Ariella's biggest desire in life has always been such a simple one. She wants to be 'normal.' Unfortunately, that one simple wish has never been within her grasp. Coming from a long line of witches is bad enough, but she's even more different than t...
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I heard Everett and Cal behind me as I stepped through the doorway, able to keep up with me better than the others. I threw up a barrier across the door before any of them could follow me in. As my eyes scanned my surroundings, I pressed my back to the wall beside the door and slid to the floor, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.
Gripping my hair in my hands, I pulled at it roughly, ignoring the sting it caused. I vaguely heard voices calling my name, but I was too far inside my head to respond even if I wanted to. Finally, my uncle's voice managed to break through.
"Ari, let me in. Just me. I know what's wrong," he said gently.
I dropped the shield just long enough for him to step through before I slammed it back into place. I didn't want the others in there. They could all see me, but they couldn't crowd me while I fell apart on the floor.
"Not again... Not again," I mumbled to myself, ignoring the way my head spun and my stomach cramped.
The scene had too much in common with the night my parents were killed. The blood splatter to the left of the door, the pool of blood right outside the entryway to the living room, even the single bloody handprint on the wall below the stairs.
The déjà vu was causing images of the past to mix with what was in front of me, making me unsure of which scene I was seeing at each given moment. My stomach turned violently, fighting to purge its contents, but I fought it back.
I knew if it was indeed the same, then a body would be in the living room, but I couldn't force myself to get up and look. My muscles refused to cooperate.
Uncle Ben kneeled down in front of me, firmly gripping my shoulders. "Ari, I need you to pull it together for me. You can't lose it. Not right now." He scanned our surroundings, his own disbelief evident. He couldn't believe what he saw any more than I could. He looked back at me with sad eyes. "This isn't your parents' house, Ari. This is now. Whoever did this clearly wanted to mess with your head."
I nodded numbly, agreeing with him. I already knew that. It wasn't possibly a coincidence. The scene was purposely recreated with incredible attention to detail. I couldn't find anything different besides the paint color on the walls and the flooring since it was a different house, but the blood... the blood was a replica of that night. The broken pictures hanging crooked on the wall under the stairs- though the images were different, the scene was the same.
I stuck my head between my knees and took a couple deep breaths, attempting to gather the courage for what I knew I needed to do next. Tears were already running down my cheeks as if they'd already accepted what was about to happen. I used the wall to push myself to my feet, taking a step towards the living room.
Uncle Ben reached for my hand, trying to stop me. "I'll look, Ari," he said, seeing in my eyes that I was already breaking.
I shook my head, pulled my arm free, and took another step towards the opening that led to the living room. I paused before turning the corner, attempting to brace myself for what I expected to see. Taking that final step, I rounded the corner and bent forward. Hands on my knees, I gasped in rapid breaths, once again unable to believe what I was seeing.
