DarknessWithin

A novel by: AC Willis

Copyright © 2013 AC Willis

First Edition

United States

All rights reserved. No part of this bookmay be reproduced or transmitted in anyform or by any means, electronic ormechanical, including photocopying,recording, or otherwise without writtenpermission of the author. Inquiries aboutreproduction can be sent to:

AC Willis11034 Springfield Road

Denham Springs, LA 70706acwilliswriting@gmail.com

This book is a work of fiction. Anyresemblance to real people is entirely

coincidence.

To my mother, for teaching me tolove books

To my father, for teaching me howto work hard

To my husband, for blessing mewith the most beautiful children,

And…

To my own struggles with darkness,which have fostered self growth.

Without you all, I would not have astory to tell.

Chapter OneChapter One

Define YourselfDefine Yourself

August 30, 2013

“In the springtime sun, I glisten and glow.The sunshine glistens throughout my pores andeverybody knows my name. I am Awen,descendant of Celtic deity.” I scribble on thepaper before making it into a ball anddepositing it with the collection of beginnings Ihad written today. I am 17, a senior in highschool, and ready to embark upon the mostanticipated journey of a person’s life: college.

My GPA is well above average, I haveparticipated in enough extra-curricular activitiesto occupy a small army and I am active incharity. I can fill up the pages of an Admission’sApplication with ease. Despite these facts, I had

Application with ease. Despite these facts, I had

yet to complete one single admissions essay.

I am already accepted into local collegeswhich require no essay but I am not satisfiedwith that. The college of my dreams is HarvardUniversity. I want to stand among the elite IvyLeague student body and be counted as part ofthe selected few. My father is a professor of thearts there but I have asked him no favors in theadmissions process. I want to know that I havebeen granted access to the prestigiousUniversity based on my own merit.

The application has been completed for acouple of months now but I have had no successwith the Admission’s essay. Two simple wordskicked the edges of my pounding head: “DefineYourself”. As far as Admission’s essays wereconsidered, it should be an easy task. I’m surethe University is looking for the ability to lookinward and describe what you see.

It should be simple to define myself. For allintents and purposes, I appear to be a normalteenage girl. Aside from my bright red hair andstark Grey eyes, which set me apart physically,I am a normal looking teenager. I am captain ofthe cheer leading squad and president of myschool’s Key Club. I take delight in charitywork (at the urging of my father) and have a

work (at the urging of my father) and have a

decent size group of friends. I am in betweenboyfriends but I have dated in the past. I loveclothes, shoes and technology. I watch videoson-line and update my status whenever I go tothe bathroom.

However, these things do not define me.They are merely products of my age andculture. They do not begin to touch the innerdepths of my soul or explain my purpose on thisearth. These things will not help me gainentrance into Harvard University. Writing anessay about these things would paint me asshallow and be off-putting to Harvard’sAdmissions Board. Painting myself as a normalteenage girl will not help me stand out as IvyLeague material.

The problem isn’t knowing myself. I know Iam not shallow. I have spent a fair amount oftime searching the depths of my soul and I amcertain that I know myself, and those aroundme, a lot better than a large majority of myfellow seniors. In fact, I’m certain that I knowmyself better than most adults. The problem isnot peering into the depths of my soul; theproblem is that the things that lie there shouldnever be spoken.

Firstly, my mother died as I was being born.

Firstly, my mother died as I was being born.

This has left me with a mental list of questionsabout myself, and my heritage, that I feel willnever be answered. My dad does not talk abouther often and I don’t even know her ownparent’s names. Before she died, she named meAwen but I have never been given indication asto why she chose the name. Sometimes Iimagine that she took one look at me andsimply decided that Awen is the name suited mebest or that there is some tie to my heritagehidden in the choice. These are just guesses andthe aching feeling of not knowing takes hold ofme every time I try to discover her motivationfor choosing the name.

I know that I share in her love for studyinghumankind and (like her); I plan to studyAnthropology at Harvard University. Lookingthrough her notes one afternoon, I found a studyshe had begun about Celtic Druids. The Druidsdefine Awen as ‘flowing spirit’, explain it in thesame manner that Christian’s explain The HolySpirit, and use it at a chant to end their prayers(much like Amen is used in our society). Shehas given me the gift of an unique name andwhenever I introduce myself to people, it oftenbecomes the subject of prying questions.Embarrassed that I cannot offer a completeexplanation, I simply define it as the “hand ofgod”.

Although I may have simplified theexplanation of my name, the sad truth is that Iam left unknowing why it was chosen in thefirst place. The notes on the Druids were the lastnotes entered into my mother’s logbook beforegoing to the hospital to give birth. As I sat in thefoyer reading her words, I was left with anumbing feeling that my naming was anaccident. She was dying, was that simply thelast thought that had wondered into her head?

If it were not an accident, I ponder, thatwould explain a lot.

My life had been unusual to say the leastand some of the best parts of me are lockedinside a box and hidden carefully within myself.While my most private truths set me apart fromthe average, how do I explain to the HarvardAdmission’s Board that I hear whispers in thewind? The Awen that the world knows is acarefully constructed ruse that I play out dayafter day. I have quilted together all the bestpieces of myself and I wear it around like a coatof many colors.

I see hints of the same thing in peoplearound me every day. I am privet to the truthbehind the stranger’s lie. Whenever I ask a

behind the stranger’s lie. Whenever I ask a

friend how she’s feeling and she responds withan “I’m fine”, sometimes I see a crack aroundthe edges. In those moments, I know the truth. Iknow that the “I’m fine” is her ruse. I seedeeper into her words and realize that what shemeans is “I’m tired of fighting. I am workingday and night on college applications but I don’teven know what I want to be yet.” Why mustwe construct simple lies for the complicatedtruth?

My truth is far more frightening than theuncertainty and fear which most people lie tocover. I hear things. I see things…I can dothings which are terrifying.

When I was 13, Alecster Jones and hisbrothers were teasing Cleary McQuintock in myfront yard. Cleary was a kind hearted boy withtwo different color eyes but he was alwaystargeted by bullies for his differences. I was inthe back yard, using my powers to manipulatethe snow when I heard them teasing him. I ranaround front in his defense and punchedAlecster Jones. In that moment, I had wishedsomething bad would happen to him. As he fellbackward, he stumbled into oncoming trafficand in the front of a moving vehicle.

When I was 15, my stepmother and I had

When I was 15, my stepmother and I had

gotten into an argument. My dad sat in theliving room , pledging not to get involved. Shestood in the kitchen, preparing dinner. As ourvoices rose, I felt a heat rushing through me.I’m not certain whose anger was the greatest butwhen the two came together, in one quakingmoment, the pot rack began to rumble. One byone, the dishes began to fall and we stood insilent awe. We have never spoken of the event.

In fact, we have never spoken of anythingreally substantial. My stepmother plays out oneof the most carefully constructed ruses I haveever seen. Most of the time, she is completelyruled by fear. She is afraid to be judged. Mostof all, she is afraid to be known. She focusesmost greatly on her outward appearance,because she doesn’t want anybody to peerinside. She doesn’t want anybody to see thepieces of her soul that she folds up and tucks inthe corner. I could gather up all her simple liesand fill the Grand Canyon.

The majority of incidents that have occurredare much less terrifying, though. I discovered,at a tender age, that I simply see thingsdifferently than the whole of society. The firstfall breeze, for instance, may signify the needfor a jacket for most. For me, it signifies achange in energy; in power. It is a telling sign

change in energy; in power. It is a telling sign

of a great wheel of nature which is everchurning.

Society teaches me that these things are tobe feared and mocked. “Anything which cannotbe understood is to be hated and feared.” Thisis the zeitgeist of our time. So, instead ofmoving against the current, I ebb along. I flowthrough my life, blending into the societalfabric around me.

There are times when I dream of changingeverything. I imagine myself standing on top ofa building in the public square, completelyexposed for everything that I am. I watch thecrowds in the streets cheering me. They acceptme for who I am and feel comfortable to shedtheir own simple lies for complicated truths.

Unfortunately, I do not do this. I trudgeforward, carrying half of myself around at atime. I compartmentalize. At this currentmoment, it’s college applications and quietreflections. Later, it’s pizza and movies with mybest friend Lacy. For these tasks, I adorndifferent masks and play different roles.

Later tonight, I will shed my skin and travelto an unseen land. I will face real terror anddarkness. I will confront it and I will change it.

darkness. I will confront it and I will change it.

In these moments, I feel more complete than atany other point in the day. Although I am notconcrete in knowing whether my nighttimeambitions are based in fiction or reality, I feelmore real in those moments than any others inmy life.

Maybe I should put that in my Harvardessay:

Awen Murdock: Travels the realms andhunts shadows. Hears whispers from the divinein the wind. Loves pizza and romance novels…

I scoff at the idea as I gather my books,change clothes and head out to meet Lacy.

Chapter TwoChapter Two

Defining NormalityDefining Normality

Lacy Winters is the most normal person Iknow, not that I have a good basis forunderstanding normality. At 5’5 and 140lbs, sheis athletic and witty. Her long blond hair isalways smooth and compliments her soft hazeleyes. She dresses well and concerns herself withfashion but with moderation. Lacy is the type ofgirl who will adorn a hip ensemble during theday and then run errands in her track suit afterschool. Perhaps normal isn’t the best word todescribe Lacy. Perhaps the correct word to useis balanced.

Of all the things about Lacy, it is her abilityto just be that I admire the most. There is anunprecedented ease about her. She does not tryand form to society’s opinions about her.

and form to society’s opinions about her.

Instead, she simply exists and in doing so, shefits in perfectly. One of the things I love mostabout Lacy is her laugh. It never seems forcedor fake and when she laughs and the air aroundher expands to greet the room. When Lacylaughs, you laugh with her…that’s just the wayit is.

Of course Lacy holds her fair share ofsimple lies. She stays true to the “I’m fine” lieand “That sweater is great on you” lie.However, she is less cracked and tatteredaround the edges than most people. She hassecrets but they aren’t bottomless pitsconstantly tempting to drag her under. Lacy’ssecrets are much more manageable.

When I’m with Lacy, I almost forget myown differences. I almost feel normal. Maybeit’s because she’s the most honest person Iknow. She is as comfortable with her ruses asshe is her reality. She isn’t afraid to peel back afew layers occasionally and allow strangers topeer inside.

By the time I arrive at her house, Lacy haspopped a bag of popcorn, set up a selection ofmovies, and ordered pizza. She is setting on thelove seat in her family’s theater room and as Iwalk in to greet her, she gives me her most

walk in to greet her, she gives me her most

honest smile. This is my favorite Lacy smile. Itis a smile which says, genuinely, I am happy tosee you.

Lacy gives me the rundown of her day aswe wait for pizza to arrive and then we move onto selecting a movie. I am amazed at how easyit is to simply exist in this moment. I’m notlooking for secret messages, hidden lies orburied agendas. The sensations that I feel arerelaxed and muted; not rushing andoverwhelmed. I think for a moment about howeasy it must be to constantly exist in thismanner.

Lacy sits across from me, texting on herphone and gossiping about school. She is ahuman, in the most natural state. In thismoment, she is a ray of sunshine in the earlymorning but as life pulls at her, she will darkenand tear. She will experience heart break andsorrow as great as her joy and she will rebound.She never concerns herself with anythinggreater than herself, she simply moves forward.She simply experiences life.

Spending the evening with Lacy fills mewith light. Basking in her normality, I try it on. Iwear it like a new layer of skin and loosemyself in the thought of it. However, I am

myself in the thought of it. However, I am

reminded that I am not suspended in the samestate of normality that she is. I do notexperience life as simply as she does. My life issomething different; something unnatural.

Before night falls, I return home. My headis reeling with thoughts of Harvard, Lacy andlife. I walk into my room, noticing the catch onmy window is broken. A gentle fall breezeblows through the window and a familiarsensation flows through me. I stand for amoment, allowing it to flow through every fiberof my being.

This moment is more normal to me than anentire day’s worth of moments. I am alone withthe wind: alone with my thoughts and for thefirst time today, I am alive. There is a familiartension in the air as it surrounds me. I feel itrushing throughout my body and tugging at theedges of my soul. For a moment, I am balanced:I am whole. I am both knowing and known.

Chapter ThreeChapter Three

DistractionDistraction

I spend some time in my room beforemoving through the rest of the day’s motions.Downstairs, my dad, Diana and I make smalltalk. These moments feel wasted as energy isexpended without result. What good is chattingabout the weather when I could be outsidemyself; experiencing it? What do we gain fromwasting moments on this menial small talk,instead of making true and honest connections?

I retire to my room, exhausted. It is 9pm ona Friday night. Tonight I will fore-go theexperiences of teenage normality. I will notspend the evening on “a friend of a friend’s”front yard. I will not go to the movies with aprospective boyfriend, have dinner with thegirls, or spend the evening with Lacy, watching

girls, or spend the evening with Lacy, watching

movies and gossiping. Not tonight. Tonight Imust rest for tomorrow is not my own.

I am tired but as the world chirps onwardaround me, it feels too early to sleep. I clickopen my laptop and look for a distraction frommy thoughts. I check my email which really justmeans that I delete all the junk mail that hasbeen collecting there for weeks. Then, I updatemy status:

Staying in tonight. Art benefit for charitytomorrow…#charityrocks.

I truly love social networking. I can send amessage to my aunt in Arizona, make a newbestie from London and let my dad know thatdinner is ready by the click of a mouse. I can doall this without putting on any makeup,worrying about my outfit or producing painfullyfake smiles. In the world of social media, I amboth connected and disconnected to the worldaround me. It really is a perfect balance forsomebody like me.

I spend an hour posting and reposting,commenting and texting before I realize that Ihave a psychology paper due Monday.Tomorrow, I will be busy with a charity eventwith my dad and I are attending together.Sunday is church followed by Sunday dinner

Sunday is church followed by Sunday dinner

with the extended family and an evening at thesalon with Lacy. There is no time for me to putit off so I sign out, mute my phone and beginwriting.

The paper is about the science of sleep andthe meaning of dreams. I begin by writing:

Sleeping is one of the most mystical aspectsof human life. At night it appears that life blinksshut for a while. Humans strip off their rusesand discard their simple lies for quiet rest andhonest dreams. Everything sleeps. Plants,animals, and humans unite in their need toclose shut and exist in a natural state ofanimated suspension. Even the lights in the citysleep. This is a true testament that humanprogress is drenched in imitation of nature.

Sleep is scientific. It can, and has been,poked, prodded and tested. It can be explained.

Dreams, on the other hand, are not so easyto test and nearly impossible to explain. Forsome, dreams are a distant reminder of thehuman sub-consciousness. For others, dreamsare illusive and distant. They are either neverhad, or never remembered.

Dreams can be aching reminders of the

Dreams can be aching reminders of the

past, indicate the future or be frighteningdisplays of human terror. As the waking mindcloses, humans are left exposed and vulnerable.There are no simple lies in a person’s dreams,making them more real than an entire day’sworth of fake smiles and forced emotion.

I stop writing and think about my words sofar. If dreams are any indication of the humansubconscious, what do mine say about me? Iponder as I tap the eraser of my pen against thebook of paper in front of me. If dreamsrepresent the honesty behind the lie, my truth isfrightening. I re-read, revise and settle forsticking to the facts and disregarding my ownopinions about the subject. I make no mentionof mysticism and when I am finished, mywritten thoughts seem normal and welladjusted. The descriptions are bland and taintedwith facts but they are not implicating andpointed. I tuck the papers away, wishing I hadthe guts to be more candid in the writing of it.

It is 11pm and my eyes are heavy as I closemy computer, turn off the light and settle intobed. The night around me is quiet and stale. Thecity slows and I feel a sense of collective sleep.I feel the humans around me as they climb intobed, close their eyes and drift into their honestdreams. One by one, they blink out like the city

dreams. One by one, they blink out like the city

lights and I begin to blink, as well.

In those quiet moments before my consciousbrain numbs, I think of my mom.

What did you dream about? I wonder and Idrift off to sleep.

Chapter FourChapter Four

Shadow WorldShadow World

I startle at the absence of my body. What Iam now transcends my physical being andrepresents the nonphysical aspects of myself. Itis a part of me that I keep tucked deep downinside, hidden by a carefully constructed outershell. It is a body made of spiritual matter andrepresents everything about me that isunnatural.

The body of my dreams is a stark contrast tomy physical one. My bright red curls and starkGrey eyes are replaced with smooth, flowingsilver and deep, glowing amber. My physicalbody is athletic and stout while my dream bodyis waifish and thin. Here, I float through theshadows with soft, careful steps.

In this world, I must adorn a cloak ofshadows. It is long, flowing and tattered at theend. It moves without me as the material for itwas once the living shadow of a twisted tree.On my first night here, it was stitched togetherwith beams of the moon by my companion, Cai.

Thinking of that night, damp chills flowthroughout my body. I must blend here, Iremind myself as I wind the path toward myfavorite hilltop in this twisted forest. I pull mycloak tighter and trudge toward a great, gnarledtree on the top of the hill.

In these short moments, I have time toreflect over the events that had brought me here.Until I was 13, I was set apart by my peers byslight differences. To overcome this, I had tolearn to compartmentalize and blend. On theeve of my 13th birthday, however, I changed. Iwas capable of doing things that weren’tnormal…things that were unnatural. It startedwith little things like the ability to drop thetemperature of a room or the ability to sense themoods of everyone around me.

I saw these things as harmless. Although Ihid it away from everyone in my life, Ipracticed in private and these powers steadilyescalated. I would dream of the good I could do

escalated. I would dream of the good I could do

with them; the lives I could change. I never,once, thought the powers to be evil orcorrupted, until the day that Alecster Jonesended up on the hood of a car. It was on thevery day that I traveled to this shadow world forthe first time.

On that night, I was scared and alone; rolledinto a ball under the shadow of a tree. I wassurrounded by indistinguishable figures. Mylight was the only thing shining in that vastforest of condemned souls and they werehungry for it. They were moving upon me withintent to rip it from me. They were trying toconsume me.

I wept with the fear of a terrified 13 year oldgirl and my body shook at the absence of lightand evil intent in their eyes. It was the mosthopeless I had ever felt. As the inevitability ofthe end of my life closed in on me, I slammedshut. For a moment, the beaming lightdissipated and was replaced with mockingdarkness.

This bewildered the stalking shadows.Confounded, they froze. A moment ofuncertainty hung in the air as my mindregistered my options. I moved quickly andclimbed to the top of the tree. There I stayed

climbed to the top of the tree. There I stayed

hidden as I watch the shadows descend.Breathing a sigh of relief, something brokeinside me and a bright light burst from inside.

The lurking shadows returned and were onhigh alert and there was no place for me to hide;no way for me to run. Out of the darkness, camea deafening screech. A strange sense of hopefilled the air as I watched the shadows dissipate,one at a time. I was bewildered by the eventsthat had just taken place and blinded by thedarkness. I could not see the source of the noise.

I sat at the top of that mammoth, darkenedtree for what seemed to be ages. I was waitingbut for what, I didn’t know. Was I awaiting asavior to scoop me up and carry me out of thiswasteland or was it a hungry soul whopreferred one on one odds in my consumption? Iwas trapped: there was nothing to do but wait.

The moments that I sat in the top of thattree, Alecster Jones was all I could think about.I had wished an accident upon him and it hadinstantly happened. I had decided that this waspunishment for my actions earlier in the day. Ihad been given a gift and I directed it in themost malicious manner. Now, I would pay andsoon I would be a walking shadow, just like theones that had tried to consume me. Just like the

ones that had tried to consume me. Just like the

last lurking shadow, my unlikely savior.

“It wasn’t you” the voice rang in my headwithout an uttering sound. There was somethingstrangely familiar about it…it was the voice ofthe wind.

“What?” I spoke out loud, searching for itsorigin.

It came to me again, in a slow silent rhythm.“The accident with Alecster Jones wasn’t yourfault.” I basked in these words. I clung to thefamiliarity of them. “Like most things in yourlife, it was beyond your control. It was thestring of fate pulling you along.”

“How...” I began.

“Don’t speak, you’ll be heard.” It camequickly and warningly.

I took a deep breath in, focused my mindand spoke a language I had spoken so manytimes. I spoke the language of the trees, thewind and all things without a voice. “ShowYourself.” It was a simple sentence but I reveledin it. For the first time in my life, I felt trulywhole.

I heard the crack of the limb before Iactually saw him. He was a medium-sized owl.With dark black feathers and glowing withpurple eyes, he was both shadow and light. Igazed at him for a moment, stunned at hisbeauty.

“My name is Cai.” He offered. There wasshakiness about it and I sensed an uneasegrowing within him.

“I am…”

“Awen, I know. Come, we have a lot to talkabout.” He covered me in the cloak and led meto a great, twisted tree on the top of a hill. Itwas the biggest tree in the forest and he showedme how to enter it. He made it my safe haven.

That night he explained the mysticalworkings of the world to me. He explainedhuman fate and the goal of the diviners tomaintain balance in the world. He describedhow diviners move in and out of human lives,guiding them and directing them toward theirfates.

He told me that he was a diviner and that hehad been there in the moment that thealtercation between Alecster Jones and I had

altercation between Alecster Jones and I had

occurred. Confusion played on his face and Icould tell that although he was sure it hadn’tbeen me who had caused the accident, hewasn’t sure who or what had. We talked forhours that night and I could sense somethingwithin Cai which he was hiding. He was beinghonest to me but simple lies invaded his truth. Iknew, in that moment, that Cai had his ownboxes stuffed with parts of him that he did notwant to show me.

That was four years ago and since then Ihave traveled here to meet with him nightly.Some nights we hide in the great tree, talking.Other nights, danger lurks and we are forcedoutside, into the shadows. I was clumsy at firstand brought danger upon us. Eventually Ilearned to drift along without making sound orfoot print. I learned to fight and I learned tohunt.

As I approach our meeting place, Cai iswaiting for me. The contrast between his darkblack feathers and the silver tufts of hair on hisbody create an omniscient glow which mimicsthe moon. His purple eyes gaze at me and Iinstantly know that tonight is a hunting night.

In this place, hunting is crucial for survival.

In this place, hunting is crucial for survival.

At first, I remained hidden in the shadows whileCai defended us. It was my only choice. I didnot have the confidence necessary to fight backand Cai was insistent that I not try. All thatfaded away as I pulled back the layers andproved that I was too strong to back down in afight.

Now we’re a solid pair. We moveseamlessly, reading the meaning in eachmovement of our partner. We engage in a danceof dichotomy and harmony. Together we stalkand devour. I have never been so known thanwhen I’m hunting with Cai. He understands myintention without a murmur from my lips and healways counters. There is a unspoken promiseof protection between us and when I’m huntingwith him, I feel whole.

Tonight we follow a beam of light down atwisted path. Fog creeps up around our anklesand we trudge forward. The footsteps are heavyand clumsy. The scent of fear rises in mynostrils as Cai hastens his pace. I pause,slinking between two shadows. I remain hiddenand study the vibrations.

The vibrations tug at my edges as I draw adeep breath. Another figure becomes apparent,slinking along behind the light. The wandering

slinking along behind the light. The wandering

spirit is being tracked. The figure moves fromshadow to shadow, taking the shape of eachone. It does this without detection and only thefeeling of it allows me to pinpoint where it is.His vibrations are low and taunting.

It is certain that this will not be a quickhunt. It is also certain that nothing good cancome of the being making contact with thewanderer. Beings with vibrations this low donot strike quickly. They do not simply feed offany light that is present. Beings like this stalk.They mock and torture and push their prey tothe edge of psychological distress. When theytake form and attack, they consume the entirebeing. After the battle, there will be nothing leftof the wanderer but an empty shell.

This is a very dangerous being, I confirmand the light cast by the wanderer growsbrighter as it moves toward us. Cai is abovestalking and I await the signal. The being stepsout of a shadow and into a form. The seams ofhim cling to the shadows as his shadow bodyseparates itself from its shadowy cloak. His faceis twisted in a gnarled look of hunger andsatisfaction as he moves closer to the wanderer.Before he can make contact with the wanderer,Cai swoops in on him from above. Screechingfills the air and I rush toward the being.

Cai engages before I arrive and as heconsumes the shadows, I pull back my cloak.Exposing my own light, I move quickly toinfuse it into the shadow being. My pure lightfills him and he quakes from the inside. He ripsat the seam, spilling tattered pieces of shadowand beams of light into the darkness aroundhim. The shadow being is no more and thewanderer is safe from harm’s way.

I pull my cloak tight and move carefullytoward the trembling wanderer. We rushforward away from the location of the battleand I help the wanderer find her way home. Caiand I glide hopefully toward the great tree.

“Great hunt.” He whispers in my mind.

I tug at the cloak, sending a solid beam oflight toward him. It shimmers against him andhe delights in it.My own light boasts at the sightof him in this moment. I don’t know whatevents brought him here or what his motivationsfor protecting the wanderers here are. I’m noteven sure if he’s a light being or a dark one butI know he is good. As he flows through mybeams of light, they flow through him and Istand in admiration of his beauty. Before wereturn to the great tree, I feel the familiar

return to the great tree, I feel the familiar

tugging of waking moments and I fadeseamlessly back into reality.

Chapter FiveChapter Five

ArtArt

6:00 amMy alarm clock beckons earlier than I wish

it would on a Saturday morning. I awake to theaching feeling of stepping into a new reality. Iam groggy from my sleep but as my sensesawaken, I smell bacon frying in the kitchen. Ahint of sentimentalism flows through me and Iam motivated to get out of bed.

My thoughts are scrambled and unfocusedas I get dressed and brush my teeth. Themorning grogginess dissipates as I comb myhair and pull it back into a pony tail. Today is amakeup free, jeans and t-shirt day. I carefullychoose clothes that are nice but disposable. Idon’t want a favorite outfit ruined as I’mpainting with the children.

In the kitchen, dad has prepared breakfast.He is standing at the island, reading an artmagazine. He is getting older and his black hairis peppered around the edges by a dull Grey. Aschildren, we are self interested and often ignorethe aging of our parents. As we grow and gainthe ability to look beyond ourselves, newrevelations about our parents come to light. Thisis one of those rare moments when a child isfaced with the mortality of their parent. Thetoll of the years he has lived and the battles hehas fought are clear to me on his face and Istand back in awe of it.

The edges of his dark brown eyes had oncebeen smooth but are now with muddled withchoppy lines. These lines tell the story of hislife. The deepest lines, I know, have come fromthe death of my mother. They are the hardenedlines of a grieving husband, alone in the worldwithout the warmth of his wife’s love.

These deep lines branch with thin ones,caused by the task of raising me alone. Theselines are softer. They are lines of constant worrybut hold hints of laughter and love along theway. Unfortunately, these lines are the onlyevidence left of my mother’s death. My daddoes not speak of it and for all my ability, I

does not speak of it and for all my ability, I

have never gaze beyond his wall at the painhidden within. He has managed to tuck awayhis pain, adorn his own ruse and move forwardbut the effort this has taken lives within thosewrinkles and in the distance between us.

Standing in the door way of our kitchen, Ifeel honest joy at the thought of spending theday with him. Noticing me, he glows with thelight of a father proudly gazing into the soul ofhis daughter. He greets me with a warm smileand I return it gleefully. The lines around hismouth are less pronounced, denoting that he hadmanaged to maintain a smile even in the darkestmoments of his life.

“Are you ready, Wen?” He asks as I setdown for breakfast.

“Yes, indeed.” I reply.

We eat to the sound of our conversation. Wetalk about the charity event and plan for the dayto come. The words hang on the outside of uslike a shell. They are words spoken out ofnecessity rather than meaning. A simple liehangs on the edges of his words and I know heis holding something back.

I finish my meal and clear my plate. As he

I finish my meal and clear my plate. As he

does the same, I ask him if he ready to go. Hisreservation speaks for him before he opens hismouth, and I know that we will not be alonetoday.

“Sorry, Wen.” He explains. “Diana justwants to take an interest in my work.”

I excuse his explanation, hiding my trueemotion with a ruse. I tell him that I’m excitedabout spending the day with both of them andhe warms the generosity of it.

The complicated truth is that I am notexcited about spending the day with both mydad and Diana. The moments that were mineand his alone were so few that I cling to them. Ihad graciously welcomed Diana into manyaspects of our life together but art is mine andhis alone.

She had never attempted to engage in thispart of our relationship before and the thoughtof it tickles me with anger. I am generally notan angry person, except as it relates to Diana.Something about her worms its way past mylight and pokes at the darkness within. Mostly, Imaintain my composure in the face of it but Ican tell that it will be a challenge for me, today.

I set alone with my thoughts and whenDiana and my father come to greet me, I fold upmy anger and stashed it away. I fold it carefully,hoping it will be fine in my hidden box. I canonly hope that I have locked it up tight enough.

Chapter SixChapter Six

Paint and BloodPaint and Blood

We walk into the community center, 30minutes late and sweating from the effort ofcarrying out supplies in. By “we”, I amreferring to my father and I. Diana cannot carryany boxes because she has just gotten amanicure. Diana explains that it is important shedoesn’t mess up her manicure because she has ameeting with a new supplier Monday.

“Appearances are everything.” She chirps aswe set the boxes down and begin preparing forthe day. I do a quick inventory of myself.Drenched in sweat and without makeup, I mustfall short to her standards in every way possible.As we set up, I compare Diana against everyother person in the room.

