Moar story

So this is mostly for Erin since she's the only one that really wants this to go anywhere it seems, so Erin, enjoy.


She had hardly put a foot on the pavement before she was swept off into another black sedan and driven into a bustling city. She had grown up in a small town in England, but had lived in Vegas for years; Sin City had nothing on the amount of people here. After a short drive she was escorted out of the car into a large building.

"Miss Cox, please keep up," Agen Brown barked.

Kayleigh had hardly noticed the sluggish pace she had adopted, but quickly hop-skipped to Brown's side, still basking in the moment. She had finally made it. She was walking the halls that her father had, seeing what he would see, and soon, she would be doing what he had done. Almost. She wasn't working with MI-6, but one day she might be lucky enough to do so. Brown walked her through a maze of hallways before opening a set of double doors and leading her into a dimly lit room. There were voices beyond a wall, and she recognized the foreign accent at once. Australian. Agent Brown lead her around a corner where the voices stopped. Bending over a table were four people, two men, and two women, who had been in the middle of a rather serious conversation when she stepped in. Everyone at the table looked up at her, and the range of emotions on their faces was surprising.

A woman with curly auburn hair and dazzling green eyes held genuine surprise for a brief moment before quickly narrowing at her. She wasn't trying at all to disguise the scorn.

The other woman brushed her long black bangs out of her eyes. Confusion.

One of the men raised one of his brows. He wasn't impressed.

The last held one unmistakable emotion. Lust.

Kayleigh rolled her eyes at the man with the dilated pupils; men are all the same. She thought to herself. Agent Brown did little in the way of introductions, simply saying her name and quickly leaving the room, casting a final glance at the curly-haired woman. Kayleigh stood there, waiting for someone to say something, but when the curly-haired woman gathered a stack of papers off the table in a huff, brushing past Kayleigh with a growl. As if her departure had given him permission, Lusty sidled up to her, a sly look in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Kayleigh, huh?” he said, his accent was the same she had pegged earlier. “You must be the cop from Las Vegas,” he extended a hand to her. “The name’s Aidan Kellet.”

Politely she shook his hand and said, “It’s nice to meet you Aidan, and the answer to your unasked question is no. I won’t sleep with you.”

A smile broke across the faces of everyone, save Aidan, in the room and a low chuckle rumbled through.

“I like you,” said the woman with black hair. “I’m Skye Hayes. Get all your jokes out now because I don’t want to hear any of them later.”

Kayleigh smiled to herself, but said nothing. The other man in the room smiled and Kayleigh noticed her heart skip a beat. Had his smile really just done that to her? She smiled politely back, quietly analyzing him. He was taller than her in three inch heels, which put him over six feet. His hair was dusty blonde, falling messily over his brow. It looked as though he had just rolled out of bed for a photoshoot and they paired him with some gorgeous model to sell cologne. He could get a model... Kayleigh thought to herself. His eyes were sparkling brown and watching her as intently as she was him. She felt her cheeks go warm. He had to be giving her a false reading. No one had produced those feelings from her. Ever. Not even when they tried to be charming.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Kayleigh.” he said. “I’m Tyson Koch. The man in charge--”

“--only in this room,” mumbled Aidan, still standing in the doorway with Kayleigh.

“Of this operation.” Tyson finished tersely.

Skye laughed, crossing the room and taking Kayleigh by the wrist and pulling her into the middle of the room by the table.

“Let’s get started, yeah?” she asked, eyeing the men angrily. “Time is of the essence here.”

Tyson nodded, crossing the table to a smart board on the wall and tapping the screen. What looked like a murder board back at the precinct appeared. It was filled with pictures of people and places as well as documents. As Tyson pulled other documents onto the screen Kayleigh stepped toward the board, focusing on the pictures of people. One image had caught her attention. From what she had seen, the mug shots were fairly standard, their faces blank as they were instructed, but one had a slight contraction in his upper lip; the beginning of a snarl. Contempt.

She didn’t know how to use the board, but she tapped the picture, dragging it into the center of the screen. “Who is this?” she asked.

Aidan was right behind her, speaking into her ear. “He’s called Etzio, but his given name is Carter Sattiotori, why?” His voice had been so close to her she jumped backward, straight into his chest. “Mmm, if you wanted to be close to me all you had to do was ask.”

Kayleigh took a deep breath, smiling slyly to herself. She flexed her back, rubbing it against his chest as she straightened her posture, glancing over her shoulder, portraying the emotion of desire.

“You’re right,” she said, turning toward him, noticing the confusion of Skye and Tyson, smiling again, tracing patterns up Aidan’s chest. “I want to be close...” she leaned toward him, her lips inches from his, when suddenly she turned back toward the board, putting instant distance between their bodies. “to this man.”

Aidan glared. “Why?”

“He’s got information that you need.”

“How can you know that from a picture?”

Kayleigh smiled proudly. “It’s what I’m paid to do, Aidan. I know he’s got information that you need, and I would like to speak with him.”

“He’s being held down the hall.” Tyson said, “We’ve already questioned him. He isn’t speaking.”

“Words don’t mean a thing to me. You can ask questions, all I need to do is watch.” she stared intently at the picture. “I will be in need of a video camera. That’s all.”

After ten minutes of searching, Kayleigh had a camcorder in her hands and was following Tyson to the room where they were holding Mr. Sattiotori. When she entered, she set the camera on the tripod and angled it directly at his face. His eyes were dark, unamused, and dangerous.

“This is Kayleigh, she’s consulting on this case.” Tyson said, opening a file. “Mr. Sattiotori, you were found on the scene of a highly radioactive warehouse. This is where the bomb was assembled, correct?”

Concealed smile. No answer.

“Mr Sattiotori, answer the question. We know you were involved in the production. Everything you were wearing had traces of radiation on it. Where did the bomb go?”

His eyes dropped to the left, staring at the ground for a moment. Shame.

Kayleigh cocked her head to the side. “You weren’t involved in the production. But you found the bomb. You didn’t know who had built it, and you didn’t stick around long to find out.” His eyes widened. Surprise. “But when you came back, the people who built the bomb were there. Weren’t they?”

He nodded. “I came back for the car I had seen in the back of the warehouse. When I arrived there were five men, all of their faces covered, I did not see them. They saw me, knocked me out and when I woke up, there were feds all over the place asking me where the bomb had gone.”

His voice had remained constant. He broke eye contact twice to remember details that were fuzzy, but had ended holding her eyes. He was telling the truth.

“Thank you, Mr. Sattiotori, a few more questions.” She smiled, putting him at ease. “Did you hear anything while you were in the warehouse? Names, places, times? Anything that would help us find this bomb? I know you don’t want to go up in flames, none of us do.”

Lip shrug. He knew, but wasn’t telling.

“Mr. Sattiotori, this can all be quite easy if you would just tell me what you know. I know you’re hiding it. I can see it in your face.”

“Wednesday. They said something about Wednesday and that now the people of New York would finally understand their power. They could destroy their lives and not bat an eye. There, I’ve told you everything I know. Can I go? You have no reason to hold me here.”

