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The Prophecy ds-1 Page 3
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Page 3
A glimmer at the corner of the house caught my attention. I leaned toward it and could just make out a large lake in the distance. I turned my gaze back to our new house and silently compared it to the house we had back in LA. While I loved our old house, this definitely upped the ante on awesome houses. I couldn't believe it. I looked back at my parents, almost expecting to see them holding in their laughter over the worst joke of all time. I swear I'd kill them if they had played me for a fool.
“Are you serious!?” My tone came out sharper than I intended. By their instant frowns, I knew they took it the wrong way. They looked slightly hurt, and I hated myself for that. That they would become so used to me being spiteful that they'd take everything the wrong way.
“Pumpkin, we thought you would like it.”
“Like it?” I didn't like it, I loved it.
“Yes.” Mom jumped in, fluttering her hands as if unsure how to proceed. “We thought that with everything you've been going through that you'd want a space of your own. It's not two storied, you see. There's a fully finished walk out basement, and we thought—”
“I have my own floor?”
“Look, Star. We know this isn't LA, but we're trying to—” The rest of my Dad's sentence was lost as I threw myself at them. I could feel them stiffen before they relaxed into my exuberant hug. I knew they had become so used to minimal displays of affection from me, but it still hurt that they didn't automatically embrace me.
“So—you like it?”
“Like it!? Are you serious? I love it!” I thought my happy dance was about to throw them into shock. I tried to tap down on my excitement, but it refused to be pushed aside. “I get my own floor, for crying out loud! This is awesome!” I was tempted to hug them again, but they shared a 'look', one that spelled trouble for me. I knew this was too good to be true. “Wait, what's the catch?”
Warring emotions playing across their faces. I crossed my arms and stared them down, impatiently tapping my toe against the pavement. I was about to lay into them when mom cut in with one of her placating smiles.
“We'll talk about it later, okay? Why don't we all go inside and check out the house first. She ushered us quickly inside, side stepping around movers at the carried our furniture and boxes through the house.
I was about to dig in my heels and get them to hash everything out that instant, but instead I ended up staring wide-eyed at the interior of the home. I turned in a slow circle in the middle of the entryway, trying to take in as many details as I could.
The entryway was open and airy, with a staircase ahead leading to the upper floor, and doorways on either side leading to the living room and dining room. The kitchen lay straight ahead. The rubber soles of my shoes squeaked on the tile floor as I turned. To my left, an arched doorway led into a large living room with floor to ceiling windows. The cathedral ceiling went all the way up to the roof of the house, showing deep cherry wood rafters. Sunlight filtered through the wall of windows, letting soft rose light dance upon the pale cream walls. Bedroom doors were open on the second floor, where railing along the upper hallway created a loft like feel, showcasing the living room.
I turned to my right, and saw that the dining room had the same open, airy feel as the rest of the house. Walking farther, I stepped into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks. The granite counter tops gleamed from the mullioned windows flanking the back of the house. Stainless steel appliances stood like sentries. A granite isle stood in the middle of the tiled floor with a pot and pan rack hanging overhead. I moved toward the windows.
A large deck stretched out across the back of the house. Beyond it, my eyes rested on the lake, causing a breathless sigh to leave my body. It was beautiful. Dark green grass gently sloped to the gray water. The fading sunlight danced across it, creating a ballet of light and darkness with the mountains rising majestically in the distance.
I opened the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the deck. Gazing around the yard I noticed that about a half an acre out on either side of the house started the wood line. The woods were sparse in the beginning, creating lovely shaded areas that quickly gave way to the forest. It would be a beautiful place to die if mutant mountain men roamed the area, that's for sure.
I turned at the sound of my parents calling to me. “Come check out your new room,” Mom said with a knowing grin. With one last look at the lake, I turned to follow after them.
“You have got to be shitting me.” I just couldn't believe my eyes. The basement was fully finished with its own bathroom, large bedroom, living area and bar/kitchenette. The previous owners obviously never took the time to decorate it because it was completely barren of color.
The bedroom could be shut off from the rest of the area by large French doors. The living room was carpeted and sunk down into the middle of the tiled floor, forming an almost secluded space. I'd never have to worry about my parents yelling at me for staying up late again. They'd never know. I almost felt evil with my all-night movie intentions.
“This is mine? ALL mine?” My eyes felt like they were going to bulge right out of my head as I stared at my parents. Smiling, they nodded their heads in assent. I quickly looked around again then ran to the door leading to the backyard.
A cobblestone area was set right outside, perfect for a quiet evening to sit and take in the beauty of the surrounding area. A garden lay to the right of the porch, hidden from prying eyes by the first floor deck. Since the basement was built into the side of the sloping hills, the entire back side of the bottom level was nothing but glass to make up for the lack of light. For a moment, I couldn't breathe as I took it all in.
I looked at my parents with a huge smile on my face. They did this for me, to make me happy and try to replace the blackness that seemed to be surrounding my life. I still couldn't stop the edge of unease that seemed to constantly hover around me, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
My parents left me alone to start unpacking my items. Listening to my iPod, I started organizing my belongings and making a list for all the new furniture I would need to fill the rooms. This was the first time I had space to myself, enough room to breathe.