Her silk dress and designer heels are a starkcontrast against the jeans, t-shirts and flip flopsthroughout the room. I am happy that everyoneelse in the room have chosen function overformality and dressed in a way that wasappropriate for the event. Compared toeveryone else, Diana stands out as the onlyfashionista in the room. All the canvases in theroom stare at her in mocking glory for she is theonly piece of art that had already been painted.She is beautiful and I hate her for it.

Diana quickly becomes the theme of theday. As we are setting up, she talks about fabricchoices and buttons. When the children beginpouring in, she approaches the mothers.Conversations about fall fashion and discountsflow between them. I realize in this momentthat Diana’s sudden enthusiasm about art isdriven by raising sales, rather than bonding withher family.

The notion of it rises in my brain and stemsa rumbling of anger from inside me. It rolls overme like waves and I fight to contain it before itbreaks free and rushes over my shores. She isstanding a few feet in front of me and as theanger burst from inside me, a child trips.

He tumbles toward her, struggling to

He tumbles toward her, struggling to

maintain balance. She moves toward him withher arms outstretched in an effort to steady him.The scissors in his hand cut a deep gash in thepalm of her hand. Blood gushes from her palmand into the floor as the event staff work tobandage her hand. Instant apologies andpanicked attempts to treat the wound shufflearound her. For a moment her eyes shift towardme and she stares into my soul.

It was my fault, I think. And she knows it

Chapter SevenChapter Seven

Light in the DarknessLight in the Darkness

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Waking up from a night in the shadowrealm, my mind is groggy and aching. Theaccident with my step mom had lain heavily onmy soul and as I entered astral form, my lightwas muted. I shone brightly enough to cloak butthe difference must have been noticeablebecause Cai decided we would forego huntingfor the night.

It was a rare night without incident as wefound shelter in the great tree. Cai is astoryteller and he fashioned an ancient fairytalefor me. The story he told me was laced withfairies, giants and magical creatures of everyshape and size. Not sure if it was set in a

shape and size. Not sure if it was set in a

physical or mystical world, I listened to hiswords carefully.

As he spoke, my soul was lifted from the pitof darkness encapsulating it. The guilt whichhad taken seat in the deepest recesses inside mehad subsided and I was filled with the magicalwondering of a child. In the darkness of thetree, I lifted the edge of the cloak and allowedglimmering light to flow around us.

Together we were suspended in the rushingemotion of it. A sacred elated joy is extendedfrom my being to his and he softens to it. Theflashes in his eyes register a sense of pridewhich is a mystery to me but compounding tomy own joy. While he was delighting increating joy within me, I was delighting increating pride within him.

My earthly body was slow to register mysoul’s pride and human reminders of myprevious guilt soaked into me as the dayprogressed. During the morning’s churchservice, I had to relive the story of origin forDiana’s injuries over and over. One by one,concerned congregation members approachedand offered kind thoughts and prayers for herinjuries.

With each motion of empathy, I withdrewfurther into the corners of myself. I imagined alarge florescent arrow above my head,implicating me as the cause of the accident. Inmy mind, I paint a picture of a witch beingburned at the stake for mingling with the devil.

As the service moves on and the church fillswith joyful song, my light is ignited. By the endof the service, the edges of my guilt havesubsided and I am full of grace. In this moment,I feel a connection to the divine which equatesto the rolling winds in the bows of a great tree. Iam as full of light right now as I was in thegreat tree with Cai last night.

The mingling of bodies at the end of theservices strikes more uncomfortableconversation about Diana’s injuries. Feelingimplicated, I look around nervously but nobodypoints their finger in my direction. Nobodylooks at me as the girl with “supernaturalpowers” who “speaks to the devil in the wind”and creates accidents which result in tearingflesh and flowing blood.

Would they accept me, if they knew? Iwonder as I slink out the door of the church. Orwould I be crucified for my differences?

Dad is waiting with the early preparationsof dinner when we arrive home. He neverattends church services with Diana and me.Pleased that dinner is already started, Dianatakes over preparations as she cites all thereasons why dad should have attended churchwith us this morning. The conversation takes asharp theological turn and my head reels. Thepreparation of dinner becomes a catalyst for thefaith versus logic debate. Somewhere in themiddle of the two, I do not weigh in on theconversation. As the tension in the air builds, Iexcuse myself to my room until dinner.

Lacy has already arrived when I pull intothe parking lot of the downtown café. It is asmall café and a popular meeting place for thecreative and the young. Inside, the soft flowingsound of Indie Folk music gives the small logbuilding a rustic feel. I find my way to the tablewhere Lacy is already setting. As I approach,she smiles at me from the rim of her Late. Iorder an ice coffee and as we wait, we fill theair with small talk about music, school andfashion. These moments are easy andconversation flows between us withoutexpectation.

Lacy is glowing, today. Her hair is pulled

Lacy is glowing, today. Her hair is pulled

back out of her face, highlighting her eyes.Setting across from me, she leans forward whenshe speaks and shifts position in her seat often.Excitement and wonder at the prospect ofLacy’s intention intrigues me and so I begin topoke and prod at her secret, begging it to revealitself.

“Is that a new shirt?” I offer, hoping themention of something new will nudge theconversation along.

“No.” She answers simply, road blockingmy attempt.

“Well, there’s *something* new about youtoday, I can’t quite put my finger on it.” I relent.

“No, nothing new” She smiles

“Nothing exciting” I pry further.

I see her secret slowly turning inward as sheavoids the subtext in my comments. Theexcitement building within me is too much andit bursts forward without prompting.

“Lacy Winters, you have a secret! Rulenumber one of best friends: never keep secrets”The rules were put in place when we were in

The rules were put in place when we were in

the 6th grade and we hardly recite them now.They are reserved for emergencies or when onefriend is refusing to share something seeminglyexciting.

“Okay, okay. You know me too well,” Lacybegins and then a sense of reservation hangs inthe air. “Do you remember Alecster Jones?”

Memories of crushing bones and bloodtainted flesh come to mind and I cringe. “Lacy,you haven’t…”

“No, no…it’s not like that” She exclaims,surprised at my innuendo.

“Well, the Fall formal is coming up and agirl has to start looking early if she’s going toget a good date” I roll my eyes at the thought ofit and she glares at me expectantly. Withreservation she continues, “We’re meeting himlater.”

“Lacy, this is not a good idea”

“He’s bringing a friend” She lends,teasingly.

I begin my objections with the obvious. Thelast time I had seen Alecster Jones was when he

last time I had seen Alecster Jones was when he

was being carried off my lawn on a stretcher.Before I make my way down the list to I’m toobusy to date, she has interrupted me.

“Rule number four: best friends are alwayshonest” It hung in the air between us. She hasseen my bluff and raised it. I roll my eyes at herand concede to hear her out but I know that Iwill not like what is coming next. “It’s been 6months since you and whatshisname called itquits.”

“Remy” I corrected.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Whatkind of name is Remy? You always date theseintrospective artist types. When you break up,you spend months moping around about it. It’snot healthy.” She sighs and takes a sip of herLate. My coffee arrives and I politely tip thebarista before making serious eye contact withLacy again. She rolls her eyes at me and leansforward before continuing. “This is it! This issenior year, we don’t get another shot at this.”

“So what is this, an intervention?”

“You can call it what you want. I just wantto go on a double date with my best friend. Iwant to flirt, giggle and hopefully talk my way

want to flirt, giggle and hopefully talk my way

into a good date for the fall formal. You cancompletely ignore Cleary if you want…but youshouldn’t”

My mind fumbles to make the connectionbetween Cleary and Alecster. How can they bebest friends? When had this happened and whyam I just noticing it? Perhaps Lacy had a point.I have spent a large portion of my life puttingon a ruse. I have stood back and gazed at lifewithout experiencing it. I decided that I wouldgive teenage normality a chance, even if thethought of Cleary and Alecster in the sameroom makes me want to vomit.

“So, I can assume we’re not going to thespa.” I offered, reluctantly.

“We’re going bowling…wait we? Does thismean you’re in?” Excitement rushes over herand it spills out onto into the air around us. Sheleans across the table and gives me a generoushug. It is the type of honest hug that one wouldexpect from a best friend. It is the kind of hugwhich says “I owe you one”.

We arrived at the bowling alley before theboys. I tried to mute my cynicism as my innercommentary notes that we had time to go toLacy’s and (painfully) conduct outfit changes,

Lacy’s and (painfully) conduct outfit changes,

hair and makeup. My mind turns to thoughts ofdeath as I ponder what the delay could be.

The boys arrive 15 minutes later. The smellof danger and taunting trouble fill the air asAlecster Jones approaches us. He has growntaller and stronger, and the growth looks goodon him. He is sporting a black and greycheckered shirt with skulls in negative spacepaired with skinny jeans and checkered skatingshoes. A myriad of chains lead from his front toback pocket. His dark black hair is combedback, highlighting his deep brown eyes and hisolive skin.

It feels like it has been ages since theincident and I have purposely avoided him sincethen. I do not like the feelings of persecutionthat stir within me when I am around him.Surprisingly, he greets and hugs me first. Iguess the persecution is one-sided. I consider asthe warm of his energy surrounds me inembrace.

I am bewildered by this thought whenCleary Mcquintock comes into view. His torsohas grown, evening the overall proportion of hisbody. He is still very tall but it seems to fit himmore now. He is dressed more relaxed in awhite t-shirt and black jeans with the same

white t-shirt and black jeans with the same

checkerboard skating shoes. His hair hasstraightened out. Now, it sets in shaggy arrayaround his head.

His eyes are the same familiar amber andblue two-toned that I loved when we were kids.The kindness was still there, too and I sighed abreath of relief. Being best friends with Alecsterhasn’t completely ruined him, I suppose.

He greets me with a hug. Although it ismore nervous and reserved than the strong one-armed greeting that I received from Alecster, itis honest and warm. It is the kind of hug thatseems to say “It’s been too long, old friend”. Ismiled in delight at this and the pleasure onLacy’s face is undeniable.

The conversation begins as a simplegreeting between old friends. It is slow andhalting as we work to feel each other out. In allits awkwardness, it is nice. It is exciting, likethe first day of school and I revel in thenormality of it all. Just as I’m beginning to openup, the conversation takes a sharp, twisted turn.

“I saw you, Saturday.” Cleary begins.

“Oh…you did?” I respond with surprise.

“Yeah, it was at that charity event at thecommunity center.” My stomach begins to knotas memories from the day flood my mind. Ihaven’t talked to Lacy about what happened toDiana yet. I don’t want to talk about it, and Iresent Cleary for brining it up. I try to shut thememories off but I feel a familiar anger rising inthe pit of me. I don’t want to remember. Notnow. Not in this moment when normality is soclose .

Picking up on the conversation, Lacychimes in with “Oh yeah, how was the charityevent, Awen. I know you were excited about it.I saw your status.”

Before I could answer, Cleary answers with,“It was awesome! Awen’s step mom wasbrutally attacked by some kid with scissors.”

Shock registers on Lacy’s face as thethought of me not telling her about it plays outin her mind. I glare at Cleary and read theresponses to the statement on the faces of myfriends. Reactions vary between Alecster andLacy. Lacy registers surprise and concern whileAlecster revels in the bloodletting of it.

Anger builds inside me. It must be apparentbecause Cleary immediately apologizes for

because Cleary immediately apologizes for

being insensitive. “I just thought maybe youdidn’t get along that well with her because youdidn’t rush to help her. I was coming to talk toyou when it happened, that’s how I saw it. I’mreally sorry.”

He is genuine in his apology and I amworking to fold up my anger and tuck it into acarefully guarded corner when Alecster makes acomment that tugs at the edges of it and pulls itout for everybody to see. “You know, Awen.You sure do have a knack for spilling blood.”The manner in which he says it isn’t implicatingor harsh but it crawls inside of me and pokes atmy guilt. It is too late before I register it as ajoke and before I can recall, my open hand isheaded for the side of Alecster’s face.

The print of my hand on his face is whiteand stinging but it only lasts for a moment. Ididn’t hit him hard and he is not angered by it.Slowly, heavy silence rises from the scene. Iawait disgust and condemnation from myfriends. Before I can apologize, the silence isbroken by nervous laughter—Alecster’s was thefirst. His laugh is a light which eases the tensionand the anger within me slowly dissipates.

I felt relieved that my anger has resulted instinging flesh, rather than flowing blood and I

stinging flesh, rather than flowing blood and I

bask in the normality of it all. Before I know it,we are bowling as if it had never happened. Theevening ends with the exchange of phonenumbers and promises to see each other atschool tomorrow.

The ride home becomes a period of quietreflection. I think of how darkened I hadbecome after Saturday’s incident and how Ihave been repaired slowly, by the people aroundme. I had taken a piece of light from Cai thatnight in the great tree and sown it together witha piece of light from Lacy, Alecster and Clearyto create a blanket for my soul. It isn’t acomplete repair for the guilt I am feeling but itis a good patch. It is enough to keep me fromtearing at the seams. It is enough to make mefeel normal

Chapter EightChapter Eight

Fighting SleepFighting Sleep

I lay sleepless. For hours I toss and turn,avoiding the pleading weight of my eyelids anddrifting mind. It is a fight between my pillowsand I as they draw me inward and I pull againstthem in protest. I do not want to sleep, becauseI do not want these rare feelings of normality tofade against the background of loomingshadows and beckoning prey. I do not want tobe reminded of the dual aspects of myself whichthreaten to steal normality from me.

Finally, the numbing of my arms win overmy brain and feelings of falling spreadthroughout my body. My spirit separates and Iflow toward the shadow realm. Hurrying tomake up for lost time, I arrive at the great treequickly but Cai is not there. There is no familiar

quickly but Cai is not there. There is no familiar

greeting or indication of what the night’sactivities will be. In the place of Cai, there isonly silence. Far into the shadow forest, I hearthe swooshing of wind through the trees.

The speed and urgency of the noise denotesthat the being is flying fast. It is a being who isafraid…a being that is running from something.Fear collects in my throat as a slow realizationrises up inside me. In a dash I flutter toward thefading sounds of flapping wings.

I must float faster, I urge myself. I mustexceed his speed to catch up with him. I don’tknow how far the stalking being has chased Caiaway from the tree but I know I must catch upwith him. I know he is in trouble, and I have tohelp him…I have to protect him.

The chase comes into view as I top a hill.Cai is flying high and through the twists andturns of the trees, making him a hard target. Thestalking being is chasing at speeds which rivalthat of Cai. He is tall and stretching, giving hima good reach. The shadows which comprise hisbody are woven. Like shadow wicker, he isstretching his limbs upward towards the wingsof the trees in passing.

He is manipulating the shadows around him

He is manipulating the shadows around him

and causing them to stretch in front of theretreating owl. Cai has no time to plan an attackas he is focusing on dodging the being’s attacks.Unsure of his game plan, I scramble for one ofmy own. It is clear that a frontal attack on thisbeing will result in becoming entangled in acocoon of doom by his mocking shadows.

I know that the most useful weapon in thiswar is the element of surprise and I’m thesurprise. I stop for a moment to carefully pickup a long stick. Then, I make haste to recoverthe time lost by this action. As I rush forward, Imentally prepare for the battle ahead of me.When I am close enough to the shadow, I take adeep breath and rush for it. Anticipating mymove, Cai flies back and forth in front of thebeing, causing it to stop and try to pin himdown. I move quietly and stop just behind thebeing. Then, I focus all my light and force itdown my arm and into the stick I picked up. Asmy light moves past the edge of my cloak andinto the stick, I visualize a great, glowingsword.

The image becomes concrete in my mindand the thought of it transforms the stick in myhand. Without giving the being a chance tosense me behind him, I move quickly and withintent. Targeting the areas near where the

intent. Targeting the areas near where the

woven shadows intertwine, I push the swordinto the shadow being. Once inserted, I allow asurge of light to flow through my arm and intothe blade. A deathly scream hallows throughoutthe forest as the being implodes. I recall mylight, being careful to fully cloak and looktoward the sky.

Cai is no longer in front of me but behind,whooshing through the air in the direction of thegreat tree. I follow, making haste and closingthe gap easily. Once I am closer to him, hisvoice quakes throughout me.

“Where did that come from?” He exclaimsin discovery of my new ability.

He always seems to be in anticipation of meand this is the closest he has ever come at beingsurprised by my actions. Perhaps it is becausethis is the first time I have acted without hiscues. In this moment, I feel like his savior.Waves of pride and appreciation wash over meand I consider if this is what heroes feel like.Somewhere in the back of my mind, there is anaching reminder of darkness. I push it back andbask in the moon’s soft glow.

For a moment, I forget about bowling withLacy. Engaged mutual elation with Cai, my

Lacy. Engaged mutual elation with Cai, my

notions of normality shift away from the humanworld. Everything physical in my life is behindme now. This moment becomes more real andtangible than the memory of the evening and Icling to it. I bask in the feelings of familiaritythis forest holds for me and for a moment, Iconsider never returning to my physical body.

In the human realm, normality requiresstepping out of familiar bounds and grasping atit. For me, it is an unattainable and everchanging illusion. Tonight, twisting the familiarpath toward the great tree blanketed byshadows, I feel normal. When I am with Cai, Ifeel as if I’m stepping into myself and beingtruly known. I feel whole…I feel at home.

Chapter NineChapter Nine

TemptationTemptation

Some mornings, I wake with distantmemories of the shadow world. Other times, Iwake with aching reminders of my nighttimeactivities that stick with me throughout the day.Today, I awake slowly and I can feel theshadow world folding itself into the crevices ofthe wall, into the darkness of the closet andunder my bed.

The darkness of the shadow world rolls offbut I am left with a reminder of the night’sevents. I feel strong in my human body andconfident to face the day. Memories of wieldingthe sword of light leave me feeling powerfuland hungry to push the boundaries of myabilities. This is an unfamiliar sensation to me,as I have always pulled back from my abilities

as I have always pulled back from my abilities

in my aching need for normality.

Last night was the first time I had pushedmy own boundaries. No doubt that theinspiration had come from the blanket of lightsown together by my friends in the past coupleof days but the wielding of it had been all me. Ihad imagined it and then setting image intoreality, formed it out of my own light. I hadthen wielded it with confidence and saved thelife of one of my closest, most trusted, friends.

Reality dawns on me and I grab myhairbrush off my nightstand. Armed with thebrush, I stand in my room, trying to re-imagineand re-forge the sword. The limitations of myearthly body quickly become apparent, to me. Iam able to reform the sword in my mind andfeel the rush of energy as I push it down myarm. I feel the rising heat as I form the sword inmy hand. However, It is short and limpcompared to the sword I had wielded theprevious night. Although I feel the heat risingfrom it, my earthly eyes cannot see it. In thisworld, the sword which had been physical thenight before is nothing more than a ball ofenergy and a distant memory.

The feeling of it is different in human formthan astral form yet it is familiar and powerful.

than astral form yet it is familiar and powerful.

At first, I can hold it for only a moment beforeit would release itself. Becoming drained andfrustrated at this, I start focusing on releasing itin short spurts. To do this, I have to pull up lessof my light and focus it so that it leaves mybody quickly. These moments of privatepractice take me back to a place in my life whenthe discovery of myself, and my abilities, hadbrought me so much joy. It is a wondrous timevoid of abandon and for the first time in ages, Iam uninterested in normality.

Here I am, standing in my room clad only inmy underclothes, with my un-brushed hairclinging to my sweat filled face. My morningbreath has not been treated by my toothbrushand my body cries for a shower. All my rusesare folded up and lying on my bed while I standin the middle of my room, fully exposed.

The sound of footsteps is unintelligible tome, until they stop and the door of my roomslowly creeps open. I turn to greet the creakingof the door and an angry Diana. I can read theintention in her face and immediately knew thatI was late for school. I see a great burst of angerwelling up inside her and her eyes threatenrelease of it toward me.

She must be terrified at the sight of me and I

She must be terrified at the sight of me and I

stand frozen. My legs are bent and I amsquatting with my right hand outstretchedtoward her. Taking a deep breath to calmmyself, I release the tiny ball of light that I wasconjuring before the door opened and it flies inher direction.

As she opens her mouth to speak, the tinyball makes contact with her and her edgessoften. She pauses a moment before reacting tothe scene in front of her and I watch as slowlyher anger is replaced with realization. In thismoment, she is doing something foreign to hernature: she is thinking before reacting.

“I’m glad you’re taking an interest in yoga,

Awen.” She starts before firmly adding: “butyou’re going to be late. You know I hate to belate. Hurry up and get ready for school. Wehave 15 minutes.”

As I rush through my morning routine, Ihave to wonder if her reaction is a coincidence.She had spoken firmly but she hadn’t yelled andshe hadn’t threatened to ground me. She wassomewhere between extremely angry andfrustrated. I had seen a familiar flash of anger inher eyes when I turned to greet her. Whatshould have followed was a great blast of anger.

The biggest cardinal sin in Diana’s book isbeing late. I can recall many occasions whenmy father had woken up late or spilled coffeeon his shirt and had to change. When thishappened, Diana would always fly off thehandle. This time, she had chosen to warn meinstead of berate me and I feel prideful in theface of the positive change I have createdwithin her.

Ten minutes later, I am ready for school. Istand downstairs, heating a bagel to eat on theway to school when Diana comes down to greetme. She is wearing a white shirt, silver vest,black skinny jeans and a pair of designer boots.I look at her for signs that the effects of myenergy are wearing off but she gives noindication of seething anger. Instead, she simplygreets me, asks if I am ready to go and drivesme to school.

At school, I move throughout the daydebating the logic of the morning’s events. InPhilosophy class, I consider the possibility thatit was all a coincidence. During math class Idebate with myself that it was statisticallyfeeble that there was a connection betweenmyself and the sudden change in Diana’s mood.By lunch I realize that I haven’t taken notes inany of my morning classes and I don’t know if

any of my morning classes and I don’t know if

Lacy is even here today. What I am sure of wasthat I am not sure if anything that happened thismorning was real.

It isn’t until Chemistry class that I havemanage to blink back into myself. During adiscussion about the scientific method, thesolution suddenly becomes apparent. There isno way to say for certain that the events of thismorning were neither random nor connected…because I don’t have enough evidence tosupport either conclusion!

My thoughts aren’t any more focused whenI set down to a pile of unknown homework. Itseems like nothing in my world is concrete orknown and I have moved from the wonderingstage into the planning one. I find myselffeeling reserved at the prospect of using mynew power because I can not be sure what theconsequences of my prospective experimentswill be. However, the thought of using my newpower again builds an intense excitementwithout me that I cannot shake.

When I was 13, I had experienced a similarsense of excitement. The first time the familiaraura glow of those around me began to pulsewith meaning and emotion, I was alive with

with meaning and emotion, I was alive with

wild excitement. I leaned in slowly to mypowers then. I built rules for myself and stilloperate by them strictly. I bite back theexcitement enough to allow myself safety andanonymity.

The excitement growing inside me now iswilder. It roars inside me like a caged animal,begging to be set free. My mind plays with wildfantasies of the things I can do with it. I have toforce myself to look around the edges of it tosee the complicated truth. I have to forcemyself to look down the different pathways thateach experiment could lead me.

By the time bedtime beckons me, I havemanaged to complete most of my homeworkand eat dinner with my family. All sense ofnormality has left and I break every routine thatI have constructed to foster feelings of beingnormal. Although I try, I cannot focus on theenvironment around me. Making idle chatseems menial against my thoughts and so Idisengaged. I set silently and lost in thoughtwhile the world moves on around me.

Chapter TenChapter Ten

The Great Tree of LifeThe Great Tree of Life

It has taken too long to get here, I think as Iplant my feet on the soot floor of my shadowworld. I had gone to sleep as suddenly as thesun had lay down its head onto the horizon.Still, the anticipation of meeting with Cai haspressed on the edges of my mind all day and theminutes it takes me to travel the path to the hillare heavy.

When I arrive, Cai is waiting for me in thebows of the great tree. A rush of anticipationflows through me as I approach him. I feel nolurking danger or aching fear in the air aroundus. I search his glowing eyes for indicationsabout his plans for tonight. I am hoping for ahunt-free night. In my mind, I have concocted alist of experiments which I want to try with Cai.

list of experiments which I want to try with Cai.

I am not sure how open he will be to the ideabut I am determined to convince him. Iapproach him with what I hope appears to be anormal level of excitement.

He counteracts my excitement by notoffering a greeting. He is stone as he carves therune Elhaz into the side of our great tree andbegins inside. My feet are lead as I follow him.Once inside, I set in static silence, waiting forhim to begin the conversation. With noindication of his mood, I bite back on theexcitement welling inside me.

He begins slowly. “I’m thankful for yousaving my life last night.” I sense honestgratitude in his words and motions. I also sensepride and bewilderment, as well as fear andreservation. “I never expected you to showsuch…” he pauses for a moment. I can tell he ischoosing his words carefully. He knocks fewpossibilities in his mind before he settles on thecorrect verbiage. “…decisiveness.” He states atlast.

Decisiveness? My mind screams back athim. I had forged and wielded a sword of pureenergy. I had held it in my hand and used it as aweapon against his attacker. I had done thisafter following the sound of his fluttering wings

after following the sound of his fluttering wings

in the darkened forest. I had done it to save himand he had the nerve to refer to the act as onlydecisive?

“It was heroism, is what it was” I blurt outat him before the thought registers as harsh. Itry to gather them up and stuff them back intomy mouth before they make impact but theeffort is useless.

I set for a moment, searching for anindication of Cai’s reaction. He gathers histhoughts slowly and the edges of him soften. “Itwas heroic.” He smiled. “It was also risky.”

The tension between us falls and herecounts for me the story of that night, before Iarrived. He was waiting for me by the greattree. He grew worried about me and his earswere perched, searching for signs of danger.When he heard the scuffle in the forest, herushed toward it in fear that I was in trouble.

He had seen the flowing, cloaked figure andassumed it was me before he registered that itwas a trap. At that point, the shadow creaturewas behind him and he was on the run. The restis history but the tale of how he’d ended uprunning scared in the forest sends chills downmy spine. The exciting prospect of my new

my spine. The exciting prospect of my new

power dulls and a familiar guilt aches in itsplace.

“It was my fault,” I murmur. It is theslightest whisper and is almost lost in thegrandness of the great tree.

Despite the stillness of it, Cai responds.“When you first arrived, I explained fate to youbut you were so young. I held back inexplaining it to you because I feared youwouldn’t fully understand it.”

He talks for a while about things that arefamiliar to me. He talks about how fate pullshumans along and how the twists and turns inlife send them traveling different paths forspecific purpose.

When Cai describes fate, it is apparent thathe holds a reverence for it. He talks about it likeit is an old friend. I can tell that he trusts fateand has concluded that it was the reason he wasled into the shadows. He explains how humansshould never anger toward fate because it is atool for progress.

In Cai’s mind, humans would be staticwithout the forces of fate propelling themforward. He explains how it must have been

forward. He explains how it must have been

fate which had made me late on the very nightthat the creature would be lurking. “Somethings in life are coincidence.” He explains“..but others are too perfect to be called that.When the things that lead up to an event syncup just right, this is when you can be sure thatit’s divine plan.” I am instantly reminded of thismorning, when Diana walked into my bedroomat the very instance that I was releasing anenergy ball in her direction.

He pauses for a moment before continuingwith his explanation, seemingly to assure that Iam paying close attention to what he is saying.“There are things I have never told you. Thereare things about you and me and the hands offate that I can never tell you. It is the weightthat a diviner must carry for the human. Forwhen a human knows his fate, he either tries toavoid it or he tries to follow it. Either way, he issure to stray far from it.”

He looks at me for understanding and I nodhim on although my mind is knocking aroundthe words, you and me and the hands of fate.These words leave an aching wondering insideof me but I do not mention this to him. I do notwant him to stop talking and I look for morehidden messages as he speaks.

“A lot of humans are very good atunderstanding fate in this manner. They see it,very basically, in a self-centralized way.Humans may turn inward to it and see how itaffects their own personal lives. They may evenmake connections from time to time about howindividual paths intertwine and the hands offate. However, humans are limited in theirability to understand the brevity of fate as itrelates to the entire human consciousness.” Heemphasizes human consciousness as if it issomething that I should take note of. He thentells me of the crann bethadh or the great treeof life.

He tells how the ancient Celtic people usedto revere this tree as a connection between thehuman world to the divine one. He depicts agreat tree with intertwining branches andexplains how these branches form never endingtwists and turns which signify the birth, life,death and renewal of all things, even humans.“Each side of the great tree is balanced with theother, symbolizing balance and harmony in theworld. These great intertwining branches serveas the path of life. In order for balance andharmony to exist, each player must be at anexact point on the tree at any given time. Inorder for a human to progress through thecycles of birth, life, death and renewal, they

cycles of birth, life, death and renewal, they

must continue following the branches to thetop.” He pauses for a moment to gage that Iunderstand his words.

“What happens when balance and harmonyare interrupted?” I ask.

A dark notion glazes over his eyes. “Thenprogress halts.” He answers bitterly. They weresimple words which were only given meaningby the way he spoke them. I can see the achingconnection he has with this concept and decidenot to press further.

“It would be impossible for humans tounravel the branches of the great tree. Diviners,alone, are blessed with the ability to understandthe intertwining of the branches. By the timehumans come in view of their destiny, they areoften in the midst of it and trying to see too farahead will often leave the human entangled.”He sighs a heavy breath and adds, carefully, “Itwas a moment of synchronization which ledyou to discovering your ability to wield energy.It was fate.”

