My Forever Midnight

MY FOREVER MIDNIGHT

A Forever Midnight Novel (book one)

Bonnie Stratton

Publisher - Gray Jay Moon

Copyright © 2024 by Bonnie Stratton

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

Cover design by: Gray Jay Moon

Published by: Gray Jay Moon

ISBN: 979-8-9899297-0-2 (paperback)

ISBN: 979-8-9899297-2-6 (hardcover)

ISBN: 979-8-9899297-3-3 (e-book)

Printed in United States of America

For permission requests, please contact the publisher at [email protected]

For my boys, Austin and Brandon,

Remember to always accept yourself the way you are.

Contents

"A child is born....

DRAGOVIN

1.ON THE ROAD AGAIN

2.THE HAUNTED BARN

3.RED STAINS

4.BRIGHT YELLOW WALLS

5.BUMP IN THE NIGHT

6.CHIME DUST

7.RUN YOU FOOL

8.BETRAYED

9.SAY WHAT?

10.TAKEN

11.DEAF. BLIND. ALONE.

12.THEY DO EXIST

13.SHADOW DRIFTER

14.THE STONE COTTAGE

15.HIGH AND MIGHTY

16.SWEET THEN SOUR

17.GHOST TOWN

18.THE CASTLE

19.THE EYES OF A STALKER

20.WHISPERS AMONGST FRIENDS

21.SPRAINED HEARTS

22.WHO INVITED YOU?

23.OH, WHAT A NIGHT

24.SPECIAL DELIVERY

25.COLD AS ICE

26.DULY NOTED

27.CROWNED HYBRID

28.FROM BLACK TO BLUE

29.WHO’S ON THE MENU?

30.FORGOTTEN HEDGES

31.FIRESTARTER

32.SELF-CONSCIOUS

33.GLAMOURED

34.FOOD FOR ALL

35.THE PAST CAN BITE

36.THE TEST

37.AT DEATH’S DOOR

38.ALL IS MENDED

39.WHOOO’S THERE?

40.JAILHOUSE ROCK

41.SAVIOR, BEWARE

42.TEMPTATION

43.BAIT & SWITCH

44.FOOLISH CHOICES

45.THE BLACK PHANTOM

46.SMALL SACRIFICES

47.THE HOLE

48.THE INTERROGATION

Epilogue

About The Author

Acknowledgements

Connect with me

"A child is born with the power of the mind.

The blood they hold shall need to bind.

Crimson cinders circle earth’s floor,

to restore the fragments with the power of four.

With the sun and moon combined as one,

the power of the curse shall be undone."

– Lord Prego

DRAGOVIN

Please, Lady Rose, I beg of you. Allow me to hold her a little while longer, the young royal pleaded. You merely laid her in my arms a moment ago.

The powerful spellbinder, functioning as her midwife, offered no compassion, standing statuesque beside the dark wooden bedframe. Her wrinkled hands rested inside her maroon robe’s inner pocket, waiting to seize the brand-new baby girl.

Standard protocol called for all newborns to be taken to their assigned transporter and relocated. There they would live and train with the other hybrid children born that evening.

My Lady, do not ask this of me. The aged woman patted down the frizz in her bushy gray hair. Suppose I disregard King Jarret’s commands. His discipline shall be harsh. These enhanced children are valuable to all the kingdoms in Dragovin.

In these last nine months, the two women from different sectors formed a bond. The young royal grieved to ask her friend to disobey their king, but she had offered no alternatives.

The royal surrogate clung to the spellbinder’s soft pruned hand as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Lady Rose, please. You and Sir Redwood ignored my pleas for no sedation during my delivery. I beg of you, don’t deny me this remembrance. The young royal squeezed tighter. Let me look upon her, sketch an image of her face in my mind. Allow me to whisper my name in her ear and k–kiss her head and k–kiss her— the royal’s shaky voice sputtered, grasping the fact that her arms would nevermore embrace her child.

Lady Rose tugged free from the royal’s hand. Enough. With a huff, she smoothed out the creases in her droopy sleeves. All royal breeding females remain impassive toward their newborn, yet…you yearn for this child?

I do. The surrogate swallowed hard and bit back tears.

