Page 24 of Against All Odds

I barely acknowledged him. My gaze was focused on my assignment as she stood there, still clutching her hand like it was something damned. She went entirely still – so still, I wondered if her soul had left her body already, to a blissful place that was once promised me but now seemed further out of reach than ever.

Silence.

When she finally released her breath, it left her mouth like a feather, a barely-there ripple in the air – and as her unseeing eyes stared into the dusty air of the corridor, I swore they looked straight into mine.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I just stood there when she rushed back to the living room to grab her bag and coat. She left faster than she came, leaving me in the dark with a dead man and the reality of what I had just done.

Chapter 11.

Raya

As soon as I got on the bike, the tears started flowing. They came with ugly, uncontrolled sobs, burning chemically against my cheeks in the cold winter night breeze.

“I’m sorry,” I cried out into the dark, my bike swerving so wildly, I was dangerously close to another drunken fall. “I’m sorry I failed. Sorry I couldn’t be better. Sorry I’m like this.”

I wasn’t sure who I was apologizing to – myself, maybe? My tired, intoxicated brain didn’t care as the post-panic crash hit – but harder hit the realization I could no longer deny.

Once was luck. Twice was a pattern. Someone was protecting me. I felt it in my bones, but that wasn’t enough; I needed to be sure.

I had to meet my guardian angel. I had to know I wasn’t alone in this dreadful life.

My entire body trembled when I stumbled inside. Two of the guys were smoking weed at the kitchen table. One glanced up at me, his eyes dazed from the weed, but when he noticed my tear-stained face, he gave a brief nod before averting his gaze again. The other didn’t even acknowledge me.

I ran up the stairs two at a time, not bothering to hide my sobbing. It was both a blessing and a curse that my new roommates didn’t care.

The first thing I did was jump in the shower. More tears flowed as I brushed my teeth and scrubbed my entire body – particularly the hand he’d forced – in an attempt to wash his touch off me, but it didn’t help. It was as if the disgusting pig had imprinted himself upon my skin… and to think it could’ve been so much worse.

I slammed the door to my room behind me a little too loudly and turned the key in the lock. There, I slid my back down the door, curled up into a ball, and cried. I cried for what almost happened, the trauma I narrowly escaped – tonight, but now that I thought of it, it could’ve happened many other times too. Why did I live so recklessly? Did I value myself so little, I didn’t care if I lived or died? Did I not think anything bad could happen, because I was already trapped in the worst possible prison twenty-four seven – that of my own mind?

When the crying slowed, I crawled to the window to shut the dark curtains, leaving the window open. With trembling hands, I lit all six candles in my room, displaying them in a circle around me. All I’d ever done during my lifetime of being paranormally sensitive was keep spirits away, not invite them in. I could easily invite the wrong energy if I wasn’t careful, but to meet my guardian angel, I would take the risk. I burned my white sage, my muttered voice commanding all that didn’t belong here to leave through the open window.

Then I lowered myself onto the soft, lavender oil-drenched cushion in the middle of the candle-lit circle, legs crossed underneath me, eyelids trembling.

I cleared my throat.

“Are you there?” My voice came out raspy, hoarse from crying.

Nothing happened. The curtain rustled softly. I glanced up to stare at my own tired eyes, dark circles of worn-out mascara underneath them, eyelids fluttering from the Ritalin comedown.

“Show yourself,” I commanded, more firmly now as I straightened my back. My hands were restless in my lap, fingers twitching to hold onto something, so I grabbed the raw amethyst in front of me, barely noticing how its pointed edges cut into the crusts on my palms.

Still nothing.

“Please,” I whispered. A single tear rolled from my eye, stinging against the raw skin of my cheek. “Please, if you’re there, give me a sign. Show me I’m not alone.”

Nothing but a light flicker in the candlelight.

“Please,” I repeated, my body now shaking as new tears emerged from my eyes. “Please. I know you’re there. Don’t let me do this alone.”

The candles’ shadows on the curtain flickered, taunting, confronting me with my isolation while the only movement was that of the wind through the candles.

I just wished someone would hold me for a while. Or better yet, hold the heaviness for me, so I could hold myself without having to carry it all the time.

“Come on!” I shouted into the dark, no longer caring what my roommates would think of me. “Do you think I’m stupid? Am I supposed to believe it’s a coincidence that a man tried to assault me and died spontaneously – not once, but twice? What are the odds?”

Silence.