I delight in the thought of it. Thereservations that I have about using my newpower slowly drift into the silent night. ThenCai speaks sternly, “You must not use it.”

“Now I’m confused. You just said thatfate…”

“I know what I just said,” he interrupts.“I’m sure the discovery of it was handed to youby fate. I’m also sure that there will be a timewhen it will be necessary. You must not use itfoolishly. It is not a thing to experiment with.You must be mindful of the intertwiningbranches of life around you.”

He went on to explain how my other powersare possible because I pull from something. Hetells me that I can pull at the forces of nature orfrom the emotions of the humans around me,without affecting the intertwining nature of fate.He explains how these abilities help guide mebecause they required that I stay connected tothe outside forces around me.

When he turns back to the subject of mynew ability, his voice grows steady andwarning. “Some powers are pushing powers.Imagine an instance where a human would use apower to change the moods of the peoplearound them.” The sentence is implicating andpointed. “That person then begins to upset thebalance of the world around them. This isbecause emotions are human motivators.

because emotions are human motivators.

Emotions lead to decisions and decisions movehumans along the tree of life.”

As he explained this, my thoughts begin totrail. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen fate as hedescribed it. I do not fully believe that my smallactions could have an impact on such a large,orchestrated system. After all, I am only oneperson in the whole of humanity. There is noway that my actions could have an impact on alarge scale. I hold Cai’s words close to myheart, as he was my closest ally, but my brain isbusy justifying my need to experiment with mynew ability, despite his warnings.

Cai is building up to telling me somethingelse when my spirit begins to float up andtoward my waking body. I cling to thefamiliarity of the great tree, resisting the pull ofmyself from it. My attempts are futile and thelook in his face as I begin to fade is puredisappointment.

Tomorrow night, I think, hoping he can stillhear me.

Chapter ElevenChapter Eleven

Padded BoxPadded Box

I awake to the gentle breeze of the wind onmy cheek. The latch on my window is let andthe window swings open. I bask in the gentlerays of the morning sun before getting up andgetting ready for the day. My mind is heavywith the conversation from the night before. Caihad given me a lot to think about and as Ichoose my outfit for today, I notice that theeagerness of the previous day has subsided.

It is much easier to bite back on theexcitement and refrain from planning how touse my new power. In fact, a familiar need fornormalcy creeps back into me. I decide toforego the usual jeans and t-shirt for somethinga bit trendier. I know it will delight Lacy that Iam trying and (hopefully) make up for my

am trying and (hopefully) make up for my

behavior the day before.

I decide on a bohemian style nit ponchowith a white tank top underneath, paired withdistressed skinny jeans. I accessorize with adiamond studded bangle bracelet and a long,flowing chain necklace. I use product toactivate my curls and allowed them to lie freelyon my head before covering the top with a knitberet. I add some mascara to highlight my eyesand lip gloss for my lips and with that, I amheaded to school.

Lacy is waiting, eagerly, for me by mylocker. Surprised at the effort I have taken withmy appearance this morning, Diana had stoppedby the coffee shop to treat herself, Lacy and meto a Latte for breakfast. I carry the cups ofcoffee toward Lacy with excitement. Sheflashes a grand smile at me and I warm towardit. I return it with a generous hand of my waveand continue forward, the lattes in hand.

My mind flashes forward and I imaginewhat would happen if I tripped toward Lacy,spilling the coffee. I imagine rage welling insideher as she blots hopelessly at her shirt. Then, Iimagine myself sending the smallest ball ofpositive energy at her, changing the trajectoryof her mood.

I feel temptation quaking through me. Alingering reminder of the previous day floatsaround the edges of me. It is begging me to payit attention. My teeth sharpen at the thought ofpower and my mind races to fight the pull of it.My knees become wobbly from the exertion ofthe struggle.

I steady my body and my mind, takingcontrol of my own urges. I push back the needfor power and replace it with the memory of myfavorite Lacy smile. I allow myself to realizethe consequences of giving in and using mypowers. I force myself to imagine Cai’sdisappointment in my weakness.

Slowly, I walk up to Lacy. Very normally, Igreet her with a smile and offer her a Latte.

She repay this with her biggest Lacy smileand I delight in my decision not to humiliateher. She looks me up and down for a momentbefore raising her eyebrows and stating, “Seemslike somebody’s in a great mood today.”

“That’s because I am.” It is a simple liecovered by my effortless smile and affectiontoward her. The complicated truth is that I ambreaking at the seams. I want nothing more than

breaking at the seams. I want nothing more than

to spill hot coffee on my best friend simply toindulge in using my destructive power on her. Ihad almost asserted my love for power over mytruest friendship and I ache at the shame of it.

I slip into my best ruse, choke down myturmoil and stuff it in a new box. It is a heavybox with a padded lock. It is a box which I hopeI can keep hidden deep down inside me andlocked forever. It quakes and crashes inside me,taunting me with the inevitability of abreakdown.

I spend the first half of the day trudgingforward and trying hard to erase the morning’sincident from my mind. I pick at the worldaround me, stealing little pieces of light andusing them to cover the quaking box. I recoverslowly but by mid-day I have moved easily intomy normal routines and began to envision hopeon the horizon.

When I meet with Lacy for lunch, I notice abeaming light around her. She wears a smilewhich tells me that she is on the brink ofoverflowing with excitement. I welcome thegaiety of it and move toward her with the hopethat I can use her light to help stifle the need touse my new power.

As I set down, I bask in her glow. There isonly one thing that makes a teenage girl flushthe color of a pink tinted rose: love. I almostanticipate the words as she is speaking them.“Alecster Jones asked me to the Fall Formal.”

I allow myself to revel in the excitementwith her for a bit before obliging to listen toevery detail of the encounter. As I listen to her, Iadmire the ease with which she experiences herjoy. The flirty hopefulness bouncing around heris contagious and the prospect of new love rollsoff her and into my soul. I allow myself to befilled with it and as we discuss the possibilitiesof the night, I feel truly normal.

It is such an astonishing revelation that afew hours previous I had stood in the hallway,struggling against myself. As I set beside herunderneath the arms of a great Oak Tree,planning an inevitable shopping trip, I realizethat this is not a ruse. I am genuinely excitedabout shopping with Lacy.

The gentle autumn breeze flirts against myskin and I allow it to flow throughout me. Thewind is telling me that this feeling is important.I understand more about fate in this momentthan I had during my entire conversation about

than I had during my entire conversation about

it with Cai. I know that the wind is telling me itis okay to experience normality. It is saying thatit is okay to admit that somewhere deep insideof me, I am hoping that I will have a reason toshop, as well.

Later that night, I set in my room for a longwhile. The light from the sky has faded and isreplaced by the glowing bulb on my desk. As Iturn it on, it reaches to greet me with glee. As Iturn it off, it retreats and hides behind the veilsof darkness. I repeat this a couple times while Igather my thoughts.

The incident which occurred earlier withLacy weighs heavily on my mind and turns mythoughts toward the light bulb’s struggle withdarkness. I note how, when lit, darkness isconstantly crashing around the edges of thebulb’s glow. Taunting the light, the darknessseems to take over the bulb as I turn the switchon the lamp to “off”.

When I turn the light on, I can see thebarrier of light that is created. The light seemsto extend itself outward from the bulb, keepingthe shadows at bay. Like me, the bulb is inconstant conflict with the darkness whichsurrounds it. As I flip the switch of the light of

surrounds it. As I flip the switch of the light of

the lamp off and then on again, I wonder howlong it will be before the darkness crashing onmy outside will overcome my light.

I am saddened for a moment at the light’sinability to embrace either the light or darknesscompletely. In this moment, I am in completecontrol of the bulb’s light destiny. It cannotembrace either one completely. It must exist induality until it burns out. For a moment, Iempathize with the light and decide to let itburn brightly for the rest of the night.

I must be going crazy, I consider at thethought of empathizing with a light bulb.Slowly, I drift asleep to the light from the bulbbouncing playfully around the room.

Chapter TwelveChapter Twelve

SuperheroSuperhero

Last night wasn’t exciting. Cai and I huntedbut I felt no urge to use my new power and Caididn’t mention our talk about fate. Everythingin the shadow world was normal. I scoff atusing the word normal to describe anything thathappens in the shadow world.

As I am getting dressed for school, Imentally note the things that most teenagersconsider normal. Then, I compare it to the listof things that I consider normal. I rejoice inknowing that some of the things on an averageteenager’s list are also on my own while I recoiltoward the things on my list which stick outhorribly.

There must be other people in the world like

There must be other people in the world like

me, I consider before tossing on a knit dress,some black tights and boots. It is a little dressyfor me to wear on a school day but it was on topof the pile of items that Diana had recentlydonated to my closet from her store, and mind istoo preoccupied to worry with choosing anoutfit.

On the drive to school, I consider all themodern tales of magick that exist. Of coursestories of people with powers like mine areoften tossed into the grinder and when theycome out, the heroes are given a name and acape. Superhero stories differ greatly frommine, though.

Firstly, I have no one to save. Except for thewanderers in the forest and Cai, I have neveractually used my powers to help someone elseout. I have thought about it before and decidedagainst it. Actually, I decided that I like myhome, school and my life better than a paddedcell or a government laboratory somewhere.

Secondly, there is nothing in the world forme to fight against. Every good superhero hasan equally great super villain. The hero is oftenpropelled to fight against the villain, thus givinghim a purpose. Maybe I need a villain to fightagainst.

I think about fate for a moment and considerhow Cai had said nothing happened without apurpose. I decide there must be a villain outthere somewhere for me to fight. I might evenmeet up with them one day and engage in anepic battle, thus saving part (or all) of humanity.I giggle at the notion of it as we pull up toschool.

Chapter ThirteenChapter Thirteen

BlackoutBlackout

Today has been a pretty standard day, asmost Wednesdays s are. Wednesdays are oftenstale because the excitement of the weekendwavers into Monday and it is too far from thedownhill slide into the next weekend. Today,however, seems to beam around the edges withexcitement. Lacy is still high on the previousday’s invitation to the Fall Formal. I delight inher giddy giggles and bashful smiles every timeLacy and Alecster pass each other in thehallway.

Lacy decides that she can’t wait until theFall Formal to have a sequel date with Alecster.She then proceeds to attempting to talking meinto staging a double date with her, Alecster,Cleary and myself. My overt objections to this

Cleary and myself. My overt objections to this

idea do not stop her from planning.

“The only problem would be that you wouldhave to make it seem impromptu…impromptuis a word, right?”

“Yes, but…” I tried to object but she cut meoff.

“Never mind, problem solved.” Shewhispered and covertly pointed to her right. Myeyes widen as I turn to see Cleary McQuintockmaking his way to the tree we always loungedunder at lunch time. I quickly glance down atmy outfit and I am glad that I had at leastdressed nicely today.

“Ello.” Clearly looks nervous as he greetsme, directly. I stand to greet him and suddenlybecome self-conscious that this is not the rightthing to do. I feel awkward being in such closeproximity to him and realize that my abruptchange in position must signal to him that I ameager to see him. I fumble with my hand as hegreets Lacy.

The air between us falls silent as Lacy fadesinto the background of our conversation. I canalmost feel our auras touching as he fumbleswith his hands. We have been silent for too long

with his hands. We have been silent for too long

so I decide to break the silence.

“Where’s your sidekick”

A half-baked grin crawls across his face.“We’re not superheros or misfit cops.” Helaughs and then looks down. “But Alecster’sright over there.” He adds, pointing behind him.“I kind of wanted to talk to you alone.”

This caught me off guard and I hop Lacyhasn’t heard him. The thought of talking toCleary alone is frightening. Before I have thechance to protest, Lacy stands up and walkstoward Alecster with a skip in her step.

“We’re alone…” I look around and noticethe student bodies around me. “…well, aloneenough”

He laughs and the conversation gainsmomentum. We talk for a moment aboutChemistry class and his uncle’s dog. I wish heknew how much I hate idle chitchat I amthinking when the topic of the conversationfloats seamlessly into the Fall Formal.

He takes a deep breath before asking if I amplanning on attending. I shrug at this and hereplies with, “I’d like to see you there.”

replies with, “I’d like to see you there.”

Confusion plays out on my face. For a moment,I had considered that he had changed thesubject of our conversation as a setup for askingme to go to the dance with him.

Cleary bumbles as the creases on myforehead grow. “I mean…well…I didn’t meanthat I will be glad to see you there.”

This is getting worse. I close my eyes andsense his aura. I read his emotions anddetermine that he is trying to ask me to the FallFormal, he is just lousy at it.

I put my hand on his shoulder and pass thetiniest bit of my light into him to calm him. Iam about to tell him I would love to go to theFall Formal with him when a smile spreads onhis face. He stands before me now, confidencerestored. Looking refreshed, he steadies hisspeech and actually asks me to go to the dancewith him. I tell him, genuinely, that I will bedelighted to go with him.

Jubilation plays out inside me. Flashes ofshopping in the city with Lacy for formalgowns runs through my mind as Cleary turnsand walks toward Alecster and Lacy. I fear myhappiness will be short lived as I feel the edgesof my best hidden box quaking inside me. I

of my best hidden box quaking inside me. I

choke back the temptation with the lightspreading inside me from the prospect of theFall Formal.

The temptation is easily managed. It is notthe feeling that is overtaking me and sendingme to my knees in despair. The white hotfeeling spreading throughout me is somethingdarker than temptation. As my stomach churnsand I begin to see blurred bodies movingforward me, I struggle to identify the foreignsensations in my body. Danger registers firstand then morphs, slowly as the waves begin totake me over. Before I black out, the windbrushes through my body. It attempts to calmme without prevail and the tree sends a singlevibration into my body. The word it speaks is“foreboding”. With that, everything goes black.

I lay in the nurse’s station. My mind is alivebut my body is stationary. I can hear my dad’svoice but I cannot respond. I realized then that Iam somewhere between awake and asleep. I layfor a moment, focusing on the voices in theroom.

I can vaguely make out the words: “…notresponding…coma…hospital.”

I am screaming in my head in the direction

I am screaming in my head in the direction

of the floating voices when I feel the pinch of aneedle going into my arm and a cool liquidflows through my veins. I feel myself driftingfarther from the waking world as the sound ofshuffled feet fills my ears. Am I being moved?What’s going on? I scream in my mind before Ifade.

Chapter FourteenChapter Fourteen

DreamDream

As my mind begins to stir again, I findmyself inside a dream. I have traveled to theshadow world every night for so long; I haveforgotten what it feels like to dream. I walk intoa white room. It is completely empty except fora white padded chair in the middle. Against mybest judgment, I walk toward the chair and setdown.

A screen lowers before me and I staretoward it with trepidation. There is no openingmusic or sequence. It is simply a string ofunrelated memories.

A woman drops her phone and bends to pickit up…a man takes a wrong turn... This makesno sense to me and my mind scrambles to make

no sense to me and my mind scrambles to make

understand it. Suddenly, I see the woman whostops to pick up her phone narrowly avoidingbeing hit by a delivery boy on a bike…the manwho took the wrong turn avoids what wouldhave been a fatal accident with a semi-truck.

More random sequences and their effectsplay out on the screen before me. My mindmoves quickly and makes every connection. AsI process the movie playing out in front of me, Iam reminded of Cai’s explanation of theintertwining branches of fate which governshuman destiny. I watch as the smallest changein environment or pause changes themomentum and direction of each individual inthe movie.

My head is spinning when the screen goeswhite. The pause in action pulls my fullattention and I stare blankly at the screen for amoment before it starts playing again. Thistime, the slow hum of a violin plays throughout,muting the voices of the players.

I watch as the incident with Alecster Moodyis played out on the screen. In the wind aroundme blows a shadow. Just as Alecster is propelledinto the street, the shadow forms into a bodywhich stands in the distance, watching the sceneunfold. The scene ends before Alecster ends up

unfold. The scene ends before Alecster ends up

on the hood of the car. White screen plays for afew seconds before it begins, again.

In the new memory, I am nine and the fallbreezes blow. I pull back my jacket, armsoutstretched. I remember this. I was speakingwith the wind. I remember and then the achingfeeling of being rejected by my peers at thisstage in my life tugs inside me. The sameshadow lurks in the background of the memory,its purple eyes set on only me. I watch as thekids tease and mock me. The familiar ache ofmy difficult youth fully returns and I fight tocontain it. Just as the teasing kids walk away,the screen goes white again.

I take a deep breath, afraid of what I will seenext. Just as I have composed myself, I see alittle girl with red curls playing under a tree ona hill. I recognize the location as my hometownin West Virginia…The little girl is me. I watchas I climb to the top of the tree, stretch out myarms and feel the rush of the wind. I speak to itas it flows throughout me. A shadow is blowingaround the tree and suddenly I am propelleddownward. Before I hit the ground, the screengoes white.

My mind shuffles to make a connectionbetween the seemingly random events of my

between the seemingly random events of my

life playing out on the screen. The last memorycomes quicker than the other two had and myhead is still spinning when it starts.

A hospital room…my father is there…and awoman... I had seen a picture of my mom once,stuffed in the bottom of a shoe box my dadkeeps hidden. I realize that it is my mother whois lying here in the hospital bed. The latch onthe window is let and a shadow flies in. It’s anowl.

The focus of the memory switches towardmy mother and father. …a voiceless baby entersthe world…my mom’s face cries the joyful tearsof a proud mother…she speaks but I cannothear her words…I watch as her arms go limpand she slips into a great abyss

My father clings to my baby self in themovie and the me of today weeps deep sobsinside the dream. The pain of watching her dierips at me from inside. Still, I want to rewindthe movie. I want to pause it as she is smilingdown at me. I want to remember the look on herface forever. Instead, I set staring at a whitescreen. The soft violin changes tempo andbecomes a roaring anthem for the coming scene.

The time period has changed. This memory

The time period has changed. This memory

occurred ages ago. I look over the hill at a seaof flying axes and mangled bodies. I amconfounded. This memory holds no value andappears to be of no relation to the previousones. Nothing is what is seems. A voicelessnotion rumbles in my brain and forces me totake notice of the scene carefully. It’s forcingme to look for a connection between thismemory and my life. Suddenly, a mad axewielding man tops the hill with tear stained eyesand bloodstained hands. His eyes are purple, astark contrast to his pale skin. Purple eyes thethought sticks out to me, begging me to payattention to it.

I watch as he begins to murder withoutabandon. The familiarity of his purple eyes…My mind reels to recognize them; to place themsomewhere in my own existence. …the purpleeyes of the shadow being hiding in thebackground of my earlier memories.. I amfrozen as dark realization creeps over me. Iclaw desperately at all the memories I hold withCai in the shadowy forest. I have always senseda reservation within him but still, I trust him. Heis the only one who really knows me. He is myonly true friend.

I had only ever seen him in the form of theowl in the shadowy forest but the eyes are an

owl in the shadowy forest but the eyes are an

unmistakable proof that he is the same being inthe scene. Now he is flesh and blood in front ofme, killing without abandon. He has been therethroughout my entire life. He is watching overme, isn’t he? My mind struggles to feelconfident in our relationship. In every scene ofthe movie, something horrible had happened.Each time the shadow had been present, a holewas torn in my soul; some of them deeper thanothers. My mind replays the memory of mydying mother. He can’t be the cause of mydarkness, can he?

As the screen goes white, the edges of theroom begin to fade into darkness. The air issucked from the room as I fade back intomyself and I find myself gasping. I feelmovement and hear voices exclaiming. As Iopen my eyes, I see Diana and my dad standingover me. Nurses come in to assess my healthand I am alone with my thoughts again.

What had felt like ages in my dream hasonly been one true hour. The doctors can findno reason for my black out and send me homewith orders to rest, but I don’t want to rest. Inever want to rest again because with restcomes the shadow world. With the shadowworld comes Cai and I know now that he hasbetrayed me.

He has been present during every dark snarein my life and I don’t want to think about himas the cause of it all. Still, it is the onlyconclusion that makes sense and anger wellsinside me toward him. I wrestle with the notionthat Cai is not capable of hurting me in thatmanner but then his murderous eyes flashbefore me. The truth is that I have no evidenceto support any different theory and as I ambeing discharged, I realize that I will have to seeCai eventually. I realize that I will have to killhim.

Chapter FifteenChapter Fifteen

Sleepless NightsSleepless Nights

I haven’t slept for two days. The doctor’sorders have sentenced me to bed rest and thisbed is beginning to feel like a prison. I havespent most of the time since my blackoutwatching TV and replaying the dream in mymind. Remembering the movie that played outbefore me, I have tried to tie everythingtogether in a neat little package but it will notfit.

Instead, it all lays before me in a jumbledmess, threatening to destroy my reality. I havecompartmentalized to deal with the loss of mymother, being an outcast as a child, and to hidemy powers. Now, I realize that my break withnormality could have been avoided. If Caihadn’t intervened in my life, I would not be the

hadn’t intervened in my life, I would not be the

segmented, broken mess I am today. Deepthoughts of betrayal plague my mind as I fightthe urge to drift toward the shadow realm. I hadbelieved him when he spoke about fate. I hadtrusted in him for advice. The darkest recessesof my soul seethe with anger as I think about it.

For a moment, I think about allowingmyself to drift into the shadow world, simply soI can face him. I am imagining the consumptionof his soul by my hands when I hear footstepsapproaching my door. As the door swings open,I see my stepmother’s smiling face. Diana hastaken care of me for days now. She seemsgenuinely worried about me and even actstenderly to me as she approaches my bed. “Doyou need anything, honey?” she asks, hidingsomething behind her back. I glare at her,wordlessly.

She sighs a heavy sigh. “Listen, your fathersaid if you don’t take it, he’s going to come uphere and give it to you with force” her eyes arepleading me to concede. I had refused to takethe sleeping medicine that the doctorprescribed. Now, I watch as panic plays out inher eyes. I consider telling her off and accusingher care for me to be a ruse. I consider tellingher that I think she is a selfish, shallow personand that I wish my father had never met her.

and that I wish my father had never met her.

The truth is that I sense absolutely no ulteriormotive to her actions and my edges softentoward her.

She thinks I’m not sleeping because I’mafraid I will not wake up the thought startles meand I feel sorry for causing her distress. I glareat her for a moment more before putting myhand out for the pill. She shakes her head “no”and I open my mouth, where she places he pill.She asks me to swallow and then checks undermy tongue. She leaves the room, pleased withherself and I rest my head on my pillow. I amstartled by the softness of it and before themedicine has a chance to work, I am driftingaway. The shadow world is on the horizon. It’stime to face my destiny.

Chapter SixteenChapter Sixteen

SoulSoul

The shadow world seems darker than Iremember as I step onto the soot coveredground. I walk for a moment before I realizethat it is I who am darker, not the world aroundme. I still need to cloak but barely. The eventsof the past few days weigh heavily on me andreach deep down inside my soul. I can feel thepain of betrayal clawing at my insides andtearing gaping holes inside me.

As I moved forward, I hear the fluttering ofwings overhead. I pick up a stick and charge myenergy into it, trying to conjure the great swordof light that I had previously. However, mytainted energy does not conjure a great sword oflight. Instead, it conjures one of mockingshadows with pointed light as the blade.

I stand in fear of it as I realize that it is areflection of my soul. Before, the sword hadbeen a great burst of light in emulation of mybright spirit. At that moment, the darkness wason the outside of me and my soul was purelight. Now it is darkness within and lightwithout. I consider the price I will pay forseeking revenge. I consider the last bit of lightwithin me completely covered in darkness.

A pleading voice quakes through my headas I consider these things You can come backfrom this…all you need is a little understanding.I know it is Cai but I don’t want to hear hiswords and I shut him out. He is a greatmanipulator and the biggest betrayer in my life.I will not give him the chance to talk me out offulfilling my destiny and ripping him from thisworld, once and for all.

“I have all the understanding that I need! Ihave seen you for what you truly are.”I yell intothe darkness around me. I cannot see him but heis near and I search the great forest for him. Iquiet my mind and send him a taunting messageYou are a coward! You hid behind your wisdomand betrayed my trust. I don’t care what theprice for my revenge is…I don’t care if it’s mysoul. I will consume you, Cai. Anger flows

soul. I will consume you, Cai. Anger flows

through me but the night is silent and so I call tohim again. You were hidden in the shadows asmy mother died with me in her arms and nowyou’re hidden as I stand before you, declaring abattle. Show yourself to me. Let me see howgreat of a warrior you really are!

In that moment, I am blindsided by the rapidfluttering of Cai’s wings. He flies behind mequickly and with force. In one move, he knocksthe stick from my hand, destroying my conjuredsword. Before I can counter, he isssetting on myshoulder and whispering ancient words into myears. I am surprised by how quickly heovercomes me and I stand frozen by his words.Suddenly, my body goes limp and I amcompletely surrounded by darkness.

I awake to the stiffness of an unfamiliarform. I am still in the shadow world but Cai isnot around. What did he do to me? I think as Itry to run and find him. I am running slowerthan I usually do when I realize that my legs areshort and weak. Instinctively, I lift my wingsand fly toward the river that surrounds theshadow world. The sensation of it feels familiar.It feels as if I have done this for ages. I gazeinto the water and see the purple eyes of an owlgazing back at me.

A voice rings throughout my body, It’s theonly way. This will not hurt you, but I need youto see what I have seen. I need you toexperience what I have experienced. Mythoughts will become your own. Don’t fight it; itwill all be over soon. Then, you will knoweverything that I know and we will be one.

I fight against Cai’s body, trying to breakfree. I feel myself slipping into his mind andthen I feel my own thoughts and intentionsslipping away. I feel a gentle tugging inside as Ithe lines between Cai and myself become thin.The tug becomes more intense and I floatbackward in time, toward the beginning of Cai’sstory.

Chapter SeventeenChapter Seventeen

CailleachCailleach

We all sell our souls, don't we? Some do itfor the bread on their tables, other for the loveof silk and pearl. For me, it was the taste ofblood and metal. The roar of war and the smellof death became the catalyst for myconsumption. With every murder, I driftedfurther and further from my destiny and theworld around me drifted further and further intodarkness.

I cannot tell you who I am, for I have beenknown by many names. I cannot tell you an agebecause human years cannot equate to myantiquity. I can say that, within the scope ofhuman understanding, I have always existed. Inone form or another, I have walked the shoresof the human realm for ages. I have lived and

of the human realm for ages. I have lived and

died by the sides of man. I have felt human loveand hate; hopelessness and triumph; joy andsorrow. I understand what it means to behuman. I even empathize with them but I am nothuman.

To explain what I am would confound thehuman imagination, yet everyone knows me. Iam the glimmer of hope and recognition behinda stranger’s eyes. I am the whisper of thingsunknown, a healing hand. Humans refer to mykind as diviners. We are the seers, healers,psychics and mages of the world. We are madeof matter from the unworldly realms and havebecome the makeup of many worldly legendsand myths.

We are a collective group who remainhidden in the bodies of man and while humanimagination may fumble toward our discovery,it will never truly grasp who or what we are.The first thing that must be understood is thatour purposes and destinies are not to provideparlor trick magic and predict lottery numbers.Our souls exist only to protect and guide thehuman race; to act as a connection of thehuman spirit to the divine one.

For all intents and purposes; we areimmortal. Once our human shells parish, we

immortal. Once our human shells parish, we

simply move on. For a diviner, there is nopromise of heaven or threat of hell. We aresentenced to live out eternity on the earth, asthe help-mate to humans. The rule that governsus is simple: don't become involved.

We move through the histories of man,guiding and directing humans. We lead themdown a path which is intricate to maintainingbalance and order in the world. Sometimes wemust guide a human to the light and sometimeswe must guide them to the darkness. For thisreason, diviners are not inherently good or evil.When the time comes, a diviner must be capableof committing both good and evil deeds. We maylift a soul out of a pit of darkness or plunge itthere, without pride or remorse either way.Once a task is complete, we must move onto thenext life and so on and so forth.

It can be quite taxing, even to a benevolentbeing, to exist in this manner. To know a humanso completely and to never be known; to beresponsible for the successes and pitfalls of somany oblivious souls and to experience thestrength of human emotion without the ability toreciprocate. Many diviners become complacentin their duties and betray their own destinies.These diviners are hunted and sentenced to liveforever in the shadow realm.

Chapter EighteenChapter Eighteen

Stalking ShadowsStalking Shadows

There is no light here only darkness anddamnation. The twists and snares of this forestare a reflection of the souls that dwell, and hunt,here. The darkness is lightly kissed by the softpale light of the burning moon. It is the samemoon which shines in the human realm and myonly connection to the world I once loved.

I exist here only in spirit form and as themoaning spirits close in on me, I spread mywings and fly upward, toward the canopy. For amoment, my wings are covered by the glow ofthe moon. Warmth spreads through my bodyand takes seat in my eyes. The warmth withinme tugs at my memory, pulling me back in timeand back into her arms.

She smiles her deepest smile and my soulradiates. Diviners cannot truly feel emotion.This radiation is the closest I will ever come tofeeling love and I only feel it when I'm with her.Her soft blue eyes flutter playfully and herbright red hair is bouncing in the sunlight. Shetilts her head and her aura widens to light theroom.

She wants me to kiss her, I think andhesitate. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't thinkthe thoughts that come to mind when she takesmy hand and pulls me close. I shouldn't dreamof a world where we could be together. A worldwhere I could experience the soul aching lovethat I know all humans feel; the love she mustfeel for me. A world in which fate wasn't socruel and shadows didn't lurk; threatening tosteal her away from me.

