If I didn't already have enough questions swirling in my head, now I'm definitely lost. The murders, the Figure, Sam and his crew, the Guardians, the voice, the Well. Violet started keeping a notebook, scribbling down every bit of information, hoping that one day this whole thing might make sense.
Since the incident the day before yesterday, I can hardly sleep without being jolted awake by dreams of screams, blood, the forest, and the silhouettes of upside-down triangles. This is one of the reasons why neither Violet nor I went to school yesterday, though Alex insisted on keeping an eye on Sam. I'm drowning in a dark whirlpool of fear and confusion, and I can't tell whether I'm completely losing my mind or if this is really happening.
Despite this, I have to pretend that everything is perfectly fine, otherwise, I risk raising someone's suspicion. That's exactly why I put on the most indifferent face as I walk through the hallways, where more students than usual are gathered. I never thought anyone could be this interested in a school play, but who am I to judge? Violet clings tightly to my backpack as I try to push through the sea of people in the most effective way possible. The only reason I'm here is Alex and his surprisingly good acting skills.
My whole day felt like a dream; I can't really tell the difference between reality and the words, shapes, and touches hallucinated in a half-awake state. That's why I'm really hoping that today's performance will be enjoyable enough to distract me from all this "The Foremother has seen you, child," and "Welcome to the Guardians, Dreamer Deniece!" nonsense so I can finally relax.
Since Moonhill grew from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere into a relatively small town, there's only one high school for all the youth, which means it's nearly impossible to get through these four years unnoticed. That's exactly why if someone has been hated since elementary school, the chances of that changing in the future are pretty slim.
"Oops!" Giggles the demon standing in front of me, otherwise known as Lily Kenzie, with that obnoxious voice of hers. A moment ago, I felt the unpleasant cold radiating from one of the brick walls when she 'accidentally' bumped me into it with her shoulder. If I didn't know better, I'd grab her dirty blonde hair right here and smash her into the floor. But I have to leave her neatly curled locks alone because there are too many witnesses. What a shame. "Next time, watch where you're going!"
I've learned to handle her constant bullying, which has been going on for almost seven years, but today I'm not in the mood to let her words just fly past my ears. She only curses me with her presence because she's never managed to get a reaction out of me. She'll get a reaction...
"It's pointless," Violet whispers in my ear as she drags me toward the crowd. Despite this, I'm still staring at her as she struts away smugly, flanked by her so-called friends. Violet's grip tightens on my forearm, and it's only then that I realize my hand is clenched into a fist. If she hadn't intervened, I would have definitely gone after her.
I briefly smile at the thought. Thanks to that brat, we'll be among the last to enter the auditorium. It's as if more fuel has been thrown onto the fire of my anger. I have no idea why, but Lily got under my skin more than usual today, even though she pulls this stunt every day. My eyebrows knit together as a familiar yet strange tingling sensation creeps over my body. Maybe it's because of the events of the past two days, but I'd give anything to somehow get back at her.
A piercingly familiar scream fills the ears of those entering the auditorium, plunging the entire room into silence. Unintentionally, I push forward through the crowd and see Lily crouching on the floor, clutching her ankle, while her three friends surround her in a panic, trying to help her up. Whoever tripped her so badly deserves nothing but thanks from me. That's when I catch sight of a vine retracting into the soil of a potted plant in the corner, eerily similar to the one that wrapped around Sam's leg two days ago. My throat tightens as I momentarily forget to breathe. What the hell? I was convinced that these magic vines, or whatever the hell they are, only appeared in the forest during near-death experiences. This messes up a lot of my calculations. Next time, I'll force answers out of you, Agnes! Whether you like it or not.
YOU ARE READING
The Figure
ParanormalSixteen-year-old Deniece Johnson is almost perfectly sure that she's completely gone insane. In the small town where she lives, a bloodthirsty killer has been hunting young people aged twelve to twenty over the past six months. What could be worse t...
