Shadow Eyes
by
Dusty Crabtree
An Imprint of
Musa Publishing
Shadow Eyes
By Dusty Crabtree
Copyright © Dusty Crabtree, 2012
Smashwords edition
…
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
…
This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
Musa Publishing
633 Edgewood
Ave
Lancaster, OH 43130
…
Published by Musa Publishing, February 2012
…
This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-61937-876-6
Published in the United States of America
Editor: Meredith MacLeod
Cover Design: Kelly Shorten
Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna
Prologue
“Why do you insist on fighting a war you can’t win?” Gregory stated firmly but calmly. Blinding, beautiful light radiated from his skin and clothes, flooding down to his ancient enemy Lucas but ricocheting off some invisible barrier surrounding him.
Lucas was hovering a few hundred feet out from Gregory at a slightly lower elevation. A chasm of darkness separated them, but Gregory’s voice carried and echoed as if they were face-to-face. “You’ve already done enough damage, and it’s not going to make a difference for your fate. Give it up.” He waited for Lucas to reply, expecting a mocking laugh or an outburst of anger and hatred. But silence pierced his ears.
Lucas’s robes flowed gracefully yet powerfully about him, half covering his downcast face for a moment. His robes were jet black with an alluring richness and gleam and were as paper-thin as a silk sheet. Their mystic, fluttering motion seemed to consume space itself like a magnetic kaleidoscope as they rose and fell around his dark form…which was now trembling with resentment, scorn and rage.
Suddenly, the trembling stopped. His head rose slowly as his robes fell to the ground, halting their deranged, mysterious dance as if the wind circulating through them was abruptly switched off. A confident sneer gradually distorted his dark face but looked somewhat contrived as though he were forcing himself to believe it.
“I may not win the war,” he declared through clenched teeth. “But this battle belongs to me.” He leapt from the cold, wavering darkness on which he was perched and plummeted down into the shadows.
Chapter 1
I stood motionless in the nearly empty hallway, staring at the silver doorknob in front of me as if it were my enemy. On the outside, I probably looked like a sullen child who hated junior English. Inside, I was desperately trying to find the nerve to extend my arm, grab the metal object, and twist.
I managed to execute the first two steps without dying and was about to complete the third, but a dark fluttering caught my eye to my left. The murky fog wavered and sloshed around the corner after a girl in a pink top and exceptionally short black skirt.
“Not helping,” I muttered under my breath. Frustrated, I returned my attention to my hand whose knuckles had turned white from gripping too firmly. I sighed and gave the doorknob a twist.
“Hey, birthday girl!” Lexi yelled as the bell blared through the speakers. Her enthusiastic greeting seemed to merge with the high-pitched tone and reverberated around the entire room.
I ducked my head, hurried past the front of the classroom, and hoped nobody heard her. On my way, I flashed her a big-eyed, stern look with an implied “Shh!”
I’d hated my birthday since I was fourteen, three years ago. I certainly didn’t need any added attention or stares to make me more on edge or paranoid. Luckily, no one noticed.
I sidestepped down the aisle to my desk with a heavy frown that failed to discourage her and settled into my seat. After a few moments of blatant avoidance on my part just for good measure, I reluctantly turned to face her. I was met with a wide-eyed, expectant grin. Her energetic spirit refused to be quenched.
“So are you ready for the big party tomorrow? Nicole’s going all out, you know.”
Despite my anxious mood, I laughed at my friend’s unwarranted excitement. The so-called “big party” for my birthday tomorrow night would only consist of the three of us. “Um…sure.” Truthfully, I was dreading it.
She looked me up and down skeptically and sighed. “Iris, please tell me you’ll be dressing up. At least a little bit.” My long-sleeved graphic tee, jeans, and flats were obviously not up to her cute, girly standards.
I laughed. “Not everyone feels the need to dress like a doll, Lexi.”
Her face scrunched in mock indignation. Nevertheless, any excuse she could possibly produce was no match for her unmistakably girly appearance. A white satin ribbon and elastic band secured her thick, curly, dark-red hair into a neat ponytail, and the sheer, flowery blouse she wore over a dainty camisole fell gracefully over her curves. She really was pretty in her girlish, soft-spoken way, even though she always complained about being slightly heavier than Nicole and me.
She gave up the act after a few seconds. “Okay, fine. Maybe I do dress like a doll. I guess there are worse things you could accuse me of.”
Chuckling softly, I began to rummage through my bag, attempting to push aside my personal anxiety. I just had to try not to focus on the cause. Hopefully, there’d be no more birthday talk.
I retrieved my English folder and a pencil and scanned the room. Our teacher was nowhere to be found, and the bell had rung two minutes ago. After a few seconds of confused searching, I remembered Mrs. Thomas telling us she was moving because of her husband’s sudden promotion. Our new English teacher was supposed to start today. Evidently, she was having a difficult time finding the classroom.
I started to ask Lexi if she knew anything about our new teacher or her whereabouts but was cut short when a tall, blond, very attractive man in his thirties strolled in. He was wearing a gray, three-piece suit complete with tie. Compared to the majority of teachers who regularly wore jeans, athletic pants, and anything that barely passed as non-sleepwear, he stood out like a sleek Mercedes in the middle of a junkyard. Carrying a briefcase in one hand and a manila folder in the other, he walked with a confident, stately air and a serene look on his face, somehow radiating kindness, power and mystery all from the same stunningly handsome form.
I didn’t even have to hear him speak; he would have no trouble controlling our class. His demeanor simply commanded respect. He had silenced the room with his entrance. Plus, despite the obvious age difference, the girls were already drooling over him, their mouths gaping open in disbelief at the luck of getting such an insanely gorgeous teacher. I agreed with them silently but had enough sense not to hope or dream for anything more than an exquisite view during first hour.
