Betrayal (6 page)

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Authors: Mayandree Michel

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Betrayal
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“Daddy, start the car. I want to go home. Please... just take us home” I said, in a desperate whisper. But dad heard nothing, just mom’s sniffles and heart tugging moans.

Dad’s hands shook as he clutched the steering wheel, bowed his head, and cried. He bawled shamelessly. Mom reached over to embrace him, and they remained like that, in an unbreakable hold, while the van taking my body away edged into traffic.

How will my parents survive without me?

I had too many questions that were never going to be answered.

For one, how can I be dead when I’ve hardly lived?

“I won’t get to graduate.” I said, in a whisper to myself. My plans of getting as far away as I could from this old, dusty, desert town had perished with my last breath. I would be buried here.

I’ve never been in love, and my recurring dream didn’t count. The mini crushes which never developed into what I wished for – endless love, didn’t count. The tally was dismal. More than anything, I wanted to fall in love, be in love, and have love reciprocated, at least once. I wanted to be kissed by someone special, someone that I couldn’t breathe without, who cherished me. I’d only been on a couple of dates, which were forgettable. I can’t accept dying without falling in love, an unfathomable injustice.

The coroner’s siren wailed, and I plunged back into my new reality, my body being hauled to the morgue. C Street had been blocked off on one side at the corner of Union Street so that the traffic could flow through the main street. Many remained at the scene, and didn’t seem to mind getting wet in order to see it all; tourist and residents alike. One of the deputies directed them back to their jobs, back into the luncheonettes, and back to whatever they had been doing before tragedy struck this diminutive town.

I spotted my boss, well former boss, Mr. Clarkson, as he shielded his grief stricken face. I would miss him. I recognized quite a few kids from school that I knew, although not very well, sprinkled throughout the mob. A few of them had weekend jobs on the main street as I had. I wasn’t by far the most popular kid at Nickel City High, yet they all looked dazed and miserable at the loss of a fellow student. The revelation of my death seemed to age my classmates. So many identifiable faces gawked at the ambulance as it skirted away from the curbside.

Then it dawned on me.

Amongst all those faces, I hadn’t seen Bethany’s. From where I sat in the backseat of my parents’ car, I scanned the crowd for her honey blond hair, piled high at the crown of her head, but she was nowhere in sight. She toiled away, happily I might add, every weekend at the Victorian Outfitter, the costume rental shop, which was only a few streets down on the main street. I’m certain by now, she would have heard about the accident. We had planned to meet after work. Had she not come to work today? Surely Bethany must know what happened to me. Everyone else seemed aware.

The entire town of Nickel City had crowded around to speculate. Fortunately, unexplainable things like this didn’t happen often here. Fatalities usually occurred by natural causes, old age, or terminal illnesses. My end was considered bizarre and unforeseen. I imagined the headlines in tomorrow’s edition of
The Territorial Enterprise
, “Tetherson Girl Mowed Down by Phantom Jeep”

I overheard several people who witnessed the accident say that the jeep disappeared right after hitting me at the corner of Union Street. They seemed to agree that it vanished at some point between the corner of Union Street and Taylor Street. Vehicles don’t just disappear. Countless bystanders remarked on how implausibly odd my accident was, and how it reminded them of some of the strange and old folklore they had heard passed down from generation to generation. They noted ancient stories dating as far back as over a hundred years ago. They spoke in hushed tones about inconceivable accounts, including bizarre deaths, disappearances, unproven hauntings, and gruesome attacks by unknown entities. I hardly thought a hit and run could compare to some of the ghosts stories they rambled about. But only one question clotted my head.

How had that mysterious guy been ogling me from the curb one second then running me over the next?

Had I been so overcome by the mysterious guy’s beauty that I saw him everywhere? Had he been a hallucination? No, not at all. But no one could be in two places at once. It was as if he had become someone else when he floored that jeep. The splendor of his eyes had altered, from cool chrome to searing scarlet, ominous and lethal.