The spellbinder’s exhausted chestnut-brown eyes drifted over to the carved scrollwork designs on the headboard. See, this is the reason why royal women are forbidden to touch their newborns. Nonetheless, I condemned myself the moment I allowed you to embrace this child. Lady Rose pushed aside any thoughts of manipulating the royal’s emotions due to her friend’s weakened state.

The spellbinder drew a heavy sigh, watching tears glisten on her friend’s pale, heart-shaped face. She brushed the young girl’s long snowy white hair away from her dampened forehead. This being your first childbirth, I shall take into consideration your unexplainable irrational spirit and grant your request. This is contingent upon you relinquishing this newborn the instant I return.

My sweet darling, are you hearing this? The royal mother’s voice floated toward the blanketed bundle she cradled. Our moment has been extended.

Lady Rose crept onward, pressing her hardened sights toward her friend, already resenting her kindness. Do not make me regret my foolish decision.

I shall not, the royal said as her finger caressed the newborn’s yellow peach fuzz.

A tiny pink hand emerged from the silken cream cloth cocooning the baby girl. Her doll-sized hand squeezed the new mother’s thumb, causing the surrogate’s heavy heart to beat to a foreign melody.

My Lady, your maternal behavior, I dread, shall be both our misfortunes. The spellbinder’s thick gray brows creased with concern. I shall brew you a numbing tea to aid in erasing your desire for the child.

Lady Rose turned away and waved her hand in the air, opening the arched wooden door. She halted by an old-fashioned dark wooden dresser with thick curved iron legs. Stale blackened smoke lingering from a white candle nub sunk deep into its golden stand. The spellbinder snapped her fingers, replaced it, and sparked a flame to the new candle. Then, with a nod of approval, the old woman strolled out, shutting the door behind her.

The young mother drew her knees up and settled the baby on her thighs. The blanket she slowly unraveled exposed the most angelic sleeping face. The child’s tiny mouth fluttered, dreaming of mother’s milk.

Let’s see. Hmm… One, two… Five fingers on this small hand. Now, let’s count the left one. She gathered the other warm, thin arm. Five little fingers on this hand too.

After kissing all ten, the royal lifted the quilt’s edge, loving each tiny foot. And ten precious little toes. See, my sweet darling, you’re perfect. The tone in the new mother’s voice flowed as delicate as a thread of silk so as not to intrude upon the child’s slumber.

I can’t believe, merely a short moment ago, my womb nourished you, and now, here you rest. She licked her parched lips and kissed the child’s soft crown. All the kingdoms are counting on you to flourish as their savior. Although six enchanted babies were birthed that night, the prophecy only stated one child.

The royal’s thumb traced her baby’s flushed face into her subconsciousness until two small eyes peeked open, unveiling a unique color. The young mother gasped. They’re so, so…magnificent. Like two dazzling emeralds.

The baby’s tiny mouth stretched into a yawn. For the first time, the woman figured out the power of the prohibited word, love. Its energy consumed every part of her. She welcomed it but questioned why they disallowed royal females to engage in this tender, passionate warmth.

A thunderclap echoed from somewhere inside the castle. The mother flinched, startling the baby. Her adrenaline levels rose while scanning the areas in the room, hoping the gray stone walls were as durable as they appeared. A lightly swaying tapestry hovering near the large window added much-needed warmth to the desolate birthing chamber. She focused on the art’s detail, ignoring the dreadful thought of losing her daughter. The simple picture captured the beauty of a garden filled with lavender-colored flowers.

In the distance, the crashing sound grew louder, jolting the royal’s muscles and causing them to tense. She struggled to listen for the rumble once more, but her racing heart drumming against her ribs was too distracting. The mother held her quickened breath, laboring to monitor how close they were to the worrisome ruckus beyond the door.

The newborn fussed, lightly weeping. Shh… Don’t cry, please, the royal hushed, her nerves at full stretch, gently rocking the baby. As more rumbling roared past the room, her teary eyes shifted toward the closed door. Shh… She continued to whisper while her eardrums pulsed in a panic until silence engulfed the hallways.

All that commotion must be the guards searching for you. Before they claim you, I’ve chosen your name. Queen Jaydalynn’s going to change it, yet, within my soul, you shall forevermore be my darling Andelion. The tip of the mother’s nose swept the surface of the baby’s head, inhaling her sweet, intoxicating essence. They might numb my passion for you, yet they shall never erase your scent imprinted on my soul.