I screamed when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Falling onto my butt, I quickly turned around. My dad stood above me, almost doubled over with laughter. Yanking out my earphones, I sent a glare his way.
“Sweet baby Jesus! What were you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?”
“Hey, I tried calling your name. It's not my fault you were blaring music.”
“What did you need?” I rested my arms on my raised knees, maintaining my glare.
“Time for you to come upstairs. We ordered some pizza and still have some things to talk about.”
“Trying to butter me up with the thought of pizza, eh?”
“Couldn't hurt.” With a wink he headed up the stairs.
I followed him to the living room where Mom was busy digging through boxes. She looked up and gave Dad a questioning look. Glancing back at me, he gave a short nod in silent reply. Tension seeped into the atmosphere. I crossed my arms and prepared for whatever was to come.
“Come sit with me, sweetie.” She said, sitting herself on the couch and patting the spot next to her. I thought about declining, but figured that would take focus away from whatever discussion they were anxious about. I walked calmly toward her and sat down without even a remark, causing my parents eyebrows to raise in surprise.
“Spill it.” I said, looking straight into my mothers' eyes.
She looked at Dad first before she cast her wary eyes back to me. “Well, I know you're not going to like this, but please just hear us out.” I didn't take my gaze off of her even when I felt the couch shift from the weight of my father sitting down beside me.
She cleared her throat and started wringing her hands in her lap. I gazed at them momentarily then shifted my defenses based on that tell-tale sign. She wouldn't be wringing her hands unless she was worried about what my reaction would be.
&nbs
p; “We know you don't want to talk about it, but these little 'incidents' have begun to increase and your attitude has started to swing almost dramatically. We want you to know that we love you, and that we're doing what we think is best for you—” Mom looked pleadingly at me while she put a reassuring hand on my knee. Dad cleared his throat, earning my attention. They planned a speech together. This wasn't good.
“You're going to start therapy on Monday,” Dad said in a rush.
“Therapy?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, you know we'd never do anything to hurt you, we just want you to have someone to talk to.” Mom said in a placating voice.
I could feel my anger rising by the moment. The flecks darkness within me seemed to grow with my building temper. Feeding off it. Fueling it. “You want me to go to some quack, charging hundreds of dollars an hour just to talk?”
“Yes, we figured if you had the chance to talk about what's been happening—”
“How am I supposed to talk about what's been happening when I don't know the cause of it!” I started to angrily pace in front of them, hoping to calm the darkness within me.
“All that's going to happen is I'm going to end up getting put on some stupid medicine that will keep me like a living zombie just like the last time! How can you guys even come to this conclusion when you know damn well I didn't have anything to do with what happened to Rebecca?”
“Well, if you become a zombie we could always have you cast in the next apocalypse movie,” Dad stated, trying to alleviate my anger.
“That's not funny! Why in the world would you think I'd willingly do this? Do you know what they do to people at mental hospitals? Haven't you seen Gothica?”
Mom put her head in her hands and began rubbing her temples. “Star, that's a movie!”
“I'm not stupid, I know it's a movie, but that could happen.” I threw my hands up and yanked my hair over my shoulder, twisting it roughly around my hand. Mom wasn't the only one with a nervous gesture.
“You're forgetting the fact that we're not putting you in a mental institution. We're just having you go to a therapist.”
“Ha! That's what they all say before the person is shipped off to some ward where a mad scientist starts experimenting on them!”
Dad nodded his head. “She has a point, that's how it always starts.”
“Paul! You're not helping!” Mom hissed.
He couldn't keep his grin hidden. “What?”
Shaking her head, she turned back to me. “Look, we don't want this to get any worse than what it already is. We want you to get help so we can nip this in the bud.”
I let loose an eye roll as I wrapped my arms protectively around myself. “Yeah, that's what I thought this whole move was about. You know, uprooting me from the only home I've ever known, removing me from my friends and the life I built. Yup, all about help, but I guess the intervention has just started!”
“Oh, come on Star! You know we didn't have a choice! Do you think we liked moving this far away?” Mom spat in exasperation. “For once would you stop thinking about yourself and think about others? Your father had to take a demotion in his job to move out here! I had to leave my publisher and transfer to one closer to here! You're not the only one who had to make sacrifices!” she threw her hands wide for emphasis.
I stayed silent. I knew what they had to give up to move here. Knew how stressed and worried they were about me. Because of me. I just couldn't stop the anger from rolling in.
An electric feeling started building underneath my skin, making the air around me almost palpable with static. The darkness seemed to be laughing, mocking my attempts to remain calm, to control myself. I was coming close to being beyond freaked out. The darkness always grew before one of my 'incidents', but the energy snapping under my skin was new. It was terrifying me. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Maybe I was going crazy.
“Why would you think I'd willingly agree to this? Even if you drag me to a therapist, you can't make me talk.”
Acting with an outer calm that mocked my own barely held control, Dad studied his nail beds. “Well, you'll need a car to get back and forth to work and school. If you talk during your sessions, we'll buy you a car.”
