Seeing Shadows (Shadow Series #1)

by S. H. Kolee

  His eyes narrowed. "Why are you fighting this? We're attracted to each other. Isn't that enough? And don't bother trying to tell me you're not. I see the way you look at me."

  "I don't look at you in any way!" I said indignantly, ignoring my conscience at the lie. I took a deep breath to calm myself. "Simon, like I said, I'm really flattered. But I don't have room for a relationship in my life right now. I'm happy the way things are. We're friends. Can't we keep it that way?"

  Simon's face darkened. Although I had seen the light and fun parts of him, I was beginning to see that he had a darker side as well. I had the fleeting thought that one wouldn't be smart to cross him. "We're not friends, Caitlin. What I feel towards you isn't friendly. It's way beyond that. Don't deny this."

  "Simon," I said pleadingly. "Please don't make this awkward. The last thing I want is for things to be weird between us. But I just can't right now."

  "Why not?" he bit out impatiently.

  Because I'm crazy. Because I'm afraid the visions are back to stay. Because I don't want to see your beautiful face in agony in my dreams. And I'm afraid that if I'm with you, I'll have to witness that again and again.

  "Caitlin," Simon said shortly when I didn't answer. "I said why not."

  I scrambled for an answer that would placate him. To make him return to that easy camaraderie that I had relished earlier. "I just-I'm not," I stammered, wanting to look away from his piercing gaze but feeling transfixed. "There are things that you don't know about me. I'm messed up."

  I was getting dangerously close to the truth and that terrified me more than anything. The compulsion I had to tell Simon things that I had never shared with anyone except Sarah scared me. So I lied, knowing that my next words would ruin any possibility between us. But that's why I chose them. "I'm in love with somebody else."

  Simon abruptly straightened and his expression turned glacial, his eyes pinning me to my chair with disbelief. "What the fuck?" His curse jolted me. He had been so playful and gentle before that the vulgarness startled me. "No way. There is no way in hell you're panting after some other guy. Not with the way you look at me."

  I swallowed, determined to carry out the lie. "It's true, Simon. I'm sorry. I...I won't deny that there's an attraction between us. But nothing can come of it."

  "Who?"

  "Huh? Who what?" I asked stupidly.

  "Who are you in love with?" Simon exhaled harshly. "Who is it?"

  "He-uh...he doesn't go to this school. I mean, he's not a college student. He's older," I lied, my mind whirring as I tried to think up an imaginary love. I had thought Simon would have dropped it after I had told him I was in love with someone else, but now he was doggedly pursuing details. I wasn't the best liar, despite masking so much of myself to others. That was just omitting. This was actively lying. "I met him last summer in Philly."

  "So why aren't you together?"

  "Who says we're not together?"

  "Grant. He said you weren't seeing anyone. He would know, wouldn't he? Your group is pretty tight. I can't imagine that you would have a boyfriend without him knowing."

  I felt a little disjointed by the fact that Simon had been talking to Grant about my love life.

  "We're waiting until I graduate. We decided it was too hard to have a long distance relationship." A part of me marveled at the lies dropping from my mouth. Maybe I wasn't such a terrible liar after all.

  "So let me get this straight," Simon bit out. "You're in love with this guy. But he fucking lets you go because of distance?" He said this last part incredulously. "He lets you go so any asshole could come and snatch you away. But you're in love with him. He sounds like a fucking idiot."

  My heart started pounding, not sure what to make of this side of Simon. Even though I felt apprehension at his harsh words and expression, I also felt myself getting aroused by his intensity. I must really be going crazy. But I had to admit that some girl would be lucky to call him her own. Simon would never let anything get in the way of someone he loved. My stomach clenched at the thought that it would be someone other than me.

  "Simon, please," I said, placing my hand on his clenched fist resting on his lap. "Please don't make this awkward. I really do value you as a friend. Even though we've only known each other for a week, I've shared more with you about myself than anyone else besides Sarah. Please don't make it impossible for us to be friends." I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. It was true. Even though I couldn't have Simon romantically, I still wanted him as a friend. Maybe if the connection between us was casual, it wouldn't bring the visions rushing back at night. I was willing to chance it, even if I couldn't chance a romance. Especially since, if necessary, it would be easier to extricate myself from a friendship than a relationship.