Tyson looked at Kayleigh, who nodded. “You may go,” he said.

Sattiotori stood, leaving the room just as the curly-haired woman opened the door.

“Tyson,” her voice was tense. “Boss wants to see you. He sounded... upset.”

Tyson’s hand went to his brow, rubbing his temples. “Thank you Zooey. Tell him I’ll be right there.”

Zooey nodded, her eyes drifting to Kayleigh and narrowing before she left the room.

“I hope he was telling the truth. For both of our sakes. We just let our only suspect walk out the door.” Tyson said, standing and leaving the room.

Short Story...

I know I haven't posted anything lately, and I apologize for that. I'll try and get some more Perfect Strangers up soon, but for now, please accept the beginning of my new little short story inspired by the most intense dream I've ever had, minus my nightmares... It doesn't have a title yet, so if any of you think of something, let me know!


The sun blazed overhead making the road something of a mirage in front of the car. The haze made the black asphalt ooze and melt in zig-zags in the distance before dropping out of sight completely. The radio was on in the car, playing the only station she could pick up, a thin sheen of sweat coated her forehead. She cursed the beater of a car she drove, but instantly forgave it for being a piece of junk, stroking the steering wheel fondly.
Kayleigh had the money to get a new car, but she couldn’t bring herself to part from the lunker her father had driven for what must have been his entire life, and now Kayleigh was determined to run it into the ground when it died. That’s how her father would have wanted it. They had brought it over seas with them when they moved from England for her father’s job. She never knew what he did, he wasn’t allowed to give her any specific details, but she knew what his job title was. MI-6 liason and Deception Specialist for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. When he was killed the week before Kayleigh’s seventeenth birthday she swore she would continue his legacy. He had always taught her what he knew, and she flew through her schooling, quickly ranking at the top of her class.

Finding work, however, was a new challenge.

Eventually she  landed herself a menial job as a cop for the Las Vegas police. She hated her job. Everything her father had taught her had been very valuable to her, and enabled her to put some of Vegas’ most wanted criminals behind bars all before she was twenty-two. The precinct was impressed by her skill, and as such, everyone wanted her on their squad, but as the director wanted, she became more of a floater, moving from case to case as her skills were required. Sure, this allowed her to dip her toes in every pool, seeing what she was best at, but it wasn’t fulfilling to her. She wanted more. She wanted to be just like her father.

Rolling into the parking garage for her apartment complex brought immediate relief from the heat outside. Despite that fact that it was nearly sundown, the temperature was still well above eighty degrees. She made her way to the elevator, stripping her blazer off of her, the material from the lining sticking to her skin as she peeled it off. When she stepped off the elevator, she was in nothing but her bra and jeans. Her door was directly across the hall; it took her two steps to reach the door, keys outstretched, when someone called her name.

“Kayleigh Cox?” the voice asked, deep and official sounding.

She looked over her left shoulder to where the voice had spoken. There was a man in a crisp black suit leaning against the wall by the elevator. His posture was rigid despite the casual pose he had adopted, his arms locked over his chest, head erect. She couldn’t see his eyes because of the dark Ray-Bans he wore, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to read him. His mouth was drawn into a thin line, lips pressed together tightly. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, his nose crinkling and brows drawing together for a fraction of a second before relaxing again. Contempt. Why was he showing her contempt?

Raymond Lezario.

This man was probably one of his cronies here to kill her because she had just put him away for life.

Her hand moved slowly to the gun at her hip.

“Are you Kayleigh Cox, Las Vegas PD?” he asked, his mouth hardly opening to speak the words.

She debated answering him, watching his face. Another flash of contempt and rising annoyance. “And you are?” she asked, her accent catching him off guard.

“Agent Brown, FBI,” he replied, relaxing only in the slightest. “I need to speak with you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Please, come in,” she said, despite the fact that she had yet to enter her home herself.

When they entered, she invited him to sit while she went to her room to throw on a t-shirt. She knew that she was taking a risk. She hadn’t asked the man for any identification, but when he had stated his name there were no signs that he was lying. When she returned he had removed his glasses and was staring intensely at her wall. She rolled her eyes; to anyone that didn’t know her occupation, she would come off as a serial killer. Her entire wall was covered in photos of faces of various people, people she knew, famous people, political figures, and random people caught on servelance photos. She had circled things in the photos, indicated their poster, facial expressions, and in each photo, determined if there was deception.

She cleared her throat. “You needed to speak with me, Agent Brown?” she asked, sitting on the sofa directly across from him.

Tearing his eyes away from the wall she couldn’t help but notice the slight fear in his eyes. “Yes, I’m here because the Bureau is in need of your skills.” he said, and her face lit up, which she quickly concealed. “We lost a great asset when your father was killed four years ago, and we’ve been watching you closely. You’re just as good as him, and we need your help on an especially puzzling case.”

“I’m listening,”

“Ever since Nine-Eleven there have been so many bomb threats and attempts we can’t keep up with them. But this particular case is different. We have the culprit, but don’t know where the bomb is. At this point time is of the essence. It’s been twenty-four hours since we apprehended him, and we have been running in circles. We need you to figure out where the bomb is before it’s too late.”

Chapter 31

Sorry this has taken me so long you guys! I've kinda hit a bit of a wall with this story. I know I have a big, huge, WTF moment coming, and I know what I need to do to achieve that now, thanks to a brilliant spark of genius flared by Erin. But the problem is getting there now, and I'm trying desperately to steer the story in that direction. Well, quick update on my life. I've moved out, you know that. I'm going crazy with the amount of reading that I've had to do for my Ancient Legacies class. We've finished the Epic of Gilgamesh, and started into the Iliad, and it's only like the third week of the semester! It's crazy! I got an A on my first exam in my music class. I can't say it was too hard, but it was definitely a challenge. I've also decided to run for Miss Orem again this year. I had such a great experience last year, and learned so much about myself that I feel I need to do it again. I also made tons of new friends, and I love the girls I competed with last year, and hope to see some of them again as contestants! I think it needs to be sunny again. My family suffers from extreme seasonal depression, and though I love the rain and all of it's glory, the snow and ominous dark clouds that roll across the sky, the early onset of darkness, and the overall frigidness of the air gets me really down. To the point that I've been bawling over things that I shouldn't. Like Once Upon A Time, for instance. Great show, by the way, but I shouldn't have been bawling when Snow had to tell James that she didn't love him, and to watch the pain it caused her was awful! Then, who knows why I went home and did this, but I watched The Notebook. I always cry in that movie. Without fail. I know that, which is why I never watch it with people. But when I was watching it this time, there is no reason why I should have been wracked with sobs. Like it was whole body tremors for the last half hour or more of the movie. I need the sunshine.... Anyway, have a chapter. It's short and I don't particularly like it.....


