Authors: Tamara Hart Heiner
“We’re almost gone,” Gabby said. Now that her hairnet was off, I saw a streak of electric blue in her short brown bob. “Don’t ask twice, Jayne. Just get out as fast as you can.”
I followed her. “Where are you parked?”
She jerked her head behind the restaurant. “Out back. Aren’t you?”
“Oh.” I inclined my head in a similar manner. “In the front.”
“Employees aren’t allowed to park there. See ya later.” She walked out before I could say another word.
“Thanks,” I muttered to myself, stepping into the parking lot. “Would’ve been nice to know earlier.”
I clutched my car keys in one hand and my bag in the other. Mine was the only car in the lot. Large overhead lights flooded the parking lot, which helped to ease some of my disquiet. I hated being in dark shadows.
I bent over the door handle of my old white Honda and turned the key in the lock. A car pulled up behind me, and I whirled around, feeling my eyes widen in surprise. The girl in the driver’s seat met my eyes a second before she rolled down the window.
“Excuse me,” she began, but I was already gone, swept away in the vision that came before her citrusy perfume ever reached me.
Hannah doesn’t move from where she lays in the alley. The cold air pricks at her skin, but she is numb. Flashing neon lights from a dance club paint the gray walls blue and then red, over and over again, like the lights from a police cruiser. She stopped fighting against the gag in her mouth ages ago, and now she just stares at the man hovering above her. His brown eyes sink into the pock-marked face, and a pink tongue wiggles inside his mouth as he concentrates. A long scar gouges the right side of his jaw and neck.
He’s going to kill me.
Hannah closes her eyes for a moment, heavy regret nearly crushing her. Not from death itself, which is hardly as frightening at this moment as it was an hour ago. Regret for the pain her mother will feel when she finds out how Hannah died.
His hands move away from her body, and Hannah opens her eyes. He grips a knife in his gloved hand, and it moves like lightning against her neck. Hannah doesn’t even have a chance to gasp against her gag before the world fades into blackness.
The vision left me and I sank to the ground, burying my face in my hands and trembling.
“Hey, are you okay?” Hannah climbed out of her car and bent over me, her hands on my shoulders.
“No. No.” I reached up and gripped her hands, seeing the concerned expression on this young girl’s face, only a few years older than me. “Hannah! Don’t go near the night club! Don’t be alone at night, don’t trust anyone! Promise me!”
She stepped away from me, suspicion replacing her concern. “Do I know you?”
“No.” I sobbed into my hands, unable to face her again. I didn’t know what else to tell her. She wouldn’t believe me. I shook with the trauma of what I’d Seen.
I heard her footsteps on the pavement, and then the car door shut and it revved away. Whatever she’d wanted, she decided it wasn’t worth asking the crazy lady. Crazy Jayne.
I forced myself to my feet and climbed into my car. I banged my hand down on the lock and sat there for a moment, scared out of my wits. I had never Seen a murder before. Accidents, even suicides. But never a homicide. I knew I’d have nightmares tonight.
Halfway through my left-hand turn out of JT’s, I saw
her
, standing in front of a closed beauty salon as if waiting for a bus. On sudden impulse, I yanked my car over to the side of the road. I got out, slamming the door behind me.
She turned her head, tracking my movement. The white dress clung to her lithe body, the blond hair loose around her shoulders.
I was not about to let her unnerve me. “Who are you?” I shouted. My hands curled into fists and I stopped ten feet from her. “Why is this happening? I know you have something to do with it!”
She lifted her eyes to mine, a deep dark blue, and stared at me. I stared back, waiting for answers, a revelation, something. Nothing came.
I screeched in frustration and pulled at my hair. “I can’t deal with this anymore!” A sob wracked my body, and I pressed my hands into my face.
“De-claw.”
The word whispered into my ears, driven by the soft breeze blowing the night air. It wasn’t quite “de-claw,” but that was the closest word I could come up with. I dropped my hands and looked at her. She was gone, of course.
De-claw? How was that ambiguous hint supposed to help me?
My hands shook with pent up anger and fear, and it took me three tries to get the car door open. De-claw? What on earth...?
I pulled my car into the drive at home, surprised at how quickly I’d arrived. My hands still trembled around the steering wheel and the silence invaded the car. I hadn’t even thought to turn the radio on. I pulled my phone out and scanned through Dana’s messages, no longer mad at my best friend.
6:03 p.m.: sry I ditched you. R u mad at me?
6:14 p.m.: r you there? Call me, plz
6:16 p.m.: W8, ur at work, huh? Call me when you can! K?
7:19 p.m.: Just thinking about u. R u mad @ me? At least txt back.
9:40 p.m.: Was just watching celebrity apprentice. Reminded me of that science project we did. LOL call me! XD
10:03 p.m.: Call, I don’t care how l8 it is. U got me worried. :/
I scrolled through the six messages, then shouldered my bag and hurried up the porch steps. The bushes swayed in the breeze and I jumped. My nervous fingers dropped the keys twice before I got the door open. I slipped inside, locked the door, and leaned against it, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
I was about to open my bedroom door when I noticed the light creeping out from under it. I frowned, glancing at my wristwatch even though I knew the time. Almost eleven. I doubted my mom would be hanging out in my room at this hour. Which meant it had to be my sister.
I pushed open the door and Beth whirled around, turquoise taffeta up to her chin.
“What are you doing here, Beth?” The sight of her brought such a strong feeling of irrational fear that it overshadowed the darkness in my heart. I cast my eyes about, searching for some place to look besides at my little sister. If Seeing Hannah unnerved me, Seeing my sister would be so much worse. I walked to my vanity and fluffed my hair in the reflection, feigning nonchalance.
