Finding Obscurity

Finding
Obscurity

By
Emma Shade

Copyright © 2013 Emma
Shade

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book
may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form whatsoever without the
prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews

This is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the
author’s imagination or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyedited by:

Carolyn
Pinard

[email protected]

Cover photo:
Toski
Covey Photography

Cover design:
Sommer
Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

Cover model: Hannah Harris

To my
mom, Sheila.

Without
you, I wouldn’t know the joy of being lost inside the pages of a book.

10 Years
Before

My sister
Sarah laughed as I bounced in the driver’s seat, trying to dance to our
favorite song. Her curly blonde hair and blue eyes a striking contrast to my
jet-black hair and hazel eyes. My sister apparently got the Barbie gene from my
mother, and even if we looked like polar opposites, we were sisters and best
friends.

We had just left a
graduation party that my best friend, Anne, had thrown for me. I had been a
good girl, but my sister had snuck a few beers from the keg. Since I had just
turned eighteen and she was only fifteen, I was hoping she sobered up a little
before we got home, because I didn’t want to be at the receiving end of my
parents’ wrath if they found out she had been drinking on my watch.

“What a night! I don’t
think I’ll ever forget about this for a very long time,” Sarah said, beaming at
me. “Brian was so hot, and when he asked me to dance, I almost fainted!”

I frowned. “Well, there is
no way I would let you go out with him. He is nineteen and you can’t even drive
yet! Plus, he may be cute, but he has a reputation of sleeping around, and if
he so much as touched a hair on your head, I would kick his ass.”

“Please, Lily, just
because you don’t have any interest in boys doesn’t mean I can’t! Besides, I
could sneak around and you would never even know about it.”

She was right about both
statements. It wasn’t like I didn’t like boys, but there were things I knew
about the guys I dated that I wish I didn’t. Sarah was so much better at doing
sneaky things than I was; she had even left the house to sneak out to this
party. I had tried twice to sneak out of the house and even with my freaky
abilities, I never saw her sneaking out or even saw myself being caught when I
tried.

I have these abilities
that started occurring when I turned thirteen. I dreamt of different
situations; anything from birthday gifts to the neighbor’s dog being hit by a
car, all which would happen shortly after I dreamt them. Of course it scared
the shit out of me when everything I dreamt about starting coming true. When I
had spoken to my mom, she sent me to a psychiatrist, thinking I was out for
attention, or clinically insane.

When I was about sixteen
or so, I got my second ability. When I was upset, I seemed to short out
electronic devices, similar to static cling, but just a tad more powerful. The
older I became, the more powerful these abilities evolved. That was one reason
why I didn’t have a cell phone, because after going through five of them, my
parents stopped replacing them. Of course, I left that little secret to myself
so I wouldn’t have to see that shrink again. My parents already thought I was a
little crazy.

“Still, I don’t want him
anywhere near you.” I gave her a stern look. “What were you thinking, trying to
sneak out and come to this party? You should’ve known better than that – and
drinking on top of it! What if Mom and Dad find out? You’re going to give me a
nervous breakdown!”

I went to turn the radio
down, but felt the static electricity on my fingertips and the hum down into my
bones, so I changed my mind. I didn’t need to buy another CD player for my car…
again.

“I am almost able to
drive,” she pouted at me, “and Mom and Dad will never find out. You know it’s true!
I’ll head straight to my room when I get home and they’ll never know.”

“I don’t know how you get
away with it, but I’m jealous. I must have a silent alarm on my window or
something, because I always get caught!”

Sarah giggled. “Maybe you
need to learn the art of stealth. I can hear when you get up to pee, and it
sounds like a herd of elephants walking around.”

“I do not sound like a
herd of elephants! Should I get some lessons from the expert?”

She grinned. “I would be
happy to show you the ropes. A little stealth training would do a body good.”

“Sarah, I’m still upset
that you snuck out tonight and ended up at the party. Somebody could have
kidnapped you, and I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you in my life.”

“I couldn’t miss my big
sister’s graduation party, and you know that. You mean the world to me.”

I grabbed her hand. “I
know, and I love you more than anything.”

“I love you, too, sis.”
She squeezed my hand.

The vision came out of
nowhere, and I gasped because they never came while I was awake. I was driving,
but this I couldn’t stop, even if I tried.