Chapter thirty-one


I rolled over, completely restless in the hospital bed they had confined me to. It seems I am unable to get over my “fear” of shadows and reflections. I’m constantly being hurt by glass, because that thing breaks the mirrors when it tries to get to me. I don’t know what it is, and that’s what scares me the most. The sun had gone down hours ago, and visiting hours were long past, and when my door creaked open slowly I was expecting a nurse to slip through the door, but the tall dark figure was not a staff member. My heart beat quickened as the shadow approached. I fumbled around under the sheets for the call button, frantically, as my head began to throb.

“Calm down, Laela.” whispered a familiar voice.

“Stitch?” I froze; Vance had been positive that Stitch wouldn’t be able to get to me here. “What are you doing here?”

He sat at the edge of my bed, his green eyes ablaze. “Getting past that security guard was no easy feat, love. I just wanted to see you... to make sure you’re okay.”

My walls went up, but something felt wrong; like not trusting him was a bad thing, but... Vance would never lie to me. Vance wants to protect me from the people who want to hurt me, and Stitch was one of them. I stared at him, waiting aprehensively for him to say something further. He just watched me for a moment, making my heart race. Only after I could feel the unspoken words between us did he speak up.

“I need you to trust me, Laela. I can fix this, but only if you let me.” he whispered, leaning closer.

I backed away, only slightly. “Fix what? I don’t need fixing.” I lied. I wanted this shadow to go away. I wanted to be free of it.

“Everything. I’ll make it how it was back then. Everything will be perfect again.”

The memory of that night in Florida flashed through my mind, making the blood raise to my cheeks. He smiled, making my blush more intense. I hadn’t seen him smile in my direction since that night, and something deep inside of me yearned to see that smile again. I leaned forward unconsciously, and just as instantaneously as the feeling had overwhelmed me, I recoiled, Vance’s smiling face penetrating the haze Stitch had cast on me. A sick feeling of disgust took hold on me; Stitch was using his magic on me. I could feel it in the air.

“I’m fine, I don’t need you to fix me, Stitch.” I grouched, folding my arms defensively across my chest. “Go away.”

The smile that lingered on his lips faltered. “Laela, can’t you see what’s happening to you? He’s distorting your views.”

“No he’s not. If I were dating you, I’m sure Vance would be where you are now, telling me the same thing.” I snorted. “Just because you hate each other for some obscure reason--for a girl!-- doesn’t mean that you’re going to ruin my relationship with him. Vance is an amazing guy, and you can’t change my mind just by talking smack on Vance.”

He stood up, running his hand through his hair, sighing, exhasperated. “He’s gone further than I gave him credit for...” turning, his emerald eyes ablaze, he continued. “Fine, don’t listen to me, but this isn’t the end of this. I will open your eyes to the truth.”

I clamped my jaw tight, refusing to speak. He rolled his eyes, bent forward and kissed me on the forehead before leaving in silence. My heart fluttered and I had trouble breathing for a moment, and then I called Vance.

****

A week later I was released from the hospital. Vance picked me up, sweekping up to the curb in his sleek Farrari, blond hair glistening in the dusky light. A smile broke across my lips as I practically ran to the car, jumping into the seat and kissing Vance.

“Well hello, beautiful.” he whispered, kissing me again. “How are you?”

“Happy to be out of there.” I sighed. “Let’s go do something fun.”

“It will have to wait until later, love. I’ve got family business to attend to, but Cam will take care of you until I return this evening.”

My shoulders dropped. “Va-ance,” I whined, “why did you make plans if you knew I was getting released today?”

As we pulled away from the curb he put his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry love, but it was planned for a long time. I promise I will come to you as soon as we finish. My parents are in town.” He sounded bitter.

“And I can’t meet them because...?” I prodded.

“I don’t think its a good idea, Laela. They’re very... old school.”

I raised an eyebrow. How old school could they be? It’s not like we were living together, and we didn’t see each other in school, we weren’t getting in the way of each others studies, so what was the problem?

“I haven’t told them about you.” Vance answered my silent question.

I sat back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest, jutting out my bottom lip in a pout. “Tell them about me today then.”

We rolled up to the school, slowing to a standstill, the engine purring. Cam rolled himself off the wall, approaching the car with an apprehensive air about him. He smiled curtly at Vance, opening my door and helping me out of the car. His hand lingered on my waist as he closed the door, smiling at me.

“Wonderful to see you again, Laela.” he said. “I’ll keep her with me until you get back, Vance. Tell your father hello for me.”

I looked at Cam, surprised for a moment that he knew Vance’s father, but soon enough remembered that I was the only foreigner there. Of course Vance’s apprentice would know his family. Vance smiled at me once more, bidding me farewell, and rolling away, the engine roaring as he raced down the street.

Cam lifted my hand to his lips. “I missed you, Laela.” he said.

I pulled my hand out of his and attempted to smile. “I missed you too, Cam. Now why don’t we go inside?” I suggested.

He seemed disappointed; as we walked, I glanced behind us, and in the fading light of day, something horrible caught my eye. The Shadow had replaced mine.

Aaand I'm following Erin.

I feel like the whole world is following your lead Erin, I'm starting up my own private blog for the purpose of posting Branded and getting constructive feedback from those that are privileged enough to read it. On this blog will also be the refined chapters of Alyce. They will be posted after I have put them on the Obscurely Clear blog, and have been edited and the like. This is a blog for me where I will get the feedback I need, and hope that you will join me and put your voice in. If you would like an invite, please email me at alex@tdr-ut.com.

Moving Out and Moving Up

WOOOO I'm sure you've all heard that I've moved out, but for those of you who haven't, there you go! I love it, even if the place gets a little boring since our television is broken and the roommates are never home. I swear, I'm the only one home most of the time, and it's kinda creepy. Also, they sleep forever. I'm usually awake by nine or ten, but they're all dead to the world. I also never really see one girl, and she's never said hi either, not that I haven't tried to be friendly, it's just kinda cold..... ugh. Anyway, in aaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllllll the spare time I've had after getting all my stuff straightened out, I wrote this next chapter. YAY!



Chapter thirty

As I stared at the thing that consumed my reflection the glass began to pulse, slowly at first, then more rapidly until the glass was vibrating, distorting my reflection further. I backed away until my back was pressed against the shower wall, unable to take my eyes off the horrid image before me. The black mass was moving, twisting in the distortion until it had moved past the vibrating glass as if it were preparing to cross through the reflection into the real world. A massive black hand pressed itself against the glass, black sludge dripping down the glass as it’s teeth appeared in a crooked smile. I screamed, throwing my hands out in front of me, and heard the glass shatter. I opened one eye only enough to see the mountain of glass shards covering the counter; the shadow was gone. I crossed the floor, careful to avoid the stray shards that littered the tile until I had reached the counter. I turned my face away, reaching blindly for a piece of glass. I picked up a piece of glass, feeling the sharp edges bite into my skin; warm blood flowed down my hand and I loosened my grip, slowly opening my eyes to look into the piece of glass. The shadow was still there. I screamed again, stumbling backward into the wall, sending myself sprawling onto the floor, glass entering my flesh on my legs, arms, and palms. Despite the glass cutting into my flesh, I scrambled away from the glass on the floor and pressed myself into the wall, closing my eyes as tight as I could, my heart racing, pounding out of my chest, thumping in my head, and making me feel dizzy.