She rises to my lips and plants the softestkiss. I feel a deep wave of light rush through meas we meet and for a moment I forget that I amimmortal. I forget that it was fate that broughtme here, to be with her and that in a few shorthours she will be dead...and I will have beenresponsible for it.

The tree that I am perched in shakes and Iam ripped from my memory as suddenly as I

am ripped from my memory as suddenly as I

arrived. The walls of my 5th century home fadeand are replaced by the staleness of the rottingair. I am still in the shadow realm, it is the 21stcentury and she is dead.

I am on the radar and I must move, lest I beconsumed. The beings that exist with me are astwisted as the trees in the dark forest and everconsuming. I am not on the hunt tonight andtherefore I am potential prey. I must keepmoving, keep flying. As the shadows close inbehind me, I am met with more on the forefront.

This is the price I a pay for remembering.Memories of her always fill me with her lightand in the land between the living and dead, theslightest glimmer can cast a beacon of doom.

I must cloak, I think, but first I must fight.

I turn and fly backward, toward the stalkingshadow being behind me. I fly under a twisted,arching tree, tilting sideways and glidingforward. The shadow being lurches forward, hisface twisted in an eternal screech. It happens inan instant. I make contact with my razor clawsfirst, ripping at his shadow body and in hisdelirium, I consume his soul.

A small blast is emitted, knocking back the

A small blast is emitted, knocking back the

impeding beings. I instantly fly upward, passingthe canopy and glide among the stars to thelargest tree in this part of the shadow realm.This place is where I landed when I was casthere by The Council. Broken and tattered, I laybeneath the bow of the tree hoping to be found.In those early days, I wished for consumption.

I knew that I could not die so I had settledfor living eternity as a hopeless, soullessshadow in this dark land. I clung to my humanform because it was all I had left of her and as Isat in wait, I recalled every memory of thehuman realm that I had ever had. It didn't takelong for the shadow beings to move in on meand at last the moment for my consumption hadarrived. As the shadow being approached, I wasreveling in a memory of her smile when I heardher voice. It was a memory of her but it was asreal as the doom I was facing.

She was grinding herbs in a mortar whenshe said "You have a beautiful spirit".

I was suddenly propelled towardpreservation and shifted into an owl, flyingupward and away from my attacker. I vowedthat I would never lose any part of myself thatshe held so dear. I would not allow hermemories of me to be betrayed and I would do

memories of me to be betrayed and I would do

whatever it took to survive, as she knew me.For the sake of surviving here, I learned tostalk, to hunt, to cloak.

That night, I carved an opening in that greattree and with the rune Elhaz (ale-hawz),representing unity of human and spirit; I sealedit so that it would be a safe haven for me here.Then, I set myself to understanding my newworld. I categorized the beings here, from lowlyshadow walkers to demonic spirits andprotected the humans that sometimes traveledhere by accident. Even in her death, she propelsme...a true testament to her spirit.

Chapter NineteenChapter Nineteen

RedemptionRedemption

The moon hangs high above me. I amperched directly above the wanderer. I amwaiting; stalking. A cool breeze rushes throughme and my claws stand on edge, signaling that ashadow being is near. As the dark being stalksthe wanderer, I stalk the dark being silently. Hemoves in without notice, flowing toward thewanderer with intent.

Not today, I state to myself. Then, I set mybody in motion, propelling myself toward theattacker. In one swoop, I reach him. I attack andconsume without abandon and the wanderer issafe. He turns to great the commotion but hesees only me, drifting toward the darkened sky.

“You are safe now.” I murmur before

“You are safe now.” I murmur before

gliding upward to the top of the great tree. Iclose my eyes and allow myself a moment ofgratitude. There may never be redemption forthe things that I have done but tonight I can becomforted by the fact that I have done somegood in the world.

My thoughts are interrupted as I am frozenmid-air. Pins and needles prick my body as Ifeel my limbs going numb. I am not flying butfloating upward. The pieces of my spirit aredetached from one another and I am not aphysical body but pure matter. I am beingpropelled upward but toward what?

I have not traveled the realms for ages and Idelight in feeling my astral body once again. Inmy first weeks in the shadow realm, I trieddesperately to project myself…to escape myprison. After a while I resigned that I will neveragain feel the separating of body and spirit,never again float through the realms as purematter and I would never again see the humanrealm.

Why now? I had to wonder. What eventshave transpired that I had been permitted totravel? Who or what was propelling me upwardand where was I destined to land? My thoughtsare interrupted, my mind suddenly goes dark

are interrupted, my mind suddenly goes dark

and then I know…it is The Council.

“Callieach” The voice comes to me withoutsound. I can feel my name quake through myspirit and it’s the only thing I can see, hear ortouch. When The Council speaks, the words arefelt instead of heard. They rush through you asno more than a breeze and present themselvesas mental images which you must construct.This is a natural reaction, as all beings areextensions of the divine and somehow, themessages are clearly understood.

The Council speaks the language of thedivine. The divine does not have a mouth so itcannot speak and eyes so it cannot see. Still it isever seeing and ever speaking…it lives throughus and everything around us but we will neversee it or touch it or fully understand it. Even forthe diviners who have more divine knowledgethan any other being in the universes, the divineis a mystery. Humans have attempted toquantify this unknowable thing since the firstsunrise. Some of these attempts are futile andbetray the very spirit of the divine. Others areclose in definition but still fall short.

It is the nature of the divine to remainundefined and unknowable for the quest of it iswhat gives it power. I am, right now, as close as

what gives it power. I am, right now, as close as

any being will ever be to the divine. Suspendedin a state of nothingness, I can feel more clearlythe spirit of the divine than any man will everimagine.

“You have been summoned before TheCouncil to account for your past. You werecharged with unspeakable acts against thedivine which plunged the human realm into theDark Ages. You were sent to the shadow realmto spend eternity alone.”

Are the Dark Ages over? Am I redeemed formy failures? I think back, eagerly.

“The Dark Ages ended nearly 900 yearsago. You have been brought here for anotherreason. There is a new darkness threatening theworld. The newest generations of humans arefeeble and weak in their faith. They aredisconnected from the natural world, from eachother and the divine spirit. This new threat isexploiting these weaknesses and coulddismantle the very foundation of the world.”

Fear envelops me. Could this be the end?No other realm is so filled with as much lightand love as the human realm…to see thedestruction of it would destroy a part of myselfthat I held sacred, even in the shadow realm. All

that I held sacred, even in the shadow realm. All

the lives I have touched, the paths I havecrossed and the places I have been will be gone.The destruction of the human realm will destroyme as well…it will destroy my memories of her.I don’t mean to emphasize her and as soon as Ido, I am interrupted.

“We have been watching you, Cailleach.You have watched over the wanderers,protected them even. You have experiencedmoments of light in the darkest places and youhave the strongest will to survive. The Councilis not concerned about the reasons behind thesethings. The only thing that matters is that it is atestament to your goodness. You have beenalone in the shadow realm for ages and you arethe most removed of all diviners from thecorruption.” The last part was spoken carefully.“We are granting you an opportunity.”

Redemption? I didn’t dare think the wordbut it flowed through my head as though it wasmy soul speaking.

“Redemption,” The Council answerspleasingly and then continues, “…but it will notbe easy. We do not want a repeat of last time.You are to stay the path, let fate guide you ANDDON’T BECOME INVOLVED.”

My spirit beams. Throughout the ages Ihave come to feel as though I would neverreturn to the human realm. I thought I wouldnever be filled with the power of the sun or hearthe whispers of the wind. I thought I wouldnever touch foot on earthly soil again and that Iwould never have a chance to right my wrongs.It will not be hard, I thought, because I will bedoing it for…

The council interrupts my thoughts againand this time the words are much firmer, “Youmust forget about her. There is danger for thediviner in loving humans. You, more than anyother diviner, should understand this. We aresending a new spirit into the human realm. Sheis the incarnation of pure divine light and thelast weapon we have against the darknessimpeding upon the world. You must surroundher always, for her entire life. You must guideher toward the light but you MUST NOT growattached to her. She will remind you of yourpast but you must always remember that she isnot the same spirit that lured you in 900 yearsago.”

My thoughts darken at the word lured. TheCouncil is implying that I was lured …but intowhat? Was the connection I had with her atrap? Were there forces, outside the divine, that

trap? Were there forces, outside the divine, that

were working to alter fate then and now? Couldit be that her love for me was a farce? Thequestions flow through my head in anuninterrupted stream. The visage of her lips inmy memory is as clear as her living flesh. Torealize that the pressing of these lips againstmine wasn’t true would be a fate more damningthan another lifetime in the shadow realm.

“You are the only one who can do it. Youare the only one with enough resolve to protectand guide her. The world that you know haschanged immensely. Nothing is sacred. Nothingis safe. You must go; the time has come for herto be born.”

As I float toward my newdestiny, my thoughts reel. Through the ages inthe shadow realm, it was her who propelled meforward and now the thought of discovering itwas all a lie makes me want to run back thereand hide for eternity. Unsure of my success, mylast communication with The Council wassimply, “We’ll be watching you…closely.”

June 21, 1996Summer Solstice

The Summer Solstice is the day of the year

The Summer Solstice is the day of the year

with the greatest light. Although it is thecrowning of the sun and occurs in the brightesttime of the year, it is a promise of darknessreturning, as well. Not sure if nature mimicsreal life or if real life mimics nature, I note howclosely this resembles my current reality.Returning to the human realm has brought lightupon me that I cannot equate.

The roaring wind and crashing wavesprovide me with a connection to the divine thatI haven’t felt in ages. However, on my ownshores, darkness impedes. I consider thecouncil’s words carefully as I reconstruct theirwords. The implication that I was lead into atrap confounds me. I feel hopeless and at thehands of the manipulation. Is this what fatefeels like? Humans are constantly cursingfate…perhaps it is because they feel as if theyare being pulled along without any real choice.Perhaps they feel as if everything in their life isfake and worthless; an agent of fate that isbeyond their control.

My thoughts are interrupted as I am directedtoward the mountains. The ancient rockswhisper welcoming messages with glee as Iguide, formless, toward my destiny. It’s good tobe home, I beam as I approach the place whereshe is being born.

Home, I consider. The human realm is soreal compared to my twisted, shadowy prison.For a diviner, the presence of darkness withoutlight (and conversely) is an unnatural state. Weare balancers and thrive off the crashing of lightagainst dark. Today, on the solstice, light shinesthroughout. Still, there is an impeding darknessas I move from the foothills of the mountainsinto what humans now refer to as “cities”.

The change that has occurred over the past900 years is staggering and my connection withthe divine is muted as I travel along the streetsof this concrete play land. I am nothing morethan a whisper of the wind as I settle into theroom to greet this new spirit. I am distracted bythe brightness and noise of the room. Thehumans who are overseeing the birth of thechild are many. Is this normal for this timeperiod or do they know the importance of thechild? I wonder before remembering that thelast time a savior was born, all that were presentwere the child’s parents and a few barn animals.

The lines of worry on the doctor’s facestartle me. I have seen this expression manytimes before when I had been sent to carry aspirit into the otherworld. Death hangs in theair, stale and achingly. The rush from it is

air, stale and achingly. The rush from it is

astounding to me, as I have not felt aconnection to human emotion in such a longtime.

The thought of death in the air at thismoment in time is disturbing. I think of TheCouncil’s warning: Nothing is sacred. Nothingis safe. Could it be that the corruption is herenow and the forces of darkness are at play atthis very moment? I consider for a moment thatthe corruption could be attempting to steal thenew spirit from the world before she has achance to fulfill her destiny. I push thesethoughts out of my head and force myself tofocus on the events before me.

I feel hopeless as I await the outcome andam delighted to hear the screeching of new life.A light fills the room as the doctor announcesthe birth of a baby girl and I feel at ease that thegirl is safe. The mother beams with delight asshe snuggles her newborn child in her arms. Shesmiles at her husband, the tired smile of a newmom and cries.

“We will call her Awen.” She moans and theroom is filled with a deafening pitch, unlikeanything I had ever heard. The mother’s armsgo limp and the baby is scooped up by thehusband as the doctor’s rush in. The separating

husband as the doctor’s rush in. The separating

of spirit and body is undeniable to me butunseen by everyone else in the room. As thespirit of Awen’s mother floats toward TheOtherworld, the joy in the room is tainted by anaching darkness.

In the joy of her birth, Awen has also beentainted by darkness. She is pure light on Earth.Still, darkness crashes and booms around her. Iwatch her cooing at her father, beaming purelight into him and I realize that his sorrow islessened. Through tears he grips her, clinging toher light and promises to protect her forever.

She is the light in the darkness; thebeckoning sun. Born on this day of greatestlight, she must traverse the depths of humanmisery to bring light to the world. She is cursedwith a fate so arduous that it will always bethreatening to destroy her. She must be strong infacing her destiny for she is both savior andsacrifice…

Chapter TwentyChapter Twenty

Protecting AwenProtecting Awen

April 11, 1999

Her red curls glisten in the springtime sun.The flowers glow to meet her, acknowledgingher light. She has grown into her role so greatlythat even the trees stretch their energy to greether. As she climbs onto the bow of the great treein her floral print Easter dress, the spirit of itlowers toward her. The spirit of the treesabound by her touch and for a moment, they areone.

Her father sees her as dreamer and worriesthat she doesn’t communicate well. What hedoesn’t see is that she communicates moreclearly than any other child. She speaks thelanguage of the divine and everything she

language of the divine and everything she

touches if filled with her glowing light. Sheunderstands the whispers of the wind andinfuses her will into the sky.

When she is happy, the sun beams back ather with delight. When she is sad, tears well inthe clouds and fall upon the world around her.She is so in tune with everything and everyonearound her that words become useless. One lookinto her soft blue eyes promises secrets fromThe Otherworld, creates trust, andcommunicates her feelings perfectly. She doesnot state her needs with words, she does so withintention.

In this moment, her intention is to climb thetree and feel the wind as it blows through thebows of it. Her intention is to touch the divine.At this state, she does not need to define it, sheonly needs to feel it and as the spirit of thedivine rushes through her, she tumbles.Crashing downward, her human instinctawakens and fear flows from her.

My spirit surges toward her as I scramble tosoften the blow. The wind answers my surgeand together we protect her from harm. Herspirit softens and all fear dissipates. She thanksthe wind and as her father rushes to coddle her,her eyes shift toward me. A moment of

her eyes shift toward me. A moment of

recognition plays across her face as he carriesher away.

Stunned, I recoil. She didn’t see me, didshe? I had promised myself, at the beginning, tobe nothing more to her than a whisper. I will notassume a body or become a part of her life. Iwill always be around her without ever lettingher know me. This was the only way I canremain detached from her. This was the onlyway I can stay uninvolved.

As I watch her play, I am reminded thathumans are connected to the divine andsometimes recognize it in the eyes of thediviner. I have experienced this recognitionbefore, in the eyes of many but never outside ofhuman form. Never before had a humanacknowledge me so clearly while I was in spiritform. I have never felt gazing eyes fall upon meas I lurked in the shadows of the trees.

She knows nothing of the world yet I feel asif she understands. Does she know who I am…who she is? Does she know of her destiny?

Impossible, I think as she climbs upon herdaddy’s lap for a story, she’s just a child.

Chapter Twenty OneChapter Twenty One

Divine InterventionDivine Intervention

September 15, 2005

School has complicated Awen’s life. Shefinds learning easy and she excels academically.However, she is learning quickly that otherchildren do not communicate in the samemanner that she does. As childhood beginsslipping from their fingertips, her peers havestopped seeing the beauty of the Earth and havebegun focusing on fulfilling more societalneeds.

When the fall wind blows, Awen’s peers pulltheir jackets tighter and trudge forward, as theyrace toward their houses. Awen opens her jacketto feel the rush of it and takes note of thechanging energy in the air. She stands in awe of

changing energy in the air. She stands in awe of

nature and her peers stand in awe of herweirdness.

How can they be so deaf to the voice of thedivine, she ponders of her peers.

“How come you’re so strange?” They mockher in return.

Awen is beautiful and friendly, like adelicate flower. She sees the intention of therising and setting sun and she delights in it.There are times that she feels separated from therest of society, as if she is made up ofcompletely different matter than her peers. Inthese moments, her light is dulled and a familiarache returns.

I read the questions as they flow through hermind: Would she feel so alone if her mother hadsurvived? What kind words would she haveoffered in these moments of despair? She sets ather kitchen table as her Father prepares dinner.Her homework is on the table in front of her buther thoughts are unfocused.

“How was your day, Wen?” Art calls fromthe kitchen.

“It was great.” She said. “We did an

“It was great.” She said. “We did an

experiment with batteries that was pretty cool.”

“That’s great. How was art class?” He isalways asking her about how she is doing withher painting. He wants so badly to fostercreativity in her.

“I started a Pop Art piece today but nobodyelse knows who Andy Warhol is.” Awen returnswith hesitation and then adds, “It is fine thoughbecause I got to tell the entire class about himand even got to show them some of his work. Itwas exciting.”

This is how she talks to her Father. Shealways highlights the best parts of her days forhim so that he will feel ease about herdevelopment. She knows he worries about howshe is doing in school and how she is gettingalong with her peers. Art realizes that she isdifferent than other children but he can neverpinpoint the reason.

He always attributes her differences to theloss of her mother. Although he has doneeverything within his power to fill this void, heknew he was falling short. There are things thatonly a mother can provide to a young femaleand Art was aware of this. When he met, andfell in love with Diana, he felt as if he was

fell in love with Diana, he felt as if he was

mending this tear in Awen’s soul and that itwould supplement, but never replace, thegreatest loss that his daughter would everexperience.

I understood this, as well, and when Ibrought the two together, I knew that Art’sfatherly instincts would work in the favor of thedivine. In memory, the plan seems great but itisn’t going as smoothly as I, or Art, hoped itwould. Diana is limited in her capacity tounderstand Awen’s needs and has fallen short ofmaking a true connection with her stepdaughter.

Tonight that is all going to change. I thinkas I slink in the shadows around the room. Ihave tried to allow the natural forces ofhumanity to propel the two together but it hasn’twork. So, I have devised a plan to bring the twotogether.

As Awen sest, exploring the depths ofhuman despair, I travel toward Diana. Using myspirit to guide me, I flow through the city and to“Diana’s”, a beauty boutique on the other sideof town. Diana is processing a new shipment ofbow ties when I arrive and I have to considerwhat method to use to get her home early,before Awen goes to bed.

I have tried using the wind and rain to speakto her. I have tried to send her messages throughthe natural cycles of the Earth and it is neversuccessful. In these moments, she simply cursesthe meteorologist and moves onward with herday, always focused on the latest “trends”, salesreports and cash flow. She is so disconnectedfrom the divine that I know I will have toemploy more modern means of communicatingwith her.

As she stands, counting the ties, lightningstrikes the power pole outside her shop and thepower to the entire block is cut. As the trafficlights blink to silence, screeching tires andtwisted metal denote a crash. Diana has to closedown the shop and take the long way home,which will give me time to alert her to Awen’sdistress.

In the car, pop music blasts on the radio andI realize that she will not hear my whispershere, either. The modern world is riddled withdistractions and the diviner’s job is now morearduous than ever. As the storm moves in closer,static playes throughout the car’s radio andDiana turns it off, leaving us alone at last.

Slowly, I begin to feed her images. The firstis of Awen alone at recess, sketching a picture

is of Awen alone at recess, sketching a picture

of her teacher’s mood. It is a beautiful array ofdeep purples and muted greens, denoting herteacher’s wisdom and prosperity. The second isthe memory of Awen sensing the wind andbeing teased by her peers. Each time, Iemphasize Awen’s emotions and paint thepicture of a little girl who is being ostracized byher peers. I paint the picture, in her mind, of alittle girl who needs advice…who needs amother.

Diana’s expression or thoughts give no

indication that my message has registered. Shepulls into the driveway, grabbing her briefcaseand goes inside to greet her husband andstepdaughter. Dinner continues uneventfullyand small talk flows with the passing of bread. Ilurk in the room, unseen, and count my effortsas fruitless. Pondering a “Plan B”, I ampleasantly surprised when Diana displays a raremoment of tenderness toward Awen and offersto help her complete her homework.

Alone in Awen’s room, Diana and Awen talkabout the required reading. Awen warms towardDiana and realizing this, Diana speaks candidlytoward her. She speaks of a time, as a child,when she is ostracized by her peers. Awenresponds to this and tells her step mom thatshe’s never had that problem but she has a

she’s never had that problem but she has a

friend who has. She asks her step mom whatadvice she should offer to her “friend” aboutthis issue.

Offering advice to a young child is adelicate task and a rite of passage for allparents. Children cling to the words of adultslike security blankets and the wrong advice canalter the path of a child. For Awen, this is amonumental occasion, for she has neverreceived advice from a mother figure and it issomething her soul needs. For Diana, it is a test.Whether she will be an instrument for the divineplan will be decided from the outcome of thissimple communication.

I am suspended around the pair, searchingfor meaning in their expressions. As they speak,Awen chooses her words very carefully,revealing only the parts of her soul that she ismost comfortable with. She dances around theedges of the truth as if it is a dangerous pit thatmay cause her death, if she does not stepcarefully.

Diana senses Awen’s reservations andspeaks in generalities. Her hesitation matchesthat of her stepdaughter’s and so the two engagein a dance. It is the dance of two people tryingeach other out. Like a new pair of shoes, each is

each other out. Like a new pair of shoes, each is

deciding if the other fits.

The conversation ends without any usefuladvice being given. Diana’s response to herstepdaughter’s problems can be summed up bythis statement, “If the other children don’t likesomething about you, you should change it.” Asadvice goes, that will never work for Awen.Giving up her appreciation for the divine wouldbe the equation of ripping off her shadow andcasting it into the sea.

There are warm moments between the twoand Awen replies to Diana’s statement regardingher transformation from a book worm to afashionista with a humorous “You mean, yougave up reading to be popular?” In this moment,the two of them share a giggle and the edge ofAwen’s pain is numbed. She may never meether mother but perhaps she has found a femalerole model that she can trust.

By the end of the conversation, Diana hasneither failed nor passed my test. It is certainthat she will not be writing a manifesto ofchildhood advice anytime soon but she hasachieved a connection with Awen that astoundsme. The past years have created a wall withinAwen that nobody, not even her dad, has beenable to climb. She is terrified of criticism and

able to climb. She is terrified of criticism and

has become meticulous in her interactions withother humans.

This will never do, for the light of the worldmust have the ability to communicate. She mustbe able to reach all of humanity on an intimatelevel. She must accept and be accepted alikeand she should never hide the depths of her soulout of fear. I decide that I will have to bend myrules and make contact with her. I will helpguide her in the safest possible way.

That night, as she drifts to sleep, I constructmyself into a shape which resembles a humanform. I touch her head lightly and whisper intoher ear.

Chameleons do not shed their skin; theysimply change the color of it. It is a mask. Theydo not conform, they simply blend.

She drifts to sleep and her dreams are filledwith chameleons of every size and color. Theyare congregating in her mind, formulating aplan. Awen sees them as nighttimeentertainment. She enjoys the playfulness andas they move from rock to grass, she is amusedby them. She is unaware that they are teachingher to blend, while staying true to herself. Bythe rise of the sun, Awen’s dreams have solved

the rise of the sun, Awen’s dreams have solved

her problem and she wakes to greet the daywithout abandon. Today, she decides, will bebetter than the last.

Chapter Twenty TwoChapter Twenty Two

Cruel IntentionsCruel Intentions

December 21, 2009

Every day, I stand in awe of her progress. Iwatch as the wind swirls around her, creating asmall vacuum and lifting the snow flurrieswhich have accumulated around her legs. Theydance in rhythm around her and swirl upward,encasing her. She sets still, her intent focusedon the wind as it carries the snow around her,when she is startled by a commotion in her frontyard.

“Freak!” they taunt as Cleary McQuintocklies hopeless in the freshly fallen snow. Theyare circling him like buzzards and taking turnsthrowing snowballs at the helpless boy. Clearyoften becomes fodder for the bullies. Cleary is a

often becomes fodder for the bullies. Cleary is a

thirteen year old boy with long legs, long armsand a small frame. His hair is a dull red, makinghim stand out among the crowd. A little wavy, itseems to set on top of his head in delicate folds.On his face sets a pair of eyes unlike any otherin this small town. The left eye burns a deepamber while the right shines a deep blue thatseems to permeate through your soul when hegazes upon you. All in all, he is a good lookingboy. He is kind and smart and so the girls atschool have befriended him.

Jealousy plays out, as it tends to do withboys this age, and results in thrown punches andbloodied noses. The bullies would target Clearybecause of his differences and because his waywith the ladies. They would taunt him about hiseyes and beat him up regularly. Cleary isn’tdefenseless but he is kind and gentle and wouldnever fight back. This is the third time this weekthat the Jones boys have chosen to taunt Clearyin this manner but it is the first time that Awenhad been present.

She bolts around the house in a heated rage,grabs the oldest of the Jones boys (Alcester) andshoves him backward toward the sidewalk. Sherolls her fist into a tight ball and hits him in thejaw, slinging him back into the road. As he fallsbackwards, she hopes…no she wishes that the

backwards, she hopes…no she wishes that the

Jones boys would get what is coming to them.

Art and Diana step outside to greet thecommotion in her front yard and they watch infear as Alcester is falling backward from thesidewalk to the street and in front of a movingvehicle. It happens in slow motion. Withoutmuch time to react, Awen focuses her energy onthe wind and wraps it around him, cushioningthe blow. Still, he is hit by the front of themoving vehicle and his body is propelledupward, crashing into the windshield.

Blood flows from the scene in the street andemergency services are contacted immediately.The ambulance arrives and Alcester Jones istaken to the hospital with nothing more than abroken arm and a few deep cuts. As they loadhim into the ambulance, he is exclaiming hissorrow for picking on Cleary and vowing tonever bully another child again.

Guilt quakes Awen. Every fiber of hair onher head, throughout her limbs and in the pit ofthe stomach, an aching pulse of darknessascends. Nobody blames Awen for the accident.“It is just a case of bad timing”, they comforther as she sat on the sidewalk, her head restingon the top of her knees.

She will not listen to them. Their words rolloff her and her expression is mute. Of coursethey don’t blame me, she pondered. They don’tknow what I’m capable of. It is true, they don’tknow what she is capable of. Since thechameleon dream when she was nine, Awen hasbecome a master at blending. By the time shereceived her powers, she had mastered the artof socialization and she was very popular. Shemay not be fully human but she plays the partwell. She studies normality and understandssociety. Because of this, she knows that societywill not accept her if she reveals her powers.

So she keeps them balled up inside of her.Like all well kept secrets, she lends it tonobody. She only practices when she is aloneand uses her powers discreetly. The secret hasgrown within her, creating a feeling that she isalone in the knowledge of it. So when she hadwished doom upon Alcester Jones, she aloneknows the power she is emitting. I know whatI’m capable of, she thinks and silently holdsherself, alone, responsible for his injuries.

Blowing playfully in the breeze around her,I tease at her edges and beckoned her to openup to me. Her shell hardens and she places thedark edges outwardly, so that I will not be ableto penetrate. She feels so alone in her guilt that

to penetrate. She feels so alone in her guilt that

she will not even let the wind give her comfort.I wish I could communicate with her. I wish Icould show her that I, too, know what she iscapable of and that she is not capable of causingthis accident.

I wish I could show her, with some vision ordream, that some other force has caused theaccident to happen. It has been done in anattempt to instill guilt and sorrow within Awenand hinder her from using her newly gainedpowers…and it is working! I can’t make her seebecause it wasn’t something that I, myself, fullyunderstood. I shudder at the thought that I cannot pinpoint where it had come from.

I am sure that it was a diviner and that thisdiviner is acting against the goodwill of thisrealm. I just don’t know what form this divinertakes or how they are able to commit such anact without detection. Perhaps I am inadequateto protect her. Had the years in the ShadowRealm hampered my ability to act as a diviner?I realize that I, too, am alone in this moment. Asabove, so below. Awen and I are disconnected inbody but connected in our loneliness andinadequacies to understand the gravity of theseevents.

Later that night, Awen sleeps and I am

Later that night, Awen sleeps and I am

hunched in the corner of her room ponderingways that I can protect her. I am mapping out alist of “trusted” people in her life to pinpointwho the rouge diviner may be when I amstartled.

Awen’s spirit begins to float out of her bodyas she sleeps. The separation of spirit occursquickly and as the astral body takes form, Iprepare to travel. Awen has never projectedbefore and she has certainly never traveled.What is propelling her, now, to travel to adistant realm? More importantly, was shetraveling to some place safe? As her astral bodyfloats upward and away, I make haste:following her to a place unknown.

Chapter Twenty ThreeChapter Twenty Three

DistanceDistance

I set in the corner of her room, waiting forher to fully awaken. The morning breeze gentlyblows a kiss on her soft, pale cheek as shecomes into her waking body. It has beenmoments since we had sat in that great tree,talking about fate, yet it is worlds away and mydistance from it makes me nervous.

I had peered into her eyes and seenunderstanding. I knew, in that moment, that shewas considering the possibility of the dangerthat could arise from using her new power.Now, I find myself wondering if my warningwill play in her head whenever she considersusing it.

As she wakes, I slip further away from her.