The royal mother brushed away the sadness from her honey-brown eyes and breathed in her daughter once more. Their time was drawing to an end. My darling Andelion, listen to my words. This love I endure for you shall eternally live within both our souls. Her cheerful spirits faded as she re-wrapped her daughter in the cocoon, gently pressing her lips across the baby’s velvety forehead.

When the door opens, and Lady Rose enters to take you—How shall I surrender you? A lump formed in the royal’s throat as she heard heavy footsteps stomping closer to the room.

The door shot open, blowing out the flames on all the candles. Falcon, a royal warrior, whirled in, stopping in the center of the room. He thrust back his disheveled black hair, the ends returning to the tips of his ears.

Fear of the unknown knotted and writhed in the young royal’s stomach. The warrior’s torn pants hung off his leg with slashes of claw marks marring his dark uniform. Panic twisted into nausea when she saw speckles of red covering his pale skin.

My Lady, he began, his hand stained with blood extended out, you must come with me at once.

Falcon, what are you doing here? She pressed the child closer to her chest. Why is there blood on you? Where is Lady Rose? Before he could grant a response, squeals of terror exploded in the corridor.

A breach in the castle’s protection wards has occurred. The west wing is under attack. Lady Rose sent me here to defend you and the newborn. We must evacuate this child immediately.

The mother’s spine stiffened. Wait! What about the other newborns? We must rescue them too, she cried, focusing on the open door as he closed it. The howling of wolves pricked the woman’s skin with fright as the outcries of torture intensified. Horror mixed with evil was closing in on them.

My orders are to save the two of you, nobody else. Swiftly, My Lady, we must leave now.

The warrior removed the baby from the mother’s shaky limbs. The fear she had only read about in books engulfed her being as she saw her life collapsing. She couldn’t process what the towering male said, nor did she have the strength to lock horns with him. The care for her daughter ached deep within her soul, but her child was safer in Falcon’s muscular arms.

The royal gradually wiggled to the bed’s edge and slid off, her bare feet crashing onto the cold stone floor. Ow! she screeched.

At a sluggish pace, the mother limped toward the closed window where the warrior waited with Andelion nestled close to his vigorous chest, protected in his sturdy arms. Agony laced throughout the young woman’s weakened body with every step she inched. After birthing the baby only hours ago, her exhausted muscles cramped, decreasing any stamina she had left. The mother strained to keep her trembling lips from releasing any more moaning cries.

My Lady, I realize your discomfort, yet you must quicken your pace.

You try squeezing a melon out from down there and see how fast you walk, she snapped.

His blue eyes enlarged from her unconventional response. My apologies. I meant no disrespect.

Burbling a few baby noises, Andelion refocused the royal to not waste her strength on a wrathful temper. With every step, she dragged her feet, holding her burning stomach tighter.

My Lady, you’re doing great, Falcon said, coaxing her with positivity.

Doors slamming in the distance pushed the sore mother to move faster. She bit down on her tongue, restraining herself from screaming. The excruciating throb sharpened in strength, making her feel like a slow dying deer arrowed in the gut.

Then, something warm raced down the woman’s inner thighs, compelling her to stop. Blood soiled her cotton nightgown as Falcon’s fangs emerged from his gums.

Vampire, I pray your thirst is under control for both our sakes, she said.

The hemorrhaging persisted in trickling down her legs while she limped, blubbering uncontrollable whimpers. How can I flee the castle when I can’t even make it to the window?

Silence. Shh… Falcon whispered, putting his finger to his puckered lips.

Several rooms apart from them, the uproar of destruction moved closer, lessening their chances of escaping. The realization of the role she must play for her daughter to prevail weighed heavily on the royal, understanding that the child’s fate outweighed her own.

I’m the sacrifice, she uttered.

What? The vampire raised an eyebrow.

Falcon, pay attention, she whispered with a tinge of sternness. Leave me and take Baby Andelion to safety. As you can see, I’m in no condition to flee. I shall only slow you down.

My Lady? He tilted his head and inched closer to her.