**********
“Laela!” Someone was shouting my name, I could feel their hands on my body, feeling me for any signs of life. “Laela, please talk to me!”

My eyes fluttered open, drawing the chaos of color into focus. There was a uniform sigh in the room, and suddenly I was being gathered into someone’s chest. My head was pounding, my chest felt heavy like my lungs had been filled with cement, and I couldn’t feel my arms. Someone’s lips pecked my forehead.

“Laela, darling, can you hear me?” It was Vance’s voice that cut through the fog in my mind.

I nodded, slowly, it hurt to move. What happened...? I asked myself, hoping to recall the events before I passed out; I couldn’t remember anything until... the shadow. My body tensed up, the muscles in my legs and arms contracting painfully as I clawed for Vance’s shirt, my heart raced and my vision spun. Vance picked me up, carrying me out of the room.

“Get someone to clean up that glass. I’m taking her to the hospital.” Vance told whoever was in the room with him. “Make sure the others know where she is, but do not let Stitch in there alone. Do you understand?” his voice had become icy.

“Yes, Vance.” Replied Cam.

I vaguely recalled leaving the room, but hardly remembered leaving the building. The next thing I remembered was waking up in a hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. I sat up slowly, my head throbbing.

“Ye took a righ’ nasty fall,” Mused someone in the far corner of the room; their accent was thick. Definitely not English. I glanced toward them, finding a boy sitting on the edge of a bed. His eyes were dark, but sparkling mysteriously. He had a long gash across the bridge of his nose, black eyes, and bloody knuckles. “Wha’ happened?”

I sighed, flinching at the sharp pain in my chest. “Some broken glass... I fell on it.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “You’re tellin’ me you jus’ fell on some broken glass? Likely story. Looks like ye jumped out ah window, darlin’.”

“I did not jump out a window!” I shouted indignantly, crossing my thickly bandaged arms over my chest, wincing again. “A mirror broke, and I... fell.”

“Tha’ pause there speaks volumes, lassy.” He winked, “Afraid of your own reflection?”

You would be too if your reflection looked like mine. I thought to myself. “And what about you?” I glanced over his dirty figure. Street fight? Attempted suicide? “You’re not looking too good yourself.”

He glanced down at himself. “I was pretty sure life wasn’t worth livin’, so I was gonna end it, but didn’t wan’ te do it myself. So I picked a right nasty fight with some ugly bloke at the bar. We’ll jus’ say my plan ain’t workin’ so well.” He winked. “However, now I know there’s some sunshine left in the world.”

I rolled my eyes as a nurse came in, followed by a tall blonde that made my heart flutter. Vance stepped around the nurse, taking a few long strides to my bedside, scooping my hand up and pressing the bandages to his lips. His eyes were tired, the usual vibrant blue was dark, almost purple, his smile was weak, as if he had been straining himself for far too long. He waved the nurse away; She left reluctantly, and closed the door behind her. I noticed her shadowy figure hovering outside the door. She wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was the boy at the end of the room. He sat on his bed, staring at us silently.

“How are you feeling?” Vance asked quietly.

“It hurts...” I said, burrowing my head into his chest. “Make it go away.”

“I wish I could,” he sighed.

“Why can’t you?” My head shot up, I was staring intensely into his eyes, willing him to give me an answer.

“Too many people have seen your injuries. It takes a lot of power and energy to alter memories, and there are just too many people to waste that much power for. I’m sorry.”

I frowned. “Then can you at least speed the process up?” Something dark moved out of the corner of my eye. Instinctively, I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around Vance’s body, and latching onto him. My body quaked and my heart rate rose. I hardly noticed the fact I was wimpering until Vance said something about it.

“Are you alright, love?” His eyes brightened for an instant, darkening again almost as quickly. “Has something frightened you?”

“Sh-shadow...” I whispered. “It’s watching me...”

He glanced around the room. “Love, he may be staring, but he’s no shadow.”

“Like ye’d know, Vance.” the boy replied. He was leaning against the wall now, standing, arms crossed over his chest in defiance. “It’s been a long time since ye’ve seen me. How are ye te know if I haven’ become a shadow. I always was when’ere ye were round.”

Vance clicked his tongue. “Obviously your obsessive need to be in the spotligght has lead to fighting. Shame.”

The boy straighened up, squaring his shoulders. I untucked myself from Vance’s arms to look at him, and screamed. Behind him was a mirror, and in it, the shadow. I hurled myself backwards, rolling off the bed, the hospital gown spreading to reveal my hardly covered body. The IV in my arm was ripped out painfully as I backed away from the bed; my whole body was shaking. The orderly outside the door came rushing in at the sound of my scream and the clamor that followed. She rushed to me, bending down to look into my eyes. My heart was racing and I was sure my pupils were dialated. I could hear the rush of blood in my ears, the sound drowning out the rest of the world around me. All I could see was the shadow. It was coming closer in the glass as it had done before. It was coming through; it was coming to get me. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat, feeling as multiple sets of hands braced me, pulling me off the cold tile floor. They were saying something to me, but I didn’t understand it.

“Calm down, love. You have nothing to fear.” whispered a familiar voice in my head. I couldn’t place who it belonged to, but it was soothing. “We’ll fix this. Together, you just have to trust me.”

As the orderlies moved me across the room back to my bed, a black movemet out of  the corner of my eye caused me to scream and flail wildly again. In the reflection of the nurse’s nametag I could see the shadow. I threw myself back, surprising them enough that they lost their hold on me. I dashed across the room, cowering behind Vance. I gripped his shirt so tightly in my hands that my knuckles were turning white. His hand floated gracefully to mine, holding it gently; the instant his skin was on mine, my panic subsided and I could think clearly. I straightened up, brushing the mess of curls away from my face. The orderlies were staring at me from the other side of the room, bewildered at the amount of strength I had shown.

“Laela, are you alright?” Vance asked, staring straight forward, keeping eye contact with the nurses.

I couldn’t find my voice for a moment, so I nodded in response.

“What frightened you last night?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I had already tried to tell him once that it was the shadow, and he had thought I was reffering to the strange boy on the other side of the room. But I needed him to understand. Without releasing my hold on his shirt I moved around him to look him in the eye.

“A shadow... where my reflection should have been.” My voice was flat, as serious as I could be without shivering. I felt as if my eyes were on fire, the intenseness of my statement was welling up inside me.

Something flashed across his face, consealed scorn, but instantly disappeared. “Are you positive?” his voice matched mine, his face blank.

I nodded. “It was huge. Eyes, glowing red. It was as if it were trying to escape from the mirror. It happened again, just now. I saw it in the mirror over there, and again in the nurse’s name tag.” My voice shook a bit.

“Sciophobia,” whispered one of the nurses behind me.

The scorn flashed across Vance’s face again, only for a moment. “She’s not afriad of shadows. This kind of thing doesn’t just set in over night.”

But what if it did? Whispered a voice in my head. What if He cursed you with it?

