Supernatural Utopia

Preface

Never would I have anticipated the series of events that were about to unravel. If you would have told me 6 months ago that my mother was missing, I wouldn't have believed you. If you would have told me that I'd be risking my life for a guy, I definitely wouldn't have believed you. And if you told me I was most likely about to die, I'd have told you to lay off the drugs since you're obviously high out your mind.

Given the chance, would I go back to a time when things were simple? For my mother, I would do anything. But strangely enough, I would do anything for him as well. It's crazy how a few months can alter the outcome of your entire life.

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"Symone.  You are such a bright and beautiful young lady, and I am forever proud to be your mother.  You have given me life, a purpose.  Never ever forget your worth.  Trust your instincts and you will go far.  But remember, hold everyone at arm's length, you can't trust anyone in this world.  Please, don't end up like me..."  Her arm reached out to me.  I tried to grab it, but she drifted farther and farther away.  "No mom, don't go!" I tried to chase her, but my feet were glued to the ground, sinking into the murky quick sand.  "Mom, please don't leave me," I called, falling to my sinking deeper and deeper into my own desperation.  But she continued to drift away until there was nothing but my outstretched hand reaching into the imminent darkness.    

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The familiar dream visited me again. A lucid reoccurring dream that I often have of my mother, and it always leaves me feeling hollow and broken inside. But it always ends the same way. 'Maybe next time it will end differently' is my internal mantra every time. It's the only hint of optimism that I'm able to grasp, and it's slowly slipping through the cracks.  The bright sun crept in as my eyes opened, allowing the light to slip through my dark lashes. The breeze was blowing wildly, causing the trees to sashay in an intricate dance.

After wiping the thin layer of morning dew from my brow, I maneuvered slightly, rubbing the pain from my lower back as I stretched the sleep out my limbs. Park benches are only so comfortable when old newspapers and magazines are used as padding.

I looked up through sleep filled eyes, finally realizing that I wasn't alone. A tall man was gazing down at me, his gaze calculating as his fingers grazed the stubble of his chin.  His hair was jet black and gelled down, not a stray hair was out of place.  His suit hung tightly to his body, perfectly tailored for his tall and lanky body. 

A light blue tie hung loosely around his neck.  His shirt hung freely, overlapping his black slacks.  Though his presentation looked messy, power still emanated from him.   

Come to think of it, his appearance wasn't bad for a middle aged man.  But what was he doing staring at me?  My skin began to crawl as his eyes continued their perusal of my body. "Yes?" I asked, not trying to hide the annoyance in my tone.   

He blinked a few times when he realized I was staring back at him.   Hastily, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a rectangular card.  He extended his arm toward me, card in hand.  

I sat up from the park bench, combed through my long, curly tresses haphazardly, ignoring the tangles, then took the card from his hand.   

"I'm Ethan, a counselor at Clifton Preparatory School" he began.  He spoke slowly, articulating each word carefully. Very much like the middle-aged businessman he appeared to be.