After a failed suicide attempt, sixteen year old Ember finds herself in a mental institution where she meets the mysterious Taren. Before long, Ember is thrust into a dangerous world where nothing is as it seems.
In the end, only the Voice remained.
I told you it would be better this way...
I was drifting, floating on something too silky to be water. It was warm, and it penetrated the deepest parts of me.
The Voice was right. It was always right. Everything finally felt soft. My sharpest edges were being worn away, melting into oblivion. I felt like candle wax before it cooled; nothing to do but let the remaining drops of consciousness slide down—
Pain. Where did that come from? How could I feel pain when I didn't have a body anymore?
My throat. It was my throat, being stabbed, or —
Shh... let it go. Let all the pain go. Rest easy...
For a moment I was comforted, the gentle motion of the not quite water lulling me, pulling me back to safety.
But I was heaving. Huge, uncontrollable spasms. And then I was vomiting, although that word isn’t strong enough. I was erupting. The contents of my stomach spewed from my mouth, my nose. The wetness hit my chest, then my belly, and finally dribbled down my chin. My mouth tasted of charcoal. The warmth receded. The peace went with it. And I knew.