A Second Sight

by Eden Winter

  A SECOND

  SIGHT

  A Paranormal Romance Story

  By

  Eden Winter

  Copyright © 2017 Isse Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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  Contents

  Chapter One

  Very Superstitious

  Chapter Two

  Walk on the Wild Side

  Chapter Three

  Afternoon Delight

  Chapter Four

  Imagine

  “Samantha…”

  Chapter Five

  Night Fever

  Chapter Six

  Family Affair

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that. If I didn’t ask you to come, then…”

  Chapter Seven

  Bridge Over Troubled Water

  Chapter Eight

  You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet

  Chapter Nine

  Killing Me Softly

  Chapter Ten

  Staying Alive

  Epilogue

  “TanTan, get away from there!”

  THE END

  A Note From The Author

  Prologue

  For some reason, there are moments in our lives we think we can control. If something works in our favor, for example, it means that the universe is rewarding us for our previous thoughts and actions. Our subconscious works in such a way that we send some sort of frequency out into the cosmos that ensures we receive a punishment or a reward. We control our destiny because of what floats about in our minds, and we can control or manipulate our external world based on the decisions we make.

  Is that what you think?

  Do you think it’s possible for us to be able to control our emotions or how we’ll react to whatever life throws at us, control what comes next—whether we expect it or not—or control any aspect of our lives because we take the necessary steps mentally or physically? If you do, then maybe you’re more of an idealist than you’d care to admit.

  There’s nothing wrong with that. Truth be told, I wish I was still an idealist. There is something beautiful in believing that everything will work out and that there is a chance we can all live happily ever after.

  This story might be what could change your mind. Or maybe when we reach the end, my mind will be the one that’s changed forever. But I’m nowhere near the end, I don’t think. And I’m too far from the start.

  To be perfectly clear, I don’t believe we control anything. Even inexplicable events are just random—and rarely welcome—coincidences.

  Like this moment that I’m in right now… or will be in later. There’s nothing that can be done about what is happening before me. All I can do is watch in horror. I can’t move, scream, touch or intervene, even though I desperately want to. Even if I could, I would probably be too late. It’s very hard trying to dodge an arrow that is already halfway toward its target, even though everything feels as if it were moving in slow motion.

  I wish I was wrong about all of this. I wish there were situations in our lives that we had control over, that once you saw something coming, you could actually do something about it to prevent the worst from happening.

  But I’m not wrong.

  We’re all at the whim of the cosmos. If everyone is in control, then no one is in control.

  No matter how much I’d like to be in control of the situation I’m witnessing, I know there is nothing that can possibly be done. What makes it worse is that I’m the only who is the least bit aware of what is about to happen and who knows that the time from what I saw to the actual event occurring isn’t too far off.

  There was never any way to gauge the time. It could have been anywhere between a day from today to several years into the future. No, that was definitely hyperbole. I never had to wait long for a vision of mine to become something that happened in real life. I could sense it was soon enough, certainly within the next several weeks. There was something very urgent about what I needed to see. I didn’t have the power to choose where I went, what I saw, or whether I could change things. All I could do was watch and wait and hope that there was a way I could possibly change the outcome of whatever it was I was able to see.

  Wait. Before I go any further into this, I am going to need to start from the beginning if I’m going to make you understand what I’m saying.

  I will do my best not to waste your time. I don’t have much time myself whilst in this state of an almost-spinning world coupled with visions and racing thoughts.

  It all started when I met Peter, or was it later on when I met Baylee, Reginald, Delilah, or Philomena? It was definitely before I met Eli. There was a chance that it could have even been when I decided to get a pet, and the person who gave her to me had shifty, knowing eyes. They knew that the black cat was more than just your average everyday house cat. By the time I found out myself, the shifty-eyed shop owner was nowhere to be found. So, I had a cat on my hands and plenty of new problems I needed to get through.

  No. I’ll need to go further back still before I can talk about any of those people or even my cat. It probably all started with my parents, but that is much too far back to explain everything along the way, as I think I’m running out of time. I’ll just need to start from somewhere in the middle and hope that you’ll be able to understand everything that is about to happen.

  Chapter One

  Very Superstitious

  I remember the day when I saw my new friends for the first time. I had no idea how important they would be to me until quite some time after that first encounter. Nothing will ever prepare you for something as strange as being able to see people who are nowhere near you in real life.

  I remember that it was a sunny day in the beginning of summer. The weather was so sweet outside. There were luscious green leaves and grass outside and beautiful colorful flowers. Everything was alive even after the rains of spring had ended. The sky was clear save for a few cotton ball puffs floating by.

  “I’m very glad that we decided to do this today.”

  I had been invited to go on a picnic by my sister and her boyfriend. It was bad enough that I had come out of a very messy relationship just a year prior to this picnic [I am putting that very lightly], but now I had to witness my sister deeply in love with a wonderful guy. I needed to be a part of their lives, guilt and sin free, but I didn’t think I needed to worry about a guy like Malcolm.

