by L K Walker
A knock came at the bathroom door.
“Honey, are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.” Her mum’s voice was gentle.
“Yip, just getting out now,” Ari heard the monotone in her speech as she responded.
She could see her grief devastated her parents. They felt useless in their failure to comfort her, but Ari loved them for their efforts all the same. But today of all days, she couldn’t deny the pain. Today was the funeral.
Ari threw on clothes for the service. She hadn’t meant to dress all in black, but when she looked down that was what she wore. She wrapped a pink scarf around her neck in a feeble attempt to add some colour.
Adele quietly played in the car on the way to the funeral. Normally, Nevaeh would have changed songs, saying it made her feel desperately sad or something like that. Today, it seemed to be the ideal soundtrack.
Stepping from the car, Ari regarded the large grey clouds covering the sky, threatening rain. She felt transfixed by their apathetic crawl across the sky. Nevaeh silently linked her arm in Ari’s and led her along the footpath.
Large wooden arches framed the two doors into the church. Nevaeh pushed one open and ushered Ari inside. The interior was rustic, solidly built. Wooden pews blended with the rich wood covering the walls. At the front in the chancel was a pulpit draped in red velvet. Beautifully intricate stained glass windows spanned the entire reach of the back wall.
The church was packed, all the seats occupied, and people lined the walls. Two men offered them seats. Ari and Nevaeh thanked them, before taking their places in the back row.
A few shards of light broke through the stained glass windows, littering the floor with a multitude of colours. The illumination dissipated before it got to the edge of the chancel, leaving the mourners in an unnatural half-light, drawing shadows on their faces. The colours flickered as the clouds slid their way across the sky. It was as if they were taunting the mourners, providing them a glimpse of happiness and beauty that was just beyond their reach.
To Ari, the sadness in the church was crushing, and it took all of her self-control to stay seated. She could see Luke's family in the front row. She knew his mother well enough but now hardly recognised her face. Grief had misshapen her features, once so warm and engaging.
As Luke’s sister stood before them and spoke, finally, Ari began to cry, letting the pain in. The young girl moved them with beautiful words spluttered through desperate tears as she tried to finish her eulogy.
As the service neared its end, Ari felt fear and anger bubbling up. They were the same emotions that had consumed her at Nevaeh’s house the night she brought her friend home drunk from the party. Images of the shadows facing off against one another sparked back to life, vivid thoughts swathed her mind.
This time, the feelings barrelled at her like a train. She sat and waited for the impact. A woman sitting next to her glanced across uneasily as Ari's body shuddered and she gave a moan of pain. The emotions filled her like an over-inflated balloon, and she teetered on the point of exploding.
It was too much. She couldn’t catch her breath. Ari frantically looked around for an escape route, eyes locking on the door. With as much self-control as she could muster, she stood, pushed past the men who had given up their seats and headed for the exit.
Ari placed both palms on the old wooden door and forced it open. It let out a lamenting groan as its seal with the church yielded. Everyone would see her leave early, not that she cared right now. Her only thoughts were of escape.
*****
Ari sucked in a lung full of fresh air, trying to clear her head, but it wasn’t enough. The feelings were still there, still strong and still coming for her. Something pressed against her lower back. She hadn't heard anyone coming and jumped as if receiving an electric shock. As she turned, Ari found Nevaeh standing beside her, hand outstretched, her face crinkled with concern. Nevaeh steered her towards a bench seat that encircled an old and twisted tree to the side of the church entrance.
“Are you okay?” Nevaeh’s voice was soft and reassuring.
“I could hardly breathe—needed some fresh air.”
As she spoke, the feelings intensified. She turned to face the direction they seemed to be coming from. A wave of malice knocked her off balance. It was then she saw him. A man, dressed in black, as most of the funeral’s attendees were, but he appeared to wear the clothes as a badge of distaste rather than as a mark of respect. The sneer on his face couldn’t be mistaken for sorrow. His amusement was out of place at the church. Ari stared at him. He was a good-looking man, but his features were sharp and hard, and his demeanour unsettling. Somehow, this turned his good looks into something much less attractive. His dark hair sat in lustrous waves, long enough to reach the bottom of his ears. A slight breeze brushed the strands away from his face.
He was halfway along the path when he seemed to register Ari and Nevaeh’s presence. The man rearranged his expression into something more solemn before gazing in their direction. Light blue irises flicked between Ari and Nevaeh. His stride faltered then came to a complete halt. He looked directly at Ari, his eyes riveted to her face. Ari repressed a shudder. There was something very different about this man. She would have sworn she could feel his presence. She would know exactly where he was even if her eyes were closed. The invasive feelings she desperately tried to ward off originated from him. The thoughts and feelings she had had at Nevaeh’s house, the partly drawn curtain looking into the yard, the two figures—all of it was real. It hadn't been her imagination running wild. It was him. He had been there, and now here he was standing right in front of her, in the daylight, blatantly staring straight at her with shock-filled eyes.
