by M. R. Polish
The door was ajar, so I kicked it with my foot, letting it hit against the wall. The vibration from the old doorstopper echoed through the upstairs.
Releasing the breath I held, the first inhale shocked me. I wasn’t prepared to smell the scent of flowers from my mom’s favorite TLC perfume. The small, half-full, purple bottle still rested on the counter. With my back against the wall, I sank to the floor. I no longer remembered my cuts. I tried to breathe, but all I got were racking sobs that shook from my chest. It was so hard to know I wouldn’t see her again. Standing up, I wiped my tears with the back of my good hand.
Turning the water on, I prepared myself for the pain, centering my hands under the running water. Nothing hurt.
“What the heck?” My mouth fell open as I watched the water drain clear. The blood was gone. I flipped my hand over and examined it. No scrapes, cuts, or even sparkles of glass remained.
Confused, I stared at it. Nothing was wrong with my hand. I remember seeing the blood and glass. I could still feel the phantom pain. How was this possible? I braced myself against the counter with my hip, letting it help support my body. I wasn’t sure how to explain what happened.
Too much stress caused delusions. Right?
Maybe I should have taken Ailaina up on her offer to go away with her and her parents to Australia for the week. The funeral and my mom’s death was too much for my mind to take. I cringed. There was no way I could miss her funeral. Besides, my dad needed me, but it didn’t keep me from wishing my friend was with me. She always made everything seem easier—guiding me in the right paths.
I shook it all off and ran my hands under the water once more, splashing my face and neck to cool my skin. A heavy feeling dropped into the pit of my stomach. I could feel time slipping away too fast. It was almost time to leave. The sun was already lower in the sky. It wouldn’t be long before the days would be dark by four in the afternoon. My dad wanted a late afternoon graveside service, but I didn’t have the strength to argue about it with him. Who cared what time we put her in the ground, it wouldn’t change things—it wasn’t like waiting could bring her back.
Rushing downstairs, I stopped so fast I nearly tripped. The broom and dustpan still lay on the floor. I braced myself against the wall with my healed hand. There was still blood on the glass. Strange.
The roar of the car engine and a honk outside shook me from my daze. I didn’t have a car yet, and with Ailaina gone, my dad was my ride to the cemetery.
I left the kitchen without looking back at the mess that would have to wait for later to clean, and dashed to the front door. The crisp October air blasted my flushed skin making me shiver as I shut the door behind me. It got this cold when snow was close. Maybe this year we’d get a foot or two. I wrapped my sweater around me tighter, hoping to keep the chill from freezing my body. In late fall, Northeastern Nevada was usually cold, but this afternoon seemed even more frigid than usual.
My dad waited for me in his silver BMW tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. I opened the passenger side door and sat down, closing the door in one motion.
Both of us sat in silence as he drove. I bit my cheek to keep from talking about something neither of us wanted to speak about—mom.
Again, my eyes filled with tears against my wishes, and I pressed my lips together trying to keep them at bay. I became oblivious to the world around me as I stared at the dashboard trying to find a focal point. It disturbed me to look up and see the cemetery as we got near.
It sat on a hill next to the only high school in our little town. Tall trees outlined the fence around it, giving shade and some protection from the sometimes-harsh winds.
My heart raced so fast I thought it would explode. I stifled a whimper inside my throat as my airways constricted, and held my breath, not wanting to cry in front of my dad anymore. Holding my hands over my face, I tried to hide the pain, but nothing could stop what I felt. I gasped for air, and the tears took advantage of my small momentary lapse in control and fell.
Dad parked along the side of the road, and then opened the door. Before getting out, he reached over and gave my leg a quick pat. “It’ll be okay, kiddo.” He hesitated, but then got out of the car, leaving me there alone.
It was hard to believe him. Nothing was okay today. Taking another deep breath, I prepared myself for the inevitable. Lifting my head, I gazed out the windshield.
A handful of people arrived early to come say their final goodbyes to my mom. Many of the faces I didn't recognize. A couple nurses still wore scrubs from their shifts at the hospital, and I spotted a Bishop from one of the local churches. I assumed it was out of respect that he came since we seldom attended church growing up. And when we did, I got the impression it was more for an impression to the townspeople than for us.
The black suits and dresses blurred together. The cream-colored coffin was the only thing I could see clearly as I blinked my tears back. It sat in the middle of the small crowd. Pink roses draped over the top—her favorite.
I sat up straighter, holding my breath once again to stop the tears. Grabbing the handle, I forced myself to open the door. Once I was sure I could stand without the support of the car, I closed it. I spotted my dad greeting people and shaking hands with the bishop. He stopped to glance over his shoulder at me. His look pleaded for me to come and stand with him. I forced a fake smile for him, but it didn’t last long. The whole scene in front of me seemed surreal.
The grass was stiff and crunched as I walked. The scent of dry autumn leaves smelled cold—it smelled like death. My balance was not steady, and I teetered as I reached the edge of the burial plot, reaching out to touch the casket. I guess I needed to feel the hard steel under my fingers, knowing my mom was inside. I closed my eyes and remembered her smile, her laugh, her warmth.
