by Kay, Jenna
She sighed dramatically. “Night shift—the dreaded one night a month filled with cleaning the entire building from top to bottom. Luckily there're four others who have been sentenced along with me.” She started walking to the door, pulling her black hoodie on.
“Hey, Kora?”
“Yeah?” She stopped in front of the door, her green eyes glancing back.
I hesitated before saying, “Be careful out there—you never know who's watchin' ya.”
“Yeah, ma,” she jeered, opening the door. “Don't worry—Kev's gonna be with me the whole time!” Turning away from me, she plowed right into someone entering the store.
“Oomph!”
Brenton, looking startled, almost fell on his butt. I had to stifle a laugh because the sight of a one hundred pound Kora knocking a one hundred and eighty pound Brenton on his tail would've been quite a view.
Kora laughed, turning her gaze back to me.
“Good news, Clare. Now that Brenton's here, you guys can continue our talk about how cute his bum-bum is and how great he'd look in a skin tight suit under corny fake leaves and gym lights!”
Brenton shot her a funny look. “Why Kora! I had no clue you cared.” He leaned back as she leaned closer to him.
“Whatever Clarity loves, I love,” she told him teasingly, waggling her eyebrows.
“Kora. Out.” I pointed toward the door.
She busted out with laughter. “Okay. Bye, lovebirds! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” She walked by Brenton, running to her car.
Brenton looked at me. “Knowing Kev, nothing is exactly what's happenin'!”
“Oh, Brenton,” I argued, “even Kevin's not that big of a prude.”
Brenton tapped his chin reflectively. “Yeah, you're probably right. He is dating Kora.”
“My point exactly.”
He began walking to my counter and that was when I realized he was holding something behind his back.
“So, what ya got behind your back?” I asked inquisitively.
A sly smile caressed his lips. “A little surprise,” he said as he made it to my counter.
“Ooh-kay,” I said, puzzled.
“You know, you are the prettiest cashier in the whole town of Garlandton,” he told me, leaning forward and kissing my lips tenderly.
“Can I ask ya a question?” he said against my lips.
“Anything,” I responded, breathing in his scent, which was a mixture between cinnamon and his cologne.
Taking a step back he brought a single sunflower from behind his back.
“Will you go with me to the Thanksgiving dance?”
“It's wonderful!” I exclaimed excitedly, grabbing the sunflower from his hand. “How did ya know sunflowers were my favorite?”
He grinned sheepishly. “I remembered from when we were little, how you always talked about them reminding you of the sun. Which works out great for me since my mom has a patch of them behind our house.”
I held the flower up to my face and looked up at him angelically, batting my lashes. “I absolutely love it.”
A pleased expression crossed over his face.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” I asked, still admiring my sunflower.
A blush traveled slowly across his face. “Will you go to the dance with me?”
I smiled. “Oh, yeah. Of course I'll go with ya.” I leaned into him and gave him a hasty kiss on the lips. He leaned forward some more.
“You are such a tease,” he whispered seductively.
I got right in his face. “That's what ya love about me.” I then grabbed him around his neck and kissed him firmly on his lips.
The bell sounded at the door, signaling a customer. We pulled apart and I giggled.
“I gotta go. Love you.” He gave my hand a squeeze.
I squeezed it back. “Love ya more.”
* * * *
That night I drove home for the first time in ages not on the edge of insanity. With the dance just a week away and having a for sure date to it, I was finally able to look forward to something that was not of the supernatural world. I was getting use to Sam appearing whenever he wanted, offering support that came along with the knowledge he fed into my brain. With his support came positivity, helping me not to dwell on the negative side of becoming a Seer, but on all the good that could come out of it.
Also on the positive side, the demons had not shown their ugly mugs since that night in the parking lot, which also aided in me being positively charged.
I had told him about the angel at school, the beautiful girl in the white dress. In response he had said that she was Brenton's angel, and her name was Sarah. Even knowing about the existence of celestial beings, I had been shocked to learn not that she was an angel, but that she was Brenton's angel. Of course he had calmed me down and told me to just get use to seeing more and more angels—that's just how it was being a Seer. In simpler terms, he had told me to just deal with it.
When I got home, I found a vase to put my beautiful sunflower in, placing it on the kitchen table. Finding my hidden bottle of scotch, I decided that even though it was chilly outside I was going to hangout on my rooftop. I grabbed my blue and yellow quilt and climbed out of my window onto the roof, careful not to drop the bottle of amber fluid.
I was amazed to see how clear the sky looked. The moon was full and the stars decorated the sky with ornate beauty. Covering up with my quilt I took a long sip of scotch, letting the liquid warm my insides. I closed my eyes and breathed in the crisp clean air. My ears perked up when I heard the flutter of wings somewhere above me, a hint of lavender invading the air sharply.
Opening my eyes I wasn't surprised to see Sam sitting next to me, his hands folded in his lap. A huge smile harbored his handsome face as he admired the stars.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” he murmured softly. “Looking up at God's creations is such a blessing in itself.”
