Something Wicked

Chapter 1

I was asleep, lost in peaceful nothingness, as the thought clawed its way up and out of my brain and forced my eyes open.

Something’s coming.

I frowned up at my unlit ceiling and struggled to wake up to understand what was so important it couldn’t wait until morning.

Something’s coming.

The message echoed in my mind, annoyingly and relentlessly tapping at my brain.

A heavy fog clouded my eyesight. Before I could even attempt to fight my way out, the vision dragged me under and engulfed me in darkness.

I was running and I was scared.

Lost in the blackness, I had no clue why I was there or where I was going. But at the moment none of that really mattered because everything in my body was yelling at me: Do not stop.

I almost answered back. What do you think I am, stupid? But that's what I had to be for running around in the dark alone.

My heart raced, thumping a powerful and endless pattern of beats against my chest. I wanted to scream. No, actually, I needed to scream, to call someone, anyone to come help me. But I couldn’t. Something was coming for me.

I lunged forward, hoping to find my way to safety, but every step I took began to grow heavier. The cool breeze that blew against my face and whipped my long hair around slowed. In front of me, the trees stretched up thirty feet into the air and wrapped me around like a coffin. Above me, the full moon shinned brightly, like a beacon of light, strangely offering me only a whisper of hope.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood tingling and I instantly felt like I was in the middle of some really bad slasher movie, the ones I loved to watch and yell at the girl who was wandering around in the dark like an idiot. How nice that I was now that idiot girl.

I waited to hear something, anything coming closer, but even the usual sounds of night were absent. There were no crickets singing to each other or rustling leaves blowing in the night breeze; it was just me and the sound of my breath quickly being sucked in and out.

This was bad.

I cursed at myself silently for stopping, but I had no other choice. My legs refused to move. I twitched my head from left to right, like a frightened rabbit waiting for the coming attack when my instincts made me turn to look behind me. Expecting to be greeted solely by darkness I was shocked to discover that I wasn’t alone. I was holding someone’s hand: a girl, who was following so quietly behind me, I was amazed at the impossibility of it. The dirty, oversized man’s white t-shirt she wore fell just above her knees. The dark brownish stains scattered around the shirt had me worried about what this strange girl had gone through. Her tangled and dirty, lengthy auburn hair fell heavily over her face.

I wanted to ask her name, but the words couldn’t come. My mouth was clamped in a hard line. I could not utter a sound. Someone was coming.

Nerves rippled through my body like tiny shockwaves beneath my skin.

Get the hell out of here! – every fiber of my being screamed. But of course, like an idiot, curiosity got the better of me. I had to know who she was.

The girl’s rail-thin body swayed dangerously from side to side as if any breeze that touched her bruised skin would tip her over. I kept her hand locked in mine afraid she would disappear and leave me all alone. I lifted my other hand and inched closer. I reached for the curtain of hair desperate to figure out who she was when a voice drifted through the air. My hand froze midair.

It is inevitable. You are already mine.

There was nothing especially loud or unique about the man’s voice except it was tinged with a light Spanish accent. No menacing laugh followed it, but the cold threat held within his words was clear. If this was a horror movie, there was no doubt he was the evil bad guy.

I was confused by the vague message, wondering who it was intended for, me or the girl. Yanking me back to the present, she drew a sharp breath and looked up, startling me, causing me to stumble backwards almost tripping over my own clumsy feet. I managed to see her terrified eyes, glowing a light, golden brown just before her cry ripped through my senses and scared the crap out of me, as if I wasn’t terrified enough.

RUN!

Every muscle in my body tensed, as I turned and prepared to get the hell out of there when I heard the loud BOOM thunder around us. My vision blurred as the pain slashed through me.

Son of a ….

My brain struggled to focus as I sat up in bed, my breath coming hard and fast like it had in my vision. My hands clutched my stomach where I could still feel the searing hot pain of metal tearing through it.

I was shot!

Chapter 2

I almost expected to see bright red blood dripping from fingers, as I moved my trembling hands up my body to massage my temples where my brain felt like it had been abused in a ruthless game of dodge ball.