I SURVIVED

I survived my first semester of finals in college, and I'm proud to say that I did very well on them!!! I got a B on my biology final, which is amazing considering I never got higher than maybe a 65% on most of his other exams. I was sooooo happy! And, that's not all! I'm moving out soon! Like in a week. Oh goodness, I didn't think it was that close! AHHH! Hopefully I'll be able to stay on top of Perfect Strangers while I'm there. I don't think it should be too bad! I'm excited, though I don't know any of my roommates. I knew the girl that I bought the contract from, but that's it.

In other news, I had a brilliant idea the other day. I wanted to see what you guys would do. I want to have a little contest thing where anyone that wishes to participate can write me a story about one of Laela's past lives. It can be in any time period, considering she lives for at least 100 years before she dies, and it takes one year for her to be reincarnated. The story can be written in any form you like. A flashback, a dream, even a conversation if you want it like that. It can also be with either Stitch or Vance. I'd love to see what you guys come up with!! The winner will get their story put into Perfect Strangers as it fits in, depending on who the life was spent with. We can have up to two winners since she has shared lives with both Stitch and Vance in the past. If you have any questions you would like answered, facebook me, or leave a comment below! As per submissions, email me or send it on facebook! And now without further adieu, I give you chapter twenty-nine.


Chapter twenty-nine

Rage bubbled up inside me. How could I be so stupid? After my the miscarriage I had vowed never to put myself in that situation again. I stopped taking drugs, for the most part, and quit drinking, again for the most part, so I didn’t put myself in that situation--ever. I swiped my diary off my bed with a shreik, its spine crashing against the wall, flattening the pages from the force before crumbling to the ground. The air was getting thick, almost suffocatingly so, the lights flickering around me. I clamped my teeth together, my thick breaths coming out as hissing sounds, my hands twitching in and out of fists. I grunted again, kicking my bathroom door, bitter tears slipping down my cheeks.

My bedroom door opened and closed. I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder; I knew who it was.

“Are you okay, Laela?” Kitty asked, sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at me. I could feel her nervous smile. But that wasn’t all I could feel.

I turned to her, my cheeks still glistening with tears, eyes wide in wonder. “Kitty, you... you’re like me.” I said, staring at her. The ether in the air was consentrated around her, giving off a soft pink glow. It was her magical aura. Vance had explained it to me. Every sorcerer, or sorceress, had an aura, and each was colored. It was unique to them, and their powers. “You’re a sorceress.”

Her breath hitched, her green eyes widening. “How... like you?” she seemed unable to process the information.

“I’m a sorceress too!” the rage was suddenly gone, replaced by elation that I had a friend besides Vance to share my secrets with.

“How... do you know that?”

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t excited about this. She didn’t have to hide her powers anymore either. We could be ourselves. “How do I know you’re a sorceress? Or how do I know I’m a sorceress?”

“Both.” Her hand twitched to her pocket where I could see the shape of her phone, but she never reached it.

“Well, no thanks to anyone else, I pretty much discovered part of my powers myself... but I had help in getting the rest of them back. Well, most of them. Apparently since I’m supposed to be this super...” I had told Kitty once before about the dreams, and she had suggested that maybe I had lived those other lives before, she even told me she believed in reincarnation, but her conversation with Stitch back in Florida suddenly came to mind and I stopped short. What if she and Stitch were in cahoots? “I’m still working on them. It’s hard getting used to all this power.” I finished.

“How did you know about me?” Her voice shook and I could see her aura quiver nervously.

“I can see it. Your aura, that is. It’s a nice pink color. Ether concentrates around people who can manipulate it, and sorcerers each have their own unique color to their arua. They can’t see their own, so they don’t really know what color it is unless someone tells them... it identifies them to other sorcerers.” I felt as if I were lecturing, but she wasn’t stopping me. “What color is my aura?”

She stared at me for a long time.

She shook her head, not saying a word.

“Oh come on, what color is it?”

She shook her head again. “It’s not there.”

Not there? That couldn’t be right. I rushed to the mirror in the bathroom; I wasn’t hoping to see the color of my aura, but I had seen the way the ether particles in the air had a tendency to concentrate themselves around sorcerers, of course Vance was the only other person I had met until now. But the ehter was always so strong around Vance, his aura was a flaming red, almost as if he were surrounded by vivid fire. What I saw in the mirror made me scream.

My reflection was distorted, as if it were being put through a filter, passing through a grainy television set. My reflection flickered; I leaned forward to inspect my reflection as Kitty came rushing into the bathroom, screaming when she saw my reflection. Nothing was affecting her reflection, so the mirror had no part in this awful sight. It was something about me that was changing the image I saw. But what?

I looked at her, hoping for an answer. She shook her head, her eyes full of fear.

“What have you been doing? Who told you about your powers?” She asked suddenly, her voice taking a rather hostile tone.

“Nothing!” I shouted, my hand flying to my chest. “Vance told me about them! When I found out about Tony I was with Vance and I had a blowout. He explained it to me... so I would understand what had happened and why I felt different, that’s all!”

Her eyes had become slits, her jaw clenched and her top lip quivered. “What did Vance say?”

A thought suddenly burst into my mind as if a switch had been flipped. “You knew,” I was appauled that she hadn’t said anything when she knew all along. She had known I was a sorceress and said nothing. “How could you keep that a secret?!” I felt tears burning the edges of my eyes. I pushed past her into my room, yanking open my drawers and pulling a few pairs of clothes out. “Some friend you are.”

She watched me as I shoved the clothes into a small bag and grabbed a few other esential belongings before storming away from her into the living room where I had left my phone. It was dark, but the twins were watching a movie on the couch. They both looked up at me as I banged into the room, grabbing my phone and charger off the bar and shoving it into my bag. I pressed one button and walked out the door, holding the phone to my ear. It rang a few times before he answered.

“Laela, why are you still up? Shouldn’t you be sleeping, you have class in the morning?” Hearing Vance’s voice was calming.

“I need you. I need to be away from Kitty right now. She... she’s in with Stitch. They’re working together.” I felt the tears I had been holding back start streaming down my face. “I can’t... I just can’t right now.”

There was a loud crash from somewhere behind Vance and a deep guttural snarl. “As mch as I wish I could be with you , or come to get you, I’m a little tied up at the moment.” There was another snarl, followed by what sounded like a muffled scream. “Can you go stay with Cam for the night?”

“No... we aren’t allowed in the boys rooms after ten. If I get caught I could be expelled.” I explained, feeling suddenly lost and without direction or purpose.

He sighed. “No one will catch you. I’ll let Cam know you’re on your way up. He’s on the eighth floor. Room two-oh-seven. I’ll pick you up after school tomorrow and you can stay the weekend.”

