As if the rumors and whispers from the people of her seaside town, Oceanbrook, weren’t bad enough, 17-year-old Sara D’Antonio is troubled by the whispers from the forest. It’s not her fault that she hears voices, that she sees auras, and that she has been sleepwalking along the shore. The townspeople, and Sarah’s parents among them, claim that it is all in response to stress, including her chronic migraines and panic attacks. They believe that she can’t come to grips with the fact that her cousin, Lena, is dead. But Sarah knows that the things she is experiencing are real and not something she is bringing on herself. She also knows that Lena is not dead, only missing. She believes that there is something more supernatural going on and that the town is hiding secrets.

Sarah’s feelings are validated when she suddenly becomes thrust into a world in which she has always sensed but never seen. A world of fairy witches, shape-shifters, and legendary creatures. The world of the astral plane. And now, it will be up to her to form alliances to save the magic, fix the astral plane, and most importantly, to bring her cousin home.

---

	Purchase
GENRE Fantasy Mystery	EBOOK Amazon Kindle Smashwords Nook Apple Google Play Kobo	PRINT Amazon
Available: October 20, 2025
Teen

---

Excerpt

Chapter One

The last thing I wanted to do was to go to a town baseball game. Especially the opening day game to usher in the waterfront festival. Don’t get me wrong, the game itself was fine. It’s America’s past time after all. But, honestly, it was past time this town stopped pretending that we’re the epicenter of wholesome family values that we project to the outsiders, the tourists that we depend on, that we all cared for one another. It takes a village and all that garbage.

Indeed, it does. It takes a village to carry on every day and pretend that nothing was wrong. People happened to get lost in the forests or accidentally drowned, and it was never a cause for concern. They ignored the signs. They ignored the evil lurking, waiting for its prey. They’re willfully ignorant because for them, everything was fine. I know. I used to be one of those people. Until my cugina was taken. My beautiful cousin went to a party and never came back.

Lena’s been gone for months now, and honoring her at a stupid town baseball game was supposed to do what exactly? It was definitely not bringing her back. Someone from my family was going to throw out the first pitch to mark the anniversary, but that was so performative. The town was going to pass around buckets to the tourists, garner their sympathy, and the donations will come pouring in. Then they’re hooked.

They’ll want to know about the town, the festivals, the best hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and finally, they’ll want to know about the town’s inhabitants. They’ll want to know about my cugina. But how can anyone actually know what happened to her? Swept out in the ocean, they say. I knew better. Her body was never recovered. I could still feel her presence. She had to be alive, and I was going to use every last bit of my energy to find her.

Even if it meant triggering my chronic migraines. Even if everyone thought I was hallucinating. Including my own parents.

“Sarah...Sarah!” I shot straight up, hearing my mother’s voice. “Have you been zoning out? Have you listened to anything I’ve just said?” I could feel my mother’s gaze from the passenger-side mirror boring into the back of my head as I turned forward in my seat.

“Umm, yeah. I think so,” I responded to her reflection. I placed my bandaged hand underneath my arm, bracing myself for my mother’s response. Praying she didn’t comment on my injury from last night’s latest sleepwalking incident.

“You think so?” my mother asked, the vein in her forehead pulsating as she tried controlling her temper. Then, failing miserably, she forced the sun visor down, allowing our eyes to meet in the mirror. “Sarah, you’re going to trigger a migraine. Look, I know how rough all of this is. It’s okay to be upset, but you still have to be a part of this community,” she said, staring at my hand while I tried desperately to tuck the edges of the bandage out of sight. Sighing, she continued, “Don’t give them any more reason—”

“Enough!” my father interjected from the front seat. Although my dad was a big guy, he hardly ever raised his voice. “We’re all at a ten, and we have to bring it down to about a five, okay?” he pleaded softly.

I could feel my temper rising because how dare she? Listening to the whispers of the town’s elite that I had gone off the deep end since my cousin has been gone. How could my own mother be embarrassed because of me? Even worse, how could both of my parents not believe me?