I turned to look at my alarm clock ticking away on my night stand and winced at the slight movement. I had to fight the urge to pick it up and throw it across the room. Waking up early had to be one of the worst tortures in the world. Why couldn’t the damn premonition come at a more decent hour, when I was fully conscious and somewhat prepared for it, instead of at six in the morning?

Not that you could ever really be prepared for a vision where you have just gotten brutally gunned down by a creepy floating voice.

I closed my eyes as I lie back on my pillow and let out a shaky, irritated breath. The bitterness rose up quickly, which sadly felt way too familiar and comfortable. I wanted to fight against my body that shook with fear and adrenaline, but more than anything, I just wanted to be normal for once in my life, to go back to sleep after having a crazy, standard, run of the mill nightmare, and dream of me and Brad Pitt circa Legends of the Fall getting cozy under a bearskin rug, and forget all about it. But I couldn’t.

It wasn’t a normal dream, and I wasn’t a normal girl. I was a freak of nature, and the premonition would come true just like they always did. Ignoring it was impossible.

Something was coming for me and whatever it was felt like a magnitude 10.0 on my drama Richter scale.

I was going to die.

Crap on a stick! I shot up in bed as the realization began to sink in, and the slow, sour burn of vomit made its way up my throat. If I didn’t get to a bathroom soon it was going to force its way out all over me.

I untangled myself from my hot sheets, and dragged myself out of bed. The relief was instant as I left my boiling room, already feeling the effects of the vicious summer heat and made my way down the dim hallway heading to the nearest bathroom. The nauseous feeling was already beginning to subside, thank God, but I was in need of some extra strength aspirin and even in the face of death, I really had to pee.

I walked into my mom’s quiet room, ignoring the soft blue faded flowery wallpaper and the old, comfortable furniture that always brought back way too many memories of a our once upon a time happy family. There was no way hiding under my parent’s covers now was going to make any part of me okay, the extra strength aspirin, however, stored in mom bathroom cabinets would definitely go a long way in stopping the unbearable pounding in my head.

I had to force my mouth shut as a string of very un-lady like curse words fired through my brain as I found my mom, still in the bathroom, wearing her perfectly ironed hospital scrubs, which she never seemed to take off lately. The aspirin I would kill for would have to wait, Mom would notice as usual, which would bring too many unwanted questions.

Can’t a girl use the bathroom? I complained, leaning my shoulder against the doorway. I crossed my arms against my chest.

Mom jumped slightly at the sound of my voice.

Aye mija, you scared me. Buenos dias, Mom said. She moved over to give me a kiss on the cheek, and her glance drawn down to the frown on my face.

Relax, Veronica, I’m done. Mom said, confusing my scowl for impatience. You know waking up early doesn’t give you permission to be irritating. Why are you up so early anyway?

I shrugged, afraid of what my voice might sound like.

She looked at me again carefully, as if hoping to see the secrets she knew I sometimes kept hidden from her. As much as I wanted to tell her, cry and make a mess of myself I knew she would never be able to handle it. She never could. I shoved the pain down with all the other unwanted feelings I kept bottled inside.

Are you working at the shop today? she asked, peering at me through the mirror.

I sighed. Yeah, I have to be there at ten.

She looked at me and hesitated. I knew it was coming.

How’s your dad?

Ugh! I don’t know why she bothers asking. If she wanted to know how he was everyday why get a divorce. Isn’t that the whole point?

I wasn’t in the mood to indulge her today, especially not right now. I shrugged again, which I knew would irritate her.

She stared at me, her eyes as delicate as a drill. What’s wrong?

Damn it! Sometimes I swear she was the one with the sixth sense. She can always tell when I have seen something bad, but there was no way I was telling her that.

Nothing, Mom, I just have to go to the bathroom, is that okay with you? Don’t be so paranoid.

Now she looked more pissed than concerned, which was fine with me since I knew she wouldn’t question me anymore. A dose of typical teenage bad attitude always did the trick. It was a good thing I was so great at giving it.