I wanted to complain, but Vance quickly said ‘I love you’ and hung up the phone. My heart was pounding out of my chest. Had he just said those words? Was I imagining it because I needed to hear them again, to hear those words from a boy...? I had lost Tony. I had lost that constant, and now I was imagining people telling me that to fill the gaps. Stumbling into the elevator I braced myself against the cold wall as the car lurched upward, and that’s when the tears began. I don’t know what I was crying about, if it was Tony, or Kitty, or even something else, but the tears came hard and fast, and they didn’t let up as I stumbled blindly out of the elevator. I ran the back of my hand over my cheeks, but no matter how many times I did, the tears kept flowing, drowning my skin. Dark shadows moved up and down the walls, blurred from my tears. I don’t know how I managed to make it to Cam’s door, but I was in his dorm, being rushed into his room before I realized what was happening. He drew back the covers on his bed and helped me in. My body was quaking with sobs, quiet though they were, I felt as if I were making noise enough to wake his roommates.

I felt his hand gently stroking my hair; he was saying something to me, but I couldn’t quite make it out through the noise my thoughts were making. For quite some time I just lie there, curled into a ball, with him stroking my hair before my body felt heavy and my eyelids began to sag. I tried to fight it, but sleep’s dark tendrils crawled across my vision drawing me into the black.

I woke the next morning to find Cam sleeping on the floor sprawled out like a jumper on the pavement, the blanket he had been using tangled around his feet. His t-shirt was bunched around his chest, exposing his well toned stomach. I had never noticed before just how sculpted he looked; each line was clearly defined on his stomach making his abs look incredible. I sat up, brushing my curls out of my face as the door handle turned slowly. My throat tightened as terror choked me and a sudden rush of adrenaline kicked in. I darted off the bed, hopping over Cam, and hid myself behind the door to his closet. With my hand on my chest I listened as the door creaked open and someone entered the room. I kept my breathing light, despite the urge to pant from the sudden burst of movement as my vision began to be clouded with stars.

“Cam, you really need to learn how to sleep in a bed mate.” I didn’t recognize the voice. It must have been one of Cam’s other roommates. “You’re doing it all wrong.”

The was a chuckle and another voice added, “How’d ya ge’ so fur away frum yer bed, mate?”

Cam groaned and rolled over from what I could see through the crack in the closet door.  “Shuddup. Go away... it’s too early.” he muttered.

“It’s tha same time we go runnin’ every mornin’. Ge’ up ye lazy ting.”

“Fine, get out of my room.” He grumbled, pulling himself into a sitting position, the muscles in his stomach contracting beautifully. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

The door closed and Cam stood up, looking around the room. He pulled his shirt off and made his way to the closet. When he opened the door, he jumped back, startled. I blushed; here I was hiding in Cam’s closet with him half naked in front of me. A smirk crawled across his lips, making his blue eyes sparkle.

“Good morning to you too, beautiful.” he said leaning toward me. “I wondered where you went.”

I drew away from him, “I wasn’t about to be caught by your roommates in your bed.” I whispered.

“You move quickly, that, or they just open the door really slow.” I glared at him. “We’re going out for a run. All my roommates will be gone for the next hour. Shower and get yourself ready. You can wait in the living room. I’ll make sure we don’t lock the door so it doesn’t look suspicious.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead, grabbing a sweatshirt from a shelf and walking back across the room for his shoes. “Don’t come out until you hear the front door close. Wait a couple minutes just to be safe before you shower.”

I nodded and he stepped out of his room, being greeted loudly by a chorus of ‘It’s about time’s then the front door opened and closed. I stepped out of his closet and slowly made my way across his room. I hadn’t noticed all the papers scattered across the floor last night, but it was certainly a cause for mess. I bent down to look at a paper and noticed they were lyrics. Cam writes songs, huh? I looked over the page, reading the words carefully. They were amazing. I would have to ask him to play me one sometime.

Walking into the bathroom I laughed. This was definitely a boy’s bathroom; there were clothes lying on the floor, the counter was a mess and it smelled like way too much cologne. I wrinkled my nose, grabbing a towel off the wall and hanging it over the top of the shower curtain. As I began to peel off my clothes, I remembered the mirror. My chest contracted, tightening in response to the building dread in the back of my mind. Slowly, I turned my head to look at myself over my shoulder. I screamed, nearly falling backward into the shower. The reflection was worse now than it was last night. My whole form had been consumed by a dark mass, red pinpoints where my eyes should be.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Let me love you

Okay, soooooo sorry that this has taken so long to get to you!! I apologize times like... a million. I've been really busy, drama with boys, school, freaking out that I have to wait till Christmas for Doctor Who and until the 5 of freaking January for Vampire Diaries to come back. UGH. It might kill me. It's so hard to have such brilliant shows take breaks at the same time... roughly. Bah. Anyway, the majority of this chapter was written today during church. Want to know what I wrote it on? The back of receipts and some note cards. Yep, I'm that cool. I'm definitely the next J.K. Rowling. Anyway, please please please let me know what you think about this chapter. I threw in some huge character developing curves and I need to know if it worked. I feel like it almost was just thrown in because I needed it to happen, but let me know! Please!!!!!!

Oh, and because I love all of you that read this (just for fun):

Anyway, without further adieu, I give you chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Vance and I had driven out into the country side, and just kept driving. The look in Stitch's eyes when I left had been haunting me throughout the entire drive, grating on the back of my mind, eating at my subconscious. He knew now, there was no denying that. The look on his face was enough to tell me that he knew. What would I do now? Vance probably knew that my secret was out, and would probably have a way to keep Stitch away from me. That was all I needed to know. What Vance's plan was now. He would protect me. He always had.

There was nothing for scenery besides open fields and empty spaces. We drove for what seemed like hours before Vance pulled off onto the side of the road and stopped. He stepped out of his car and walked around the side to let me out. Taking my hand he lead me out into a field and walked me right into the middle of it. Letting go of my hands, he turned around and walked away, telling me to stay in place. Confused but excited, I stood there, waiting for someting to happen when suddenly the dirt next to me exploded. I screamed, jumping away from the crater. As I jumped, another pile of dirt exploded, making me jump back into place.

"Now you try," Vance said with a smirk.

"How, I don't even know what to do!" I called, holding my hands together keeping them from shaking.

He stood and stared at me, a smile on his face. His smile was a cross of a smirk of arrogance, and challenge. My body was shaking now, the adrenaline coursing through my veins was enough to make me dizzy. Thinking about the magic I was about to weild was increadible. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. When I opened my eyes, the world had suddenly become filled with vibrant colors swirling around everything. Gasping, I spun in a circle drinking in the world around me. It was beautiful!

"Vance! What is this? The... everything... it's so colorful!" I yelled excitedly, continuing to spin around.

"That's the ether in the world. It's the magic of the elements and nature around you. Everything has it. It's where we draw our power from." Vance explained,  "You have it, I have it. Ours is just colored differently because we can control the ether around us. Now, in order to do what I did, all you need to do is focus, and will the energy around you to do your bidding." 

Taking another deep breath, I felt the energy bending around me, my skin tingled with the ether from the air, and as I opened my eyes the energy shot away from me, and the dirt in front of Vance exploded with a greater force than his shot at me. A huge smile split my face, amazed that I had actually done it. I started jumping up and down and celebrating with myself, dancing in a circle, and singing about my victory. In the height of my celebration, I turned around to find Vance standing within inches of my body. His hands slipped onto my hips and he stepped forward, pressing his body against mine. His smile was soft as it had been the night before.