I wasn’t sleepwalking. Something was calling to me, watching me, by the woods beyond the breakwater. I could sense it. And I’m positive that someone or something took Lena. But no one was going to listen to me. If the past few years have taught me anything, it was that people provided lip service but didn’t really listen. They didn’t really want to hear anything because status quo worked for them until it didn’t. That included my parents. And unless my parents, or anyone else in this town, were actually doing something to find Lena, I wasn’t about to waste my energy on arguing.

Even though keeping my feelings in was slowly killing me. I felt like I had become a shell of my former self. It was all so frustrating, and it was getting harder and harder to put on a brave face and not emotionally break. The only hope I had was when I would finally be able to go see a qualified therapist. Any sensible person would know I’m telling the truth and do something to help. But it was taking forever to actually see someone. I was still on the waiting list for an appointment. Maybe by the fall, they said. But it would be too late. Lena might actually be dead by then along with my sanity. I had to find Lena now. A million and one thoughts were going through my head.

“She’s not even a big baseball fan,” I said softly. Crap. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I really didn’t want to waste my energy on arguing. I leaned on the side of the door and window, crossing my arms and resting my chin on top. There was no way I could look at my parents right now, knowing what they would say next.

“Sarah,” my dad said calmly, and I could see from the small space between the door and the seatbelt slot that my mother grasped his arm in support. Not because she was upset for me but as solidarity that their daughter was in fact losing it.

“Sarah, honey, we talked about this,” my dad continued gently.

I broke. I was trying so hard not to. “Yes, Dad, we did. But have you listened? Has anyone actually listened? I won’t talk about Lena in the past tense,” I paused, tears threatening to fall. Not only was I upset, but, like my dad, I never really raised my voice. Especially not to my parents. I took a breath to collect myself and continued, “Because she’s still out there somewhere,” I mumbled softly.

I knew that my emotional walls were going to crumble at any moment. The burn and tickle in my nose from trying to hold back my tears became too much. “Great, now my eye makeup is all messed up,” I said, swiping underneath my eye and across my cheek with my fingers, “But don’t worry, I’ll just keep pretending everything is fine because how would that look to the outside world? A little cover-up should do the trick,” I snarled. I took my eye shadow kit out of my bag and started to reapply along with some under eye concealer.

With each blot and blend of my finger, it wasn’t lost on me that the tool in my hand was also a larger metaphor of how my mom wanted me to live my life, and I was so over it. She didn’t care that I was upset. All she cared about was the image that our family portrayed to the outside world. I clasped my makeup kit shut and noticed that once again, my mother was staring at me with disapproval and disgust. I couldn’t contain my aggravation, and, as if they were their own sentient beings, my eyes rolled into the back of my head without me even thinking about it.

Which, of course, set off my mother. I watched her performance as she played the victim. She was clearly giving me the silent treatment on purpose now. She made sure I saw her pout as she turned toward my father so that he could feed her narcissism with compliments and try and make me feel bad. Real mature.

I wasn’t going to take the bait this time. If she was going to act like this and wasn’t going to talk then neither was I. She was in the wrong here. Not me. Rather than try to explain myself or feel the compulsive need to apologize to ease the tension like I usually did, I rolled my window down to clear the air. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, basking in the sunlight, breathing in its warmth, and shutting myself off from my parents and the world around me. Of course, it didn’t last long. Within seconds, I was jostled from my peace. Our car was shaking and rattling as we crossed the bridge onto Main Street and directly into summer traffic.

My dad shook his head in frustration, his knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. “It’s going to be at least another fifteen minutes to get through this.”

Great. More D’Antonio family time that meant more dead silence. At least I could try to people watch. After all, once we took a right out of Main Street, we would hit the ocean and boulevard lined with people. Tons of people. It was always busy in the summer, and today would be no exception. It would be an equal mix of tourists and townies.

From an outsider’s perspective, I could see how Oceanbrook would look like a hidden gem. A quaint seaside town perfect for a tourist destination in the summer months with its beaches, food and drink, and the waterfront festival culminating in the Feast of St. John to usher in the summer. Sadly, people believed the façade. With Lena being gone and all the news outlets running feel-good pieces about what a great community Oceanbrook was, people wanted to help. Because if you believed the lie, a local girl accidentally dying was tragic, and that sympathy translated to sales.

