Edge of Darkness Box Set

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “How so?”

  “Well,” he chuckles as he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “First, she hates me calling her ‘grandma.’ I have to call her Clara.”

  “I think I’m loving your grandmother more and more, and I haven’t even met her.”

  “Yeah, well. That’s not the half of it.”

  When I finish with my locker, I close it and start heading to my next class. Tobias walks beside me, and tells me more about Clara. “She’s also heavily tattooed. Pretty much from here, to here.” His right hand goes to his neck, and his left hand to his knees. “And she drinks.”

  I’ve never met a cool granny before. “Tobias, she sounds like a kick-ass kind of woman.”

  “And she swears. A lot.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath in. “And she owns a gun.”

  I can’t help it, I let out a laugh. “I gotta meet her.” I’m excited to meet a woman who seems so free and so much bigger than life.

  Tobias’s mouth draws up in a smile. “You want to meet Clara?” he asks. “For real?”

  “Hell yeah, she sounds awesome.”

  We head into biology and sit together. Jared joins us a few moments later. He raises his eyebrows at me when he sees Tobias and I sitting next to each other. “Oh, right,” Jared grumbles as he sits on the other side of me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You get up and leave at lunch all in a huff, and now I find you all buddy-buddy with the guy who riled you up.”

  He’s got me. “You’re right,” I say lowering my eyes in shame.

  “And furthermore… what? Wait, did you say I was right?”

  Looking up at him, I smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken off. I didn’t give him a chance.”

  “So, what? I’m being replaced?”

  I can see the hurt in his eyes. I must’ve really done a number on him. I need to make this right.

  Ivy.

  Ugh, go away. My demon is always there.

  My mood drops, and suddenly the demon in my head is right here. Urging me. Calling to me. Making me doubt everything about myself.

  Jared lifts his left brow and stares at me. He’s waiting for an answer. Shaking my head, I don’t think I’m strong enough to open my mouth and not scream at the demon. Closing my eyes, I take several deep breaths before I regain control over the voice eagerly pestering me. When I open them, I find Jared staring at me. His mouth is open, his eyes filled with worry. “I’m sorry,” I say after a few long, drawn out seconds. “You’ll always be my best friend.” I lean over, grab him, and drag him into a hug.

  The demon is quiet now. But I can feel him lurking in my mind.

  “Don’t go weird on me again, girl.” He tightens his arms around me.

  “I thought he just wanted sex, so I took off because I didn’t want to put myself in that position,” I whisper.

  “Yeah, but you left me sitting there like a total loser. It’s not what we do. We always have each other’s back. Always.”

  I squeeze him tighter. He’s right. I freaked out and took off, but left Jared alone. I pull out of the hug and lower my eyes. I’m totally embarrassed by the way I acted. “Sorry,” I say again.

  “Don’t get all sentimental on me. Just don’t do it again.”

  “Deal.” I offer him my pinkie to make a pinkie promise.

  “What are we, like ten?” But he hooks his pinkie around mine and shakes.

  Mrs. Richards comes into the room, and the moment the bell sounds, the class starts. Mrs. Richards is talking to us about the topic of DNA, which we’re going to be covering for the next week.

  “Are you hanging out with Zane on the weekend?” I ask Jared.

  “Yeah, probably. Why? What do you wanna do?”

  “I’m thinking of heading into the city and taking my camera.”

  “I think he’s got a competition on Sunday, but we can totally hang out on Saturday if he’s got practice. If he doesn’t, we can all head into the city together, I don’t think I’m working.”

  “I’m thinking of inviting…” I tilt my head subtly toward Tobias. “What do you think?”

  Jared’s gaze travels over my shoulder to look at Tobias, and he smiles. “Yeah, ask him.”

  “You sure?” My insecurities are making me crazy. I should be able to make a decision and just do it without worrying about the consequences.

  Ivy.

  Not again. Sometimes I wish my name wasn’t Ivy. I can’t wait for the day that I don’t need the blades.