"That's my girl," he whispered. "You're amazing, always were." He tapped the end of my nose playfully. "You know, the first time I met you, I was jealous because you were better than me."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You, jealous? Of me?" I snorted, "Seriously? That seems ridiculous. I'm not that good."

"You aren't yet." He winked. "We'll get you there."

I wasn't sure who innitiated it, but suddenly our lips crashed together and a red hot bubble of passion burst forth from some deep place in my soul. His body felt so perfect against mine as if we were two stones cut from the same mountain and molded to fit perfectly within each fold and curve. His arms tightened around me, pulling my body closer to his as if he wished us to merge together into one soul. Our lips danced together in perfect harmony. His lips moved to the corner of my mouth, trailing down my jaw and onto the soft flesh of my neck. I shiverred, reveling in the feeling of his soft lips against my skin. His tongue caressed my collarbone, and his hands slipped under my sweater. His fingertips were cold, drawing goosebumps to my skin. My body shuddered, and he laughed into my neck.

"We can take this somewhere warmer," he suggested, gently sucking at the skin by the base of my neck. "If you'd like."

I nodded absently. He took my hand and lead me excitedly to his car. We could scarcely take two steps before one of us would grab the other and steal a few kisses. When we made it to the car, he threw open the back door and the two of us clamored over each other into the seat. We were like animals, feral and primal, the universe melted away and it was only he and I in existence. I suddenly felt alive. I was aware of my body in ways that I had never been before. Every touch, every movement was heightened; I had been taken to a place beyond human feeling. This was the feel of something more. I had never been more aware of the sensation of a pair of hands against my skin. My would had changed for good and I would never see anything the same. Vance's fingers against my bare skin ignited my flesh with a blazing heat that rushed through my entire body, filling me with power.

The windows of the car had become dense with fog, sheilding us from the outside world. My mind was so focused on Vance that I hardly noticed the radio, which had turned on and was sliding wildly between stations, never dwelling on any one for too long. The volume rose, swelling with the movement of our bodies against each other, dying suddenly. Vance's hands slipped under my sweater, slowly dragging it up my body until he had slipped it over my head. He tossed it haphazzardly into the front seat and his lips went to work, hungrily perusing my skin. My body screamed for him to stop teasing me, but he seemed intent on continuing his game. I took his shirt in fistfulls, yanking it off of him and throwing it into the windsheild.

He smirked against my collarbone. "Easy, love," he murmured, almost purring the words.

"You're such a tease," I whined, playfully tugging at his belt. "I'm starting to think you don't want me anymore."

He smirked, hooking his leg through mine, and in an instant he had rolled me under him and in another mad frenzy he made me his once more.

I can't say how long we were in that car, parked lazily in the middle of a feild, but it hardly felt long enough. The car was hot, sticky, but comfortable. Vance and I lie side by side on the back seat, our bare bodies against each other, his chest against my back, warming my body. I enjoyed his closeness and wished never to leave his side. He and I would be together forever. I would never leave him.

"I should be getting you back." Vance whispered against my hair, his fingers trailing lightly up my bare thigh.

"I don't want to go back." I said, my entire body suddently filling with dread.

I couldn't go back to the school. Stitch would be there; he would be waiting to get me alone because now he knew. The memory of his expression filled my mind. I wasn't strong enough to keep him from over powering me. I had only just begun exploring my powers. I shuddered.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" I asked. "I don't want to go back to the school right now," I swallowed. "Stitch will be there."

He kissed my hair, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I would love to have you, but you need to stay at the school tonight." He said simply. "Cam will be there. He will protect you."

I craned my neck, twisting myself to look at him. "Cam? What can he do to protect me?"

  Vance chuckled, his blue eyes glittering playfully, almost dangerously. "Cam is my apprentice. He has been versed in the ways of our kind for many years now. I have no doubt in my mind that he can protect you against Stitch."

My eyes grew wide, my jaw going slack. "Seriously?"

He just smiled, handing me my shirt. Still processing the information, I put my shirt on mechanically. Vance dressed quickly, being completely dressed before I had managed to get my shirt on completely. He helped me dress, and kissed my temple.

"Are you okay?" He asked, stroking my hair. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Shaking myself out of my daze I smiled and climbed into the front seat. We drove back to the school, his hand constantly on my thigh, saying nothing, but communicating everything. I knew he wouldn't let anything happen to me. He would have Cam protect me. A pleasant shiver ran through my body. When we pulled up to the school there were a few people out front, watching the car like hawks. When Vance got out of the car there was a stir in the croud. He moved fluidly to the door and opened it for me. I slipped out, looking at the crowd. Molly, my jealous life-ruining roommate, stepped forward smiling demurely at Vance.

"I was beginning to wonder when I was going to see you again, darling." She purred. Casting a nasty glance at me, betraying her bedroom eyes, she continued. "I thought you would be one to stay away from the trash on the streets."

Vance's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing dangerously. A wave of pure fear washed over me. In that instant both Molly and I were truly afraid of Vance. His aura had become dark and wild, full of a white hot fury I had never felt before. It was radiating off of him, filling the ether in the air, charging the area with dark energy. I stepped away from him, only slightly, but it was enough that he noticed and the energy vanished instantly. He glanced at me, his eyes were not soft, hurt almost. He turned to Molly, saying pointedly,

"Don't ever address her as trash again," his voice was sharp and painstakingly clear. "Or we will see what trash I come to take out next."

His hand slid around my waist, leading me away from the group and into the building. It seemed that the moment we stepped foot into the building Cam had materialized beside us, constantly two paces behind. I could feel his eyes on my back the entire time. When we stepped onto the elevator, he stood on the opposite side of the car, watching me with lishgly downcast eyes. He followed behind us to the door of my room, and thereVance kissed me, holding me against  holding me against his body. I didn't want it to end, and when he separated himself from me, I clung to his shirt, the invitation to stay waiting on my lips. He smiled, knowing my thoughts and put his finger on my lips.

"I can't stay," he whispered, "I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful.”  He kissed my forehead and began to walk away. “Cam, take care of her, and see that Stitch never gets the chance to be alone with her.”

Cam nodded sharply, and the two of us watched Vance until the elevator doors closed.

“When were you planning on telling me that you were like me?” I demanded.

He glanced at me. “When the time was right, but it seems that Vance already told you,” he walked me inside, leading me straight to my door. “Good night, I’ll be back for you in the morning.”

I sat on the edge of my bed, waiting for Cam to say the words playing on his lips, but he simply nodded and closed the door. With a sigh, I adjusted myself on my bed. The pain was finally starting to catch up to me. The aching muscles, the strain of heavy physical work, the strain on my back. I hadn’t felt this pain for over a year and a half. Remembering the pain brought tears to my eyes. I crossed the room, locked the doors, and went to my dresser. I pulled my diary out of the drawer and crossed the room and sat on my bed. I flipped through the aged and sunworn pages until I came to that tear stained page, crinkled and torn, doctored with tape, and when the tape had run out, a bandaid kept the corner of the page in place. My hands started shaking as I looked at the page. 