Having a local girl go missing was also tragic, but instead of sympathy, there would be fear. Fear of the unknown, but more importantly, fear of the truth. People tended to stay away from things they feared. If people stayed away then that meant no more tourists, and our local economy would suffer. There was no way Town Council President Fusco or the other ruling families of Oceanbrook would allow that to happen. I was sure this was the reason they didn’t want to admit that Lena had disappeared. It was easier to say she had died from an accident. They had said it so much that they may have actually believed it.

But I didn’t. I wouldn’t.

When my dad finally pulled into a parking spot, my bag began jittering and beeping, breaking the D’Antonio family silence. I fumbled around for my phone and read the text from my best friend, Anita. She and Carlo would be waiting for me by the Snack Shack after the pitch. Thank goodness. I would do the obligatory waves and stand next to whatever extended family was in attendance, but then I was out of there.

Even my aunt and uncle were staying clear away. Not that I could blame them. They had been totally off the grid backpacking and trying to find meaning. It was so sad to me because sometimes, bad stuff happens for no reason at all. I couldn’t stand listening to the elder extended family saying this was all part of the plan. Whose plan? Certainly not my aunt’s and uncle’s. And I can guarantee that Lena would have chosen to live her life the way she wanted instead of disappearing. In fact, if Lena were here and with me right now, she would have hated all of this. But she would have been overjoyed to know that she was right about Anita and Carlo becoming a couple.

I couldn’t believe I didn’t see it first, but my best friend and the boy next door did make an adorable couple. Growing up next to Carlo, I never saw him as anything other than a goofy brother or cousin. But he was like an artsy skateboarder with style, which I guess made him swoon-worthy, especially to Anita. I mentally added that to the list of things I was going to tell Lena when I found her. I got out of the car, pulling my bag over my shoulder and begrudgingly followed my parents through the sea of people to the front gate.

I didn’t get far when I heard a chorus of, “Ciao, bedda! Look at you!” Instinctively I shut my eyes, waiting to be smothered with hugs, kisses, and tugging on my cheeks. In a way, it was endearing that my family forever treated me like I was three. I wondered if it was because we haven’t seen each other in a while. And, maybe to them, I did still look like a baby, considering I hadn’t exactly had a growth spurt since fifth grade. I was lucky if I broke five foot-three wearing heels. 

I went down the row of my great aunts and great uncles who sat with us for support. None of them lived in town, and I wondered how much better life might be if they did. Maybe they would’ve been able to figure out what happened to Lena. Maybe they could have prevented it. I didn’t have too much time to dwell on the past because all the hairs on my neck began to raise and tingle, bringing me back to the present moment. The disgust emanating from my mother could be felt for miles as she whispered toward me. “Did you kiss your Zie?” Guess she was talking to me again, but she didn’t even wait for an answer as she poked me in the back and turned me to face my family on our way to our seats.

“You literally saw me do that. Why do you have to ask?” I whispered back into her ear. I didn’t want anyone else to hear me, but I wanted my mom to understand how annoyed I was. Noticing we were lagging behind, my dad slowed down and turned toward us.

“Can we please try to be nice to each other and get through this?” He looked so sad with the weight of the world on his shoulders, to keep me and my mom from arguing. Although I knew I had to fix it, I couldn’t stand when I had to be the responsible one. Why was it that people could act any way they wanted, including my parents, and I was always the one who had to be the bigger person? I looked my dad straight in the eye, nodded, and helped usher my mom over to our seats. As I sat down next to my great uncle, Zio Joe, he looked at me with concern.

“Bedda, why the fungia face?”

“Zio Joe, what are you talking about? I’m fine. I wasn’t frowning.”

I watched as Zio Joe gave me a once-over. He seemed to be studying my face. “Uh, you know I’ve been around a long time. You can’t fool your old uncle. I know there’s a fungia face underneath that smile,” he said, the corners of his mouth mimicking mine. All I could do was laugh. Zio Joe always knew how to cheer me up.

“Zio Joe, seriously, I’m fine. You know how my mom is.”

