Cursed Page 3

  Turning back to the game, my eyes lock on the ball as the guys lob it into the air, passing it back and forth more than a dozen times before one of them finally misses.

  “You’re a lucky bastard, Alec. Let me see you try that again,” one boy taunts. “I won’t miss this time.”

  “C’mon, Brett,” one of the girls says with a laugh. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

  Brett tosses a glare up at her then flips her off.

  Meanwhile, Alec is chuckling while playfully tossing the ball into the air and catching it. “We’ll see about that.” Alec winks.

  A fluttering erupts in my chest. The boy, Alec, is gorgeous, with a charming full-blown smile, short wavy hair, tanned skin made evident in the house lights they play under, and an athletic build that has me curious as to his age. They all appear to be around the same age as me, but I can’t be sure from just one glance.

  A moment later, the game is back in session. There’s some laughing, some grunting, and even some cursing each time one of them misses. While Brett looks to be in a competitive match, Alec seems to be just having fun with it. But when Alec jumps into the air and brings his palm down hard on the ball, my jaw falls open as it zooms over the net, angling for the ground at Brett’s feet.

  Brett is already diving for it, anticipating its landing. I hold my breath and imagine the ball denting the beach while he overshoots his aim and misses it completely. Miss it. My mind echoes the words as my gaze follows the movement of the ball. I’m so focused on what’s going to happen next, it almost feels as if time slows. Miss it, my mind chants. Miss the ball.

  Brett slides too far forward, causing his clenched fists to miss the ball completely. The ball comes down hard, smacking him square on the head. A resounding pop sounds through the air, and the girls from the balcony above laugh hysterically.

  They all seem so focused on the game, I have every intention of walking away unnoticed, but I’m not fast enough. As if he senses my presence, Alec turns and finds me in the darkness. He tilts his head then—to my horror—takes a step in my direction.

  All I can think to do is run. Maybe it’s my soaked-through clothes, my bare feet, or the sheer and utter embarrassment that floods me from being caught snooping on the group of friends, but I can’t seem to make my feet move. I’m glued to the spot, stunned as my gaze locks on the boy moving in my direction. Our eyes connect, and it’s like my insides freeze too. There’s an unmistakable intensity to his gaze, reminding me of the runner from earlier. But this is different, like an electric current slithering through every nerve ending of my body until I can’t deny it anymore.

  A jolt zaps through me like lightning—so hard and fast, I drop to my knees. Pressure mounts behind my eyes as I force them closed and press my palms against my ears. My mouth opens, as if I’ll scream, but no sound follows. The pain is excruciating, and a flash of bright white light illuminates my darkened vision. It flashes over and over and over. I don’t know how many times it strikes, but each one feels like a mini-electrocution.

  After what seems like an eternity, the light holds—a solid white expanse accompanied by an overwhelming sense of peace. Then I’m sinking.

  What I see next makes no sense, but it’s as clear as the moon that hangs over the bay. Sand holds my feet prisoner as I sink into the earth while the wind swirls viciously around me. The ocean waves crash onto the shore, and all I can do is watch it in solitude. I make out voices—no, screams from somewhere else on the beach. Turning, I try to see where the commotion is coming from. All I see in the near distance are orange flames and a screen of billowing black smoke that envelops me all at once.

  I’m suffocating. My hands rush to my neck. I can’t breathe. I’m falling into the sand, completely helpless.

  The screams grow louder as I grow immensely weaker. All I can think is that this is how it ends. Then I collapse.

  In the next instant, the horrific scene vanishes, along with the white light that took me there in the first place. I gasp like it’s my first breath after nearly drowning, and I’m back on the beach. I squeeze my eyes shut, suffocating the pain and suffering that couldn’t have been real. But it can’t be real. It was just one of my awful nightmares.

  Except… I wasn’t asleep. I was wide awake when the scene took over all my senses. My chest heaves as I try to rid the vision from my mind.

  What just happened?

  “Hey!” a voice says. “Are you okay?”

