Breaking Bloody Mary

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Breaking Bloody Mary Page 1

by Stephanie Nichole




  Copyright

  Breaking Bloody Mary is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  BREAKING VLOODY MARY: A NOVEL

  Copyright © 2018 by Stephanie Nichole

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by KP Editing

  Cover design by KP Designs

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Dedication:

  This book is for all those “weird kids” who preferred to have their nose in a book and their head in the clouds.

  For those “weird kids” who believed in magic and legends.

  For those “weird kids” that were just a little left of center.

  For those “weird kids” that never feel like we quite fit in…we do.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication:

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Olivette

  Penn and I anxiously sat in the back seat of my mom’s suburban as we make our way to Concord for our moms to have a spa day. Every month our moms get together, and we drive into Concord from Newport so that they can get their hair, nails, and pedicures done. Our moms have been best friends all of their lives which led to Penn and I being best friends now. Penn and I really look forward to the trip because next door to the salon is a really neat little shop called, Conjurer’s Apothecary, to most it probably seems spooky, but not to us.

  Last year our moms started to let us roam a little up and down the block where the salon was located. Penn found the shop next door and I’ll admit I was terrified of it. The windows were darkly tinted, and all kinds of creepy stuff sat in the window. Penn gave me a hard time about not wanting to go in, so I had swallowed my fear, marched up to the door, and walked inside. In all honesty; I think Penn was scared too because it took him a moment to move from his spot outside the store.

  When I entered, the smell of spices and herbs filled my nose followed with the smell of books. In some ways it reminded me of a library only better. The lights inside were muted giving a tinted glow to the store. Curtains hung in different areas to section things off. Mismatched rugs line every inch of the floor. In the first room there were some worn, oversized chairs sitting, encased by large wood bookshelves. The bookshelves were stacked with books laying on top of other books and some stacked in front of others. It was a mess but seemed to suit the shop. The next room, if you want to call it that, had jars and plastic bags full of herbs and spices. I’d never seen so many in one place.

  At the counter there was an old Victorian type register. Behind the tiny counter was a wall full of jewelry. Most of it looks vintage and expensive. The store was overwhelming to my seven-year-old senses at the time. Finally, a man appeared from behind a black curtain in the back of the store. He was average height with tanned skin. His hair was dark and hung to his chin. The man was dressed different than I was used to. My dad either wore a suit to work or jeans and a polo on his days off. This man had on jeans full of holes, worn out combat boots, a shirt that had a very deep v in it with a vest over that. He had a collection of necklaces around his neck and a ring on every finger. His eyes landed on Penn and I causing me to suck in air. His eyes were different, they were so dark that they almost looked black, yet they were inviting. Although, at this point I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. I was certain that our parents hadn’t mean for us to come into a place like this.

  The man got down to our level. “Well, hello there little ones. What brings you into my little world?” he asked. His voice was thick with an unusual accent. Neither, Penn nor I spoke. The man stood up and extended his hand. “I’m Oski, the conjurer himself.”

  Penn took his hand. “I’m Penn and this is my best friend Olivette.”

  Oski smiled at us. “Nice to meet the two of you. Would you like some tea?”

  My mom always warned us about strangers and I was certain she would mean this man too, but Penn had already accepted and was walking beside him toward the back. I wanted to scream, but that would do no good, so I followed them. I was the one that got him into this mess by walking in here and I’d make sure to get him out.

  It turns out that Oski was harmless. He was just a man that believed in urban legends and magic in the world. Who could fault him for that? He believed in things that most people wouldn’t, but he made us a believer too. After that day we looked forward to coming with our moms because we couldn’t wait to see Oski and hear what story he’d tell us that day.

  I think at first, he worried that the stories would scare us and maybe they should have but I found myself craving them. I wanted to hear them, I wanted to live them, I wanted to breathe them. These stories had become our life. Penn and I would spend hours discussing the different stories and legends that Oski told us. Penn was smart and would always try to think of a way to free the ghost of the story and what not. That’s who he was. I was always most curious about how the story or legend came to be. We got a new story every month but none of them stuck with us quite like the legend he told us that very first day over hot tea and warm cookies. The curse of Bloody Mary.

  From that moment on Penn and I looked up every part of the legend. There were so many versions but none of them compared to the one Oski told us, so I chose to believe that one. It seemed the most likely. As obsessed as we became with the legend we never tested the theory of calling her name in front of a bathroom mirror three times. Maybe, because we truly believed in the legend or maybe, it was because we didn’t want to find out that magic wasn’t real, either way we never tried it.

