"Whoa...stalker alert. That's really stalkery man, you know that?"
The man waved him aside as the beers arrived.
"Thank you" he said, flashing her what he hoped was a winning smile. She smiled back politely, and went to respond to another patron.
"Why were you smiling so much? That's just weird. Are you tryna drive her away?" the friend asked and shook his head.
"I'll talk to her the next time she comes our way" the first man boasted, taking a swig of his beer
"Well, here's your chance lover boy" his friend replied as the bartender approached them.
"Anything else I can get you boys?" She asked, smiling
The first man faltered slightly, then he smiled and replied,
"Of course, you can help your name and number"
His friend groaned beside him, putting his head on the bar.
The waitress giggled slightly and shook her head,
"Nice try bud.."
The man sighed.
"But I can tell you my name though" She said smiling and the man's eye widened with renewed hope and she laughed out loud at his expression.
High above in the clouds, Gaia stared down at her daughter. She was satisfied that she had made the right call. She'd seen the look on her face. She'd been too overwhelmed by grief and even though she'd tried to reintegrate into celestial society and continue her life, she just couldn't. They'd only had one choice. She'd thought about it endlessly, considering the various possibilities and scenarios and it had seemed like the best thing she could do.
All of Ariel's life she'd tried to be a good mother to her and guide her the best way she could despite the darkness that had been placed inside her by her own father, and for a while, she'd done good. The only mistake she'd made was not telling her everything. That had been her mistake and now, she had to do something to save the situation. Right her wrong.
The witches had assured her that erasing her memories and stripping her of her powers was the best thing as there was no other known cure for the kind of depression Ariel was sure to face. The ritual had been successful and they'd put her in the one place where she was sure not to be reminded of who she was. Gaia smiled.
Back at the bar, the man was still staring at the hot bartender, was she really going to tell him her name?
She looked from him to his friend and smiled,
"I'm Ariel"
The man sighed dramatically, closing his eyes and opening them.
"Wow, that's a beautiful name." he said, nudging his friend slightly.
Across the club, a figure sat in the corner, watching the trio discuss.
Jason sipped his beer, grimacing slightly. After so many years, he still didn't care much for the stuff. But he had to blend in, and at least, he could stomach the taste of beer as opposed to the other things humans drank.
He was happy for Ariel, she seemed happy. But he couldn't help the feeling of sadness in his chest. He pushed it aside.
Gaia had sent him down to protect her. He watched her smile with the two men and took another sip of his beer. He was going to make sure no harm came to her.
It was the least he could do.
Secrets of the mind
Secrets book 1
Prologue
Naked autumn trees line my path like beacons showing the way. My breath rises in visible puffs that swirl around me before fading into the clouded night sky. The icy wind whistles through the air pinching at my skin with its chilly fingertips.
The night air brings crispness to the fallen leaves bejeweled with sparkling frost. They crunch loudly under my feet, the sound echoing around me. The distant hooting of an owl makes my skin crawl and add to the dire situation I now find myself in. The smell of death lingers in the air like rotting meat left in the sun, causing my stomach to churn and burn.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest like a drum the rhythm fast and unsteady, the sound vibrating in my ears. Cold sweat drips from my head, brought on by anxiety as my nerves take complete control. I can't move.
Six men, all wearing black cloaks surround me. Their silhouettes make black shadows against the dark and gloomy backdrop. Only their eyes are visible. They begin to circle me like lions; studying me, waiting for the right moment to pounce on their prey.
Red eyes, glowing like embers, lock onto me. Hatred and anger radiate like sharp daggers cutting deep into my soul.
I recoil. A woman with raven black hair and sharp blue eyes steps out of a cluster of trees. Her arms wrap around me tightly like a warm comforting blanket protecting me from the evil darkness and cold that permeates all around us.
The men begin to chant cult-like, slowly at first. Then becoming more urgent as their voices rise and become louder with each word uttered word. Their heads tilt back to stare at the midnight sky.
Fire leaps from the ground making us stumble backwards in surprise. The glowing embers jump and twirl in a fiery dance, crackling and hissing their own deadly tune, showing their colors: red, orange, blue and yellow flickering brightly, lighting up the pitch black sky. The fire melts and burns the ground. The dry autumn leaves shrivel up until nothing remains.
Giant flames rise into the air circling us like the fires of hell. Thick plumes of smoke fill the crisp clean air. The smell of burning wood and soil hangs heavily on my lungs and makes it difficult to breathe.
My eyes burn in their sockets. They itch as my vision blurs. A lump rises in my throat. It cuts off more of my air supply. I take deep gulps. My chest burns with each breath I take. Stabbing pains attack my lungs, forcing me to my knees. My whole body twitches and jolts. An unpleasant warmth creeps over me eating at my stomach. Pain, worse than being branded by a white hot branding iron, sears through my abdomen. Heat rushes through my veins as if my blood is on fire. I feel as if I am burning within.
Chapter 1- Kayla
I bolt upright, my hands wrapping around my throat. I feel as if I am choking. Deep hacking coughs rake my body.