A hand covered mine, and I opened my eyes to another set staring right back at me. I gasped. To see him here surprised me. His slicked back black hair gleamed in the late afternoon sun.
I had met him at the hospital after my mom’s accident. He was one of her doctors that I swore never left her side. I shivered thinking of the hospital. That whole week was still a blur. The memory of the phone call was vague. I could remember my dad telling me there was an accident, but on the rest of the conversation I blanked out.
“Dr. Walsh?” I asked.
He gave me a sympathetic smile. I recognized it because I’d gotten them all week. “Come sit down with me,” his voice was low, but not quite a whisper.
I slid my hand down the casket before turning to follow him to the front row of folding chairs and sat next to him. I glanced over my shoulder. More cars pulled up next to the cemetery. Most of the people I saw arriving were my dad’s friends. That was good. He needed their support. Now, more than ever. It also helped not feel so guilty about leaving him to greet everyone alone.
I averted my eyes from the crowd back to the casket. The roses on top looked stiff in the cold, with frost around the edges of their petals. The sight made my heart ache even more, and I wished I could make them all appear revived, as much as I wished my mom were alive.
Staring at the flowers, I closed off the world. The petals filled out and lifted as the roses bloomed anew. I shook my head. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks again, like with my hands earlier.
“You shouldn’t do that in front of mortals.” A hot whisper warmed the side of my face as the doctor leaned close to me, causing me to jump. It unnerved me to be that close to him—or him that close to me. Whichever it was, it didn’t settle well with me.
The flowers enthralled me so much that I hadn’t thought about anyone else seeing them. A shiver ran down the length of my back. Without saying anything more, he relaxed in his seat and stared at the casket.
“What?” My breath came out in a white fog, the air was getting colder already.
I decided to play dumb. It was easier than trying to give an explanation I didn’t have.
He leaned forward, still facing the casket. “The roses,
you shouldn’t do that while mortals are around.”
“Mortals? What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything.”
Cocking his head, his eyes locked on mine. “I can’t tell you here. We need to leave.”
I raised my eyebrows. Just like that, he wanted me to leave with him? “Excuse me?”
“Your mom is waiting, but we need to be discrete.”
I hugged myself tighter. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Besides, my mom is right there you freak.” Fresh tears welled in my eyes.
Dang tears. Why wouldn’t they just stop already!
“Arabeth, it’s crucial that you come with me. It’s not safe for you here. You don’t have a choice.” In his seat, he twisted to see me better, and then looked over at my dad who congregated with more of the growing crowd. He waved his hand slowly like he casted a spell over the cemetery.
I shook my head. “Leave me alone.”
He scared me. His voice held an ominous tone that seemed more than threatening.
He looked over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze to two more guys dressed in the same black pinstriped suit that he wore. They both gave a nod to the doctor and started our way. I tried to swallow the lump that formed in my throat, but my mouth went dry. I needed to move—fast.
I stood up, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down.
“Let me go!” I struggled to release my hand from his grip, tugging until his fingers painfully dug into my wrist. “Help!” I shouted louder and glanced over my shoulder, but no one even looked my way. Why can’t they hear me?
I spotted my dad’s car as I twisted my arm again. I needed to get there. A soft glow emanated from my hands. My eyes widened, but I didn’t have time to register what was happening.
Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. The doctor shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I placed a ward around us so no one will even notice us. No one here can even see you right now.”
That’s not possible. How could my dad not see this happening to me? I glanced back down at my restrained wrist. Thankfully, no light came from it. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew it wasn’t good.
I didn’t know what the guy was talking about. What was a ward? What did he mean no one could hear me? I glanced around at the mingling grievers. “Help!”
He was right—nobody even looked my way. I slapped him with my other hand across the face, but then he grabbed it, too.
I focused on keeping myself from shaking so he couldn’t see how scared I was. A false bravado that I hoped he couldn’t see past. “What do you want with me?”
He smirked. “You can’t guess?”
From behind me, hands grabbed around my waist, and the doctor let go of my wrists. I swiveled, throwing my weight into breaking the hold, but the man held me tight and lifted me from the ground. I screamed and another hand clamped my mouth shut. Another man came from the side and received one of my wild kicks in the gut.
The doctor chuckled, making anger boil in my veins. I struggled harder, only to have the hold on me tighten to the point where all the air squeezed out of my lungs.
Stupid! Why did I let the doctor distract me from the two goons?
They were kidnapping me from my mom's funeral. My mind whirled with everything ranging from torture to death. Would my dad find my body chopped up in little pieces left in the desert? He lost my mom, was he now losing me too? Would he have to attend two funerals in the same month?
My adrenaline went into overdrive as I tried to protect myself. I fought with everything I could muster, kicking out and twisting my arms, but the men who held me were strong, and it was like trying to move a mountain.
Quickly, I scanned the cemetery, looking for anyone to become aware of what was happening—nothing. Even with a small crowd, there were too many people not to notice. I couldn’t comprehend how it was possible they were dragging me across the cemetery kicking and screaming, but no one saw a thing?
The two men continued to drag me toward a newer black towncar that sat idle in the high school parking lot, while Dr. Walsh opened the door to the backseat ahead of us. The hand moved off my mouth enough for me to bite down hard.
