Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2

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Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2 Page 2

by Kris Johnston


  I shrugged. “If you say so,” I said.

  She nodded sternly. “I do. So there.”

  And she stuck her tongue out at me.

  That was all it took for me to lose my last bit of awkwardness and fully laugh with my best friend. We hugged one more time and I whispered, “I missed you.”

  “You get a pass,” she said, nodding, “But I missed you too. I’m glad you’re alright.”

  I gripped her tighter as tears came to my eyes. I blinked them away furiously, determined to make this day as positive as I could possibly make it.

  “I’m not,” I admitted. “I’m not alright. I don’t know if I will be, ever again.”

  She gripped me just as tightly as I gripped her.

  “You will be,” she said firmly. “I promise.”

  ***

  Shortly after Will left us to catch up with his friends, Odie thrust her class schedule at me.

  I read it, grinning. She and I had almost all the same classes (thanks to her meticulous planning and texting with Bonnie over the summer break), and she had managed to trade lockers with Andy Pillars, which landed her locker directly next to mine. I couldn't have been more thankful for her friendship than I was in that moment.

  “So we have every class together except for one?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I got your schedule from Bonnie, then my mom made a few calls. Can you believe they were planning on putting me in Ivers’ class? Barf!”

  I giggled. “Hey, he's not a bad teacher.”

  “The man is in his sixties and has chronic B.O.,” Odie said. “Nobody wants his class. Nobody! If the funk from his pits doesn't kill you, the halitosis will!”

  I laughed (silently agreeing), and opened the locker that would be mine for junior year. Everything felt vastly different this morning. Being back in school with Odie was probably the best thing that could've happened. I wanted to kick myself for ever having withdrawn from her. Out of everyone I knew, Odie was the one who had understood my feelings for my love. She'd witnessed when he'd gone into the light. She’d kept my head above water those following days.

  But then, I let myself grieve once summer break had come, and once I'd begun mourning for my lost love, I couldn't seem to stop. Being back at school was almost like waking up finally, after being stuck in a nightmare for months. I suppose getting back into the swing of things was going to be better for my state of mind (and heart), than I'd originally thought.

  I checked the time, wishing the minutes would hurry. I was suddenly anxious for our first class to begin, even though I was enjoying catching up with Odie.

  Then out of nowhere, a feeling came over me. It was something indescribable, striking me hard in that one moment. Slightly giddy, slightly dark, it was like something was speaking to my soul in a language I couldn't understand, and it was absolutely ominous. My hands began to slightly shake as the feeling grew, making me want to flee the hallway and find my class.

  Later, I would fully comprehend what that feeling was.

  Foreboding.

  “Hey, here come The P’s!” Odie said happily.

  I turned, watching my shaking hand as it closed my locker, and turned toward the pastel-colored coven as they approached us.

  “Please stop calling us that!” Erica said absent-mindedly, looking around anxiously.

  They were all dressed alike, once again. Each wore a different pastel color from head to toe, with hairstyles that were pageant-ready.

  But oh, was it good to see them! Despite my sudden, overwhelming feeling of terrible unease, I was happy. Devon, Jess, Belle, Erica, and Cindy were the final missing pieces to make my soul shift again. I didn't notice the furtive glances exchanged between them, or their hurried strides. All I saw was my friends.

  “I see some things never change,” I chuckled as Devon, clad in a soft, blush-pink skirt and matching cardigan, made her way straight for me.

  She grabbed me firmly by the upper arms, startling me, her fearful, brown eyes scanning mine before wrapping me up in a big hug.

  “Don't freak out, okay?” She whispered in my ear.

  I pulled back, looking at her.

  “Freak out about wh-”

  And then I saw him.

  The entire world stopped and fell away.

  Standing barely fifteen feet away from me in the hallway, clear, blue-green eyes staring at me with more intensity than I ever remembered, was Parker Evans, the boy who had tried to steal my soul. The boy who was supposed to be dead

  “No!” I gasped. “No! No!”

  CHAPTER 3

  ~Jimmy~

  I must have stood in the unfamiliar hallway for at least two full minutes, watching her.

  My God, she’s beautiful.

  Knowing the Evans family would expect me to go to school despite my “amnesia,” I had been ready for this moment. I had been thrilled knowing I'd be seeing Roz once again, finally. But I had no idea how hard the impact of being able to look upon her with real, physical eyes would hit me.

  I was no longer a ghost. I was alive. I was breathing. I was living. And I could see everything before me. The entire world had become much more clearer now that I was alive again.

  Before, it was as if I'd been seeing the living world from behind a sheet of gossamer, filmy and unfocused at times. Some parts of the world had been grey before. Some parts had been clouded. But now that I was alive again, the view of the world before me became one hundred percent crystal clear, in real, glorious technicolor.

  Seeing Roz with this new, clear vision of mine was almost my downfall.

  She was breathtaking. She was so amazingly beautiful, and she didn't even know it. The living, beating heart inside this foreign body of mine skidded to a halt when I first glimpsed her.

