Chapter 8

Cameron and I left school quickly, opting to try and avoid any other conflicts today. Once we were clear of the parking lot we settled into a slower pace.

“What happened at lunch?” Cameron asked suddenly.

I physically paused for a moment in surprise. “I guess the only way to explain it is to say I got angry and lost control?” I answered, honestly a bit unsure of how accurate I was being.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what made you so angry?” he questioned further, watching me from the corner of his eyes.

“They were disrespecting my dad,” I said, clenching my teeth as the anger from before coming back as I thought back. “Tried saying he wasn’t a hero, who died saving people. That his death wasn’t a tragedy,” Cameron said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Do you want to go for a walk; before you go home?”

“Sure.” Going home was not a fun idea, the house turned cold and dark in my family’s grief. My mom stayed in her room most days, leaving the rest of the house to acquire layers of dust.

I followed Cameron as we walked, much like I had done in the past. We made it to a dead end where the road meets the woods. I started to turn around, before being stopped.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a dead end, I’m turning around.”

Letting out a laugh he grabbed my hand leading me past the barrier of trees. “I expected a witch to have more of an imagination.”

With no further explanation he guided me through the maze of trees until we came to a small clearing. It wasn’t very big in size, but it was big enough and had a certain familiarity about it.

“Well, this worked out better than I had anticipated,” Cameron said almost to himself.

“What? You were just blindly leading me into the woods?” I exclaimed.

“Kinda,” he replied nonchalantly.

“You realize how disconcerting that sounds, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded with a sigh. “But all’s well that ends well.”

Looking at him I tilted my head in disbelief. This boy perplexed me more and more every day. Walking to the middle where a small hill sat, Cameron lowered himself to the ground and looked up at the sky.

“Can I ask you something?”

He spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear him. His voice was almost lost in the breeze. Nodding, I sat down next to him, waiting for him to continue.

“How do you not hate me? Or at least blame me, for what happened.”

“I tried to hate you at first. And though having someone else to blame would’ve made it easier, I know that it’s not your fault,” I explained.

“So, you don’t blame me?” he asked again.

“No, I know my dad. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said he was a hero. He would have gone running back into that building for anyone.” I wiped away a stray tear before continuing. “His only goal was to save as many people as he could.”

We sat there for a while as the sounds of nature filled our comfortable silence. For the first time since he passed, I was finally able to feel the magic of a place again. Not the actual magic but the human kind—when a place is so special it feels almost magical. We had to leave before it got too late since Cameron’s parents wanted him home for dinner.

Walking into the house, I was met with the quiet, emptiness that I had grown accustomed to. Whether or not mom has come out of her room remains to be seen.

“I’m home!” I call out even though I don’t expect an answer. “Sorry for being late, I went for a walk after school.”

I went into the kitchen, putting my backpack on the counter and I opened the fridge.

“Mom, have you eaten?” I doubt she had, it looked like the kitchen was starting to acquire a thin layer of dust. “I can make us some food if you want.”

More silence answered me. Nonetheless, I grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge. While the stove heated up, I got the bread and popped them into the toaster. In the meantime, I poured a little oil into the center of the pan and cracked an egg. I couldn’t help but hope that the smell of the eggs cooking would lure my mom from the depths of her room. An egg sandwich would provide a filling meal with some much-needed protein, as I had no frame of reference for the last time she ate.

Soon after the eggs were done, I heard the ding of the toaster. With the sandwiches assembled and plated, I placed them on the counter and sat down to eat.

“Food’s done!” I announced, before digging into my own.

I was able to eat my food and wash the dishes, but Mom still hadn’t come out to eat. Fine, if she wouldn’t come to the food, I guess I had no choice but to bring it to her. Well, I mean, technically I could let her go hungry, but that seemed counterproductive. Grabbing the plate, I made my way to the room in the house I had all but avoided for the past week.

Gently knocking, I opened the door. “Mom, come on, you have to eat.”

