Unveiled: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone

by Jacklyn Daher

  "I want you to be comfortable and at ease, so call me Valencia. We can skip the formalities." Her voice was soft and calm. "I come here to reflect, the nature creates a calm, peaceful and untroubled inner me." Her legs criss-crossed on the mat, in a yoga position, her white chino pants almost covering her feet. Valencia lay her arms flat on her thighs so her hands cupped her knees.

  Oh boy. Another fruit loop.

  Luxor copied her, although confusion marred her mind. How was this doctor supposed to help her? And why was she ever highly recommended? Had the courts even checked her credentials? She came across as a self-help guru.

  Psychologists wore immaculately dressed slacks and shirts with their hair tied back, and always with a stern expression. Well in Luxor’s mind anyway. With her long curly red hair tumbling at her shoulders, warm smile, and casual clothing she was a contrast to the norm.

  "How are you today?"

  It took all her strength not to laugh at the predictability of the question. "Fine.” Luxor fibbed. There was no use telling her about her altercation with Scarlett and her anger burst, or fainting spell.

  Valencia gave a curt nod, a smile on her face as if she predicted her answer. “I don’t know what your perceptions are of anger management classes or what our classes will entail, but I assure you whatever you assume, you can forget about them.”

  "Well I certainly didn't expect a shrink that looks like a hippie." It came out snippier than she intended.

  Valencia remained silent. "I take a holistic approach to life and emotions and I incorporate it into my work ethic." She spread her arms out wide. "I created this Zen garden to help my patient's mind and body to be in harmony in natural surroundings."

  "What, so no laying on the couch or in this case a mat, divulging everything that pisses me off." Luxor quipped.

  "Not quite. But before we work on dealing with the here and now, I need to you to return back to the root of the problem."

  Luxor arched her back, and stiffened up. "I don't want to talk about it."

  Valencia furrowed her brow, not in anger, but disappointment as if Luxor's main aim was to make her job all the harder. "Actually, you do." There was no malice, but seriousness had crept in. The message was loud and clear. “Whether you like it or not.”

  “I can’t begin to fathom all the changes you’ve had to experience. Family, friends, lifestyle…name. Bottling that in can cause more harm than good.”

  Luxor’s eyes misted over and she bit the inside of her cheek to prevent any emotion.

  The catalyst of the incident was not just losing everything she loved all in one foul scoop. But she had lost herself. Who was she? Would her life have been any different if she knew the truth earlier? Would she have been as carefree as she had been? Luxor would never know, and that hurt more than she would admit.

  “You can’t change the past,” Luxor cleared her throat and croaked out. “What’s done is done, help me move on.”

  “No, you need clarity from a better present and future,” Dr. Valencia Lawson said. “Let’s work from a different angle. Tell me what happened in the gymnasium.”

  Luxor vehemently shook her head, she was becoming quite adept to evading questions. Deep down, she knew she had to recall the event, that was the reason for the move, but she didn't understand the logic behind it.

  Valencia inclined her head, and took a measured breath. It was evident in her profession she was well equipped to handle adolescents with pent up emotions and their outbursts. Her demeanour was neutral, although she changed tactic when she viewed Luxor's blank expression. Smile and remain emotionless. Meredith had ingrained that motto to her from a young age.

  "Close your eyes. Opening up can be hard at first, but if you find that place deep inside you, I guarantee you'll feel lighter. Meditating helps in finding inner peace, and a quiet solitude especially after a long hard day. Breathe in with your nose, and out with your mouth."

  Luxor did as she was asked, and opened up her mind, breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth. The more she cooperated the better her record would look. She rubbed her legs and wished she could do the same for her past.

  Vivid memories flashed back, as if it was a scab, which would leave a scar. For months after the accident, she lay bedridden in a community hospital far away from Verity, who recovered in a private hospital. With Verity’s father being the state’s best barrister, no expense was spared.