I saw a car on a
backcountry road and instantly recognized the little green Honda as mine while
the music blared. I could hear us laughing. We were about to round the sharp
curve that would lead to the road heading home. That was when it happened. The
car started to swerve to the right and hit the ditch off the side of the road.
I tried to correct the car, but it all went wrong. There was a loud pop of a
tire and the car started fishtailing before hitting the ditch again with a
slam. The car went tumbling end over end, with dirt flying in the air, when
suddenly a body flew out the windshield. I didn’t know which one of us it was,
and that made me panic.

I came back to my senses
with a deep rasp of air and instantly reached out to turn the radio down, and
with a crackle, it shorted out, the car going silent. My sister turned to look
at me with wide eyes, but I didn’t have time to explain. I saw the curve coming
up as a tear slipped down my cheek. I knew what was going to happen, and there
was nothing I could do to stop it.

I slammed the brake pedal
to the floor as we started toward the curve, and even though the car started to
slow down when I turned the wheel, it started to edge off the right side toward
the ditch. We were going way too fast to round the bend, and no matter how hard
I hit those brakes, we wouldn’t slow down fast enough. I felt the tire fall off
the side of the blacktop and turned the wheel to the left, but the car hit the
ditch again. I knew in an instant that the car was overcorrected when it
starting fishtailing. Things happened so fast that I barely had time to scream,
and for a flash it felt like we were in a washing machine on spin cycle when
the car stopped with a slam.

I was in the backseat of
the car and everything I saw was red. Wiping my eyes, I pulled my hand back and
saw blood. “
Noooo
!!” I sobbed, exiting the car,
cutting my arms on the shards of peppered glass.

The car had actually
landed right side up in a twisted metal heap as I finally pried myself out of
the passenger window. I knew Sarah had been the one thrown out of the car from
my vision, and frantically, I tried to find her, aided only by the one
headlight still working on the car. The field had mounds of dirt where the car
had flipped, and I kept faltering over them before losing a sandal.

“Sarah!” I tripped over
another pile of dirt and fell on my hands and knees.

I froze when I saw a pink
shoe a foot in front of my face. Scrambling up off the ground and running in
the direction of the shoe, I spotted my sister. I knew it was bad, but nothing
could have prepared me for what I saw when I found her. Her pink fleece hoodie
was no longer pink, but shiny black with blood.
 
Her arm was twisted behind her head at an odd angle, her leg was bent
backwards, and even though she was breathing, it sounded gurgled. Each deep
breath only ended with a cough and a choking wheeze.

I loped to her with tears
and blood streaming down my face, awkwardly landing beside her damaged body. My
hands hovered over Sarah, not sure what to do or how to touch her; I was scared
of making it worse or doing more damage. My heart was in my throat at the sight
of her. Her eyes were closed, and she was having trouble breathing. I wanted to
shake her to wake us up from this nightmare.

“Oh, God…. Sarah.”

“Lily…” my sister croaked.
She tried to take a breath, coughing up blood on her pale lips.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Sarah…. please look at me. PLEASE!”

I heard somebody yelling,
and I thought it might have been me, but the next thing I knew I was being
pulled back by gentle hands, hearing something about 911 being on the way. My
legs kicked out, trying to fight the person holding me. I had to get to Sarah;
I had to do something to help her.

The sirens were blasting
in the distance and I saw the flash of red and blue through the darkness. Keys
jingled, handheld radios squawked, and everything else seemed like a blur of
motion. Police, several EMTs, and a fireman came running across the field. I
was being held back by a stocky bald man, who happened to see the accident, and
had called in the emergency. As I fought the man, trying to get back to my
sister, one of the police officers asked if I needed help. Sobbing, I shook my
head and could only point in the direction of the people surrounding my sister
who were taking her vitals. It seemed like I had been standing in the field
haloed in headlights forever. I could hear the loud
thump-thump-thump
of a medical helicopter and I stared in a daze as
people frantically ran past me towards the wreckage.

My parents came running
onto the scene, screaming for Sarah, but were restrained by several police
officers. I looked back at them as an EMT basically dragged me to the ambulance
to check my injuries. I searched for Mom and Dad while they tried to ask me
questions about what was hurt and tended to the gashes on my body. I shook my
head at them, looking back towards Sarah. Surprisingly I felt numb,
disconnected, and cold.

When I finally spotted
Mom, I sagged with relief. They were here and everything would be okay now.
Sarah would be lifted into the helicopter and have a few days of recovery and
be back home. I was almost embarrassed to see my parents, because the wreck had
been my fault. I knew I had overcorrected the car. I should have been able to
gain control, since the vision told me this would happen. I sobbed when my
parents tried to get past the officers holding them back.

