Chapter 1 - The Only People I Have

A Chapter by emma

The sunlight shone through the empty Vodka bottle sitting on the coffee table, illuminating the forgotten gardening magazines. My grandmother and I sat in silence, lost in our own worlds. Grandma had finally decided to begin training me after my last surprise possession, and she had given me The Possess of a Ghombie to read. It was eight hundred pages of the reasons of a ghombie possession, and the dangers of it. Like I needed to know about that. Grandma said that the second volume talked about how to protect yourself from a possession, but first I had to read Volume 1.

I was already two hundred and thirty three pages in, and that was only two hours later with only a small break. I was determined to finish before the sky darkened. Well, that was the plan anyway. Grandma even admitted it was boring and I’d get tired of it by page three hundred. I was way past tired now.

My mother stumbled down the old Victorian staircase. She bashed into a wall, but didn’t fall down. She righted herself and pushed off the wall and into the kitchen. I heard her rummaging through cupboards, and knew what she was looking for. She screamed angrily when she found no alcohol.

I tried to look innocent as I read, but I could feel my grandmother’s gaze burning a hole through my façade. I looked up.

“What?”

“Andrea, where did you put her special drinks?” My grandmother refused to call them anything besides my mom’s “special drinks” as if not saying it would make it all disappear.

“I didn’t touch her alcohol.”

My grandma gave me a scolding look. “Andrea Paige Landry.”

I had to look away, her gaze was so unimpressed. “Grandma, you know she has a problem. Help me fix her.”

My grandmother sighed. “Andrea, where did you put them?”

“In a box labeled ‘Kitchen’ in the basement.”

“Wendy!” my grandmother shouted.

My mother staggered into the living room. Her red eyes scanned the room lazily, and just seemed to barely notice Grandma and I.

“What?” she slurred.

“Andrea says she knows where your drinks are.”

My mother’s gaze locked with mine. Hers was milky and incomprehensive. “Show me, girl.”

I stood and walked quickly to the stairs that led to the basement. I did so specifically to mock her, though she didn’t realize it. Haha, Mom, I thought. I can walk fast, and you can barely stand. It was a microscopically small victory. I pushed the creaky door that led to the basement open. I didn’t wait for my mother and scurried down the rickety wooden stairs without her.

I flipped on a switch and the room flooded with colour. Boxes lined every shelf, and littered the floor. Some were open and spilling contents, others were perfectly sealed. I scoured the mess until I found the box labeled ‘Kitchen.’ I opened it and stared sadly at the Whisky, Vodka, beer and cheap wines. I waited patiently for my mother to finish falling down the stairs and get her drunken butt in gear.

When she finally staggered her way over to me, I pointed to the box of alcohol. “There’s all your drinks. Happy?”

My mother stroked a bottle of beer. “Baby, are you mad?” she asked, sounding oddly sober.

I didn’t bother lying. “No, I’m not mad. I’m pissed.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

“You can’t stay sober one afternoon. You’ve barely talked to me since we found out I’m a ghombie-whisperer!”

My mother looked away. “You’d like to drink, too, if you had to train your daughter to be the scariest thing on the planet.”

I was shocked silent. I should’ve gathered myself faster, because my mother slouched into the boxes and I knew her sobriety had dissolved. Angrily, I stomped back up the stairs and up to my room. I willed myself not to cry, but the tears came. They slicked my cheeks, soaked my pillow and dripped onto my shirt. My grandmother knocked on my door at some point, but I wouldn’t let her in. My life sucked, and there was no getting around it.

F.M.L.

I sat on the bench way in the back of the Graveyard, where there were no used graves yet. The trees rustled in the breeze, and I pulled my black hood over my even-blacker hair. I shoved my hands into my pockets and blew an exhausted breath that turned to fog. It had been incredibly hard to sneak out of my house, since my grandma practically camped outside my door and my bedroom is almost three stories up. But it’s not like sneaking past my mother was an issue at all. I’d managed scaling the wall without dying and hadn't alerted my grandma that I was leaving, so that was classified as a win for me.

