From Death to Life- Book One

Ch. 1-Visions of a Monster

"You flicker. I cannot touch you. I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns." Sylvia Plath, Poppies in July.

***

They're coming for you. Those are the four words that spoke in my mind for weeks now, wondering who the hell they are and what they want from me. I slammed my book shut as the voice spoke louder now. He is coming for you tonight! Watch your back. It was a voice unlike my own. I believed I was going insane. Probably. With a shaky breath, I nudged my best friend, who sat beside me on the counter. "What do you want now, Elora Miller?" he questioned, his leg covering my own and a book in his hand. Jax worked in a bookstore in downtown New Orleans and it was the only building that had exceptional air conditioning. "I can close this store right now and you're interrupting a great part of my book."

"I heard another voice," I uttered. "This one was different."

Jax closed the book and locked eyes with me, his dark green staring into my golden ones. He was always joking, but with this, these voices in my head, he was dead serious. It was one of the many reasons I loved him so much. "What did it say this time?"

He waited for me to speak, to tell him what I heard in my head. But how could I? How could I tell my best friend who I have known since we were children that some man is coming for me? That I need to look out for myself. What if the man hurts Jax? I do not know what I would do with myself if Jax was gone from this world. It would be my fault. "That you're a dick," I muttered.

Jax whipped his head back and started laughing as tears fell from his eyes. I laughed with him to keep the thoughts out of my head; the paranoia climbing its way to the surface. "Elora, you made me close my book for such a cruel joke?" he smiled now. "It looks like you're turning into me."

"Now why would I want to be anyone else, Jax?" I raised an eyebrow, gently placing the book beside me. "When my hair doesn't cover my eyes like yours?."

He stared, serious as ever again. "Stop fucking with me. I'll cut my hair when the world ends and you know damn well that will never happen, the gorgeous blond locks are staying put." Jax hopped off of the counter as I did the same, tilting his head to the side. "You should get going. You don't want Margot to worry."

I rolled my eyes, letting him kick me out of the bookstore so he could close. Sometimes Jax would get in these moods where he didn't want anyone to bother him. Even me. It any did not bother me more than I used to because I understood. Ever since his mom left him with his abusive father and my parents dying, both of us had to learn to survive our traumas in our way. It was me and him now and it will always be. "Fine, but I'm buying this book before I head out," I stated, handing him a collection of poems by Sylvia Plath that I was reading earlier. Jax said nothing as he rang me up and I handed him money from my wallet. He printed the receipt and took out a pen suddenly and I knew he was back to comedian Jax, only for a few seconds at least. He scribbled on the piece of paper and, knowing him for years now, I knew it was something inappropriate. "C'mon now, what are you writing, Jax?" I smiled.

I leaned closer to see, but he covered the paper before I could. Jax put the pen down, opened the book's first page, and slid the receipt between the pages. "Don't look at it until you leave here," he demanded, closing the book and handing it to me again.

I picked up the book and held it with one arm, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why?" I questioned. "That seems highly suspicious. What, are we being watched right now?"

"Please, for your best friend, don't look at it until you get home," he pouted. I moved a strand of hair out of my face before letting out a small laugh. It was Jax and only Jax that could make me laugh again after my parents' deaths. Two years ago since it happened and yet, it seems like yesterday. The grief is still there in my heart, missing them every day, but I try to focus on other things. Jax, my aunt Margot, college, and books. Four things in my life that are constant, that I believe will never die like they did.