As she wakes, I slip further away from her.

The days are gone that I could dance in the airaround her without notice. From the first timeshe traveled to the shadow realm and came toknow my spirit form, she had begun torecognize me in the wind. She had began toseparate the whispers of the divine from myown.

Now, I am on the outside of her life andbound to her only as Cai. I can watch from adistance but it is becoming increasingly difficultto guide her in the human realm. I linger aroundher from a distance and as I wait outside herbedroom window, I ache to be near her.

As a diviner, I have always been so sure inknowing the outcome of things. Surprise hasnever been an element in my life. WatchingAwen wield the great sword of light was thefirst time that I had taken part in events that Ifelt were beyond my control. It was the firsttime in ages that I had seen the unfolding ofevents which appeared to be beyond the reachof fate.

Chapter Twenty FourChapter Twenty Four

CorruptionCorruption

I experience a few more memories of Caiwatching me from the distance. I especiallynote a tugging pain welling inside Cai as I reachup and touch Cleary’s arm and I note the flowof worry through him as he watches me fromthe shadows in the hospital room. Then, I feelmyself floating back into my own astral formand I look around for Cai.

He sets above me, in the great tree,surrounded by solemn silence. Thoughts ofCai’s love, his betrayal and his redemption swirlin my mind and crash against words such assavior and sacrifice. Cai has been lurking in theshadows around me my entire life and it is

shadows around me my entire life and it is

obvious that he means no harm to me. Instead,he has been guiding and protecting me theentire time.

Cai starts slowly toward me and speaks in acareful tone, “Do you understand, now?”

I nod slowly before asking, “In the dream Ihad…you were…”

He cut me off, “It was a horrible thing, whatI did. I killed a lot of innocent people.” Hehangs his head in shame. “Her name wasEdolina.” It quivers from his lips and I know hehasn’t spoken the name in some time. “She wasthe kindest spirit that I had encountered, at thattime. She was gentle and lovely, and she wasvery loved…by many. She had a small childwhose father had died in the war. The child wasmeant to grow to be a great warrior, propelledby the untimely death of his mother.”

A heavy sigh wells inside him before hecontinues his explanation. “I had broken the onerule of a diviner. I had become involved. Whenit came time for me to cause her death, Icouldn’t do it. In that moment, I saw the child’ssweet innocent face change into a ragingmaniac of war. It…I…” he whispered “I feltlove. Diviners aren’t supposed to be able to do

love. Diviners aren’t supposed to be able to do

that.”

He stares into my eyes for a moment, tryingto conceal his thoughts from me, beforefinishing with, “She died anyway…and I cursedThe Council for it. I cursed fate and turned myblades on innocent men because of my owndespair. I disrupted the balance and harmony inthe word and so what you humans now call the“Dark Ages” began.” He takes another heavybreath, “I deserve an eternity here, in theshadow realm. I deserve the attack you camehere to perpetrate upon me. I cannot die but thepain of it would be more welcome than thememories of that time in my life.”

He studies my reactions to his wordscarefully. I am speechless and emotionless as Itry to imagine the pain surging through him. Asmile spreads across his face. “You, Awen, aremy redemption. You are the world’s redemption.You have more light and beauty inside you thanan entire continent of today’s humans. You havealways struggled with your abnormalities butyou need to know that this is how you’resupposed to be. You’re supposed to be a lightinto the world.”

Everything I had just experienced andlearned builds within me. Slowly, I feel the

learned builds within me. Slowly, I feel the

parts within myself begin to rearrange. I feel asif I have truly seen myself for the first time,through the eyes of Cai. I understand, now, theconnections between all the seemingly randomand unfair things that have occurred during mylifetime. I may not be a superhero but I do havea purpose. Even with lingering fears about howit will all end, I feel fulfilled. I feel justified.

“Why didn’t you tell me, sooner?” I ask,halfway knowing the answer.

“I couldn’t. That would have changed thetrajectory of your entire life.” His eyes narrow.“As much as my past haunts me; as much as ithurts…I know it was meant to be. If it weren’tfor the path I have walked, I wouldn’t be here toprotect and guide you. I have never known adiviner to be subject of fate before and I don’tfully understand why I am. There are things thatare hidden, even to me.”

The word hidden kicks a door open in mybrain. “So, who is this corruption that TheCouncil spoke about?”

“I don’t know.” A sense of failure fills hiseyes. “I can see the things in your life that areout of place. I can see that you’re being tuggedaway from your true destiny but I can’t see who

away from your true destiny but I can’t see who

is doing the pulling. I’ve tried very hard butthey remain hidden…even to me. I do knowthat it is somebody close to you.”

Nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe. TheCouncil’s warning echoes in my head. So, I dohave a villain to fight against, I just have tofigure out who it is. As the words flow throughmy mind, I feel the familiar tugging of my spiritto my body.

Noticing this, Cai speaks hastily, “I do notknow what’s coming next! Whatever orwhoever is trying to derail you is strikingharder. I do not know when I will see you again.You have to know that I will always be aroundyou. I will always guide and protect you.”

Fighting the tug toward my waking bodywith all my might, I ask “How do I know whatis fate and what is circumstance? How do Iseparate the plan of the divine from the plan ofmy foes?”

“You do what you always do. You listen,you feel, you see. Everything you need is withinyou. It’s time to open yourself up and trust thesethings. It’s time to end the struggle and climbtoward the top of the Great Tree of Life.” Hiswords fade as I lose the fight against my own

words fade as I lose the fight against my own

spirit and float back into my body.

I awake to numbness and stingingthroughout my entire being. The memories ofthe shadow world are groggy and slow to wake.As the edges of my room come into focus, I tryto concrete them in my mind. I try to placeeverything I have learned on the edges ofmyself.

I look at the clock. I have been asleep for 14hours. The morning’s sun is smiling at mywindow and the smell of bacon and eggs waftsup the stairs and into my room. My spirit feelsforeign in my human body and I can feel thecompartments and boxes of myself opening up,slowly. I get dressed and without suppressingmy light, I walk downstairs, toward my family.

Chapter Twenty FiveChapter Twenty Five

AppreciationAppreciation

My dad and Diana are setting down tobreakfast when the noise of me entering theroom causes them to look my way. The sight ofme startles them. I hadn’t considered what Imust look like with my unkempt hair and teeththat are in need of brushing. They both stare atme for a moment before Diana brakes thesilence.

“You look like you slept well” There issomething more to her words and as she speaksthem, I realize that it is small talk with largeintention. She means to say that she is glad tosee me doing well but in her simplicity, sheonly offers this pleasant greeting. She stands upand pulls out a chair while my dad scrambles inthe kitchen, tossing pancakes and bacon onto a

the kitchen, tossing pancakes and bacon onto a

plate for me. He is nervous, I can feel it in thevibrations around him. I had been so caught upin revenge after the blackout and the dream thatI hadn’t even considered what he must be goingthrough.

The look on Diana’s face as I walk past heris astonishment. My dad and Diana both freezein anticipation of my next move. I wrap myarms around my dad, giving him the warmesthug I can manage. His edges are rigid as hehalf-embraces me. I can feel a rock solid wallbetween us as we stand in a silent embrace. Mydad has done as I have and learned tocompartmentalize. It is a coping skill for raisinga child through mourning and I can feel himpulling back, hiding is pain from me.

I release first and looking him in the eyes, Ismile a kind smile. It is the kind of smile that achild gives to their father to show admirationand appreciation. With hesitation, he returns thegesture. The edges of his wall crumble slightlybut the foundation of it remains intact. I see theworry in his eyes as he studies my face. He hadwatched my mother die in a hospital bed 17years ago. It is a wound which has somewhathealed. Time and new love has created a patchwhich just covered the scar.

Seeing me lying in a hospital bed, hopelessand without the certainty of life, had ripped atthe patch. Old pain is surfacing and I can see itwelling up inside him. Another emotion ispeeking at me from behind the wall. I focus onit for a moment but rusty with my empathy, Ican’t get a clear feeling on it.

For so many years, I have been selfish. Ihave focused on finding normality andstruggling with my identity that I have forgottento take inventory of those around me. My dadand Diana are top on that list. Diana has beenby my side since I came home from thehospital. She has dealt with me with temperanceand patience that I have never seen from herbefore. In this moment, my edges toward hersoften. I give her a gentle smile which says,“Thank you for being there for me” as I setdown to eat breakfast.

Small talk replaces the awkward tension inthe air and I welcome it. I realize now that thisidle chit-chat is a way to fill the air betweenbodies in a room. It isn’t the topic ofconversation or words that matter but rather theconnection from one human to the other. I makea mental note to be a better daughter as my dadand Diana fill me in on the news I missed whileI was sick.

I feel the clicking of my brain as I try tomake room for Cai’s memories in my own life.In the spirit world, they were easy to understandbut a veil of reality has closed around them andI find myself trying to make sense of everythingagain. My human brain looks at things in amuch more logical manner than my spirit onedoes and I find myself rationalizing everythingaround me. I begin this by looking inward andthen without.

Cai’s memories create a more completeview of my life. By gazing in from the outside,I am aware at how segmented I have become. Iallow these to highlights to run freely throughmy human brain as I stare at Diana across ourbreakfast. She isn’t my mom and she doesn’tunderstand me but she tries. I decide in thatmoment to try and open up to her and let her in.I decide to let the world in and start living mylife, before it has a chance to end.

I fill the time in between breakfast andlunch in my room, thinking about everythingthat has happened this week. As the questionsabout my purpose and destiny crash on theoutside of me, they beg to be answered. I knowI must unravel the mystery. I must find thesource of corruption in my life and face it. I

source of corruption in my life and face it. I

must face my destiny. In order for that tohappen, I am going to have to change the way Ido things. Someone close to me is the source of“The Corruption” in my life. Looking at thesituation in a divine manner isn’t solving theproblem. I realize that in order to solve themystery, I am going to have to look at it in avery human manner.

In my search for normality, I haveconstructed walls and boundaries to hidebehind. I catalog actions and reactions of othersbut I have never acted or reacted on my ownmerit. Cai is the only person in my entire worldwho has ever seen any honesty out of me. Toeveryone else, I am a mirror image. I am amock human, not an authentic one. It is nowonder that I can’t pinpoint who in my life isbeing honest with me because I’m not evenhonest with myself.

I realize in this moment that honesty will bethe key for tracking down the source ofcorruption in my life and I use this realization toallow myself to move forward without focusingdirectly on the corruption. Like the things in mypast, the things in my future will unravel withtime and understanding. I know I must startwithin. I must fix myself first and then begin tolook for indications of the corruption in my life.

look for indications of the corruption in my life.

I must stop mocking life and begin living it, forit is the only way I will ever meet my fate.

The truth is that there are other reasons whyit is important that I begin to experience life.Cai had referred to me as both savior andsacrifice. These words kick around inside myhead and cause me to recoil. I know thatsomething great is upon me and the feeling thatmy life will be a lot shorter than I had hopedtakes seat within me. Anytime man faces theirmortality, the lingering question is “how have Ispent it?”. When I ask this question, I don’t likethe answer.

Seeing life through Cai’s eyes made me filllike I was less than human. Cai sees humans asincredibly intricate beings. He is in awe of thehuman ability to connect; to feel. This is exactlywhat I need. I need to begin to truly connect tothe people around me. In order to do this, I amgoing to have to open myself up. I am going tohave to truly be known. I need to risk seemingimperfect at times, in exchange for being real.As it stands now, I feel more like a diviner. Ifeel more like I am being forced to stand on theedge of humanity in observation of it.

I do not want my life to end before I everallow myself to experience it. I am surrounded

allow myself to experience it. I am surrounded

by people whom I care deeply about and I wantto have the chance to allow them to truly knowme. I want to allow them to love me back. Iwant to open up and show Lacy the beauty inthe sunrise or help my dad and Diana hear thewhispers in the wind. I have spent my entire lifefeeling ashamed at how differently I see, andexperience, the world around me. I want sobadly to open up. I want to know that when I’mgone, there will be some trace of true testamentto who I am left behind. At this point, theresimply isn’t. The Awen Murdock thateverybody knows is a lie.

I decide that I will not allow the weight ofmy destiny pull me inward but use it as acatalyst to push me forward. I will alloweverything that I keep hidden to be seen and(hopefully) appreciated. It will take some timebut I will start small. I promise to allow myselfto live in the moment more and attempt to havetrue interactions with those around me.

News of my recovery trickles down andLacy calls to say she was on her way over. Ihurry to take a shower and get dressed, ensuringthat I seem as healthy as possible. I am excitedto get caught up on everything I missed atschool during my 3 day absence but nervous to

school during my 3 day absence but nervous to

hear how Cleary reacted to “the incident”. Ihaven’t really had time, until now, to considerhow my blackout looked and I wonder if Clearywill change his mind about taking me to the FallFormal. I throw on the usual t-shirt and jeansbut decide to blow dry and straighten my hair. Ialso put on some makeup and set on the bed,reading a book while I wait for Lacy.

I’m somewhere in the middle of solving thelatest mystery when I hear Lacy’s vehicle pullup in the drive. I fight my urge to jump up andrush downstairs to meet her. Instead, I staylounged on my bed, trying to focus on myreading. In the moments that I wait for her toget out of her car, knock on the door andexchange pleasantries with Diana, I re-read thesame line in my novel a few times.

Finally, I hear Lacy’s footsteps, leading herup the stairs and into my bedroom. She knocksquietly and I roise to open the door. A ray ofsunshine beams from her when she sees myface. I watch as the weight that has beencollecting within her subsides. She gives me herbest Lacy smile and I feel at home in it. Foronce, I don’t try to emulate her smile but I giveher an honest one of my own. It is not as big orbright as her own but it says, simply “I missedyou.”

With that, the familiar pieces of ourfriendship fall in place. Before I know it, we aresetting on my bed and she is filling me in oneverything that happened at school while I wasgone. Most of the news focuses around the FallFormal. It is a conversation of “who’s goingwith who” and “I can’t believe she turned himdown” but between old friends it is much morethan that. It’s like slipping into a favoritesweater. These are the routines which define ourfriendship and for once, I don’t allow my mindto stray too far from the conversation.

I refuse the urge to bask in her normality orwonder if my reactions are out of place. Instead,I give my full attention to her words. I allowmyself to exist in the moment with her and hopeI am giving her the attention she truly deserves.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet.”

“Asked what?” I am caught off guard by thequestion. I think I’m doing a good job atlistening to her but I don’t quite understandwhat she’s talking about now.

“Cleary?” She says his name as if I shouldbe realizing the meaning behind it. My mindclicks backward to the question that I had been

clicks backward to the question that I had been

pondering as I was getting ready to see Lacy.

“Oh, yeah, I was wondering that.” I decideto try on some human vulnerability. “I didn’task because I am afraid I won’t like theanswer.”

She seems taken back by my honesty. “I cansee why you would feel that way. There aresome people at school who thought yourblackout was kind of weird”

She doesn’t know how much those wordshurt. I hate the thought of seeming abnormaland I have to work to fight back my ruse fromslipping up and taking over. She notices myreservation and continues quickly. “But nobodyimportant. Just people who don’t know you.”

People on the outside of me…great, that’severybody

“Cleary is very worried about you.” Shesays, hoping it will make me feel more at ease.It’s almost like she has known about my ruse allalong and so she appreciates this moment oftender honesty that I’m giving her. She delightsat my vulnerability.

A genuine smile slides across my face. “So

A genuine smile slides across my face. “So

he hasn’t found another date to the FallFormal?”

She shakes her head “no” and hands me aslip of paper. “In fact, he told me to have youcall him when you start feeling better.”

I cling to the paper with fear andtrepidation. I have never allowed myself tobecome excited with things as mundane asschool dances and prospective boyfriends. Asmy own excitement floods throughout me, Idelight in the feeling of it.

Lacy teases at me for a moment, trying toget me to call him now. We talk for a momentabout what I would say to him and what hewould say back. She pretends to be Cleary andlaughs at my awkwardness in answering herquestions. In the end, we decide that it is best Idon’t call him. Instead, she decides to set upanother double date. It’s probably best if Ihandle this in person, anyway.

A realization spreads in my mind as shepulls up Alecster’s number in his phone to texthim. “So, how are things with you andAlecster?”

She looks up from her phone and a light

She looks up from her phone and a light

surrounds her. “He texts me every day. I’vebeen too worried about you to go out with himbut he wants another date. I really like him,Awen.”

I’m genuinely happy for her. Part of mybrain begs me to warn her how dangerous he isbut the part of me that wants to be humanpushes it back. Normal teenagers makemistakes and they allow their friends to makemistakes. “As long as he doesn’t pick you up onhis motorcycle.” I tease.

She laughs back. “He’s not as much of a badboy as he seems. Most of it is just for show. Imust say, I quite enjoy the show.” Lacy alwayshas a soft spot for people with a hint of dangeraround them. I think it’s because they’re sodifferent than herself. I can identify with this.Perhaps the reason why I feel so drawn to Lacyis because I admire her mundane nature. Maybethis is how humans work. Maybe they findpeople who compliment them and cling to them.Maybe this is what we need to feel whole.

Still, I imagine Lacy and Alecster in thefuture. He’s hosting poker night in the basementof their house with a group of very questionablecharacters while she’s upstairs baking a quiche.I laugh to myself and realizing that I am

I laugh to myself and realizing that I am

drawing inward, I decide to let Lacy in on mythoughts.

“So, let’s say that he likes you as much ashim. You guys date through college and decide,when you graduate, to get married. What doesthat look like?”

Lacy ponders this for a moment. She musthave seen what I did because she laughed.“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we? Well, I supposethat either I will tame him throughout the yearsor he will bring out my wil* side.” We bothlaugh at this. I am trying to picture Lacy’s wildside when Alecster texts back. Lacy let me readthe text. It simply says, We’re on babe!Tomorrow 7pm, Menudos sound okay?

She replies with a simple: sounds great. Fora moment, I ponder the simpleness of theirwords but push myself outward to experiencethe moment, rather than assess it. Excitementflows between us. It is an open circuit and itflows both ways, instead of the usual one-wayflow we experience. I allow her to pick out anoutfit for me and as we discuss hair and makeupchoices, I feel like a normal teenage girl. I feelhuman.

Chapter Twenty SixChapter Twenty Six

Fall FormalFall Formal

September 22, 2013

I have not traveled to the shadow worldsince after the blackout, when I had tried to killCai. It was alarming at first and I missedconnection with him and a world that had cometo be as real as the waking world to me. Istruggle with everything that has happened inthat short week and it threatens to pull me backinto the darkness that I lived in before. I cling tomy light and allow my logical brain to sort outthe details.

I conclude that the blackout, dream, and theencounter with Cai are all proponents of mydestiny. Each had began and ended exactlywhen they were supposed to. At the end of the

when they were supposed to. At the end of the

sequence of events, I have gained theknowledge I need to free me from the prison Ihave created within myself. These events havegiven me a purpose and created a newappreciation for my humanity. The origins ofmy powers are no longer a mystery and I evenknew the purpose of them, giving me aconfidence in myself that I never thought wouldbe possible.

I will not allow myself to miss Cai because Iknow that his mission has been fulfilled. Inshowing me his memories, he had given meeverything that I need to move forward. He hastaught me enough about diviners for me toknow that they never became a constant in ahumans life. I know that they act as supportersof destiny and once they propel a human in adirection, they move out of their lives forever.Sometimes, I feel him in the wind around me. Iknow he is close to me and that he will alwaysbe watching but he can never again be a realpart of my life.

I wonder what his inability to truly move onsignifies about our relationship. I find myselfaching to be near him sometimes after the sunsets and I spend the night, sleepless, recallingour time together in the shadow world. Duringthese times, I cling to my humanity and the

these times, I cling to my humanity and the

connections I have with those around me. Icling to Lacy, Alecster, Cleary, my dad andeven Diana. This is perhaps the greatest gift thatCai has given me. I have learned to openmyself up, just a bit, to those around me. In theabsence of Cai in my life, I have begun to maketrue human connections.

Although I am still sure that “TheCorruption” lurks around me, I find that theserelationships help build the light within me tokeep the darkness at bay. I have not made anyprogress in figuring out who in my life is anagent for this force but I have come to termswith my past and my future. I am now able tofocus on the present. I am learning to live in themoment.

Sometime in the future, I will fulfill mydestiny and save the world. It seems so heavy tothink of it but the truth of the matter is that Ihave no idea when, or how, this will happen.Furthermore, I have absolutely no control overit. I may be the savior of the world but I amonly human. I’m sure that some small event willbecome a catalyst for the events which will leadme toward it but there is no way for me topinpoint which events will lead me to or deter itfrom happening.

So, I do the only thing I can. I moveforward. Just like every other human in thisworld, I ride the waves around me. I knowwhen something meaningful happens, I willknow what to do. I will deal with it then. Rightnow, things seem manageable and balanced.The weight of my destiny falls off me and I amjust a teenage girl, preparing for my school’sFall Formal.

Lacy arrives early, with her dress and a boxfull of accessories for us to try on. We have ahair and makeup appointment before the guyswill arrive to pick us up. Then, we will engagein photo time for our parents and leave in timeto make dinner reservations before the dance.My inner voice sees it all as overkill andpointless but I stuff that down.

Seeing the light in Lacy’s eyes signifies thatI should allow myself to be excited about it all,too. I push back my inner voice and immersemyself into the activities of the day. We movethrough our hair and makeup appointments,clinging to the hopes we have for the night andfighting back the fear that something might notgo as perfectly as we’ve imagined in our minds.

It isn’t until Lacy enters the room for thefirst time in her dress that it all becomes very

first time in her dress that it all becomes very

real to me. She has chosen a bright pinkprincess dress that is strapless and short. Thestrapless top is embellished with so many stonesthat it looks like stars against a night sky andthe flowing tool bottom is separated from thetop by a strip of fabric and a beautiful silverflower on the front. As she moves from mybathroom into my bedroom, beauty falls aroundher. To see her in this gown is to witness thebirth of a flower in early spring and her eyes arealive with the wonder of it all.

I hold my breath, out of fear that saying aword would ruin the majesty of the moment. Asmile cracks across her face. She raises oneeyebrow and says, “That good, huh?” I gigglewith her and spent a few minutes trying to makeher feel as beautiful as she looks. It dawns onme, slowly, why Diana has become so obsessedwith clothing. I have always attributed her lovefor fashion as shallow and materialistic; atestament to the fact that she cared for nothingmore than the face value of things.

As I watched Lacy twirling around in myroom, I understand the power that a great outfitholds for the woman wearing it. We don’t adornourselves with clothing, makeup and jewelry sothat men will stand in awe of us any more thanthe rainbow appears simply to be gawked at. We

the rainbow appears simply to be gawked at. We

do it because of the confidence we feel whenwe shine brighter than the stars. Although Iknow Lacy doesn’t need anyt more validationfrom me than she can gain from the mirror, Idote on her. She revels in it and I open myselfup to her, allowing her confidence to climbinside me. In this moment, I am proud of thesubtle differences that set me apart from everyother human in the world. I am glad to be anempath.

After a moment, it is my turn to step insidethe bathroom and put on my dress. I avoid themirror until I step outside the room and hearLacy respond to my entrance with a soft gasp. Isee tears welling in her eyes and I realize thatshe is experiencing the same awe toward mybeauty as I felt toward hers. I move into theview of the mirror and with Lacy behind me, Icling to the confidence I had stored earlier. Iopen my eyes and look at myself for the firsttime.

My dress was similar to Lacy’s as it is shortand has the same sweetheart neckline but it’snude color stands in contrast to her bright pink.While it is embelished, the rhinestones on mydress are fewer than hers. It is belted with asimple strip of heavy silver stones. Lacy’s hairfalls around her shoulders in big curls while

falls around her shoulders in big curls while

mine is wrapped tightly into a bun on the sideof my hair and only a few soft curls kiss theside of my face.

Tonight, we are equally beautiful but in verydissimilar ways. Her classic beauty, in contrastto my artsy elegance made us a pair. AlthoughI’m sure that every other girl at the dance willfeel the same, I’m convinced that we will be thebrightest stars in the sky tonight. Lacy mustsense my sentiment because she spins mearound and gushes.

“We look A-mazing!” I giggle and agree.With that, we rush to her box to try onaccessories.

Lacy looks through the selections withexcitement. “I have the perfect silver banglebracelet that will work for you…and for me…”she looks in her box for a moment beforepulling out bracelet of her own. The wires of thebracelet intertwine and hold pink crystals on theend. As she puts it on, my mind flashes back toCai’s description of the great tree of life. For amoment, my mind is with him and I wonderwhat he would think if he saw me like this.

I don’t allow myself to consider it furtherand force myself to focus on the immediate,

and force myself to focus on the immediate,

rather than the past. Lacy has chosen to fore-goa necklace but is busy looking for one that willmatch my dress perfectly when a knock at thedoor grabs our attention. It isn’t Diana’s hard,forceful knock but my dad’s soft, subtle one.

“It’s unlocked.” I greet him, engrossed incontinuing the search. He moves into the roomslowly and his eyes widen as they fall on me.They are the eyes of a father watching hisdaughter growing up suddenly and I realize thisis the first time he is seeing me as a woman,rather than the little girl he once knew. Pridebeams from him but it is subtle and hiddenbehind the walls he has built.

I stand to greet him with a hug and heextends a box to me. I tug at the ribbon and liftthe top to see a single strand of pearls. I run afinger over the surface of the smooth pearls andan aching feeling flows from it into me. Myeyebrows crease, I stare into his eyes. Before hecan speak, I utter, “These were mom’s.”

Genuine surprise sneaks past his wall andblasts into me with full force. “Y…yes, theywere.” He stammered, “How did you know?”

Suddenly ashamed of my admission, Irecover, “Lucky guess?” He sighs a deep breath

recover, “Lucky guess?” He sighs a deep breath

of relief and offers to place the pearls on myneck. I gather myself and oblige his offer.

As he slips them around my neck, hewhispers so sweetly in my ear, “She felt sobeautiful when she wore these. They were hermom’s.” I categorize the thought in my mindand add it to the short list of things I knowabout my mom.

So, she had a mom, too I thoughtsarcastically. Looking at myself in the mirror,wearing her pearls, I find myself drawinginward. Wearing my mom’s pearls to a formalgown should be a joyful experience I remindmyself but she should be here to give them tome, herself. I sigh and fight back tears. On theedge of a breakdown, I am relieved when, amoment later, Cleary and Alecster beckon at thedoor. In this moment, I am able to cling to theexcitement surrounding collecting pictures andthe hope lurking on the horizon for us all.

The rest of the night flows by in an endlesssea of compliments and smiles. I cling to thelight around me as we file into the dance hall. Ispend the rest of the night, trying to avoid therolling tide of darkness generated by the pearlsand thoughts of my mother’s absence. Cleary isthe perfect date for the night because his

the perfect date for the night because his

childish wondering is still very much alive. Heis amazed by the beauty of the dance hall andthe beauty within me. When he gazes into myeyes, it’s as if he’s seeing me for the first timeand I revel in the feeling of it all.

Even Alecster manages to be a perfectgentleman and he and Lacy quickly become thetalk of the dance. Somehow, their differencesaren’t as separating as they once seemed to be.When he takes her hand and leads her onto thedance floor, their auras intertwine. His edgessoften to greet her and she hardens the smallestbit. They seem to meld together into one single,solitary beam of light. The world slows aroundthem and I smile to think that Lacy has foundsomething true and rare. I watch as he kisses hersoftly and realize that they are two souls on theedge of love. The beauty of it startles me and asingle tear rolls down my cheek.

The night stretches on and it’s very latewhen Alecster and Cleary drop us off at myhouse. Lacy bids me farewell with a promise tocall and recount the night first thing in themorning. I move quietly to my room, trying notto disturb my sleeping family and stand in frontof my bedroom mirror.

I am just about to change into my

I am just about to change into my

bedclothes when the latch on my windowcomes undone and the wind blows softly inaround me. I force myself toward the windowand I feel like I am being watched. Is it themoon? I wonder. Or is it Cai? I gaze into thesky for a moment, longing for a sign that it isn’tthe moon looking at my from beyond mywindow. Closing my eyes, I try to feel thevibrations in the air…nothing. I sigh and beginto close the window when a familiar voicequakes throughout me.

You looked beautiful, tonight.. With that, Iam alone again. A smile spreads across my faceand any lingering darkness that might have beenaround me dissipates. I close the window, takeoff my mother’s pearls and store them in thetrunk at the edge of my bed. I change clothesand melt slowly in between my blankets.Visions of dancing owls play out as my mindfalls into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Twenty SevenChapter Twenty Seven

ConfidenceConfidence

October 31, 2013

The fall formal had given me a glimpse intoCleary’s kind, childlike nature. In a world ofbrutish men, he was a dream. He looked at meand his eyes were alive with the wonder andbeauty of my soul. It had made me feel like awild and delicate flower, blooming for onlyhim. I fell into him that night and we have beena collective breath since.

Since that night, there has been astrangeness growing within Cleary. It’s as if I’mwatching the death of all the things I love abouthim. What is being reborn is an overzealousversion of himself. It manifested slowly and it

version of himself. It manifested slowly and it

was endearing at first, to watch his confidencegrow. I quite liked seeing him become moresure of himself and becoming more extroverted.It was even alluring for a while. He startedgoing to the gym more often and developed aninfinity for showing off his body.