  The doctors had no idea where to start; there was no option but to put her in a medically induced coma for three months for her body to repair itself in a painless manner. Almost every bone was either fractured or broken, her entire body was covered in a cast. Cotton cocoons suspended her legs in the air, metal rods held them together. Both of her arms had been snapped, six fractured ribs, a punctured lung, and ruptured spleen. Bandages wrapped around her head, left fussed up and bruised, almost unrecognisable with her left eye covered like a war victim.

  The first thing image Luxor saw when she was released from the coma was heavily armed police officers positioned at the door. She was literally a virtual prisoner, and they treated her like she was going to escape.

  How was that even possible? And they were calling me the insane one.

  Meredith hardly visited, and so day after day, she lived on constant painkillers to deal with the agony in order to recuperate, spoon-fed lumpy cauliflower soup and sugar-free jelly. When Meredith made an appearance, the police repeatedly asked the same question.

  “Why did you do it?”

  In her drug-addled state she slurred, over and over again. "I don't know."

  And she honestly didn't. How could she have possibly collapsed a gymnasium wall? The most probing question out of all this was, why would Luxor hurt Verity, she was her best friend.

  The police waited until she was released from hospital to continue the interrogations. It was illegal and useless interrogating a sixteen-year-old doped up on painkillers and unable to respond properly. But it didn’t stop them. And nobody dared to. Throughout her rehabilitation and court proceedings the police tried and tried with the same question, but it the result was the same.

  How could I show emotion for something I couldn't remember?

  It was ultimately her downfall.

  By showing no emotion she wasn't showing any remorse. It was a no-win situation. Lying would have been the easier path.

  "Luxor," Valencia's voice snapped her out of trance.

  How much time had passed while she was trying to recover her memories?

  "Whatever you say is completely confidential. How am I supposed to help you if you won't let me in, if you don't release whatever's in you?"

  "That's the thing, there's nothing to release." Luxor was exasperated. She rubbed her eye, drooped her weary head, and wanted to stay in that position. She might as well be an answering machine. Just get up and leave, she urged herself. Mentally she had already left the building.

  Back in the confines of the office, Valencia pulled open a drawer from her desk and withdrew a white notebook from her drawer and passed it over. “By the next session I want you to write down your emotions, even if it’s one line and we can explore them. Let’s call them seeds.” Luxor flipped open the notebook. “It would be beneficial to release your frustration out in a physical sense…solo. Perhaps running?”

  Solo. The word was laced with great emphasis, and hung in the air.

  Her hand gripped the handle. "Til next time."

  The sun blazed with a bright orange glow, on the cusp of setting when Luxor arrived at The Chalet. She all but dashed out of the office after declining Valencia’s offer of a life home. She need silence, not more hippie dippy psychologist lectures. Relief overcame her for two reasons. Being home and finding it empty. Well almost. Kitty met her at the door and circled her ankles before Luxor propped her on the bottom step of the stairs. As expected, she was followed by the ginger right into her bedroom where she lounged out on the bed.

  Luxor headed into the bat
hroom, removing her contacts and took an ice-cold shower. A headache lingered at the back of her head, and her arms burned. From what she had read people that suffered fainting spells woke up disoriented, which she did, but surely not a complete main blank. There was nothing there about that. The last time her head ached like this was after the accident in Hampton Cove, but it had to be expected, her injuries were horrendous. But this was different. No damage was done. Nobody was hurt. And Luxor was unscathed—well, apart from the scratches.

  She placed her head against the tiles, willing the headache to go away. She had already popped two aspirin, but they had no effect. Her arms continued to burn, although not as bad. It was bizarre she didn't remember doing it. What was stranger, was her memory loss.

  I probably did it to myself, my stupid nervous habit.

  Luxor would have to ask Evie exactly what happened, Evie wasn't capable of lying, or that's how she came across.

