Rest in Peace Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 1

by Kris Johnston

  He glanced at her.

  “You’re right,” he said happily, “It doesn’t! Do you remember, Rosalind, the last time you saw Jimmy in the flesh? The last time he was in your bedroom and you shared a kiss so passionate, so out of control that it made your entire body react in ways it never had before?”

  I stared at him. I remembered Jimmy so vividly saying he was being controlled as I watched his face change into something else for the briefest of moments. I remembered Jimmy ordering me to run, to get away, that he couldn’t fight off whatever was happening to him, and then the kiss. The lips that had been so familiar to me which had suddenly felt different.

  And yes, I shamefully admitted to myself. It had been a kiss unlike anything else I’d ever known.

  “That wasn’t Jimmy,” I whispered, horrified. “That was you.”

  He grinned.

  CHAPTER 38

  I had to get out, to get away from them all. I couldn’t face anyone, not even Odie.

  I leapt from the cafeteria and ran.

  I had no idea where I was going, and I doubt if it mattered. I just needed to run. To run as fast as my legs could carry me and breathe as hard as my lungs could work and feel my heart race as fast as it would pump.

  I needed to punish myself.

  The truth was there, it was all out there for everyone closest to me to see.

  I had kissed Parker. And I’d liked it. I’d responded to it. To him. I felt the danger there, lurking just beneath his kiss, and the innermost parts of me wanted to be consumed by it.

  By his danger.

  By his madness.

  I’d known during that kiss in my bed that it wasn’t Jimmy. I couldn’t lie to myself about it anymore. I had known it was someone else inside his body controlling him, and I had also known who it was. Sure, maybe not in my brain. My brain was stupid, full of denial over the most obvious of things. But in my soul, I’d known it was really Parker the whole time.

  Oh, I was a disgusting human being.

  I ran through the campus, ignoring the shouts of The Pastels behind me, and kept going. I ran through the P.E. gate, exiting the campus, but I didn’t run home. I didn’t even think of where I was running to, I just ran. But in the end, it didn’t matter how hard I pushed myself, I still couldn’t escape the terrible truth.

  Eventually, my body had enough and I was forced to slow down. It was then that I realized where I was.

  Our local cemetery.

  ***

  I strolled through the gates, taking deep, long breaths, and walked. I didn’t know anyone who was buried here, no famous people like James Dean, no relatives to speak of, but it didn’t matter to me. I soon found a tombstone that stood taller than most of the ones surrounding it, and sat down in the cool grass. I gave a salute to the occupant of the grave, a Mister Leonard Graves, who, according to the inscription, met his demise in 1944. I leaned my back against the smooth, hard granite.

  I took a long look around me and placed my elbows on my knees. The cemetery was lush and green, filled with trees and quaint little benches here and there. The sky was blue, the air was mild, and it was a perfectly lovely day.

  Why then, was I filled with such gloom?

  My friends wouldn’t ostracize me for having unwittingly made out with Parker. Would they? It was so confusing that morning, Jimmy telling me to go, yet being so freaking sexy I couldn’t have left him, even if I’d tried.

  But then again, it hadn’t been Jimmy. It had Parker, all along.

  Parker had forced himself into Jimmy’s body, and kissed me.

  But you knew it wasn’t Jimmy and you still kissed him back, my Inner Roz argued.

  “Shut up,” I muttered, sickened to my core.

  “But I haven’t even said anything yet!”

  I jumped, startled but not surprised to see him directly behind the tombstone I was leaning on.

  “Haven’t you caused my life enough grief?” I said sharply. “Go away, Parker!”

  He didn’t. He came around and took a seat next to me, leaning against the stone just as I was doing.

  “I know you hate me,” he said quietly, looking around the cemetery before him. “And I don’t blame you. But, Rosalind,” his voice grew soft, almost tender, as he spoke my name, “You have to know there’s something between us. Stop denying it.”

