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Chapter 5

Will she like me? What if she doesn’t like me?

Crash, the sound of metal screeching violates my ears, jolting me out of my thoughts. My body jerks forward, the sudden movement causing pain to run through my muscles, which scream in protest. Before I can recover, the force of something hitting the car again makes my body jolt to the side. Searing pain runs up my spine and into my neck. I cry out.

Breaking glass echoes loudly as my body is propelled to the side, colliding with Owen. Gripping my shoulders, he holds me in place as the car is hit a number of times, and each time my heartbeat doubles as panic takes my breath. My entire body shakes in fear and anticipation, waiting for the next hit.

The limousine speeds up, darting down the highway at an alarming rate, weaving in and out of cars and other traffic. I grip the seat tightly, squeezing my eyes shut. Owen places his hand over mine and gently squeezes. The act of comfort goes unnoticed, as fear fills every fibre of my being, followed by dread.

The limousine darts to the left, squeezing into the smallest gap ever, left by two large trucks. I scream a blood curdling scream that pierces my own eardrums.

The driver must be crazy or suicidal. Sitting in the backseat limits my view causing my fear to pick up.

My breathing becomes short and fast as I gasp for breath.

The few bits of sandwich I had recently eaten threaten to make a reappearance.

My heart beats quickly, the sound raging in my ears. My breaths short and shallow I am on the verge of hyperventilating.

How the car has managed to fit into that gap is anyone’s guess. The car continues speeding down the highway, my body constantly being thrown in every direction.

Swiftly, we leave the highway and come upon a dirt road, never losing speed. The road narrows with a sharp bend, trees whiz by at a fast pace, creating a blur of dark greens and browns.

After ten minutes we come upon large black iron gates with interlacing patterns of what look like symbols. The gates open slowly as we approach, the car creeps forward. I feel like ants or insects are crawling over my body, I begin to scratch and rub as a shiver runs down my spine.

I shudder. I hate spiders or any creepy crawly for that matter. The feeling vanishes as fast as it has come. I Look at Owen, who is sitting perfectly still, showing no signs of being affected.

I must be in shock

What the hell happened back there? I think to myself, afraid of the answers, but another part of me, the curious part wanted to know.

“Wh ... what happened, did someone crash into us?” I stutter, my voice shaky, mirroring my nerves, my heart still racing at the speed of light.

“Someone lost control of their car, a simple accident is all,” Owen answers without looking at me. “We are here, welcome home, Miss Grace.” Owen indicates to the window.


Breakfast is tense, the dream replaying in my head repeatedly. Not to mention my grandmother’s eyes following my every move.

My stomach is in knots, my nerves on overdrive. This woman makes me feel uncomfortable. Pushing my plate away, I peek up at her. Sure, enough her eyes lock onto mine, like she is looking into my soul, searching. With a shuddering sigh I look elsewhere.

“Follow me,” she instructs, getting up and walking towards the door. Blindly I follow her into the sitting room and a feeling of dread washes over me.

She takes a seat on the couch and pats the seat beside her, showing for me to sit. I perch on the edge of the couch, twisting my hands nervously.

“Sit back, relax, we have important things to discuss, and you look like you are ready to bolt.”

Doing as she asks, pushing myself back, I find it impossible to relax. The house and the woman claiming to be my grandmother feel too much out of my comfort zone. I prefer simple things; everything around me feels extravagant and screams money.

“I am not going to beat around the bush or baby you. We have not got time for that. What I am going to tell you is important. I need you to listen carefully and let me finish. You may not believe what I have to say, but it is the truth, you must accept it quickly.”

I nod, unsure of what to say or what she is talking about.

“We are witches. We come from an extensive line of witches. In a few months’ time you will be turning eighteen, which is when witches gain their full power. That is why it is crucial that I take you in at this point.” She looks at me with ice-blue eyes, pausing for a moment.

“Why your mother sheltered you from our world, I do not know. There are powerful forces out there, the forces of darkness, I have been told that you have already encountered them, is that correct?”

This woman is a fruitcake on the border line of insanity. She is crazy. A witch, really, forces of darkness?

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Are you on any medication that you forgot to take?” I couldn’t help but ask. The whole conversation seems far-fetched to me, a fairy tale gone wrong.

Her eyes spark with anger before settling back to neutral. “Were you or were you not attacked in the mall?” She spoke slowly, each word clear like I am the one with the problems.

“Two men tried to rob me, it happens all the time,” I say shrugging my shoulders, it wasn’t a big deal. The red eyes flash before me, causing me to shudder.

“That is not what happened. This is not the first time that the creatures of the dark have tried to attack you. The guardians have done well protecting you these two years. But unfortunately, the incident was too much of a close call.”