  For seven years, once a month Penn and I would visit Oski in that creepy yet inviting little store. We’d hear the legends and stories from his mouth and he was a great storyteller. Sometimes he’d even give us a book to go along with it. A love for the stories that bonded us together until they didn’t, but can a bond ever really be broken? Especially, when a curse is ready to unleash at any moment?

  Chapter 1

  Olivette

  My alarm woke me up to the sounds of Panic! At the Disco. I rolled over and found the remote to my stereo system, turning down the volume a little, I roll onto my back and stare at my ceiling fan as it moves around and around above me. Today is a game day and just like any other game day, I’m dreading it. You’d think I’d live for
these days, but I don’t. There’s nothing I’d rather do less than spend my Friday night cheering at a game then going to some dumb after party. Not even my boyfriend Triv can make that bearable. If it wasn’t for my bestie, Chasity, there’s no way I’d survive it all.

  Two years ago, during the summer before I started my freshman year of high school, I gave into my mother’s request and became what she wanted; the perfect daughter. She wanted the shining star of the town. The daughter that dated the town’s golden boy. The daughter that she could brag about to all her friends.

  Before that fateful summer I had been shy and quiet. I had friends, but I spent most of my time with Penn Collins. He was my next-door neighbor and the son of my mother’s best friend. Penn and I had been inseparable, and I didn’t mind. We had so much in common. We liked the same music, movies, and TV shows. However, is was out love and obsession with urban legends and lore that really bonded us. He was my best friend until I decided to become my mother’s shining star. The hardest part of it all was Penn is still my next-door neighbor. Our mothers are still best friends and we still have most of our classes together since we are both in advanced placement classes.

  You hear people all the time talk about how you can be lonely even though you’re surrounded by people. Well, I’m living proof that is indeed true. I’m constantly surrounded by people, yet I often feel like I’m a deserted island. Sitting in the same class as Penn is always an eye-opening experience. Seeing him talking with his replacement best friend, Bannen, sucks. Penn is always just himself, nerdy, too smart for his own good, Penn. While I have to play a role that I never really wanted. I liked the nerdy version of me. At least I didn’t feel alone then.

  I truly believe I would have quit the cheerleading team if it wasn’t for Chasity. She and I shared the same eclectic taste. While most of our fellow cheerleaders listened to bubble gum pop that makes my ears want to bleed. She and I had a love for Panic! At the Disco, Fall Out Boy, and Death Cab for Cutie. Now, don’t get me wrong, Chasity and I had both passed through the pop phase of music and we still visited it from time to time when we road tripped to the next town over. Enough, about Chasity for now.

  I rolled out of bed and hopped in the shower. After slipping on my cheerleading uniform and securing my ponytail with my cheer bow, I headed downstairs but not before I caught a glimpse of Penn. Another thing that sucked about not being best friends with your best friend anymore is when you live next door to each other. My room and Penn’s face each other which also meant that we both had direct eyesight into each other’s worlds through at least one window.

  Often, I wondered what Penn saw when or if he looked into my room. Surely, he could see that I wasn’t a total sell out. My room didn’t reflect that of my fellow peers that cheered. I’d seen their rooms, all white and pink. Mine was darker, black, red, gray, and pops of white. Yes, I had a Twilight themed bedroom. Could you honestly blame a teenage girl for being in love with Edward Cullen? I mean, who didn’t want a guy like him? Minus, the whole vampire thing.

  There’s yet another reason I don’t fit into my peer group. I read for fun. I love it! Granted my reading tastes can be slightly…different than most sixteen-year-old girls that actually read in their free time. That was just another reason why I hated game nights. I’d rather be at home with one of my books. I loved a good fantasy novel, Stephen King, mythology, or lore books. No one seemed to understand that except Chasity and Penn, he would get it if we we’re still friends.

  Grabbing my backpack, I slip out my door with one more backwards glance in Penn’s direction. Luckily, I slip out the front door without being stopped by my parents. Hopping into my car I turn on my phone and back out. Singing along to the music I pull into the student parking lot next to Chasity and hop out. Taking in Chasity’s appearance I shake my head. It’s mandatory that on game days we wear our uniforms with a ponytail and our cheer bows. Of course, Chasity doesn’t follow the rules. She’s one of those “rules are made to be broken” types. So, does it shock me that her hair is down? Nope. At this point nothing that Chasity does shocks me. She’s a triple S, something we came up with, sassy, sarcastic, and smart mouthed. “You know Leah is going to have a heart attack when she sees your hair down, right?”

  “Is that before or after she sees these?” Chasity asks waving her fingers in the air. They are painted jet black which is also a big no, no on the squad. We are only allowed to have natural gloss on and no jewelry which Chasity ignored by wearing her nose ring.

