Mind's Eye (Mind's Eye, #1)

by Rebecca A. Rogers

Unfortunately, I betrayed myself and fell asleep on the couch last night, watching TV. I couldn’t stay in my closet all night; my shoes stunk, and I was uncomfortable. Honestly, the weirdo on the roof could’ve been in and out of my house, and I would’ve never known. But what did I expect? I had to deal with high school drama, Ryan randomly appearing at Liz’s house, defeating my kingdom’s enemy on a planet that didn’t exist, and a hot guy telling me I couldn’t use my imagination ever again or he would kidnap me and erase my ability. I was a little tired.

  This also meant I overslept, missing Mrs. Bryson’s class. If that woman hadn’t started a petition to have me suspended or expelled, I’d be surprised. Of course, it wasn’t my fault her classroom was on the backside of the building and it took me forever to mosey there. At least I made it to second period.

  Today was seemingly normal compared to yesterday. Ryan was accounted for, but I missed first period, so he couldn’t comment on my wonderful cigarette stench. At lunch, nobody had acted like I ripped the in-crowd a new one twenty-four hours prior.

  And so far, my final period in the library was quiet. Resting my cheek against the cold table, I decided to catch up on a few Z’s. I had nothing better to do, and I was non-operational at the moment.

  “Pssst!”

  I sat up. Was I dreaming? Was it possible my mind played tricks on me, especially after all of yesterday’s events?

  “Pssst! Kearly!”

  There was no mistaking the sharp whisper coming from nearby, or the fact that this person knew my name. I glanced up, noticing two eyes staring back at me through one of the bookshelves. Freaking Ryan Carter. Seriously? Was what his problem?

  I glared at him.

  He ignored my angry stare and waved me over, making quick, darting glimpses around the library, like he was terrified someone would spot him.

  “What is it?” I asked, not bothering to lower my tone as I approached the opposite side of the bookshelf.

  “I stopped by Liz’s yesterday. I figured you’d be there, but her brother said you weren’t. I didn’t know how else to reach you.” He shrugged.

  “Well, I was there. Jared just wanted you to leave.”

  Ryan’s head fell back, and his eyes closed. He released a loud sigh, then opened his eyes once again. “Yeah, I figured that after, you know, the whole Liz and me thing.”

  “He could care less who she dates, as long as they treat her nicely. You didn’t, so he hates you or something.” Why were we talking about their old relationship? Not wanting to hear one of his excuses as to why they called it quits, I cut straight to the point. “What is it you want with me, Ryan?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m standing in front of you. Now would be the time to do it.”

  “Not here,” he whispered. “Meet me tonight, at Valley Falls Park, about nine o’clock.” His eyes were wide, expectant. And his body language? Frantic. Like he was in a rush, for fear that he’d be found out. Who the hell would he be afraid of, though?

  Just to pacify him, I said, “Fine. What’s this about, anyway?”

  “I’ve heard…things.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits what happens to you—”

  “Jee, thanks,” I mumble.

  “—but the conversation I overheard the other day sounded pretty serious. Kearly, I think you might be in danger.” He peered up, looking at something behind me, his eyelids practically disappearing. “Shit,” he murmured.

  I turned around. Jessica stood a few feet away, arms crossed and red-faced.

  “What the hell is going on here?” she asked, her voice snappy, yet surprisingly composed.

  I ran with the first thing my mind came up with. “Ryan was filling me in on what happened in Mrs. Bryson’s class, since I missed first period.”

  “Bullshit,” said Jessica. “You don’t give a damn about your education, and Ryan doesn’t even like you. So, what’s this about?”

  I inched closer to her. “Or maybe you’re wrong. Maybe I do care, and you’re so blinded by the fact that you want me to fail in every aspect of my life, you can’t stomach the thought of me succeeding.”

  Jessica didn’t blink, initially. Then, she laughed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I shook my head and sat down at the table again, where my book bag occupied the chair next to me. I was too tired to argue and play games with these idiots. Ignoring Ryan and Jessica, I reverted to what I had previously planned—a nap. I lay my head down yet again, hoping I’d get some sleep before school was out.

  Suddenly, the table lifted, and my head followed, smacking against the hard surface.

  “Ow, shit!” I yelped, rubbing my cheek. Glancing up, Jessica stood over me, arms crossed. “Bitch, what’s your problem?”

  “My problem is you. Keep your lame ass away from my boyfriend. Got it?”