  “Never,” I said angrily. “I love Jimmy. He’s the only one in my heart.”

  “He may own your heart,” Parker said in agreement, “But your body responded to me. You can’t refute that.”

  “I can and I will.”

  He chuckled. “So stubborn,” he said. “Remember the dream when Agnes came for you, and led you to my orchard?”

  I looked at him quizzically. It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged one of my dreams or brought them up, without me forcing it. Eyebrows raised, I nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

  “You willingly gave me your blood in that dream. You walked to the altar, took the dagger, sliced open your hand, and gave me your blood. That, my dear,” he said darkly, “Is proof that, although I may not own your heart… I do, indeed, own your body.”

  “You most certainly do not!” I shouted, standing angrily and turning to walk away.

  “Stop,” he said quietly.

  It was just one small, quiet word, yet I obeyed.

  He came to stand in front of me where I stood, waiting. He reached out, lifting a lock of my hair and feeling it between his fingers.

  “If your body doesn’t belong to me,” he said, “Then prove it. Walk away, right now, and I’ll remove the spell from Jimmy.”

  I tried. Lord knows, I tried. I raised my foot to step away, but it didn’t listen to me. It stayed there, frozen to the ground.

  “You’re spelling me,” I said harshly. “That can’t possibly be considered fair.”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “You’re free to go if you wish, Rosalind,” he stepped closer, “I’m not spelling you to stay here.”

  I gasped and tried to make my body move, but it wouldn’t. A hot tear burned in my eye as I fought with myself to move away from the jerk, but to no avail.

  “Then why can’t I move?” I asked in a whisper.

  He leaned in closer, closer, and whispered in my ear, “Because your body knows I’m its master.”

  Then he turned and walked away, leaving me to stand there alone in the cemetery, crying softly amongst the graves of the deceased.

  ***

  I fell into a depression following that event at the cemetery. I was sad, angry, I couldn’t face anyone, I just wanted to be left completely alone.

  The only place where I could find any solace was on the back deck of the house, where I was working on my art project.

  Upon that stone slab, I was able to transfer all my darkness, all my hostility and rage, and turn it into something beautiful. The images upon it were a mishmash of everything which had happened to me in my short life, an opus of it all, if you will. And even though it was frightening and evil and scary and dark, there was a terrifying beauty to it. I absolutely fell in love with what I was creating, even if the inspiration for it came from my most darkest of days.

  Bonnie came to me as I was working, and took a seat on the swing where she could still see what I was working on and look out to the back yard at the same time.

  “Wow,” she said in astonishment. “You do dark really well.”

  I nodded, accepting her praise. “Thanks. I sort of never had a choice about it.”

  She smiled. “I hear you. When you’re inspired to do a specific piece or theme, it takes over completely.”

  “That’s exactly right,” I said.

  She fell silent for a long moment, then spoke once more.

  “The funeral for Drew’s mother will be Saturday, in case you wanted to go. I thought it’d be nice if we did, to show our support and love for Drew.”

  “Yeah, absolutely,” I agreed. “I’ll be there.”

  “Isn’t the
Spring Art Fling the weekend after that?” She asked.

  I did a quick tally of the days in my head. She was right. The Art Fling was only a week and a half away.

  “I’ll be finished with this in another day or two,” I said quietly, “So it’ll have plenty of time to dry by then.”

  “Just keep the tarp up and around it, so the bugs don’t fly into it and get stuck in the paint,” she chuckled.

  “If they did, I guess they’d become a part of the art,” I said.

  She smiled and nodded. “I’ve got something for you, Roz,” she said suddenly.

  I glanced at her in question, and she pointed to the table which had become my work station. It was covered with all my paints, brushes, oils, and rags, and there was one more thing sitting there which hadn’t been moments ago.

  A brand new cell phone, still in the box. It was the exact one all my friends were talking about.

  “Bonnie!” I exclaimed, shocked. “Why did you? How? What?”