  I open my eyes. A figure is rushing toward me. I then remember where I was before I escaped this reality for another. The music. The volleyball game. The boy. Alec.

  I refuse to look at him, to let him see me like this. He already caught me watching his game, and now this. How embarrassing. But while I know I should be humiliated by what just happened, that isn’t the feeling that swells in the deepest parts of me. I’m terrified above anything else. That vision felt entirely too real to just wave away with a shake of my head. What is going on with me?

  “Can you hear me?” Alec drops onto the sand in front of me. “Talk to me.”

  The panic in the stranger’s voice shakes me enough that I can finally respond. “I’m fine. I’m okay. I don’t—” I raise my chin and meet his gaze, the impact of our eyelock being enough to make me completely forget what I was about to say. The attraction I felt for him earlier doesn’t even compare to what I feel right now.

  Concern floods his gorgeous face as his eyes scan my body. “You sure? That was quite the fall.”

  The embarrassment I felt earlier resurfaces, and I try to hide the heat climbing up my neck with an awkward laugh. “I’m okay, really. Thank you, though.” It takes some effort to stand, so much that dizziness overtakes me, and I fall again, this time landing in his awaiting arms.

  “Whoa,” he says gently. “Take your time.”

  I look up at him, this time focusing on the guy staring down at me. His hazel-green eyes, even in the badly illuminated night, are clear. His short wavy hair frames his unspoiled face. And the natural smile that pushes up his lips wraps around my heart and squeezes.

  I’ve stared at him too long.

  “Hey.” His voice is deep and calming like melted chocolate.

  “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I had a long car ride here. I must be tired.” I'm shocked by how together I sound after the events of tonight. I’m seeing things, experiencing electric shocks through my body, and now I’m calm? Impossible.

  I’m able to sit up now, so he settles me, and we sit together. He starts to search me for damage, but I scoot away a few inches, afraid of what he'll find if he examines me too closely. When his eyes fall back on mine, I find comfort in them immediately. Who is this guy?

  “I was already coming over to say hello when I saw you fall,” he explains. “You looked like you were in pain. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you okay?” His voice is gentle, and there’s something about his eyes that tells me his friendliness is genuine.

  “Yeah, it was just a, um, headache, I think.” I don’t know why I’m choosing to be vague right now, but it seems like the right thing to do. “It hit me out of nowhere. And then I fell. And it just seemed to… linger.”

  The boy nods, his brows bent together like he’s not sure if he should believe me. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital. Those kinds of headaches aren't normal.”

  With a shake of my head, I edge away from him. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I already feel better.” I stand effortlessly to prove it.

  He looks unsure but rises with me. “Can I at least walk you back to where you came from?” He nods to my grandmother’s manor, causing unease to snake through me.

  “Um…” I start awkwardly. “How did you know where my home is? I just moved here today.”

  “You’re Rose’s granddaughter, right?” He says it confidently, but there’s also something else there I’m struggling to detect. Disapproval?

  I shake away the thoughts. Now is not the time to make assumptions about
the thoughts of a boy I don’t even know. “That would be me.”

  “We’ve been expecting you.”

  My insides jump at that comment. “You have?” Then I shake my head, realizing I have a more important question. “Did you say ‘we’?”

  Alec nods then throws a look over his shoulder. I follow his gaze to find Alec’s friends all huddled together, staring at us. The guys look genuinely curious, but I can’t shake the hasty glares the girls cast in my direction.

  “You’ve kind of been the talk of the town,” Alec says with a sheepish smile. “It’s the curse of moving to a small town, I guess.”

  I let out an awkward laugh.

  “C’mon, already,” one of the girls calls out to Alec. “We’re going inside to watch a movie.”

  “Yeah, man,” one of the guys says with a grin. “Bring your new friend if you want. She’s cute.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks at the compliment, and Alec lifts his brows as if that’s not a bad idea. “Well, what do you say, new girl? Want to make some friends?”