  Nobody was in sight. Not Ryan. Not our Media Specialist. Nobody, except Jessica and me.

  Great.

  “Look, that’s cute and all, but—”

  “But nothing,” Jessica interrupted. “You speak to, look at, or even think about Ryan, and I’ll end your pathetic existence.”

  I frowned. “That almost sounds like a threat, but coming from you, I know it won’t be carried out. You’re too weak.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, it is a threat. What little social standing you have left will be destroyed. You can kiss your parking spot goodbye. And you’ll be tormented every single day, until we graduate next year. Sit on that for awhile.”

  “There’s nothing to sit on; I’d bash in your face, so you wouldn’t be recognizable. Oops! There goes your social life, not mine. I’m pretty sure the student body would rejoice at you being reduced to nothing more than a has-been. Meanwhile, your boyfriend will still be screwing your best friends behind your back, which, as everyone in this school knows, isn’t anything new.” I smiled, then added, “Now, sit on that for awhile.”

  I folded my arms atop the table, resting my cheek against them, just in case she tried to pull another asshat move. I was so over her and Ryan. Why couldn’t they mind their own damn business and leave me alone?

  “Why am I not surprised?” Jessica continued. I didn’t even bother lifting my head to acknowledge her. “You’re no different than your alcoholic mother.”

  Okay, it was one thing for me to talk shit about my mom, but it was an entirely different scenario when somebody else did it.

  I raised my head and shouted, “What the fuck does my mom have to do with any of this?”

  Jessica’s sigh was exaggerated, and she rolled her eyes. “Everything.”

  “What?”

  “All I’m saying is if you don’t want to end up wasting your life away, like your skanky mom, then you better leave Ryan alone. I’ll make damn sure you never succeed at anything in this town, or the next. You think your life sucks now? You just wait until I call the shots.”

  The room pulsed red. I didn’t just stand up from the table—I flew across it, knocking Jessica to the ground, pummeling her with my fists. One punch. Two. Five. Nine. I lost count. Blood covered her face and my hands. She screamed and attempted to shove me off, but wasn’t successful.

  “Ladies, please!” Mrs. Stamell yelled.

  Strong hands encircled my waist, hoisting me off Jessica. Unrelenting, my arms swung, and my legs kicked. Principal Gibbs broke through the red haze around my vision, pulling me back to reality.

  Still winded, Principal Gibbs asked in an even tone, “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “I-I don’t know,” Jessica stammered. “She went crazy. Started attacking me. I swear I didn’t do anything. I swear.”

  Lying, scheming—

  “That’s it. Kearly, in my office. Now!” Principal Gibbs ordered.

  “But it wasn’t my—”

  “NOW!”

  I wasn’t positive, but on my way out, I could’ve sworn Jessica grinned. That crazy bitch!
She’d get what was coming to her. This wasn’t the end.

  Principal Gibbs kept a tight grip on my arm all the way to his office. I guessed it was so I wouldn’t try to run. He closed the door behind us and pointed towards the two cushioned-leather seats in front of his desk. I sat down, the upholstery groaning in protest.

  “Do I need to remind you about last year’s incident, and how the girl’s parents decided not to press charges?”

  “That wasn’t my fault. Katie stole my phone. What was I going to do, stand back and let her take it?”

  “But there wasn’t any proof she took it.”

  “My word should be proof enough. Why would I make something like that up?”

  Principal Gibbs’ mouth disappeared into a thin line, and his fingers steepled, the tips resting against his lips. “Do you know how many times a child comes into this office for bad behavior and says it’s not their fault?”

  I shook my head. Of course I don’t.

  “Every time. I can’t believe you, just like I can’t believe them. So, if we’re being honest here, did you start the fight with Jessica Lyons?”

  “She started it. She came over to me and wouldn’t shut up. Told me to stay away from her boyfriend, and—”

  “That’s not what I’m asking. Did you hit her first?”

  I gulped, the sounded amplified in my ears. There was no way around this, and there was no point in lying. Eventually, the truth would come out. “Yes.”

  Principal Gibbs briefly closed his eyes, then opened them once again, staring at me. “Thank you for being honest. Wait in my secretary’s office, until I get Jessica’s statement. Your parents or legal guardians will be notified, and we’ll proceed from there.”

  Yeah, I knew how this would work out: Tabitha would be too busy working and wouldn’t make it, so Jessica’s parents would be the only parents in attendance. Jessica would have people on her side. Her dad could easily write a check to fund one of the school’s booster programs, and Principal Gibbs would have no choice but to side with them. Not me, though. Not the delinquent. Nobody was ever on my side.