I gazed at him, the moon lighting up his pale face. I still could not believe he was my guardian angel. That night he was wearing a black shirt and black pants, causing him to blend into the night. He turned to me, his aqua blue eyes shining brightly.
“I've always like the moon,” I confessed, once again entranced by his totally raw resplendence.
He grinned. “I know. When you were little you'd always tell your parents you wanted to fly to the moon.”
I smiled as memories of my childhood flooded back. “Yeah, and they would tell me that if I worked really hard that I just might make it there.” Tears gathered in my eyes.
“Whatever my dreams were, no matter how stupid or immature, they always talked them up, fueling my imagination—like I could accomplish anything.”
He looked over at me dolefully.
“They loved you very much.”
My gaze turned back to the stars. “Tell me, Sam—why now?”
“What?”
“Why show up now?” I asked, looking at him. “Why didn't ya show up that night my parents died?”
He turned his gaze back to the sky.
“I was there with you, but it was not time for you to meet me.” He gently held my hand, his warmth calming me more than the scotch. “It wasn't time for you to learn the truth, to learn what you were created to be.”
“I think it would've been the perfect night,” I whispered, tears spilling over my eyelids and coating my cheeks. “Because if I'd found out everything that night, maybe I'd be a little more prepared today.”
He gently took me in his arms and embraced me. I wanted to pull away—I wanted to be angry with him with everything I held inside me! Instead, I put my arms around him, his body warming me more than my quilt, his touch calming me more than the liquor I held in my hand. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest, his lavender smell wavering all around me. All of my senses gave into him, and I felt myself drifting off to sleep.
“Don't fear the road ahead, because you won't go it alone,” he said as I headed toward la-la land. Then he added in a whis
per, “I am where you are.”
* * * *
I was standing in the middle of a dark alley, the orange glow of a nearby light casting an eerie glare on the pavement beneath my feet. An unpleasant smell loomed in the air, causing me to gag.
Where am I? I thought to myself, my eyes taking in my surroundings.
It was nighttime, the moon and stars absent from the sky. Thick rain clouds replaced them, a rumble in the distance threatening that a storm was coming. On the ground trash was strewn everywhere, the alley's one and only dumpster busting at its seams with crap and crud. I felt cold and scared, but most of all confused, because I did not consciously know how I had gotten to this dark, disgusting place.
Being alone in a smelly littered-up alley was definitely not on the top of my list of fun things to do.
A whimper echoed in the alley, the sound of a girl crying bounced of the brick walls of the buildings and pierced my ears. I took a step forward then stopped, rubbing at the goosebumps covering my bare arms. The crying was coming from the very back of the alley, possibly from behind the overloaded dumpster.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice cracking, unsure of what to expect. “Is anyone there?”
The whimpering continued, a pitiful sad sound. Against my better judgment I began walking forward. My legs felt like Jell-O as I stepped over piles of rotted food and trash, the horrible smell continuing to burn my nostrils. Rats were crawling all over the place, squeaking as they made their way through the rank debris. My heart was thudding in my ears and my brain was screaming at me to turn back, but instead of listening I trudged ahead.
“Hello?” I called again.
The weak voice of a girl called back.
“Please help me.”
“I'm coming!” I hollered, adrenaline rushing through my veins, causing me to pick up the pace. When I got to the dumpster, I peered to the side of it and gasped.
Laying in a heap on the dirty ground was Daria. She looked at me through wide eyes, her black mascara streaking down her tear-stained face. Her red lipstick was smudged over her lips; the red mini-dress she was wearing harbored a huge rip on one side.
What was so horrifying was the cuts and bruises all over her bare flesh, like she had been in one hellacious fight. Up and down her arms and legs were scrapes, cuts, and bruises, some looking very recent, some healing. From what I could see, there wasn't a part of her body not riddled with pain.
“Daria,” I spoke calmly, bending to one knee, “what's happened to you?”
She looked up at me with terrified eyes.
“He's coming,” she told me, her bottom lip trembling. “He's gonna kill me.”
Taken back by her admission I asked, “Who, Daria? Who's gonna kill you?”
Taking me by surprised she sat up, grabbing me roughly by the shoulders. She was breathing in ragged breaths and her hands were as cold as ice. Our faces close, our noses almost touching, I could see her eyes were bloodshot and dilated, the whites of her eyes almost non-existent.
“You know who,” she whispered, then, as if all her energy exited her body, she slumped to the ground unconscious.
I reached down to feel her pulse—it was very weak.
“Daria, wake up,” I said, gently patting her face.
A cold wind suddenly blew from behind and a chill flew straight through my heart. Without looking back I knew someone was behind me—I could feel eyes staring at my back.
“What are ya doin' here, princess?”
Standing to my feet, turning around, I faced who was standing behind me.
“Nick,” I said.
Only he looked a little different. His skin was pale, he was dressed in black clothes, and his eyes were pitch-black. He smiled not a friendly smile but a malicious, hate-filled smile. In his right hand he held some sort of weapon—I could not tell because of the dark.
“Answer my question, princess.”
Instead of answering I asked, “What are you doin', Nick?”