  Not only would it buy her time to conjure up a story to tell Meredith if news of her confrontation got back to her, but mainly she needed to find what Meredith was hiding. If there was anything. And that was Luxor’s ultimate priority. Instinct told her she couldn't rely on Meredith's self-imposed repressed memories to reveal anything about Luxor’s mother instead Meredith decided to guard them with a lock and key. There had to be hard proof to shed some light on what Luxor was looking for. And if Meredith hid anything, she would keep it close.

  Luxor set up her laptop on her bed and made it seem as though she was doing homework. If Meredith wanted proof of Luxor jumping into studious student mode, she had it.

  With no time to lose, the quest began.

  Luxor should have felt guilty for invading Meredith's privacy, but she didn't. She was left with no choice. And besides if secrets were being held from her, she felt any action was warranted. Luxor entered the room with trepidation, and pried the curtains apart a smidge until only a sliver of light streamed in through the tiny box sized window. But that's all she needed.

  The room was half the size of Luxor's, with sparse furniture. A queen-sized bed with a dated brass and iron head was positioned in the middle of the room, with plain white linen coverings. On each side, there were two mismatched bedside tables, adorned with bits and pieces. Apart from a cream rug, nothing showcased Meredith's personality, or that anybody lived there. No pictures, no history. It could have passed for a standard cheap motel occupied by a random.

  Luxor opened the wooden wardrobe, turned the bronzed knob, and sifted among the few pieces of clothing that hung on the rack. She kept her eyes on anything that could be dangling from the hanger.

  Nothing.

  She knelt on her hands and knees and entered forward in, swiping the bottom of the wardrobe, but all she came up with was a handful of dust. It had to be somewhere in the room, her intuition was leading her here, and it was rarely wrong. She was always told to follow her gut, and this was a time she would listen.

  Luxor lifted up on her toes, a couple of shoe boxes on the top shelf lined up in a row. Meredith only wore comfort shoes, either flats or canvas shoes, surely there was bound to be something in there. One by one she reached upwards and removed them, placing them gently on the floor. If what was in one of those boxes was fragile, she would swear to the high heavens and beyond if she broken them.

  Sitting crossed legged on the rug Luxor flicked the first lid. Littered inside and filled to the brim were random stacks of paper such as passports, medical records, and files for the house. Replacing the lid, she swiped it to the side, and opened the second box. Photos upon photos of baby pictures of Luxor, and a multitude of postcards. Luxor retrieved a baby bracelet and circled it around her finger, thumbing across her former name. Who are you really, Ellie? Agony struck her chest, justifying her actions.

  Useless junk.

  She hoisted herself up with an oomph and secured the boxes in their rightful place. Why Meredith kept those objects was a mystery, it wasn't like they were sentimental. Even if they were, it didn’t change a thing. Surveying the room, all the open spaces had been searched. Maybe it was hidden under the bed or mattress, mean old ladies used to do that to protect their money in the olden days. Or so she had heard.

  Where can it be? Think, think.

  Luxor was about to lift the mattress when her hip made contact with an open drawer. She winced and rubbed at the affected spot. Closing the drawer, a tinkling sounded within. Pulling open the drawer nearest the window, the vibrations were louder. Multiple objects connected together moving side to side.

  I knew it; I knew she was hiding something.

  She smiled widely. Digging through the various pieces of underwear and bras tossed them about, her reckless behaviour not even a factor. With her arm reached half way, she finally wrapped her hand around a couple of orange cylinder shaped bottle. “Valium.”

  Looks like I’m not the only one who isn’t sleeping well.

  Luxor dumped the bottles back, one being empty and the other half way to finished. She fixed the undergarments as best as she could, and slammed the drawer back. Where else can I look? She racked her brain for an answer.

  A list of possible locations sprung to her mind. Air vent? Attic? Car? Headlights shone outside as a car drove up the driveway. She made sure the room was the same and untouched. She needed to leave before Meredith found her snooping.

  In her rush to leave Luxor stumbled over the ottoman. She let out a small cry as she clutched her throbbing knee. Kitty placed her paw and let out a meow before scratching at the floor. Luxor crawled to the ottoman, pushing it back to its position and fixed the rug that had flipped over, which exposed half of the floor. Quickly flipping it over, she pulled and smoothed it straight to make sure it was free of bumps. A silver ring lay on the floor.

