I scrambled off the ground and backed off the busy sidewalk. My entire body shivered under the thin threads that I gripped tightly. I had tattered, worn books, a filthy dress that hung below my knees, and a very thin, ripped sweater tucked around my shoulders.

    There was also a bracelet wrapped around my wrist with a small, transparent bulb in the string. Then I understood. My orb would glow when I passed the immortals' standards.

    I whipped my face up toward the street only to realize that the cars weren't from this century, and neither were anyone's clothes. The women wore long skirts as well, and the men had suits and trench coats. What era did the Elect send me to?

    To my right there was a bus stop at the corner of the block, and to my left, there was a restaurant, but it looked more like a club. I needed information; I needed answers.

    Stumbling, I made my way to a nearby woman, wringing her hands and waiting for the bus.

    "Um, excuse me," I started, teeth chattering. The woman looked at me sharply, glaring before turning her face away. I stopped approaching her, suddenly self-conscious.

    She obviously wasn't open to conversation, so I didn't bother with a second effort. I turned back the way I had come, my bones craving warmth.

    Then, I had a thought. It was very strange, yet it felt like part of me.

    My brother. I need to get him from that bar. That's why I'm here.

    Something clicked and I suddenly understood. This was the trial. To navigate a scenario and play my part in order to display a certain trait. A sureness washed over me, causing me to relax... slightly.

    The knowledge of who I was in this decade flowed through my mind naturally, and I accepted it. I was a little disturbed by how nonchalant this process felt, but I knew I had to go through it.

    My brother, David, was three. I needed to get him from the people I had entrusted him with earlier.

    I had left him to find food.

    I didn't have a home.

    Dad left us.

    Mom was gone.

    I had no money, no job.

    I was alone.

    It was the middle of winter in 1930. The World War had ended a little over twelve years ago.

    And I was very, very afraid. Panic rose in my chest as the pains of hunger took over my stomach. I clasped my hands over my middle, praying to the sky above that I would stay alive. For Dad, if he was out there. For David.

    Still, I knew who I was. Adaliah, trying to get into the immortal world in order to always live with Owen. I didn't know where Owen was, and I wondered if I would see him throughout this process. My stomach dropped when I thought about going through the Trails completely alone.

    Fear and desperation creeped up my back. I took a deep breath and strode into the bar, hands shaking. I had to get this little boy. Part of me felt guilty, because I had a feeling leaving him wasn't safe. Dad wouldn't have wanted that.

    Warmth hit me like a truck, and for a moment, I stood in the doorway, stunned. The heat stung my toes and fingers, bringing radiating blood to my cheeks. I flexed my fingers, relieved they didn't appear frostbitten.

    The bar was very crowded, filled with conversation, both loud and soft, obnoxious and steady. The mind from the time knew exactly who I was looking for; I also knew that I had no time for anyone else. Dusk was starting to settle on the city, and I had to make sure our box was still ours.

    I squeezed past drunk men as well as a few sober ones. My legs and hands were shaking, though I couldn't tell if the cause was nerves or the cold. It didn't matter.

    My brother was what mattered.

    The dirty wood floor was scuffed beneath my feet. Old bar stools were filled with exhausted people, trying to forget everything in order to have a few hours of peace. I understood that yearning, but I wouldn't give into it. Not this way.

    Something gripped my legs, and I nearly tripped. When I looked down, I nearly began crying. Small David -- with his dark hair, big brown eyes, and baby cheeks -- was clinging to my skirt, gazing up at me with tears rolling down his face.

    I managed to reach down and scoop him up, allowing him to bury himself into my sweater. As I was cradling him, I made eye-contact with the man I had left him with. The man's eyes were filled with some type of relief, yet his face was cold and emotionless. He nodded to me and gulped down his beer. In response, I held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned to go.

    "Addy has you, baby. You're safe with sister," I soothed, wishing I had never left him.

    "Missed you," he whimpered, his tears hot on my neck.

    "I missed you, too," I whispered, pushing to door and exiting into the cold.

    I racked my brain for information as to why I would leave this little boy with a man I didn't know. No thoughts from the era told me I knew him. David had been left with a complete stranger, but in my stomach, I knew I didn't have a lot of choice.

    That was even more terrifying; in both to survive and the me attempting the Trials, there wasn't a lot of choice. Was there?

    I held David close as I traced my path back to the door and stepped into the cold air. My brother was so small and thin. He curled up perfectly in my arms, pushing his face under my chin to keep warm. He had a long-sleeved shirt that was too big for him.

    My legs felt weak as I walked through the sidewalks, thinking about the responsibility I had. David had to stay alive. I had to keep breathing so I could protect him. In order for both of those to happen, I needed to find food. I hadn't had a meal in three days; the last thing I ate was a stale sandwich.

    Not only was this weird, to just embody a character so easily, but it was fascinating. In my head, I knew the layout of this part of town. What was safe and what wasn't. Where the church was that gave out meals on Mondays, which was tomorrow.

    My mood lifted slightly when I remembered that we would get food in less than twenty-four hours.

    I kept my face up, facing the cruel world that I was thrown into. I clung to David, just as he was clinging to me. He was the only person I had left; I couldn't lose him.

    I turned sharply down an alley. In a way, the walls kept me warmer, even if the shadows didn't. The wind couldn't touch me here, and people wouldn't find me. The alley was narrow with a pieces of trash and paper everywhere. The buildings were so close together that I could stretch out my arms and my fingers could touch both of them. I trudged on until I reached the end, where a dissembled piece of cardboard was balanced on top of two crates and held in place by a few rocks.

    It was a small house. It wasn't warm and it wasn't safe, but nothing was anymore. This was my normality, as it had been for the past couple years. Winter was worse this year, though.

    I cringed as I set David down on the cold concrete. I pressed my own knees on the frozen ground and crawled into the small space, just enough room for me to fit and David to lay in my arms.

    "Alright, come here," I whispered. We were the only ones there, but I couldn't help but talk quietly. I didn't want anyone to know I was there. Most alleyways were full of people trying to catch forty winks, but I lucked out. This one was empty.

    David crawled to me. I pulled him to my chest and positioned myself so that he was shielded from the entrance. It was cramped, but it was the best we had. I couldn't complain.

    "Addy, story-time," he requested.

    "Okay, you have to really listen though," I said, smiling. He always fell asleep after a few minutes of me talking.

    "Okie-dokie," he replied.

    I wrapped my arms around his trembling figure. He was so cold.

    My heart nearly stopped beating. He was colder than me. I knew David was at a disadvantage because he was so young, so small, but I tried not to think of how vulnerable he was.

    I pushed those thoughts away and began my story. He fell asleep quickly, and soon, I stopped talking. I laid awake for hours, afraid that if I fell asleep when it was so cold, I wouldn't wake up. Or David would stop breathing. Or someone would come in the middle of the night to hurt us.

    I rarely slept. The conditions were terrible for sleep. But my bones were so tired and my muscles ached from shivering so much. I pulled David closer, and closed my eyes. One thought ran through my mind.

    Tomorrow would be better.

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{January 14, 2017}

(PC: brokenstreetstudios // Instagram)