  “Yes, ask him.” Jared touches me on my arm, catapulting me back to the now, muting the voice in my head. Why is he so damned vocal?

  “Okay, I will. After class.”

  I look forward to Mrs. Richards. But the image in my head is one of a blade held in my hand. A shiny piece of metal desperately wanting to make contact with my skin. My skin craves it, and I tune out to the drawl of Mrs. Richards’s voice.

  My heartbeat quickens, a gnawing need takes over my body.

  I can’t wait to get home from school so I can use the blade.

  I’ll explain to Azael, tell him how it makes me feel. Maybe beg him to stop calling on me as much as he does. But now I need to hold it, feel it, caress it.

  Coldness touches my skin, as my pulse rapidly travels the length of my body.

  Ivy.

  I’ve been doing my best fighting it.

  Ivy.

  I’m coming.

  Chapter 3

  Waking this morning seems to be easier than I thought it would be. It’s Saturday and I’m going to head into the city to take some photos.

  The cut on my stomach is stinging. And the small slice has already bled through onto my t-shirt. “Damn it,” I grumble as I strip off my shirt and wipe at the droplets clinging around the cut. Heading into the bathroom, I grab a bottle of antiseptic and wipe it across the fresh wound on my stomach, cringing at the bite of discomfort. Initially it’s painful, but then the liquid cools, making me sigh.

  When the sting has finally subsided, I apply a fresh bandage and get changed for the day. I make my way out to the kitchen, and Dad’s nowhere to be seen. Picking up a note he’s left on the kitchen counter it reads;

  Gone to work, will be home late. Double shift at the factory

  “Great,” I mumble to myself.

  Releasing the paper, it floats gently to the counter, and lands on a bowl filled with apples and bananas. I grab the milk from the fridge and get the cereal from the cupboard. Pouring the cereal in a bowl, then the milk, I lean against the counter and quickly inhale my breakfast. I finish, rinse my bowl and spoon, and place them in the dishwasher.

  Taking my camera case, I head out the front door to catch the bus into the city. I didn’t end up asking Tobias to meet me, and I convinced Jared to hang with Zane. I need time to myself, to get lost in the world behind the lens. The make-believe world. The one where everything is beautiful and perfect.

  Where I’m beautiful and perfect. Where I’m in control.

  At the bus stop, I notice a lady who lives in my neighborhood. Her name’s Jessica and she’s really old. “Hello Miss Jessica,” I say politely as I approach and sit beside her.

  “Ivy.” She smiles up at me. “What are you doing out here?”

  I hold my camera case up and reply, “Going to take some photos.”

  “Oh? Where are you going?” she asks with genuine interest.

  “Um, I’m not sure. I was thinking about heading into the city, but I think I’d rather find somewhere peaceful.”

  “You know where I’m off to?” she asks; I shake my head in response. “I’m going to visit Albert. It’s our sixtieth wedding anniversary today.”

  “And you’re going to visit him?” I ask watching her features soften. Tears well in her eyes as she nods her head. “May I come with you?”

  Suddenly her tears disappear and her face brightens. “I would love the company. But don’t graveyards scare you?”

  “Not at all. Dad and I
visit Mom there all the time, so they don’t frighten me. Actually, they fascinate me.”

  The bus arrives. Jessica stands and shuffles forward. When the door opens, it takes a good minute for her to step up, pay her fare, and find a seat near the front of the bus. Sitting beside her, I settle my camera bag on my lap and turn to look out the window.

  “Life is precious, Ivy,” Jessica announces unexpectedly.

  Turning, I stare at her, not really sure why she made such a bizarre statement. Maybe she’s sentimental because we’re going to see her husband who’s passed away. “I know,” I reply and offer her a genuine smile.