As I sat there in the backseat of my parents’ car completely dumbfounded, I saw my father twist the key in the ignition, and felt the juddering of the car's engine coming to life.

Then I felt something else entirely.

Heat. Extreme heat roasting the right side my face as if the sun was just inches away. Although the rain had subsided, the sun’s corona was eclipsed by the leaden clouds that continued to battle brutally against one another. What felt like a blaze against my cheek, was hot enough to scorch metal. If I wasn’t a ghost right now, and had skin, I was certain I would have melted away into the car’s upholstery. My parents seemed totally unaffected, oblivious to the microwave we were sitting in. I turned in the direction of where the heat seemed to originate from as it gradually intensified.

My eyes fell directly on the mysterious guy that had somehow been in two places at the same time. He stood about four feet away from the car door closest to where I sat. The heat seemed to radiate from his eyes which burned like glowing coals. I've seen eyes like that before, and shuddered remembering. The mysterious guy’s eyes were hungry like the wolves that haunted me every night for the last two weeks of my life. His expression took on a hideous gargoyle’s scowl, but some of the beauty still remained making his face ghastly like a disfigured angel’s face. But the longer I stared at him; his facial features became more twisted. The thick eyebrows that had once framed his handsome face were severely arched forming a unibrow that started at his hair line, and connected at the bridge of his pug nose and flared nostrils. His fleshy lips curled downward at either end, and contorted. His face looked like it hurt to look that revolting, dragon like. He glowered at me, and I gasped.

Can he actually see me?

Was he looking through me like a window, and at someone or something else? Instinctively, I turned around and examined what was directly behind me. Nothing, but pedestrians. He was definitely glaring at me with pure evil intentions. I felt the frantic urge to jump out of the car, right through the window, if I had to. He glided towards me as if on wheels, all the while never taking his glowing ruby eyes off me.

As if on cue, my dad eased the car forward into traffic, directly behind the ambulance. By doing so, the gargoyle faced guy halted. I turned around, and faced him through the back window. His penetrating eyes fastened on mine as he watched our car wedge deeper into the steady flow of traffic. He drifted slowly down the street in the same direction our car headed, but stayed about a car’s length behind. He never broke his unwavering stare.

Thinking for a split second that it was safe to, I allowed a sigh of relief to escape my lips. Then it happened, and I was proven wrong. Safety couldn’t be more out of reach. A current of fear shook through me as he appeared. Floating right outside the car window, he threw his head back so far that his neck
should
have snapped, but didn’t. Then he jerked his head forward with his mouth opened wider than any mouth could naturally stretch open. It looked as if his upper lip and lower lip were being pulled apart. He let out a malicious and deafening roar, causing my dad to nearly lose control of our car. My dad wasn’t the only driver who fought to regain control of their vehicle as pretty much every other car on the road swerved in every direction from the shock of the unexpected growl.

Instantaneously, everyone strolling down the sidewalks as well as those who had returned to their shopping in the shops cupped their hands over their ears to ward of the piercing sound. The roar seemed to go on forever, drowning the residual raucous of the thunder. The earsplitting cry shattered every glass window on the main street into millions of pieces. Whether it was a car or shop window, a traffic light or vintage light post, every piece of glass was cracked or completely busted and blown out. It appeared as if a bomb loaded with enough C4 to wipe out ten city blocks had gone off.

I braced myself, cringing in acute fear as I turned once again to face the gargoyle faced guy. Suddenly the shadows that hovered on the walls of the buildings directly behind the gruesome guy became indistinct shapes. The shadows seemed to come to life and slid off the building walls. They crept up as slow as molasses, inching across a china plate. The sinister shaped shadows swarmed together forming the shape of a giant man. The massive silhouette’s flickering cape brought back the horrid memory of that inexplicable night when electrical currents flowed through my veins like blood.

Great, I thought. The gargoyle guy didn’t work alone. The evil shadow has come for me again. Maybe they were here to take me to hell. This was it. But what had I done to merit an eternity in hell?