  A whispered argument strikes up between the members of the group behind him. I’m sure they think I can’t hear them. I make out every single word, and it’s enough to solidify the fact that I’m as unwelcome in this town as I was back in Silver Lake. I try not to feel dejected about that small fact, but it’s close to impossible.

  I take a step backward and shake my head. “I really should get going. It’s late, and Charlotte is waiting for me.” I start to turn away, but first, I sneak a look at him from under my eyelashes. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Nice meeting you…”

  I walk away quickly, ignoring his voice when he calls from behind me. “Wait. Let me at least walk you home.”

  I refuse to let Alec waste another second on me when I know my time here is limited. My birthday is in one month. I’ll be eighteen and free to leave this place. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

  Maybe I was rude to take off like that when Alec was nothing but nice to me, but this situation is much too strange to explain to a complete stranger, especially one whose name I didn’t even ask for but overheard, nonetheless. Then again, he didn’t ask for mine either. But none of that matters. Something tells me I will see him again soon.

  Charlotte is standing at the great room window when I enter the house. I half expect a lecture for staying out too late, but she smiles easily and leads me up the white marble staircase. At the far end of the hall, she opens a set of double doors with a grand flourish.

  The bedroom is an overabundance of riches, with floor-to-ceiling windows filling a rounded wall that faces the bay, a gold four-poster bed with fluffy white bedding, dozens of gold-framed photos on the wallpapered walls, sculptures, and various pieces of distressed furniture. I meet my own gaze in the vanity’s oval mirror. The ornate looking glass might just be the most beautiful piece in the room. With its intricately carved gold frame and hand-sculpted design, it stands out from everything else in the room by far.

  My mousy brown hair is all knotted and windblown. I consider taking the gold-plated brush to it, wishing it were longer so I could pull it up into a bun and let my neck breathe. But while I’m in my grandmother’s home and this is my room for the time being, I feel like I’m an intruder.

  I look back up at my reflection and consider my complexion. I think this is the first time I’ve really looked at myself in months. My skin is pastier than normal, and my dull gray eyes still hint at life despite being bloodshot from lack of sleep. My cheekbones are still too pointy, and the corners of my mouth are naturally turned down to the point where I’m always being asked to smile even when nothing is wrong.

  “You’re young and beautiful, Katrina,” my mom once said. “Those thoughts inside your head that tell you you’re not are simply a lie. But you’ll never see the truth until you stop looking at your reflection.” She pinned my cheeks between her fingers and tapped my chest. “This is where your true mirror lies. Look here.”

  Turning away from the mirror—and the painful memory—I watch as Charlotte crosses the room and steps in front of another set of double doors.

  She pushes them open before turning to me with a smile. “Your bathroom. I’m sure you’d like to wash up before bed.”

  I say nothing as my gaze slips past the petite blond woman and catches sight of an oversized walk-in closet and a pearl garden tub beside a giant glass walk-in shower.

  “Well then,” Charlotte says when I still haven’t responded. “I’ll leave you be.” She steps past me, slips out my bedroom doors, and looks back at me with a hand on each door in preparation of closing them. “Breakfast is served at eight. Your grandmother is never late.” With a final look of playful warning, she closes the doors, leaving me to myself.

  Not wanting to wait any longer to escape this overwhelming reality, I tear off my clothes and climb under the covers. It doesn’t take long for my lids to grow heavy with exhaustion.

  The mahogany vanity in my dreams is a magnified version of the one I remember. Much like everything else in my new room, this one towers over me. If the objects aren’t generous in size, then they make up for it with their beauty and fragility. I’ve never felt farther from home.

  Staring back at me from the large oval mirror is a reflection of a girl who looks like me. Her face is warmer than mine, like a nice olive-tone that reminds me of my mother. There’s almost a glow about it that I can’t turn away from. Her eyes are a bright, electric shade of silver. Her dark-brown hair is shiny and thick, flowing down past her shoulders. I take in her groomed features with awe. Physically, despite my mom’s warning, which enters deep in my subconscious, she’s everything I wish to be.