  She was dressed differently than I'd ever seen before, but she was still beautiful. She was no longer hiding behind that wretched hoodie of hers, and I was thankful for that. It meant she hadn't completely reverted back to the scared, shy girl she'd been six months ago. Her eyes lacked their usual shine, but they were still as blue as ever, maybe more now that I was truly seeing them clearly for the first time.

  Her shoulders had once again found the slight droop they’d worn before the night I saved her from that bastard, Derek. Even then though, her back was straighter than I remembered.

  Despite the dullness to her eyes and the shoulder slump, she was incredible. Her spirit was still there, glimmering beneath the grief I'd caused her when I'd crossed into the light. I could see it. It was there, as clear as anything else I could see now. She just had to find it once more.

  Teenagers passed by me with greetings of, “Hey, you're back!” or “Glad you're better!” or “I thought you died?”

  But I ignored them all. I wasn't Parker Evans. I was Jimmy Matheson, but that's not who they saw. It's not who any of them saw. There would only be one person who could look at me and actually know who I was. I had every expectation that, despite my spirit being stuck here in this jerk’s body, only one person could see me for who I really was.

  And that was Roz, my sweetheart, my Earth Angel.

  And then, just like that, it happened. Devon and the other witches showed up and bam! Roz looked at me.

  She looked at me.

  I stupidly thought once she'd see me, that she'd know I wasn't truly Parker. Somehow, I thought my soul (trapped within this hated body), would be seen by her, of all people. I'd imagined our reunion so many times over the summer that it was almost like a real memory now.

  She'd see me, know instantly who I was beneath this Parker-shell, and run to me. I'd pick her up, swing her around like they did in the old movies, and kiss her until her legs buckled.

  But that's not what happened. Not even close.

  Instead, she saw me as what I was on the outside- the guy who tried to kill her.

  Hearing her soft cries of “No,” tore my heart apart. Odie, Devon, and the others surrounded her, trying to comfort her or maybe shield her from me, but she
kept her eyes on mine.

  And those eyes… those beautiful, crystal blue eyes… were filled with horror. And fear. And hatred… so much hatred…

  For me.

  Tears burned my eyes, making my extra-clear vision fail me. I felt my teeth grind in an attempt to hold myself together and I slowly turned away, but not before hearing her voice scream out shakily, “You're supposed to be dead!”

  Even though I knew she didn't realize who I truly was, it didn’t matter. My living, beating heart shattered anyway.

  ***

  I had spent the summer trying to learn this new, digital world. Although I already knew so much just from spending time (as a ghost), with Roz, it didn't mean I actually knew how to operate a cell phone, or a computer, or even one of those giant, flat television sets.

  Apparently, those were pretty good indications to the Evans family that something wasn't right with me, and they decided I needed a vacation from all things electronic, which was fine with me. I could not comprehend the art of texting at all.

  Anyway, it made sense for them to ban me from the electronics, being that their only son had basically died by electrocution, only to miraculously survive by unknown means. I was happy without electronics. I’d rather read, anyway.

  Parker’s mother, Prudence, watched me the entire summer with a suspicious expression. I tried to be the son she remembered, but I didn't know how. She would painstakingly show me old family photos, hoping to jar her beloved son’s memory, but the struggle to pretend to be someone I wasn't took its toll. The lie hurt too much.

  After asking me about magic spells in the hospital, to which I had no response, she quickly set that topic aside. I had figured she'd let go of the subject, but such was not the case.

  The week before school began, she entered my bedroom, where I sat on the bed reading Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.

  “Parker?” She asked. “Can we speak for a moment?”

  I nodded. I had learned early in this new body and new family that when Prudence Evans spoke, you listened. And heaven help if you talked back.

  I carefully marked my place in the old, yellowed pages and set the book down on the nightstand before looking up at her.

  Her eyes took in the book. “When did you begin reading for pleasure?” She asked mildly.

  I cleared my throat nervously. I had no idea if Parker ever read for enjoyment before, so I went with seemed like the most logical answer.

  “I don’t remember,” I said vaguely. “I just felt like reading. Piper checked it out for me yesterday when she went to the library.”

  She turned questioning eyes to me. “Piper is getting books for you now?” She asked sharply. “Since when have you two done anything for one another?”

  I shrugged. “I don't know. My… amnesia… seems to have messed everything up in my head.”

  Her shrewd eyes met mine. I suppose in some circles she could be considered an attractive, older woman. She was in her late-forties, and with her stern, sharp features, it was hard to see her beauty. When she was relaxed and content, her brown eyes softened and her lips looked fuller, making her appear less harsh. However, since I had made my “ miraculous recovery,” her face was pinched more times than not. The severe bun holding back her light brown hair did nothing to help, either.

  She turned, and began walking around my bedroom slowly, her eyes inspecting everything.

  When I'd been brought here from the hospital, the room itself was in immaculate condition. Clean, beige carpet covered the floor. Pale, blue walls and neutral furnishings lined the room. Bookshelves and nightstands and a desk each had their place.

  Since I felt like an intruder in this home, I took it upon myself to keep the room as clean as it'd been since the day I first entered it. I never left dirty socks on the floor. I never left the room without making the bed. I was hoping to show my respect for this family with my careful tidiness, even if I could not show them my love.

