Professor Sterling paces the front of the classroom with his hands behind his back. “There’s a legend that a very long time ago a meteorite fell from the sky and landed up in the mountains that surround this valley.”
People in the classroom glance around at one another and an eerie calm sets in, as if we all agree that he’s snapped. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt, however, since I know what it is like to potentially be crazy. Plus, there is something about what he’s saying that strikes a nerve and a vibration of a memory whispers a story I can’t remember the words to.
He strolls behind the podium and I swear his gaze loiters on me as he takes in everyone. He picks up a marker and climbs up in the stool behind the podium. “Although, some believe that it wasn’t a meteorite, but an actual fallen star.”
A hand shoots up in the air and Professor Sterling points the marker at the culprit; a straggly built guy that has very bad acne. “Yes, Philman.”
“It’s Philip,” the guy corrects and slouches forward as he flips the page of his notebook. “And if a star actually hit earth, we’d all be dead,”
Professor Sterling shakes his head as he hops off the stool. “Not if it was a piece of a star. Sometimes, when stars get spinning beyond their normal acceleration speed, pieces break off. Some may be large while others are as tiny as my finger.” He strolls up to the board and scribbles jagged lines across the star, making it look like it’s broken.
“But, if it hit, wouldn’t we all know about it?” a girl from the front row calls out as she fans through the pages of her textbook.
He readdresses his attention back to the class, facing us as he throws the marker onto his desk. “Not if someone hid it before it was discovered.”
“But who would do that?” the girl responds and picks up her pen to take notes.
The grin on Professor Sterling’s face is haunting and sends a chill up my spine. “Someone who wanted a lot of power.”
I’m engrossed in the irrationality of the story. Fallen stars. Power hungry people. It’s the making of an interesting novel.
“Maybe, he’s high, too.” The feel of Alex’s breath steals my focus.
I look away from Professor Sterling to Alex and am stunned by how close he is. “I think he’s just telling a legend.”
“Maybe.” He smiles as he reaches over and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. He slides his finger down my cheekbone and jawline before moving it away. There’s a slight tremble to his hand, but he plays it off with a cocky smile. “Or maybe, he’s just high or drunk.”
Touch me again. Please touch me again. I’ve never been touched like that before, except in my own imagination. I’m hypnotized. Petrified. Controlled. I can’t look away from him, even when he reclines back in his chair and concentrates on the front of the classroom while chewing on the end of his pen. I forget about paying attention. I forget about everything for a moment.
We don’t talk for the rest of class, but halfway through Professor Sterling’s lecture, Alex moves his leg toward me, inching it closer until his knee is resting against mine. The contact is mind-blowing, amazing, and mystifying. I’m not sure if he’s done it on purpose or if he is just getting comfortable. Either way, I’m glad.
I’m glad about a lot of things at that moment.
***
Alex leaves in a hurry when class is over, barely uttering two words to me. I try not to take it personally since the guy is more up and down than I am, but it does bother me. How he’d been acting during class was great and fun and I’ve wanted both of those things in my life for a while. He takes those things with him the moment he exits the door, though.
I head around the back of the school where my car is parked. I usually park out front, but it was overly crowded today. The snow is coming down hard and I can barely make out the outline of the cars. With my chin tucked down and my hood pulled over my head, I fight my way to where I guess my car is parked.
As I near the back row of the parking lot, I’m overtaken with the strangest feeling that someone is following me. I shift my bag up my arm, telling myself I’m overreacting, but then I hear a whisper. It’s feeble at first; however, it grows noisier and more coherent.
“Gemma.” A hand grabs my arm and I’m basked in the warmest rays of sunshine that have ever touched the earth. It’s magical and makes me feel powerful.
As a warm sensation sails across my skin, my legs give out and I crumple to the ground, hitting the ice hard. As I shoot upright, I don’t feel pain, but I’m off-balance. With my hands out to the side of me, I squint through the flurry of snow. In the distance, there’s a figure; lofty, with wide-ranging shoulders. It looks an awful lot like the figure I’ve seen in the alleyway near the front entrance; the one with the glowing yellow eyes. Shit.
I move to run, but a thick fog swims out from behind a car and heads toward me. It’s tinged black, like ashy smoke, and it gyrates around me, starting at my feet and working its way to my head. It mixes with the snow that floats up from the ground. I can’t see a damn thing, except for the eyes moving toward me.
It can’t be real. Things like this only exist in dreams, but, as the temperature plummets, and my skin turns a gruesome shade of blue, I make a decision.
It’s time to run like hell.
I drop my bag and whirl around, preparing to run, but I slam into something rock solid. I swiftly back up with my hands out in front of me and panting for air. Through the fog, Alex surfaces, and relief washes over me. He puts his fingers up to his lips, urging me to be quiet as he takes my hand. There’s no spark of electricity from the contact this time, and I feel hollow. It feels strange and unnatural, but as he pulls me to the left, I run with him, trusting him completely.
