Gone by Lisa McMann

that will explain some of the mystery of Henry
.
    Janie doesn’t know how much time goes by before she can’t continue moving
.
    Before she can no longer press on, unable to fight any longer. Unable to find the bathroom, to break the connection
.
    It’s as if she’s fallen through ice, engulfed in frigid water. Numb, both body and mind. Even the noise and the colors are muted
.
    Things stop mattering
.
    She can’t feel herself flopping around wildly
.
    Doesn’t know she’s losing consciousness
.
    Doesn’t care anymore either. She just wants to give up, let the nightmare overtake her, engulf her, fill her brain and body with the endless clamor and sickening dazzle
.
    And it does
.
    Soon, everything goes black
.
    But then
.
    In Janie’s own unconsciousness, the picture of a madman, a hairy, screaming madman that is her own father, slowly appears from the darkness before her
.
    He reaches toward her, his fingers black and bloody, his eyes deranged, unblinking. Janie is paralyzed. Her father’s cold hands reach around her neck, squeezing tight, tighter, until Janie has no breath left. She’s unable to move, unable to think. Forced to let her own father kill her. As his grasp tightens further around Janie’s neck, Henry’s face turns sickly alabaster. He strains harder and begins to shake
.
    Janie is dying
.
    She has no fight left in her
.
    It’s over
.
    Just as she has given up, her father’s chalky face turns to glass and shatters into a dozen pieces
.
    His grip around Janie’s neck releases. His body disappears
.
    Janie falls to the ground, gasping, next to the pieces of her father’s exploded face. She looks at them, sucking breath, finally able to move
.
    Raises herself up
.
    And there, instead of seeing her father in the glass
,
    She sees her own horrified, screaming face, reflected back at her
.
    Static once again
.
    For a very
.
    Very
.
    Long time
.
    Janie realizes that she might be stuck here. Forever
.
    2:19 a.m.
    And then
.
    A flicker of life
.
    A flash of a woman’s figure in a dark gymnasium, a portrait of a man on a chair . .
.
    And a voice
.
    Distant. But clear. Distinct
.
    Familiar
.
    The voice of hope in one person’s ever-darkening world
.
    “Come back,” the woman says. Her voice is sweet and young
.
    She turns to face Janie. Steps into the light
.
    Standing on strong legs, her eyes clear and bright. Her fingers, not gnarled, but long and lovely. “Janie,” she says in earnest. “Janie, my dear, come back.”
    Janie doesn’t know how to come back
.
    She is exhausted. Gone. Gone from this world and hovering somewhere no other living person could possibly be
.
    Except for Henry
.
    Janie’s mind is flooded with the new scene, a soft and quiet scene, of a man in a chair, and a woman, now standing in the light imploring Janie to come back. The woman walks over to Henry, stands beside him. Henry turns and looks at Janie. Blinks
.
    “Help me,” he says. “Please, please, Janie. Help me.”
    Janie is terrified of him. Still, there is nothing she can do but help
.
    It is her gift
.
    Her curse
.
    She is unable to say no
.
    Compelled, Janie pulls herself to attention, to full awareness, scared to death that the horrible din and burning colors will return at any moment, dreading gettinganywhere near this man who turns mad and strangles her. Wishing she could gather the strength to pull herself from this nightmare now, while she has the chance. But she cannot
.
    Janie struggles silently to her feet in the gymnasium. With effort, she walks toward the two, her footsteps echoing. She has no idea what to do for Henry. Sees nothing that she can do to help. Really only wants to tie him up, or maybe kill him, so he doesn’t have the chance to hurt her
.
    She stops a few feet away from them. Stares at the woman standing there, not quite believing her eyes. “It’s you,” she says. She feels a rush of relief. Her lip quivers. “Oh, Miss Stubin.”
    Miss Stubin reaches out and Janie, overwhelmed by