Chapter 12

Misty and I both have a history lesson; we walk arm in arm like we have done many times before. I silently chide myself for forgiving her so easily. What can I do? Everything feels so strange and unreal. Misty is the only real thing I can grasp. She was a part of my normal life.
Chris is already seated, waiting for the lesson to begin. He has a notebook ready and a textbook before him.
Mr. Donald tells me to find an empty seat. Justin points to the table across from his. I sit beside him and share his textbook. I really need to visit the library and get my own books; I will put that on my to do list.
Just as luck would have it, Chris’s seat is directly behind Justin’s.
Mr. Donald starts the lesson. I find myself feeling uncomfortable. His voice draws fear from the hidden depth of my soul, demons, and the dark ones. His words repeat over and over in my mind. My mind starts to whirl as a nightmare takes control. Everything fades away until I’m lost in my own consciousness.
The air is ice cold. Snow drifts slowly from the overcast sky settling on the white blanket that covers the ground.
Laughter comes from the distance. Two figures come into view. A young woman runs through the snow with difficulty. The snow comes to just above her ankles. Her golden blond hair dances in the arctic wind.
She is the mystery woman from my dreams. The same high cheekbones and the same full lips.
A young child, no more than six years old, runs behind her. Snow rolled into a ball clenched tightly in her fist. The snow soars through the air, hitting the young woman on the back.
“Let’s go in and get warmed up,” the young woman says in a musical voice that pulls at my heart strings.
“Oh, Mum, can we play a little longer,” the child pleads, her cheeks tinged a deep pink, her nose, rosy red.
“Tomorrow, sweetheart,” the woman replies, physically dragging the child along.
The scene quickly changes. A rush of heat hits my shivering body. Confused and shocked, I pinch myself. Pain shoots down my arm.
I better stop doing that. A red mark lingers.
Fire burns in a big open fireplace. The soft glow creates dark shadows in the corners of the room.
Dark mahogany walls surround me. Pictures of snow-covered mountains hang proudly on the walls.
“Can we go sledging down Point Hill tomorrow? Please.” The child sits before the fire, wrapped snugly in a purple blanket. Her mother sits beside her, placing two cups of hot chocolate on the floor.
“Have you seen the trees at the bottom of that hill, Kayla? They are huge. We will look for a safer hill.” My heart stops. My mind goes blank.
“Kayla.” The woman called the child Kayla. Looking closer at the young girl, I see her eyes change from a striking blue to a vibrant green. I gasp.
Neither the woman, nor the child notice me.
“Let’s roast the marshmallows.” The young woman sings as she places marshmallows at the end of two long sticks. The child’s eyes light up with delight.
Once finished with the marshmallows, the young woman stands and holds out her hands.
“Let’s dance.” She takes both the child’s hands in hers. They move around the room laughing. My heart swells with a sea of tears.
“Crash!” The sound deafening. My eyes shoot towards the noise. Glass clatters to the ground from the bay window. A black ball darts across the room at the speed of light. The ball lands feet before the woman and child.
The woman holds the child firmly to her chest, the child’s face buried into her soft blue sweater.
The ball rolls to a stop. Jet long black hair covers the top of the ball. Pearly white eyes stare blankly. The mouth is open in a silent scream. Blood pools from where the neck used to be.
The child whimpers loudly. Her sobs add to my own terror.
The woman looks directly towards me. Her eyes lock onto mine.
“Dark one’s,” she whispers.

***
I snap back to reality. My mind is jumbled. My thoughts scattered. I’m utterly confused. A queasy feeling takes root in the pit of my stomach. The static in the room is not helping any. My stomach churns and my head pounds. My ears ring.
I jump out of my seat, knocking the table over in the process. I bolt for the door. Vomit rises in my throat.
After emptying the contents of my stomach, I sit on the toilet floor, my head buried in my hands.
Was that a memory? Or my overactive mind? It came out of nowhere.
With a heavy heart and the humiliation of yet another class, I walk out of the school building. Tears run freely from my tired eyes.
I bump into Sarah, or more like she stands in my path blocking my way. I try to step around her. She steps in my way again. Her eyes glow with hate and disapproval.