I was drawn to him, however, for another reason I couldn’t quite place. Something seemed oddly familiar and pleasantly comfortable about him, like I’d known him for quite some time already. He had one of those faces that was inviting and friendly, and I unintentionally began to stare. Whether to try to figure out if I truly did know him, or whether I was getting lost in his deep blue eyes and flawless, glowing skin, I’m not exactly sure.
Apparently I stared a little too long because as he surveyed the room, his eyes caught mine and his mouth formed into a warm, cheerful smile. My cheeks flushed, and I dropped my eyes to my desk.
Returning his attention to the entire class, he finally spoke. “Good morning, everyone. My name is Mr. Delaney, and I’ll be taking over for the rest of the year for Mrs. Thomas.” He moved about the room, looking each student in the eyes with interest and concern as he passed as though he honestly cared to know more about them and wanted to make each one feel welcome.
“I’m sure we’ll have a fine year together and learn a lot from each other. Everyone has something special to offer the world, and I’m excited to have the opportunity to discover what that is in each of you.”
He stopped at my desk and gazed right at me as if to imply that whatever special gift I had lurking inside me was extra-valuable. He was right about one thing. I did have a special gift. Was it valuable? Not to me. In fact, I’d do anything to get rid of it.
He meandered back to the front of the classroom, and as he did, his intriguing scent wafted past me, enveloping my head in a pleasant cloud. A sunny, ultra fresh scent so delightful and calming I wished I could bottle it up and use it as air freshener.
At the podium again he continued to address the class. “Mrs. Thomas already had some lesson plans in place for when I arrived, so we’re just going to continue where she left off. I believe you were about to start reading The Scarlet Letter?” Several students nodded, and Mr. Delaney reviewed some notes in his manila folder. “Okay, then let’s go ahead and turn to page seven in your books, shall we?”
Normally I would have expected whines or even outright complaints at the prospect of having to read a tediously long, crusty old novel by Nathaniel Hawthorne. But with Mr. Delaney’s charm and contagious optimism, the only sound in the classroom was the eager flipping of pages.
Nevertheless, while he glanced at what appeared to be a seating chart on the podium and some more notes, I silently hoped Mrs. Thomas hadn’t left any comments about who she normally called on to read. Just because I was the sort of student that made straight A’s and loved to read on my own didn’t mean I enjoyed reading out loud in front of an entire class. Using sarcasm or occasionally tossing out witty remarks I could handle, but reading out loud in class was different. Add to that being the first one to break the silence in our suddenly altered classroom environment, and there was no way I wanted to read.
“Lexi Hamilton, would you begin reading for us on page seven?”
Lexi and I gave each other a quick glance, one of anxiety from her and pity from me. Bravely, she took a deep breath and began.
After Lexi had been reading for a few minutes, Mr. Delaney went to his desk to mark absences. The class somehow started to feel normal again, so I tried to focus on what Lexi was reading. After all, we would probably be tested on it. But I kept finding myself getting carried away with adding my own private imagery. Lexi had reached the part where Hester was on the platform for public humiliation while everyone in the town stood around harassing her for committing adultery. I couldn’t help but imagine the crowd with their hateful faces, viciously tormenting her, unaware of the heavy, black storm whirling around and above them. I envisioned a mob of angry people with hostility in their hearts, but I also pictured the stimulus for such behavior that others wouldn’t see—a swarm of cruel shadows surrounding the unsuspecting and invading the susceptible.
I could also picture Hester standing up there, appearing strong and unaffected by their torturous slander. There must have been more going on underneath her brave facade. How could she not be filled with shame and fear having her secret exposed so scandalously? I could even picture the black shadow that was starting to form over her head, fluttering about her, whispering in her ear. But this was not a shadow of hatred and cruelty. This shadow was much more subtle and shrewd. Its intentions were to tear her down from the inside out. My imagination was so vivid that I could almost feel the cold darkness seep through my own skin and permeate my innermost thoughts.
I got so lost in my mental horror movie that time seemed to speed up, dash around my preoccupied mind, and pass me. I hadn’t even noticed Lexi had stopped reading when the bell sounded, and I was abruptly brought back to reality as if someone had accidentally switched off the movie reel and left me staring at a blank screen. I was left just as empty.
I’d been cursed with seeing the shadows and bright figures ever since my fourteenth birthday. I never liked to talk about what happened that fateful day to bring about the sudden visual awareness, but since then, I’d been forced to view the world as a much darker place than anyone else could possibly imagine. Although the figures of light seemed to be positive influences, there were far too few of them. The vast majority of apparitions I saw were ruthless shadows with a destructive agenda.
* * * *
I spotted Nicole and Lexi already sitting at our usual table off to the side of the lunchroom, separated from most of the crowd, when I arrived. I generally picked a seat facing the wall so I was at least partially shielded from the unpleasant view of an entire room full of hormonal, sugar-crazed teens and the shadows that always seemed to accompany them. I couldn’t always avoid them, however, when I was stranded in the middle of a lunch line.
The guy in front of me was surrounded by a stormy mass that extended out behind him a good two feet. I tried to act cool and hang back as much as I could without looking like I had an imaginary friend, but its close proximity made my skin crawl.
The boy turned around slightly, and I caught a glimpse of his bloodshot eyes and dopey grin. He must have taken the earlier lunch for his off-campus “appetizer” and now had the munchies. I didn’t approve, but there was no way I was going to say anything to anybody. My paranoia told me the shadow would somehow know it was me and seek revenge.