He answered my question with an evil bark of a laugh. I'd never heard a laugh sound so evil and diabolical. Not since I'd met Lukus and the other angels of darkness.
When he was done laughing, he looked at me, tilting his head to the side.
“I'm only doin' my job,” he told me, his voice sounding detached from his body. Then taking whatever weapon he held in his hand, he lifted it up and swung it directly at my head.
Chapter Fifteen
I sat straight up in bed, my breathing coming out in hefty pants. The palms of my hands were burning and my pajamas were doused with perspiration. Frantically, I touched my head with my hands just to verify that it was still attached to my body. Finding out I had not lost my head, I let out an anxious laugh.
“It was just a dream,” I stated out loud, falling back onto my pillows.
Sunlight bled through my curtains, drenching my already yellow room with its golden radiance. A beautiful start to a Saturday that would be filled with trying on one expensive dress after another, followed by some cheesy movie and stale popcorn. I really didn't know how I was going to get through the day—all the plans were too normal for a girl like me, and anyway, how could I concentrate on anything other than my hands burning like they had been sandwiched in a ultra-heated flat iron?!
“You have to warn Daria.”
I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound of Sam's voice. My heart felt like it was jumping up and down in between my chest and throat.
“Sam, you've got to stop showin' up and scaring the crud outta me!” I remarked after I was able to calm my out of control pumping heart.
His face lingered in serious mode. “You've got to warn Daria.”
“Why?” I questioned. “It was just a dumb dream!”
“You should always take your dreams seriously, whatever they may be. A Seer’s dream can sometimes be a life or death scenario for a human.” He narrowed his eyes. “Daria may be in danger—she needs your help, whether she realizes it or not.”
I crossed my arms at my chest, my bottom lip jutting out stubbornly. I knew that being a Seer meant that I had to do a service for all of mankind, but Daria? Could she even be considered part of the human race? If she was, where was her conscience? Somewhere up her narrow behind?
“Fine,” I told him through gritted teeth. “Even though I'd rather stick hot pokers in my eyes than go to Daria's house and talk.” I frowned, shuddering. The thought of having a friendly conversation with the school’s biggest snob was extremely nauseating.
“I know she's a bit of a pain—”
“That's a huge understatement,” I interposed, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.
“But,” he continued, “as a Seer you must learn to work with all sorts of people, even the ones who are mean spirited.”
I sighed melodramatically. “She's not just mean—she's atrocious.” And also a slutty, hateful witch.
He cleared his throat and shook his head, a look of disapproval concealing his usually cheerful face.
“What?” I asked him, annoyed.
“Your thoughts are not very...pleasant.”
“Sorry, sorry. How 'bout I just call her an egotistical fudge-nut who reminds me of a female dog?”
For the first time ever, he rolled his eyes at me. It struck me as comical because it was such a human trait.
“Clarity,” he began, his tone trying overly hard to stay in the patience department, “just go and help her.” Then, as usual, he vanished in the middle of yet another of our myopic chats.
“Really?” I stated, raising my hands in the air. “You're just gonna disappear and let me handle this by myself?”
I paused, waiting to see if he would come back and talk some more about the Daria problem. Of course I waited for nothing.
“Fine!” I called aloud, throwing my blankets on the floor.
“I'll go visit the fudge-nut female dog by myself.”
* * * *
Daria lived on the “rich” side of town, away from all the trailers
and worn-down shacks on my side of town. Not that my house was junky or anything, but compared to her mansion, my house could easily be described as old.
My parents had bought the farm house on one hundred acres and renovated the entire home from the roof to the dirt basement. They also had built the wrap around porch I loved so much.
Daria's house, I mean mansion, was built two years ago, when the elite members of Garlandton decided it was time to add a country club to our quaint town. It had all the accommodations any rich kid could ask for: swimming pools, a golf course, state-of-the-art gymnasium with two indoor pools and weight room. Five tennis courts were placed behind a five star restaurant that served anything from hot dogs to lobsters.
Pulling through the open gates of the posh community, I found Daria's BMW parked in her driveway, the three-story Phipps manor sitting in front of it. I parked my rust-covered Honda at the end of the drive. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I sat there pondering on what to say. I could not tell her I'd had a dream about her looking beat-up and saying that Nick was going to kill her—at least that's what I had gotten out of it, until Nick decided to take my head off by some heavy object. Yeah, I'm sure she'd believe every word of that, especially since we're so close. Not.
Taking a deep breath, I got out of my car and willed myself to walk up her driveway. When I got to heavy mahogany door I knocked twice. My nerves were a bundle of jitters, and I almost turned away to leave but Daria opened the door before I could wuss out.
“Oh hell,” she scoffed, crossing her arms at her chest and leaning against the door jam. “What do ya want, loser?”
Forcing myself to ignore her rude greeting I smiled and said, “Hey Daria.”
My eyes searched her face for any signs of trauma. I found nothing but dark circles under her eyes. I also noticed she was wearing a fuzzy pink scarf, which hit me as strange because it was a sunny warm day.
“Need more Clearasil?” she asked sardonically, once again poking fun at my unique name.
