Shadow's Dangers (10 page)

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Authors: Cindy Mezni

BOOK: Shadow's Dangers
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I slowly recovered my breath and my calm. The tears began to flow. I was too tired to try to stop them or wipe them away. My mind was playing tricks on me again. Because it couldn’t be anything else, could it? Why on earth would a dog and a bird want to attack me, if it wasn’t that? No, this scene worthy of
“The
Birds,”
could only be a figment of my imagination. The respite didn’t last long. I might not be asleep experiencing nightmares, but I was certainly still plagued. Now, visions occurred when I was fully conscious. I hurried upstairs and locked myself in my room. I got under my blankets, my nose buried in my pillow, while my tears became increasingly violent. Eager to escape reality, the one where my sick mind was playing me, I gladly let sleep have its way.

***

I slammed the door of the house. I looked tired and had dark circles under my eyes and a pale complexion. Annabelle didn’t fail to make remarks about my looks, of course. I was so exhausted I couldn’t even feel angry with her. My mind was flooded with images of yesterday. The memories of my misadventure straight out of a Hitchcock movie never left me. I still didn’t understand what happened. Was I dreaming? Was I crazy? And if all this was real, why had these animals acted so strangely?

Even though I knew what was happening and whether true or not, I feared it would happen again. Throughout the journey to school, I constantly turned around to see if any animal was following me. The slightest rustle of leaves made me jump. I became paranoid.

As soon as I arrived in front of the old school building, Hayden was there, in front of me. She wore a severe expression.

“I called you yesterday. Several times,” she insisted with a voice that showed signs of annoyance. “Can you tell me why you didn’t answer?”

Since the death of Tess, she was accustomed to calling me at least once a day, when we didn’t plan to see each other for the day. I was too obsessed with what happened yesterday to worry about her anger.

She let out a weary sigh.

She stared at me insistently. “What is this?” she pointed out my dark circles with her fingertips.

I recoiled at her touch.

“I slept badly last night.”

“No, you think?”

I rolled my eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed by her words. I didn’t need to be reminded that I looked bad today. I knew and Annabelle had already pointed it out to me.

“Spell it out for me,” she said, looking almost desperate, throwing her hands in the air to encourage me to continue. “Go on. Why do you look like a mess?”

So kind of her...
I took a deep breath.

“I didn’t have much sleep because it was a bad night. That’s all,” I cut her off quietly.

It wasn’t necessary to tell her that I had my usual horrific nightmares but this time, I was attacked by a black dog--not a monstrous black beast--and thereafter, a raven came to rest on my body and started to feed on my eyeballs. If she knew she would immediately call the psychiatric hospital in Anchorage for me. Even I almost took the initiative of my own confinement.

“Nightmare?” she asked, clearly having misunderstood the reason for my insomnia.

She must have thought it had something to do with Tess. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with her death and I didn’t really know what was happening. And it scared me. Completely.

“Nightmare,” I nodded, relieved to escape her questioning. “And you, your weekend?” I added, seizing the opportunity not to return to the reason for my lack of rest.

Hayden was a great person. She cared about her friends and did everything for them. But when you gave her the opportunity to talk about herself, she didn’t have to be asked twice.

Today, despite my invitation, she seemed reluctant to talk about herself. In fact, she seemed very... anxious. Why? She shook her head as if to get a crazy idea out her mind and resumed her customary jovial mask. I didn’t question myself about her unusual behavior. Mood swings happened to everyone. I was well placed to know.

“Andrew made his show as usual. Insanities and other small things like that. I think, no, I am sure that it was better when he was miles away from me. Fortunately, he ran away from home for a long time yesterday because he had to see a friend,” she confided with her eyebrows raised explicitly.

I would have laughed at her attitude if something hadn’t turned in my mind as an alarm signal. It was obvious! How could I not make the connection? But I still prefer to be sure before sharing with my friend some bullshit theories about the life of her brother.

“At which time has he “escaped,” as you say?” I questioned her, nonchalantly.

“The morning. Up to fourteen hours approximately.”

So I was right.