Then the unexpected
happened.

My mom looked me straight
in the eye with hatred. I had never seen such fury in a person’s eyes. I was
befuddled at the venom in them. Why would Mom be so mad at me? I know the wreck
was my fault, but Sarah would be okay.
 

“Mom…” My body jerked on a
sob but stopped at her look of revulsion intended for me.

Man, they were pissed at
me, and I couldn’t blame them. The hospital bills alone would cost as much as
college if I didn’t have a full-ride scholarship. But Sarah would be fine, and we
would laugh about this once we got to the hospital.

I jerked my arm away from
the medical staff trying to clean the gash on my head. I wasn’t that hurt and I
needed to get to my parents. But when I had finally gotten a few feet away from
my mom, the EMT stopped me by grabbing my arm. He said something about me being
in shock, and that I needed to sit back down.

I tried to ignore the
fierce look from my mother as I walked up to her. “I’m sorry about the car.
It’s going to be okay, Mom.”

“Don’t call me that!” she
shrieked. “This is all your fault, Liliana. Something like this was bound to
happen, and I never should have let you in my home! I knew taking you in would
be our worst nightmare! You were never my daughter, and my only daughter,
Sarah, is going to die because of you!”

I jerked at her words, and
the next thing I heard shattered my heart.

“Time of death: Saturday,
June tenth, 12:05 am.”

Chapter One

My name is
Liliana Canton, and after my sister died, things quickly spiraled into a living
hell. My supposed friends gossiped about how I had killed my sister, and news
spread fast about being adopted. The rumors even began circling again about how
I was the little crazy girl who said I could see things in my dreams. I didn’t
even sit with the family at the funeral. I was alone, and forever I would be
that way. Because of that experience, I could never trust anyone again after
losing the only person who actually loved me.

I left
home with what little a teenager would own and went to college, graduating with
a Master’s in Business, but with no friends or family that wanted anything to
do with me. During my time in college I was the nerdy, loner, weird girl who
stayed to herself and never made friends because I just couldn’t find it in me
to put myself out there. How could I trust anyone enough that they wouldn’t
leave when they found out that I was a freak of nature? I went to class,
sitting in the back row with my head down, and didn’t make eye contact. Then I
would go straight to my room to study. Thank goodness for a full-ride
scholarship to Northwestern University. I was thankful to them for allowing me
to get an education and to get away from the small town crapshoot I grew up in.
I had promised myself I would never step foot in that place ever again.

I found
out that a family who had lost their lives to a horrible fire in Tennessee were
actually my parents. I knew nothing more of them other than that, and I have
never spoken to the people who raised me after my sister was buried. I knew I
wouldn’t get any more answers about by birth family, and sometimes I wondered
if they knew from the beginning that I would be a freak. It hardly seemed like
it was ten years ago. How my life had changed since that night.

I pulled
myself out of the memory of my past and looked out the windshield of my dark
blue BMW M3 toward the club called Revive. It was on the seedy side of town in
an abandoned industrial park. The building had a worn red brick exterior, with
those big multi-squared windows that were now updated and blacked out so you
couldn’t see any lights on the inside. It would look abandoned if it weren’t
for the line of people and the bright red neon sign announcing the name of the
club above the door. It was known as the best dance club in Indianapolis, even
if only a few select people got in the doors and cleared the bouncer.

I slowly
got out of the car, careful not to flash the goods with my sequined dress, and
decided that going nude on my long legs wasn’t the best idea with the cold
March air. The heels from my knee-high boots clicked against the broken
concrete to the sound of bass coming from the club. I straightened my sequined
dress and pushed up the tiny bit of cleavage I had as I spotted the doorman. I
was not going to be standing in line with of hundreds of people tonight.

The
doorman held a clipboard and had one of those fancy earpieces. He was wearing a
red T-shirt with the Revive logo across from the front and tight leather pants
like a second skin. His 80s cut hair was dyed an intense blue that was a
startling contrast to his coffee-colored skin. He was guarding the red velvet
rope like it was the gates to heaven. Maybe it was heaven, because I have never
gotten past the guy in all my attempts in the past. He was intimidating, full
of muscles, reminding me of a body builder. But he didn’t scare me in the
least, because I made sure I had gotten a name from the list from my
acquaintance, Sam, who worked at the club.