  I shake my head as we make our way into the school. “You never listen.”

  “Now, where’s the fun in that?” she asks with a giggle. We make our way into the school while planning for our Sunday binge day. Almost every Sunday Chasity and I get together and binge watch something on Netflix. Lately, we’ve been on a Supernatural kick.

  Chasity and I click because we both march to the beat of a different drum so to speak. We both find fantasy and supernatural things interesting. She doesn’t judge me for anything that isn’t the norm and that’s refreshing. We are interrupted when someone comes up behind me and wraps their arms around my waist. I smell the coffee on his breath and I know instantly, it’s Triv.

  Trivitt Jacobs. The schools star athlete and the towns golden boy. Triv can do no wrong in most people’s eyes but he’s far from perfect. I’ve learned all about him over the past couple of years. Trivitt is that guy in high school that all the girls want to date and that all the guys want to be. He’s tall and all muscle, with hair so dark it’s almost black and hazel eyes. He looks like he’s ready to step on a movie set at any given moment with his bone structure. All of these things are great, but that’s where most of it ends. There’s not much else to Triv, unless it has to do with a ball he has no interest in it. If it wasn’t for me, I doubt he’d pass his classes. Often, I wonder if that’s why he’s still with me?

  For the first six months we were just friends until he finally asked me out. At first everything was new and fresh. I found it all exciting, cheerleading, Triv, popularity, but once the newness of it wore off so did the excitement. Triv didn’t really care about me not like he should. He’d been pressuring me about sex for the past year, but I wasn’t dumb. I knew as soon as he got that he was gone. Besides, I didn’t love him either.

  “Hey babe,” Triv whispers into my ear before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

  He’s always been great at keeping up appearances and that’s what this is. He can fool anyone just ask the town. “Hey,” I reply.

  “So, Danny decided to host a party at my place tonight after the game.”

  “Of course, he did,” I reply with a smile, but I know he can hear the sarcasm in my voice. There’s always a party after the game that someone decides to host at Triv’s house. I want to roll my eyes, but I hold them back. Triv gets distracted when some of the football team hollers at him across the hallway. He leaves me and Chasity at our lockers. I feel his eyes on me before I ever spot him, Penn.

  Penn

  The worst part about not being friends with your best friend anymore is that no matter what, you still know that person. You still feel that automatic pull toward them. It could be to protect and defend them. It could be to make them smile when you know the one on their face is fake. It could be for any reason but no matter what, you’re still bonded to them. Through all the secrets and memories an indestructible bond is forged. The second worst part is that when your best friend changes over night. You know this person, yet you don’t anymore. When they let you down it cuts deeper than most and every time you see them the scab is ripped off, never allowing it to really heal.

  Being a part of Olivette’s life without actually being a part of it is a new form of torture. One I should be used to now but I’m not. I also help that torture along because I sneak glances at her every chance I get. Just like now as I’m in my room getting ready for school I find myself glancing out the window and into her room. I see her walking around gathering things, dressed in her cheerlead
ing uniform.

  I knew Olivette, better than anyone for a long time and not once did she ever mention wanting to be a cheerleader. So, you can imagine my surprise when she announced that she was going to try out for the team, one day out of the blue. I had laughed it off but turns out she was serious. One-minute Olivette, was just Olivette, the one I knew and loved. The gorgeous girl who didn’t realize she was. The girl who was smarter than me and quicker than a whip. The girl who loved urban legends, lore, and all things supernatural just as much, if not more, than I did. That girl was my best friend. We looked forward to our mother’s monthly pampering trips because we got to see Oski, hear another story from him, get another book. That was what we loved.

  Then Olivette tried out for the cheerleading team and everything changed. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that she’d make the team, but she did. Turns out she was a natural. The next thing I knew she was going off to cheer camp in the summer and spending all her free time practicing. That’s when it started, the drift. The drift that would eventually end our friendship. She was never around anymore and when she was she wasn’t the same person.

  Eventually, it all came to a head. All of it still burned into my memory like a bad sunburn. The things said and the look in her eyes. The hurt etched on her face despite her best efforts to hide it. I hated myself in that moment, yet I couldn’t bring myself to apologize or try to fix the break I just caused. I stood there, defiant and glaring. It wasn’t until the tear leaked out the corner of her eye and made a trail down her cheek that I felt the pain of regret. When she turned on her heel and hurried away I decided to go after her, but it was too late. The break was too large to mend and I watched her blonde hair as she walked the rest of the way out of my life.

  It’s hard to believe that was only two years ago. The wound still feels fresh. The wound will never heal because every time I see her it’s a fresh reminder of all that I lost. I rub my hands through my hair before I grab my book bag and head to school.

 

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