  Simon exhaled noisily but I felt a switch happen in him. His intensity faded and his expression softened. "Okay, Caitlin. We'll play it your way. We're friends." His expression hardened slightly. "Don't expect me to put myself out there again for you. You change your mind, you need to come to me. If I'm available."

  My heart shattered a little at this, but I deserved it. I gave Simon a small half-smile. "Deal."

  He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Janice finally came back with the beers and Grant started joking about whether Janice had been brewing the beer in the back since it had taken so long, to which Janice smacked him on the back of his head and the whole table laughed. Simon joined the conversation and I breathed in deeply, relieved to not have his attention focused on me. No one seemed to notice our conversation except for Sarah, who was looking at me with an arched brow.

  Later, I mouthed. I first had to get through tonight.

  **********

  Despite my fears, the rest of the night passed by without further incident, except the broken heart I was nursing. Fans were constantly coming up to the table to talk to the band, which was a welcome distraction. Simon spent the rest of the night treating me like a friend, paying me no more attention than anyone else. In fact, it seemed as if he paid less attention to me than anyone else. And when Samantha came up to the table, he gave her far more attention than I was happy with. But I was in no position to complain after the conversation that had transpired between us.

  Encouraged by Simon's receptiveness, Samantha had boldly sat on his lap since there were no other seats available at the table. When Simon hadn't pushed her off, I had felt a little sick. It worsened when Samantha glanced over at me with a triumphant smile.

  As I stared miserably at the table, I felt someone grab my hand and I looked up.

  "Come on," Sarah said. "We're going to the bathroom."

  I followed Sarah glumly but instead of pulling me in line for the bathroom, she led me to a dark corner that was hidden from our table.

  "Spill," she demanded. "What the hell is going on? Why do you look like someone ran over your dog?"

  "I don't have a dog," I said dejectedly, knowing it was an inane response. Sarah simply raised her eyebrows and waited.

  I sighed, relenting. "Simon told me he was interested in me and I told him I wasn't. So we've decided to be friends."

  "Caitlin," Sarah said impatiently. "Why are you doing this to yourself? This could be good for you. You've never had a real relationship since I've known you. I know you're afraid to let someone get close to you, but Simon is a great guy. Grant's told me a lot about him and he's someone you can trust."

  Sarah seemed undeterred from championing Simon so I decided to tell her the truth, because I knew it was the only way she would understand why I was refusing him. A noisy bar seemed like the worst place to tell her, but everyone was so involved in drinking and having a good time, we might as well have been alone.

  "They're back," I said, staring at the ground.

  Sarah breathed in sharply. She knew instantly what I was talking about. "When?" she asked urgently. "When did they start again?"

  "This past summer," I whispered."

  "Why didn't you tell me before, Caitlin?" Sarah asked, soun
ding pained. "You've been suffering all this time and you didn't even tell me! Don't you trust me?"

  I looked up at Sarah's anguished eyes. This is why I hadn't wanted to tell her. Because I knew she felt my pain deeply as if it were her own, and I wanted to save her from that. But now there was no going back.

  "I didn't think I had to, Sarah," I rushed to explain. "And of course I trust you. It's just - I only had a couple this past summer, and only one since school started. I was hoping that I wouldn't have any more."

  "And have you?"

  "No, not since the one I had right after school started."

  Sarah looked hopeful. "So maybe you won't have them again. We can have a great senior year. That's no reason to reject Simon."

  I took a deep breath and released it slowly. "The vision that I had at the beginning of school...he was in it."

  Sarah's jaw dropped as she stared at me. "Oh no," she whispered. She closed her eyes, breathed, and opened them again. "No wonder you acted so weird when you first met him." She shook her head. "I can't believe I didn't realize it. I just thought you were acting weird because you thought he was hot." She gave a small sad laugh.