Ari searched her mind for memories of that night. Something was different. Something was missing. The feeling of hope, of happiness, which had given her strength at Nevaeh's house, it hadn’t come to counter the wretched emotions. In its absence, she felt abandoned and scared. Her left hand slipped along the seat beside her, groping for Nevaeh’s hand. Finding it, she grabbed hold, squeezing tightly, silently crying out for support. Nevaeh said nothing, just squeezed back. Nevaeh turned to face her, Ari could see that much from the corner of her eye, but she dared not divert her attention away from this man. She wouldn't look away this time. She couldn’t. Last time, when she’d done that, he had disappeared.
The strange man finally came out of his trance. The confused look on his face quickly morphed to one of derision, and he started walking towards them.
Ari edged back in her seat.
The banging of the church doors made her jump. The funeral goers started to filter out of the church. The sneer left the man’s face, momentarily replaced by annoyance, before the solemn look re-emerged. He turned his head back to the path and moved once again towards the church doors, mingling with the mourners. He took one last look over his shoulder and then was gone, swallowed up by the people spilling out.
“What the hell was that?” Nevaeh blurted out, her voice full of panic.
Ari sat there, silent, trying to process what had happened, knowing her world had just changed but not why or by what.
Nevaeh’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Ari, hey, what the hell was that? Whoever he was—the way he looked at you. It was terrifying. I can't stop shaking.”
Ari didn't know what to say to Nevaeh or how to explain what she thought had just happened. But Nevaeh, too, had noticed his malevolence. Feared him. But had she felt it too? Had she felt the emotions coming directly from him?
“Did you know that guy?” Nevaeh snapped.
An almost inaudible, “no,” parted Ari's lips.
“That was so disturbing, he was just staring. I don’t know about you, but I don't want to be here when he comes back. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Nevaeh grabbed Ari’s hand.
“Let's go,” Ari agreed.
Nevaeh led her from the church grounds the same way she had led her in, arms hooked. This time though, much faster. As Nevaeh
dragged her along, Ari continually checked they weren’t being followed.
The car was parked a block away. As soon as they reached it, Nevaeh dropped Ari's hand to fumble for the keys in her handbag.
“We’ll go to my place,” Nevaeh said.
That jolted Ari from her trance. He had been there. He could find them there. Nevaeh’s house was the one place they shouldn’t go.
“No. Not there.” The words came out sharp as if she was scolding a naughty child.
Nevaeh flinched. Her mouth opened to protest, but instead she took a deep breath.
“Where to?” she asked instead.
“Can we go to mine?”
As the car gained distance from the church, Ari started to relax again. The feelings began to fall away. She rested back on the seat and let her head relax against the headrest.
“What just happened, Ari? Who was that guy?” Nevaeh asked.
“Pull over.” Ari's voice was urgent.
“What? Why?”
“Just pull over.”
Nevaeh yanked the wheel to the side, aiming at an empty spot free of cars. Ari expected the tyre to catch the kerb and braced for the impact. They missed by millimetres. Ari unbuckled her seat belt before the car had a chance to stop. She threw the door wide open. The bottom of it scraped along the footpath, letting out a sharp, metallic graunch. Ari's head made it clear of the car just in time and she watched her partly digested breakfast heave into the gutter. The feelings, swimming in her, had been too much to cope with. Her body had found the only way it could to purge some of her distress.
“You alright?” Nevaeh asked, rubbing reassuring circles on Ari’s back.
Ari nodded.
The queasy feeling had gone. She spat into the gutter and wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve. After flopping back into her seat, she put her seat belt on and tried to ignore the rancid smell wafting into the car.
“Okay, I'm good now.”
*****
The strange man entered the church as the mourners slowly filed out. He hated to leave the girl on the bench, but he couldn’t do anything about her with so many witnesses about. He looked around the room and saw two girls, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old, talking with an older woman. All had red eyes, a mark of the tears they had shed.
“Thanks, Mrs Williams,” said one of the girls.
The older lady responded by placing a hand on the girl's shoulder and giving her a comforting smile.
The man walked up to Mrs Williams and in his sincerest voice introduced himself.
“Hello, my name is Dominic Grey. Are you a teacher at the school?”
It was a pretty safe bet to think she would be. Her mannerisms, speech, how she interacted with the girls, who were most likely students, all suggested it.
“Yes, I am. How can I help?” She turned to give the stranger her full attention.
“Actually, it was me who was hoping to be of some assistance. I’m a counsellor, relatively new to town, and I heard what happened. I am very sorry for your loss. It’s such a tragedy when they are so young. I hoped to offer my services to your students, free of charge, of course.” He handed over a business card.
“Well, that is very kind of you Mr, umm …” She stole a look at the card. “Mr Grey.”
“Anything I can do to help.” He plastered on a supportive smile. “My contact details are on the card.” He tapped a well-groomed nail on the top of the card, just above his number.
With a practised look of sympathy, he took his leave. As he left the church, he checked to see if the girl still sat by the tree. But she and her friend were gone. She had taken him completely by surprise, and now that she had vanished he wished he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He shrugged. She would show up again somewhere among these weeping morons.
