Awaken (24 page)

             
“Do you want to leave?” she asked gently.

             
“It’s okay,” I looked down at my hands and ran a finger over my trace that was looking slightly dulled.

             
“You just say the word and we’ll bounce,” Carmen came up to stand in front of me; Ricker on her heels.

             
“Plus, Dr. Drake is calling….” Phoebe bounced up on my left and kissed me on the cheek. “We wouldn’t want to leave him waiting.”

             
“Yeah, the last thing I need is to have some insane dead guy stealing my heart,” Carmen said.

             
“I thought I already did?” Ricker sneered; putting an arm around her. 

             
“Maybe I’ll let Dr Drake steal my heart after all,” she lifted an eyebrow at him.

             
“It’s too late for that,” he pretended to tear her heart out as she wiggled away from him.  A light change in color in my peripheral vision had me turning my head to the right - just in time to see a small gray tendril twist and writhe; vanishing behind several dancers about twenty yards away. 

              On my feet in seconds; I pushed away from my roommates and launched into the throngs of monsters, witches, and fairies.  With my head on a swivel, I spotted a second gray tendril as it precariously hovered above the head of a younger girl dressed up as Pocahontas.  I watched in horror as it spiraled down onto her shoulder and slid around her neck.  As I was about to reach out and swat it away from her it disappeared.  Pocahontas gave me an odd look as I continued past her in pursuit of the evil smoke.

             
It reappeared several yards away, floating innocently and flippantly through the cool, night air.  I concentrated on keeping it in my sight as my eyes followed it across the Hole.  Suddenly obsessed with the tiny tendril and fearful for the hundreds of people gathered in celebration, I scanned every shadow and stone ledge in search of the only evil being I knew to produce such smoke.  The loud music faded behind me as I followed a sidewalk around the history building.  The festive ambiance created by the Halloween party in The Hole faded with it; eclipsed by a more sinister darkness that I could feel weighing on my heart.  Even the shadows scaling the side of the stone buildings were darker.  I could feel them watching me; imposing and leering above amongst the scraggly shadows of the tree branches.

             
A stinging sensation on my hand had me glancing down.  I jerked away when I spotted several gray tendrils attempting to wrap around my left wrist; around my trace which had begun to dull in brightness.  Looking in every direction, I still only found my ever-watchful night companions: the towering trees and ever-taunting shadows.  A movement to my right quickened my pulse immediately and my breathing spiked considerably. Feeling vulnerable and exposed out in the open, I began to walk.

             
Slowly, the number of pin pricks on my back increased in number and in the level of pain where my skin was left bare by the style of my dress.  I began to feel them along my arms and on the sides of my face.  My legs stopped abruptly, I squeezed my eyes shut, and then spun around as if evading a swarm of killer bees.  Considering a swarm of killer bees would be an upgrade from my current situation, I didn’t expect my futile attempt to work by any means.  The next instant, the prickling sensation vanished and I felt a strong presence right behind me.  Spinning around on my heel, I braced myself for what I would find.

             
“Stasia?”

             
“Phoebe!” My crudely constructed resolve shattered and my body began to shake.

             
“What are you doing out here?” she asked as she grasped both my arms in concern.

             
“I just thought I saw something.” I shrugged my shoulders, trying to play it off as no big deal.

             
“Haven’t you watched scary movies?” She put her hands on her hips.

             
“Huh?”  How did we go from me seeing things to scary movies?

             
“Something bad always happens when a person walks off by themselves because they
saw
something or
heard
something.  The only thing worse is when the dumb girl runs up the stairs when the killer’s after her.” I linked arms with her and let her chatter on as we walked back to the Hole. “I mean where does she think she’s going to go? Her bedroom?  The roof?  It’s tragic, really. So I’m going to have to make you promise to never be the dumb girl in the scary movies.”

             
I smiled at her; grateful for her wispy approach to the situation. “I can assure you I will never be the dumb girl in a movie.  I’m a horrible actress.”