I can smell smoke and charred wood. It smells like a raging bonfire has been lit in my room. My eyes dart around frantically. Everything seems in order. I take deep breaths. My over-active mind begins to calm down.
The evidence of the latest nightmare fades away leaving my nerves a tangled mess.
Just another dream, I reassure myself. They feel so lifelike, so real, that each dream is unsettling.
I have been having nightmares for as long as I can remember. They used to just come every now and then. But now my mind won't let me rest. Now they come every night and leave their evidence behind.
Dark circles seem to be a constant feature of them. A tell-tale sign that sleep is non-existent. Every night I fear what lies in wait for me. I fight sleep as much as I can; only sleeping when my eyes are so heavy they are like lead weights forcing my eyes closed. Then terror takes hold. Each night I am surrounded by monsters. Each time a mysterious woman is there protecting me.
The woman is constantly changing. Her hair and eyes change color with every new dream. The fierce and determined look on her face always remains the same though. She is always ready to fight and to protect me. I call her my guardian angel, my light within the nightmares.
The sound of music blares into my mind. The sound forces me out of the nightmare and back to reality.
Grabbing my phone, I answer the call groggily. My voice is hoarse and my throat is parched, as if I have not had a drink for days.
"You're late," Misty blurts out from the other end of the line.
Drat, I had completely forgotten. We are supposed to go shopping today for a party next weekend. A party that does not sound appealing to me; a group of teenagers getting drunk and then sticking their tongues down each other's throats is not my idea of fun. According to Misty though it is the party of the year.
However, she uses that line for every party and event. As she begs and pleads with me to go. Using her big bright blue eyes like puppy dog eyes until I relent.
Misty is my best friend. She moved to
Acampo California two years ago. Why anyone would want to move here is unknown to me. We have a measly population of seven hundred and seventy-six and have no water in the area, not even a duck pond.
She broke down my walls and tossed my invisible shield away.
"Don't get your panties in a twist, Misty" I snap down the phone. "I have other business to attend to besides yours." I sigh as I unfairly take my frustration out on her.
"Oh yeah, and what exactly is that then? Getting your beauty sleep?" I can just imagine her doing her famous eye roll while placing her hand on her hip like a bratty child. Misty knows me well. She never takes anything to heart.
"Okay, give me half an hour and I'll be there."
"I have a family engagement this afternoon so half an hour tops." She laughs as the line goes dead.
Rummaging through my wardrobe I settle for a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a teal tank top. I quickly run a brush through my tangled rat's nest of hair until my light blond hair falls into spiral ringlets that reach the small of my back. Grabbing my black bag, I throw it over my shoulder and bolt downstairs, taking the steps two at a time.
"Good morning, honey," Clara sings, fixing her clear hazel eyes on me.
The sweet smell of toasted waffles causes my stomach to growl like an animal eagerly awaiting its meal. I take the offered plate of hot waffles and begin hungrily devouring them.
"Did you have another nightmare, sweetheart?" She studies me closely, probably taking in the dark circles under my eyes that are a dead giveaway. Worry flashes through her eyes making her pupils dilate for a second.
Clara constantly worries about my nightmares and at times, demands I see a doctor or a shrink. All they do is prescribe me sleeping pills which trap me in my nightmares even more. I hate those pills with a passion.
All they do is cover my brain with a thick fog and make my body refuse to respond to my pleas. I will myself to wake up to get away from the demons that surround me. The drugs are stronger than the terror that unfolds around me, so I lay there still and motionless.
***
Clara and David are my foster parents. I have been with them since I was eight. My real Mom had been drunk when she lost control of her car. We rolled down an embankment and crashed into a large oak tree. Mom died instantly.
Clara and David stopped when they saw the wreckage. They had been on their way back from visiting relatives out of town. David is a paramedic so his need to help people took control.
They found me wandering the woods a few feet away. I was lost and alone and confused. I was covered in deep scratches and bruises.My left wrist was broken in three places and I'd suffered a nasty bump to the head. The doctors believed that the head wound caused my amnesia. They said I was lucky to be alive.
When I first came to live with Clara and David, a shrink came to see me. He helped me with ways to deal with my loss. The problem was that I could not remember anything about any of it. In those few weeks I did not speak. I was scared. The shrink believed that not talking was my way of dealing with the trauma. Once I felt comfortable I started to talk, and to ask questions. The doctors believed that I had short term memory loss. I'm seventeen now and I still have no memory of my childhood.
My past is all a blur. Like a wet painting with all the colors merging into one destroying what once was. I don't remember my Mom, her face, her smile or even her name. I can't remember anything from before that night. The only thing I know about my childhood is my name, Kayla.
The events just after that time are also still clouded.
My past is a mystery, a jigsaw waiting to be put together. But first I need to find the pieces of that jigsaw.
Headaches plague me whenever I try to reach my memories. A dark door blocks my path. No matter how hard I try I can't break through it. I need to find the key. There is a burning desire within me that runs deep within my soul; I need answers, to find out who I truly am and where I come from. I need to fill this hole in my heart.
