Midnight Cove

Chapter One: A Brush with Death

With ticking time this tale is told,
Upon this earth the young turn old,
Innocent blood like tears are shed,
Two kindred souls bound for dead;
With their pasts made present and their future unclear.

Only the weight of the terrible memories gave me the strength to leave. I saw my wings reflected in the mirror—delicate, otherworldly— and at last, I surrendered to the truth: I was never the human girl I pretended to be. Magick had spared me from the happiest day of my life, and now I wept, shattered and small, on the cold bathroom floor.

My wings vanished again—how, why...I could not say. But what did it matter? The fragile hope I carried for the future dissolved like breath against winter air. The horizon ahead was dark and formless, no more imaginable than the cruel twists that had led me here. I was a stranger adrift, lost in a sea of shifting fate. All that remained was the sour stench of the toilet beside me, the black wedding dress clinging to my skin like mourning silk, and the bleeding pulse of memories that refused to let me go.

I won't pretend it wasn't worth it—though the price was steep. If I could steal but one more breath with him, I would suffer it all again. I would risk everything for one kiss, one glance, one touch—to let his fingertips trace the ruins of my soul.

I am getting ahead of myself. Let me take you back to that final summer—my last season of borrowed innocence. How many years have slipped by since, I can no longer say. But I remember the way the air trembled, as if the world itself held its breath, waiting for the exhale that would shatter my life in two. It was the moment before the unraveling—suspended between innocence and the unknown. The beginning of everything, and the unseen hand that would tear it all apart.

I don't remember my parents—death claimed them before I was old enough to hold onto their faces. My sister filled the hole they left, carrying the weight they abandoned. For years, I convinced myself it was enough. Then she was gone too. The doctors called it heart failure, as if naming it could bring sense to something so senseless. One morning, she simply didn't wake, and I was left sitting in a world that barely seemed to know I was there.

At first, I didn't want to remember—grief made even the sweetest memories feel like salt in an open wound. Buy as the days stretched on, it became harder for a different reason: the small details began slipping away. The sound of her laughter, the curve of her handwriting, the way she would hum softly whenever she felt nervous—they all frayed at the edges, growing thin and translucent like fading shadows. I wrote about her in my journal, afraid that one day there might be nothing left but empty spaces where she once existed. And in her absence, I was forced to carry on alone, cradling the hollow shape she left behind.

Life was more good days than bad though. I was proud of my place. I had cultivated a safe space to grow and heal. A place filled with sunlight and simple happiness. I lived in a strange studio apartment above a garage; a quaint and clean space with a view of Coast Highway and the beach.

My studio and my work were both there, in Encinitas. I worked six days a week at a drive-thru coffee shop. My shift usually ended by eleven o'clock in the morning, and I enjoyed having the afternoons to myself. With my simple, white-washed doors opened wide, I liked to lie on the floor, and bask in the glorious warmth of the afternoon sunlight; the feeling of smooth bamboo floors under my skin.

My place was separated from the main house by the backyard. An older gentleman, Terry, owned the place. He liked to surf, and kept mostly to himself so I was free to be at peace. Here, I would amble through the beautiful garden filled with luscious ferns and fragrant flowers.

The town, like my apartment, was bright and warm. Filled with a laid-back, welcoming aura that many of these small, funky beach towns have here in Southern California. Huge windows faced the beach and when opened caught the salty sea breeze. I loved the free-flowing beauty that constantly surrounded me. It was almost easy to be happy when I was there. I didn't have to try as hard.