             
“Well that’s a relief.  You had me worried!” she exclaimed with a smile.

             
Upon returning to the Hole, the party was still in full swing, so I tried to lose myself in the mass of people dancing and laughing.  I blocked out anything related to Finn, Nadia, or my journey, and just pretended I was a normal girl dancing with my friends at a normal Halloween party.  I pretended there were no evil princesses trying to steal my soul.  I pretended my boyfriend wasn’t betrothed to the aforementioned evil princess.  I pretended I didn’t have to travel to the Underworld in order to fulfill my destiny and become an immortal.  And it worked.  Until we left.

~~~~~

              “That wasn’t break dancing. That was broke dancing.” Carmen jumped down off the stone wall she was using as a balance beam and sneered at Ian.

             
“It’s called b-boying or street dancing,” Ian replied in all seriousness. “And it’s not as easy as it looks.”

             
“All I know is that it looked like you were having a seizure.” Carmen did a bad impression of Ian’s popping and locking moves; leaving us all gasping for breath from laughing so hard.  We had left the party and were walking down a shadowed road on the marsh side of the island towards the famed, haunted Drake House.  Large live oak trees covered with Spanish moss flanked both sides of the road.  The elegant moss hung from their deformed branches as it swayed in the ocean breeze; enhancing the spooky factor tremendously.

             
“You’re a regular JabbaWockee, Carmen,” Phoebe told her sarcastically.

             
“What’d you call me?” Carmen stopped mid-step and turned to face her.  She gave her a sympathetic smile, “I need to pray for you.”  She bowed her head mumbled something inaudible, and then looked up; shrugging her shoulders. “Nope, too late.  Your soul’s not salvageable.”

             
“It’s alright. I’d rather be a vampire for the rest of eternity anyway. I’m starting to get used to my fangs.” Phoebe touched her teeth extensions delicately, “Just think how fast I’ll be able to eat corn on the cob!”

             
“What in the world is a jabachoochie?” Willow asked them.

             
“JabbaWockee,” Phoebe corrected her. “It’s that group that was on America’s Best Dance Crew.  You know, the hip-hop group competition?”

             
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Ouch!” Willow screeched as Phoebe stepped on her long fake hair; ripping her head backwards.

             
“Oh!  I’m sorry!” Phoebe jumped back.

             
“Let’s see if we can get this under control,” I muttered as I stepped over to Willow and began to gather her hair and twirl it into a massive bun on top of her head.  The whole group stopped with us, watching and snickering.

             
“I think you should keep the extensions in.  Gives you that ‘damsel in distress’ look,” Ricker joked. “Or is it the big jelly donut look?  I can’t tell the difference.”

             
“Your real hair is much more beautiful,” Liam put an arm around Willow, who was staring daggers at Ricker.

             
“Hey….guys?” Carmen murmured; her tone deadpan. A horrified expression had frozen onto her dark features, and we turned to see the reason all the color had drained from her cheeks.  “Is….Is that it?”

             
Directly in front of us was the quintessential haunted house of childhood nightmares and horror movies, positioned on a decrepit acre of dead leaves. The ragged branches of a lone live oak tree had been stripped of its foliage, which now lay below.  No other trees on the island had begun to lose their leaves yet, and the stark contrast chilled me to the bone.  Once you were able to move past the layer of brown leaves and the overgrown stone path that used to be a driveway, the main attraction took your breath away.

             
The Victorian style manor was extremely out of place on an island of beach homes.  Its majestic wraparound porch had been warped by the destructive forces of nature, but it still looked to be intact.  Ruthless vines of ivy were devouring the entire house inch by inch, and most of the light gray paint had been peeled back from the exterior from years of relentless salt, wind and sand. 

             
Several dormer windows were perched on the third floor overlooking the dreary landscape. The suffocating darkness and mass of vines drenched the house in mystery; hiding its secrets from the world.  It looked…patient.  As if waiting for something.  Or someone.  I felt a gentle push from behind.

             