"Yeah, it wasn't as bad this time," I lie shrugging it off and fixing my gaze elsewhere. Clara gives me a look. She has an uncanny knack for knowing when someone is lying.
"I'm late meeting Misty. Can you drop me off at the mall please?" I ask sweetly, placing my empty plate into the sink and hopefully diverting her attention elsewhere. The nightmares are bad enough but talking about them just brings forth the fear and helplessness.
I don't drive. I have taken Drivers Ed just like all my peers. The problem was, every time I sat in the driver's seat panic would take control of me and I'd start to hyperventilate. My skin became hot like I had a fever. After a handful of times of this happening I gave up.
I don't know why driving scares me. I am fine in the passenger's seat. Clara believes it is from my subconscious, after all, my Mom died behind the wheel.
"Sure, I have to run to the courthouse for some paperwork I need to do anyway." Clara says. Clara, works as an assistant to a judge. She always dresses smartly in different colored blouses even on her days off. Her pencil skirts show off her long, toned legs. Her auburn hair is perfectly straight with not a strand out of place. It hangs just to the top of her shoulders, making her heart-shaped face stand out.
Chapter 2- Kayla
Upon seeing me approach, Misty jumps off the bench where she had previously been perched. Her long brown hair sways with a rapid motion and her face lights up with a cheerful smile. Her light brown eyes sparkle with excitement. Her small and delicate facial features stand out making her look childlike.
"Finally!" she screeches, linking her arm through mine and guiding us through the door and into the throng of shoppers. The mall is a blur of people all speaking at once, their words mingling together. People's coats rustle like autumn leaves, tapping shoes echo on the tiled floor as everyone goes about their daily business.
"Let the shopping begin! Have you got anything in mind? We want something hot for the party." Misty's excitement shines through her voice like the sun breaking through the clouds, her words fast, only just recognizable. "I was thinking black hot pants and a red corset with my black knee-high leather boots." I grin at her.
"The boots would definitely make you look like a whore." It was only Misty that could come out with something like that.
The boots are fine, the corset and hot pants, a no. I would not be seen dead in that outfit.
I cannot help but laugh, which sets Misty off laughing. She can be a bit ditsy sometimes. She should have definitely been the blond one.
"I was thinking we both should wear a dress, you know, show off our legs." With hope in her musical voice, Misty grins. She has great legs, long and slender, well-toned. She is like a supermodel. Being the definition of beautiful, she can pull anything off.
I, on the other hand, am a few inches smaller and wearing a dress is something I do only when forced. The idea of showing too much skin makes me feel uncomfortable.
Misty and I are different in every way. Misty is not only beautiful but she is the life and soul of every party we attend. With her outgoing and bubbly personality, people flock towards her. I, on the other hand am more quiet and reserved.
"If you want to wear a dress, then go for it. Just leave me out of it," I warn, adding authority to my voice.
An hour later, Misty coaxes me into buying a mint green dress. The shoulders and chest area have a see through mesh that joins onto the thick fabric that hugs my breasts and hips before flowing out and stopping just before the knees. When I twirl in the dress the fabric dances in the air like waves. She then picks out a pair of white-heeled sandals and a white matching bag to finish off the look. I love the dress as it makes me feel beautiful but wearing it in public is a different matter.
Misty picks out a ruby red bodycon dress that hugs her in all the right places. She picks up black sandals with a large heel and a matching bag.
How she is going to walk in those heels is anyone's guess.
The outfit makes her look older in a sophisticated way.
&
nbsp; "We are both going to look so hot Saturday night," she gushes, bouncing on her heels.
I don't want to look hot, more like invisible.
"I just have to make a quick stop before we head home." Misty points in the direction of a shop that personalizes and engraves items.
"Okay, I just need to pick up a book from the bookstore, so I'll meet you at the bus station in about fifteen," I suggest, killing two birds with one stone.
The smell of old, musty books fill my lungs as I step over the threshold. I want to purchase a book on the meanings of dreams to try to get some insight into why I keep having these recurring nightmares.
***
The store is eerily quiet, not a person in sight. The quietness is unsettling after the thunderous noise of shoppers, setting my nerves on edge. Quickly, I find the section I am looking for and begin scanning the shelves.
"Hidden Meaning of Dreams" stands out. Grabbing the book, I spin around, wanting to get out as fast as possible. My nerves are uncontrollably tingling with anticipation, causing fear to rise from its hidden depths. Unease creeps through my pores. The reason is unclear. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle in anticipation, like the strange feeling you get when someone is watching you.
"Argh!" I find myself face-to-face with a pale, sickly looking old man, his face riddled with wrinkles like dried up fruit. His faded green eyes bore into mine. I place a hand over my heart, prompting the crazy rhythm to regulate.
"Can I help you?" he asks. His voice is sharp and clear, not what I am expecting from someone his age.
Sidestepping, I tell the old man - who is standing way too close, "No thank you, I found what I was looking for."
I head towards the counter. The man slowly approaches; his body haggard and hunched, his clothes ill-fitted and hanging off him.
Angels and Magic Page 17