The Healer: A Young Adult Romantic Fantasy (The Healer Series Book 1) (6 page)

Once we’d joined the ranks of high schoolers, we’d started going there every week. Over time, I’d become good friends with the members of the band who worked there on a permanent basis. All I had to do was give them the chords, and they were on board with whatever. As a rule, I didn’t like drawing attention to myself, but this was normal, healthy, high school attention, and for me, I really needed the release.

“Perhaps,” I answered. “Why? Are you suggesting we head over there and check out the night life?”

“Heavens, no! I’m still feeling quite overcome by this vicious flu bug,” she huffed. “I need one more day to relax, recover, and enjoy my mother waiting on me hand and foot.”

“Sounds pleasant enough.”

“Oh, believe me, it is.” Angie sounded extremely pleased with herself. “I just need to know when your next performance is. There’s this guy I want you to meet.”

“No guys! I can’t focus on my singing when you do stuff like that.” Angie’s exasperated sigh crackled over the connection.

“Fine, since you refuse to allow me any excitement, did anything crazy happen to you tonight…without my help? In other words, would you really have a life if I didn’t insist that you live it?”

I rolled my eyes, which was pointless since Angie wasn’t there to see it. Then, my thoughts went to the “hallucination” I’d had. “Well, something really weird happened to me as I was walking home from work.”

“Ooooh. Do tell. Did you meet a handsome stranger?”

“You’re so optimistic, and no, I did not. I think I have a stalker, though. I’m not one for the dramatics, but I could’ve sworn someone was not only watching me, but following me. I could actually hear their footsteps behind me.”

“Hope, are you serious or do I need to be waiting for some kind of punch line here?”

“No, I’m totally serious. There was someone out there. I started running, and whoever was behind me started running.”

“Whaaaat?”

“I know. Freaky, right? But it gets worse.” I rolled to the middle of my bed and began plucking at the fringe on my throw pillow in an effort to calm my nerves. “As I’m running, something hits my legs and sends me sprawling to the cement just as this weird burst of flame shoots past me and hits the tree in front of me.” I accidentally tugged too hard and broke off several wispy pieces. I frowned down at my handiwork and folded my hand underneath me. “I swear this really happened, but when I told my dad, he said he’d just walked past the tree and there was nothing wrong with it. He thinks I just imagined it.”

Telling the story again made me realize how crazy it did, in fact, sound. On the other hand, talking about narrowly escaping a large ball of fire made sitting alone in my room feel entirely too creepy. I looked toward my window and wondered if my attacker was still outside waiting for me. What if he was watching me? I stood up fast and walked over to the window.

“So, someone followed you, sent a flame thrower your way, and there’s no sign of any damage to the tree or any idea of who your stalker was?” Her voice was beginning to rise in volume.

My window faced the front of the house, and I couldn’t help but look out toward the deserted street in search of my would-be killer.

Nothing. Of course, with the heavy fog encircling the entire neighborhood it was kind of difficult to make out much of anything.

“No. I must be going crazy,” I said. “Could I have hallucinated the whole thing?”

“Hope, you’re the sanest person I know. If anyone was going to hallucinate about something like that, you know it’d be me. Although, I haven’t touched an illegal drug since that day in ninth grade when you found me cutting my hair off in the girl’s bathroom because I thought it was full of snakes.”

“Yes, and what a special day that was.” One of Angie’s more unfortunate personality traits was a penchant for self-destructive behavior. I couldn’t figure out if it had to do with her daddy issues or the problems she had as a child. When Angie was seven, she took a bad fall from my tree house and when she regained consciousness, with my help of course, she had a difficult time deciphering between what was reality and what was fantasy. It scared me, some of the things she would mutter under her breath about seeing death and preventing it from taking people she loved.

I was too little to understand what was happening to her. Her mother took her away for a few months to get some help, and when she came back she never talked about it again. I did my best to wheedle the whole story out of her, but she simply played dumb, said she was all better and never allowed me to broach the subject again. Her wild behavior took front row seat after that.

Fortunately, her drug phase had been a one-time deal. “Your hair didn’t look half bad, either.”

“And still you lie. You’re such a good friend. No, I’m inclined to believe every crazy word you just uttered. Having said that, I’m completely freaked out. You shouldn’t walk to school by yourself tomorrow.”

“You’re sounding like my father, now.” I turned my back to the window and plopped myself down on my bed.

“No need to insult me. My request is a valid one considering what just happened tonight. You have your own car. You should drive it every once in a while.”

“The high school is five blocks away. It’d be a waste of gas.”

“I’ve never understood this need of yours to walk everywhere. It’s like you enjoy the exercise, and you and I both know that that is just ridiculous.”

“Okay, you win. I’ll drive to school tomorrow.”

“I always win. You never put up much of a fight, you know.”

“Would the outcome ever change if I did?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why prolong the inevitable?”

“Good point,” Angie said agreeably. I couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Well, since I don’t have the flu or any tropical diseases preventing me from going to school tomorrow, I better get some sleep.”

“All right. I’ll call you tomorrow so you can update me on all things high school.”

“Should be the shortest conversation we’ve ever had,” I said dryly.

“Please be careful.” Her voice became unfamiliarly serious. “You really have got me freaked out.”

“I’ll be careful,” I promised.

I hung up the phone and looked back at my window.

It was morbid. I knew it was, but I just had to look outside one more time. The need to reassure myself no one was spying on me was an obvious sign of paranoia, but I jumped up from my bed and walked over to the window anyway.