As if to confirm my fears, the stormy mass over the boy began to fluctuate and move in a deliberate pivoting motion until its obscure face came into focus. It stared straight at me with a poisonous smile, obviously amused by my impotence. In defeat I cringed and shrank back in the line, bumping into the girl behind me. I mumbled an apology and pretended to search my backpack for something until the shadow lost interest and faced forward again.
I had barely sat down beside Lexi and across from Nicole with my dry, grilled chicken sandwich and wilted French fries, when Nicole started bubbling with excitement and questions. “So, Iris, Lexi told me about your hot new English teacher, Mr. Delaney! What’s he like? Is he really that good-looking?” Her excitement promptly changed to fake pouting as she slumped her shoulders and frowned at us. “I’m so jealous I don’t have English class with you!”
“Oh, please,” I said, pausing to shoot an inconspicuous glance at the stoner and his shadow who were now safely across the lunchroom. “Yes, he’s cute, but seriously, he’s like at least thirty-three or thirty-four. Hardly anything to get excited about.” I picked at my French fries, hoping ketchup would mask the soggy texture. It didn’t.
“You’re no fun.” She turned to Lexi to continue her childish gossip. Their giggling and whispers were barely audible over the loud roar of the lunchroom.
I easily zoned them out with my own thoughts on Mr. Delaney, remembering how he’d gazed at me as if he knew me and was trying to imply something about how special I was. Ultimately, I convinced myself I must have seen him somewhere around the city and that him stopping by my desk during his warm-and-fuzzy speech was just a coincidence.
Once Nicole and Lexi had exhausted all possible topics of discussion about Mr. Delaney, Nicole pushed her sad-looking, half-eaten burrito to the side. It was replaced with a long list written on notebook paper in purple ink. “So, about your party tomorrow…what’s your favorite kind of pizza?” She looked up at me from her list expectantly, purple Sharpie in hand.
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Nicole, honestly, just plan it how you want. I’m not that picky.” I tried to appear convincing, but Nicole and Lexi gave each other a not-so-discreet glance and laughed simultaneously. “Hey, just because I’m kind of a perfectionist and a tad overly organized—”
“Kind of?” Nicole asked.
“A tad?” Lexi added, laughing.
“Okay, fine. Just because I’m a perfectionist and overly organized doesn’t mean I can’t handle someone else planning a party for me.” In truth, I normally wanted to have control in planning things that pertained to me. However, when it came to the celebration of a day I really didn’t care to think about, I was all for avoiding it altogether.
Nicole sighed deeply as she folded up her list. “Fine,” she declared, but it sounded more like a discouraged whine than consent.
* * * *
Advanced Earth Science. As I read the title of my last class printed neatly on the binder I yanked out of my locker, I had to smirk. It still made me laugh to see the word Advanced apply to such a blow-off class.
I took my seat behind Nicole who glanced at me with feigned disgust before turning her head and lifting her chin slightly.
“Melodramatic much?” I said, laughing at her display. But when her grimace remained stuck to her face, I tried a different tactic. “I trust you, and I know the party will be great.”
That was all she needed. She turned to me, grinning smugly. “Well, since I guess I’m completely in charge, it will definitely be more than great. It will be awesome.”
I smiled as a show of faith and Nicole reached for her compact mirror to check her face and hair. She always cared way too much what people thought about her. She had sleek, almost black hair, cut in a trendy bob, naturally tanned skin, and a minor case of acne that she always thought was the end of the world. She was wearing her usual designer apparel: a stylish top, Hollister jeans, bronze wrap-around sandals, and an assortment of metallic bracelets, which jingled as she applied more unneeded powder. She wasn’t girly and dainty like Lexi, but she definitely made a fashion statement.
Waiting for our teacher to arrive, I started twirling my pencil and caught Claire to my left flirting with sleaze-ball Mike in front of her. I wasn’t sure if they had made it official yet, but by the way they were talking and touching each other inappropriately, I figured it wouldn’t be much longer.
I then discreetly moved my eyes to the seat behind Claire where Josh Sanders sat, who was already eyeing me with one of his shy, flirtatious smiles. Electricity radiated from my chest out to my fingertips, and I dropped my pencil on the ground. He bent down to pick it up but kept his eyes on me the whole time before finally extending his hand toward mine. I took the pencil from his open palm. As I did, our eyes locked and our hands touched briefly. Smiling, we held each other’s gaze for a few seconds until he bashfully looked away. His bright blue eyes, perfect smile, short, perfectly-groomed hair, and toned muscles always made him look like a sexy, dark-haired Ken doll. Too bad he wasn’t as confident.
“Iris Kohl,” he said thoughtfully, as if he enjoyed the feel of my name sliding off his tongue. “A little birdie told me it was your birthday tomorrow. Is that true?”
I jerked my head back to Nicole with a severe glare, but she just shrugged and smiled at me.
I turned back to Josh, blushing. “Uh…yeah…it is. Another year older…”
“Well, I have something for you.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small dark purple object. “It’s really nothing,” he stated nervously. “I just saw it and thought of you because the violet color is really pretty like your eyes, and I knew you liked to read, so…”
He handed the purple item to me and I recognized the familiar shape. A bookmark. As simple as it was, his thoughtful gift felt like a priceless gem in my hand. Books represented a comforting retreat to me, a way to escape my chaotic, shadowy life. Even though he didn’t know the real me, the fact that he knew me well enough to get me such a meaningful gift, along with his kindness and the compliment about my eyes, sent me swimming in clouds of ecstasy.
“Thank you,” I said with more heartfelt emotion than I had planned. “Honestly. I love it. I’m glad you thought of me.”