  I reach out for the glass, and with every inch distance my arm creeps toward it, my reflection follows in perfect synchrony. I halt my movement, and she halts too. She copies me as I raise my hand to my face then move a strand of hair away from my eye. I gasp, and she gasps too. That’s when I realize… the girl in the mirror is me.

  I’m almost afraid to lean in, but I want to get a closer look. My lashes are longer. My nails, now near my face, appear manicured and long. But that’s not all that’s different. There’s a necklace. The green stone reflects a shard of light from the glass chandelier, and I realize it’s not just any stone. It’s dainty, rare, and exquisite. It most definitely doesn’t belong to me, yet it sits perfectly above the swell of my breasts as if it were made for me.

  I reach for the jewel to lift it from my chest and examine it, but the moment I touch it, the stone glows from within. I release it, my heart pounding like a steady drum. Glancing back up at my reflection, I widen my eyes in surprise. The image, no longer my own, smiles back at me with an almost evil glimmer in her eye. Fear erupts inside me, and I can feel myself shaking. Meanwhile, my image does not shake with me. Instead, she smiles brighter.

  The girl’s eyes narrow on me then turn so they no longer meet mine. She’s now staring over my shoulder at a maroon-and-white antique vase laden with fresh flowers. The girl points her finger directly at it. It’s not until she begins to raise her arm that I realize what is happening. As her finger rises, so does the vase in the reflection, higher and higher until the vase is lingering in midair.

  As her eyes snap back to me, the streaks of madness in them freeze me completely. She isn’t smiling anymore. The green necklace around her neck is glowing so brightly that sparks of light are spraying from its center. Then she opens her mouth into a grotesque shape just before letting out a terrifying scream.

  I jam my palms against my ears in an attempt to muffle the horrible noise. It’s impossible. I know I’ll never shake the sound, and it seems to be only getting louder. As the girl’s pitch reaches a crescendo, the vase in the reflection shakes violently until it shatters in midair, spraying my bedroom with glass.

  Still covering my ears, and with my eyelids pinched closed, I scream myself awake. I continue to scream until someone starts shaking me.

  My eyes shoot
open, my body stiffening in defense as if the girl in the mirror will attack me, but she’s no longer there. I’m in bed, covered from head to toe in sweat. It was all just a dream.

  It’s Charlotte who woke me. She holds me, shushing me as I sob. “It was just a dream. It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine.”

  “Fine?” I squeal. My eyes fly open, and I shake my head. The voice beside me is calm and understanding, and I feel anything but. “You think everything is going to be fine? My mom is dead. I’m living in this”—my eyes fly around the room—“ridiculously expensive mansion with a woman I’ve never met. And I’m having all these crazy dreams and visions, and—” I stop myself when my thoughts conjure up an image of the jogger in the black cap. I don’t know what that was, but that didn’t feel normal either. How he glared at me, like he already hated me after just one glance.

  “Visions, you say?”

  I turn to look at the short-haired blond woman and shake my head, deciding it’s best not to elaborate. “I don’t know what I just woke up from, but that was not a dream.”

  Charlotte places her hand on my back. I turn to look at her just as she averts her eyes, causing a knot to form in my gut. Something in her face goes beyond the kind, gentle woman I first met. She’s hiding something. I can see it on her guarded expression.

  “You’ve been through a lot, Katrina. I expect you’ll have many more unpleasant dreams.”

  “I sure as hell hope not.”

  Charlotte snaps her head to look at me and softens her eyes. “I understand that you’re angry, but your grandmother won’t approve of that language. Not in this house.”

  I bite my tongue before I spit back a retort that Charlotte doesn’t deserve. She’s right. I’m angry. I’m saying things I shouldn’t. But how can anyone expect that any of this is normal?

  With another shake of my head, I sigh. “I’m going to try to get some sleep now. Maybe we can start over in the morning.”