screams who they are on the inside - the way they dress, speak, breathe. Your mind is trying to open a door for you, and you keep closing it.”
    “I’m not. I’m focusing.”
    “You’re not supposed to focus; let your mind do the work. Sometimes...sometimes I don’t even leave when I see I just know. I know what’s happened to them, why they are the way they are. If I want to understand it further, then I go deeper in my mind and stand in their memories.”
    “I don’t like going deep...I’m scared I won’t come out.”
    Aden opened the console in-between us, then reached in and pulled out a necklace - one that I knew was Draven’s - and handed it to me. Draven’s first pick was on the leather cord that was worn by time. It was broken now.
    I furrowed my eyebrows. “How did that happen?”
    “Don’t ask,” Aden mumbled. “Look, you need a base – use that. Hold on to the pick, rub your thumb across it – something. When you feel like you’re slipping too deep, think about that pick – home, your life. Allow it to give you some separation from the memories you’re standing in.”
    “Do you have something like this?”
    He nodded, then reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a nub of wood. “The bottom of my first drumstick,” he said as he tried to grin. “I had to find something that would balance me as I helped Draven.”
    “Have you followed him?”
    Aden’s expression grew dim. “I have...it’s messed up. It’s not memories; it’s like a dream - and in this dream, you can do anything, show any kind of power. I’m worried about that – that it’ll become addicting to him…I can see how addicted Winston and Grayson are.”
    I looked over my shoulder at Monroe. “Have you been there?” I asked her.
    She didn’t answer; she just looked down. I stared at her for a moment, not really focusing, but trying to let it come to me…nothing happened. I looked at Aden and tried to hide my frustration.
    “You can’t see them…they’re more guarded than you’ve ever been.”
    “Looks like we have something in common, then,” I said as I looked back at Monroe. She smiled shyly as she looked up at me.
    “She likes you,” Aden mumbled.
    “Don’t talk about her like she’s not here.”
    “Sorry – it’s become habit. She usually sits still as a statue; not tonight, though,” Aden said as he looked in the rearview mirror at her. “You brought her to life.”
    “Too many boys around – right?” I said, looking over my shoulder at her. Her pale cheeks blushed slightly.
    We drove to the strip I went to earlier this morning. Our town wasn’t really a city per se, and there wasn’t much to do around here. Most of the kids from school would come down here and drive in circles or park in the storefront parking lots and sit and talk. I didn’t know how many people to expect to see in town tonight; it was a weeknight, but most of our friends – well, Madison’s friends – were home for Fall Break, surely bragging about the newfound freedom they all had at