She must survive to fulfill the prophecy. Promise me you’ll keep her safe. The young royal snagged Falcon’s torn shirt, yanking him closer. Promise me, warrior!

I promise. Falcon stroked her warm cheek with a tenderness most vampires lacked. His cool touch sent goosebumps all over her skin, but she disregarded the sensation.

Go on. I’ll divert them. The royal shoved him toward the window. Go! She looked one last time at the child’s angelic face and felt an acute sense of loss. Death waited around the corner. So, for the love of her daughter and Dragovin, the young mother braced herself for the wolves to burst through the door and attack.

Once more, Falcon stroked the side of her heated face. One would be a fool to feed such a beautiful soul to the wolves. He lifted the mother’s chin to meet his sensual blue eyes. And…I am no fool.

The vampire pulled her into his arm as he cradled the baby with his other. Then he kicked the glass until it shattered and leaped into the night sky.

Chapter 1

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

When Mom starts to hear voices, we pack up and move. This whole packing and moving and unpacking became a standard annoying ritual for our little family of three long ago. I gave up counting after reaching home number twenty several years ago.

We drove from the Peach State to the Orange State, traveling southbound on interstate I-95. What a great way to spend my seventeenth birthday, stuffed in the backseat for a long, boring car ride. I either saw rows of orange groves stretching out for miles or grazing cows in the open fields.

Let’s get off at this exit for gas, Henry said, pushing his black comb-over away from his wire-framed glasses. The next stop after that is forty miles away.

Dad married Mom thirteen years ago. I forget, sometimes, Henry’s not my actual father. Strange enough, he prefers that I call him by his first name, but sometimes in those crazy moments, Dad slips off my tongue.

While our sky-blue Ford clunker curved onto Main Street, I stared out the window, envious of the world my parents sheltered me from. I saw laughing kids riding their bicycles, a family of five tossing a frisbee, and a young couple sitting on a park bench sharing an ice cream cone.

Will that ever be me? I uttered at the glass.

At a red light, I leaned my forehead against the window and stared at a bunch of high school girls cheering on a team of boys shooting hoops. I wish, for just one day, I could be one of those girls.

Back on the highway, Mom handed me a magazine. While I read, lying on my back, a wave of nausea hit me, followed by a pounding headache. Through the window, sunlight streamed straight into my eyes. When I twisted onto my side, my mouth began to water.

Pull over! I yelled. I’m going to throw up.

Henry quickly stopped on the side of the road, and thankfully, only the cows were fortunate enough to witness me hurling my guts out. Mom tied my blonde hair away from my face while I dry heaved. My knotted stomach cramped tighter. Dad wiped my mouth with a napkin, telling me to relax and breathe. Once my belly tank was empty, he carried all ninety-eight pounds of me back to the car.

Mom’s soft hand touched my forehead. She’s burning up. Henry, what do we do? My daughter has never been sick a day in her life. Strange, but true, for every friggin’ single cell in my runty muscles ached, and boy did it suck. We need to take Andie to a doctor. Fear coated her voice.

Really? And who did you have in mind, Sanora? Dr. Redwood? Henry said with a sneer.

As bad as I felt, I couldn’t help wondering what was up with the sarcasm smothering his voice. And who the heck’s Dr. Redwood?

Seriously, Henry, you’re mocking me at a time like this? Mom pulled the hair tie from around her thin wrist, twisting her dark brown hair into a messy bun. And no, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.

Stop fighting, both of you, I moaned. Mom, I’m fine. Too much fast food, that’s all. The last thing I needed was her getting all paranoid. I didn’t have the strength to help her through one of her episodes.

Henry kissed my head. We’re not fighting, Pumpkin Pie, he said and closed my door. The engine roared, and we were back on the road.

The restaurant poisoned Andie’s food to slow us down. I just know it. Mom scanned the view outside the car’s windows twice while mumbling to herself.

Mom, will you please chill out?

Henry took her delicate, trembling hand and kissed it gently. My darling, let’s not jump to conclusions. There’s no one following us.

Are you certain? she asked, popping a pill into her mouth.

Yes. I’m certain the Big Mac and fries just didn’t agree with her, he said while changing lanes.

Stop talking about food, or I’ll spew all over the backseat. I gagged, swallowing the rising greasy bile.