I’ll be at the hospital until after seven tonight. Make sure Erica and Ian eat dinner, please. Call me if you need me. Love you. She kissed me again quickly and was gone, running away from her strange and unusual, cranky daughter.

I’d run away from myself too if I could.

Finally alone, I gulped down three extra strength aspirin with lukewarm faucet water. As I wiped away the moisture from my mouth with the back of my hand, I stared into the mirror. Now there was something to really run screaming from.

I looked like the mysterious gunk found at the bottom of a garbage can. Which was perfect, since that was exactly how I felt. My face was pale and thin; thanks to the low fat diet of depression I had starved myself with all summer. The dark circles under my dull brown eyes were ridiculous, and my frizzy long brown hair hung like dead seaweed. I would have been perfect as the crazed killer in a Rob Zombie movie.

The hard front I had put up for my mom began to crumble. I can’t handle this. Not now. Not when I had just decided to attempt to get my life back in order.

Last year had been bad, really bad; the kind of year where only the roaches should have survived. My solution in dealing with it? Sleep through the entire summer and attempt to ignore the disaster my life had dissolved into. Obviously that brilliant plan hadn’t work. The past stalked me everywhere I went. And of course I tortured myself by picking at my wounds so that I never fully healed.

I was broken. I should have done something, changed things somehow.

I had made so many mistakes.

My knees buckled beneath me as I stumbled over to sit on the toilet, and let my face fall into my hands.

My life was a mess and now to top it off it appears as though I’m going to be murdered.

Perfect.

My hands ran up to my head and turned into fists. I pulled at my hair hard in frustration. Emotions boiled up, I yanked at the towel hanging on the wall, buried my face into it, and let the cries come. I sobbed, emptying out months of unhappiness and frustration until my throat burned.

Why? The divorce, Abuelita dying, Frankie cheating, what was the point of suffering through it all if I was just going to end up dead?

Well, at least I would be with Abuelita again.

My cries sputtered to a stop as I repeated the last words slowly in my head, and felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured down my back.

Was that it? Had I officially given up on living?

No.

The answer surprised me more than it should have, which was definitely a cause for concern, but it was still a solid no.

I was not ready to die.

Not today. Not now.

The rage filled me; the heat traveled to every part of my body, and melted the ice that had been keeping me numb. Suddenly, I felt more alive than I had in months. I stood up, with a sudden sense a purpose and a little manic like I have just drank a case of Red Bulls. Something was coming for me. I could feel the weight of it pressing down on every inch of my body. I had been given a warning. That meant all I had to do was figure out how to stop it.

I staggered back to the sink. My hands quivered as I turned the faucet on and splashed cold water all over my face. I closed my eyes and sifted through the premonition that was usually twenty-five percent dream seventy-five percent vision, searching for the important details, and forced my mind to move away from the past and look into the future.

The girl and the voice. This was all about them. She needed my help. And we both needed to stay alive. But why?

The voice, so cold, terrified me. I didn’t have the first clue who it was, and nothing in the world would possess me to purposely seek out whoever this person was, but I knew I would have to.

As I dried my face, the full moon from my vision that floated above the trees offering me hope, unexpectedly drifted to the surface of my thoughts. Last night, shinning in through my window, there had been an almost perfect half moon.

The realization had me stumbling back towards the toilet. I had about fourteen days to stop my own murder.

Chapter 3

Still slightly dazed from my breakdown, I walked into our bright yellow kitchen and found Ian sitting at the kitchen table, his face buried in a massive bowl of cereal. Great... this was not going to be good. If there was anyone I couldn’t hide from it was my little brother.

Carefully, I cleared my head of any thoughts that lingered, and tried to keep my mind as empty as possible. Every thought was dangerous with Ian around.

Why aren’t you asleep? I asked, avoiding his stare, heading straight for the coffee, the one vice I hadn’t forced myself to give up.

Cause I’m a normal, healthy teenager that has a life outside of this house, unlike some people, he said, shoveling the next spoonful of cereal into his mouth, drops of milk missing their mark dripped down its sides. You okay?