“Your brother and my sister...they resumed their
relationship
,” I told Hayden with a disgusted grimace.

Her eyes widened to the extreme to my revelation and an expression of disgust appeared on her face.

“Ugh!” we said in chorus.

Her laughter mingled with mine. Apparently, the idea that our families could mix inspired the same horror in us both.

“It’s so much better if they escape together. The more they are together, the less they are at home. And that’s a good thing.”

We were in agreement on this point. Hayden offered me her hand, a bright smile on her face. I offered mine and our fists clashed while our laughter joined again. The day started badly but it was on track to finish well.

That day seemed even better to me when hours later, Hayden gave me a sheet of paper folded in fourths.

“Est-ce que quelqu’un connaît le nom de l’auteur?”
(Does anyone know the author’s name?)
Mr. Dubois asked in French, turning away from the blackboard while I unfolded the paper to discover Hayden’s writing.

Listening to the professor with half an ear, I concentrated on her words. She obviously let herself write an entire novel. When I finished reading, I turned my attention to the girl I saw as a sister. She seemed more than excited. So this was the reason for the strange expression I had glimpsed on her face this morning. She sincerely believed that it would hurt me if she went out on Friday with Spencer? On the contrary! If they began dating, I would be ecstatic. She deserved more than anyone else to be happy and have someone good by her side. Spencer was a nice guy even though I never wanted to go out with him, which was not his fault, but mine only. I smiled and mouthed a silent but enthusiastic “awesome.” She sighed, relieved and returned my smile.

“Miss Morgan, since you seem to want to talk so much, maybe you could give us the answer?”

I turned as white as a sheet.
The one time I’m distracted, I have to get caught, of course.
I felt all eyes on me while I just wanted to be left in peace and in this case, that everyone would stop looking me. I read the lines drawn in chalk on the blackboard in front of me. Why did all the teachers have illegible handwriting?

“Uh... Could you repeat the question?” I asked, cursing myself for my trembling voice.

This was the question that always played. The one who asked it was a fool and every time, caused the muffled laughter of several students, if not whole class. In this case, I could perceive a few chuckles. Imperceptibly, I settled down in my chair while feeling the guilty look of Hayden on me.

“Who is the author of these words, Miss Morgan?” Mr. Dubois repeated articulating each syllable as if I were stupid.

That must be the case,
I thought, annoyed. I reread the words before me and replied hesitantly:

“This is a poem by Charles Baudelaire?”

Was I the only one to notice that my answer sounded more like a question than anything else? The professor stared at me, looking unfathomable.

“Excellent, Miss Morgan,” he decreed with a mournful tone that contrasted his words. “I see that some people in this class have a culture that goes beyond the borders of our country. It’s reassuring.”

He turned to the blackboard to write the name of the poet. The bell rang at that moment. The class emptied fast, students hurrying to leave the French course that had transformed into a literature course, without knowing how. I put away all my stuff in a hurry while the rain beat down forcefully on the windows, like the sound of nails driven in with a hammer. One of them was ajar and a mournful howl rang. I jumped, even though it was only the wind. I looked outside. The sky was dark and threatening. I hastened to go in the hallway teeming with dozens of students. I would have a hard time getting home and making sure to get there in one piece, without catching pneumonia or without my school bag getting soaked.

Hayden quickly caught me while I was still standing in front of one of the doors that opened to the outside, where the storm was raging.

“It’s a dog time,” she remarked.

A shiver of fear ran through me. I wouldn’t be able to walk home. That was certain. I refused to take the risk of crossing the beast or another animal, even if the whole thing was just a figment of my imagination. I would stay cloistered here and wait until the weather improved. Then I would go home, hoping no strange event would occur this time.

“How are you going to get home?” Hayden inquired, concerned.

“I’ll call Annabelle, a little later. It won’t kill me to wait here an hour,” I said, morose at the thought of having to call my sister later if the weather didn’t get better.

It’s not the waiting that will kill me, it’s my sister.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I assured my friend. “It will be okay.”

“You can come with me if you want. It won’t be a problem.”