Claire rolled her eyes when she saw the bookmark and returned to Mike. As she resumed her overtly flirtatious act, I overheard her talking about how her parents would be out of town that weekend. I attempted not to stare at the shadows hovering over them, but I couldn’t help but notice that the murky form over Mike appeared much darker and sinister than Claire’s, indicating things I really didn’t want to think about. I wondered if Claire had known what Mike was scheming if she still would have invited him to her house.
I thought about saying something to her, but the thought was fleeting. What could I say that wouldn’t sound crazy? I tried to convince myself she didn’t deserve a warning anyway since she was always such a witch to everybody. I almost succeeded, but it was more than her behavior holding me back. It was my fears.
“Okay, class!” announced an energetic Mr. Keller as he finally sauntered in four minutes after the bell. “Let’s turn in our books to page two hundred and seventy-five. Today, we’re going to be learning about our good old friend, granite.”
The entire class rolled their eyes and laughed at Mr. Keller’s quirky humor. For a reason we could never quite fathom, all rocks and minerals were our “good old friends.”
“Oh, and don’t forget I need your permission slips for the field trip to go spelunking at Bluespring Caverns as soon as possible.”
“Hey, Mr. Keller, what’s spelunking mean, again?” a small-framed boy across the room asked, half raising his hand.
“Amateur,” Mike muttered loudly enough for us to hear, and a few kids snickered.
“Well,” said Mr. Keller cheerfully, turning to face Mike, “since you know all about spelunking, Mike, why don’t you tell us what it is?”
Mike got a blank look on his face, but swiftly tried to hide it, shifting in his seat. “Um…doesn’t it have something to do with a cave?”
“Yes, Captain Obvious! Well done!” Mr. Keller clapped enthusiastically as the class laughed. I loved Mr. Keller. “For those who want a more specific definition, though, it’s the practice of exploring caves. Now back to our good old friend, granite!”
Mr. Keller spun around to the board to write the word granite in giant letters and I glanced back at Josh. His chin was resting on his fist, and the corners of his lips turned up into a shy but sexy smile. I dared to hope he was looking forward to the field trip as much as I was.
My brain and three pages of notes were filled with useless information about granite before the bell finally rang. Nicole and I hung outside the door for a few minutes, chatting about anything and everything I could drag out of her as I glanced anxiously at the school’s exit. Once there was nothing more to say and she deserted me, I meandered slowly to my locker. Even though I didn’t need anything, I rummaged through it as if I were searching for a tool on a job that paid by the hour. The longer I waited, the less people and, therefore, shadows would be waiting for me when I stepped into the parking lot.
I hated crowds and tried to avoid them as much as possible. Three years of dealing with the visions had taught me how to cope in various ways, but I’d never gotten used to walking among herds of people that were ignorant of the truth I was forced to see. It was like being the only one wearing ultraviolet glasses that unveiled every germ and bacteria around me and having to constantly witness unsuspecting people touching things and getting into things that are disgusting and potentially dangerous. Some people would feel lucky to have such insight. Me? I felt trapped, helpless, and exposed.
Luckily, since it was Friday, everyone wanted to get away from school as quickly as possible. By the time I stepped outside, the parking lot was basically empty. Only a few cars belonging to football players remained.
I began to trek the long distance to my car, which was at the end of the lot due to my near tardiness every day for the same reason I always left late. However, even though the lot was void of people, a couple of dark figures loomed over and around a yellow Camaro to my right. I recognized it as Marcus Beaman’s new car. He was a well-known football player and had been bragging about the birthday present for three months since he got it in June.
Why were these shadows out in the parking lot without any humans around? The bizarreness of it made me pause, and my mind began fabricating all possible explanations—none of which I could do anything about. Lost in my thoughts, I must have peered at them with critical eyes just a tad longer than was safe. One of them stopped, inclined its head to glare at me, and flashed an evil grin. I shuddered, closing my eyes tightly in an attempt to erase the image and pretend the scene away as I cowered toward my car like a timid little girl.
I threw open the driver’s side door, jumped in, tossing my backpack on the passenger seat, buckled my seatbelt and locked the doors. As if that would help. I briefly checked my rearview mirror for cars and then twisted around to scan for any shadows I might have missed, other than the two that continued to loiter around Marcus’s car. Somehow I couldn’t see the dark or bright figures in mirrors. Oftentimes that was a blessing. For the moment, the coast was clear.
Once I got on the congested expressway during the after-school rush hour, though, I was confronted with the all too familiar scene of shadowy figures hovering over cars, darting through them, and sitting in passenger seats.
I gripped my steering wheel and focused on the road ahead, but something caught my eye. The SUV to my right was cut-off by a speedy Miata that swerved in front of him to turn right at the next street. When the man in the SUV had to slam on his brakes, a spiteful, pompous-looking black silhouette in the passenger seat leaned over and whispered into the man’s ear. Immediately, the hostile man honked his horn several times and flipped the Miata the finger.
I sighed. Sometimes the shadows’ influences had such minor ramifications. Others…let’s just say that wasn’t the worst thing I’d seen a person do when prompted by a shadow.
Chapter 2
My seventeenth birthday commenced in the same manner as most every other day the last few years—with me gasping for air as my rigid body jerked upright and my hands frantically searched for my throat and chest. They found nothing but my thick, damp hair, which was glued to my drenched skin with sweat.
When I finally felt the air entering my lungs and realized I was alive and alone in my bedroom, I started to breathe in a little more deeply and a little more slowly to calm myself down. I closed my eyes tightly, annoyed and rather shaken, wondering if that dream was ever going to give up and let me continue my already deranged life in peace. Then I was even more annoyed at the impossible irony of that notion. My deranged life could never be peaceful.
I threw back the covers in a sulky huff and pivoted to drop my legs from my bed in order to feel the texture of the carpet on my feet. The understanding that I was in my own room, my sanctuary and safe room, always managed to give me a sense of reality and normalcy away from the morbid fantasy of my dreams. It was also the only place I felt safe from all the eerie, dark shadows and strange figures of light lurking outside.