  “Do you?” she asks. Her words are innocent enough, but it’s like she’s staring into my soul and she can see the demon I fight. Nodding my head, I do my best to level my features so I don’t give anything away. She smiles at me, though the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

  Gulping, I inhale a deep breath and return to look out the window. Instead I close my eyes and count to ten in my head. I can see Azael. He’s smiling at me with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s nodding his head, taunting me with a cruel smile. He knows how much power he has over me, and he also knows how much I hate him for it.

  Ivy. He whispers in a gravelly voice.

  I have to avoid him and not listen.

  But he’s always there, watching and waiting. Waiting and watching. He’s always ready to pounce, no matter where I go.

  The bus jerks as it takes a corner, causing me to shift and roll into Jessica’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I say as I turn to look at her.

  She clutches her handbag to her chest and shakes her head. “Not at all, dear. It’s the way the bus is. Bumpy and unforgiving.” She smiles at me. The bus travels for a good twenty minutes, stopping to let passengers off and pick new ones up. A girl dressed in all black, goth-like, gets on the bus and sits behind Jessica and me. She has oversized blue Beats headphones covering her ears. Her music is so loud I can hear the words clearly.

  I listen to the lyrics.

  They’re haunting and beautiful, yet overwhelmingly sad. Strange. Closing my eyes, I let the rhythm of the song take over. It doesn’t take long to imagine myself living the life of the song. Isolation and loneliness, a life I’m already living. Harboring secrets I can never spill. My hand discretely moves beneath my shirt. I feel for a scar, one of the bigger ones. My fingers find the soft, bumpy line. Instantly I breathe out, knowing I’ll never be able to tell anyone about my secret.

  No one will ever understand.

  They’ll never comprehend the pull I feel toward the blade when Azael calls to me. They’ll never grasp it. How can I share something so private with anyone, and expect them to understand, when I struggle with it?

  Is it a relationship?

  Some kind of sick relationship?

  I don’t know what there is between Azael and me. He showed up years ago, and soon after, I found the calm he gives me when I cut.

  “We’re here,” Jessica announces as she stands.

  Leaving my world of solitude, I quickly return to the present.

  “Oh, we are,” I say in a surprised voice. Was I really imagining him for most of the bus ride?

  Standing, I follow Jessica as she shuffles toward the door and stand behind her while she maneuvers off the bus.

  I sling my camera bag over my shoulder. We wait for the pedestrian lights to change, and cross the road. “There’s a flower store up on the corner,” she says taking some money out of her purse. “You’re so much younger than me, Ivy, could you go buy the best flowers you can for this?” She holds out a five dollar bill. Her cheeks pink with color. “It’s the most I can afford,” she adds in a small voice.

  “Of course.” I smile at her, take her five dollars, and start walking toward the florist. I walk up the hill in no time, and find the store. They have a huge selection, and I quickly find the cheap ones. The five-dollar bunches are skimpy and look like they’re nearly dead.

  I find a bunch of bright pink and yellow tulips. They’re much more expensive than the five dollars Jessica has given me, but I think these will make her happy. Taking out my card, I charge the flowers and pocket the five dollars. When I head back down the hill, Jessica is sitting on a small stone bench, just inside the cementery gates waiting for me.

  She offers me a huge smile and struggles to her feet. “They’re so beautiful,” she says as I hand her the flowers. “Are you sure these were only five dollars?” There’s a sadness in her eyes. “I can give you the rest of the money next week,” she adds, but her features flinch with distress.

  “They were on sale because they’re flowers from two days ago,” I quickly lie.

  “Oh.” Jessica’s entire face lifts with joy. “They look so fresh.”

  I half-shrug as if to say, ‘Yeah, I know.’

  “Albert used to hate going to the hospital when someone was sick.” She clutches the flowers in her left hand, and hooks her right arm through mine so we’re walking arm-in-arm.

  “Why?” I ask her.

  “He used to say he could feel death, and death was always near.”

  A cold shiver runs up my spine. It takes everything inside of me to hold back the obvious effect of Jessica’s words. I sometimes think I can see death, especially when I succumb to the darkness and press the blade against my skin.