  “Just send me to the police station,” I told him. “That’s where I’ll end up, anyway.”

  “I suggest you wait until we have this sorted out.”

  Staring down at my linked fingers, I kept my gaze averted. “It’ll be sorted out when Jessica’s dad hands you a big, fat check, supporting the school.” I peered up at him through my lashes, and, not surprisingly, he didn’t protest. “And we both know my mom isn’t a regular visitor at PTA meetings.”

  “I’ll make a few phone calls, see if they can keep you out of a holding cell.”

  Wow, thanks. I’m moving up in the world.

  Principal Gibbs had a friend at the jail who came to pick me up. Luckily, I was saved the embarrassment of being led out in handcuffs. It was the end of the day, students were leaving to go home, and there was a cop car out front, in plain sight. Naturally, ninety percent of the student body lingered to find out what the cop was doing here.

  Heat rose up my neck, and into my cheeks, as all eyes were on me. The female police officer guided me to the backseat of her patrol car, then closed the door. It smelled like vomit, sweat, and shit. I swallowed several times, refraining from gagging. Did they ever clean out their cars? I’d rather eat my own underwear than inhale this stench.

  In an effort to keep my mind off the horrible odor, I asked, “What’s going to happen now?”

  “We’ll keep you in the booking area, just until we can get a hold of your mom, or if we hear differently.”

  Hours passed, or, at least, that’s what it felt like. Everyone in the booking area was handcuffed to a chair and was prohibited from speaking. I fell asleep, eventually waking up to an officer unlocking my cuffs.

  “Your mom is here to pick you up,” he said. “Follow me.”

  He led me through a few hallways, and we met Tabitha out front, where she was signing paperwork. She glanced up, but the look on her face was impossible to read, blank. Was she disappointed in me, or disappointed that she had to leave work and sign me out? Probably the latter.

  Tabitha asked, “Is that it?”

  The officer behind the counter responded, “Yep. That’s all we need.”

  Instead of greeting me like most parents would, my wonderful mom threw my book bag at me, turned on her heels, and made a beeline for the exit. The officer who led me out, and the officer behind the counter, gave me sympathetic glances, then left me standing there.

  I caught up with Tabitha. It was late; the moon was up, the stars were out. How long had I been in there?

  “Hey, what time is it?” I asked.

  She ignored me, briskly walking toward her car, which was parked about a mile away.

  “Mom?”

  Abruptly stopping, she whirled around, facing me. “What were you thinking?” I barely had time to open my mouth when she added, “Mr. Lyons is a wealthy man, who happens to own, and invest in, many businesses, including Bobby’s Bar. If he finds out I’m your mother, I could lose my job.”

  “It wasn’t my fault! Jessica aggravated me.” And, by the way, she said you were an alcoholic.

  “Oh, don’t be stupid. She did that on purpose, so she could look like the victim.”

  “Well, she was. I beat the shit out of her.”

  Tabitha’s eyebrows formed a V, and her face reddened. “That’s exactly what she wanted!” Then, she exhaled and stepped closer to me. Pointing a finger at my face, she said, “You had better hope this doesn’t backfire, or I’ll kick your ass out.”

  It was like someone simultaneously punched my stomach and throat. I deterred the sharp sting around my eyeballs; I didn’t want her to see my tears. And the unexpected swell in my esophagus made swallowing difficult.

  Tabitha ran a set of fingers through her hair. “I can’t do this anymore. Maybe I should send you off somewhere.”

  “What? Where the hell would I go?”

  She turned around, headed toward her car again. “I don’t know yet.”

  “It was one fight.”

  We slid into the front seats of Tabitha’s junker. I propped my elbow on the passenger door, resting my head against my palm. Neither of us spoke until we were about a block away from the high school.

  “You can walk from here,” said Tabitha.

  “It’s not even close.”

  “Get out!”

  So, I did. Tabitha sped off, leaving me on an empty street. Several of the street lights weren’t working, and I stood alone in the dark. It was cold. Quiet. Eerie. I dug through my book bag and pulled out my cell phone. Eighteen missed calls and twenty-five text messages. Really? The majority was from Liz and Dee wanting to know what the hell was going on, that they heard about the fight and the cop picking me up. But there were also two missed calls from the same unknown number that called me yesterday.