With the aid of the brightening sun peering through my window and the penguin night-light my dad had given me before the divorce and long before I’d become a shadow-seeing freak show, I gazed around my room for a moment. For some reason, I needed to survey my well-organized possessions before forcing myself out of bed. I took deep breaths as if I were trying to soak up the order and familiarity. Today of all days I would need an extra dose of “normal” to get me through what hadn’t been a normal day for three years…my birthday.
I glanced at the clock. It was eight. I was surprised I hadn’t heard my older sister, Hanna, in the shower. Her hour-long primping ritual for her university library job normally began by seven forty-five.
Since my dream had successfully left me wide awake at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning, I figured I’d peek in her bedroom to see if she was alive. I found her stretched out on her stomach, fully dressed with her dark hair wet and sprawled out everywhere, soaking her clothes and pillow. The smell of shampoo lingered in the air.
“Hanna,” I yelled, trying not to laugh.
She jerked up her head at the sound of my voice, and then moaned a cry of protest. Eyes squinting, she slowly lowered her head.
“Hanna, did you take a shower in the middle of the night again, thinking you were running late?” I smiled to myself. This never got old.
“Uh, huh.” She was already trying to go back to sleep. She had this strange habit of waking up around four or five in the morning in a panic. Certain she was running late for school, she’d jump in the shower, go back to her room, look at the clock, and then realize she was an idiot.
“All right, go back to bed. I’ll wake you up when I’m out.” I shut her door, smiling as I headed toward the bathroom. Hanna was twenty years old, but sometimes her playful immaturity made her seem less mature than me. Nonetheless, her knack for unintentionally making me laugh and her positive attitude and outlook on life were definite highlights in my everyday routine.
The way we acted together, no one would have guessed it hadn’t always been that pleasant between us. When our dad left, she had been thirteen and had already been starting to go through that awkward middle school phase we all endure, but I had been too young to know what that was and that I should cut her some slack. As though puberty wasn’t bad enough, having to watch our parents go through a messy divorce and then hardly ever seeing our dad anymore had made her angry and hateful. She had mutated from a regular, annoying pubescent teen into a walking, angry hormone with devil horns.
It wasn’t until my fourteenth birthday that she’d changed and actually started caring about me. Even though we tried to avoid the uncomfortable topic associated with that day, I felt I could be myself around her since she was one of the few people I still talked to who knew about the devastating event…well, I couldn’t be completely myself, of course. Nobody but me knew about my curse of seeing the shadows, which, for whatever reason, started that same day. Exactly three years ago.
Once out of the shower, I sat at our kitchen table, slowly eating a bowl of cereal in a thoughtful, melancholic daze. My birthday and the unmentionable anniversary that came with it always forced me to think about the past. It was only three years ago that we left Cloverdale and moved to Lafayette, which was about twenty times bigger. Much easier to get lost in the shuffle here. As far as I was concerned, the less attention on me the better.
My mother wandered out of her bedroom into the kitchen, dressed for work but appearing worn and tired without her mascara or lipstick. She gave me a quick look as I ate my cereal meditatively and she started to open her mouth to say something but stopped herself, apparently thinking better of it. Instead, she turned to her pre-programmed coffee pot to fill her oversized mug.
The rich, comforting smell wafted toward me as she made herself some toast. After buttering both pieces, she sat down at the far end of the table and eyed me cautiously. I knew what she was thinking. She wanted to wish me a happy birthday but wasn’t sure if my mood could handle even bringing up the subject, fearing what painful memories might resurface.
I sympathized with her, sitting there all anxious and torn. Resolutely, I forced myself to tuck away my depressing thoughts and put her out of her misery before a shadow had a chance to materialize over her head. I put on my favorite lighthearted, sarcastic face and topped it off with an ornery smile.
“So, it was on this glorious day seventeen years ago that you endured fifteen hours of hard labor and finally gave birth to an eight pound fourteen ounce bundle of joy. How will you celebrate the most horrific yet rewarding accomplishment of your life?”
She let out a nervous but genuine laugh and sighed with relief. “Well, that depends on what the horrific yet rewarding bundle of joy has planned.”
When my sister walked briskly into the kitchen, I was saved from having to discuss the birthday plans I had already made with my two friends from school rather than with my family. Mom and I both looked at her and then went back to eating our breakfast. As Hanna poured herself some cereal, she took a sideways glance at the two of us, trying to decipher whether or not the topic of my birthday was safe.
Apparently she decided we seemed cheerful enough, because she plopped down beside us and asked, “So, Mom, have you already begun your captivating story of our birth, or was I fortunate enough to miss it this year?”
Mom smirked. “No…you weren’t.” Every year on our birthdays, our mom had this weird ritual of telling us the details of our birth, regardless of how it obviously never changed or got any more exciting.
“I was just about to, but I was waiting on you.” She gave my sister a pointed look, who then rolled her eyes and continued eating her cereal. “Well, Iris, you know the part about how the nurses almost had to deliver you because the doctor wasn’t in the room when you started crowning—”
“Oh, save me the gory details!” Hanna raised her hand in protest and turned her head with her face all scrunched up. She and I must have been getting the same mental picture.
“Oh, get over it.” Our mom swatted at Hanna’s hand. “It won’t be too long until Jenny will be going through the same thing. I know she’s only two months pregnant now, but seven months goes by quickly.” She paused with a reflective smile, getting sidetracked thinking about having her first grandchild. My oldest sister Jenny and her husband Austin had been trying for four years now to conceive.