“Go ahead Stasia, you go first,” Carmen urged.

             
“The only way I’m going in that house is if every person out here goes in with me.” I stared at the drab, wooden front door that probably hadn’t been opened in eighty years,  “And even then you might have to drag me inside.”

             
“What’s the big deal?  It’s just a house.  Just because an entire family was gutted inside doesn’t mean it’s haunted,” Ricker rolled his eyes.

             
“What are you waiting for, then?” Carmen raised an eyebrow at him and mocked him, “I mean since it’s not a big deal and all.”

             
Sensing a shifting movement on the road, I glanced down and followed a sheet of sand marching from the side of the road to gather at Phoebe’s feet.  I met her gaze and smiled sympathetically.  I knew from my own sand experience how comforting it could be. 

             
“Yeah, man,” Ian stared at the house as if it could come alive at any moment, “That’s all you.”

             
“Ya’ll are pathetic.” Ricker shook his head and began to walk toward the house.  Shaking out his arms and tilting his head back and forth like a boxer readying for a fight, he strode up the front steps with confidence, turned the knob and disappeared into the house.  We held our breath as we waited for him to reappear.

             
“See?!” He popped back into the doorway with a triumphant smile shining on his face. “Ya’ll were getting all bent out of shape for no-“ Without warning, he was yanked from behind by an unknown force; leaving us with only silence and a dark empty doorway.  Carmen started running first.  We all followed and made it to the open door at the same time.  Without hesitation, we crossed the threshold and went into the dark house.

             
“Ricker!” Carmen screamed with obvious desperation and fear.  Any apprehension I had about the house was wiped clean the second Ricker was attacked.  Now adrenaline and determination were my only driving forces.  The interior of the house melted together in a cacophony of dark shapes and shadowed doorways.  The dust that had settled across its depths was at least three inches thick and quickly collecting in our lungs.  I grounded my feet, centered my thoughts and concentrated on the open front door.  All I had to do was think about a large gust of air circulating through the house and it came to fruition.  I closed my eyes, focusing on the air and picturing it swirling through each room, over the walls, and around the corners; hoping to clear the dust. 

             
“Remind me never to piss Stasia off,” Ian whispered and I heard Phoebe snicker.

             
As I opened my eyes, the wind receded.  What it left was a dreary (although dirt-free) vacant shell of a house void of any color.  The darkness of night had erased all ability to distinguish one room from the next as we searched for Ricker.  We all had the same idea of turning on our cell phones to use as flashlights; careful not to step on any old, rickety boards that could end up hurtling us into oblivion.

             
“Ricker!” Carmen yelled again; panic-stricken.  A light scraping sound from the corner brought our attention back to what I assumed was the library.  We all whirled around gasping, as a figure stepped out from behind a curtain.

             
“Were you worried about me?” A crooked smile washed over his features.

             
“Ricker!” Never has one word held so many emotions.  Relief, anger, happiness, and frustration were heavy in those two syllables.  “What the hell are you doing!?”

             
“I figured it was the best way to get ya’ll in the house,” he said sheepishly.  Tears rolled down Carmen’s cheeks as she walked up to Ricker and slapped him across the face. 

             
“Scare me like that again and I’ll rip you apart piece by piece.”

             
“That’s my girl,” he murmured adoringly with a grin before his eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry Carm, I didn’t mean to scare you.”  She stepped even closer and the second slap I was expecting was replaced by a hug.

             
“It’s a good thing you showed yourself.  Stasia was conjuring up the elements to hunt you down,” Liam said to him with a smirk.

             
“Finn would be proud,” Ricker quipped with endearment before realizing what he had said.  A sob began to build in my throat, but I pushed it down and frantically tried to think of something else to talk about.

             
“Did you see any ghosts while you were hiding?” I forced a grin.  Relief washed across his eyes and he smiled back.