  Jewellery? It was not likely. Meredith only wore gold, and never owned silver. Luxor picked it up, but it was stuck.

  A ring pull!

  Engraved in the floorboards, box shaped lines outlined the ring. Luxor's eyes lit up beyond doubt something was hidden. Meredith would have known about the trap door; her rug was the only personal touch of hers. It would be the perfect place to hide something. She looped her forefinger through the ring pull and tugged, but it wouldn't budge. With time running out she gritted her teeth and jimmied the ring, up and down until her forefinger cramped.

  The creaking on the stairs became louder, the footsteps on the floorboards heavier. Frustrated, Luxor pulled the rug over. For now, she would have to leave it and come back later. She tiptoed into her room, grabbed her iPod of the dresser, and dangled her earphones over her shoulders. Luxor exited her room and expected to see a weary Meredith.

  "Surprise!" Evie and Ayla chorused together.

  Luxor jumped back against the wall, a screeching meow following. "What the frig?" she gasped, picking up a startled Kitty and clutching her to her chest. "What are you doing here?" She said in a calm voice, she didn't want to flip it, even though she was justified to.

  "Nice to see you too." Evie's tone was sarcastic but her eyes suggested she was being playful. "We brought pizza." She lifted up a brown family sized square box.

  "I told you I was coming over," Ayla explained.

  "But I didn't give you my address," Luxor told them.

  "Oh, please everybody knows where you live," Evie said flippantly. "Remember small town, everybody knows everyone."

  "So, you let yourselves in? Who does that?" Luxor growled.

  "Door was open. And besides I beeped the horn. How could you not hear us?" Evie moved her head around and surveyed her surroundings.

  The lack of boundaries had taken a new level, all Luxor could do was move to the side, and let them in. Ayla made herself at home like it was normal, circling the room, and taking note of the boxes.

  “Where were you? I went to the student lounge and you didn’t turn up. I even messaged you.”

  Luxor rubbed her forehead. Her fainting spell in the classroom had her missing the opportunity to purge about Hunter
and his late-night breaking-in at the Blazin’ Bakery. “I had to see the principal, fix some transfer papers.”

  “All fixed?”

  “All fixed.”

  "Hey before we get you all unpacked, can you give me a tour? I love this house," Evie asked.

  "Why?"

  Luxor placed Kitty down on a chair and opened the bi-fold doors, and warm air filtered in. Suffocation filled her lungs, and the room felt as small as Meredith's. She had to accept the girls were there, but she wanted to kick them out to return to the trap door. And for intruding. She wanted to believe they were harmless, that this way there way of welcoming newcomers, but she wasn't so sure.

  Evie lingered near the cupboard. "When I was younger, I wanted to be a princess, as all girls do, and used to beg my mum to come visit old man Carter. He owned this house up until last year. Once I even baked him cookies, but still she never took me." Evie touched the wall, and twirled around, her eyes fixated to the ceiling. "Look at this place. It's incredible." She spun around five times, arms outstretched, until she dropped on the floor and giggled.

  Luxor fished in the box for the first item, a dress, and slipped the coat hanger over. "If you want to see incredible, you should have seen my old house." This is a dump.

  "Doubt it. Did your house have passageways and underground tunnels and—"

  Ayla subtlety kicked Evie on the side of her foot. "Evie has an overactive imagination and loves to believe rumours."

  If Luxor hadn't been fascinated by Evie's enthusiasm, she would have missed it. Her attention had been piqued, and more than ever she wanted to go back to the trap door. Even if nothing was there, it had to be somewhere in this mysterious house.

  Ayla unpacked the toiletries box one at a time and lined them up on the dresser. Perfumes grouped together, in a perfectly straight line, from tallest to smallest. Once she had finished with that, she did the same with the lotions.