There she sat at the edge of the bed clutching his pillow as if her life depended on it. Maybe for her, it felt like it did, but who I was looking at didn’t look like my mother. She had become a hollow husk of who she was in her grief. She was staring, unblinking, at the wall in front of her. It was like she didn’t even see me standing there.

“Mom? I made you some food,” I stated, though her attention never wavered. “Mom, look at me.”

I placed the plate beside her on the mattress and knelt down in front of her. “Mom, please. Please just look at me.”

Nothing.

“Mom, you have to eat.”

Her eyes never moved from the wall.

“Mom!” I exclaimed. “What are you looking at that is so much more interesting than your daughter?!” I cried, turning around.

There, on a little hook in the wall, was their wedding picture.

“He’s gone, Mom. Staring at his picture for the rest of your life, won’t bring him back,” I spat out. “Look at me, I’m your daughter and I’m still here!”

When she didn’t respond I grew so frustrated that I grabbed the pillow and ripped it from her hands. “You aren’t the only one who lost him. I lost him too, he was my dad!”

Finally, she looked at me, her face still blank. “I wish that I could lock myself in my room, but I can’t. If I did, you could lose me too.” I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

I took a deep breath and turned toward the door. “One of us is supposed to be an adult, and it’s not supposed to be me,” I said without turning around. “Make sure to eat. Dad wouldn’t want you to starve yourself.”

With that, I left the room. Maybe I was too harsh on her, but she’s not the only one that misses him. And instead of coming together to mourn she’s left me to myself. How were we supposed to find comfort if we are alone? I’ll give her a bit of time and check on her later. Maybe by then she’d have eaten, in the meantime I should do my homework. Heading back to the kitchen I grabbed my backpack and went upstairs.

Walking into my room, I couldn’t help but notice that I hadn’t seen or heard Amelia in a while. Maybe since her jewel was found she was able to move on. Maybe she was just waiting for something. Who knows, but I was glad she was staying away for the time being. I did not have it in me to deal with a ghost right now. Doing my homework didn’t take long because I didn’t put much thought into it. So, before long I was done and looking out the window. I noticed how dark it had gotten outside.

Walking downstairs, I made my way back to check on my mom. Knocking on the door, I wondered how I would find her. Would she snap out of it? Opening the door, I was met with a disappointing sight. She sat in the same spot she was in before, holding the pillow once more. The only change was that the plate that once held an egg sandwich was now empty, save for a few crumbs left behind.

I wish I could be angry, but I could only be happy that she ate. Maybe something I said earlier hit a nerve. “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” I said quietly, walking into the room.

As expected, there was no response. “Thank you for eating.” Picking up the plate, I left her again. I didn’t bother washing the plate and decided to head to the backyard. Without Dad here, the garden hadn’t been tended to. Even though it was dark, I felt like being outside. So, while I was here, I grabbed the garden tools and got to work. I didn’t know how long I stayed out there, but by the time I came inside I was exhausted. So, I showered really quick and passed out as soon as my head touched the pillow.

I don’t know where I am, surrounded but dark swirling clouds. Was I dead? I don’t think so…

“Wynter.” I heard a voice call out. “Wynter.”

“Who’s there?” I asked, whipping around trying to find the source of the voice.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” The voice responded.

“What?” I asked.

Turning around I came face to face with a semi-transparent Amelia.

“Amelia? What’s going on?”

“You’re running out of time, find the journals. Save him!”

Before I had the chance to ask what she was talking about, my alarm went off. I lay there for a few minutes grounding myself, because… what was that? It didn’t feel real but at the same time it didn’t feel like a dream. Did I astral project? I didn’t think so, but I guess that was an option. If I did talk to Amelia, what did she mean? Save who? This was the second time she’s said this to me, but she didn’t answer any questions.

My stream of thoughts was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. It couldn’t be Cameron. No way did I lay here in my thoughts for that long. Quickly I grabbed my phone and checked the time. It had only been five minutes since my alarm, so I was right, and it couldn’t be Cameron. Whoever it was kept knocking, seemingly nonstop. I got ready quickly and ran downstairs to answer the door.