  It was true what they said about male fairies—they were chivalrous, handsome, and kind. This guy, in particular, was probably the most perfect person, not only for my sister Isabelle but in the known universe. His hair was golden and fell around his face and ears. It was thick and straight and would flutter with any movement of the wind. He had eyes the color of a raincloud. They were like lit charcoal. I had never seen eyes such a dark grey before. They fascinated me. I could see why Isabelle liked him.

  “It really is a lovely day, right Samantha?” My sister turned to me with a warm smile. She looked happy, and she deserved to be. Isabelle was as warm as the weather that day. She was always chipper, sweet, and soft spoken.

  “The loveliest,” I said. I tried to be as polite as I could be, but even as I said the words, I knew they didn’t sound authentic. I didn’t want to put anybody off. I knew that Isabelle was just trying to make sure I wasn’t at my home moping about the place. There were only so many days
I could spend at home with my black cat, Tangerine, before even she would get tired of me and want to run away from home.

  It was strange that my sister and I were so different. I was more like our father, and she was certainly more like our mother. Our father is a hotheaded human full of ideas and feelings, and he isn’t always able to get a handle on his emotions. Our mother, on the other hand, is the sweetest and kindest fairy woman—kinder than what one may expect of a fairy. Mother is cotton candy in the form of a living soul. It’s a wonder she married my father. It’s a wonder too how they’re still so in love with one another. You should see the way my father looks at my mother. It’s like he sees her for the first time every time. And here I am, currently being an extra leg for a date Isabelle insisted I go on.

  “Are you sure it’s alright for me to be here?” I asked. I pulled Isabelle back and waited for her boyfriend to walk a few paces ahead of us. He was perfectly content taking a look at each tree and smiling up at the branches.

  “Of course it is. Malcolm and I are happy to have you with us,” Isabelle said. She smiled and her grey-green eyes squinted with joy. That was probably the only thing that was similar about us. Isabelle was tall and slim with legs for days. Her skin was a soft and creamy peach color, and she had fiery red hair that was thick and flowed down her shoulders. She normally kept the top half of it in a bun and allowed the rest of it to flow free. Her lips were thin but always rosy and ready for an inviting smile. Looking at her was like looking at a dream.

  “I want to thank you for inviting me, Isabelle. I know that I haven’t really been myself lately,” I said.

  “No darling, that’s fine. I know you’ve been going through some things. I’m happy that you were feeling well enough to join us. I love when you spend time with me,” she said. She was absolutely perfect.

  “I know. It’s really good to see you, Izzy.”

  She locked arms with me and rubbed my shoulder.

  “What do you think about under this willow?” Malcolm asked us when we were close enough behind him. It was the gloomiest tree in the park, but it also provided the most shade. The branches curved downward like a hand waiting to cage us in. The leaves and tendrils swayed solemnly with even the slightest bit of breeze.

  He looked at me when he asked. He had been trying to ensure that I was all right with everything since the start of our outing. He was the one who called and invited me out because he wanted to get to know the people who were loved by the woman he loved. It was all so sweet, and it was impossible to tell someone like him no. He was just too accommodating.

  “It’s nice. I like that it’s close enough to the pond,” I said. I was sure to make my voice sound more chipper. I knew Isabelle appreciated the effort because she smiled widely at me. It would have been great to have a smile like hers.

  I did have a nice smile, but it was nowhere near as inviting as Isabelle’s. My lips were thin but pale to the point that they almost were the same color as my skin. My face was round and pleasant with high soft cheekbones that reddened at any sign of kindness, embarrassment, or anything that induced anxiety. I was almost the spitting image of our mother. My skin was a bit more blanched than Isabelle’s, while my hair was short and thick and curly. It was black, which was unusual, because there was no one in our family who had black hair. I remembered when I looked back into our family tree and found that on both sides of my family, there wasn’t anyone with curly raven hair.

  “Perfect,” Malcolm said as he tossed our picnic blanket in the air. It came down slowly and landed as a large blue square at the base of the willow tree. Isabelle set down our picnic basket and sat down in the center of the blanket. She crossed her long legs and started to pick out a sandwich for herself to eat.

  I stood by the blanket looking and feeling rather awkward. I wanted to see where Malcolm sat before inevitably deciding that my place was at the corner of the mat that had the best view of the lake. I never knew what to do around couples when they laughed, held hands, or kissed. It felt strange to watch them, but there was nothing else my eyes could focus on. Looking around made me feel like a lunatic, and then the anxiety would bubble to the surface anyway.

  “Go ahead and have a seat, Sam. I think I might go and climb that tree over there,” he said. He pointed two trees away from us to the thickest trunk I had ever seen on a tree. There were so many grooves and holes before it blossomed outward into a million branches. The branches were so thick and long that they could have held about half of an army without any sort of strain.

  “Please be careful,” Isabelle said. She had half of her sandwich stuffed in her mouth, so now she looked like she had chipmunk cheeks.