He pulled me in for a hug and kissed me on the top of my head, “You know you look just like her. You don’t have to worry. You’ll fix it.”

“You think I look like my mom?” I asked loudly, pulling away to look straight at my great uncle.

“I heard that, and I would take that as a compliment,” my mom said from the end of the row.

I stared back at my mom and tried not to roll my eyes too hard so I wouldn’t set her off again. Secretly though, I wouldn’t mind if I ended up looking like my mom. She had long, wavy, chestnut brown hair with eyes to match and could literally pull off any style.

Zio Joe chuckled and cupped my chin. With wide eyes, he pulled me in closer. “You and only you can get past the firewall. It will change everything,” he said in a faint whisper.

I stared at my uncle confused. “Zio Joe, I know how to work computers and all, but I’m not a programmer. I can’t fix any firewalls.”

“Yes, you can. Zio knows these things,” he said, nodding with confidence while shaking his finger toward the sky.

My mother had been watching our conversation, and using the end of Zio Joe’s explanation as her cue, she walked over to us with her portable cooler trailing close behind. Of course, she would be offering the family a quick snack of cheese and grapes along with her sweet herbal tea because it had been like two minutes since we had eaten anything.

“Aw, thank you, dear, but you can’t buy me off like the rest of them, you know,” Zio Joe said, smirking, leaving my mom looking shocked.

“Zio, what are you talking about?” She asked and became all shifty, patting down her wavy hair and dress.

That was weird. I wondered why that made her all flustered and looked at my dad for some guidance. He shrugged, adjusted his Boston Red Sox baseball cap, and sat down. His eyes were barely visible. I couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing that not only was he trying to hide from the sun, but also his frustrations. Zia Maria patted my dad on the back and headed over to Zio Joe and me.

“Okay, that’s enough, Giuseppe,” Zia Maria said, swooping in. She put a hand on Zio Joe’s shoulder and the other one on mine, guiding me out of Zio Joe’s earshot. “Sarah, honey, he’s been very forgetful lately. Stress makes him talk nonsense. Don’t pay any attention to him.” She nodded to my mom, and my mom placed the tray of drinks in front of Zio Joe and me.

“Oh no, I’m not drinking any of that concoction. I want to remember.”

My mom always made herbal sweet teas and seemed very offended by Zio Joe’s comment.

“Zio Joe, grant it, my sweet teas are no Amaro Averna or limoncello, but they are my specialty. They’re so popular that they’re even being sold at the Snack Shack,” she said proudly.

My mom did have a point. They had starting selling them at the Snack Shack and even in some of the cafes downtown. People loved them. Apparently, not Zio Joe though. I could see his face transform from defiant to accepting. Mom seemed pleased. No one said no to my mother.

“I made it with love,” she said, grinning even wider. “Now drink up because it will make you feel better.”

A shiver ran through me. I really didn’t want a migraine to start. I shut my eyes for a moment, which seemed to make it subside, only to find the tray of drinks now in my face. I honestly wasn’t super thirsty, but it was getting hotter out. I figured the heat, coupled with the stress of walking on eggshells in front of my family, it probably wasn’t a bad idea to stay hydrated. I nodded to my mother and reached for the glass. Before I could lift the bottom off the tray, Zio Joe snatched it out of my hand, spilling a little over the side and onto my jean shorts.

“Zio Joe!” I shrieked, but quickly changed my tone. I didn’t want him getting upset. “Zio Joe, are you okay? It just spilled a little. Not a big deal.”

He stared at me and then motioned for me to come closer with his pointer finger. I leaned in because he had already begun whispering. “If you smell cherries, don’t drink it. She doesn’t want you to remember. Now lemon. Lemon is good,” he said, clasping his fingers together, touching his lips, and blowing a kiss into the air.

“Okay, Zio Joe. Thanks for the warning,” I said and wondered if maybe he missed his meds today. I patted his knee and looked across at home plate. There was a lot of commotion and set up still being done before the official opening ceremonies. I didn’t want to upset Zio Joe any more than he already seemed to be, but I had to wash off the iced tea from my shorts so I wouldn’t become a bee magnet. I figured I had at least ten minutes before anything started, and I would have to be in my seat.