  Checking the time on my phone, I nearly screamed. It read: 11:03 p.m. I was supposed to meet Ryan at nine, and I didn’t have the means to get a hold of him. Unless he was the unknown number…

  I was about to find out. Pressing the number in my phone automatically dialed it. On my end, the call rang a few times before it clicked.

  “Kearly?”

  “Ryan?”

  “Yeah,” he said, in a tone that basically meant, Duh, who else would it be? “Where the hell are you? What’s going on? I heard cops carried you out of school after the fight.”

  Abstaining from laughter, I asked, “Is that what everyone’s saying? It sounds like a SWAT team strategically dragged me off to be interrogated for hours.”

  “Something like that.”

  I sighed. “No, that’s not what happened. Your stupid girlfriend decided to pick a fight and pretend it was all my fault. Ugh. Whatever. Anyway, it’s a long story, and I’m tired. Can we do the secret meeting some other time?”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” Did he actually sound disappointed? I thought he hated me. Or was he too brainless to remember tha
t part? “Just let me know.”

  “All right.”

  Hanging up, I returned my phone to my book bag, then searched for my car keys. The school’s parking lot came into view, but my heart took a nosedive into my stomach when I neared. My vehicle was covered in spray paint. Words like “bitch,” “slut,” and “whore” adorned the side doors and windshield.

  “Great,” I mumbled.

  There wasn’t anything I could do tonight—probably not tomorrow or the next day, either, because it wasn’t like spray paint magically dissolved with soap and water. And let’s face it: my car was a piece of shit. No paint job would help its appearance.

  I took a minute to rest as soon as I sat down. Closing my eyes, I wished I could disappear. After the past two days’ events, stressed out didn’t even begin to cover how I felt. My body and mind were being pulled in twenty different directions. What if the hot guy from my last dreamscape was a result of me staying inside that world for too long? Like when I returned home and had vision problems. He could’ve been similar to that, nothing more than a side effect.

  But then the other part of me wondered if he was real, if there was a secret society who wanted nothing more than to eradicate my kind, as he called us. I’d say it wasn’t possible, but shit, look at me. I was a walking impossibility. Nobody should be able to travel to destinations their minds created.

  Screw it. There was only way to handle this: visiting one of my imagination’s favorite spots. And no, it wasn’t Cyeor, though I loved it almost as much. No, this was the Plains of Glasslyn—a vale sandwiched between towering mountains, where my elf friends resided. There was something so peaceful and majestic about the area. I imagined the ornate gazebo overlooking a steadily-rushing stream, surrounded by trees with bright orange-and-red leaves, and fairies dancing from one branch to another. When I opened my eyes, I was there. Glasslyn. Home of the elves. A sun-drenched valley with plenty of greenery, tranquility, and magic.

  As I exited the gazebo and followed the stonework path leading to the center of town, a fairy landed on my shoulder. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Where have you been?” Her tiny voice reminded me of a star—brilliant and twinkling.

  “In my world,” I replied.

  Every time her wings fluttered, they made a noise similar to high-pitched bells, and her fairy dust sparkled on my shirt. “We missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” I smiled.

  She returned the grin, her body glowing a bit more intensely. Wings rapidly flapping, she lifted off my shoulder, flying to her tree, where her family waited. They all began dancing along one of the tree’s limbs, and my cheeks hurt from beaming. After their performance, they laughed with each other and waved at me. I applauded their presentation. They bowed over and over again, which was followed by more giggling.

  Strolling toward the city’s main hub was literally a walk in the park. The elves maintained the landscape so perfectly, it looked like one big recreational area. Trees, grass, bushes, flowers—every piece of nature was well-preserved. The setting was flawless. But most of all, it was serene, one of the many reasons I loved Glasslyn so much.

  I neared a bridge curving over cascading water, the path leading to the village. Vine-wrapped buildings came into view. Structures made of coiled metal and wood were normal for the elves, though. They cared greatly about appearances, their houses and shops reflecting this ideal. Stores enclosed the courtyard area of the market, where a stone fountain spouted water from the very heart of the bazaar, and children ran after their beloved pets. Where sprigs of grass poked through cobblestones, and crisp orange-and-red leaves crunched underneath my shoes. There weren’t words to describe what Glasslyn did to my emotions, but enchanting me came pretty close.

  “Kearly!” a male cried out. My eyes scanned the perimeter, until they found the source. It was Holudir. He glided toward me, his gray robe trailing behind. “Where have you been? You have not visited Glasslyn of late.”