  But that’s not the demon who taunts me. Death is different.

  Death is accepting… peaceful… loving.

  “Albert used to say he could smell when death was near.”

  I tremble again, but do my best to hold the quivering back. “He did?” I ask, my voice cracking.

  Jessica either doesn’t notice the crackly pitch in my tone, or she ignores it.

  “He said it smelled like burnt cotton candy.” I wrinkle my nose and make a mental note to pay attention to the smell the next time I see Azael. “He hated the smell of cotton candy.”

  “I wonder why he hated it so much?” I ask trying to understand why he saw death and why he had such an aversion toward it.

  “He had a near-death experience when he was younger. He contracted TB.” She turns to look at me as we stride toward where her husband is. Drawing my brows together, I shrug my lack of knowledge to what TB is. “Tuberculosis.”

  “Oh,” I say, now knowing what she meant when she said ‘TB.’ “I’ve heard of it, but all I know is they used to cough blood.”

  She nods her head. “It’s a disease that’s not around so much anymore. It mainly affects the lungs and if left untreated it can kill.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “When Albert was a young boy. It was the end of World War II. His family was poor and food and medicine was hard to come by. Albert got sicker and sicker, and his parents did what they could for him, but with little money, it was difficult to get him the proper care.”

  We stop under a huge elm tree shading another bench seat. Jessica sits, and pats the space beside her. “It must’ve been difficult for his parents. To watch their son become so sick and not be able to help him,” I say while trying to shade my eyes from the sun.

  “The moment his parents saw him coughing blood, they went to the local church and begged for help. The church managed to scrape together enough money together to buy him the medicine he needed. But it was a worrying few days for his parents.”

  “Why would it be worrying when they had the medicine?”

  “Because it took a full two days before they saw any improvement in him. And in those two day he got much worse. He’d lost so much weight his ribs were protruding, and his lips were turning blue. He told me it was then he first saw death. He always used to tell me Death was like a friend to him. Death didn’t try to scare him, but Albert was terrified of Death. He told me his nose was filled with a burned cotton candy smell as Death stood over his bed and begged him to let go so he could take him.

  “But Albert fought, and he fought so hard that he beat Death’s hand. He used to say anytime we had to go to the hospi
tal for any reason, how he could sense Death looming in the hallways, waiting to take the souls of the dying ones.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a piece of paper being thrown around by a gust of wind. It commands my attention as it flips from one side to the next, stuck in a small vortex. I can’t help but think I’m stuck in the same kind of spinning cycle.

  The blade calls me often.

  It drags me away and gives me the illusion that I have control.

  When the demon calls, and I fall prey to his seductive words, in the seconds before the blade makes contact with my skin, I wonder if I’m the only one who feels the pull toward the knife.

  Am I alone?

  It doesn’t matter even if I’m not. I can’t tell anyone.

  No one would understand.

  Ivy. He calls for me, again.

  I hate him so much.

  Chapter 4

  I’m drowning. My arms flail as I kick my legs. Water is taking over, creeping up my body. Something sticking to my skin makes it hard for me to move my legs. Looking down, I see a white dress wrapped tightly around me, the edge of the tulle skirt fluttering in the water.

  I kick, and kick and try to rise to the surface. The dress drags me down further into the cold abyss of the water. Sharp rays of sunshine break through the water.

  “Help!” I yell, but my mouth fills with water. It’s impossible, no one can hear me.

  Thrashing around, I desperately try to emerge from the powerful current of the water.

  “Help!” I yell again.

  My lungs continue to fill with water.

  There’s no more fight in me.

  Tilting my head up, I can see the surface of the water, blue sky seemingly only inches away from my reach.

  My arms fall limply to my sides.

  This is the end.

  The end of me.

  The end of everything I know.

  I’m drowning, and no one even knows I’m here.

  “Help!” I scream in my last frivolous attempt.

  “Ivy!”

  The water begins to vanish.