Throughout the night, while Henry drove, Mom made many efforts to comfort me, but I continued to push her away. My shivering body preferred that no one touch it.

By the time we arrived at our final destination, the sky held a rosy tinge to it, with the sun peeping out from the east. Finally, the motion of the car ended. My parents caved into my moaning wishes and left me balled up in the backseat as they met with the property owner. The last noise I heard before entering sleepyville was the squeaky cranks of windows opening.

I woke in a vast field of sunflowers stretching over endless miles. The sun shined overhead as a warm breeze guided me to a mossy green path. In the distance, the full moon glowed in the darkness as I stood under a clear blue sky.

Whoa, this place is super dope, I uttered, noticing the sunflower field was split into day and night.

A tall shadowy figure spawned in a grassy clearing under the moon, transformed into a muscular man dressed as an ancient dark clothed warrior. Could he be the devil or…an angel?

The moment the vigorous man’s gaze locked with mine, he withdrew his sword and paused, appearing ready to attack. Most would have run screaming for their lives. Instead, I smiled, sensing no danger but… Protection?

How do I show him I come in peace? While struggling with a prickly stem, the four-foot sunflower released, jerking me to the ground. I quickly got to my feet, held the flower close to my chest, and grinned, ignoring my humiliating klutziness. The warrior lowered his sword and tilted his head.

Did his gorgeous body match his pale face? I squinted as the wind blew, spreading his sleek dark hair straight across my answer. While smoothing down my blonde mess, the scent of my favorite candle, Cashmere Woods, filled the air. I drew in the spicy wood aroma, triggering my heart’s rhythm to flutter with passion.

The confusion smothering my mind numbed as a shiver of desire drew me to this stranger like a magnet. From the pull of blissful strings, I walked forward, clutching the sunflower’s bristled stem, not questioning why I headed straight for the mysterious warrior standing underneath the full moon. Before I crossed over the threshold into night, a beam of white light illuminated, blinding me into darkness coated with peace, sending my body floating like a balloon.

I awakened in the backseat of the car with the afternoon sun shining on my face. With a huff, I peeled myself off the tan vinyl seat. Beads of sweat gathered between my barely grown breasts, gluing my cotton bra to my chest. So gross.

After a few deep yawns, I slumped my elbows against the front seats, peering into the rearview mirror. You look like a total trainwreck, I muttered to myself, picking off chunks of damp hair stuck to my skin. A pinkish imprint of the vinyl stitching lined my bony cheek, adding to the disaster.

Through the windshield, I saw fields of wheat dancing with the breeze. Where are the sunflowers? Where’s the warrior and the moon? I fell back into the seat, bummed the hot guy was merely a wonderful dream.

With the sleeve of my gray hoodie, I wiped the dampness from my forehead. My unusual fever had disappeared, along with the queasiness. Only a dull headache lingered. I licked my dry lips, my breath reeking of puke. Rummaging through our stockpile, I found a bottle of water and drank slowly, nervous I’d barf again.

Outside, a refreshing breeze tingled and dried my clamminess away. I glanced around, and after spotting my parents talking with a short, husky man up ahead, I started toward them.

Hey, I said, leaning against Henry’s slender body. He wrapped his arms around me and winked at Mom.

Jeff, allow me to introduce to you our daughter, Andie, he said to the middle-aged man wearing a stained white shirt and dirty denim overalls. Dad stood like an NBA giant next to this guy.

Hi there, Mr. Jeff. I smiled at the farmer. It’s nice to meet you.

Howdy there, pretty little lady. The guy removed his tan cowboy hat. Hmm… I expected you to have a bit of an English accent, like your parents. He scratched his bald head.

She was born in the United States. Henry went on to explain how my parents grew up in Europe, yet never met until he moved to America.

So, little teenybopper, how old are you? Jeff asked.

Henry nudged my elbow. I just turned seventeen yesterday, I said, leaving out my puking festival of fun.

Good Lord. Same age as my niece. There are two theories to arguin’ with a sassy teenager, he went on with a laugh, and neither one works. The man patted Dad’s shoulder. Good luck there, Henry. You’ll surely need it. And a baseball bat to beat the boys away from your beautiful daughter. Now, which side of the family blessed her with those green beauties?