  I shrugged. “I was busy at home, but I’m here now.”

  “Ah, yes, that you are. Come with me. Lithuel foresaw your arrival, and she wishes to greet you in person. She has troubling news, I fear.”

  Lithuel was clairvoyant, but I wasn’t sure how well she could actually predict my future. It wasn’t like she was a real person, with a real gift. She was a part of my imagination. Nothing more than a dolled-up fantasy.

  I walked with Holudir to many Elvin structures atop a hill. Coiled metalwork wound upward above each home, concluding in a long, sharp point jutting toward the blue sky. Most of the town resided here, and those who didn’t lived in the wooded regions surrounding Glasslyn. Holudir led me inside one of the houses, where Lithuel sat at a table, her crystals strewn before her.

  “Come in, Kearly,” she directed. “We have much to discuss.”

  “Do we?”

  She peered into her glowing crystals, then at me. “There is a dark shadow looming over you, and the source is constantly near. You must rid yourself of this shade.”

  Unless she was talking about my stress levels, I wasn’t sure what she meant. “How?”

  Lithuel’s eyes widened. “He’s coming,” she hissed.

  I took a step back. “Who?”

  Outstretching her hand, her index finger pointed toward the door behind me. Without hesitation, I swung it open, peering outside. I didn’t see a damn thing. What the hell was she talking about? Anger surged through my body, like molten lava. I came to Glasslyn for some rest and relaxation, not to have the local Elvin psychic warn me of my impending doom, or whatever she was talking about.

  “There’s nothing out there,” I said, twisting to face her. “Nothing.” Glancing back and forth between Lithuel and Holudir, I asked, “Is that all you wanted with me?”

  Holudir glimpsed at Lithuel, and she responded, “That is all I can see. Kearly, you must believe me. You are in grave danger.”

  Ugh. This was ridiculous. I had enough bullshit to worry about in my normal life, so I wanted to avoid the same here. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently it was, in the realm of fantasy. First, I had a rival warrior clan declare war on my kingdom on Cyeor. Now this. What was next, everyone in Central Falls finding out my secret?

  Marching out of Lithuel’s home, I strode toward the woodland region surrounding the city. It’d be quiet there. At least, that’s what I hoped for. The trees always comforted me, kept me safe. They were like stout protectors from unseen forces.

  Just ahead, a tall, black mist hovered above the ground. Its edge constantly extending outward and inward, like the haze was alive and couldn’t be stationary.

  “In a hurry to get somewhere?” said a male.

  I froze. Every hair on my neck stood tall. I knew that voice; it was him, the one who freely walked into my imagination without my permission. The one who warned me to stop using my ability or the secret society would find me.

  The guy emerged, shedding the dark cloud like a cloak. “Did I not warn you?”

  I was too astonished that he was here, standing in front of me. Again. Stupidly, I had the idea that he wasn’t real, that I had been losing my mind and made him up. But now I knew that wasn’t true.

  “Speechless?” he said, his lips curving upward into a sly grin. “I have that effect most of the time.”

  Screw your freakin’ head on straight!

  “I thought you weren’t real,” I responded. That was it? That was the best I could do?

  The guy chuckled, and the sound echoed from deep within. “Well, of course I’m real. I’m not the Boogeyman.”

  “More like the Sandman,” I mumbled.

  “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have work to do, and you’ll have to come with me, so we can get this over with.”

  “Get what over with?”

  He cocked one eyebrow. “Erasing your imagination.”

  Reaching out, he grabbed my arm, but I yanked it from his grip. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Fine,” he said, releasing
his hold, “but you’ll quickly learn I always get what I want, Kearly Ashling. And right now, your mind is first on my to-do list. Sooner or later, you’ll start having side effects, and, from what I’ve heard, they can be a real bitch to control.”

  Side effects? Like me temporarily losing my vision?

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Hands sliding into his jean pockets, he casually stated, “Oh, you will. You don’t have a choice.”

  “The hell I don’t!” I shut my eyes, thought of my home, of sitting on my bed amid piles of clothing and books.

  Opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was the mysterious man standing in the same spot, with that same sly smile attached to his face and his arms crossed over his chest. I didn’t return home. I wasn’t on my comfy bed, amid piles of clothing. I never left Glasslyn.

  “Do you believe me now?” he asked, eyes dancing.

  I screamed.

  7