Staring at her blankly, I have no idea what she is talking about. She really believes whatever she is saying, and her eyes shine with determination.

“What do you mean, guardians?” The word guardian swims around my brain.

“I sent three guardians to watch over you, when I found where you were located. The Michaels have been doing an excellent job. When they reported you were attacked, I made the decision that it was time to bring you into our world, to bring you home where you belong.” The name Michael echoes in my head.

Misty’s last name is Michael. Clara had told me Misty’s brother brought me home. Misty has always been secretive about her family changing the subject whenever I asked questions.

The crazy lady watches my face intently, while thoughts swirl around my head.

Red eyes flash in my mind again.

It can’t be real. My dreams can’t be real. I must be the one that has gone crazy. She is not taking about Misty, my best friend. Strange past conversations with Misty float through my mind, pieces start to fit together like a jigsaw.

Misty has asked me on numerous occasions if I believe in magic. Each time I would laugh and say no. She has told me countless times that she believes that magic is real and that there is more to the world than what the eye can see.

“I think maybe you need to see someone. Get help.” The words come out in a whisper. I cannot believe this woman, even though my heart is telling me it is the truth.

“I don’t need help. It is the truth. Now, I have someone that wants to talk to you, maybe she can help you believe.”

My dreams flash through my mind, dreams and reality, both mixing as one, merging together into a blurry picture.

I refuse to believe her, there are no such things as demons and magic. Demons only exist in movies and dreams not in real life. Maybe she has watched one too many horror movies and now cannot tell fiction from reality.

Misty walks into the room, her face full of excitement as she bounces with each step.

My breathing stills.

How could she? She lied to me.

My blood begins to boil as anger heats up my skin. I become on the verge of a meltdown, my mind on overdrive ready to explode.

Misty never was my friend, just hired by my crazy Grandmother.

Misty has the grace to hang her head low, and her excitement vanishes within an instant.

She peeks at me through her long lashes, her baby blue eyes dull with sorrow. I glare back, furious for believing her. Mad not only with her but myself for being so gullible.

Before Misty came into my life, making friends was hard for me. I never felt as if I belonged. The other students thought I was strange, keeping to myself and going out of my way to avoid them. Misty changed all that slowly, she coaxed me out of my protective bubble. Still, she has betrayed me.

“Kayla, I am sorry, I wanted to tell you, but I had orders, I couldn’t break them.” She steps closer, desperation in her eyes as she places her hand on top of mine. Whipping my hand back with surprising force, I jump to my feet, taking a step away from her.

“I thought you were my friend, but all this time you have been lying to me! Hired by that insane woman to watch me and report to her!”

“I am your friend, Kay, I ….”

Holding my hand up, I do not want to hear her excuses. “Don’t, Misty, if that is even your real name or just your stage name.” I cut her down with my words, my anger taking control.

“I am sorry, please forgive me,” she pleads for forgiveness, but my heart is as cold as iron.

I let her in. I told her how much I wanted to know my real family. How I wished I could get my memories back. I told her things I had never told anyone else. I trusted her. All this time she was working for my grandmother.

Glaring at her, I walk past her, my head held high. Nothing she can say will make her betrayal any less hurtful. Once out of the room, I head to the staircase that leads to my room. This place is a joke. Whatever twisted game they are playing I want no part in it. I should have fought harder to stay with Clara and David, Clara works for a judge I am sure she could have pulled some strings. Instead, I played the good little girl and went obediently all the while my heart screamed to fight and stay.

“Where are you going, Kayla? We have lots more to discuss.” My grandmother’s voice calls out, grating on my nerves.

Spinning on my heels, hate filling every pore of my body, I step towards her. My Grandmother’s face falls, and she takes a step back, panic clear on her schooled face.

“I think we are done here, permanently. I am going home, to my parents, the two people who have raised me. You are a crazy old woman. You need help and I hope you get the help that you need. But I am done here.” Before she can say anything in response, I bolt up the stairs and into my room, throwing a few items into a rucksack.

This has been a disaster. My best friend is not my best friend, just my crazy grandmother’s puppet. How did I fall for her fake smile and bubbly personality that made me feel alive?

Homesickness sinks in. I miss Clara and David, their easy-going personalities. Clara and her words of wisdom, she is the kindest person I know, willing to give everyone a chance, even those that have wronged her, she never lets anything bring her down. Always be kind was her motto.

How can I be kind after what I have just learned?

When I reach the front door, I’m relieved that no one is there to stop me. I run down the driveway, through the iron gates, following the dirt road.

I have no plan in mind. One way or another I will make it back to California even if that means I must hitch hike with a dirty truck driver it will be a small price to pay.

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