Angels and Magic

by E. J. Bennett

  My first thought is that she is another police officer, wanting to ask more questions. Nothing could prepare me for the shock of the words Clara spoke.

  "This is your Grandmother." Clara looks at the floor, and a single tear slides down her face. David sits beside her, gently patting her back, his face devoid of emotion.

  My heart speeds up and then sinks. Excitement, confusion, curiosity and then finally sadness all rush over me.

  The woman stands gracefully taking a step towards me. Natural instinct tells me to step back.

  "Kayla Crystal Grace, it is so good to finally meet you," she holds out her perfectly manicured hand, her voice steady with a hint of authority.

  How can this be? The police could not find any information about me. They joked and called me the girl with no past. How can this woman be my Grandmother?

  Shaking my head, I take another step back. The situation is too much. My head spins with so many questions and doubts. My mind is suddenly on overdrive ready to explode.

  "NO!" I yell through gritted teeth.

  She is a stranger and nothing more.

  The years of wanting to know about family, about my past is momentarily forgotten. My mind scrambles to make sense of the situation.

  The sad and helpless look on Clara's face rips me apart. They are my family, the people who have raised me, loved me through everything, had patience and understanding, soothed my tears. They have guided and nurtured me into the girl I am today. All these years of wanting to know my past now feels wrong, like I'm betraying them, inflicting pain on them.

  "My name is Kayla Wilson," I spit.

  This woman has done nothing to me. She does not deserve the way I am treating her.

  The gasp and shocked looks on David and Clara's faces makes me bow my head in embarrassment and shame. I have never spoken to anyone this way.

  Clara's words of wisdom echoes inside me.

  "Always treat people with a kind and loving nature no matter how horrible that person is. Be strong and overcome the anger and hatred. Treat people how you would like to be treated."

  "I am sorry; this must be very confusing for you. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson have informed me that you know nothing of your past and your memories have been lost, so I would like to have a chat with you. If you will, please join me?" Her words are formal and spoken clearly. Not a hint of emotion.

  The guilt from my behavior and curiosity taking over, I nod my head in agreement. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I slowly make my way into the living room perching on the edge of the armchair, across from the lady.

  Clara and David leave the room giving us some privacy. We stare at each other for several moments. Her face is a blank canvas, her eyes not revealing anything.

  "As I said, I am your Grandmother. Your mother Hope was my daughter. I would like you to come live with me. I would like to have the chance to know my Granddaughter."

  This woman must have lost her mind if she thinks that I am going to leave my home, my family and friends, my life.

  "No, thank you. I am happy here."

  "I don't think you understand my dear. It is not an option or up for negotiation. I have already signed all the relevant paperwork. Someone will be here in three days to pick you up and escort you to your new home. I presume that is enough time to say your goodbyes and gather any belonging you wish to bring. I look forward to getting to know you." She stands, looks at me with her blank eyes and leaves. The sound of the door closing vibrates through my body.

  Who does this woman think she is? She cannot just waltz into my life, no explanation, no nothing and demand that I live with her. But she strikes me as someone who gets what she wants at all cost and unfortunately, that is me.

  Hot tears stream down my face, sobs rake my body. I don't want to leave and the unknown scares me. I have a strange unwanted feeling spiraling from the pit of my stomach. I fear this is goodbye.

  Clara wraps her arms around me, pulling me closer and holding me tight, her tears mix with my own. David joins us, whispering words of comfort to us both. This time his words do nothing to settle my nerves and ease my sadness. I don't know how long we sit like this, hours maybe. None of us have an appetite. We all retire early, all choosing to suffer alone.

  ***

  The sun hangs low in the sky, shining its last rays from heaven, creating a beautiful mesmerizing canvas of reds, oranges and yellows, dazzling colors filtering the sky.

  Clothes cling to my body from the days blistering heat. A cool light breeze sweeps by, lifting the humidity, cooling and relieving my burning skin.

  The sweet smell of cotton candy and the salty, greasy smell of burgers and hot dogs linger from the afternoon's events.

  My hair whips into my face, tickling and caressing my skin, blocking my sight as I come propelling downward to be thrust back into the air with rapid speed. Backwards and forwards I soar through the sky and wave after wave of excitement washes over me. The motion of flying, a feeling of great enthusiasm and eagerness, my cheeks flush with the thrill.

  Abruptly I stop. A woman with raven black hair and violet eyes pulls me out of the swing, holding me tightly against her body. Night has descended quickly, casting shadows all around. Her eyes dart in every direction. Panic is evident on her angelic features.

  My body trembles with fear, my mouth dry. My chest aches. My hands slightly tremble.

  Blood red eyes stare at us, ten pairs, peering through the trees, floating in the air, no bodies visible.

  Everything begins turning, the speed picks up.

  Blood red eyes merge together as one, creating a red line as the world spins before me. The ground starts to move under my feet, shaking with force.

  Dizziness forces me to my knees, wobbling as I fall. Everything spins out of control. I close my eyes to block out the nausea. The spinning remains.

  All of a sudden everything stops. The red eyes are no longer in sight. The beautiful woman pulls me to my feet.