“Oh, Jayne!” Her breathy voice came out sounding a bit guilty. “I just wanted to try on your prom dress. Since, you know, you’re not going now. Right?”
Prom. The word brought a bit of normalcy to my reality. I allowed the feelings of hurt and embarrassment to push out my fear and unease. This was to be my first year at prom, and I had splurged three-hundred dollars on the heavily layered turquoise dress. And yes, I wasn’t going. I had made that very clear to Stephen this afternoon.
“Nice, Beth. Thanks for rubbing it in.” It was a shame I hadn’t been able to keep the break-up from my family. “You’ve tried it on. Now take it off.”
The dress rustled and shook as Beth heaved it up over her head. “I’m stuck, Jayne. Help?”
I risked a cautious glance at her. Beth’s head was completely swallowed up in lace, only her two arms poking above the fabric. Suppressing a smile, I stepped to her and tugged on the dress, averting my eyes before her head emerged. “There. Now go to bed.” Whew. Yet another day that I’d averted disaster.
“Jayne?” Beth’s voice came out soft and meek. “Can I talk to you?”
I groaned inwardly. I yanked open my candle drawer on the vanity and pulled out the Sweet Pea scented one. It wouldn’t be very effective with Beth in the room, leaving her lemon musk everywhere. But I had to try. My fingers shook as I lit the wick. The longer she stayed in here, the more likely that I would accidentally make eye contact. “What?”
She bounded over and lay down on my bed. She kept her long brown hair straight, and it fell around my pillow, which she grabbed up and hugged in front of her. “I like a guy at school.”
“Beth, it’s late. Do we have to talk now?” I glanced at my watch, hoping she’d get the hint.
She stuck out her lower lip. “We never talk, Jayne. You used to tell me everything.”
I didn’t need a guilt trip. Not now. I flipped off the light and climbed into bed next to her. My head pounded and I wanted to smother myself with the pillow. “Then talk, Beth. But I’m tired. Don’t expect me to stay awake.”
Beth broke into a happy babble, which I listened to in a half-daze. Memories of my vision with Hannah floated in and out of my head. Tomorrow I would write it down in my file, where I kept of list of all the people I’d Seen and what happened to them.
My eyes burned and I shut them. Beth’s voice droned on, but my mind was elsewhere.
Declare.
My eyes snapped open and I stared at the darkened ceiling above me. Was that what she meant? Declare? Declare what? I already tried to tell people how they were going to die, and it never accomplished anything.
My brain felt thick and mushy, and I gave up. Tomorrow I’d think on this.
“
J
ayne!”
Someone shook my arm. I recognized Beth's voice in time to squeeze my eyes tighter. My breathing quickened, and I fought off an anxiety attack.
Don’t look, don’t look.
“What, Beth?”
“You’ll be late for school, Jayne!”
I could smell her so clearly, lying in bed next to me. It was like fate mocked me, tempted me to open my eyes.
I flailed out with my hands and stumbled off the bed. Only when I knew she was behind me did I blink, exhaling and picking through the clothes on my floor. “Then go get ready, Beth. You take longer than me.”
She flounced out of my room. Her hair had regained its natural wave during the night, and it bounced around her shoulders.
Just like mine.
A knot formed in my chest. I couldn’t avoid her eyes forever, and one of these days I would See her death. How could I prepare myself?
I got Beth to school on time, but not myself. The tardy bell rang as I jerked open my locker. I muttered self-deprecating insults and ran through the empty halls.
Luckily, Mr. Livingston was my first period teacher. He glanced from the board at me when I walked in, then turned around, saying only, “
Cierra la puerta
, Jayne.”
I closed the door quietly, feeling a great sense of relief. He wouldn’t count me tardy. I put my head on my desk and rested my eyes. They burned with desire to sleep. I had relived Hannah’s murder over and over again in my dreams.
I didn’t see Dana until second hour in calculus. I sank into my chair at the desk we shared and gave her a meek smile, just to let her know I wasn’t mad, and then I threw myself into my assignment. Horrible images of Hannah’s murder haunted me. I pressed my hand to my forehead.
My phone vibrated in my backpack pocket. I glanced down, pulling it out just enough to scan it. Dana’s text read, “u OK?”
I looked at her and gave her a bleak smile. “Yeah,” I mouthed.
She texted again. “What happened w SH?”
Stephen Harris. I forgot that I hadn’t even told her. I leaned over, pretending like I was fishing for a pencil, and texted back, “Talk @ lunch.”
Dana gave me a quick hug as soon as class was done. “Gotta go. If I’m late for gym one more time, I’ll have detention for a week. I’ll tell you at lunch all about that new kid in my stats class!”
Aaron. “Sure.” I pasted a smile on my face while Aaron’s face threw itself into the jumbled crockpot of my mind. Yesterday after he asked me out, I’d planned how I’d pump Dana all about him: how did he act, was he flirtatious or quiet, did he seem sincere or like a player, smart or silly?
But after last night, I just couldn’t rouse the excitement to feel anything. My emotions were drained. I didn’t feel like spending the next hour trying to avoid seeing Aaron’s death.
There was no way I could skip English class again. I waited in the classroom like a wallflower, not sure where to sit so I could avoid Aaron. I watched the girls huddle around each other and giggle while the boys stood around flexing their muscles. I’m sure they thought the girls were watching them, but I saw the surreptitious glances the female posse shot toward the open door.