“So sorry for the wait,” I said as I opened the door.

Standing there was a boy no older than I was. He wore what looked to be an antique suit, his blonde hair falling just above his shoulders. He seemed normal, yet something about him felt off.

“How can I help you?” I ask.

“Is this still the Morgan residence?” he questioned, eyes never finding mine. Instead, he seemed focused on the small details of the house. Why did he seem so nervous?

“May I know who’s asking?” Something wasn’t right about this guy, though I could put my finger on what.

“My apologies, how rude of me,” he replied, extending his hand. “You may address me as Evan.”

I shook his hand and found that his skin was freezing. Weird, it was still spring, and it was actually pretty warm outside. “Wynter, and yes this is the Morgan residence.”

He focused on something behind me and started trying to come inside. “May I?” he asked.

“Sorry, but I cannot let you in,” I said, struggling to close the door.

“Please,” he pleaded.

“NO,” I stated firmly. “You can’t come in.”

Finally, I was able to shut the door, and as an extra precaution, I dead bolted it.

Immediately, he started banging against the door.

“LET ME IN! LET ME IN! LET ME IN!” he demanded. He didn’t sound angry, but desperate.

His voice sounded like it was getting louder and louder to the point I felt he was yelling inside my skull. I covered my ears with my hands hoping that would be enough to block out his booming voice and maybe he’d leave. There I stood like a small child trying to muffle the sound of the storm outside. Eventually the banging ebbed away into silence, along with his screaming.

Slowly I removed my hands from my ears, not quite trusting him to really be done. Part of me wanted to open the door to make sure he left, but another part of me was scared of what would happen if he was still there. I stared at the door, trying to decide what to do. I guess that’s why the sudden knock at the door scared me as much as it did, nearly jumping out of my skin at the sound.

“Wynter?” a familiar voice called.

With a sigh of relief, I opened the door to let Cameron inside.

“Did he leave?” I asked him.

“Who?” he questioned back, confusion on his face.

“The blond guy.”

“I didn’t see any blond guy.” He shrugged. “Where’s your veil?”

“Ugh, I was in such a hurry I must have forgotten to put it on.” My hands flew to my hair, feeling for what was not there. “Let me go get it really quick.”

“Okay,” he answered but I was already running up the stairs.

Rushing to my room I go to my desk and grab my red bandanna along with my backpack and practically run back downstairs. Cameron stood just where I left him, eye’s meeting mine as soon as I entered the room.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, tying the bandanna around my head.

With that, we started walking to school. We had to rush as we were running a bit behind. Yet we made it with a couple minutes to spare.

“Oh, before I forget,” Cameron said as we got to my locker. “My parents invited you and your mom over for dinner.”

“Why?” I asked, closing my locker.

“They heard what happened at the museum and wanted to give their condolences,” he explained.

“Oh, well I don’t think my mom is up for it. But I can go. It’s nice of them to invite us,” I replied after a moment of contemplation.

“Awesome. I’ll text them and let them know.”

Our conversation was cut short by the bell ringing, signaling we need to get to class. With that, we parted ways, promising to meet up at lunch.

People didn’t bother me much today, there seemed to be a different topic of conversation. Emily and Sara weren’t here today, and everyone seemed to be trying to figure out what happened. I guess they never missed a day, so people were coming up with theories. I heard some people say they were so freaked out about what happened in the cafeteria that they moved schools. Others were saying that they went crazy and had to have an exorcism. Either way, I was glad they weren’t here. No doubt if they were, they would try to organize a witch hunt against me. Literally.

Due to the cafeteria being destroyed, lunch was being held outside today. Thankfully they were allowing us to buy food from the convenient store across the street, since I forgot to grab lunch at home because of the fiasco with the blond guy. What did he say his name was again? Ivan? Evan? What was his deal anyway? Whoever he was I hoped I never ran into him again.