“I heard your mother killed herself and tried killing you with her. She couldn’t live knowing that she had created a monster, we have all heard the rumours,” she taunts, her words hurtful, like a knife slicing my heart. My cheeks burn as anger rises. My hands clench into fists at my side.
“She didn’t want you. She didn’t want anyone to know what she had created so she hid you.”
That is not true. I hope it is not. A part of me believes her. My anger rises more. I see red. I’m angry for believing her, even if it is just a little. Mad that she would say these things. The wind picks up, blowing my hair wildly around me.
“Look at you, you’re just a freak, you don’t belong here, we don’t want you here, just like your mother didn’t want you. Too bad she failed in ending you.” The smile on her face is cruel and twisted. The wind increases, the temperature drops. My breath forms clouds of steam as I take deep irregular breaths. The static returns along with a slight vibration under my feet. I step towards Sarah, who now looks at me in horror.
“How dare you talk about my mom?” I scream. Plant pots fly, carried by the abnormal wind.
“Kay, stop!” I recognize the voice, Chris, who infuriates me more.
How dare he protect this evil bitch?
Sarah recoils back. A burning sensation rise inside my body. My hands shake. The wind whips around me, biting into my skin. Dirt, plants, and other small objects spin around me in a circle, creating a small twister.
Instinct tells me to put my hand out, palm facing up. I slowly raise my arm when a hand firmly holds onto my wrist. An electrical current runs up my arm, starting from the large scar on my palm. The current stops at my heart but leaves a slight vibration and tingling sensation. The static increases to an alarming rate.
The situation is spiralling out of control, like a tornado picking up speed and power before unleashing its fury.
I try to pull my arm free. Without warning I kick and claw at Chris, making contact a dozen times. He does not budge or let go, he places his hands on my shoulders and forces me to look at him. My anger quickly disappears, turning into shame. He shows compassion and sympathy in his eyes. His face is soft and caring, like he has dropped his shield, giving me a peek into his heart.
“She is not worth it,” he whispers, dropping his hands. My skin is hot where he has been touching me. Looking around, I notice the wind has stopped and a crowd of students have gathered.
“Some people are like clouds; when they go away it is a better day. “Sarah’s words cut deep.
I bolt. Clara will be so disappointed in me.
For hours I wonder around the unfamiliar village, not knowing where I’m going, but not caring. So much has happened within the last few days. My mind is a mess. I don’t know what is real and what is not anymore.
My heart swells with a sea of tears for my mom - who I cannot remember, for Clara and David - who I miss dearly, for myself, and for the life that I have just been thrown into. My hope is a fragile seed, the hope of getting to my eighteenth birthday with my insanity intact. Hope to return to Clara and David. Even if I can return, I would return a different girl. The last few days have changed me in ways I never thought possible.
I avoid my grandmother like the plague. I sit in my room, reading a book I found from the large library within the house. The book is about dreams, a bit like the one I lost in the bookshop back home.
“Dreams are an impression of the soul. Events from your past, day to day life, thoughts, and feelings, all connect to your dreams. If you think dreadful things will happen, then your mind and soul will reflect this in your dreams. Think happy thoughts, look for the rainbow.” Yeah, this book is not helping any.
When James arrives, I refuse to go down and take part in another exercise. Although I have seen for myself the powers I possess, still I find it hard to believe, or I just do not want to believe.
Life does not have any hands, but it can sure give you a slap sometimes. I feel like I have been slapped, punched, and kicked until my body is numb with pain.
My life as changed dramatically. Who would have thought that one innocent trip to the mall would result in me being here, surrounded by supernatural people?
If I could go back to my old life I would in a heartbeat. I miss Clara and David terribly. My phone calls to them are short. I have never lied to them. Okay, I have told them little lies. But it always made me feel uncomfortable. Plus, I was always ashamed of myself for weeks.
What can I tell them? My life here sucks. I don’t want them to think I am happy here as I don’t want them to feel as though they have been replaced. I also don’t want to tell them that I am not happy here, as I don’t want them to worry. There is nothing they can do to help me anyway. In the eyes of the law, I am a minor, and the law gets to decide where I stay and with whom I can live.