QUESTION: Do you think Cynthia set Lydia up to fail?

A/n: Some may have read my spoiler incorrectly. I was not confirming Faith being one of the six.

Chapter 45 – Creando Stateram (Samson Conrad POV) Pt.1

There's a hum, a low buzz that confuses me. Four drums beat around me though. The sound makes the discountenance in my mind grow. In the darkness, the nights sky is filled with smoke, a roaring fire clawing at the trees in the distance.

I run.

Leap.

Fly.

The brush around me all obstacles I overcome to get to my destination, but I feel as though the journey never ends. The distance between where I am and where I want to be never declines.

It is never in arms reach.

Soon. All too soon, I'm surrounded, enveloped by a group of strong barriers. Bodies holding me back.

They hold me back.

They're wrong. Silas is alive!

Keep me in place.

I have to get to Silas!

Ignore my struggle and pleas.

The image in my mind's eye stays, but slows.

This is not real, a part of me thinks rationally. It's nothing more than a memory. Yet another part of me that pays attention to my senses is reluctant to agree. The arms holding me feel real. The sounds I hear, they too are real. My mouth fills with saliva and the urge to vomit is not imagined either.

The crying around me intensifies, but slowly, darkness between the trees filling with smoke blend with another image. A classroom, the walls white, brick on the far left side; a trick of the mind I realize.

This is real I acknowledge.

With that as a motivating source, the trees and smoke disappear altogether, leaving what is true.

Chaos in another for; Imogen's hair wild and covering her forehead as her red eyes release more tears, her body shaking. Lennon, in no better shape than Imogen herself, but she appears to be frozen her lips just slightly parted though it doesn't look as though she's even breathing.

My leg stretches out as I gaze at Lennon an Imogen, and items around me, on me, rattle as they move to the ground. But my focus remains on Lennon, while my mind fights to correct the mirage in my head with what is true. This is now.

Silas is gone.

The thought, having to tell myself this once again, doesn't obliterate my heart, as it would have like before. In the moment my heart races painfully as I make the separation of occurrences. A slight turn and my wildly beating heart stops before taking off, pounding faster, harder, than ever before.

As soon as, my eyes fall on two slumped bodies, that's all the proof I need to remind myself, that this was not the night of Silas' death. Crawling over the rumble in the room, "We tried to leave," I hear Imogen crying, "Lydia locked us in and then we couldn't get to the other door."

Four drums beating?

Four heartbeats in a room with five people, I scream getting to my Fatima and Lydia quicker. I check Fatima first, afraid to touch her, at first. Uncertain, I reach out, pulling my hand back, but getting close enough to distinctly make out just whose heart wasn't beating as it should be.

Lydia's.

Bracing myself for the same shock to throw me back, I reach out to touch Lydia, "Samson, don't!" Imogen cries loudly. Undeterred I make contact, touching her hand, and sighing in relief when I'm not blown away. Frantically I dig into my pockets, and from the corner of my eyes see Lennon making way to leave the room.

"No!" I shout, "we have to stay here," I look around the room wildly, hell how did she think we were going to explain this without having my father here? My face feels wet and at first I look right up, expecting to see the ceiling dripping above me but my body jerks in place uncontrollably setting the record straight.

"Lydi," I turn back to my cousin, her brown hair splayed out around her. Unsure I reach for her face, "C.P.R. Samson," Imogen whispers hoarsely, pushing forward. Nodding, I run over the steps in my head, before taking my phone and tossing it at Imogen, "call my dad!"

My heart aches painfully, and my hands shake but I maneuver her head back, tilting it up and opening her air way, before starting chest compressions.

Counting in my head, I push down, once, twice... and continue. "Mr. C-Conrad?"

"D-daddy?" I hear Lennon simultaneously, "I-I'm at school," she breaks. "There – Lydia and Faith – we were in the Home Economics-" I continue the compressions going to thirty, before shakily leaning over Lydia, placing my lips over hers, giving her rescue breathes.

My vision blurring.

Please work, I breathe again, once more, before returning to chest compression. "No we haven't left, no – he's giving Lydia C.P.R – no – no I – I don't think it's working-"

"She's d-dead – she was chanting daddy, and – and now – I think Faith might have killed her, her eyes turned white – and Samson said not to leave to get help – because the room is d-destroyed-"

Faith might have killed her, her eyes turned white, Lennon's words to her father play over in my head as my movements increase, hurrying, all my effort put into getting something from Lydia.

"No-no Lydia said a spell – she locked the door that we were closest too and then she grabbed Faith's hand and wouldn't let go and then she started chanting-" I hear a completely different version of the same events from Imogen.

Crying, "tell him to come, I – it's not working," I interrupt her as I continue with another set of chest compressions, "please wake up Lydi," I beg as Imogen crawls over to Faith and an irrational fear strikes me again. It's just a fraction of a second maybe, but I stop going statue still, needing to hear and make sure that Fatima was still alive.

"Samson!" Imogen snaps, my eyes darting to hers, "don't stop, your – your dad said don't stop the C.P.R. your uncle Trevor is on his way, and your mom should be here soon," nodding, crying, I continue the chest compression. Using too much force during a set of compressions, I hear a bone fracture. Yanking my hands away, in shock, "Don't stop Samson," Imogen instructs me again.

She moves towards Fatima's head, using her free hand to check Fatima's eyes. "Her – her eyes are still cloudy white, but I can see it clearing."

Looking around quickly, I see Lennon backed away in the corner, her body slowly lowering to the ground as I lower my face to Lydia's again. Forcing the air into her lungs, I watch her chest expand, but not on her own.

I do as Imogen instructs until a banging on the door startles me, and makes me weep in relief. "Samson!" my mom's voice is muffled through the door but I find myself nodding as though she asked a question or could even see through it like I could if I took my glasses off.

"Lennon!" Imogen shouts a bit angrily, "Get up and unlock the damn door!" I nod again, counting out the last set of compressions I do on Lydia.

Twenty-seven.

Twenty-eight.

Twenty-nine.

Thirty.

My mom brushes past Lennon, her gaze immediately connecting with mine, Uncle Trevor behind her.

.

.

.

__________

© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved

I'm just the writer... but I'll say this: Lydia isn't bad and in her eyes, she wasn't doing anything wrong. This comment here really puts it in perspective:

To me, Lydia isn't bad. Misguided but that is because of Cynthia. However... there is the little detail that Danny didn't know that Lydia and Cynthia were even practicing magic.