Her eye color comes from her father’s side, Mom quickly replied.

Ha! Was the woman sure? Mom never talked about my biological father, who, according to her, died in a car crash when she was pregnant with me. But a while back, I searched through her personal stuff for any clues leading to her mystery man. After finding zippo, no photos, or memorabilia, or any proof behind her stories, I came to the conclusion that I might be the result of a one-night-stand. I’ve often wondered, did my green eyes and blonde hair come from Mr. Quickie? Was he dorky like Henry or suave like James Bond? Whatever the truth is, Mom should tell me instead of acting all weird and uncomfortable whenever I bring up the subject.

Henry turned to me. Andie, while you napped, Jeff was kind enough to give us an exclusive tour of the ranch his grandfather built.

In the distance, long blades of grass bowed to the passing breeze. Are there any sunflower fields nearby? I asked, still sensing, somehow, my dream had been real.

Nope, the farmer said, adjusting his cowboy hat. Sorry, little lady. But you can plant all the seeds you want. He gripped the straps on his overalls.

The landlord yapped on and on about his grandfather raising pigs, chickens, and horses. Then, one day, Jeff found the old man dead by a bundle of hay inside the barn, the body already decomposing.

Eww, mega gross! I stared at the rickety and faded red wooden building behind the main house as haunting images flooded my thoughts.

After the farmer drove away, Henry kissed my forehead. Sanora, she is as cool as a cucumber. He gently lifted my chin. How’s my little Pumpkin Pie feeling?

Much better.

Thank goodness. Mom yanked me into a bear hug, saying how frightened she’d been.

The instant I wiggled free from her tightened arms, I stepped closer to the levelheaded parent. Yo, Henry, this ranch is totally awesome. How did you manage to budget for this place? Did another long-distance uncle die?

Good gracious, no, Mom answered in a high-pitched tone.

The government recently increased your mum’s Social Security disability check. Henry smiled, gliding his finger along the dusty rose of her cheeks. My dearest Sanora, what arrival time did the moving company say?

If they’re on time, they’ll be here in three hours.

That’s a big if, I mumbled.

Come, my lovely wife, let’s give Andie the extensive tour she missed. I have a wonderful feeling about this place.

Me too, Mom said, grinning from ear to ear. Oh, and wait till you see this massive bush growing the most gorgeous red roses.

Maybe this time, the woman’s mental demons will stay quiet, but I won’t hold my breath.

As we walked toward the pastel-green house, Mom raved about the southern charm it had. She adored the white wrap-around porch as I commented on the peaceful way the hanging ivory benches swayed. The ranch sat on forty acres of open pastures, miles and miles away from people. No shocker there. My parents always rented places far away from everyone.

Now tell me, aren’t these red roses magnificent? But watch out for the thorns, she warned, breathing in their sweet fragrance.

Henry touched my shoulder. Andie, why the long face? Has your nausea returned?

Nope. I sighed. It’s just… The flowers remind me of Grannie Rosie.

I was four the last time I saw her. I cried for months, heartbroken because of the distance between us. Before Henry, Mom was lonely. She only had me and Grannie Rosie, our landlord who babysat during Mom’s shifts at the restaurant or when she went all cuckoo.

This sweet old lady clunked around with a crooked wooden cane, her short gray curls bobbing with each step. She replaced the grandparents who died before I was born.

A few years back, I asked if we could plan a trip to visit her. I missed my nanny’s spiritual view of the world and her creative bedtime stories. But Mom shouted out a quick no, stating the old lady had died years ago. My heart still held resentment for them not telling me sooner, like when it actually happened.

Mom released the rose. I miss Grannie Rosie too, she whispered, her willowy body embracing me. Come, let me show you the house.

Andie, what was with the sunflower question earlier? Dad asked, walking between us. I told them about my weird, sweet dream, and they eyeballed each other.

Great, what are they hiding this time?

Chapter 2

THE HAUNTED BARN

After we unpacked our boxes and the dust settled, Henry allowed me to explore the barn. From the outside, the term hazardous tapped into my judgment. But did it stop me from parading onward? Heck no. My curiosity’s forceful energy shifted me forward, as the tall grass tickled my skimming hand. I plucked the longest blade grooving in the wind and munched on its sweetness.