“HELP! Somebody help!” I screamed again, still hoping for anyone to hear me before it was too late.
Dr. Walsh glanced at one of his goons. “Joe, get her in the car,” he said before he slid into the backseat on the other side.
No! This couldn’t be happening. Not to me, not right now. The two men held me from the sides as they tried shoving me into the car. I kicked out at one of the men again, this time my toes met his shin, causing him to briefly let go of me. But it wasn’t hard enough because he had his hands wrapped around my arms again before I could fight off the other guy. My skin ached in protest, already forming bruises from the rough clamp their fingers had on me. I stomped on his foot as hard as I could with my heel.
“Ouch! Would you stop it?” the man grumbled.
I twisted enough to spit in his face and struggled against them both again. The two men who restrained me were unmovable and even though I resisted, they pushed me into the car next to the doctor. After slamming my door as soon as my limbs were clear, they both climbed in the front, and we drove off, away from the cemetery.
Three
Arabeth
M y breathing became sporadic as I panicked. I needed a calm mind to find a way to escape, but it was hard to think through the fuzzy thoughts that raced in my head. Grabbing the handle I yanked on it, prepared to jump out, tuck and roll. But nothing happened.
I had always hated child safety locks, but right now, my disgust for them rose to a new level.
“You don’t think I’d forget to lock the doors, do you? That would defeat the purpose.”
I wanted to scratch the smirk off his face with my fingernails. Essentially, that wasn’t a bad idea.
I lunged for him, determined to do my best to mutilate his features with my nails. But, I was no match for his strength. He caught me before my fingers made contact with his skin, holding my wrists.
“I have a lot of patience, but I won’t tolerate you trying to harm me or anyone who works for me.” He pushed me back in my seat.
Rubbing my wrists, I slunk down in my seat, feeling completely defeated.
Familiar streets went by in a blur as we sped through the backside of town. Dr. Walsh pulled at the tails of his coat to straighten it as he settled into the leather seat. “Now, I think a new introduction is in order. My name is Victor Walsh, and I am not a doctor.”
His words came at me like bullets. Confusion dissolved my knowledge. “What? Then why did you act like one? Did you kill her? Why did you take me?” The questions came out fast, but I needed to know.
“Whoa, settle down. I didn’t kill her. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. What if I could prove to you that your mom’s alive?”
I glared at him and muttered through clenched teeth, “She’s dead.” I focused on my breathing, trying to calm myself.
He settled back into his seat. “What if she’s still alive?”
I threw my arms up in the air, already feeling the soreness from being grabbed too harshly. “Then where is she at?”
Great, a serial-killer psychopath kidnapped me.
He didn’t say anything, but remained relaxed with his hands folded together in his lap.
“Yea… That’s what I thought.” My mind flew a hundred miles an hour, thinking of ways to escape. My head pounded as my blood pressure catapulted, and my level of anxiety reached a capacity I was certain I couldn’t handle any more without throwing up.
After several moments, he cocked his head. “What if she is?”
I could taste the bile that now burned in the back of my throat. “Am I gonna die?”
He had a wide grin. “Not today.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, and clenched my hands into tight fists. What was that supposed to mean—not today? Did that mean he would torture me for a week before killing me?
I glanced u
p but avoided his eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze. “You’re crazy.”
“Oh really? I’m the crazy one? Who exactly made the flowers bloom in front of everyone? That wasn’t me.”
The heavy feeling from stress weighed my body down. “If I’ve gone off the deep end, then you pushed me there. Maybe you drugged me at the hospital while you took care of my mom.” I had no explanation for the flowers. I couldn’t give him one even if I wanted to—which I didn’t.
He tilted his head. “How would I have done that? You need to calm down.”
Calm down? Was he serious? I looked down at my shaking hands. A soft light hovered around them again. What was going on? Ugh! “I want to get out of this car!”
“Let’s change the subject a little and talk about your mom.”
I refused to talk. Glancing around the car, I looked for anything to hit him with. Of course, the car was clean, nothing anywhere.
“You’re just like her, except for your red hair and green eyes.” He swallowed and stared at the grey–carpeted floor. “The afternoon she—died—was supposed to be the day for me to help her get away, but your dad found out before I could get there to help. I should have been there and then she wouldn’t need to do this… I can’t help but feel this is partly my fault.” His eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to overflow.
I scrunched my eyes. “The day for what? What are you talking about?”
“I knew Meadow long ago. It was fate. I’ve been searching for you both the whole eighteen years. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her.” His mouth curved up, tugging at the corners of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about his smile was fake, put on, like he was trying to convince me—or himself—that he was happy.
“I’m not sure I understand.” Then it was as if light bulbs flickered in my head. “Wait—you were searching for me?” Oh, that was just terrific. My kidnapper was also a stalker! I shuddered at the thought of how many times I left my bedroom window open growing up.
Victor—or whoever he was—spoke up, shattering my thoughts. “Your mom said that she couldn’t leave.” His lips tightened in a straight line. “I can’t say too much right now, but I can tell you that she is drained. It took every ounce of magic she had to keep you concealed. Among other things.”