God, Ian, can’t you eat like a human? Why don’t you have a little bit more cereal with your milk?

I’m a growing boy, this is the way we do things and you didn’t answer me. Are you okay?

Yes, Ian. I’m fine.

Didn’t sound like it to me.

Well if you already knew the answer why the hell did you bother asking? I shot back.

You know what they say about assuming, he said, unaffected by my bitchiness.

It’s too late; I already think you’re an ass. I said.

Ha, ha. You know you look like crap right. It’s kinda getting embarrassing. Aren’t you tired of this depression thing you’ve got going on yet?

Ouch, that hurt.

If that was meant to be inspirational, thanks, I feel on top of the world now.

Seriously, Vero.

Seriously, Ian. Do you think I like being this way? You should know better than anyone how I feel but … it’s hard.

Especially, when you have creepy visions scaring the hell out of you.

What did you see? he said, putting down his spoon.

Damn it, I slipped.

It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it that made me turn around and force myself to smile.

Down boy. It’s nothing, relax. Puppy dogs and cute kittens, puppy dogs and cute kittens, puppy dogs and cute kittens …

Really, dogs and cats? That hasn’t worked since elementary school, Ian said.

Well, if I wanted you to know every intimate detail of my life I would tell you. Stay out of my head, I threatened.

No problem. Tell me what you saw, he said leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Out of stubbornness I stayed quiet and refused to answer.

You know I’m going to find out one way or another. And I’d rather it not be the hard way. I still haven’t forgiven you for the infamous skate board incident in fourth grade. My leg still hurts every time it rains, he said, his cereal all but forgotten.

I lived in a house full of freaks. It’s no wonder I’m all screwed up. My brother can hear people’s thoughts. I can never get over how crazy that is. I mean, having premonitions was pretty messed up, yet somehow I felt his gift was worse.

We’ve never really talked about what it was like for him growing up with his ability, but it must have been pretty hard. Can you imagine having to hear people’s crazy thoughts as a five year old? I’m surprised he didn’t go a little insane, or maybe he did and hides it well. Needless to say, he doesn’t trust too many people. How can you when you can hear people’s unfiltered feelings?

It’s nothing, don’t worry, I said.

I felt something this morning. I woke up feeling ... scared. Why? he asked frowning. All the playfulness had left his voice.

The fear I was holding down just below the surface hit me again like a Mac truck. It was a good thing I had my back to him or he would have seen it instantly. My hands trembled as I reached for the coffee. I almost told him. But something stopped me. I couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until I really needed to.

I took a second to compose myself and turned to face him again.

Something’s coming, I said, putting every ounce of force I had behind it. It wasn’t quite a lie, but definitely not the whole truth.

What do you mean something’s coming? Should I be worried? His broad shoulders tightened, like he was ready to spring into action. He was already concerned which was exactly what I was trying to avoid.

I don’t know what it means, but there is nothing to worry about. It’s probably just something to do with school starting.

I looked away to turn on the coffee maker and avoid his hard stare.

Did you even try to make me believe that? he said.

I turned around trying not to grin. He always had a way of making me do that. As far as little brothers go, I could do worse. It’s nothing, really. I’m just a little stressed.

It was a flat out lie, but I had made it my job to take care of my brother and sister ever since they were born. I wouldn’t start worrying them now.

At that moment my little sister Erica decided to grace us with her appearance.

You stressed? No! I don’t believe it, she said, shaking her head. She walked towards the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. Vero, you were born stressing.

Her small frame was wrapped up in a soft pink fuzzy robe and her stick straight hair was pulled up in to the most gigantic rollers I had ever seen. She looked like Medusa come to life.

Yeah and you were born a pain in the butt, what can we do? I said, shrugging my shoulders. Good lord, doesn’t anybody sleep in this family?

Some of us actually have lives that involve, getting up before noon, and socializing with real people, Erica said rolling her eyes, in a way that only annoying little sisters could pull off. Hey, so did you guys feel it this morning. Something’s coming! she squealed. "I wonder what it will be?