The weathered red wooden building lacked warmth, with its warped double doors hanging half-open, enough for a thin person to slip through. A pile of old hay, with a rusty pitchfork stuck in the center, lay against the flaking painted wall. Flies buzzed around as a hint of manure lingered in the air. My hands glided up and down my denim overall straps, debating if I should enter the eerie barn.

A strange tingling crept farther into my skull, accompanied by fear. It felt as if something chased me, but my size-six yellow Crocs remained settled on the ground. How bizarre. Why am I frightened all of a sudden?

Seeking higher ground, I leaped onto the uneven wooden fence and straddled it for balance. Why couldn’t I shake this weird vibe? My heart pumped faster, scanning the field, spotting nothing unusual.

With a drawn-out sigh, I rested my palm on the buckled wood. What’s up with my gut’s skittishness?

A sweet chorus of birdsong filled the humid air as I glanced around the property again. And like before, I saw no one. Seconds later, the wooden rail creaked, my body stiffened, and I prayed the rotting boards didn’t snap with me on it. At the pace of a sloth, I lifted myself and swung my legs off the fence, snagging my pants on a few splinters.

Crap, I grumbled, examining my denim cactus butt.

After carefully removing the wooden needles, the strange tingle in my head returned. When I realized I could track it, the energy brought me straight to the barn’s entrance.

I inched closer until a large wasp nest hanging in the corner stopped me. It appeared vacant, as did the tattered webs with dust and dirt stuck in them. Oh, go on, you big sissy, my inner voice teased, and with shaky knees, I pussyfooted ahead, stepping sideways through the gap in the broken double doors.

The floorboards squeaked beneath my feet as my anxiety mingled with the mysterious fear that grew within me. Despite the musty stink of manure in the barn, I took a quick scan of the area. Natural light filtered through two square open skylights, casting faint beams across the dim interior. A few nasty, thick, whitish spider cocoons hung in the dark corners. Dirty old straws of hay coated the floor, with several flat nail heads sticking out of the boards.

Henry seriously considered this place safe? Yeah, with a big tetanus shot in one hand and band-aids in the other.

The spooky loft on the upper level, with no visible ladder, sheltered a variety of shadows. Underneath were empty horse stalls where worn-out rusty buckets hung. Pieces of wooden slabs dividing the stalls lay fallen from neglect. If only we could buy this place. We could fix it up for homeless pets or injured ani—

What the? I took a quick sharp breath. Did I just hear a muffled voice, a faint whisper by the shadowy stalls? I rubbed my sweaty palms against my baggy overalls. Hello? I announced into the hollowness of the barn. Is anybody there?

Was someone playing a practical joke? It couldn’t be Henry. The guy was way too predictable. He can’t even play a game of poker without smirking, so hiding anything from me was pointless. Then there’s Mom, which was a joke within itself.

The tingle in my brain grew into a painless, prickly sensation, the weird sound reducing to silence. I looked around for anybody or anything hiding inside the barn. A gust of wind whispered through a broken window, causing the door to creak. I gasped as my heartstrings jerked tight.

It’s just the wind, I uttered.

I moved closer to the stalls, listening for the faint call again, but all I heard was the scuffling of my shoes. Argh, stupid Crocs. I kicked the hay away, exposing the grimy floor. With a grunt, I overlooked its nastiness and plopped my bottom on it. Quiet and still, I sat, waiting to discover who owned this low-pitched voice.

Time ticked by, and the strange sound faded. Did I imagine it? Was this the early stage of schizophrenia? Thoughts clocked in on Mom’s wild fits of paranoia. I sighed, resting my chin on my knee. Only one more year until I—Shit, how can I go to college and live on campus? What if I end up crazy like her?

Hhheeellpp.

I tilted my head to the squeal-like sound my mind captured and nibbled on my bottom lip.

Hhheeellpp.

This time, I didn’t question my sanity. Except why did my mind hear the murmur and not my ears? Could it be my inner voice I heard? No way. This unknown voice sounded way different from my own brain’s tuneful tone.

Hhhelllllp. It repeated with each call getting louder.

A bunch of paranormal creatures from books invaded my thoughts. H–hello? I c–can’t un–understand you.