  "Forget," she whispers before the ground opens up and I'm swallowed up by darkness.

  Chapter 5- Belinda

  Kayla looks at me with disbelief and a hint of hatred. Her eyes flash a vivid green. They startle me. I keep my cool and my schooled face in place. Showing emotions makes you look weak. Never again will I feel weak. There is no room for weakness when a battle is brewing. I can feel it deep inside me. The strange feeling that something is just not right.

  My first meeting with my granddaughter did not go as well as I had hoped.

  I hated to be harsh with Kayla, but her life is too important. If she ever falls into the hands of our enemies, let's just say it will not be pretty.

  If I had been harder on Hope, then maybe things would have worked out differently. But I cannot dwell on the past when the future is being threatened.

  I have to learn from my mistakes if I'm to move forward. A big change is coming. I can feel it in my bones, a warning of the darkness lurking in the shadows.

  I was too soft with Hope and look what happened. I am going to have to make sure history does not repeat itself.

  Hope was a beautiful child, loving and caring, not a hurtful bone in her body. She was full of life and adventure.

  Her radiant beauty could light up the darkest of nights. She was like a shining star, always sparkling, lighting the way.

  Until one night Hope came home a shell of her former self. Her bright big blue eyes that always held a twinkle, gone, replaced by dull blue eyes that seemed lifeless. Her face was stormy and hard. Even her hair lost life. Her bright blond hair became dull and dry.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall getting louder with each step.

  "Hope, darling!" I call out while returning to stir the contents of the pan. The footsteps stop suddenly. Turning around, a smile planted on my lips, ready to hear about my daughter's crazy adventure.

  My heart stops. The wooden spoon clanks as it hits the ground. My beautiful girl standing in the doorway is covered in mud. Leaves and twigs are stuck in her hai
r, pointing in all directions. Her hair, a tangled mess, loose strands sticking out in odd angles. Grime and dirt mark her face. Her lilac summer dress torn and ripped, mud covering nearly every inch. A few visible splatters of blood stain the once stunning piece of clothing. Her eyes are dark and dull, void of life. She looks like she has been pulled through a bush backwards.

  Recovering from my shock and pulling myself together, I gather her into my arms pilling kisses on her cheek. Tears leak from my eyes. Questions burn in my brain but I hold them in. Pulling back I look into her eyes, eyes that look straight through me.

  "What happened?" I ask pulling her hand out of mine. She turns around and heads out of the front door.

  I thought she just needed time to gather herself. The hours ticked by as I anxiously waited, but she never returned home. That was the last I ever saw my baby girl. I still do not know what happened that day.

  The memory haunts me. I want nothing more than to bury that day deep inside. Burning questions and a desire for answers bulldoze my mind.

  What happened that day? Why did she leave?

  Tears blur my vision as they begin to trickle down my face.

  Seeing Kayla brought back memories I thought I had long since locked away in the darkest part of my mind. She looks just like Hope, only small difference.

  Wiping my eyes I make my way to the Michaels residence, a large log cabin located at the far side of the woods. As the cabin comes into view my nerves become a tangled mess.

  Let's just hope the Michaels are back.

  Amelia answers after the second knock, her long black hair gleaming in the sun.

  "Good afternoon Mrs. Grace, please come in." She indicates as she opens the door wider, allowing me to pass, before shutting it behind us.

  The Michaels residence is a sight for sore eyes. The walls, ceiling and even the marble floor are all a striking white. The house has a clinical feel to it.

  She leads me down the hall, stopping at the first door. We enter the living room which is sparse and consists of three white couches, the leather shiny and bright.

  A white solid wood coffee table sits in the middle of the room on top of a pearl white rug. The Michael's sure like white, not a hint of color to be seen.

  Amelia blends into the background, with her long white summer dress. Her black hair stands out, bold as brass against the crisp white background.

  "What can I do for you, Mrs. Grace?" Amelia asks while taking a seat herself.

  "Actually I would like to speak to the Guardians, if they have returned."

  "Of course," she rises to her feet.

  "Kids!" she slightly raises her voice as three silhouettes appear in the room glowing a light blue. Monstrous footsteps bang over head, vibrating the floorboards.

  "Not you Rory!" she chuckles as the noise abruptly stops.

  The three Michaels sit down waiting anxiously for the reason of my visit. Amelia leaves the room.

  "As you are probably aware, Kayla will be living among us within the next few days. Now Misty I want you to be nearby when she arrives. Being a friend of yours, she will most likely feel more comfortable being around you when I explain everything to her." The young girl's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

  "We finally get to tell her the truth," she giggles, no longer being able to contain herself.

  "Do you think that is wise? Uprooting her from her home and then thrusting her into our world. She will be terrified, confused," I cut Chris of with a wave of my hand and a deathly stare. I see his jaw twitching.

  He has anger issues.

  "I will decide what is best for my granddaughter, thank you," I shoot at him, putting him in his place.

  "James, I want you to work on her powers when they arise. Teach her how to control them. I also need you and the rest of the stronger guardians and witches to check the enchantment for any gaps or weakness. Chris, I will need you to teach her how to fight, how to protect herself with and without weapons. I also need you to put security crystals around my property. I want to know where she is at all times. Misty I need you to find out where this Zane is. Talk to as many contacts as you can." With their roles put in place, I leave them.