  I was so stunned I couldn’t manage a proper question.

  She laughed.

  “I was waiting for our family plan to upgrade,” she said, “Otherwise I would have gotten you one sooner.”

  “But you didn’t have to get me one,” I said quietly, still shocked. I picked up the box and turned it over in my hands. “I’m part of your family plan?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Because of that, you have a new number,” she said apologetically, “But the guy at the store said this is the latest model everyone has been going nuts for, so since it was time to upgrade my phone, I upgraded yours, too.”

  I laughed softly, “Anything is an upgrade since I didn’t have a phone anymore.”

  She nodded, “True, but I wasn’t going to see you try to mess with a flip phone, God forbid.”

  I set my palette down and went to her, giving her a giant hug to convey my happiness and gratitude.

  “Thank you so much, Bonnie,” I said warmly. “I hope the state pays you guys enough for

  everything you do for me.”

  She stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

  “Juanita told me you would get paid from the state for fostering me,” I explained, “I hope what they give you covers everything you’ve done for me… that’s all,” I shrugged.

  She looked at me for a long moment, then crooked her finger.

  “Come with me,” she said.

  I followed her into the house, through the living room, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. As opposed to the rest of the colorful house, her and Mitch had done their private sanctuary in muted colors of dark grey and white. It was a stunning bedroom with a giant king sized bed, very modern, and a sharp contrast to the complete “hippie” look everywhere else in the house. Bonnie had explained to me once that, since she’d decorated the rest of the house, the bedroom is where she allowed Mitch to decorate however he wanted. She had taken him shopping, and he had pointed at things he’d liked. That’s how they had decorated the space.

  The result was fabulous.

  She led me to the dark grey desk which sat in the corner of the room, and looked through the drawers for a moment before finding what she sought. She pulled out what looked like a checkbook, or a register from the bank, and handed it to me.

  “Look inside there,” she said.

  I opened it and my mouth fell open.

  On the first line, she had written, College savings for Rosalind Ines Pastrano.

  Beneath that, she had entries for each month I had lived in her home: February, March, and April. Following each month was a dollar amount and a new total.

  “I’m putting your state checks into an account for your college,” she said softly. “I didn’t even know if you wanted to go to college someday, but with this, you’ll have the option to.”

  I stared at the dollar amount until the tears made my vision blur.

  “I haven’t received your check for May yet,” she said quietly, “Otherwise that would be there, too.”

  “So,” I said in quiet astonishment, “Everything that you guys have done for me has been out of your own pocket?”

  “You’re a part of our family, Roz,” she said in explanation.

  The tears grew hotter and hotter until they could no longer be contained. Even my own mother had never had a savings for me. My mother hadn’t provided anything for me out of her own money. Anything I’d ever gotten for myself had been purchased with what I’d made babysitting.

  And now, I had an actual college savings fund.

  I’d never considered college before because I knew it was an unattainable goal. And now, it was in my grasp. It was not only attainable, it was possible.

  It was too much. The darkness in me, the constant ache of missing Jimmy, the fear of the unknown with Parker, and now this... it was all too much to be held in any longer.

  I fell into her arms, sobbing my heart out.

  “Thank you,” I cried over and over again as she held me and allowed my emotions to spill out all over her. “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER 39

  That night, I texted Odie from my new, awesome, sexy phone.

  Me: Bonnie got me a new phone! Wait til you see it!

  Odie: Since you mentioned Bonnie, but failed to mention who this is, I’m assuming it’s my bestie?

  Me: LOL you assume correctly. How’d you do that? Are you psychic? You must be a witch.

  Odie: Do NOT talk about anything magic! I’m so sick of all that crap! And where’d you disappear to today? The P’s were all over my junk after you took off at lunch.

  Me: What are the P’s? And I thought only dudes had junk, not chicks.

  Odie: The Pastels. And hellooooo dork, it’s an expression.

  Me: Meh, I just had to get out of there. Too much truth in one day made it impossible for me to live in denial.