Walking
straight up to him, I stood waiting for the burly guy to look over at me.
Finally, I cleared my throat. “If you’re not on the list, you go to the end of
the line,” the guy said with a raised eyebrow.

“Paisley
Greenwood,” I announced with an innocent smile and slightly upturned nose. I
don’t know this chic from Adam, but come on, her name screamed
rich bitch
.

He took
his little gadget and started typing into a computer screen that I originally
thought was a clipboard. This place was high-tech, and as long as I didn’t get
upset and knock out the lights, we would be okay. Trust me; it happened once at
a large electronic store when the rude customer service worker wouldn’t return
my busted TV. Okay, so I blew the TV when I got mad one night at something
stupid, but I guess my payback at the jerk was cutting the whole power down as
I leaned my hand against the wall while yelling back at him.

The
bouncer grunted and used his stylus to hit another few buttons. With a sneer,
he released the rope to allow me inside, watching me like I was smuggling drugs
inside. It made me a little nervous, but soon I was inside, moving among the
crowd. It wasn’t like they would go looking for a rich snotty girl who would be
spending money in this place.

Once I
cleared the green double doors, the air was smoky from a mix of fog machines
and cigarette smoke, layered with the smell of sweat and cheap perfume. The
club had multicolored laser lights zipping all over, while men and women with
perfect bodies were doing several acrobatic dances on sheer fabric hanging from
the ceiling.
 
Others were dancing in cages,
and I squinted in disgust at them; so cliché. Other than the cages, the place
looked really extravagant. The walls were painted deep shade of crimson, which
I figured was the club’s signature color, and occasionally there was a stripe
of glittery black design painted into the wall. The dance floor was impressive,
painted a shiny black. Underneath the thick lacquer were large pieces of mirror
and glass, and the floor sparkled when the laser lights from the ceiling
bounced in between perspiring bodies.

When I
found the main bar wrapped in metal diamond plate, I looked for Sam. When I
spotted him, he took a big swig of some sort of alcohol and then made flames
with a lighter, somehow spitting the concoction from between his lips. He
impressed me even more by throwing the bottle in the air in a magnificent twist
and catching it on one finger before pouring somebody a drink.

Sam Arbor
and I weren’t really friends since I made sure nobody got close to me, but he
bought me coffee once at the mall and that was close enough. We had exchanged
phone numbers that day and talked every couple of days, and usually had several
shopping trips a month. He was totally gay and worked at Revive as a bartender.
I was just glad to have somebody who was good with fashion to help me shop for
the right clothes. I wanted to look sultry, not like a total slut. The fact
that he knew how to make a killer cocktail was a plus.

The bass
boomed through the club and through my body as “Sexy Bitch” by David
Guetta
blasted through the impressive sound system. It was
tempting to dance after I let Sam know I was here. I fought the throng of
people and finally made it up to the bar, by pushing my way through.
 

I waved to
Sam, who beamed at me, and after an expert bottle twist, made his way towards
me. He was dressed like all the other bartenders in black leather pants and a
skintight red shirt, and it looked good on his fit body. I knew for a fact that
Sam ran every day, and I wished I had that type of motivation. He was good
looking with dirty blonde hair up in pointy spikes and bright blue eyes. His
tanned skin glowed under the lights of the bar. It almost made me sad that he
was gay, but then again, I didn’t have time for a relationship, nor did I trust
anyone to get close to me anyway, so it was a win- win. His lips moved when he
came up to me, but because of the music, I had no clue what he said.

“What?” I
shouted, cupping my ear.

After what
looked like a laugh, he made the “come closer” motion with his pointy finger
and I leaned forward. “What do you want to drink,
Paisley
? It’s on me.”

“Make me
something good!” I shouted back.

Sam
smirked mischievously and started doing some more of the amazing bottle tosses
with what looked like some sort of dance along with it. I bet the man he ended up
falling in love would be very happy in bed with him, judging by the way he
moved, but then again, he wouldn’t have to be in love to please some lucky guy.
I smiled as he handed me some sort of blue drink in a tall, thin glass. He
winked at me as he moved on to his next customer.

I turned
around and leaned up against the corner of the bar and looked up at the people
dancing. There was a reason I was here besides Sam’s great cocktails. I took a
sip and moaned in approval at the taste. Man, he was good. The next song that
came on had my foot tapping to the beat as I glanced up at the dancers in the
cages. Then my eyes roamed the acrobatic dancers hanging from the ceiling. I
was looking for a one of the women up in either the cages or doing some sort of
routines from the sheer curtains. One of them was rumored to have special
abilities.