  Prudence, however, saw right through it.

  “Let's cut to the chase, shall we?” She suddenly announced, spinning to face me.

  “Uh, sure,” I replied, not having any idea where this was headed.

  I sat nervously on the edge of the bed and watched as she approached me, bringing her face down so it was eye level with my own.

  “I know you are not my son.”

  Chapter 4

  ~Jimmy~

  The revelation from Mrs. Evans was stunning. I had no idea I'd failed that badly in my attempt to acclimate into a family and world that was foreign to me. I stared at her in shock, at a loss for any type of conciliation that could possibly ease the pain for her. Not only had she lost her child, but she knew the one before her in his place was nothing more than an imposter.

  But how to explain it to someone who'd already suffered such a loss, when you don’t even understand what caused all of this, yourself?

  “Before you hurt yourself trying to come up with some phony story,” she said snidely, “let me assure you I am well aware of what Parker was up to with the necromancy spells.”

  My eyes must have grown larger at her words, because she chuckled. She actually chuckled.

  And then I remembered my time in the hospital, waking up in Parker’s body to her demands of working magic. Of course, The Evanses had to be a family of witches, and I had been unaware.

  Prudence strolled leisurely around the bedroom, her shrewd eyes locking with mine every few seconds as she spoke.

  “It was my idea for Parker to use the Pastrano girl.”

  Another stunning revelation. This woman, this monster, was the brains behind Parker’s attempt at stealing my girlfriend’s spirit?

  “He needed to show the coven he was powerful,” she continued, “And of course when Parker mentioned her- broken, hopeless, fueled with rage just below the surface- I knew she'd be a perfect candidate for necromancy. Her spirit would only need a tiny nudge and it would leave her body willingly.”

  She stopped in front of the large dresser mirror and admired her reflection, smoothing her hair into place.

  “Of course, I never counted on her falling in love. And with, of all things, a ghost!”

  She laughed and turned to face me.

  I rose slowly from my perch on the bed and faced her, the blood draining from my face.

  No, not my face.

  Parker’s face.

  “Yes, yes,” she acknowledged, “You're Jimmy, the wonderful ghost boyfriend of the girl whose body was supposed to be used to help raise one of our fallen sisters. Yes, I know exactly who you are.”

  She approached me like a predator, stalking me slowly, eyes latched onto mine. She never stopped until she was directly in front of me, only a breath away from touching me.

  “I'm going to let you in on a secret, Jimmy,” she whispered. “My coven banished me years ago, and only accepted my children into the fold because of Agnes, my mentor. Parker was going to be my way back into the coven, and then you ruined it when you went into the light. That action alone allowed you to be reborn in his body, just like what he was trying to do with Rosalind. And so, because of that, you are going to do every single thing I tell you.”

  I swallowed.

  “And if I don't?” I found the nerve to ask.

  “If you don't,” she answered unflinchingly, “Your girlfriend will be given to the men in my former coven as a gift, to do exactly as they wish with her.”

  She grinned wickedly as I fought the urge to throw up.

  “Rosalind is quite beautiful with her dark hair and lush curves. She would make a perfect gift for a group of powerful, angry men. They might even allow me back in, just for my act of thoughtfulness alone.”

  I shook my head and begged her, “No, please, I'll do anything, my life is nothing compared to protecting Roz.”

  Her face grew sober and stern.

  “Understand this: You are inside a magically powerful body. That body still has its magic within it. You will learn how to bring
that magic forward, and how to manipulate it. You will do everything I say. And then, when you're ready, we will reclaim my rightful place within the coven.”

  I thought of Roz, Odie, and their friends, the good witches, and a thought occurred to me.

  “If you want to be a part of a coven, why not join the one Roz is friends with? Why go through all this trouble to go back into a coven that rejected and banned you?”

  She looked at me and stared hard.

  “Because I am a Dark witch, and those teenage girls are not. Their coven knows nothing of the power available to them, because they choose to practice light magic. And believe me Jimmy, the Dark will never mix with the Light.”

  I nodded slowly, trying to understand this new world of flesh and power.

  “So what about Mr. Evans?” I asked awkwardly, “Which magic does he practice?”

  Prudence raised an eyebrow at me.

  “My husband knows nothing of witchcraft. He has no idea of what I am, or what Parker was. It would be in your best interest to keep it that way.”

  She walked to the nightstand and placed what I recognized as Parker’s cell phone upon it. “You will keep this with you at all times,” she ordered. “I like to keep tabs on my children.”

  With that, she strode proudly from the room. With my new, heightened vision, I could see something that looked like dark, diabolical smoke slithering around her long legs as she left.

  I collapsed on the bed and wondered where I would go from here.

  ***

  Now, I was sitting miserably in my first period class on the first day of school trying to forget the memory of Mrs. Evans and her threatening words, and doing my best to pay attention to all the shapes and figures on the board before me. Everything around me seemed so loud. So bright.

  And where the hell was a regular, black chalkboard?

  The large, glaring white rectangle before me that the teacher was writing upon in blue marker was as much of a foreign object as any of the electronic devices my classmates were constantly pulling out and looking at.

 

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