Gazing out across my quiet neighborhood made me want to laugh at how worked up I’d let myself get. Honestly, the most dangerous thing in my neck of the woods was a potential visit from my neighbor, Mrs. Simmons, bearing homemade biscuits capable of rendering the most durable molar in two.

I was so busy rolling my eyes at myself, I almost missed the dark figure standing on the only patch of unlit sidewalk in front of my house. It was definitely the same figure I’d spotted when I was on my front porch, and it was definitely a guy, but beyond that I couldn’t make out any other details. I felt that same mysterious pull, making me lean forward a little. The only thing that prevented me from walking toward him in some hypnotic, trance-like state was my closed bedroom window. My forehead bumped the window lightly, and I was suddenly back to myself.

I blinked a few times to clear my head and focused in on the guy again. The mist surrounding his body seemed to cling to him in strange and unnatural ways. It was definitely horror movie material. He was craning his head backward, looking up at something.

Was he looking at me?

I glanced down at my cell phone and started dialing Angie’s number, but when I looked up again the figure was gone.

Vanished into the ethereal looking fog.

Freaky.

Setting my phone on my desk, I willed myself to calm down. I was seeing things again.

I just needed to get some sleep…and possibly down a few anti-psychotics. Too bad I didn’t have any.

I turned out my lights and ran to my bed, still feeling like I was being watched. I wondered if going outside in search of the dark figure was smart or suicidal. It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Waking up in the morning was difficult. Not only was I tired from the events of the night before, but I felt a little off and wondered if I should have actually eaten my lasagna.

After getting showered and dressed for the day I quickly made my way down the stairs. I still hadn’t heard a peep from my father and wondered if he’d slept through his alarm. As I entered the kitchen and pulled some cereal down from the cupboard I noticed a note taped to the refrigerator.

Got called in early this morning.

Will see you later tonight.

Love,

Dad

I was surprised I hadn’t heard him leave. I was usually a pretty light sleeper. I poured some Wheaties into a bowl and turned toward the fridge to get some milk. That’s when I heard an odd noise coming from the living room.

Chapter Four

Click click. Click click.

I stood still for a minute, listening.

Click click.

What in the world?

It sounded like acrylic nails tapping a hardwood floor. I walked slowly out of the kitchen and made my way down the hall, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. When I approached the entrance to the living room the clicking stopped abruptly. I stopped as well, holding my breath, listening. The silence that filled the house was beginning to make me feel slightly uncomfortable, and for the first time I wondered if maybe I was in some kind of danger.

I’m an idiot. One psychotic delusion, and suddenly everyone is out to get me.

Click click.

This time it was coming from the dining room to my right.

Delusional or not, I was officially terrified. Getting out of the house seemed like a reasonable conclusion to come to, but fear had paralyzed me, leaving my legs frozen and unresponsive even though the need to flee had intensified two-fold.

I could have been blowing things out of proportion, right? Homes made funny noises all the time. I was simply more aware of it now because…because…well, someone had tried to kill me last night. Hadn’t they?

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I began to hear the faint sound of footsteps behind me. All of my weak attempts at thinking rationally flew out the window as panic took over, and I whirled around, sprinting for the front door. I ran into a hard sturdy figure blocking my way, causing me to fall butt first on the hardwood floor. I let out a squeal of surprise, jumped up blindly, and lifted my fist to deck whoever was threatening my safety.

“Whoa, Hope. What’s wrong with you?”

I looked up, startled to see my dad standing there in front of me instead of the crazy ax-murderer I envisioned.

“Dad? You scared the living poop outta me,” I practically shouted. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

I stared at him hard trying to figure out if he was being serious or sarcastic.

“Yes, I’m well aware that you live here. I’m talking about the note you left saying you got called in to the hospital. What are you doing back so soon?”

The look on my father’s face made it abundantly clear that I’d baffled him. I thought about grabbing the note from the fridge and waving it in his face, but his expression switched from puzzlement to embarrassment.

“Right. The note. Turns out they didn’t need me after all.” His words came out slow and hesitant.

“Dad, are you all right?” Something certainly wasn’t right. The hospital always needed my father. I continued staring at him, trying to pinpoint what it was about him that was different.

“Of course I am, darling. I’m just a bit tired. I’m feeling a little sick, actually. Maybe you could make it better for me?” He said it like he wasn’t sure I could.

“Make what better for you, and how? And since when do you call me darling? A little formal, don‘t you think?”

Now I was really confused. I hadn’t sensed my father was ill the night before. I had a habit of checking on him whenever I gave him a hug or a squeeze on the hand. He was all I had left, and I wasn’t going to lose him. I was certain he wasn’t coming down with anything, but something was definitely off about him.

He acted like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next. Then he gave me an awkward smile and took several steps backward.

“Well, you should probably be getting to school now. Don’t you think?” His backward stride began to pick up momentum.

I stood uncertain in the hallway, watching him continue to put distance between us.

“Uh, sure, Dad. You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah.” He turned away quickly and swung himself toward the bottom of the staircase.

I listened as my father stomped up the stairs, entered his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

What the crap?

I moved to the front door, grabbed my backpack from off the ground, and walked outside to my car. My beat up Chevy wasn’t much, but it was mine. I climbed in and set my backpack on the passenger seat, all the while sensing someone was watching me. It was the same sensation I’d felt last night on the way home from work. I looked up and saw my father staring down from his bedroom window.