As we near the cars, I glance over my shoulder and search for the monster. The fog has divided and I have a clear view of it. It’s more terrifying to look at in real-life. It is excessively tall with rotting skin and purple and black veins. There are bits and pieces of flesh missing, revealing bones and muscles. A black cloak drapes down its body to the icy ground. The fog that conceals the parking lot is streaming from out of its mouth and it makes a hollow noise with each breath. It’s terrifying and the fear sears the image of it into my mind like a tattoo I’ll never be able to get rid of.
Alex jerks me around a car and we hunker down behind its side. Fog dances around us and the wintry air is like needles to my skin. I begin to shiver and chatter uncontrollably.
“It’s going to find us,” I say through chattering teeth as I turn to face him.
He doesn’t respond and he looks a little out of it.
“Alex,” I whisper, waving my hand in front of his face. “We should run. Those things… They… they’ll kill us both.”
He seems unaffected, stoic and immobile. I wave my hand in front of his face again, but he doesn’t blink. What the hell is wrong with him?
I’m about to pinch him to snap him out of his trance when a deafening shriek cripples the air. I jump to my feet as the monster steps out from in front of the car. I spin toward Alex to shout at him to run, but he isn’t there. I reel back around, but the monster has vanished, too. It’s all gone; the fear, the need to get away. Everything transfers back into place; the fog lifts and my body warms up.
There’s a swishing sound and then I’m being pulled back. I’m no longer standing, but lying alone in the middle of the parking lot; my face pressed against the ice, and my cheekbone feels swollen and bruised. I sit up and cup my cheek. There isn’t a single speck of fog in sight, no monsters, no Alex. Everything is just as it should be.
Except for my head.
It’s like I zoned off in the middle of the day while I was walking and fell down. I’m pretty certain that I’m going to have a bruise. Letting out a massive breath of air, I search between the cars in the parking lot and behind a nearby tree, just to make sure. All seems right in the world. My skin has turned to its normal shade of pale and the memories of what just happened are already drifting away.
How many damn times is this going to happen to me? Maybe it’s time to see someone and get my head checked out.
I scoop up my bag, dust off the snow and watch the cars back out of their parking spaces. I’m losing it. I’m really going crazy. Either that, or someone is seriously messing with my head.
Chapter 5
For the next couple of days, Alex doesn’t show up to class and I don’t see him in the halls. I try not to think about it too much, but it’s all my mind goes to. While I wait it out, my nightmares become cleverer. The scenery starts altering to darker places, like cemeteries and gothic clubs. One even takes place in a yard full of bones. The sequence of events never changes, though. I’ll be with Alex, or sometimes with the blond stranger, and BAM, the monsters will show up, we’ll suffer and ultimately die.
For a faltering instant, I consider telling Marco and Sophia about what is going on—trying to seek help—but then, I realize that will only add to my insanity. So I keep my mouth shut, letting my nightmares haunt me, own me, consume my nights and leave me wishing for a friend or someone I can talk to about them.
I’m working in the library this morning. It’s a quiet day and I find myself missing the busy work of putting books away and checking books in and out to distract me from my thoughts of monsters, heavy make out sessions and the realization that I might be lonely for the rest of my life. As I place a worn book onto the top row of a shelf with my feet propped on the bottom and my arm stretched as far as it will go, I hear someone move up beside me.
“Need some help?” Alex is leaning against the shelf with his hands in his pockets. He has on a black-fitted t-shirt again, a pair of faded jeans, black boots and there are flakes of snow in his brown hair. He looks like he’s trying to be relaxed, but can’t quite get there; his posture’s a little stiff. “You look like you do.”
Every emotion I’ve ever felt crashes through me and throws off my equilibrium, like I’ve been tossed onto a tilt-a-whirl driven by crack. “I’m good, but thanks.” My shoe clips the corner of a cart as I retreat back and I almost fall on my ass.
Alex’s fingers press roughly into my h*ps as he grabs ahold of me and stops me from falling. “You know, I’m starting to notice that you have a knack for falling, especially when you’re around me.”
I back away from him, my entire body searing from his touch. “That’s a clever observation, but I’m always this way.”
He presses his hand to his heart, feigning offense. “So, it’s not just me?”
A soft laugh escapes my mouth that sounds a lot like a dying goat. “Nope, sorry.”
I pause, analyzing how I should approach my much needed question. “Hey, this is going to sound weird, but you didn’t happen to… um… by chance were you out back a few days ago?”
“Out back? Of the campus?” he asks and I nod. “Nah, I’ve never been out there. Why?”