Chapter Two
Present Day
“I can't believe you shanghaied us to here.” I twisted my auburn hair nervously around my hand while glaring out the window. I didn't want to look at my parents. I didn't want to see the 'look' they'd share. The one that said they were getting tired of hearing me complain. Yes, I was complaining. Majorly. But this was a big change. With everything else that had been going on in my life lately, you'd think I'd deserved the right to bitch a little bit.
Streaming sunlight illuminated the red tint in my dark tresses with strands of gold gleaming sporadically throughout. Trees flew past the window, causing a dizzying display of browns and greens. Even though the passing scenery was beautiful, it didn’t compete with my overwhelming depression and fear. Not to mention the confusion. It's pretty bad when you don't even know who you are anymore.
“Seriously mom, we could be headed straight into a den of inbred serial killers. Haven't you seen Wrong Turn? There could be ‘cannibalistic mountain men’ lurking everywhere!”
I switched my gaze from the passing scenery to my mother’s reflection in the rear view mirror. Eleanor, my mother, was the epitome of perfection, both physically and person-ably. Her long strawberry blonde hair was cut to frame her fairy like face, enhancing her slightly angled violet eyes. They were captivating and so clear they made my own violet-gray eyes appear murky, dull. Her eyes were sparkling with irritation. I knew mine fared no better.
“Star, we've been over this a million times. There are no mutant freaks, 'cannibalistic mountain men', or deranged serial killers here. I wish you'd quit watching so many scary movies.”
“Hey, I did my research. Ten horror movies are based in Virginia.” I slouched in my seat, feeling petulant.
“Let me guess, Google?” she looked over to my dad for help. My dad, Paul, wasn't very good with the whole parenting thing. He was always too much fun to ever be serious. Even now, when I felt like my world was going to implode and I'd be left in a million pieces, he still wasn't serious. He looked up through the windshield, searching the sky like he was seeking divine intervention. I hoped that if he received any that he'd send some my way. I could totally use it.
“I like being informed. Besides, they have to be based off of some semblance of the truth. People don't just get ideas out of thin air. There are way too many similarities between movies and books to argue otherwise.”
“They're movies Star, not reality. There's as much of a chance of you being eaten or murdered in California as there is here.” Dad added in, trying to be helpful. He failed miserably.
I straightened at his comment. His baby blue eyes sparkled with mirth. I didn't find it funny at all. “Gee, thanks Dad. I feel so much better about my chances of survival.” I may love horror movies, but I'm actually a big chicken when it comes to anything even remotely scary.
“Glad to help keep you informed.” He said, grinning.
“You're not helping.” Mom whispered loudly at him with an elegant eye roll. That was one thing about my mother. No matter what she did, it always looked elegant. She could stand in the streets wearing a clown costume while doing the chicken dance and people would applaud her and say how graceful she was. I didn’t inherit that ability. Compared to her, I was as graceful as a lopsided elephant.
“Well it's the truth. We could have moved to Florida and faced flesh eating bath salt zombies instead. But, hey, I'd rather face the possibility of ‘cannibalistic mountain men’ over zombies any day. There's more of a survival rate that way.” He shrugged and turned his full attention back to the twisting road ahead of us.
I couldn’t believe we were actually on our way to Shiloh, a no name town smack dab on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. Three days ago, we were in L.A., surrounded by the familiar comfort of concrete and an overwhelming population. Now, we were surrounded by nature. I shuddered at the thought of all the different creepy crawlies I’d end up encountering.
I didn’t mind insects. I could look at them with no problem, even point out different types. But there was a big difference between looking at them from a safe distance to actually encountering them. I paled as I pictured waking up to a spider staring at me. I wasn’t much for physical fitness, but if a bug got near me I’d sprint faster than an Olympic gold medalist. Insects were just one of the things that marred living in the country.
“Mom, can we please just—”
“Star, we've been over this a million times. You know why we're moving here. I just wish you'd accept it and make the best of it.”
I could feel my anger building up. I bit my lip, attempting to keep the bitterness in. Getting into a fight wouldn't help my situation any, and we've been getting into to many lately. I hated it. I hated the fighting. I hated hurting my parents. I hated feeling so out of control.
Mom did one of those heavy sigh things that only mothers know how to do. Like their kid is the equivalent of the weight of the world on their shoulders. “Look, I know that this move is hard on you. You're seventeen, emotional, and being thrown into a new environment that you're not familiar with. But you have to understand that this is a good thing for our family, especially with everything that's been going on these past couple of months.”
“Mom, please don't start this again—” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off a headache. I knew all of their reasons. I had them memorized by now. I just couldn't understand how they didn't see that moving me across the country wasn't going to fix my problems. If it was that easy, I'd happily move across the world to do it.
“We're just worried about you, pumpkin. It seems like bad luck has been following you around lately and figured we could all use a change of scenery after this last incident.” The ‘incident’, as my parent’s referred to it, flashed to the forefront of my mind. I cringed in remembrance. The smell of burning flesh still haunted me. I could hear the echoing screams of agony in my head. I didn't think the nightmares would ever go away, and I didn't know if I wanted them too. I felt guilty. Supremely guilty. But I couldn't have had anything to do with what happened. I couldn't have been the one to do it. Even to contemplate it was ten types of crazy. I just didn't want to go there, although I thought I might be half way there already.