  I put my hand on Sarah's arm. "It's not your fault for not realizing it. I was trying to hide it. I should have told you. I'm sorry."

  "I'm sorry," Sarah countered. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this shit." She paused. "How many visions have you had of him?"

  "Just one. And I want to keep it that way. I can handle having him as a friend, but I'm afraid if we take it any further, I'll start having the dreams again. You know the more contact I have with a person, the more visions I have of them."

  "But if you've only had that one vision before you met him, but you haven't had any after...doesn't that mean something?"

  I shook my head. "It means I've been lucky. I just don't want to chance it. And how can I have a relationship with Simon when I've seen him die? It would hurt too much to have the vision again if we were dating."

  "What happened in the-" Sarah started, but I shook my head.

  "I can't, Sarah. I can't talk about it." I had shared some of my past visions with Sarah, but I couldn't share Simon's. I was afraid that if I said it out loud, I would have the vision again. Or worse, that it would come true. That fear was irrational since as far as I knew, none of the subjects in my visions had met the fate I had envisioned for them. But I didn't want to take any chances. Especially with Simon.

  "Oh, Caitlin," Sarah sighed sadly, pulling me into a hug. I rested my head on her shoulder, comforted by the fact that I could be totally honest with her again. "We'll get through this together. I understand now why you've been pushing Simon away. It sucks, but I understand."

  I pulled back, remembering my lie. "If Simon asks, I'm in love with some guy I met last summer in Philly."

  "What!?" shrieked Sarah. "What are you talking about?"

  I grimaced. "He wouldn't take no for an answer so I had to make up some guy that I was in love with. We're waiting until I graduate to be together."

  "Caitlin," Sarah warned, shaking her head. "This could get messy."

  "Sarah," I pleaded. "It was the only way I could get him to back off. Please. It's hard enough as it is."

  "You know I'll always back you up," Sarah said, "Even if I don't agree with your methods." She sighed. "I'll go along with your story, for as long as you want me to."

  I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

  Sarah studied me. "Do you want to get out of here? I think the last thing you need is witnessing Samantha slut herself over Simon."

  I laughed at Sarah's choice of words. "Absolutely. I think I hear a pint of Ben & Jerry's calling me."

  "You got it."

  We walked back to the table to see that Samantha was gone, but I still felt the need to flee.

  "Hey guys," Sarah announced. "I've got a killer headache. Caitlin and I are going to head back."

  Grant stood up from his chair. "That sucks. I'll walk you guys back."

  Sarah shook her head. "No, it's okay. You stay here. It's just a short walk and it's not that late." Grant looked at Sarah in confusion. He wasn't used to her refusing his company. But Sarah placed my well-being above the attentions of Grant.

  "Oh no," exclaimed Jenny in disappointment. "Maybe I should go too."

  Sarah shook her head again. "I don't want to ruin your fun, Jenny. We'll call you tomorrow." She glanced at Marcus. "Just make sure she gets home okay."

  Marcus smiled. "Always."

  "Well," Jenny said reluctantly. "Okay." She looked over at Marcus and her expression cleared. It seemed as if she was enjoying the attentions of Marcus and didn't want the night to end.

  "Bye guys," I said, not looking in Simon's direction. It would kill me to see his lack of interest at my departure. "Again, great show. See you later."

  After we exchanged goodbyes, Sarah and I collected our coats from coat check and walked home, where we indulged in ice cream and watched reruns of terrible sitcoms. It was exactly what I needed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Her chest heaved in pain as she struggled to draw in breaths of air as she ran as fast as she could down the path. The crunching of footsteps on the gravel as she was pursued relentlessly was like a primal drumbeat, filling my ears along with the gasps of her breath.

  Run, I screamed inside my head. Run!!

  She was going to make it. She had to make it. I willed her to make it, trying to give her my breaths through sheer power of will.