I’d called up Chase and Skye, and they’d agreed to meet me here, in our sacred place. The Graveyard, specifically designed for the supernatural. Skye is a witch, and Chase is a shape shifter. They’re both still in training, like I’m supposed to be.

The crunch of branches breaking underfoot made me look up. Chase was jogging up to me, his breath forming clouds of fog. He only had on a green t-shirt and jeans, despite the cold weather. His curly brown hair tumbled into his green eyes, and his dimples grew bigger when he smiled at me.

“Sup, ghombie-whisperer?”

I leapt up and threw myself into his strong arms. I nestled myself deep into him and breathed in the familiar smells that were Chase Armstead. He buried his face in my hair and tightened his grip around me. It was comforting being in Chase’s arms again, like coming home after a long vacation.

Chase detached himself from me, and we sat on the bench together. He held my hand and our fingers entwined, a perfect fit. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, letting myself soak up the awesomeness of being so close to him.

Chase and I have been friends since we were in diapers, so holding hands and hugging isn’t a rare occurrence when it comes to us. Our friendship is even woven a little deeper than that. Both of our dads were killed in the same battle, side by side, fighting determinedly. It’s like we’re siblings, but also not. Chase is my best friend, and I love him to death. I’d die for him, and he’d do the same for me.

“I’ve missed you,” I murmured. “You need to visit more often.”

Chase sighed. “It’s hard to keep up with you and my studies. You’re tougher to deal with than my work.”

I punched his arm. “Whatever.”

“You know I’m joking. I’ve missed you, too.”

“How’s Annabelle?” I asked. Annabelle is Chase’s shape shifter girlfriend. They’re going through training together.

“She’s failing a course. She sucks at changing into inanimate objects.”

“Oh. Sucks to be her.”

Chase chuckled. “But, she has me as a boyfriend, so it doesn’t suck to be her.”

I laughed. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more self-centered.”

A crazy laugh echoed above our heads. I looked up and saw Skye riding a broomstick, laughing like a maniac. “I don’t exactly know what I’m doing!” she called.

I hopped up. “Land it, Skye!”

And that’s what she attempted to do, but ended up in a tree. “Crap, that hurt,” she moaned.

It was a short tree, so she easily leapt out of it. Her grey sweatpants were covered in dirt and bark, and her blonde mop of hair packed with twigs. I laughed.

“You look like you’ve just fallen out of the sky and into a tree.”

She shot me an unamused look, but she smiled. “That’s a lame joke, Andrea.”

I hugged her. “You expected anything better?”

She laughed into my shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Drey.”

We broke apart and Skye shyly made her way over to Chase, who was still on the bench.

“Hi, Chase. Long time no see.” Her voice cracked in the middle.

Chase tried and failed to grin lightly. “Not long enough.”

Skye chuckled, but I could see the twisted lines of pain on her features. I didn’t know what it was like to be blinded by love, then obliterated by the break up, but I could guess that it hurt. And judging by Skye’s face, she was still hurting. Skye and Chase dated once, a year or so ago. They had a fight that made them break up and haven’t even talked since. Before today anyway. I’ve been meeting up with them separately ever since they both moved off to their training camps.

An awkward silence settled between the three of us. Chase looked like he wanted to run away, Skye looked like she either wanted to murder Chase or kiss him, and I just wanted us all to be friends again.

“So.” That was the best conversation starter I could come up with.

Chase shrugged and Skye stayed perfectly still, her blue eyes trained on Chase. I sighed.

“Who’s up for the Haunted Corn Maze at Blaker’s Farm next Saturday?” I asked randomly.

“Me!” “I am!”

Chase and Skye locked eyes. Anger simmered on both of their faces.

“Oh, wait, I might have plans.” “I think I’m busy, actually.”

I struggled to hold it together. I couldn’t. “Oh my God you’re both going! Forgive and forget, right?”

Both mumbled something incoherent. “I’m taking that as a yes,” I concluded.

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© 2012 emma

Author's Note

Hey, guys! I know this is a bit different than my Prologue, but like any story, i have to build back up to the drama. i already know its not as exciting at the Prologue, but trust me: the story will get there.