The counsellor routine was always an easy way to gain him access to a few souls that he could manipulate, but not until later. He meant to disappear as quickly as he had arrived. But as he was leaving, a beautiful blonde girl caught his eye. Her stare was intent, and it was locked on him. Unlike the others around her, her eyes were not red. He gave her a sly wink and let one side of his face pull up into a mischievous smirk. When she returned the smile, it almost shocked him. He walked over to the girl, pulled out another of his business cards and handed it to her, gently brushing his hand against hers.
“In case you need some support during this difficult time.” His tone was quiet, so only she could hear. There was not a hint of condolence in it, only the suggestion of sex.
Michelle fluttered her eyelashes at the man, then took his card and slipped it into her pocket.
seven
Ari hesitantly stepped inside her front door, afraid that someone might be lying in wait. Her parents were both at work. The house should be empty, quiet. A single finger held to her lips told Nevaeh to be silent. Ari stood at the threshold and listened. She could only detect the whirr of the fridge, and even that was barely audible above her own breathing. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. The faint smell of toast reached her nose, no doubt from the breakfast she had nibbled at before leaving for the funeral. The house hadn’t been disturbed.
Ari, satisfied no one was going to jump out at her, ventured further into the house. As soon as Nevaeh was through the door, Ari took a last look around the front yard, closed the door behind them and bolted it shut, resting her back against it. Nevaeh’s brow furrowed with concern as she watched Ari’s strange behaviour.
“Can I talk now?” Nevaeh whispered.
“Yes.”
“Good, ‘cause you’re starting to weird me out. Who was that guy—and why was he glaring at you like that? He gave me the creeps, and he wasn’t even looking at me.”
“I don't know who he was.”
“Well then, why the hell would he stop like that?”
“Nevaeh ...” Ari started into an explanation but stopped short when she realised that whatever came out of her mouth next was going to change her friend’s opinion about her sanity.
“What is it, Ari? You're not telling me something. What is it?” Nevaeh’s voice was firm.
Ari let out a deep sigh. She motioned for her friend to take a seat on the couch and then flopped into an armchair with a line of sight to the front door. The chair gave off a faint cloud of dust, which danced in the insipid shaft of light that divided the space between the two of them.
After a short pause, Ari launched into it.
“I know what I’m about to say is going to sound a little nuts, and I'm still not convinced it isn't.”
“I already know you're nuts. That’s why we get on so well.” Nevaeh tried to lighten the mood, but Ari was wound too tight for it to work. “Hey, we’ve been mates for years. Give me enough credit to know I'll still be sitting here at the end of the story.”
“Okay.” Ari took a deep breath. “I sort of—well, I feel things that I don't think others do. I could feel that guy coming towards us.” Ari’s voice faded.
“Feel him. How?”
“He was angry. When he was standing in front of me staring, it radiated from him like heat from an oven. I didn't need to see him to know he was there.”
Ari, up until to this point, had been talking to the glass-topped coffee table positioned squarely in the middle of the room. Her words sounded fantastical, even to her ears. If they reversed their roles, Ari wasn’t sure whether she would understand, and that was why she couldn’t look at Nevaeh, she couldn't bear to see a look of disbelief in her eyes. Ari continued to have the conversation with the table. Finally, she had run out of things to say. When no reply came, Ari lifted her gaze to Nevaeh’s. As expected, her friend’s eyes were wide, her eyebrows raised and her lips slightly parted, as if she was going to say something.
Ari said the only thing that felt real at that moment, “I’m sorry.” She apologised for who she was and for letting Nevaeh glimpse the part of her she had done her best to keep hidden.
Nevaeh just looked at her.
&nb
sp; “I know how it must sound,” Ari went on, pained by the silence, “... and to dump it on you like this. Especially today.”
Ari’s eyes once again swelled with tears. She shook her head, hoping that somehow that would delay the grief for a little longer. The idea that she could lose Nevaeh today was unbearable.
Nevaeh’s eyes were glassy too, and her voice tremored as she spoke.
“Is that how you found me?”
“What? Found you where?” Ari didn’t understand.
“Is that how you found me the other day, at the park, after Ellie took a dig at me over that Matt thing? It wasn’t like I’d been to that park before or had even meant to turn up there myself, and you said no one had seen me going in there. This thing you have, is it how you found me?”
Nevaeh was piecing it together.
“I suppose so,” Ari conceded.
“I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or freaked out.”
“You should be freaked out, then I wouldn't be the only one,” Ari said.
“So that scary guy—you could feel him?” It was hard to comprehend. Ari wasn’t sure she did either, not properly, so it wasn’t a big surprise that Nevaeh was struggling with it too.
“I’ve never felt like that before. What I got from him was horrible, like his anger was in me but not quite the same as how I would feel it. It’s hard to explain.” Ari rubbed her head while gathering her thoughts. “I felt it like anger without the inner churning, without the mindless hostility.”
Nevaeh’s face looked sceptical.
“We've just been through something pretty massive. Are you sure it wasn't just, you know, feelings from having to say goodbye to Luke and Mike? Maybe you’re more sensitive to this stuff than the rest of us? No one would think any less of you for it.”