Now, it seems as if it’s escalating intosomething fool-hearted and reckless. He hadused his new found confidence to step out ofAlecster’s shadow and make new friends.Alecster, Lacy and I stand on the outside ofCleary and his new friends as he recounts hisnewly acquired pick up lines. Some of them aregenuinely witty but most are crude or sexist andI am disgusted that these words are comingfrom his mouth.

The crowd breaks up in a roar of laughterand praise. A few of the girls in the group stareat him with starry eyes and he basks in theiradoration. I’m right here! I think as I watch thescene playing out in front of me. I fight back onmy anger and try to refrain from telling himexactly what I think about his pick up lineswhen Lacy looks in my direction. She isstanding directly to my left, her arm intertwinedin Alecster’s and for the first time tonight, I takestock of Alecster’s reactions.

His face is stone. His eyebrows are creasedand there is a notable amount of tension in hisjaw as he watches his best friend’s show. Notsure if this is the sign of jealousy or worry, Ichange my focus back to Lacy who is beggingfor my attention. Her face is playing out anarray of emotions; most notably, concern anddismay. I see the pleading in her eyes and knowinstantly that she feels uncomfortable and wantsto separate herself from this situation.

I nod in agreement and walk toward Clearywith trepidation. The conversation stops andtension arises as I approach my boyfriend. I feellike an intruder in the center of the circle whichis obviously reserved for Cleary alone. I leaninto him and whisper sweetly into his ear, “Ithink it’s time we head home.” He scoffs, givesme a kiss and bids me goodnight. He isobviously not ready to give up the attention heis getting and would rather me spend the rest ofthe night without him.

I turn and walk toward Lacy who lets go ofAlecster’s arm and intertwines it with mine. Thethree of us walk for a while, amid the roar andexcitement of Halloween festivities. We remainsilent until we are well out of ear shot and thelaughing voices of Cleary’s group have fadedinto the “trick or treats” around us.

We stop at the street corner and take a seaton a group of hay bales that the city has used todecorate the streets. We sit, silently, with ourthoughts until Lacy breaks the silence.

“What’s gotten into him?”

I look at her in agreement. “I wish I knew”In this moment, something tugs at me and tellsme that I should know. The word into crashesagainst a distant memory in my mind. Mythoughts turn dark as my memory rolls back tothe day he asked me to the fall formal. I hadpushed the smallest bit of confidence into him.Could this really be related to his sudden burstof cockiness? In this moment, I feel as if I’vepulled on a string that should never have beenpulled, thrusting Cleary into a direction that heshouldn’t be pulled in. My thoughts go back toCai’s warning about the effect my power couldhave on the fates of those around me.

Alecster responds with silence and as hestares blankly into the sky, Lacy continues,“No, really. Doesn’t he see how those jokeswere insulting to women? He should not beacting like that! It’s wrong. It’s rude! I can’tbelieve he would do this to you, Awen.” Shethinks about this for a moment, as she tries to

thinks about this for a moment, as she tries to

peer inside me. She knows I am suffering andwants to console me but there is no way for meto let her in. I am closed shut in this momentand trying desperately to recount the eventswhich have lead to Cleary’s demise.

“You know what, I’m going to go back thereand give him a piece of my mind!” She standsup and Alecster gently takes her arm.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” It is the firsttime he had spoken since Cleary’s new friendshad shown up and the harshness in his voicestartles me. I look deep down within him andsee the source of his conflict. Alecster had oncebeen a cocky, fool-hearted boy himself. Itwasn’t until that day, when I pushed him intothe road, that he saw the error in his attitude. Ina big way, Cleary McQuintock was part of theevent which had changed the trajectory ofAlecster’s life. Now, he knows he will have totry and do the same for Cleary.

Lacy and Alecster offer to walk me the restof the way home but I decline. I need a momentto be alone with my thoughts. I bid themfarewell and set alone, listening to the whispersin the wind. It speaks to me in singular words asif it’s hinting to something…

into, fate, trajectory

The significance of the chain of events arebegging for my attention. I am reminded howlimited I am in my ability to know things; tounderstand things on a larger level and all theunanswered questions that I have avoidedrecently flow through my mind like an endlesssea of wondering.

The answers to these questions are everelusive and seem farther from me than ever as Isit and stare at the Halloween moon. My soulkicks inside me and something primal isawakened. Cai and the shadow world seemcloser tonight than they ever have before. As thecold night air surrounds me, I reach out andgrasp the unseen.

I can almost touch it I think. I find thebrightest star in the sky, close my eyes andpretend it is Cai. I gather all the free energyinside me, fold it up tight ball and send ittoward him. I need you, Cai I feel a rip insideme as the thought becomes part of a collectiveconsciousness that was previously untouched bymy spirit. I feel it rising and the intent is heavyin the air before it separates and floats awayfrom me. It is an odd feeling and leaves metired. I slowly walk home, my head ready for a

tired. I slowly walk home, my head ready for a

deep night’s rest.

I lay in my bed, somewhere between thesleeping and waking worlds when I feel thefamiliar separation of my body and spirit.Delighted by it, I react and inadvertently forcemyself awake. I feel my spirit snapping backinto my body and disappointment floods mymind.

I might have been traveling to the spiritworld, I think. I allow myself to drift towardsleep again and will my spirit to travel. Neithersleep nor walking comes and by 3a.m., I amfrustrated and exhausted. I set up in my bed andstare out the window at the night sky,wondering if Cai heard my pleas for him earlier.My head begins to spin and the world aroundme fades into the background of my mind. I amawake, yet I am dreaming.

My mother appears before me. She is wispyand flowing; a spiritual rather than a physicalincarnation of herself. She motions for me tofollow her and I stretch my spirit toward her inresponse. I follow her as far as I can, until I feelthe tether between my spirit body and physical

the tether between my spirit body and physical

one growing thin. She stops and stares at me.

You must understand the past to unlock thefuture Her thoughts become words in my head.She waves her hand and the colorless spacearound us fades into a basement. A young girl iskneeling in prayer before a great, stone alter.Her long red curls kiss the back of her fadednightgown and I quickly place myself in time. Itappears to be the early 80’s; the girl issomewhere around 10 years old. She raises ablade in front of her…

anthame my mother’s spirit corrects.

She raises an anthame in front of her andbegins to chant. She points it in every direction,saying a different chant each time. Before shefinishes, the scene changes and we are now inthe middle of an antique store.

The same woman is standing in the middleof the room, chanting and waving a bundle ofherbs…

sage she corrects again.

…a bundle of sage around the room. Itappears to be early 90’s and the woman isapproximately my age. She is chanting again

approximately my age. She is chanting again

and the spirit matter around the room distills asshe does this.

Finally, we find ourselves around a greatbonfire. The young girl is now a woman and asshe turns in circles around the great fire, I cansee she’s pregnant. She turns and smiles a bigsmile in my direction…it’s my mother. Mybrain fumbles toward discovery as I feel thepull of the real world arching upon my dream.As I slip away from my mother, I grasp for herand she echoes one last thought into my mind.

This is how you were supposed to be raised.Define being cut off from view by interposingsomething

With that, she is gone and my reality isphysical again. I am not left with an aching painof the loss of my mother but alive with wonder.I move from the bed to the computer with hasteand use web search to do as she had said. I typein the words, define: cut off from view byinterposing something…the word occult popsoff the screen and into my mind with a jolt.

Was my mom a…witch? I wonder.Subsequent searches of anthame and sageconfirm this in my mind as I consider heradvice: You must understand the past to unlock

advice: You must understand the past to unlock

the future. A lot of things in my life could easilybe explained by the realization that my momwas somehow part of the occult. My feelings onthe matter are split between wonder andamazement and fear and condemnation. I havebeen taught my entire life that the occult is darkand mystical; something to be feared.

My mind reels with questions as I finallydrift to sleep. How can I make a leap intosomething so dangerous without heavyconsideration? Who do I know that would evenknow of such things?

Chapter Twenty EightChapter Twenty Eight

Goth KidGoth Kid

The tension in my physical body is one ofoutward shame. It is the kind of shame thatcomes from thinking about things that oneknows are forbidden. Internally, I delight in thethought of it. Outwardly, I cower behind walls,hoping no one ever discovers my secret. Isearch for information about the occult in secretand udder nothing of it to those around me. Theonly thing I have discovered about the occult sofar is that it’s too big to easily define.

I have rifled through collections of text andfound so many different branches of religionswhich deal with the occult. At first, I wasoverwhelmed and surprised that there were somany different types of faith unknown to me.After a while, the surprise fades but I am still

After a while, the surprise fades but I am still

very overwhelmed. I need something with adirect connection to my mother but I have noreal way of pairing down the choices. I havegrown hopelessly tired of the search and beganto take the dream at face value. Perhaps mymother’s message wasn’t so specific and literal.Perhaps I am simply looking for some truthwhich is obstructed. It does not necessarily needto be something of occult value…does it?

I ponder these things as I watch Clearyattempting his new favorite stunt; a handstandon the stair rails outside our school. I roll myeyes as his band of friends cheer him on. Thegroup can only be described as his “followers”at this point, and the group dynamic is growinginto something wholly unhealthy. I have growntired of telling him that these stunts aredangerous and pointless. Now, I just sit andwatch, hoping he doesn’t crack his head openon the concrete.

Lacy and Alecster join me under the treeand we begin to eat lunch silently. The tensionbetween Alecster and Cleary has grown veryobvious since Halloween night yet I admire hisdedication to his once best friend. He is now onthe outside of the group but he is ever watching.I think of Cai and a familiar ache for him riseswithin me.

Cleary is now standing in the middle of thestairs, giving what appears to be an acceptancespeech for some imaginary award he won bydoing the headstand. What is it, the mostdangerous and annoyingly cocky stunt award?Lacy notices the disgust on my face and guessesat my thoughts.

“Are you guys even dating anymore?” Iconsider her question and realize that I, too, amon the outside of Cleary these days. I don’tknow the answer to this question and tell her so.She is in the middle of her latest “what a jerk”rant when a scuffle between Cleary and someguy I’ve never seen catches my eye.

Cleary is yelling at the boy. Apparently, hehad knocked Cleary and interrupted his fakeacceptance speech. Stealing the spotlight is nottolerable to Cleary and so he has decided tothrow his frustrations at the unknown guy withfull force. This is not a good idea because he isbigger than Cleary by a few inches, broaderacross the shoulders and dressed solely in black.Even his fingernails are adorned with the colorand his dark black hair fell in his face.

His eyes burn a deep amber anger towardCleary. Expecting him to take a swing, Alecster

Cleary. Expecting him to take a swing, Alecster

stands and begins toward them. The goth kidsimply rolls his eyes, hoists his bag higher onhis shoulder and walks away from Cleary. Aslight flick of his wrist is unnoticeable toeveryone else but I recognize the shadowedenergy flowing from it and toward Cleary.Cleary follows after the guy and trips over thetiny ball of unseen matter, almost face plantingon the pavement.

This infuriates Cleary and he yellsprofanities at the guy, who simply keepswalking. A sly smile spreads across his face ashe walks by us and I study him. There issomething on the edges of him which bothdraws me in and repels me. His energy beingmade of shadow cannot be an indication ofanything good but the fact that he had openlyused magic intrigues me. Of course, nobody butme noticed it, but it was a signal that I need toget closer to him and figure out what he’s allabout.

I can see anger literally seething toward thetop of Cleary at the thought of his outburstbeing ignored but he compensates by boastingto his followers that “he would have killed theguy anyway” and Alecster returns to us. Irealize that Lacy’s eyes are locked on mine andI watch as a smile spreads across her face.

“He’s the new kid. ‘Came here from Ireland.He’s American, though. He’s kind of weird,don’t you think?” I nod toward her in falseagreement. The sounds of Cleary’s rants floatinto the middle of Lacy and I. “He’s exactlywhat you DON’T need to get over Cleary.”

This is true I consider and silence fallsbetween us once again. My mind is alive withthoughts of the new kid and as the bell rings, Irealize I hadn’t finished my lunch. Catching upwith Lacy, I ask her if she knows the new kid’sname.

“Cameron, I think.” She looks at me hard.“Seriously, don’t even think about it.” Her toneis serious and warning. I feel the feeling ofoutward shame and internal excitement risewithin me once again. I tuck it away with myother secrets and remind myself that a littleinvestigation into Cameron won’t hurt…I hope.

Cameron is in a few of my classes:philosophy and history. Mostly, he just sits inthe back of class and tries hard to not lookinterested. I see it as a ruse, though, and it onlyintrigues me further. He doesn’t talk to anybody

intrigues me further. He doesn’t talk to anybody

and rumors fly around the school about him.His dark appearance and seemingly inwardnature have earned him the label “goth kid” andthe hallway almost parts itself when he walksdown it. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want tomake contact with any of us and the rest of thestudent body is too kind to oblige this for him.

I, on the other hand, am dying to get closerto him and peer inside. I want to see beyond hisruse and discover his secrets. I want to knowwhat is hidden within him, despite the danger.

“You have enough danger in your life.”Lacy had remindes me when I divulge this toher. I know she is talking about Cleary andquickly change topic. I am tired of defendingCleary to her and trying to explain that he hasgotten better lately. He hasn’t, actually, but Ifeel guilty because I know that his change inbehavior is my fault. I know that she won’tunderstand my loyalty to him because I cannever tell her about my powers and what I haddone to him on that day, so long ago. So, I lie toher and stick to Cleary like glue. I amdetermined to dive into the occult and figure outa way to help him…to save him.

That conversation is a distant memory andLacy is skipping school to spend the day with

Lacy is skipping school to spend the day with

Alecster when I top the hill and head towardCameron, alone. Drowning out the worldaround him with headphones, he sits alone andreads every day at lunch. I, alone, become thewelcoming party for him but I harbor deepfeelings that this is a very unwelcome gesture.

I set beside him and he turns his eyestoward mine. I see everything and nothing in hisexpression and I realize that he might be theonly person here with more tightly guardedsecrets than my own. My mind races to react tohim and I realize that I haven’t thought thisthrough. After a long pause between us, hespeaks.

His voice is deep and seductive. Thesimplest, “hello” draws me in more than athousand words out of Cleary’s mouth. Panicplays out in my mind and I respond with astupid question.

“Why do you always wear black?” It isquick and fumbled and I must look like a pureidiot to him.

He looks at me with serious eyes and astone expression, “I’m in mourning.”

I know, instantly, that it’s a lie and my

I know, instantly, that it’s a lie and my

forehead creases at his response. “…of what?”

“Dublin. That’s where I came from.” Asmile spreads across his face and the tiniestchuckle emits from his throat. The expressionon his face is changed from stone toplayfulness. I soften for him and my nerves fadeinto soft laughter.

“It’s an act.” He says, seriously, after awhile. “I don’t like letting people in.” The truthfalls between us and I nod in genuineagreement. Not sure where to go with theconversation, a comfortable silence fallsbetween us. The best friends in the world arecomfortable with each other, even in silence, Ihad heard someone say once. I neverunderstood it until this moment and am trying tofigure out how I felt about the realization whenI feel the glare of Cleary’s eyes upon us fromacross the yard.

Cameron notices it, too. Nodding towardCleary, he asks, “Your boyfriend?” I nod as asense of shame waves through me. “Great.”With that, he is up and walking away. I am left,alone, with only the angry glare of Cleary’seyes to keep me company.

Later, I lie to him about my involvement

Later, I lie to him about my involvement

with the “goth kid”, citing a philosophyquestion for class as the reason I had to talk tohim. Cleary accepts the lie and in a raremoment of kindness, he kisses me on theforehead softly. It is in moments like this, whenthe old Cleary peeks at me from behind his overconfident demeanor that I feel the most atease…and the most guilty. My thoughts turntoward Cameron.

He might be the key to understanding mymistake and fixing Cleary I consider but withoutproof, I can’t allow myself to get too close tohim. I have felt a growing distrust toward thosearound me. Everything had been so perfect atthe Fall Formal. Now, I am watching as thehands of fate twist my world into a verydangerous and dark direction, again. It seems asif The Corruption is still at play in my life and Ifeel helpless against it. My only plan is to figureout how to reverse the effect I have had onCleary before it ruins him.

The feelings of distrust I feel are especiallyjustified toward Cameron. Every search I didinto “shadow energy” confirmed my suspicionthat I should approach with caution. He’s morethan that I think as I recall the glimmer of lightI had seen in his laughter today. The darkclothes and hard exterior may all be an act but

clothes and hard exterior may all be an act but

there is still something dark lurking within him.He is also mysterious and mystical and he mayjust be the answers to all my problems. Aseemingly magical soul showing up just as I ampondering the workings of the occult…seemstoo convenient to me. I argue with myself. Withthat, I turn off my light and drift into adreamless sleep.

Chapter Twenty NineChapter Twenty Nine

SyncronizationSyncronization

I’m beginning to understand how peoplebecome obsessed. I have been staring at theback of Cameron’s head for the past 20 minutes,trying to gather information about him. I readhis vibrations and feel nothing more thanlistlessness. His emotions are tied up into littleballs and tucked behind a carefully constructedwall. He wears a ruse of an uncaring nature anduses it to keep people at a distance. This hasonly intrigued me more and I want to crackopen his vault and stare at everything he ishiding.

Mr. Panchet is at the front of the room and Ifeel a wave of frustration flow from him,covering the entire class. It gets my attentionand for the first time this period, I realize that

and for the first time this period, I realize that

there things in the room, beyond Cameron’shead.

He raises his voice, startling severalstudents awake. “Yesterday, and the first part oftoday, we have been talking about the fall of theRoman Empire. Many of you have been asleepfor the entire discussion.” His eyes cast aburning glare in Cameron’s direction. “So, Ithink I want someone to tell me why this isimportant to everyone in this room.”

Nobody volunteers an answer

“You, Darkie Daine…” He points atCameron who is half asleep at his desk.Everyone turns to look at him, startling himawake. Mr. Panchet continues, “Thank you,Cameron, for joining us. Allow me to catch youup to the rest of the class. You were just aboutto explain to the rest of us how the fall of theRoman Empire is relevant to everyone in thisroom.”

He beings to speak but it is a quiet murmurand Mr. Panchet interrupts him, sternly, “Frontand Center” a hushed silence spreads around theroom as Cameron reluctantly stands up andmakes his way to the front of the class. Helooks nervous and implicated as he begins to

looks nervous and implicated as he begins to

speak in low tones. He is looking at his feet ashe begins to speak and I strain to take in everyword uttered from his lips.

“Our society is very similar to that of theRoman Empire. Understanding what causedtheir society to fall will help us see whenproblems arise in our own.” He raises his headand locks eyes with mine. I feel as if he’sspeaking directly to me now and a heat beginsto spread within me. “Everything that hasalready happened is somehow connected tosomething that will happen in the future. It’slike pulling strings on a ball of yarn. Any onestring could have an effect on any other stringon that ball.”

Mr. Panchet stares at Cameron with raisedeyebrows as he finishes and heads back to hisseat, avoiding further eye contact with me. Theteacher stands in front of the class, visiblygathering his thoughts before he says, “Thanks,Cameron. That was very lovely put. You shouldbe more involved with class, I really think youhave a lot to contribute to our discussions here.”With that, a thought clicks in Mr. Panchet’shead and he is filled with a hopeful ray of light.

“Okay, so this is what we’re going to do.I’m going to pair you up in groups of two and

I’m going to pair you up in groups of two and

we’re going to create an environment of opendialog. Each group will complete a projectexplaining how ancient society has impactedlife today. In one week, you will present yourfindings to the class as a team…this will be abig part of your term grade!” He quickly beginsto set up a lottery and randomly pull names forpairs.

I wait, hopefully, as the pairs are called.Cai’s words regarding synchronizing of eventsthat are the ordained by fate plays through myhead as I am paired with Cleary, instead ofCameron. Cleary is giving me a thumbs upgesture from across the room and for a moment,I see a glimmer of kindness in his eyes. I smilein delight toward him but the glimmerdisappears as he mouths the words, “It’s all youbabe” and shoots me with a ‘hand gun gesture’.I roll my eyes, feeling a bit used anddisappointed when Mr. Panchet begins to pairthe last group.

“Noah’s partner will be Cam…” Out of thecorner of my eye, I notice the slight movementof Cameron’s hands under his desk. Mr. Panchetrubs his eyes and glances quickly from thepaper to Cameron and back again. He face turnsa pale white and he places his hand on his chestas he corrected himself. “Ahem, I’m sorry. I’ve

as he corrected himself. “Ahem, I’m sorry. I’ve

made a mistake. It looks like Noah and Jessicawill be paired, leaving Cameron as the odd guyout.”

He takes a deep breath and locks eyes withCameron. “Which group is going to volunteer toaccept Cameron as a member?”

Again, Nobody volunteers.

I shoot Cleary a pleading look and hereturns it with daggers. I see Cameron glancingin my direction and I realize that every momenthe is left unclaimed only solidifies his feelingsof being an outcast. I break eye contact andstand up to volunteer.

“Mr. Panchet, I would like it if Cameron couldjoin our group.” Protest plays out on Cleary’sface but Mr. Panchet is relieved by the notion.His world is spinning and he nods his head inacknowledgment as he sits down in his chair. Iread his vibrations and realize that he is a manbetween two worlds. Logic tells him that hiseyes were playing tricks on him yet a smallerpart screams within him that the name on thepaper had actually changed before his eyes.With that, the bell rings and Cameron shoots mea silent “Thank You.”, “before sleeking out theback door of the class unnoticed.

I move through the bodies in the hallway,trying to escape to my next class before Clearycatches up to me. I feel the heat of his anger onmy back and I know that I have failed,miserably. He is moving down the hall like afreight train and instead of running, I decide toface him in confrontation. I plant my feet firmlyand make direct eye contact with him. It is alook of stone and as he approaches me, mypower seems to slow him and diffuse his anger.

Before he can speak, I toughen my voiceand confront him head on, “This is not going tobe an issue, Cleary McQuintock.” My voicewas hard and strong and everyone around usestops in response to it. He raises his eyebrowsand begins to protest but I cut him off. “Youheard how he answered that question about theRoman Empire. I know I don’t have to explainmy reasons for doing it to you. I don’t care howyou feel about it because we both know you’renot planning on doing any of the work anyway.At least I wont have to do it all alone this way.”

I can see the anger building inside of hisbrain yet he has no words to fight back. Westand silent for a while and the gawkingobservers around us begin to move again. Hisonly response is a muted “Whatever” as he

only response is a muted “Whatever” as he

brushes past me and onto his next class. I feelalive and powerful in this moment and as I turnto walk forward, I notice Cameron leaningagainst a locker a little way down the hallway.He nods in adoration of my power as I walkpast and my body blushes at the notion of it. Hehas seen me for more than I appear to be and Iknow I’m going to have to work harder toremain hidden from him in the future.

Chapter ThirtyChapter Thirty

NovemberNovember

November 20, 2013

The moon outside my window glows as thecold wind blows stiffly against the naked trees.I feel the pull of energy in the world around megrowing stronger and death smiles at me frombeyond the tree. I smile back at it and sense afamiliar shadow creeping on my lawn. Theessence of it rises to greet me and I know Cai iswatching me.

This has been happening a lot more oftenlately and as I sit and gaze out my window, Iwonder what his inability to truly move onsignifies about our relationship. I find myselfaching to be near him sometimes after the sunsets and I spend the night, sleepless, recalling

sets and I spend the night, sleepless, recalling

our time together in the shadow world. I wonderif he is stuck somewhere between worlds as heawaits my meeting with destiny and if himbeing outside my window signifies anything.

I decide to separate myself from mythoughts and walk to my desk to prepare roomfor tonight’s visitors. Mr. Panchet had taken aweek’s vacation after pairing us into groups.The substitute was left without lesson plans andso we spent the week pretending like the projectdidn’t exist. Upon his return, Mr. Panchet hadhanded out a schedule of presentations whichallowed for the groups to present over a periodof two weeks. The earliest groups on the list hadreacted in panic as they knew they would haveto pull an all night session preparing for thepresentation.

The weeks have almost passed and only thelast few groups, ours included, still had topresent. I am particularly bummed about beinglast to present because I hadn’t planned onattending school on the Friday beforeThanksgiving break. Traditionally, Diana and Ihad spent the day in the city, shopping on theFriday before Thanksgiving. We have alwaysforegone Black Friday shopping for thistradition, because the crowds are slightlythinner and we usually find equivalent deals.

This year, she will go alone and I will givethe presentation before signing myself out andmeeting her in the city. I suppose that we don’treally recognize the importance of tradition inour lives until it’s interrupted. I spent a momentin reflection about mine and Diana’srelationship and just as I have concluded thatone actually existed, the doorbell rings.

I hold my breath as I walk down the stairstoward the front door. Before I have time toguess which one of the guys has arrived first, Ihear mumbled voices at the door. Great, it’sboth of them, I think and with a sigh, I open thedoor to greet them. My mind spins in quickcomparison of Cleary and Cameron as theystand before me, side by side. Cleary is pale andthin compared to Cameron’s dark presence.While Cleary’s smile shines as brightly as thenight sky, Cameron’s eyes beg to invitemystical secrets into my world.

Their energies greet me as two completelypolar opposites and it takes me by surprise. It isas if the forces of light and dark have come tovisit but I am not really sure which one iswhich. As I welcome them in my home, theycompete to be the first to take my hand. Thiscompetition is more annoying than flattering

competition is more annoying than flattering

and I offer my hand to neither before headingup to my room silently. Defeated, they followboth in step and silence.

Once the door to my room shuts, the arguingbegins. We have met 3 days this week andhaven’t gotten anywhere. Every idea thatCameron presents, Cleary shuts down. Notwanting to do any of the work himself, Clearyhasn’t presented any ideas of his own. It hasbecome clear that Cleary is only present at ourgroup meetings to chaperon and I have hadenough of it. I stand before them, begging themto listen to me but they keep arguing, instead.Finally, I raise my voice.

“ENOUGH!” Silence falls between them.They look to be a pair of children who are beingscolded by their mother as I begin to lay downthe law. “We have to present this project in 2days. I don’t know about you guys but I plan onattending college in the fall and I can’t allowmy grades to slip simply because you two meatheads can’t get along!”

Cleary’s eyes widen as Cameron peers at methrough eyes of wonder and adoration. In thismoment, I realize that my strength scaresCleary but delights Cameron. I revel in this fora moment before proceeding. “I have already

a moment before proceeding. “I have already

decided what I am doing for the project.” I setdown at my computer and bring up a Title Slidewhich reads “Christmas Then and Now”. I standback up and point at it. “Anyone with anobjection can leave now and show up Friday topresent.”

Cleary stands up, gathers his things andheads, angrily, toward the door. ExpectingCameron to do the same, I stare at him untilCleary is out the door and starting up his car. Ididn’t think that either of them would stay and Ihad only prepared the title slide. Feelingnervous and embarrassed, I take a deep breathand confirm.

“You’re not leaving, too?”

Cameron glares at me for a moment before asmile spreads across his face. “No, I think it’s agreat idea. I’m actually curious about whereyou are going with this.” He raises hiseyebrows in anticipation and I sigh toward him.I decide that honesty best serves the situationand admit to him that I hadn’t expected eitherof them to stay so I only made the title slide.

“Well…” He smiles a great, satisfied smileand takes out his cell phone to order pizza.Once he hangs up the phone, he continues

Once he hangs up the phone, he continues

speaking “…it’s going to be a long night.” Wemake small talk as we wait for the pizza toarrive and I learn about the world of Cameron.His dad is an architect and his mom is an artist.The family moves around a lot and I fill myselfup with his words as he describes the differentplaces he’s been, from France to Iraq. I realizethat moving around so much has been difficultfor him and this is probably the reason heprefers to keep a distance from people. It’s ashame because there is an elegance about himthat is rare and captivating. I attribute this to thefact that he’s a writer and listen carefully as hereads me some poetry from the journal he keepsstashed in his bag.

Finally he admits that his dad is working ona building project in the city. “It’s supposed tobe as big a big deal; something about the designhas caught the eye of local media. It will befinished in June and my parents will be on tothe next city. By then, I will be 18 and I plan onstaying here and attending Harvard forjournalism.”

I find myself smiling at him too much and Iam relieved when the doorbell rings and he goesdownstairs to pay for and bring up the pizza. Inhis absence, I gather myself up and put on aruse. It is a ruse which says “I am very serious

ruse. It is a ruse which says “I am very serious

about completing this project. I do not havetime for small talk.” Behind the ruse, however,is a girl who wants to know as much as she canabout a boy; a girl who wants to spend the restof her life basking in his elegance. Hopefully,he will never see beyond the ruse. I don’t needto invite any more trouble into my life.

Chapter Thirty OneChapter Thirty One

BreakupBreakup

Things between Cleary and I changed afterthe group project. His moments of tendernessfaded and we began to distance ourselves fromeach other. By the end of Thanksgiving break,we had barely spoken. We had become twoparts of one whole at the Fall Formal but nowwe stand more separate than we had ever been.It is a weird feeling; being torn into twoseparate pieces. I feel like part of my soul hasbeen left with him and I will never be wholeagain.

I wasn’t surprised when he had asked for abreak up. In fact, Cleary seemed more levelheaded than he had been since I watched themonster inside him take over. As we said ourgoodbyes, I sensed the weight of loss on him. I

goodbyes, I sensed the weight of loss on him. I

sensed his pain and regret but it was withoutanger and resentment. He did not hate mebecause we had grown apart or blame me forruing his live. Instead, he reacted with dignityand elegance.