There were still some patrons filing in by the front gate near the Snack Shack although the stands were filling up fast. I looked back over at my family and noticed Zia Maria watching me. I lifted the edge of my shorts, and she followed my eyes, indicating I would be going to the bathroom. Nodding, Zia Maria tapped my mom’s shoulder, and I was dismissed.

Although I wasn’t happy about the prospect of getting stung and the extra work of having to wash off my shorts, I was glad for the break away from my family. As I climbed down through the bleachers and maneuvered my way through the tourists, I noticed Town Council President Fusco and Mrs. Fusco were front and center along with the other Oceanbrook royalty because, of course, they were.

Plus, it was hard not to notice the Fuscos. Mr. Fusco had a commanding presence wherever he went. He had an athletic build and stood well over six feet tall with wavy salt and pepper hair, a dark brown mustache, and a few distinguished forehead wrinkles. Mrs. Fusco was in direct contrast to Mr. Fusco, being petite with bleach blonde hair and a forehead and eyebrows that showed no emotion from all of the Botox. She kept herself in shape, just like Mr. Fusco, and she was always quick to remind everyone that Mr. Fusco had their clothes flown in from Milan. In fact, Mrs. Fusco’s outfit today looked tailor-made. It was so obnoxious, but in a way, I felt bad for Mrs. Fusco. It must be rough, having a husband and a daughter so many people disliked. There was no harm in being polite so I waved.

As they returned my greeting, my mom’s voice rang through my subconscious. I had to be sure to look happy, but not too happy, considering the circumstances we were gathering for. Being raised in the D’Antonio household, I could always put on a good show, especially in front of the Fuscos. People could be so nosy and then use that information however they saw fit, whether it be for good or for nefarious reasons.

That’s what happened when you lived in a small town. It was great because everyone knew everyone, and it was terrible for the exact same reasons. Depending on your family and their status, perceptions, punishments, and future paths were already laid out; even expectations of whom one should marry. It was quite archaic and outdated, and no one seemed to have such a problem with it except me. Well, me and Lena.

Oh great, now the Fuscos were getting up from their seats and slithering their way around the town’s other VIPs toward me.

“Sarah, dear, I’m so, so, sorry about your cousin. Her memory will be with us always,” Mr. Fusco said while giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Look at all of these people who came to show their respect.”

I tried so hard to be respectful and not throw up in my mouth. If they actually knew Lena and wanted to respect her memory, they would know that this was the last place she would want a memorial. But, like so many times before, I reminded myself that she wasn’t dead and let the comment go. Mrs. Fusco must have thought I was upset by my lack of response and gave me a big hug to fill the awkward silence. “Good to see you out and about, Sarah. We’ll let you get back to your family.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Fusco. See you both later,” I said, attempting not to cringe. Before I could turn to leave, Mrs. Fusco put her hand on my back and said, “Please say hello to your mother for me, and tell her I’ll catch up with her after, okay?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Fusco,” I said and waved one last time, thankful that I’d finally be able to clean the tea off my shorts.

As I moved closer to the Snack Shack and gave my obligatory head nods and hellos, I recognized more people in the stands. There were a few of my classmates and their families alongside the town’s VIPs with a sprinkle of tourists in-between. Everyone was so warm and friendly when they first saw me. Then came their dreaded questions ‘How are you?’ and ‘Do you need anything?’ because no one wants to know the answer, and no one actually wants to help. It would make them uncomfortable, and if there’s anything that I learned throughout my seventeen years on this earth, is that people will do whatever they can to stay comfortable even if it wasn’t in their best interest.

To be fair, I guess this realization hadn’t hit me until I started really suffering from my migraines. Before I had them, it was easier to forgive people for their transgressions. It was easier to make excuses for why I was invited to hang out at some parties and not others. It was easier to pretend that I was valued as a friend instead of an Uber or Lyft service when everyone wanted to drink. If I was being honest, most times I was an afterthought. The truth was, people only wanted to spend time with me if they wanted something from me, which worked just fine before. Not now. Now, things were weird for me anytime I interacted with most people.