  The near arrival of my granddaughter lifts a weight from my heart; the hurt from losing my daughter is finally being pushed to one side. Still lingering, but hiding in the depth of my heart.

  Chapter 6- Kayla

  "Kayla Grace," a gruff voice calls as David opens the door. An elderly man in a black business suit and crisp white shirt stands on the porch. He stands as still as a statue, his chocolate brown eyes fixed on me. His face is passive and I cannot tell what he is thinking. His eyes hold no emotions. His posture is straight and rigid, as if he is one of the Queen's men standing to attention. The sight of him brings my haunting sadness back to life.

  Secretly I was hoping he would not show. I was praying the hard face woman was not my Grandmother.

  "Miss Grace. My name is Owen and I will be escorting you to your Grandmother's home in Scotland." He holds out his hand, I stare blankly. Slowly he withdraws the gesture. I do not want to shake his hand or pretend that I am happy about being ripped away from my life. I want him to turn around and walk away.

  "We need to be heading on our way. The car is waiting." Owen states. His chocolate eyes look at me with pity. I turn away. I don't need his pity.

  I did not want to move, I didn't speak.

  "Miss Grace, will you please grab your things we have to leave." His voice becomes more urgent. I cannot will my body to move. Telling myself that I have nothing to fear, I will be back to visit them often, I pull my back straight and clear my mind.

  With one last look back at my family I step forward into my new life.

  Parked outside, a limousine awaits us. The driver is hidden behind dark tinted windows. Owen ushers me into the back before climbing in himself. I should be excited but I am not. I have never been in a limousine. I have often wondered what it would feel like to ride around town feeling like a star, but my emotions are numb to happiness, the sadness I feel runs too deep.

  Misty and I have often talked about hiring a limousine for prom, even going as far has putting little money away to make it happen.

  Thinking about Misty brings on more sadness and pain. I never got the chance to say goodbye and her phone goes straight to voice-mail every time I try to call.

  ***

  We have been sitting in the car for over an hour. No one speaks. Owen sits with his back straight staring straight ahead as the roar of loud, thunderous engines fill the car.

  Minutes later we stop and Owen guides me out of the vehicle. We walk towards a private jet that is set apart from the other aircrafts. The limousine we have just exited drives away briskly leaving the smell of exhaust fumes in the air.

  Owen leads the way up the metal steps and into the aircraft. I look up into the sky and see the dark clouds roll in. I wipe the stray tears that have trickled down my face and bow my head to hide the sorrow.

  I wish I did not have to leave. I wish the lady who calls herself my Grandmother would change her mind. I just have to believe that this is not goodbye. With one last look back into the county that I had called home, I enter the aircraft.

  Vibrant white recliner seats, with pine polished tables that shine are lined in a neat row. The seats look comfortable and inviting, making me want to curl up on one and drop off into a deep sleep. Owen takes a window seat, and gestures for me to sit. From the window of the plane the wing engine is semi illuminated the lower half shining around the rim the upper half several shades darker.

  The engine roars to life. I grip the armrest tight and close my eyes. The plane taxis down the runway and my heart hammers in my chest. The strange sensation of ascending brings on nausea.

  Once we are in the air, I lay my seat back wanting nothing more than to sleep, to dream of happier times. Sleep has never been a friend of mine. Sleeping would be easy, to shut out the world and forget recent events. My mind has been cruel,
not allowing me that simple pleasure.

  The flight lasts around seven hours. Seven hours of silence and dozing in and out of sleep. I am agitated, nervous of what life has in store for me. Moving to Scotland from California is going to be a big change, a change I do not think I am ready or prepared for.

  From the airport we drive in another limousine that is patiently waiting for our arrival. The driver hides behind a black screen. We drive down narrow dirt lanes, much different to the roads in America.

  The sky is overcast, black clouds forming together ready to weep their sorrow from above. Gone is the sun and muggy climate that I'm used to. In its place, howling winds rip through the trees which scatter around the open space, lining the dirt road. The road weaves and turns with sharp narrow corners. Vast open spaces lay beyond the trees and striking green fields go as far as my eyes can see a beautiful canvas of the countryside, no sign of civilization anywhere. The countryside rises and falls like giant waves on a gentle ocean.

  We come upon large black iron gates that stand at least ten feet tall and ten feet wide. A white brick Victorian wall runs from either side of the gate. It is the highest wall I have ever seen. It would put the Great Wall of China to shame.

  The gate has interlacing markings all entwined throughout. They look like symbols or ancient writing but seem familiar. After several moments, the gates slowly open, allowing us through. On passing through, my body feels like insects are climbing all over me, making me shudder, itch and scratch. Taking a look at Owen, he seems unaffected, his gaze fixed straight forward.

  We are met with another dirt trail and more trees. We follow the road for fifteen minutes before houses come into view.

  Each house is stunning, all built-in a unique way, the gardens well maintained. All kinds of flowers bloom, casting a rainbow of colors.

  As we drive further the houses grow larger and more spaced out. People mill around the streets carrying on with their daily business.