“Back to earth, Mom.” Hanna waved her hand in front of our mother’s face playfully. “You know, Iris pretty much knows the whole story, since you’ve told it to us sixteen times already. So why don’t you just skip all the gross stuff and get straight to her name. That’s the best part anyway.”
“Okay, fine.” Our mom repositioned herself, only slightly miffed, and carried on with her enthusiasm intact. “So the doctor showed up just in time to run over and basically catch you. Then when we were finally able to take a look at you and see your beautiful violet eyes, we knew we couldn’t name you Susan like we’d planned. The nurse came over and said, ‘Look at those gorgeous violet irises!’ and we knew that was it. Iris Kohl was your name.”
As many times as I’d heard that story, I still blushed at the compliment, “gorgeous violet irises.” It was rare to have violet eyes, and they were my one feature I truly loved.
I had long, naturally wavy, dark brown hair with heavy side-swept bangs that sometimes fell into my eyes, but I thought of my hair and bangs as more of a shield than an accessory. My skin was too pale from retreating to my bedroom and reading or doing homework to really call it an asset. I was average height and skinny, but not as much the curvy, sexy type of skinny as the boyish, flat as an ironing board skinny. Needless to say, my eyes were my favorite feature. Ironically, they were also the source of my unique curse that brought so much anxiety and isolation.
“Well, thanks for that riveting tale, but I’ve got to go or I’m going to be late for work.” Hanna got up from her chair swiftly, slurped what was left of her milk, and took her dishes to the sink to rinse off.
I checked the clock. “You’d better get going too, Mom.” I gave her an encouraging smile to assure her I’d be okay left alone, but she hesitated in her seat uncomfortably.
“So what about your birthday plans tonight?” She lifted her head slowly and smiled at me, making me feel guilty for making plans that didn’t include my family. It was just easier to put on a face and celebrate with people who didn’t know there was something else unique about this day. Since it had happened, the whole celebration thing had just been awkward for us all.
Their expectant faces clearly needed some sort of explanation. “I was going to hang out at Nicole’s house with her and Lexi tonight. You know the Bensons.” She nodded but stayed quiet. I threw in some minor details. “Nicole’s going to order some pizza, and Lexi’s picking out some chick flick for us to watch.”
I hoped that would suffice. But when my mom sighed and looked over to the coffee table in the living room at a small wrapped present that was undoubtedly for me, I added hastily, “But I won’t leave until you get home from work if you want.”
She smiled at me and stood up to retrieve the present. “It’s okay,” she assured me, though I sensed an undertone of disappointment. My sister stayed by the sink in uneasy silence while my mom picked up the gift and brought it back to me. “You don’t have to wait to go out tonight. Just open your present now before Hanna and I go to work. It’s from both of us.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I took the gift with slight reservations and took a deep breath, trying to clear my head and force myself to just enjoy a day that’s supposed to be enjoyable. When I eventually opened it, I grinned. It was the book I’d been hinting about, along with a gift card to my favorite bookstore.
“I love it! It’s perfect.” I beamed at my mom and sister, treasuring the book in my hands as I stood up to give them both hugs that were a little too tight and too charged with emotion for me to continue for long. After finally convincing them it was okay to leave, I retreated to my room with my new book.
* * * *
Forty-eight hours later, I was driving to school still kicking myself for ruining my birthday party. First I had lamely fallen asleep early, and then I’d surprised my friends by practically jumping out of bed the next morning, feeling choked. To top it all off, I had even smacked Nicole in the stomach with my flailing arm.
I hadn’t wanted to alarm them by divulging my recurring dream that always ended with a choking sensation. Luckily, I didn’t have to. Nicole just assumed I was freaked out by waking up somewhere other than my bed and calmly reminded me where I was. I went with her assumption and pretended to feel better.
The reason I’d fallen asleep early was because Lexi had selected a chick flick for the occasion without my input—the movie Ghost. I wouldn’t have minded the girly drama of it, but the fact that it graphically depicted what I went through every day had immediately launched me into panic mode. I knew there was no way I could watch that movie with my friends, but I’d been stuck with no place to hide and no believable excuse to give. Nicole and Lexi had obviously sensed my mood change but had just dealt with it silently like they always did.
Of course, the shadows in Ghost were created with ancient special effects and were pitifully two-dimensional—a far cry from what I was forced to see in real life. Still, the shadowy demons seizing the villain and dragging him away screaming was almost more than I could handle. By the time the movie was over, I was so worn out I excused myself and went to bed. The next thing I remember was the choking sensation that jerked me back into consciousness.
I arrived at school earlier than normal, so I wasn’t surprised to find some students in the parking lot talking. What did surprise me, though, was that quite a few had hazy shadows over them, and most of the students were huddled together like they were talking about some serious issue or event. I couldn’t hear them, but something about it seemed more than just disconcerting. Something was wrong.
When I got to English and opened the door, I gasped audibly as my suspicions were confirmed. All the students were in clusters talking to their friends, some looking worried, some crying, others silently taking it all in. Even our new teacher, Mr. Delaney, was at his computer, intently reading something with a concerned frown on his face.
However, the thing that made me gasp wasn’t the people. It was their shadows. There was a swarm of them hovering over the students, whispering to them, making them anxious or upset. The shadows didn’t appear to be very strong or fierce, but the amount in the room was staggering.
I marched briskly to my seat, dodging the shadows as best I could without looking strange—not that anyone was watching me. Well, that’s not entirely true. As I passed by Mr. Delaney’s desk, taking in his bright, calming scent that hardly seemed to affect the classroom today, he lifted his distraught face to me and pressed his lips together. He regarded me with understanding and sympathy in his eyes until I began to wonder anxiously if all this had something to do with me.
