Talentmania Fan Fiction Entry #23

Second Chance
A Dark Divine Fan Fiction by Jared Peterson

Grace Divine jogged along the side of the frozen road. Despite the frigid morning air, she wore only a thin jacket. Her nose and cheeks were tinged with red.
It had been two months since that day in the Parish, the day when she’d saved Daniel from the wolf. Two months since she’d been infected with the powers of a monster; two months since she’d last seen Jude. Jude . . . Grace found herself thinking about him often.
The sky above churned in a maelstrom of hate, envy, longing and cold, dark emptiness. She stopped, holding her arms closer to her, wishing there was some way to erase the void that was Jude’s absence. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head to give a silent prayer to God above – if He was even listening.
A bright flash of ambient light illuminated the empty street.
Grace snapped to attention, warmth trickling into her limbs.
Purple and blue blotches flashed before her eyes, and she blinked furiously in an attempt to push them away.
A figure stood before her. Simply the way she moved screamed familiarity.
“Grace,” a voice said. A feminine voice. A voice she knew all-too well. “Grace, is that you?”
The light in her retinas began to fade; enough that she could see clearly. Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came. It was as if she were looking into a mirror, with the exception of one thing: when she moved, her reflection didn’t.
“How . . .” she stuttered.
Grace Divine stepped toward her slowly, as if scared she might shatter.
“It’s alright,” Grace Two whispered. “I’m a friend.”
Grace stared dumbstruck at herself. “Who are you?” she said.
“I’m you, Grace.” The figure said, “I’m your parallel.”

They walked down the street. Grace kept giving “herself” sideways glances every now and then, still quite unsure of this.
Maybe I’ve gone senile, Grace thought, I’m just having hallucinations. Or maybe it’s just a dream. . . . But it was difficult to convince her mind any of these were true. It seemed harder to persuade herself of the implausibility of anything lately, not when such ultra-mundane events were included in her everyday schedule.
They stopped beside the ashen walnut tree in their yard. Her dad was at the Parish, working; her mom was monotonously checking off grocery items at the store, probably fretting over which loaf of bread she should buy – Which bread-tie matches the curtains better? – And Daniel had gone into town for the day. Grace could still feel the warm, soft touch of his lips when he’d kissed her good-bye.
Grace Two had her tear-welling eyes turned to the frozen grass as she said, “I miss that old tree.”
Grace looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“Jude . . . had Dad chop it down a few years back. Said he was sick of looking at it.”
“What? Jude would never do something like that. Not in a million years.”
Grace Two gave her an icy glare, narrowing her eyes.
“I don’t think you get it,” she said, “things are different where I live, Grace. People are different. They may look exactly the same, but that doesn’t mean they have to act like it. In my world, that is exactly something Jude would do.”
Grace looked at her hands. They were still stained with the oils her and Daniel had used the day before. Painting this exact tree. She absentmindedly traced the chromatic pattern they’d created. It looked like a river of sorts; with twists and turns, and all grey and blue. If Jude was so different, then what else could be? The possibilities seemed endless. Am I different? Do I still love Daniel?
“I came here today, Grace, because I wanted to tell you something. I know this is probably all still confusing for you, but believe me when I tell you this: you don’t know how good you have it. You don’t know what you have, the opportunities in front of you. Don’t waste them.”
Grace Two looked at her a pleading look in her eyes.
Grace looked up, suddenly aware of her breath in the subzero air.
“What do you mean?”
Her parallel turned her head away as though ashamed of herself, and wiped a tear from her eye.
“Daniel died that night, Grace. . . . I couldn’t save him.”
She disappeared with a flash.