Normally, I would have loved Ms. Mayer being sweet with me and the atmosphere of my friend’s home was much warmer than mine. Unfortunately, now it was no longer possible.

“Sorry, but with the return of your brother, I think I’d rather wait here than hear his... comments.”

She took on an embarrassed expression and nodded.

“Indeed, from that point of view, I also think it would be better.”

“Thank you for having invited me anyway,” I said, touched by the delicate attention.

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling. “Moreover, it’s I who should thank you.”

I understood what she meant by remembering the words on the paper she had passed me during French.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I told her. “You don’t have to ask for my opinion. I’m happy for you. You deserve to have someone by your side. And Spencer is a good guy.”

“Yes,” she agreed, seeming elsewhere.

I smiled. She was about to fall in love with him, no doubt about it. I briefly wondered how long she and Spencer had interest in each other. Certainly during the last three or four weeks, when Spencer had stopped hovering around me.

“So,” she said, smiling and determined, “I’m going to have to team up with Leighton so we can pair you with her...” Her face sagged when she realized that it was impossible. “Shit! I forgot.”

I looked down, a wave of resentment engulfing me just by hearing her name. I avoided thinking about it and I had succeeded pretty well, until now. But Leighton was gone and it was hurtful to think that she didn’t tell us anything when she pretended to be our friend. I started to sincerely become attached to her and so did Hayden.

“Sorry,” apologized Hayden, sadly.

There was no reason to be. I wasn’t the only one to suffer from this situation. She had suffered from this “treason” too. Although it wasn’t my habit, not being a touchy-feely kind of person, I put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her against me. She didn’t fight. I was the oldest, and therefore I considered Hayden as my little sister. And I could not bear to tell myself that I couldn’t protect and prevent her from suffering. Ever Hodgins, the departure of her father, the sadness of her mother because of the departure of the latter, and now Leighton... She didn’t deserve all that. She deserved to be happy.

“It’s nothing. Maybe she had a reason to leave and she didn’t have time to tell us. Perhaps she’ll come back.”

Hayden raised her misty eyes in my direction. I felt my heart sink.

“Do you really believe what you just said?” she asked softly.

No. Not at all. But I wouldn’t tell her and deprive her of the hope she had. I couldn’t believe in anything, since the death of Tess. Unlike me, Hayden always had faith in the future. Maybe she could have enough hope for both of us...

“Yes,” I lied with conviction, hoping that for once, my lies worked.

“I...” she began until a horn sounded outside. “Dammit! My mother! I had completely forgotten. You sure you don’t want to come with us? Maybe she can drive you home.”

“You live in the opposite direction from me and if you drive me home, on the return, you would end up stuck on the road for sure. It’s better you go now. Don’t worry, I’ll wait here and go home later.”

She shook her head before plating a loud kiss on my cheek and went running into the pouring rain. I sat on the floor, back against the wall of the hallway, staring outside.
The wait would be long...

***

The dog began to shake me in all directions. I felt my jacket being torn by the force of his jaw. My eyes were drowned in those of the animal. Black as darkness. Black as death.
My death.
I felt fear flood me. And without warning, his mouth plunged on my neck. He began to tear through the skin, but while I wanted to scream my pain, cries remained stuck in my throat. I remained silent facing the horror.

“Deliah? Deliah? Can you hear me?” I heard someone say in an anxious voice.

I suffered so much. It was awful! Why didn’t this person help me? I really wanted to beg him to help me! But it was in vain. No sound managed to escape my lips.

“Wake up.”

Someone shook me again and again. The dog? I was no longer sure but I was going to die very soon. With so much pain, I couldn’t stay alive much longer.

“Deliah!” exclaimed the voice, this time forward, with a hint of irritation.

Suddenly my eyes were opened. It took me some time to get used to the darkness of the room and the sudden stop of the pain. I looked around me. No dog or any other animal. I put my hand on my throat and noticed that there was not any gaping wound. I lifted my face and met a gaze. Surprised and shocked, I recoiled. My head hit the wall. I let out a complaint.

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