Lexi, who had already been eavesdropping and had caught most of the story, promptly filled me in. “Okay, so you know Marcus Beaman and that new yellow Camaro he drives?”
Why did that car sound familiar? “Yeah,” I said hesitantly, “I know him.”
“Well, I guess he got in a terrible wreck Friday night, and he’s in the hospital in critical condition.”
“Oh, my gosh!” I breathed, suddenly realizing why that car sounded so familiar. I remembered clearly now the two sinister shadows that had been snooping around his car Friday after school and how one had given me that horrible, evil grin. I trembled slightly at the memory and closed my eyes to hold myself together.
“I know!” Lexi obviously thought my shock was in response to her news instead of my realization.
“So, he’s alive though?” I asked meekly.
“Oh…yeah. Well, for now anyway.” She hesitated. “They say he’s in ICU in critical condition, so everyone’s worried. Nobody’s sure what’s going to happen to him. If he’ll recover fully…or at all…I’ve heard such horrible things about the crash though.” Lexi bit her lip as if she were going to cry too.
I wouldn’t have been able to handle her crying or the shadow that would have most likely followed.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” I lied. “I mean these stories always get blown way out of proportion. Let’s just wait to freak out until we hear from someone who knows.” I smiled, trying to appear convincing and hopeful while swallowing the guilt I inevitably felt.
I guessed she bought it, because she smiled and nodded, and then turned to the front where Mr. Delaney was about to address us. Please don’t give us any bad news, I pleaded silently. Or at least make it sound better than it is.
Before he began speaking, he stared out into the sea of students with a calm yet commanding gaze, and I was baffled by the immediate reaction of the shadows to his close proximity and glare. They all ceased their crazy, chaotic swarming and hovering and fluttered back behind the students, crouching down low in an attempt to hide. A few brave ones peered out at him from over shoulders but only briefly before cowering back down.
What just happened? In awe with eyes and mouth wide open, I turned back to face Mr. Delaney. He didn’t seem to notice.
“Obviously, you’ve all already heard about Marcus Beaman.” He paused to make sure we were listening. It didn’t take long for our silent anticipation to replace the chatter.
“Administration sent an e-mail with all the details they have so far from the parents. They want us to let you know so you have the facts. You know how these stories can sometimes get out of control.”
Lexi and I gave each other a look as Mr. Delaney went to his computer to read the e-mail aloud. With his back turned, some of the shadows moved a little more freely, but they stayed behind their human shields.
Mr. Delaney bent over and began reading the computer screen. “He was in a roll-over Friday night. No other vehicle was involved. It was determined to be a complete accident. No one was to blame.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, observing us for a brief moment, and I swear he looked straight at me. “He was immediately taken to ICU and he’s been there since. However, he has shown some improvements since he arrived Friday night. He has one broken leg, two broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a fractured clavicle.”
“What’s a clavicle?” someone blurted out from the back of the room.
Mr. Delaney looked up as the rest of the class groaned in unison at his rude interruption, though I knew several of them were wondering the same thing.
“A clavicle is your collarbone,” he answered patiently and then bent back down to his computer, opening his mouth to continue the update.
“So why don’t they just call it a collarbone?” This time the whole class couldn’t contain their disdain as they twisted in their creaking chairs to glare at the student in disgust.
“Seriously?” a girl from the front row shouted back to him. I recognized her as a close friend of Marcus’s and observed the shadow hovering near her from behind. “Marcus could die and you want to debate medical terminology?”
And that was how the rest of the day continued. I was so anxious to get out of there and away from all the shadows that I hardly paid attention in any of my classes and barely even noticed Josh in Science.
As I drove home, I kept reenacting in my mind what I guessed had happened with Marcus. The two shadows had probably ridden around with him in his car all day, until that evening when they distracted or harassed him until it was too much for him to handle. I didn’t know how they had done it, but I was positive they were the culprits.
And what was up with Mr. Delaney and his strange, intimidating effect on the shadows? I had never seen that before, and I didn’t know whether to be impressed or frightened. Also, why did he look at me when he said the wreck was an accident? Surely, he didn’t think I had anything to do with it. Why would he? He didn’t even know me…did he?
As I was pondering all of this, my attention was diverted to a dark, flickering movement I caught out of the corner of my eye. A black shadow fluttered chaotically in the passenger seat of a car on my left, distracting the driver. She was peering over her shoulder and scolding her overly animated kids, unaware that the car in front of her had just come to a complete stop. Its left blinker flashed like a red caution sign, but the mother was now engulfed in the shadow, still facing backward.
I wanted to honk or scream or do anything to prevent what I was about to witness, but before I had the chance, I was blinded by a brilliant light as it swooped past me and into the darkened car.
What happened next was something I’ll never forget. I’d only seen the bright figures of light a few times, but with each incident, time seemed to slow down. It was never that way with the shadows. They just moved about our world as if they owned it and were a part of it, but the light figures…it was as though they were from a place much greater than earth where time didn’t even apply.
The brilliant mass of light soared into the car through the passenger side, and time suddenly slowed to a crawl. The mother and her children barely moved as the bright form began to wrap itself around the squirming, now terrified shadow. The next thing I saw was light and dark fighting fiercely but briefly inside the car before the shadow was overtaken, ripped from its hold on the mother, dragged out of the car, and then squeezed into nothingness. The light faded just as quickly.
Time sped back up again as the mother spun back around just in time to slam on her brakes and screech to a stop inches behind the bumper and the still-flashing blinker.
I immediately pulled over and started breathing heavily, not sure if I truly believed what my eyes had just seen. Had I actually witnessed someone being saved from the shadows? I had seen a few interventions before, but never that dramatic, and I was left with mixed feelings.