I felt sad, not for the way things had turnedout but for the way they could have been. I hadpeered into his soul at the Fall Formal and seenthe most beautiful garden. I wanted to dancethere forever but instead, I smashed all thestatues and burned the flora to the ground. Iquickly realized that the sadness I was feelingwas mostly for myself. It was selfish of me tofeel sadness because without me, Cleary had achance at regaining some sort of normality.

Still, I was guilty because I know I hadstolen something valuable and rare from him. Iknow I had stolen his innocence. This guiltfostered a sense of responsibility in me forCleary. I felt responsible for his future and theways in which my irresponsible use of magickhad changed the course of his destiny. It wasthis responsibility that made me hang onto himfor a much longer period than I should have.

Now, I am excluded from his world and stillmy guilt propels me to cling to him. For the pastfew weeks, I have watched him closely. I expect

few weeks, I have watched him closely. I expect

his recklessness and cockiness to grow and Iwait for my consequences to catch up to him.Instead, he has gotten rid of his band offollowers and taken to rebuilding his dad’s hotrod. He and Alecster had even reconnected andit seems, after all, that I was the thing in his lifethat was bad for him.

A sense of closure grows within me as Iconsider these things. I am able to walk awayfrom the romantic relationship that we had butI’m still bound by my perceived responsibilityfor him. In this moment, I think of Cai and allthe people whose fate was his responsibility. Iwonder how he ever fully closes the door andmoves onto the next soul. As a familiar tug inthe wind propels me toward my destination, Ithink of how he is on the outside of my life nowwith nothing to do but watch and hope I’mmaking the right choices.

Chapter Thirty TwoChapter Thirty Two

Light in the MoonLight in the Moon

December 8, 2013

Things have really gotten muddled with thewhole Cleary break-up mess. I feeldisconnected and distracted from my mission tolearn about the occult. Now, as I head into thecity, I am alive with the excitement ofrekindling this flame and the possibilities ofmaking a connection with my mother’s pastflood me with light. The abstraction of thedream had grown into reality when I traced theantique shop from it to Salem. It appears to beunder the same management and so I havedecided to spend the day digging for mymother’s secrets.

I arrive at the antique shop just as it is

I arrive at the antique shop just as it is

opening from lunch. I walk inside with the wideeyes of discovery but learn quickly that theowner is out. I leave a message with the deskworker and walk around the shop. I feelstrangely at home here. The familiarity of itlingers from the dream but somehow I feel mymother’s presence around me, and I becomecertain that she was a frequent visitor, here. Shewas maybe even a friend of the owner.

I find myself pulled from case to case in theshop. I have never before been surrounded byphysical objects that were so alive. I feel the joyof a little girl as I hold an antique doll in myhands and the love of an old couple as I run myfingers across a brass candle lamp. ThroughCleary, I have learned that we leave pieces ofourselves within the people we love. I neverconsidered the thought that we did the samewith the objects that we love, as well. As I feelthe history of the owners rising from everythingI touch, I realize what a treasury this antiqueshop is.

I had learned, after my dream, that witchesused sage for cleansing negative energy andkeeping bad spirits away. I understand, now,why this shop would require this service often. Iwonder how many times my mother has walkedthese floors and touched these display cases.

these floors and touched these display cases.

Surely, a lot has changed since she last visitedbut my mind becomes filled with thoughts ofher as I browse the selections. As I focus on her,I feel myself being pulled around the shop.Finally, in the back corner of the shop, I find adusty case full of books.

The case is alive with energy as the bookscompete for my attention. Most of the selectionis of handwritten books and I find myself alivewith the possibility that many of these booksare singular copies. My hand brushes over eachbook spine and I delight in the energy that lieswithin each one. I feel my hand slowing and itcomes to a halt on the spine of one of theprinted books on the shelf. I pull it out slowly todiscover that it is a series of articles aboutwitchery throughout history. A sense offamiliarity flows through me but I do notrecognize any of the author’s names. I am onmy way to the front with it when the jingle bellsof the front door alert me to the fact that I amno longer the singular shopper in the store.

I make my way to the counter and hand thebook over to the sales clerk, sheepishly. Shesmiles a bright smile.

“A lover of books, huh?” It is said in such amanner which also means that she identifies

manner which also means that she identifies

with me. I take a guess and consider that she isa reader, not a writer and smile at herwordlessly for I am neither. “This book is veryspecial to the owner. All the authors are localand she knows them personally. It’s not that old.It was probably printed in the early 90’s but shealways keeps a copy of it in stock, just in casesomebody comes by and wants one.” She seemspleased with her helpfulness but it’s not reallythe information I am looking for.

Fully aware that we are being listened to, Ionly respond with a requisite acknowledgment.I then take the paper bag that holds theunknown novel and head toward the door of theshop. I feel loss at the connection I felt with thethings in the shop and promise myself to returnsoon. As I walk down the street, clinging to mypurchase, I feel a familiar energy on my back.

I turn, expecting to greet the wind. Instead,it is Cameron and he is lugging a large boxclumsily toward me. The smile on his face iswarmer than the midday sun and I barely noticehis struggle with the weight of his package.

“Hey.” He says with heavy breath. We stopon the sidewalk and things grow awkward as hesets his box down against a building and thensets himself on top of the box. “Sorry but this

sets himself on top of the box. “Sorry but this

thing is really heavy.” He motions toward thebox beneath him.

I laugh at his awkwardness and join him insetting against the building, although I chose toset on the concrete, rather than my book. “Well,what is in the box?” I have to ask.

“Oh, it’s an old type writer. Sometimes, Ifeel nostalgic and use them to write. It’s crazy, Iknow.”

I shrug, not sure of a good response for this.It certainly isn’t crazy but it’s really not normalfor a teenage boy in this time period, either.“It’s not crazy that you write on a typewriter. Itmight be a little crazy that you are carrying itdown a city street in the middle of the day,though.” He looks surprised at my honesty.“Hey, I’m just saying…”

He laughs at my sudden seriousness as heslaps me on the back. “I just bought it from theantique shop. I would be in my car, drivingdown the street with it but I don’t actually haveone. I’m headed for the bust stop now.”

My eyebrows crease as I try to reconcilehim not owning a car. “You’re not toting thatthing on a bus and then walking from the last

thing on a bus and then walking from the last

stop to your house with it. C’mon, you can rideback into town with me.” With that, we arewalking again and he loads the typewriter intomy car. We decide to get a bite to eat in the citybefore heading home.

For a moment, I consider that a little moretime in Salem might be valuable to my searchand that Cameron is a good distraction from thereasons I came here in the first place. Cameronis great company and he fills the silence in thecar with his jokes and generous laughter. Beforelong, I reconcile that he might be just anotherdistraction but he’s a pleasant one. He is alsouseful and I allow myself to lean into spendingthe day with him. Silently, I promise myself thatI will make the best of this opportunity.

We linger at the restaurant and around townuntil nearly dusk before conceding and headinghome. I find it so easy to be relaxed when I’maround Cameron. I allow him easy access toeverything human about myself. Still, Icarefully tend my inner boxes and construct awall between him and any given indication thatI am anything more than human. I need him tothink I am naive so that he might offerinformation that is useful to me, freely.

As the lights of my car light the path in

As the lights of my car light the path in

front of us, I become aware that I haven’t beensuccessful in guiding the conversation towardthe occult. Every attempt I have made has beenblocked by his own tending of his inner boxes.We play this game of send and return until therows of houses begin to signify that the city isfar behind us. With my window down, the windblows playfully at my hair and an idea sparkswithin me. I turn sharply left and head for thepark, instead of our homes. He responds withdelight as I park the car and we trade theconcrete pavement for the soft, green grass.

The stars in the sky light a path to the top ofthe hill. Like children, we follow it and findourselves sitting under a great tree. Thevibrations of the roots warm the ground as weset down. The cold breeze blows gently, tossingmy hair and the moon beams dance off the darkblack streaks of hair in his eyes. Like the moon,he is dark and mysterious but as the edges ofhim bend toward me, I see a childishplayfulness alive in his eyes.

“It’s a beautiful night.” He smiles and I feelas if the compliment is aimed at me, rather thanthe night sky. I nod in shy agreement and stareat the blades of grass dancing between us.

I feel a bending of nature toward us. It’s one

I feel a bending of nature toward us. It’s one

of those nights when it feels like the forces ofnature are part of the human experience. At thismoment, the moon and stars are playing toCameron’s mystery and creating an emotionalatmosphere between us. I consider the historyof the tree for a moment and picture all thelovers, old and new, who have set under thebows of it making vows of romance. I wonderedif the tree resents humans for this or if itdelights in it.

Cameron is watching me as the notion ticksthrough my head. There is always somethingdancing on the corners of his eyes which makesme feel as if he is the answer to every problem Icould ever have in this life. He smiles a halfsmile at me. It is a mixture of his light and darkaspects and it creates a great longing within mefor him. It tells me that something mysticallived within him and I want to climb inside andtake a look around. I want to know his past, hispresent and his future. I want to share in hissecrets and see the universe exactly as he does.

“The world around us seems so alivetonight, doesn’t it?” He says, staring into thenight sky. The wind dances around him, tryingto answer the question he had asked. It is saying“it is alive”. If he hears it whispering in his ear,he doesn’t seem to notice.

I am watching the wind trying to get hisattention when, undeterred by my silence, hepoints at the moon “It must be the full moon.”The brows above my eyes crease as I try tomake a connection between the full moon andthe playfulness of the wind.

“Fairies” It was spoken slow but certain andhe made full eye contact with me as the wordsdance off his lips. It is as if he is pulling atsomething inside me that is known, rather thanpresenting a new idea. He stares at me for amoment, waiting for confusion to turn intorealization. When this doesn’t happen, he raiseshis own eyebrows and says, “Really? You don’tknow about fairies?”

I laugh. “Well, yeah, I know what fairiesare. I’ve watched all the cartoons about them. Ithink I actually wanted to be one when I wasyounger. It’s just that I learned a long time agoto separate fiction and reality.”

He tilts his head to the side and squints hiseyes in my direction. I feel as if he doesn’tbelieve me and realize in that moment that heknows I am lying. “There is always reality infiction.” He almost scoffs at the word fictionand guilt rolls through me. I feel as if I have

and guilt rolls through me. I feel as if I have

insulted something that is very sacred to him.He shrugs it off, reclaimed his smile and beginsto spin a story for me.

“A long time ago, Victorian Imperialismmoved in on the British Isles. The people wholived there were the Scottish, Welsh, Germanic,and Irish people. They were simple people whothought more in terms of communing with theland than in owning it. When the Britishgovernment moved in, they claimed the land astheir own and the peoples native to the landwere dispossessed. It is said that these peopleretreated into the wilderness around the landthat they had tended their entire lives. As theydid this, they grew smaller and smaller. Beforethe invasion, they were the Tuatha de Danann,people of the goddess Dana, but afterword, theywere forgotten. It is believed that Dana grantedthem special powers and helped them hidewithin the trees and rivers of her land. They hadhonored her in their villages and so she honoredthem after the invasion. Throughout the historyof the Celtic people, legends of the fairies intheir various forms were cast. Actually,brownies, pixies and elves all originated fromfaerie lore and the Celtic people attributed thechanging of seasons and the workings of thenatural world to these hidden magical beings.Every blooming flower and budding tree is said

Every blooming flower and budding tree is said

to be the work of the faeries. The Celtic peoplebelieve that without the magic of the faeries, thenatural world would no longer hum in harmonywith the changing of the seasons. For thisreason, they revered the faerie people and gavethem offerings of fresh milk and built alters forthem in their gardens. Sometimes, the faerieswould mischievously bring misfortune upon thenatural world and it was said that the offeringsthat left weren’t sufficient. It is said that the veilis the thinnest between our world and themagical faerie world on the full moon and so itis believed that the faerie people come out ofhiding and dance in the glow of the fullestmoon.”

As he finishes, I feel a heavy sense ofmysticism in the air around us. My logical brainbecomes alive with wonder and I feel an ache topull back the veil of the world around me andpeer in at the creatures dancing around inside.He must be sensing this because he beams withpride. “I just thought that…well, with yourname and all…I thought your family was Druidor that you come from Celtic heritage.”

I don’t know how to answer this. A familiaraching for my mother and the need to knowreturns, tempting to drag me back into thedarkened haze which had existed before. I fight

darkened haze which had existed before. I fight

against it and create roots in Cameron’s eyes. Igather my thoughts and tell him the truth. “Mymom was an anthropologist. She died when Iwas born. I think she named me Awen byaccident.” I pause for a moment. The wordaccident seems shameful and I feel the need toexplain it better. “I really don’t know why shechose the name.” I shrugged.

I have taken a complicated truth andcommunicated it very simply. Part of it lieswithin the words I have spoken but it is theunspoken that tells the whole story. I allowmyself to communicate my pain about mymother’s death and my uncertainty about myname in action and feeling. I am not trying tocover it with a ruse, I am just allowing it to be.It hangs in the air between us and he clings tothe honesty of it.

“Nothing is an accident in this world,ma’am.” It is cocky and playful; a trueCameronism. “Anyway, it’s not about believingthat fairies actually exist. It’s about what thebelief in them tells us about the ancient Celticpeoples.” He sounded like an anthropologist,and I wonder for a moment if this is how mymom would talk to me about things. “They sawmystery in the universe. They didn’t havescience books and search engines like we do.

science books and search engines like we do.

They had to find some way to explain all thenatural phenomenon around them. It wasunknown to them and so it became sacred.Today, we learn why it rains in first grade. Oncethe mystery is gone, we begin to take it forgranted. We never ask why when the rain beginsto fall because our logical brains already know.We simply pull our raincoats closer around usand move forward” He seems saddened by thenotion of this. “At any rate, you must not feellike you know everything. There must besomething that is mysterious to even you.”

Smiling at the return of his playfulness, Ilean toward him, hitting his shoulder with mineand say, “As a matter of fact, I do.” I smiled aplayful smile, concealing my inner laughter andthen continue, “I find it mysterious how themajority of people at our school don’t knowwhat a dork you are.” It is playful and fun buthis face hardens at it. I see him slipping fromplayful to serious and I try to read the meaningbehind it.

“I’m serious. I’m being honest with you,Awen. I’m letting you see parts of myself that Iwouldn’t let anyone else see. Still, you’re soclosed to me. I want to know more about you.What do you see as mysterious in this world?”

He seems hurt by my inability to open up tohim. He doesn’t know about the boxes that Ikeep locked up within myself and I can’t lethim know my secrets. I want to trust him and lethim in. I want to confide in him about mypowers and how I hear whispers in the wind. Iwant to open up about everything that hashappened in my life but I know I can’t. I don’tknow if he was an honest friend or a lurkingagent of “The Corruption”. I can’t trust him…Ican’t trust anybody. I decide in that moment toand focus the conversation back on him.

“You are the only mysterious thing in myworld. You know so much more than anybodyelse I have ever met and you’re always inanticipation of me.” The last thought is taintedwith familiarity.

He lets out a deep, low laugh. Genuinedelight spreads across his face. In this moment,I realize he prides himself upon beingmysterious. “Now you’re calling me apsychic?”

I returned his genuine smile with my owndelight. “My logical brain can’t figure out howyou always know what people are going todo…or how you always know what I’mthinking.”

He laughed before looking me in the eyesand becoming very serious. “You know, being apsychic isn’t that mysterious.”

“Oh, really?” I lean back and act surprised.

“It’s not even about understanding thefuture. It’s about being slightly ahead ofeveryone around you. If you can see into thefuture, even for a second, you have moreknowledge than most. Most people are so selfinvolved and cling to the present or live in thepast. They are trying so desperately to keeptime from alluding them that they see the futureas mysterious or mystical. It’s true that the farfuture is ever-changing and out of reach. Theimmediate future, now that’s a different story!”He leans back, allowing the wind to roll throughhim. “I may not know what’s going to happenyears from now but I can construct a prettydetailed picture of how people will react. I cansee maybe five minutes into the future. Thatmakes me seem mysterious and mystical.People stand in awe of it because it’s more thanthey have. The truth is that anybody can do this.Anybody can learn to be a psychic.”

“Is that so?”

His playfulness returns and dances aroundhim. “Even you can learn how to see fiveminutes into the future.”

I shrug my shoulders at this notion andshoot a shy smile in his direction. “I doubtthat.”

“It’s true.” He rearranges his body, movingit closer to mine. “All I have to do is let you inon my secret.”

I smile playfully, tilt my head and replywith “Yeah, what’s that?”

“The secret is…” he leans closer to me,resting his lips very closely to my ear andwhispered, “I’m a wizard.”

The tension caused by his lips being soclose to my face is overriding any thoughtprocess that should have played out in my mind.My inner voice begged me to turn my head,allowing my lips to meet his but I fight the urge.I am not looking for romance, I’m looking foranswers. I remind myself. He pulls back andwaits for a reaction. Not knowing if he isserious or joking, I refuse to give him one. I juststare into his eyes. I must seem so simple to himI think as I grasp for a reaction to what he had

I think as I grasp for a reaction to what he had

said.

He laughs first. “You’re funny, Awen.”

I allow myself to soften and feel the edgesof my lip twisting upward as I respond, “Oh,I’m funny, huh? What exactly about me is funnynow?”

“You’re trying to figure out if I’m joking orserious. You don’t want to laugh at me if I’mbeing serious so you’re holding back. I think it’sfunny…I think it’s cute” His eyes lock mine fora moment.

“See, this is what I’m talking about!” I pullback from him and gave him a stern look. “Youknow what, it doesn’t matter if you’re joking. Ihave the right to make up my own mind aboutyou and I think you are psychic. I think you area wizard, Cameron and you will never convinceme otherwise.”

Together we laugh, ending it in a collectivesigh. His voice is the first to break the silence.“Maybe you’re right. I find other people’sreactions to me far more honest than the things Iknow about myself, anyway. This is true foryou, too Awen. I’m afraid I’m not the onlymysterious one here.”

I hide the flashes of fear in my eyes as Iwonder how much he truly knows about me. Ihave been so careful with him. There’s no wayhe knows any more of me than I’ve allowedhim. “I’m not mysterious…” I argue.

“You’re not logical, either.” His eyes arechallenging. “You’re an artist so you must seethings differently than most people. You believein things bigger than yourself, even if you don’twant to admit it to me. I see the way you stareinto the sky sometimes. You’re doing more thanjust looking at the clouds, you’re peeringbeyond them. You’re more than a looker, Awen,you’re a seer.”

I feel relieved that he doesn’t pry further. Hedoesn’t accuse me of causing accidents ormanipulating things around me. He doesn’timplicate me as a witch. I wonder for a momentif he is telling the truth about how he knowsthings that others don’t. It sure seems like he issimply reading into my human actions, ratherthan peering into my soul or gazing down thewinding path of my future. Still, I can’t be sureand as I try to figure him out, the alarm on myphone goes off, foretelling that curfew is on thehorizon.

We walk toward my house in silence. I havenever known anybody like Cameron and I feelguilty for using him. We have spent an entireevening without the distraction of modernconveniences. We have spoken of fairies andpsychics like it is very normal. It is heavyconversation but it had felt so light. The entireschool may categorize Cameron as “dark” and“mysterious” because they don’t understand histhoughts and actions. If I had to describeCameron with just one word, it would be“natural”.

Getting to know him, I feel like I’m carvingout a place in my heart for him. A place wherehe can exist without the prying convictions ofthose who don’t understand him. A place that hecan feel at home. Then, he can tell me all hissecrets. I will come to understand all the thingsthat set him apart from normal humans and Iwill make him feel appreciated for it. Peoplelike us had to do this for each other from time totime. We had to create homes within each otherbecause the rest of the world looks upon us withfear and condemnation.

He returns me to my front door and standsin awkward silence for a moment. “Thank you,Awen. Thank you for listening to me withoutjudgment. It’s been a long time since I met

judgment. It’s been a long time since I met

someone like you. You’re a fresher air thanmost people I meet. Don’t ever change.”

I am startled by his seriousness in thismoment. I love how a simple goodnight fromhim is filled with so much emotion. I feelvalidated and important in this moment. Notknowing how to return the sentiment withwords, I lean toward him and plant the simplestkiss on his cheek. With it, I push the smallest bitof light inside him. It was a piece of light that Ihave created just for him. It says, in return,“You are more special than you know and Ihope you never change.”

With that, he is gone and I am alone in myroom with only my memories to remind me ofthe night we just shared.

I should feel guilty about it. AlthoughCleary and I have broken up, I am still loyal tohim and I should feel like I’m betraying him byopening up to Cameron but I don’t. I care forCleary and I have a very strong humanconnection with him. Cameron, on the otherhand, is something more. He’s playing his roleas part of my divine mission. While myconnection with him is more intense, it is drivenby the need for information rather than honestconnection.

I can keep the two separated I tell myself. Itis more like I’m trying to convince myself thanI am actually believing it and I drift asleep withthoughts of Cameron in my mind.

Chapter Thirty ThreeChapter Thirty Three

The TypewriterThe Typewriter

I awaken from the previous night withCameron still heavily on my mind. I slept welland it was one of those rare sleeps whereproblems are sorted out in your head as youdream. I don’t particularly recall the dream butthe decision rings loud and clear within mybrain. I decide that I will open myself toCameron, completely. I will expose my powersto him and ask for his help outright. I feel guiltyin manipulating him and last night’s goodbyesonly solidify my trust in him.

I gather my things and head toward school,with excitement. As I pull into my parking spot,Cameron is setting under a tree. I feel almost asif he is waiting for me but this is impossible as Irarely drive my own car to school. He comes to

rarely drive my own car to school. He comes to

greet me and my confidence wavers. Althoughthe decision to be honest with him was alreadymade, I decide to wait for a more private time totell him my secrets. Meanwhile, my walls areintact and the tiny boxes inside me remainlocked and tucked away.

“I was hoping to see you, this morning.”

His greeting catches me off guard. Is itpossible that he has been thinking of my in hisdreams, as I have him? I consider as my cheeksbegin to blush. I feel awkward like a young girlwith a childish crush and as I stand before him,my mind struggles to find responding words.

He laughs at my awkwardness and theweirdness between us fades. Suddenly, weconnect as we had yesterday and the first time Italked to him. We connect like two souls whohave known each other for ages, rather than twopeople who do not fully know each other, yet.

“I left my typewriter in your car.” He saysafter the laughter between us fades.

“Oh, yeah! Your type writer. I forgot.” Alittle embarrassed about my childishness, I tryto work out the line between friendship andromantic chemistry between us. We stand

romantic chemistry between us. We stand

silently for a moment with the trunk of my caropened when Lacy, Alecster and Clearyapproach us.

“Hey.” Lacy flashes her most implicatingsmile in my direction. I never considered howbeing seen talking to Cameron would look tomy friends and the rest of the school. Cameronis still an outcast and a mystery to the entirestudent body, except myself. “What is that?”She points to the box in my trunk.

“Oh, that’s my typewriter.” Cameron repliesquickly.

Avoiding eye contact, I glace quickly atCleary. I see a notable amount of pain in hiseyes but he bites back on his anger with aclenched jaw. His already established distrustand dislike for Cameron grows as he considersthe meaning behind my interaction with him.Like the tiniest amount of confidence I hadgiven him months ago, this too, is threatening todestroy him.

Awkwardness sets in as Lacy eyes thetypewriter in the back of my car and then me.Somehow the presence of Cameron’sbelongings in my car imply that I have made aconnection with him that nobody else has been

connection with him that nobody else has been

able to. Before any more questions are cast,Cameron sets off to class. Just like that, theconnection between us fades and he is, again,an isolated part of the student body.

In his absence, the rest of us concede to thepleading bell and head to class also. As wewalk, I assess my friends’ reactions o theconnection between Cameron and I. Lacy’s isthat of complete wonder and excitement. I knowshe feels as if I’m flirting with danger but itseems as if the possibility of it thrills her. Iknow that she will get me alone later and beg tohear all his secrets. Apart from the fact that he iswitty and soft, rather than dark and mysterious,I have none to give her. Even if I have hissecrets, they are not mine to give and so Iwon’t. I wonder for a moment if she will bedisappointed in this.

I spend the rest of the school daymaintaining my innocence to Lacy. I enjoy herimplications of romance between Cameron andI and allow myself to wonder what it would belike to hold his hand. In my mind, this simplegesture would solidify a deeper connectionbetween us. We would be linked together and abridge to the spiritual world that I yearned for

bridge to the spiritual world that I yearned for

would be created. Then, I could simply walkacross it and into him where I would become asknowledgeable as he is. I could live inside himforever and, in return, he would never be anisolated part of a whole again.

In theory, the thought is perfect but thereality of making a deeper connection with himwill be much different. It will be difficult for meto be honest with him and allow him to seeinside me. I will be vulnerable and unsure as Imake admissions to him that no earthly soul hasever heard. I know he will understand mebecause I have seen him using his own powers.Because of this, I’m not worried about himjudging or persecuting me. I realize that I amworried about allowing myself to grow.

I have always kept myself so well tended. Ihave barely used my powers and understandlittle about how they actually work. Yet, I havereacted carelessly with the small amount ofpower that I do have. This leads me to wonderwhat I will do when my powers are amplifiedand controlled. I know, now, that I trustCameron but do I trust myself?

What’s more, I am learning that Cameron isthe single most elusive person I have ever met.After our morning meeting, he continues

After our morning meeting, he continues

through the day with an almost obvious air ofavoidance around him. All day, wherever I am,he is as far away as he can be. I have to wonderif this in response to my friends or myself.

So, as I wait beside my car at the end of theday, I find myself wondering if he iswithdrawing from me. Perhaps the implicationsfrom my friends this morning scared him away.I glance nervously at the school exit but he doesnot walk through the doors. The students comein waves and as the waves begin to thin inbodies and frequency, I give up hope that hewill meet me here.

The hopefulness that I have felt all daybegins to waver and I consider leaving. By thetime the parking lot is nearly empty, I resignand turn to close the trunk of my car. I feel hisenergy greet me before I hear his footsteps and Iturn to see Cameron walking gleefully towardme. His dark hair glows with the light of theearly evening sun and the smile on his facebeams from a place deep within him as hemakes his way toward my car.

I stuff away my hopelessness and a buddinganger, replace them with a smile, and greet himwith playfulness. “I was beginning towonder…”

He laughs at me and before I know it, weare driving toward my house. The mood in thecar is different than last night as we are bothlost in our thoughts. The drive is silent and I usethe time to work out a plan for revealing myselfto Cameron. Step one in the plan is to get himalone. My dad and Diana are away on a trip so Ioffer dinner at my house to complete this step.That is the easy part. Now, I have to decide howI will actually go about revealing my powers tohim and asking for his help.

My mind cannot form words thatcommunicate my secrets or answer anyquestions he might have. I consider simplyshowing him but I think of Cleary and decidethis might not be a good idea. I resign to makehim reveal himself to me before opening up tohim as we pull into my garage.

We set down our bags and I head to thestash of takeout menus by the fridge. “I can’teven boil water so we have to decide betweenpizza and Chinese food for dinner.” I offerapologetically.

He finds this amusing and offers to cookdinner himself. I entertain the idea, consideringhow cute he would look behind the stove. I pull

how cute he would look behind the stove. I pull

myself away from this thought with therealization that I will be demanding his fullattention tonight and insist on takeout. Wedecide on Chinese and go straight to workfiguring out an order.

After the necessary business is taken careof, we head to my room to await our delivery.The nervousness sets in and my legs feel heavyas we head to my room at the top of the stairs.My mind is alive with possible scenarios butwhen my bedroom door closes behind us, thestrangeness of the car ride is far behind us. I setcriss crossed on my bed and Cameron sets inmy computer chair directly in front of me. Helooks around my room and makes fun of mebecause I still have a stuffed animal on my bed.

I laugh with him and explain that it was mymother’s old toy. I hold it in my hands andsmell it. I have always imagined that it stillsmells like her and I take comfort in touchingsomething that she had once held. Suddenly, Iam reminded of the book I bought at the antiquestore and curiosity takes me over.

I open my chest and reach inward for thepaper bag but I do not feel the familiar energyof it as I do. For a moment, I ignore Cameron’spresence in the room. Frantically, I search the

presence in the room. Frantically, I search the

entire chest, tossing out items as I exclaim mywonder that the book is missing. I don’t stopuntil I reach the bottom of the chest and realizethat my efforts are fruitless.

Dismayed, I explain to him that I bought thebook yesterday and put it in my chest when Icame home. “I wanted to show it to you and seeif you knew anything about it. When I wasshopping, it called to me and I had to buy it. Ifelt an odd connection to the energy of it.” Justlike that, it rolled from me and into the open air.

Cameron’s response to my admission isn’tone of surprise or dismay but rather ofsatisfaction. A smile spread across his face aspondering takes the form of knowing in front ofme. His eyes become alive with delight as hespeaks. “Well, reading energy isn’t exactlylogical, is it, Awen Murdock?” He moves fromthe seat into the floor, in front of me. With hislegs crossed, he closes his eyes andconcentrates his thoughts. I watch in wonder asI try to figure out what he is doing.

Slowly, an energy in the air builds betweenus and it reaches to greet me. Words flowthrough the energy and crash into me. “Whatelse can you do?” It is less than a whisper in thequiet room but it rings loudly in my head. He

quiet room but it rings loudly in my head. He

opens his eyes and together we delight in thefeeling of being truly known.

