Shards of Blue Glass

Hiding

Saira's POV

I wait for my turn to go onstage. The assistant standing next to me titters nervously, looking down at her shoes. I can still sense her gaze go to my scarred arms, though, which are folded across my chest.

    Zak stands somewhere backstage, in a room reserved for the family of interviewees. It must be weird, watching someone else ask personal questions about past experiences. I joked with him about it, which he simply said was normal, considering he lives with me.

    I hear my name, and the assistant pushes me forwards. I wave to the crowd, which stands, applauding. I walk over to Ellen, whose short, pale blonde hair is instantly familiar. I give her a hug, then sit when she sits.

    "So, Saira, how's life?" Ellen asks, and I smile. "Very good. It couldn't be better," I answer. Ellen laughs, and says,"Alright then. How's your Paranormal Host career? Tired of being scared out of your wits yet?"

Paranormal Host is the show my group, the Paranormeon Crew, hosts. It’s on Travel Channel, and apparently interests people. As someone who’s always been able to see spirits, it doesn’t interest me as much as others.

    I laugh now, and say,"No. The ghosts are friendly enough. It's the people you have to watch out for." Everyone laughs, and I keep smiling, even though my social anxiety and self-hate is rising up within me.

    Ellen laughs and says,"So, I heard you got proposed to in front of millions of viewers during an episode. How'd you feel about that?" I laugh, trying to ease my nerves, and say,"Well, it was obviously a surprise. The guys were all in on it, yet I had no clue. I was about to hit Zak, for his stupidity at surprising me, since I hate surprises. Which is kinda ironic, given my job."

    Ellen smiles, then asks a question I never thought I'd hear. "So, Saira. A lot of people have noticed that for the past few months you've been wearing T-shirts. This shows off your, ah, collection of scars on your arms. May I ask why you decided to show your arms so suddenly?"

    I blink, then look down at my arms and smile slightly. "It was after the Kire Mansion episode a few months back. To be completely honest, I was in a very dark place after that episode. I, uh, tried to kill myself the next night. Luckily, though, I had Zak with me. He pulled me back from the edge. After that, I chose to show my scars. I wouldn't hide anymore, because hiding almost cost me my life."

    I trail off at the end, my mind half lost in memories of blood and water and salty tears. Ellen nods, bringing me back to myself.

    "Well, onto happier topics shall we? You and Zak are engaged, correct? How does it feel to work with your fiance?" Ellen asks, leaning forward with a mischievous smile. I smile back, and say,"It actually works out quite well. Working together makes it easier for us to understand what the other goes through, and ways we can cope with our hardships along the way come a lot easier. It does have its setbacks, though. The crew all make jokes about it. All in all, though, it's great."

    Ellen smiles, then turns toward the camera in the crowd. "Well, here she is, folks: Saira Collings, ghost hunter. Next up we have an incredibly talented young boy, and after that we get a little music. See you after the break," she says, and the light on the camera turns off.

    Everyone stands and applauds as I stand and wave to them.

    As I exit the stage, however, I notice Zak standing by the assistant, who ogles him. I glare at her, and she quickly looks down at her clipboard. My ghost hunter, not yours.

    Zak wraps his arm around my shoulders as I pause by him, and we continue walking out of the building. He stays silent until we're in his car, then he turns to me, keys in the ignition.

    "Thanks for the little shout-out about me saving your life, Saira. Really needed that," Zak says, staring into my eyes with his dark ones. "Would you prefer that I had not said that you saved me?" I ask, and Zak smiles and shakes his head.

    I roll my eyes at him, amused by his antics, and look out the window as we pull out of the parking lot.

    Then, when we're nearly home, Zak makes a startling turn, as if he just saw something that interests him. I look over at him, not speaking, trusting my fiance to have a liable excuse for why he turned off the road that will take us home.

    We park outside of a low-slung building with blotted out windows. I read the sign above the doorway, and turn to Zak.

    "What's this about?" I ask, and he just smiles mischievously. "You'll see," he says, then he gets out of the car and closes the door. I smile as I lean back into my seat, allowing Zak the time to get a mysterious tattoo on his skin that I'm not allowed to know about.

    I take out my phone and scroll through my Tweets. Another message from the undefined person from before is on my page, and I look at it, my brain automatically translating the code.

'    Fame can only take you so far, Saira. Eventually, someone near you will die. As they are always destined to.

    I growl, then type out a reply, also in the code created by my father and me. As someone who has died by being near me, how are you able to threaten the one who brought about your demise?

    I wait, though no answering message appears. A sigh escapes my lips, and I go to Google Docs. Only writing a story can calm down the emotions writhing around inside of me.

An eternity later, I see Zak exit the building, moving carefully. I don't know from personal experience, but I suspect that tattoos hurt just as bad as my scars.

    Zak slides into the driver seat, and starts the car. We drive back to our house in silence, both of us thinking our own thoughts.

    If only one of those thoughts had been on the night before, and how that night will change the rest of our lives forever.