Why did a bright form of light rescue this woman and her kids but not Marcus? For that matter…my mind automatically flashed back to my disastrous fourteenth birthday, but I swiftly tucked the memory back into my mental file labeled “Never talk about” and slammed the drawer shut.
Chapter 3
The next day was relatively easier, but not because of anything I had done. I had spent the evening cleaning my room, a poor substitute for fixing the screwed-up world, and reading my new book, a sad attempt at escaping my own screwed-up life. Luckily, I at least didn’t have to be inundated again with a swarm of shadows because Mr. Delaney gave us the new update that Marcus was greatly improving. He would be out of school for a few weeks, in and out of the hospital, but he was out of ICU. He was expected to make a full recovery.
By the time Science finally arrived with the end of the school day and I was greeted with Josh’s flirtatious smile, I was myself again. Our shy, little flirtatious routine had become somewhat of a comfort blanket for me, just charged with a lot of heat and electricity.
At the end of class amidst the noise and racket of binders clicking, books slamming, zippers zipping, and everyone standing to their feet, Mr. Keller tried to yell over us, “Hey! Don’t forget, you have a test over chapters seven through nine tomorrow!”
I didn’t know who else actually heard him, but I did and immediately became concerned. Which “good old friends” were those chapters even about?
I turned to Nicole and frowned. “Jenny and her husband are coming over for dinner tonight. I probably won’t have time to study.”
She just shrugged, but someone touched the back of my arm. I twirled around to see Josh standing so close to me I would have immediately backed away had it been someone else. His closeness made my heart beat irregularly, but I stood my ground, trying hard not to look out of my element.
His hand still on my arm, he leaned in and brought his lips to my ear to whisper intimately, “You know you’re smart enough to ace the test without even trying, much less studying.”
I blushed at the compliment and almost fainted deliriously at his breath brushing against my ear. As I stammered a thank-you, I caught Nicole winking at me.
That night, as Hanna and I helped Mom get things ready for dinner, it was obvious our mother was excited. It was only a few weeks ago that Jenny had announced her pregnancy, and our mother hadn’t seen Jenny or her husband since then. This dinner would without a doubt be all about my sister and the baby that was not yet the size of a peanut.
I had set the table and made sure every plate, cup and piece of silverware was situated properly when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” I volunteered.
Hanna, who was much better at cooking than me, was helping Mom finish up a few of the dishes. Both of them perked up at the sound of the doorbell.
“Hey, Sis!” Jenny exclaimed as she gave me a delicate but sincere hug.
Let me guess. She was already being overly careful about everything she did for the baby’s sake. I guess I couldn’t blame her after all they had gone through to conceive.
“Hey, Jenny!” I gave her a warm smile as she pulled away from me, beaming.
They both made their way into the foyer, and her husband, Austin, shut the door behind them.
“Hi, Austin.” I went to give him a quick hug but received a giant, long squeeze instead.
“Hey, Squirt.” He eventually released his death grip and grinned from ear to ear.
I rolled my eyes and smiled back self-consciously. I hadn’t seen him smile like that in a long time. It reminded me of when they’d first started dating and I’d formed a small crush on him. He was an attractive guy back then and still was, but there had been so many years in between where his anger and depression about their infertility issues had been revealed on his face and in his actions…not to mention over his head in an opaque, shadowy mass.
“Everything looks so good, Mom!” Jenny exclaimed as she surveyed the set-up on the table—a roast chicken with garlic and rosemary, mashed potatoes piled high and steaming, onion-glazed green beans, buttery rolls, and a streusel-topped apple pie. “You didn’t have to do all of this just for us.” She was obviously touched. It wasn’t a rare occasion when Jenny and Austin came over for dinner, but we all knew this was supposed to be a celebration of sorts.
Our mother laughed. “Oh, I know, sweetie. I just felt like making something special for the occasion.” She smiled at Jenny as so many unspoken words passed between them and then motioned for Jenny to give her a hug.
Tears in her eyes, Jenny went to embrace her and murmured through my mom’s sleeve, “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, sweetie,” our mom said softly, her eyes close to tearing up as well as she stroked her hair.
Hanna smiled at me and winked.
I laughed. “Well, now that the awkward moment is out of the way…let’s have dinner, shall we?”
Everyone chuckled. Uncomfortable, overly-emotional situations made me nervous, so as a survival skill, I had developed a knack for ice-breaking. Mom and Jenny blew their noses and sat down with the rest of us.
I had seen my sister emotional several times the last few years as she kept visiting doctors, getting her hopes up, and not getting results. It had also pained me to see a dim, oppressive shadow develop over her but not be able to do anything about it, knowing it was filling her with lies of guilt and hopelessness. I’d felt horrible for her, but I’d also tried to avoid her as much as possible. It was too uncomfortable being around such darkness.
Jenny and Austin were now, however, both completely shadow-free. Dinner together was actually going to be enjoyable for a change.
* * * *
I spent the whole first half of school the next day kicking myself for failing to study for my science test sixth period. I had gotten so caught up with dinner and company and baby talk the night before that I completely skipped homework and went straight to bed. Being unprepared was not something I was used to.
English with Mr. Delaney calmed me down temporarily as it had quickly become my favorite class. Partly because I inexplicably felt accepted and encouraged by our new teacher, but mostly because his was the only class unoccupied by shadows…after that strange experience with the mob of them a few days prior.
Once I left his class, though, and that comforting atmosphere that permeated his room, my anxiety about the test resurfaced and continued through Trig and Computer Apps. The minute the bell rang for lunch, I rushed to the lunchroom, claimed our usual secluded lunch table, and opened my science folder for my notes. Science was not my strongest subject, especially when I was expected to identify all of these random rock and mineral names I couldn’t even pronounce.