I sank graciously to the floor, feeling like they sucker punched me in the gut. My anger was thoroughly deflated, making the darkness and energy fade. I chewed on my lip thoughtfully while staring at my scuffed up tennis shoes, thinking about their offer. I didn't want to start my new life riding the school bus or having to beg my parents to take me places. I wanted my freedom, and they were offering it to me with one hell of a catch.
I didn't think I'd have an active social life in this Podunk town, but it would be nice to be able to escape for a while. The sound of the doorbell broke into my internal debate.
I sighed in relief at the disturbance and jumped up. “I'll get it!” I called out as I ran to the door. Skidding on the slick tile, I almost fell on my butt as my hand reached for the door handle. “Fuck!” I caught myself just in time to hear Mom’s chastisement.
“Starlette Elizabeth McKinley! Language!”
I rolled my eyes as I flung open the door, scaring the pizza delivery guy at the same time.
I drank in the sight of him. He was tall, easily towering over my petite 5'6'' frame. His shoulders were broad and I could see the muscles of his arms tense when he tightened his grip on the pizza delivery bag. My eyes trailed up from his thick chest, lingering on the open collar of his shirt for a moment, taking in the dark golden color of his skin. He had a strong chin, hinting at arrogance. His thick, dark brown hair shone with golden highlights in the porch light. My eyes locked on his warm amber gaze. Flecks of gold danced within them, making me to feel like I was falling. My eyes trailed down his slim, aristocratic nose, to rest on his full lips. His teeth shone white between his lips as they moved. Shit! He's talking!
“What?” I asked, feeling myself flush to the roots of my hair.
“Uh, is this the McKinley house?” He asked, frowning at me.
Way to go Star, first hot guy you meet and you end up staring like an idiot. “Yup.” Wow, I'm so eloquent too.
“Okay, that will be twenty-six seventy-five.”
“Huh?”
His smirk caused my attention to be drawn back to his lips. “Pizza.”
“Oh! Yeah, hold on.” I quickly headed back into the living room. Dad was already reaching for his wallet with a bemused smile on his face. I sighed and held my hand out to him. “Don't ask.”
“Oh, I don't have to. We overheard your lady-like tendency in action.”
“Perfect, now my utter embarrassment is fulfilled! I can die a happy woman, knowing my greatest dream is accomplished.”
Dad's smirk flared into a full out smile. “Oh, I'm sure you have the potential for something truly epic,” he said, placing the money in my awaiting hands. I glared at him then stalked off, tempted to give him the one finger salute.
I caught the pizza guy looking around at all the boxes scattered everywhere. I think it should be illegal to have a delivery guy look like that. I frowned at him. He quickly turned his attention to me, smiling slightly. A fluttering sensation erupted in my stomach, causing me to pause. So not good.
Still frowning, I handed him the money. “You can keep the change.” He grinned again, and I noticed he had a dimple on his left cheek. I wanted to lick it. Taken aback, I wondered where in the hell that thought came from. Sure I've been attracted to guys before, but I've never had any overly sexual thoughts about them. Being seventeen and a virgin was testament to that fact. The delivery guy was busy opening the carrying bag, giving me free reign to stare at him. Great, he's going to think I'm some type of creepy stalker on top of being an idiot. I shouldn't care. Crazy plus hot guy doesn't equal anything good. Bringing myself back to the present, I reached for the pizzas.
Pizza boxes safely in hand, I moved to close the door. “Well, have a good night.” I said with a small smile.
“Ye
ah, you too.” Smiling in return, he turned away. I took a moment to watch him go. The backside was even more pleasing than the front. I shook my head and moved forward, my eyes glued to his retreating form. I moved with the narrowing gap of the door, trying to keep him in sight for as long as possible.
I forgot that I had the pizza boxes in my hand and jerked back when I felt them bounce against the door frame. They lost their balance and started to fall. “Shit!” I jumped forward, trying to catch them only to find myself falling forward as I tripped over the lip of the door, face first into an upended pizza box.
I thought about staying where I was, smothered to death by mozzarella cheese as I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. I huffed out a breath and almost groaned as the expulsion of air caused a cheese bubble. I felt cheese and sauce slide down my nose as I lifted my face. I sat back and rubbed the soreness out of my knee. “Are you alright?” The pizza guy asked as he crouched down beside me.
“Oh, I'm perfect. Nothing says how great a pizza is better than falling face first into it.” I wiped the residue from my face, refusing to look up at him. I cast a glare over my shoulder toward the living room as I heard Dad's bellow of laughter.
I froze as his fingertips softly touched my face.
“You've got something right here.”
I could hear the suppressed laughter in his voice. I turned and saw him holding up a slice of pepperoni, laughter lighting up his amber eyes. “Thanks.” I was trying hard not to lash out like my anger was begging me too. I picked up the boxes and stood, turning to stomp angrily through the doorway.
“Hey, I'm—”
“Have a good night!” I snarled, cutting him off by slamming the door in his face. If there was a God I prayed to never see him again. I leaned against the door, flushing with absolute embarrassment.
“Epic!” Dad yelled from the recesses of the living room. I rolled my eyes as I headed toward them with the face printed pizza.