The ghastly faced guy glowered down at me. He must have read the feared expression on my face as I stared up at the looming shadow and its cape flickering violently like a flame fighting to survive against a harsh gust of wind. The guy turned around to face the huge figure that lowered its head and shoulders over him. Suddenly, curling flames shot out of the guy’s mouth as if he’d swallowed a lit torch. He leapt backwards as if he hadn’t expected the shadow to be there.

I detected that it was dread washing over the guys face, bringing his features back to their gorgeous state. His black shirt melted, disappearing into his pale white skin like an
Oreo
cookie drowning in a glass of milk. Not a second had past when he spread his brawny arms out wide at his sides.

With a loud snap like a sail flapping forcefully in protest of harsh winds, massive reptile like webbed wings sprouted from beneath his arms. He soared into the dismal gray sky like a hawk. He was gone, and with his departure, so was the creepy shadow.

My eyes darted all over C Street. Every vehicle had stopped. Every driver and passenger stood outside of their vehicle inspecting the damage to their windshields and windows in utter disbelief. Every window was shattered completely or partially blown out. People were trickling out of the shops appearing alarmed and dazed. Groups of tourists watched the chaos in the street from the balconies of the saloons, restaurants, and bed and breakfasts.

There was no way of making any sense of the destruction.

I kept hearing the same word thrown around.

“This is so
bizarre
… every window smashed.”

“How
bizarre
….the piercing sound hurt my ears.”

“How could this be… it’s
bizarre
.”

The word was at the tip of everyone’s tongue. But no one mentioned seeing a guy dressed in all black with a horrid gargoyle’s face and penetrating demonic ruby eyes. No one saw a man fly into the sky with wings of a dragon. Not even my parents. Was he also a figment of my imagination? Was he a ghost like me? His dragon like wings made me think of some sort of dark angel. Either way I seemed to be the only one who had
seen
him although everyone had positively
heard
him.

I turned to face my parents, whom had opted to stay in the car.

“How bizarre.” My mom said, carefully brushing the shards of the windshield off the dashboard, off her lap, and out of her hair.

“Yes, bizarre.” My dad said. “Let’s go.” Dad started the car again, and swerved around a couple of vehicles. Then he mounted onto the curb, scaring a few tourists, and made a right turn onto Taylor Street. Dad headed to the morgue, averting the madness erupting on the main street.

Throughout all the commotion, he hadn’t forgotten the business of identifying his only daughter’s dead body.

Five

Trusting Liars

Upon my parents return home from the heartbreaking endeavor of identifying me at the morgue, they broke down all over again. Thunder resounded lightly after a second shower finally tapered off into a mist. Surprisingly, the sun made an encore appearance. There was nothing left for me to do now but roam our tiny home.

Would that be considered haunting it?

I spent the remainder of the afternoon following my parents around, listening to the warm breeze flood the house since my parents barely spoke to each other. Mom stayed in my bedroom clutching my favorite stuffed animal, and weeping and rocking back in forth on my bed like a helpless child.

Dad exiled himself to their bedroom, and sat at the edge of the bed gazing out the window at the Sierras, as if the mountain range could somehow make sense of his loss. There would be no dinner prepared tonight as puffs of orange cotton candy spread across the sky, and the punishable sun slid low behind the mountains. My parents remained in their respective spots. I hung out in the living room for a while feeling despondent.

I reminisced while eyeing the few scattered photos of me framed on the fireplace mantle and those held by quirky magnets on the refrigerator door, trying to relive the moments in the pictures. Thanks to my parents who notoriously forgot to bring along a camera to all my special events, there weren’t many photographs of me. I took a closer look, scrutinizing each picture, and noticed that something was happening to me – in the photos. I appeared to be fading away, literally
disappearing
from the photos, all of them in fact. I appeared vapor –like, ghostly. Whatever was directly behind me in the pictures, whether it was a tree or another person could be seen right through my smiling image. Why was I vanishing from all of our pictures? It was as if I was being erased. Maybe it was because I was dead, and it’s how I saw myself. A tremor ran through what was left of me as I recognized the emotions I still experienced while lifeless.

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