“I know. You both think this is for the best, that I need a chance to get away from all the gossip, to start over. But this is my life. I know you don't believe me, but I had nothing to do with what happened to Rebecca.” Even to myself it sounded like a lie.
She sighed and rested her head back against her seat. I could almost feel the weariness coming off of her. “We've already said that we believe you didn't have anything to do with it. But we're not worried about our own opinions. For God's sake Starlette, LAPD almost arrested you! I don't know why you had to go and say you wished Rebecca would catch on fire, because she did. Though no one knows exactly how that happened—”
“I didn’t say that exactly. I only said—”
“Regardless of how you worded it, the 'threat' was enough for them to make you a person of interest. We will not have you living with that over your head.” Too late for that. “We will not have people staring at you like you're some kind of deranged pyromaniac!” They already do. “So you just better get used to Shiloh, because this is our home now!”
With every word, her voice got louder until she was almost screeching. She was breathing heavily by the time she turned to look at me. I knew my eyes were huge. Mom never yells. Never. “Geez Mom, that one was a long time coming.” And it was. Mom had been so calm about everything that I was beginning to feel like I was adopted. My own emotions had become so out of control that I was relieved to discover that my perfect mother could snap too. Even if it did hurt to know that it was because of me.
“Star, one of these days, humor and sarcasm won’t be enough to solve every situation, even if temporarily.”
I relaxed against my seat and tuned my gaze back to the window. “I know mom— I know.”
“Then
why do you keep fighting us on this?” she looked at me pleadingly, begging to understand.
I debated on whether or not to speak. I was tentative about saying anything that would give away what was really going through my mind. It would just take one slip for my parents to think that I was losing it. “I just want to have a say in something. Everything's changing so fast that I feel like I've been left behind. Like my life is spinning out of control and I don't have a say in the matter. I just want to have some control.”
Her eyes began to water. I didn't think I could deal with her crying. “Pumpkin, I know—”
“No mom, you don't,” I hissed, feeling my volatile emotions shift within me, my anger swiftly pushing to the front. “You don’t know how I feel, you don't know what it's like, and you don't understand what I'm going through. Just give it a rest already and quit treating me like I'm a child with a booboo you need to kiss!” I almost slapped my hand over my own mouth. I paled then immediately flushed with regret over my outburst and the wounded puppy look my mother now wore. The guilt intensified, taking over where the flare of anger resided. I may be sarcastic, but I had never been outright rude or mean to my mother.
My head slammed into the window as Dad turned too fast in his seat, jerking the steering wheel in the process. “Shit!” he turned back to the road, barely missed driving off the cliff, and straight down the sheer drop off of the mountains. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel and shot daggers at me through the rear view mirror. I shrank back from how angry he looked. This was new to me. My dad had never been outright angry with me. “Starlette, I don't care how 'emotional' you are right now! You do not talk to your mother that way!”
“Dad, I don't even know where it came from!” God my head hurt and yelling wasn't helping anything. Neither was the anger that was back in full force. I swallowed, trying to push it down.
“Paul, she didn't mean—”
“Mom! I don't need a savior! Would you just stay—”
“Starlette! Do not talk to your mother—”
“Enough! I've had enough of both of you! Paul, you need to quit switching from being a friend to a parental figure, it doesn't work that way. Starlette, you need to mind your father and watch your attitude. I really don't care for either of your attitudes at the moment, so both of you just need to shut the hell up!” My father and I were both shocked into silence.
I knew Mom was stressed, but I didn't know she was that stressed. It's a good thing to get your frustrations out, and I was happy to see that I wasn't the only one that snapped in my family. Although I'd bet my entire savings that Mom wasn't surprised at all that she snapped. Me? I'm always surprised.
A heavy silence descended upon the car, so I turned my gaze to the town coming up. We finally made it through the mountains without driving off a cliff and dying in a fiery explosion. I was extremely happy about that.
The buildings were made of authentic brownstone with brightly painted awnings and shutters, creating differences between the stores that lined both sides of the street. I could see what looked like apartments above the main floors. I wondered who would ever live above a store, but then reminded myself that this was Shiloh. There were probably inbred families living there, all happily squished together.
A break between buildings sent sunlight streaming straight into my eyes. When I felt like my pupils weren't going to shrivel up and cause permanent blindness, I caught sight of a brightly painted sign, The Nook. What made the sign stand out amongst all the quaint brownstone wasn't the rendition of Pop Art sign, with brightly used colors proudly stating The Nook, but also the hordes of people meandering in and out of the store. I couldn't see much with the sunlight reflecting off of the stores windows. I swear the whole side of it was made of glass. I started to feel like a vampire caught in the sun. Maybe I should start hissing.