  Odie: Parker that good of a kisser, eh?

  Me: You have no idea. :(

  Odie: Maybe we can use that to our advantage.

  Me: How do you mean?

  Odie: It means me and The P’s came up with a plan. We’ll fill you in later.

  Me: If it has anything to do with me using my body to gain the upperhand with Parker, it’s no use. He sort of proved that today.

  Odie: How so?

  Me: Basically, whatever he commands of me, I’ll do, even if my head tells the rest of me NO.

  Odie: Seriously?

  Me: Seriously.

  Odie: Like I said, maybe we can use that to our advantage.

  Me: Excellent. Catch you tomorrow.

  Odie: Sweet dreams!

  Ha! Sweet dreams! She was a hoot!

  I anticipated any dreams I’d have that night to be anything other than sweet. The fact that my dreams were somehow real made me wonder, with all the magic flowing in and out of my life, if I was something supernatural, or simply a pawn in everyone else’s game.

  A pawn, said my Inner Roz, most definitely.

  I ignored her and went to bed, setting the alarm on my amazing new phone instead of the digital clock that sat on my nightstand.

  And sure enough, that night, the dreams bombarded me.

  One moment I was looking down at my sleeping self in a sort of out-of-body-experience, and the next I was floating away, up through the ceiling and roof, out to the open sky. I floated up, up, farther and farther into the heavens and stars, until I came to rest upon a cloud.

  Angelina descended out of the dark night sky and sat beside me, and together we looked upon the lights of the city below us.

  “You will soon be faced with a choice, Sister,” she said, “And when you are, follow your heart.”

  I nodded even though I had no idea what she was talking about, and then I was floating away from her, softly coming down out of the sky, floating across neighborhoods and streets and fields, until I hovered above a house I’d never seen before. I went gently down, passing through the roof and ceiling until I landed softly in a bed. A strange bed with an occupant sleeping in it. I could
n’t see who it was because it was so dark, but the instant I landed atop the soft, downy covers, a pair of arms wrapped around me, snuggling.

  “Rosalind,” the sleeping form whispered groggily, “I knew you’d find me.”

  Parker.

  I didn’t struggle against his naked chest as he held me close. I just laid there, limp in his arms. I knew this was a dream, and I wished Jimmy was around so he could wake me up, but until the dream moved on from this portion of it, there was nothing I could do.

  So, nothing is what I did.

  His breathing evened out, and the feel of the air as it exhaled from his nostrils into my hair did strange things to my stomach. His arms twitched around me several times, as if he were making sure, in his unconscious state, that I was still there.

  Eventually, my eyes adjusted to the blackness of his bedroom, and I was able to see him better. In sleep, he looked so peaceful and devastatingly handsome, it was almost breathtaking. How could someone who looked like him be so full of evilness? And why, why did he have to use that evil on me? I had never done anything to hurt him. Why was I the one he came after?

  “If there’s any good in you,” I whispered, “you won’t hurt me.” He exhaled a long sigh and kissed the top of my head in his sleep. There’s good in you, isn't there, Parker? I think there is.”

  I hoped so. But deep down, I already knew he couldn’t fight the darkness in him anymore than I could fight mine. And that was why he wanted me... because I was so open to the darkness of the human condition, it made me an easy target for him and his necromancy spell. In order to progress, he had to transfer a deceased soul into a living body, and that was me.

  Once he did that, I would no longer exist.

  And that was the thing that made no sense to me. He acted like he wanted me in the biblical sense, the way a young man wants a young woman. He wouldn’t continue to want me if I no longer existed. If he truly wanted me, in the way that seemed so obvious to me, then why would he want to end me?

  Unless…

  Unless he didn’t truly want me. Perhaps it was just my body he wanted. In which case, it wouldn’t matter who was living inside of it. He wanted my body to obey him so he could perform the spell, and maybe transfer a more obedient spirit into it.