I smile brightly at him before getting up andbeckoning him to the window. I open the latchand lean outside, sensing the wind as I do. Thelightest flurries wet the window seal and I takea deep breath, connect with them and pull themtoward me. The snowflakes swirl in thewindows and fall at our feet. I ask them todance for us and they oblige. They twirl aroundCameron and he delights in the feeling of it.When the cold air settles into my bones, I breakthe connection and close the window.

“I have never met anybody who can dothat” Cameron admits and I fetch a towel frommy bathroom to clean up the mess.

I am preoccupied by the way Cameron’scompliment fosters a sense of uniqueness withinme when another thought occurs to me. “So,you’ve met others who can do stuff like this?”

He raises his eyebrows when I say this.“Well, yes. A few. Haven’t you?”

I divert my eyes from him and avoid thequestion. I do not want him to know howinexperienced I am and I find myself drawing

inexperienced I am and I find myself drawing

inward again. The change in energy is notableas I do this and he reaches toward my chin,pulls my face upward and forces our eyes tomeet. The look in his eyes is one of affirmation.Without speaking a word, he tells me howspecial I am and begs me to never doubt myself.The tension between us warms as I study thefolds of his lips. For a moment, I wonder what itwould feel like to press my lips against his andturn the spiritual connection we have into aphysical one.

Before I act upon the impulse, the doorbellbeckons the message that our dinner has arrivedand we go downstairs to greet the delivery guy.The conversation between us is light as we eatour dinner. Cameron tells me that his mom anddad both study Druidry and that he has alwaysbeen open to the magical world. He recountssome of his experiences growing up in amagical home and I find myself wondering if Iwould have shared the same experiences, hadmy mom survived my birth.

Mostly, I nod because I don’t really haveany connection with the things he is talkingabout. I hang on every word and make specialnotes about some of the things he talks about.Not wanting to ask too many questions outright,I make a mental note to do a search on Druidry,

I make a mental note to do a search on Druidry,

later. The religious practices seem interesting…

“It’s not a religious practice, per say, it’smore of a philosophy.” He had been talkingabout a completely different topic when hespeaks those words and his acknowledgment ofmy personal thoughts startles me. He recognizesmy surprise immediately and chuckles. “It’s thetelepathy. I can speak to your mind or hear yourthoughts, depending on whether or not I push orpull.”

My eyes widen at the thought of this. Willmy thoughts never be private when I’m withCameron?

“Don’t worry.” He corrects. “Most of thetime, I can’t read your mind. You are very goodat building walls…we call this blocking. Mostpeople are unaware that people like us livearound them and so it never occurs to them toblock us out. That’s part of the reason that Iisolate myself from others. It can be a bitoverwhelming, at times, hearing the thoughts ofothers. It’s also how I knew that you were likeme.” He smiles at the grouping of he and Itogether. “I knew that you were guardingyourself from me but I still don’t know why…and I don’t know how you knew that I was likeyou.”

I manage to build a wall between us and cutoff his access to my thoughts before thememory of him throwing an energy ball atCleary pops into my mind. His eyes arepleading for an answer and I try to satisfy hisquestion with saying it was simply intuition. Heresponds with a look that lets me know he isn’tbuying my story and I resign. Slowly, I let downthe wall and connect with him. I replay thememory in my mind, for him and his eyes dartdownward out of shame.

I move close to him and re-enact his gesturetoward me earlier. I reach toward his chin, pullhis face upward and lock eyes with him. Withmy eyes I let him know that I will never judgehim. I let him know that I feel lucky to havemet him and communicate how much hisaffirmations mean to me. I remove my handfrom his chin but our eyes remain locked. Evenour energies calm and when he raises his handto my face, I feel his electric currents pullingme toward him. With his other hand on mywaist, he pulls me in and tilts his head towardme. We both close our eyes and allow our lipsto softly meet.

An explosion of energy surrounds us andalthough the moment is brief, a lifetime of

although the moment is brief, a lifetime of

touching my lips to his flashes through mymind. He pulls away quickly and retracts hisentire field of energy away from me. Panicplays out in his eyes and in a moment, he is asguarded as ever. For a moment, we were twoparts of one whole but just like that, it is goneand he was again an isolated being among me.

I did not allow my mind to gather reason forhis withdraw. Instead, I focus on what hadhappened when we kissed. Not knowing if itwas he or I who had gazed down our future’spath, I stand bewildered. We stand still for amoment. Wonderment dances throughout me ashe struggles with his own logic. Theawkwardness between us is distracting and Idecide there is only one thing to do about it. Icarefully guard myself and pull him close,again. I can feel he is guarded to but I don’tcare.

I lift my mouth to his and give him anothertender kiss. I feel the crashing in my brain asboth our walls crumble around us. The imagescome more quickly. This time, they are anindecipherable blur and I’m not even sure if thepeople in the pictures are us. Our second kisslasts longer and I sense that he is as resistant toending it as I am.

I am so immersed in the moment that I don’thear the front door open and before I know it,my dad and Diana are standing before us withimplicating gazes. I pull away from Cameronand stare at them with surprise. Their faces aredisproving and seem to say So, this is what youdo when we’re out of town. I sense a smallamount of amusement between them but I cannot be sure if it is coming from Diana or mydad. From the corner of my eye, I can seeCameron wince and I wonder if this is inresponse to the situation or the thoughts of myparents.

Cameron acts gentlemanly in this situationand introduces himself to my parents beforeoffering to help clean up from dinner andexcusing himself. He does not promise that wewill talk tomorrow but he forgets to mention thetype writer and I know I will have to plan togive it to him, later. It is the unsaid which letsme know that what we started today will befinished tomorrow and it fills me with hope.

In his absence, I am bombarded withquestions about Cameron by Diana. She asksabout his parents and I tell her what I know,which isn’t much. She moves on to inquire bouthis academic stance and activities. Again, myanswers are short and her disapproval of them is

answers are short and her disapproval of them is

obvious.

“Well, it surely seems like you don’t knowenough about this boy to bet letting him kissyou!” It is short and blunt but full of intention.Usually, I would agree. This is why Cameron isonly the second guy I have kissed. The first wasCleary.

What Diana doesn’t understand; the thing Iwill never be able to make her understand isthat the things about Cameron which make himthe most known to me cannot be explained. Ihave connected with Cameron in a deeper anmuch more real way than I ever have anyoneelse, including Diana. I allow her to voice herconcerns without outward protest but in mymind, I know I don’t need her approval. Fatehas brought us together, I am certain of it.Sadly, I trust fate more completely than I everwill Diana.

Even in all it’s uncertainty and cruelty, fateseems closer and more intimate than my ownparents. I have never before question mycloseness to them but as we stood here together,they seem as closed to me as I have alwaysbeen to them. After listening to their lectures, Iresign to my room with thoughts of fate,Cameron and my lost book swirling in my head.

Chapter Thirty FourChapter Thirty Four

December 21, 2013December 21, 2013

December 21, 2013

It has been almost two weeks sinceCameron and I shared our first, and last, kiss.Although I have been let into his world and amlearning of all things mystical from him, he stillguards himself carefully around me. There aremoments when we share energy and romantictension arises between us but he always pullsaway. He never explains his reservations to meand although I am frustrated by it, he alwayscompensates by teaching me somethingvaluable.

I have learned about the importance ofmeditation and through it, I have focused andincreased my abilities. I have identified each

increased my abilities. I have identified each

one as empathy (which allows me to readother’s emotions), psychometry (the reading ofenergy in objects), and Elemental (my ability tofocus the forces of nature). I am learning to readRunes and have a natural ability for divination,as well. I have learned about Celtic treeastrology, the Wheel of the Year, and havestarted studying the history of world religions. Ihave learned things which astound and enrichme in a way I never thought possible.

The thing that has surprised me the most isthe realization that the magickal world danceswithin the human world. I had worked for yearsto separate the human world from the magickalone so I was astounded to realize that the twoare more similar than I had ever imagined.Through understanding, I have easily seen theconnection between science, religion, natureand the mystical world of magick.

This understanding eases my guilt inlearning about the occult, as well as the feelingsof abnormality that I have fostered withinmyself for years. Unfortunately, it is not as easyto explain as it is to experience so I have tried tokeep it as secret as possible. Lacy attributes myabsence to a secret romantic relationship withCameron and I and she begs for details everytime we are alone (which isn’t often). Cleary

time we are alone (which isn’t often). Cleary

seethes with anger every time he sees Cameronand I together and we haven’t spoken muchrecently. My parents disapprove of Cameron, ingeneral, without me adding occultism to theirlist of dislikes about him.

So, Cameron and I are mostly alone in oursharing of these things. From time to time, hisparents invite wisdom upon us regardingspiritual matters but they are busy with theirown lives and so we move forward in ourdiscovery with only one another as a constantcompanion. Sometimes I imagine telling Dianaand my dad about these things things but Iforesee their reaction to it and decide to lock itin a box inside me when I am around them.

The journey into understanding myself hasbeen liberating and I delight in sharing my innerboxes with Cameron. Sometimes, when I lethim see inside me, I imagine a world withoutthe need for these little boxes. I imagine myselfbreaking the barriers between the magickal andhuman world, allowing people like Cameronand I to live without persecution. For a moment,the thought of standing on the building in apublic square flashes through my mind and Iwonder if this is my destiny. Perhaps I havebeen given these abilities and traveled this pathto expose myself to the world. My logical brain

to expose myself to the world. My logical brain

is working overtime as I lay under the tree,waiting for Cameron.

The tree stretches beyond itself and reachesto greet me. It pulls me in, piece by piece, untilI find myself in a foreign world. It is a world ofhidden things. I recall that night a while backwhen Cleary’s explanation of fairies made mewish I could peel back the layers of the physicalworld and peer inside their world. I stand inadmiration as I do just this and the faeries greetme with glee.

Delighted with the world of the fairies, Imove throughout their magical world, takingeverything in as I travel. Into the forest, myspirit roams and I am alive with magical spirit.In the distance, a playful light beckons me tofollow and I oblige. I feel myself drifting awayfrom the world of the fairies but curiosity winsout as the light grows brighter in my sight.When I get close enough to touch it, it evadesme and I hasten my pace. The forest growsdimmer as I chase the light, until it is the onlything that lights my way.

When the light disappears, I recognize mysurroundings to be that of the great dark forest.The shadows are the same, lurking danger that Iremember but the landscape is different. The

remember but the landscape is different. The

great tree on the hill seems more distant than ithas ever been and I don’t recognize the landaround me. Lost and bewildered, I realize mygreat shadow cloak is missing. I am exposed inthe darkness and my shining light casts abeacon upon me.

I concentrate on locking the brightest partsof myself up to reduce the size of it but I cannotcompletely hide my light. Scared and alone, Icall for Cai. My calls are returned by achingsilence and I realize that I am alone. In responseto the imminent danger surrounding me, I canthink of nothing to do but run. I set my sightson the great tree at the distant ends of the forestand run as fast as I can. I can hear the moaninghunger of the shadow beings on my back as Imake haste toward my sheltered place.

They close in on me and I turn to fightthem, defeating the weakest and evading therest. With my thoughts focused on safety, myspirit soars through the forest and quicklyleaves the hoard of beings behind me. The greattree is in sight now and I feel hope replacing thefear that had taken root inside me. The hopebuilds against my carefully constructed wall. Asit bursts through the cracks, my light shinesfrom me, darkening the shadows around me.

Almost to safety, I glance behind me toassess the danger in my wake. Fear flowsthroughout me when my eyes are cast on a new,mammoth, shadow being chasing me. It is abeing of woven shadows, like the one I facedbefore but it is larger and quicker. It is a greatdistance behind me but making stride quicklyand I know, instantly, that I will not be able tomake it to the great tree before it reaches me. Iplant my feet firmly and turn around to face it.

In response, it halts as well, and sends adeep mocking laugh through the vibrations ofthe world around us. Apparently, it is amusedby my tenacity and anticipates my next move.The being is somehow familiar to me, althoughI am sure that I have never encountered itbefore. My mind focuses on one singularshadow, just above where the being’s heartwould bend a memory of my mother, dying,flashes in my mind Another shadow gives mememories of Cleary’s demise. In an instant, Irealize the being is comprised, not of theshadow from this world but of my owndarkness. It is a being of my own creation and Iknow if I don’t act quickly, it will be mydemise.

I study the being as it studies me and in its

distraction, I pick up a nearby stick, infusing it

distraction, I pick up a nearby stick, infusing it

with my light. I focus on Cameron’s face, thetime I spent with the fairies prior to being ledinto the shadow world and the promise ofreturning Spring. I conjure a great ball ofenergy within myself and push it outward tocast a light throughout the stick. What grows isa great, glowing sword, larger than the tallesttree in the forest.

Encouraged by my ability, the shadow beingstrikes. Before I can think, he lunges into thesky toward me. I move out of the way, quickly,and his great fist comes to the ground besideme. The impact of it sends a huge quakethroughout the forest and I swing the great lightat him from the side. He is too quick to respondto my attacks and the blade makes contact withthe being, severing his mammoth calf. Theshadows retreat into the darkened night and thebeing turns his head toward me in surprise. Fora moment, we make eye contact and I see amoment of acknowledgment flash across hisface. He is deeming me a worthy adversary andI know what will come next will be moreintense than anything I have ever experienced inthe shadow world.

I move quickly and strike toward him frombehind. Before I can reach him, he calls theshadows around him and forms a great web

shadows around him and forms a great web

from them. He gathers the web and casts it atme. In dodging the web, I find the form of thesword slipping and my footing disturbed. In thesecond I take to regather myself, reform thesword and begin toward him again, he hascreated another web. Before I can react, the webis cast and this time it makes contact with myarm and pins me to a great tree.

A great mocking laughter builds within him.I have dropped the stick and fear flows throughme, hampering my ability to conjure the light. Ifight against the shadows and force my lightinto my pinned arm in an attempt to loosen thegrip that the web has on me. A hoard of shadowbeings have gathered around us but are kept atbay by the great shadow creature. He hasmarked me as his own and the other beingsoblige this out of fear. Still, they stand on theedge of us, watching as we battle.

The great shadow being lowers his head infocus. He calls the shadows cast by my fear tohim. Like maggots to a rotting corpse, they joinhis leg, rebuilding the calf that I had severed.He stands before me, taller and stronger than hewas before. Before I know it, he is in my facebut he does not devour. His mocking laughterrings throughout the land as I struggle and hetaunts.

“You dare attack me? You think you can dome any harm? There are more than enoughshadows here to regenerate.” He stretches outhis great arms in conquest, illustrating hiscommand of the world we are in. As he speaks,I focus my light inside me, creating a great ballof light. He sees this and laughs at the effort.“Your light is fleeting and will burn out in time.This is my world. On the shadows endure,here.”

The lesser shadow beings around us bow tohim, acknowledging him as a more supremebeing. He stands before me, looking out into theforest at them and basking in their admiration.In his distraction, I cast my free arm within himand send through him the ball of light I havebeen creating. The light flows through him andhis eyes meet mine. Astonishment andconfusion plays across his face. As the lightbursts from within, his shadow form dispels andhis moment of glory has become his undoing.

I send a second burst of light through thepinned arm, this time freeing myself, and fall tothe ground before me. The battle has takennearly everything that I have within me and Ilay on the ground, weak and disoriented. I hearthe moaning of the shadow beings around me as

the moaning of the shadow beings around me as

I struggle to my feet. My vision is blurred but Ican see them moving in on me from all angles.There is no moment for me to feel triumphantand I know that my destruction is at hand.

My astral body is severely weakened and Iclose my eyes to welcome destruction at thehands of the horde. It never comes and thesound of fluttering wings and a screechingvoice rings in my ears as the familiar tug of mybody leaving this world signifies that I ammaking haste for the next. Everything goesblack and I feel my soul climb back into mybody which is covered with cold, damp sweat. Iam under the tree and blurred vision reveals ahuman body over me, stroking my forehead.

I feel the soft caress of the winter air and

receive a heartfelt greeting from the tree but myvision is compromised. I cannot move my limbsor receive sensory information from the humanworld yet. I am slowly awakening withinmyself and panic sets in as I wait to feel thetingling in my limbs which signifies the battlehas left me unscathed. I lay under the tree andin the arms of the mystery human for whatseems like an eternity before the light of theworld becomes visible.

Slowly, I make out the face staring down atme and realize that it is Cameron. The crease onhis forehead signifies trouble and I try to askhim what is wrong but my voice fails me. I tryto raise my hand to his but the action cannot becompleted. Finally, I send him a look of panicfrom my eyes to his and he begins to speaksoftly to me.

“It’s okay, Awen,” he speaks to my mind.He sooths me and asks me not to move for amoment. He lifts something cold and damp tomy lips but the feeling of it against my skin isnumb. It is tasteless to my muted senses but Iingest it, anyway. Cameron explains that it isSchisandra herb and as I chew on it, I feel myphysical strength returning. He smiles into myeyes with his own as I begin to form back intomyself again.

Once I have regained my senses enough, heoffers his hand to me and I pull myself up to aseating position. Still unsteady, I lean againstthe tree for extra support. We set in silence for awhile and I meditate, as Cameron had taught meto. I use the energy of the tree and buddingSpring to replenish my own energy and tostrengthen my mind, body and spirit.

Once I feel complete, I unfocus my mindfrom the energy around me and allow theweight of events fall onto me. I use my logicalbrain to form a waking memory of the eventswhich transpired and asses them. As I do this,Cameron’s energy is focused on reading mymind and understanding the events himself. Hiseyes widen in fear as he watches the memoriesplay through my head. When my memory iscomplete, he pulls back from me. Questionscrash on the edges of my mind and I look toCameron for answers. Slowly, he begins toanswer my first question.

“The being that led you into the shadowrealm was a sprite. Kin to the faeries, they aremischievous creatures. They are usually prettyharmless and I don’t understand why it wouldlead you into harms way.” Once his answer iscomplete, he returns with a question of his own.“You never told me that you travel the realms,yet it seemed like you were familiar with theshadow realm. Have you traveled there before?”

I explain everything I can to him, startingwith how I traveled there for the first time whenI was 13. I explain to him how I usually wear acloak in the shadow realm, to hide my light andhow I had traveled there until late last year. Ifind myself guarded and hiding the events

find myself guarded and hiding the events

which truly led to the end of my travels but Igive him enough that he can understand thesituation. I tell him about Cai and the diviners.Leaving out details of using my powers onCleary, blacking out, and dreaming, I tell himhow I came to know that Cai had been watchingover me from birth. I explain the great tree oflife and the balance of it to him, as it wasexplained to me but I do not mention anythingabout my own destiny.

He senses that I am holding back butdoesn’t push for more information. Instead, helistens to my words carefully and for the firsttime, I feel like I am teaching him something. Irecount a few of the adventures I had in theshadow realm and he listens with wide eyes ofwonder. I even tell him about the first time Iwielded a sword of light, although I make sureto not mention that the second time I did this, Iplanned to kill Cai with it. When I finish withmy explanation, Cameron takes a moment toprocess the information I have offered him.

I feel confusion radiating from him and themood lightens as he chuckles slightly. I takeoffense to it and raise my eyebrows in response,causing him to explain, quickly. “You are sodifferent than anybody I have ever met, Awen.Most people study and work hard their entire

Most people study and work hard their entire

lives to wield the smallest amount of power.You, on the other hand, are the opposite.Everything you have has come to natural to youand you seem to never question its working.”He ponders this for a moment and the act ofconsideration is visible on his face. Anotherchuckle emits from him and he ads,humorously, “I’m actually surprised you arestill alive and in one piece.”

Actually, until I met you, I wasn’t in onepiece, I think and then admire Cameron for hisability to add light to any situation. Instead ofadmitting this out loud, I chuckle with him for amoment. The tension in the air decreases and hemoves closer to me, allowing our legs to softlytouch. He takes my hand and allows his eyes tomeet mine. In this moment, I feel as unique tohim as the rarest of gems and it fills me withlight.

His face turns serious and he repositionshimself in a manner which tells me that he plansto tell me something important. Now in front ofme with his legs crossed and the tips of hisfingers touching one another, he takes a deepbreath. “Because your abilities have come sonaturally to you, you seem to never questionthem. You traveled to the shadow realm for 4years, without questioning how or why it

years, without questioning how or why it

happened.”

My eyebrows crease as the thought stumblesinto my brain. I wonder for a moment why Inever questioned it and how my path might hadchanged if I had. “Well, things happen in lifeand people react to them, right? What gooddoes it do to question something after it hasalready happened?”

“It’s part of the discovery process. Inunderstanding why things happen, we then gainthe possibility to change them.”

“You mean, change our fates?”

“I don’t think we can actually change ourfate. I think things that are meant to happen,will. What we can do is be more prepared toface our fate when we get there.” He looks tome for understanding and once it registers onmy face, he moves on. “Theres only two waysto travel to the shadow realm. One happens witha person who travels the realms goes into asleep state with extremely low vibrations.”

“Low vibrations?”My mind blinks towardthe vibrations of the beings in the shadowrealm. Are my vibrations the same as theirs? Iwonder, shielding my thoughts from Cameron.

“Yes. Everything in the universe operatesoff vibrations. It is the vibrations of the treeswhich allow you to understand them and thevibrations of energy which allow both mytelepathy and your empathy to work. Highvibrations are caused by positive energy andlow vibrations by negative energy. When ahuman goes into a state of astral projection,they ride the currents to the different realms.Higher vibrations tend carry people to goodplaces while lower vibrations can carry a personto dark places, such as the shadow realm.”

“So, does this mean that I’m a generallynegative person?”

“No, I don’t think that at all. Light beingscan travel to dark worlds. This usually happensif the person goes to sleep in a bad mood. Thatis why most people who project meditate beforesleeping. It helps to restore yourself to apositive mood and center yourself beforetraveling so you don’t end up in the wrongplace.”

Confusion flows through me and I considerall the wanderers in the forest that Cai and I hadsaved. Slowly the pieces of advice click in myhead and I realize that by never searching for an

head and I realize that by never searching for an

explanation for my travels, I had failed tounderstand that I could have saved myself fromtraveling to the shadow world by meditatingand working on my vibrations.

Reading my mind, Cameron interrupts mythought process. “Not exactly. See, I’ve seeninside you and felt your energy. I don’t thinkyou were simply riding negative vibrations tothe shadow realm all those years. There isanother way that a person can end up in theshadow realm, you know?” He kicks thoughtsaround in his mind until he forms the bestmanner to explain them to me. “A person can bepulled into a realm by another being. Perhapsyou were being pulled into the shadow realm,instead of actually traveling there yourself.”

The possibility of it has occurred to mebefore and I find myself guarding secrets withCameron, again. My mind considers the lurkingthreat of the corruption in my life. Maybetraveling to the shadow realm was supposed tobe my undoing and was set in motion bywhoever is working to disrupt my fate. All thistime, I have thought of my travels to theshadow world as part of my fate when theymight actually be in opposition of it. I feel mybody weakening under the stress of the day andas dusk falls around us, Cameron and I simply

as dusk falls around us, Cameron and I simply

set in silent awe of the natural world.

Together, we watch as the sun hides behindthe earth and the moon’s glow begins its reignas the supreme source of light. My mind doesnot wander and as Cameron’s hand intertwineswith mine, I consider what my life would havebeen like if I had met him sooner. As thetwinkling stars begin to kiss the early night sky,I turn to Cameron and study his face. He isbreathtaking in the light of the moon and I fightthe urge to take his face in my hand and guidehis lips to mine. In my mind, I kiss him overand over and allow our two souls to becomeone. I do not shield my thoughts from him,bravely making my intentions known.

I feel conflict rising within him and sensethe construction of his own walls. I feel him, ashe slowly closes to me and the waves of hisenergy fail to reach me. Cold distance fallsbetween us and as he turns his eyes to mine,only a painful look of apology is given. It is anapology without explanation and I, too, drawwithin myself, hiding the full weight ofdisappointment, bearing down on me.

Without romantic thoughts as a distraction, Ithink about Cameron’s words for a moment. Ihave been searching for a way to help Cleary,

have been searching for a way to help Cleary,

which led me to find Cameron. I haven’tactually figured out anything useful for fixingmy mistake and in that moment, I accept that Iprobably never will.

I realize that the entire mess with Cleary hasdone little to serve my destiny, except bring meto Cameron. However, without Cameron, Iwould never have gained the knowledge that Ihave now. I marvel at the design of the world,both physical and beyond. As humans, wesomewhat understand the workings of the worldaround us. Fate, on the other hand, is an everelusive mystery and once we think weunderstand the windings of our own path, weare reminded just how much we don’tunderstand.

I begin to understand that I am now at acrossroads. The path before me is wild andunknown while the path behind me is filled withmystery and elusiveness. Do I move forward asI always have or allow the changing winds ofSpring to blow me in unknown directions? Thisis where my human ability to chose action kicksin and I stand on the edge of myself, ponderingthe weight of my own free will.

After I have regained my strength, Camerondrives me home in my car. He bids me

drives me home in my car. He bids me

goodnight and I am left alone with only mythoughts as companion. The Winter sun is goneand the moon hangs close to my window,guarding me from danger. My dad and Dianaare gone, again, and a quiet hush falls over myempty house. The silence hangs heavy in the airand my spirit and body become aware of theenergy in the house.

As the wind kisses the glass of my window,my body becomes aware of the vibrationsrunning through my room. I take a deep breathand open myself to them. Rolling through mysoul, they tell a story of transformation andrenewal. My mind races to make connectionsfrom the chaotic revivals in my life. Images ofmyself in early fall compared to myself todayclick through my head, pointing me towardmeaningful interpretation.

Physically, I am the same red haired, brighteyed girl that I was months ago but I am lesstattered around the edges. The darkness withinmy life had weighed on me and left me withbroken pieces that I locked away deep insidemyself. The only comfort I found in the worldwas obtained by wearing a ruse. I wassegmented from the world around me and foundno real connection with anything other than thedivine. Unable to define myself, I found myself

divine. Unable to define myself, I found myself

covering my complicated truths with simplelies. I was scared of my abilities…scared ofmyself and alone in my knowledge of themagical world. I found myself questioningeverything around me, from the death of mymother to my own ability to function amongstthe normal population.

I look at myself now, from the inside out.Today, Cameron implied that someone musthave been pulling me into the shadow worldbecause I was too light to travel there on myown. The memory of the being comprise of myown darkness flashes in my head and I shudderat the thought of it. I know that I have hiddenenough from Cameron that he does not have fullview of my soul, and I am left alone with thetruth.

I’m darker than he knows, I think and mymind flashes back to my own pondering aboutthe light bulb in my lamp, and realize that I wasso bent on covering myself with light that Iignored the darkness growing within and aroundme.

The brightest lights cast the darkestshadows, it is a slight whisper in the roomaround me but it aches with familiarity.Immediately, I know that Cai is with me in this

Immediately, I know that Cai is with me in this

moment and I send out my best light to greet hisshapeless form. I think, for a moment, about myteacher and dearest friend and an image of thegreat tree of life presents itself to me. Slowly,the word balance creeps through my mind and Iconsider how I have achieved balance in myown life through the chaos of the dark half ofthe year.

I had always seen the little boxes withinmyself as a mechanism of survival. I was soafraid that the world wouldn’t accept me that Inever accepted myself. Instead, I hid everythingthat was real about myself and paraded aroundin the world, pretending to be something that Iam not. I know the world is not ready to acceptsomeone like me, yet but the time is comingthat it will be. Until then, I feel relieved to haveCameron to be true with and look toward thefuture with expectations of growing darknessand beaming light.

I know now that being light and achievingbalance doesn’t come from filling yourself withlight to defeat the shadows. It is about knowingthat you are a being of both dark and light. It’sabout accepting yourself for everything that youare and making true connections with the worldaround you. I know my own balance requiresthat I open myself up and allow energy to flow

that I open myself up and allow energy to flow

through me, and I know that to maintainbalance in the future, I will have to exist inmultiple worlds at once. I can no longer trade aconnection with the human world for a divineone. I am both body and spirit; light and dark;human and inhuman.

Suddenly, the wind blows hard against mybedroom window and a burst of it flows into theroom. The changing winds of the solsticebecome a representation for the strugglebetween light and dark in this world. I knowthat there is an impeding darkness on the worldand that I will be an instrument of salvationagainst it. In he name of balance, I don’t allowmy fate to weigh me down. I don’t know if thehour of my destiny is upon me or if it will comemuch later in my life. I accept my humanlimitations and decide to ride the waves into thefuture, as if I am as unknowing as the rest ofhumanity.

From the edge of the room comes thelurking reminder of close danger and the needto pinpoint the source of corruption in myworld. I dismiss it, and try to focus on the hereand now. All the unanswered questions aboutmy past and future seem insignificant in thelight of the moon. The world outside mywindow is bright with festive lights, signifying

window is bright with festive lights, signifying

that Christmas is upon the world. I am alwaysamazed at the hope and joy that abounds thistime of the year because it comes at the pointwhen the world is the darkest. I watch as thetwinkling in the stars speaks to me. It appears tosignify that hope is born on this day, and I clingto it.

Right now, I am whole and I allow myselfto enjoy it. Tonight, I will drift to sleep withoutthe lurking danger of consuming shadows butwith time, darkness will try to overcome mylight, again. I will struggle to maintain mybalance but even in this struggle, I will wakewith the rising sun to move through anotherhalf cycle of the year.