I looked forward again, figuring that staring at the vehicles we slowly passed would be a hell of a lot better than becoming blinded by trying to figure out what the store was. With my luck, it was probably a porn shop. It would figure that the only thing that attracted my attention would be a peep show. That's how awesome my life had become.
“Dad, why have I seen at least thirteen different states license plates?”
I could almost feel him rolling his eyes. “The Blue Ridge Mountains are a big tourist attraction for nature lovers. There's hiking galore up here, along with nature trails, bird watching, and camping. People come from all over to spend their summers out here getting rusticated.”
I blinked slowly at him, trying to imagine people actually paying to get ‘rusticated’. I couldn't fathom it. Really, I couldn't. Sure I understood that some people loved to go hiking and enjoyed being in nature, but I never understood those types of people. Yes, nature was pretty, but I just wasn't the type that would enjoy becoming 'rusticated'. I shook my head and turned my gaze away.
“You could at least try to take an interest in what Shiloh has to offer.” He stated bitterly.
“Like that will ever happen.” I whispered under her breath.
“What?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” My innocent, deer in headlights look was totally lost on him. I needed to work on that if I was ever going to be as good as my mother.
“You said something.”
“When?”
“Just a second ago.”
“Oh, What?”
“You said something— just a second ago, what was it.” Traces of anger starting to flush his neck.
“What.”
“God damn it, Star! What did you say a second ago!?” he slammed the steering wheel which caused the car to jerk again. I placed my palm against the window, not wanting a repeat of my head embracing the glass. I really wish he would quit doing that.
“What!” I nearly shouted now, trying hard to hold back a grin. My mother, on the other hand, couldn't quite hold back her laughter.
“What?” he asked her harshly.
“Exactly!” I threw my arms up in my excitement. Mom's laughter rang throughout the car, making me feel warm and fuzzy. She had that ability. With just one smile she could brighten my day. When she laughed, it's like being embraced by a giant, fluffy unicorn. Dad rolled his eyes at us and turned to concentrate broodily on driving. Mom turned in her seat and gave me a wink, her violet eyes alight with laughter. I smirked in return, then turned back to the view, feeling better than I had in ages.
I could feel a frown forming as I tried to remember the last time I was truly happy. Sure, I was amused often, and occasionally I got those warm happy feelings. But I couldn't remember the last time that happiness actually stayed, or wasn't underlined with fear. I know that as you get older happiness isn't as easy to come by, but I'm seventeen, not thirty-five. You'd think it would be a couple of years until my happiness started to dissipate.
It seemed like everything started to fade after my sixteenth birthday. Like I woke up and found a darkness in me, a side I never knew existed. All of a sudden I was just getting pissed off for no reason. Sometimes I could control it, but more and more it seems like it’s beginning to control me, which scares the hell out of me. That's why I call it my darkness. It's all-consuming, bleak. It feels like it's spreading inside of me. Like an obsidian poison working through my system. Devouring who I am. Who I was. That's what scares me the most. I'm forgetting who I am and becoming something, but I don't know what that something is.
Dad's grumble snapped me out of my bleak thoughts. “We’re almost out of town.”
“Oh, man! Don’t tell me I blinked and I missed it!” I couldn’t help but bait him. I picked my iPod back up as dad started to argue with himself. He always argued with himself. I don't think he ever won the arguments either. It eased my mind to see that even through all this madness and self-doubt that Dad was still mainly the same. I would hate it if the darkness in me began to change my family. I couldn't help but fear that in time, everything would change.
I smirked as his arguing int
ensified. “Let me know who wins.” I half yelled, turning up the volume of the music before he could respond.
Chapter Three
It took thirty minutes to get from town to the driveway. I knew for a fact it took thirty minutes because the timer on my phone was blinking at me with those horrifying numbers. However good I may have felt thirty minutes ago faded with each passing second it took us to travel to our new 'home'. My parents, of course, weren't horrified about that fact at all. No, they were too busy chatting about the merits of living in the country. A chill raced down my spine as I looked at the surrounding woods.
I couldn't help the sigh of relief as the car finally pulled to a stop. I was beyond sore at this point. We were on the road for days on end, with very few stops along the way. My muscles were stiff from being in such a cramped position for so long. Sure, our car was nice whenever we went to town or on small trips, but I doubted a cloud would feel good after a couple of days on the road. I was lucky I wasn't surrounded by our belongings during the trip. I would have started a rebellion if I had been.
I stretched, trying to work out as many muscle cramps as I could while watching the moving company we hired work their way through the trucks.
I braced myself. I didn't know what type of house we'd be moving into and was afraid that it would be some type of log home or ancient farm house. When my parents bought it they refused to show me a picture or to even describe it. They said they wanted me to be surprised. I hated surprises. I turned toward the house and felt my breath leave me in a giant whoosh.
It was beautiful. A cobblestone path led up to the large front door with decorative shrubs on either side. Large multi paned window reflected the late evening rays back at me, causing my eyes to water slightly. The two story house was made of a soft rose colored brick. The color should have made it look extremely feminine, but the sharp angles of the roof cast stateliness to its appeal. Almost masculine in its sharpness, balancing out the feminine details.
The Prophecy Page 2