Sam had
let it slip that a woman by the name of Stacy was able to sense emotions by
touching somebody. He swore by this woman, calling her some sort of
empath
, but he had no idea about my abilities, and I liked
to keep it that way. I had been following these rumors all over the country,
trying to find somebody legit whom I could maybe get some answers about who I
was.

My
abilities had gotten stronger over the years, and the glimpses of the future I
blocked, unless it was a very strong premonition that caught me off guard. And
even though I had a better control at not shorting out everything electric,
very strong emotions would still let it slip. I have had my cell phone for over
a year, which was a record, I think.

So far, I
haven’t found anyone with special abilities still living besides one other
woman. I found her in Florida, and according on her mental health records,
which were hanging on the end of the hospital bed, she was certified insane
because she was supposedly able to see the future. When touching normal people,
they felt like a steady constant hum of energy, sort of like a phone on
vibrate, but when I touched the comatose female, it had felt like I’d stuck my
finger in a light socket. That was how I knew she had to be like me. She had
been in a coma for years and ended up dying a few days later when her family
decided to pull the plug. Her ability to get glimpses of the future would have
gotten me closer to the answers I desperately needed, but she couldn’t talk
anymore for obvious reasons. Dead people can’t tell tales, but I wasn’t going
to give up trying to find somebody like me.

I checked
my watch. According to Sam, the dancers get a break in about three minutes, and
then they dance with the rest of the people on the floor, mingling to bring up
the atmosphere. That would be my chance to find her, but they only were out
there for a few songs. My time was limited to find the mysterious,
blonde-haired Stacy.

Making my
way back to the bar to get another drink, Sam motioned me over. He folded
himself out of the bar and came up to me, dancing, with a big grin. “I am on
break for fifteen minutes. I am dying to dance!” he said, grabbing my hand and
dragging me to the middle of the dance floor as another techno rendition of a
popular rap song started.

We swayed
to the music and played off each other’s movements. There was no sexual
tension, which was great. Not that I really had experience, and if I were being
honest, I would say that my sexual tension experience is nil. Not having to
worry about Sam hitting on me allowed us to act on each other and show off. I
loved to dance, and growing up taking dance lessons up until graduation had
allowed me to express a lot of my frustration into dancing. The bass was
booming and the lights were flashing occasionally over Sam, lighting up his
blonde hair in different hues of colors. I smiled at him as the bass
reverberated through my lungs. If I had to admit it, I was having a lot of fun.
Man, I needed to get out more often. I laughed at Sam when he grabbed my hand
and spun me around as the next techno beat began. I almost lost my rhythm when
I noticed the dancers were no longer above us. When I turned around, Sam placed
his hands on my waist from behind and I glanced around, looking through the
dancers trying to locate this Stacy. I had to remember that was my goal and I
couldn’t afford any distractions, as tempting as dancing the night away really
was.

There were
three blondes who were dressed in skimpy red outfits which bore the club logo.
They made their way through the dance floor, and I was lucky enough to
accidentally “bump” into the first one. Normal. The second blonde was about
five feet from us and I pretended to move around and took Sam with me, and it
took me a few moves to get to her, but no zap.
Dammit
.

Sam turned
me around to face him, our bodies touching like lovers. When the song ended,
Sam leaned forward and yelled in my ear, “Hey, I
gotta
get back to the bar. Come see me for your next drink.”

I nodded
and continued dancing, trying to locate the final blonde woman. I couldn’t
remember how many songs I had left until the dancers left the floor. That’s
what I get for having fun with Sam and not paying attention. With so many
people on the floor, I closed my eyes, dancing to the beat, and with my newest
ability, I put what I called my “feelers” out there. I don’t know how I had
this new ability, or maybe I have always had it, but I discovered that I could
use it to locate the direction of something familiar. It was sporadic at best,
and it never worked when I wanted it to – just like the rest of my freakiness.
Something told me to move closer to the DJ, so I made my way towards the front
of the club and the impressive black-painted booth ten feet above us. Stacy was
there with hands in her hair, with one of the male dancers, putting on a real
show, reminding me of those
Step Up
movies. Had that been what Sam and I
looked like? Nah, I wasn’t that good.