  “I’ll be fine. I have excellent balance. You two have fun.” He was well on his way to the tree before there was any way for Isabelle to protest.

  I sauntered over to the blanket but didn’t sit. I didn’t know what was preventing me. Isabelle looked up at me and blinked and chewed. As slowly as was possible, I crumpled onto my knees and then onto my stomach. The blanket felt like I was sleeping on a cloud. It was thick enough that my body could have made an imprint in it. I moaned happily as I rolled around for a minute. That made Isabelle giggle, and she had to hold her hand over her mouth in order to keep her food from falling out.

  “You really like Malcom’s blanket, huh?”

  “It’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever been on,” I grumbled. My face was still buried in the blanket. “Where did he get it?”

  “Oh, I think it was something a family member of his made for him. I’m sure if I asked him, I’d be able to get you one. I know you’d like one in black.” Isabelle said.

  “You know me so well.” I laughed. I rolled over onto my side and asked Isabelle to pass me a sandwich. It really was so nice that we were able to do things like this again. We had been so close to each other as children. People often assumed we were twins with how inseparable we were, but I was actually three years younger. Isabelle was always so protective of me, but even in those times she would kill people with kindness. There was always a smart and sweet solution for handling bullies—at least that was something she used to say. It worked on her, because she was charming and everyone knew her as the sweetest girl in school.

  We were always together up until she left elementary school and went into middle school. I no longer had Isabelle to protect me, and that meant I had to get some kind of backbone. And boy did I. I was a lot bolder on my own than I thought I would be without Isabelle. She never lost her sweetness, but over time I became more and more sour. She was never struck with a rebellious phase or teen angst, so I ended up having enough for the two of us. I was wild, mean, and selfish. But I’ll get back to that later.

  At that moment, I was feeling like my old self again. I wanted to hold her hand and braid her hair. How I wished I could go back in time and listen to all the advice she had ever given me. I was belligerent and still weak, while she was soft but somehow also the strongest person I knew.

  “I really hope Malcolm doesn’t fall out of that tree. I know he’s quite athletic, but everyone has an off day. Accidents happen,” Isabelle said. She was craning her neck this way and that in her attempts to see where Malcolm was from where she was sitting. I sat up on the blanket and followed her gaze. I couldn’t see him either.

  “I’m sure he’s fine. I can check if you’d like me to,” I offered.

  “Would you?” she asked. Her shoulders slouched as her smile widened. She was relieved.

  “No problem,” I groaned and rose from the blanket. I never wanted to leave it. I headed in the direction of the tree Malcolm was climbing. I took my time. I knew he wasn’t hurt or anything, so there was no rush to get to him. It was bravery that made me make the offer to my sister, but now I was already beginning to get shy. I had no idea what to talk to him about once I got to him. It made sense to let him do all the talking, but he was too swell of a guy for that. He would want to know more about me, and I wouldn’t really feel inclined t
o say anything unless he asked.

  Suddenly, everything felt different. I had to take a step back in order to steady myself and gain some equilibrium, but my knee buckled underneath me. It was limp for a second, and I almost tripped. I caught my balance and paused to clutch my heart, and then I looked up. My eyes grew so wide that I almost felt my pupils dilate. I gulped in a long hollow breath.

  There was a deafening silence around me, and I was beginning to experience vertigo. The world wasn’t spinning; it was just different. I wasn’t feeling dizzy, but I knew I needed to sit or lie down. What was happening to me? I couldn’t have been hungry or dehydrated. I didn’t think I was becoming sick, because illnesses didn’t hit you the way this strange vertigo hit me.

  I reached out one hand, expecting to grab something in order to keep myself from toppling over. That was when I saw a person—no, two people. Wait, no… I could see several people before me. They were there, but they also weren’t there. I could see them clearly now even though they weren’t there just a moment before. Malcolm, Isabelle, and I were on the side of the lake that didn’t have many visitors. We all appreciated the quiet aspects of the wondrous outdoors. But the people who were in front of me couldn’t even see I was there. They were all walking around the trees, some laughing, and the others trodding along silently.

  I could barely move without feeling like I was about to fall over. I watched the other people in silence. I didn’t feel like it was possible to even try to speak. My mouth opened and closed, but I didn’t make much effort to speak.

  I saw that one of the people was a witch. I could tell by the natural tattoos that snaked up and down her body, visible even with the long dress she wore that went down to her ankles. It was impossible not to notice a witch. They all had special markings and symbols they were born with. They looked like tribal tattoos drawn all around their bodies. Some were beautiful and had different colors, and others were almost menacing and terrifying to look at. This girl’s markings were black on her dark brown skin. She was cackling at something her companion said. He was a witch like her—though many of the men preferred to be called warlocks—with black markings on the back of his neck. His skin was a greyish-blue color, and he wore clothes that made him look like a member of a grunge band. Part of his tribal markings extended onto one side of his face. The two of them were holding hands.