  She glanced behind her, her face twisted in horror as if she was looking at the face of pure evil. I wanted to scream at her to not waste any precious time or energy looking behind her, but I knew it would fall on deaf ears.

  She ran fast, but her pursuer was still in chase, their strides almost becoming synchronized. I couldn't see who was hunting her, but I could hear their ragged breaths and footsteps alongside hers.

  Just as I thought there might be a chance, she tripped over a branch on the path, falling face forward with her arms outstretched to break her fall. She turned around, propelling herself with her hands and legs like she was a crab, scrambling back as her pursuer approached her.

  I first saw the hands raise in the air, then I saw the flat piece of plywood swing down, cracking heavily on her head. She screamed as rivulets of blood started pouring down her face where she had been hit.

  "Please!" she cried, holding her hands above her head, attempting to shield herself. "Please! I don't understand! I don't understand what's happening!! Who are you?? How-"

  Her plea was cut off as the piece of plywood lifted and ruthlessly came down again, slamming against her head.

  She groaned and crumpled so she lay completely prone, semi-conscious. Her face was covered with blood, her once blonde hair now a crimson red. A pool of blood was rapidly growing by her head. I wailed as I saw the piece of plywood lift and come crashing down on her again and again, past the point of where the life had left her body. As if the attacker was enraged, wanting to ensure that any chance of life was eradicated.

  The attacker dropped the piece of plywood next to her body and then there was nothing but silence.

  I struggled to surface, praying to break free from this grisly vision. "Please," I begged, not sure who I was pleading to. "Please."

  I woke up with a gasp, tears streaming down my face. I rolled to my side and started sobbing, trying to erase the brutal images from my mind. This was one of the worst. All my visions were violent, but the worst ones showed a brutal killing. This had been one of the more detailed ones. I could see the pain and fear glazing over her grey eyes. I was desperate to help but in my visions I felt as if I was trapped in an invisible box, immobilized, where no one could hear my screams and warnings, but I was privy to every grunt and whimper of pain. It was like watching a horrific movie that I didn't know how to turn off.

  I struggled to catch my breath, my pillow beneath me soaked with my tears. The luminescent glow of my alarm clock showed
that it was three-thirty in the morning. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths, holding them for ten counts and then exhaling slowly. Regulating my breath helped to slow down my racing heart.

  When the feeling of suffocation had passed, I sat up, swinging my legs onto the cold wooden floor, and walked to the bathroom. I flicked on the light and looked at myself, wincing as my puffy red eyes stared back at me. I felt a helpless fury rise in me. Why? Why were they coming back? It seemed cruel after the reprieve of last year. It had given me the false hope that I could live a normal life.

  I ran cold water from the tap and washed my face. There was no way I was going to be able to go back to sleep now. I knew the moment I closed my eyes I would see her anguished face.

  I padded softly to the living room, not wanting to wake Sarah, and turned on the TV with the sound barely audible. I channel surfed until I found an infomercial for a pasta maker. I had spent many restless nights watching infomercials, unable to go back to sleep after a vision. It had gotten to the point where there were no infomercials that I hadn't seen so I would watch the same ones over and over again. There was something comforting about the canned responses, the staged oohs and aahs from the crowd as they showed the latest invention on how to hard boil an egg, sharpen knives, or make a smoothie in under twenty seconds. There were no surprises in infomercials. All the reactions were planned and everyone's world was made happy by the solutions the inventions provided. To the people in the infomercials, life was complete now that they could store twenty coats under their bed in a vacuum sealed container.

  I stared at the demonstrator cranking out pasta from the machine's extruder, thinking about the aftermath of the vision. Now I would be on edge, knowing that I would see the girl in my vision in real life. It could be tomorrow, it could be a month from now. But it was inevitable. I wondered if she was a student at Maxwell. She had looked about my age.

  I shook my head, trying not to obsess about where I would meet her. I could drive myself crazy trying to guess how and when it would happen. The frequency of my visions before I met the actual person varied drastically. I could just have one vision before I met them, like Simon, or I could see the vision multiple times before I met them.