Page 2 of An Anomaly of Sunlight

Wrapping a cream-colored towel around my chest, the dark part of my brain unleashes the jokes. At least he killed you before you could be disappointed by another man in the bedroom. A quick huff of laughter escapes me as I slip into the closet. I suppose I should stop saying he killed me. After all, I’m standing here alive and breathing.

Still, I can’t shake the memory of the blinding pain from the fangs. The hazy film that took over my vision as my head drooped lower and lower… The thump of my heart, agonizingly quick from fear in the beginning, but slowing to a stop in the end. Perhaps I just don’t remember correctly? Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, overloaded with stress. It’s possible my heart didn’t stop entirely and I’m just confusing it with blacking out.

My brows pinch as my eyes fall to my thighs in the mirror once more. Scars to remind me what I knew all along. Never trust the paranormal. A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. I let it fall. Allow myself to just breathe for a moment. To just feel, remind myself that I am still alive. Humans may be rare in our society, but I will settle for nothing less. Not after this. I could never feel comfortable opening myself up to a paranormal again.

Straightening my shoulders, I push a cluster of flashy dresses to the side, revealing the safe built into the closet wall. As soon as the click sounds after typing in the code, my shoulders drop, a deep sigh of relief pushing past my lips. These are my hidden treasures — my reminders of home.

Reaching to the shelf above, I grab and slip into a sports bra and pair of panties. Returning to the safe I eagerly pull out my go-to outfit: baggy sweatpants and an oversized sweater. I came to Angel’s Rest to get ahead, to do better for myself. Yet, the feel of this soft, familiar fabric against my skin makes me question why I ever felt the need to chase money in the first place.

Life was infinitely easier and safer in Tarot Lake. Mom and I may not have had many material things, but the love we shared made us rich in another way. Perhaps she was always the driving factor of me taking matters into my own hands. I always wanted to ease her load; she deserved the best things life had to offer. After all, she sacrificed so much of herself to raise me on her own after my father vanished.

Remembering the gleam in her eyes when I was able to fund the setup of her own grooming shop, the motivation becomes clear. Not to say I didn’t want nice things for myself. A home I could design on my own and the expensive camera and lenses to improve my passion for photography. Although the camera hasn’t been acquired yet, I did have my house built. Of course, I offered my mom the same, but she refused me and purchased her own tiny home with revenue from her business.

Since I’m overly cautious with my identity, I’ve only actually seen my house three times. Once to discuss the placement and blueprint, then check the framing, and finally to see the layout of all the rooms before the finishing touches were added. I’d never felt more at home than when I’d stepped inside.

I designed the house with two things in mind. Raising a family or opening the photography studio of my dreams. Whichever happens first.

Returning is long overdue.

I pocket the remaining items in the safe. My old wallet with my I.D. cards and a little cash, and a gold necklace sporting a beautiful iridescent stone. The necklace is supposedly from my father, but I’m not entirely sure I believe that. I’ve never met him. Mom has offered to tell me about him, but I would rather not know. He abandoned me as a child; he isn’t worthy of knowing me now.

Regardless, I’ve always kept the necklace. It is quite gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it before with its otherworldly sheen. Fastening the smooth chain behind my neck, the gem slips under my sweater. Then I click the safe shut, sliding the dresses back in place to conceal it.

Pulling on some casual black sneakers, I thread my hair into a tight braid, then flip it behind my back. One last glance in the mirror has a satisfied smirk tugging at my lips. I spent six years drawing attention to myself. Wearing whatever sponsors sent or what Evadne suggested was trending.

Tonight though, I can fade into the background where I find myself most comfortable.

Tonight, I am ever thankful for my mom’s advice to not only alter my appearance, but to never tell anyone my real name. I used to think she was overly paranoid. Now I’ve come to realize how sacred our identities are.

The reflection staring back at me is the polar opposite of that carefully crafted facade. The woman I’ve spent the last six years camouflaging myself as wouldn’t be caught dead in this outfit.

Tonight, Ame Langley from Quartzville will disappear off the face of the Earth.

Two

Amethyst

The trash bag drops silently into the dumpster as if even it knows we’re on a stealth mission. If Enzo comes back to my apartment, he’ll find no trace of me. I cross my fingers and hope beyond hope that he assumes the worst. The best-case scenario is that he believes I’m dead. That all of Angel’s Rest believes the same.

Not that I’ve ever extensively planned out what to do after almost being murdered, but I assumed throwing away the bloodied clothes would make it seem like I had immediately left the apartment in that same outfit. And given the state I was in, I surely couldn’t have made it far. Perhaps I was carried away by a wild animal or walked off a cliff. Maybe I was struck by a car or…

An older model minivan comes to a stop in front of me, interrupting my completely normal thoughts of how my own death could occur. Get a grip, Amethyst. No one will be looking for me anyway; they’ll be looking for Ame.

“Moooooom! I’m bored!” A tiny voice calls from the backseat as the passenger side window rolls down. “You told me we could go home.” The young girl whines. “She’s right, you did say that.” An older sounding boy confirms. “I know what I said. I’m sorry. Please just count a few more red cars?” The driver pleads, turning to me with apologetic eyes, “I’m so sorry, ma’am, please pay them no mind. The sitter canceled last minute.”

My heart aches for the trio. “No worries at all, you’re Jessa?” I ask, desperation coating the words as I read the name from the ride share app on my phone. Usually, the driver should prompt the passenger for a name. I just don’t feel like sticking around any longer than necessary. “That’s me.” She smiles.

“Climb on in, I’ll have you there in no time,” she glances toward her phone, “Amethyst.” I hop in the passenger’s seat, leaving one foot hovering just outside of the door. “Actually, could you give me just a moment, please?” Jessa nods, “Of course.”

I complete the ride in the app, making sure to add a tip large enough that Jessa could take the next two weeks off if she chose to. I quickly swipe into settings and reset the phone to its factory defaults. Without another thought I fling it against the concrete and stomp my foot on top of it for good measure.

Satisfied with the amount of crackling from my phone’s glass, I put the mangled device into my lap. “Ready,” I nod, clicking the door shut. Jessa’s phone dings from the air vent holder, and her eyebrows touch her hair as she takes in the tip amount, I assume.

She glances at the shattered phone in my hands. A silent moment passes between us, and before I can stop myself, I’m wondering if she’s paranormal. I bite the inside of my cheek to scold myself. Without a word, she shifts into drive, pulling off the curb into the bustling traffic.

Jessa told no lies when she said she’d have me to the airport in no time. After all my years in the city, not once can I recall getting here this quickly. I’m reaching for the door handle before the car even comes to a stop.

With one foot already resting on the concrete, I turn to Jessa. “Thank you, truly. You’ve helped me more than you know.” With a glance into the back seat, I notice the children sleeping. A warm smile settles on my face, “Best wishes, take care of yourselves.”