October 17,

I’m late. My period is late. It’s been seventeen days since the party. Since Rush and I had sex. It was stupid of us. We were both drunk, and completely out of our minds. It didn’t occur to either of us what we were doing, and now, here I am looking at the consequences. It’s been seventeen days... and I’m late. I stole one of my mom’s pregnancy tests, but I’m too terrified to use it. What if its’s true? What if I am pregant? I’m sixteen years old... way too young to be a mother. And Rush is in no condition to be a father. His addiction to cocane and booze is not good. My addiction is no better. If I’m pregnant, this baby is going to be a crack baby, and I won’t do that to them. It hardly seems fair to do that to a child. What do I do? I can’t tell my mom. She’ll kill me. She already doesn’t trust me since she found out about my cocane stash in the guest house. I’m red. Tell me what to do. I’m not ready for this. It’s not what I want right now. Telling Rush would be catastrophic. He would lose his mind. What do I do?

I felt tears well up in my eyes, threatening to spill over and leave further stains on my page. With a shaking hand I turned the page to the next entry.

October 31,

I finally told my mom. She forced me to take a pregnancy test after noticing that I hadn’t been eating breakfast, and my trips to the bathroom every morning for the last few days. It came back positive. I braced myself for a trainwreck, but instead she sat calmly on the edge of my bed and cradled me in her arms. I cried for hours, pouring everything out onto the table. There would be no more secrets between us. I felt like a toddler again, needing my mom more than ever before. I was absolutely terrified. After I had quieted to nothing more than the occassional wimper, my mom finally spoke.

“When did this happen?” She asked

“Thirty days ago...” I replied.

'""So, the test is right, It’s been long enough.”  Her voice was so calm and even toned I was absolutely terrified. I would have preferred the yelling. “How do you feel?”

I told her how scared I was, how nervous, and cornered I felt. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted it all to go away and wished I could rewid time and go back to change everything that had happened. I didn’t want this baby. I didn’t want it to be born into a place where I couldn’t take care of it. I knew that wasn’t entirely the truth. My family had the mans to care for this child, but that wasn’t the point. I couldn’t stand knowing that I had made the choice to create an unwanted life. And then there was Rush. What was I supposed to tell him? Mom put it in simiple terms.

“Tell him exactly like it is. Don’t sugar coat it. He’s going to be a father, and together you will have to make a descision to either get married and raise this child, or you will give it up for adoption.” She released me, kissing my head and leaving the room. “Call Rush, have his parents over for dinner tomorrow night. This is something we all need to discuss together as well.”

I protested, knowing that Rush’s parents would overreact and make the problem worse than it already was.... I called Rush an hour ago. He is coming over an hour before his parents so the two of us could figure this out and have a moment to ourselves. He sounded hysterical over the phone and I knew this was going to be a long night. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.

I was crying now. Memories of that day came flooding into my mind, and the same fear that gripped me then was holding me captive now. Rush’s parents had arrived under the premise that we were having dinner as good friends. It was partially true. My mom lead the dinner discussion; when she neared the topic of my pregnancy, Rush put his hand on my knee, and together the two of us braced ourselves for the worst. Rush’s father was shocked into complete silence, and I wished his mother had been too. She screamed at Rush, and then at me, for making such a stupid descision regarding our futures. I always knew you alcohol would ruin you. I didn’t say anything because I drank in high school, but this has proved your stupidity. She had screamed. Rush--not one for tears--had a steady stream of water leaking from his eyes throughout the entire conversation. My mother tried to calm Mrs. Nickleson down, but she would have none of it. What do you plan on doing with the child, Laela? She demanded, her eyes boring through me like a knife. I felt like shrinking into my seat, wishing I could disappear and die in a desolate cave. We’re putting it up for adoption. My aunt Lilly is looking to adopt anyway. I replied sheepishly. My mother had thought it a brilliant idea to have my aunt adopt the baby, but apparently Mrs. Nickleson thought otherwise. No, there will be no adoption. You two will live with the consequences of the choice you made. You’ll be married. Again, my mother tried to be the voice of reason, but Mrs. Nickleson had had it. She stood, glared daggers at her husband, and yanked Rush out of his chair, informing us she would be back tomorrow with the proper papers. Rush looked back over his shoulder, his eyes so full of fear it hurt me to look at him, and smiled sadly, mouthing the words, “See you tomorrow,” before his mother yanked him out the door.

Our lives didn’t get any easier. I constantly felt like people were watching me, judging me, even though Rush and I had sworn not to tell a soul. I hadn’t even told Keltie, and she was my best friend. I felt like I was living life in a haze for the next few months, and when it was becoming apparent that I was pregnant, life got harder. People truly were judging me, though I certainly was no the only pregnant girl at the school. I begged my mom to take me out of school until I had the baby, but she insisted that I stay in, and live with the mistake I had made. At the end of my second month, I was showing; I had always been a skinny girl, and that made it quickly obvious that I was pregnant. You could only hide the baby for so long before someone noticed you weren’t getting fat, you were getting round. A month later, my world shattered. 

I was fourteen weeks into my pregnancy, and that day I would hear the seven words that would change my life forever. I had gone with my mother to get an ultrasound, it was supposed to be routine, checking for signs of down syndrome in the baby, but as it turned out, nothing went as planned. Laying with my head tossed back, staring at anything but the screen, I waited as the nurse lathered my stomach with the cold gel. When the doctor came in and ran the monitor over my stomach, his quiet, but sudden intake of breath snapped my head up. His face was grim as he exchanged a knowing look with my mother. She bit her lip, her body quivvering. 

“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked, trying to sit up.

“Laela, I’m so sorry,” she choked, turning her head to cry into her shoulder. 

Bewildered, I stared at the doctor, whose eyes had turned sad. “I’m sorry, but you’ve  experienced a misscarriage.”

My throat closed. NO, my baby... my baby can’t be dead. I couldn’t think straight, tears began cascading down my cheeks. I babbled hysterically for him to check again, that my baby couldn’t be gone. This was a lie. He was lying to me. My baby couldn’t die. He explained that due to my use of drugs, and perhaps my age, my body had not been able to support the embryo, and my body had spontaneously aborted it to protect itself, but I wouldn’t hear a word of it. When my mother and I arrived home I locked myself in my room for days, refusing to come out. My mother had tried to come in, but each time she succeeded, I threw something at her, screaming for her to leave me alone. It wasn’t until Rush came over that I allowed someone into my room. He sat on the bed, holding me to his chest and let me cry for hours, shedding silent tears himself. From that day forward, the two of us shared a bond I could never really explain. It was a bond of complete understanding and trust. Blind trust really. He and I would do anything for each other.

Clearing my head of the memories, my hand went to my stomach.  I could have made the same mistake once again.