My social anxiety was really starting to get the best of me, and I needed to find Anita and Carlo. It was exhausting, trying to pretend to be okay all the time, and although I kept my true feelings inside, even from them, at least being in their presence reminded me of who I truly was.

I scanned the crowd again and was almost at the Snack Shack, but there was still no sign of them. My hands clutched to my phone like a lifeline, and I quickly started texting Anita when my phone buzzed. I pressed the green Talk button and put the phone up to my ear. “Hey! I was just texting you. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. So sorry. We’re here, but we ran into some people on the way in.”

She didn’t have to say anymore. I knew by her tone that it wasn’t just a few old friends in the crowd that she was referring to.

“Anita, it’s fine. You hang with Tammy and all them. It’s supposed to start soon, and we’ll catch up later.”

“You sure? I’m here to support you, not to socialize.”

Did she seriously think that was supposed to make me feel better? “Yeah, yeah it’s totally fine. Socializing is important.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“See you in a bit,” I said, thrusting my phone back into my pocket. I was already getting a little emotional thinking about Lena, and this was about to send me over the edge. Anita hanging out with my Number One frenemy, Tammy Fusco, shouldn’t make me so upset.

It was ridiculous really. I knew it was ridiculous, but as much as I could mask my feelings to the outside world, I couldn’t hide them from myself. My eyes started burning, and I rubbed them quickly to prevent any crying because I couldn’t cry right now.

I brushed back my long, wavy hair into a ponytail and felt a pinch on my leg. “Ouch!” I squealed, watching a welt appear that simultaneous hurt and itched. Ughh. Just my luck. Horsefly bites were almost as bad as bee stings. I really needed to get the tea out of my shorts before I got bitten again. I weaved in and out of the crowd and finally made it to the bathroom. Luckily, the stall all the way at the end was empty. There were other people in the bathroom so I made my way over as quietly as I could and locked the door with a sigh.

Deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth. Hold in for one, two, three. Out for one, two, three. Deep breaths in and deep breaths out. The tightness in my chest began to subside, and I realized it got quiet so the other people in the bathroom must have left already. Thank goodness. I was just about to open the door when I heard footsteps and familiar voices.

It was Anita and Tammy.

“Yeah, I mean I feel really bad for Sarah, being forced to quit the team and having to stay home all the time, but you know you can still go out and do stuff too. She would want you to,” Tammy’s voice echoed from the first stall.

What did she mean?

“Shhh! Tammy, we might not be the only ones in here!”

“Calm down, of course no one else is in here,” she said with her footsteps getting closer. “Hello, is anyone in here?”

Freaking out, I stood on the toilet rim and crouched down below the top of the stall. There was no way I was going to let them find me, and I needed to hear the rest of the conversation.

“Don’t look at me like that. I guess you’re right. Anyway, Sarah’s going through a lot right now, and it wouldn’t be right to ditch her for a party or not tell her, you know?”

Was Anita not going out because of me? Was I ruining my best friend’s social life, and what party were they talking about?

“That’s not an answer. Are you coming or not?”

After a minute or two, Anita said, “Well, you go, Tammy. It’s fine. I’ll even let you take Carlo as your date if you promise not to take him from me.”

“Okay, that joke was half serious, wasn’t it? Contrary to what people may think, I’m not here to steal anyone’s love interest. I just like to flirt and have fun.”

Yeah, okay. So, if sitting in my boyfriend’s lap, stroking his hair and whispering in his ear while making sure your lips graze his cheek, is not trying to steal him then I must not understand how things work.  

“Tammy, you completely crossed a friendship line at that party, and you know it.”

“Anita, it’s not like I made out with him or slept with him or anything. I was just having some fun. Sarah was the one who asked for the breakup so don’t put that on me. Everyone’s so hard on me. How is that you two are so tight, and you didn’t tell her about the huge party at the docks when school got out?”

“You make me sound like a horrible person, Tammy! I didn’t mean to not tell her, but it just never came up, and you kind of just sprung it on me. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“But you still went and had fun, right?”

“Right,” Anita added slowly.

“So that’s all I’m saying. Because people are going to stop inviting you places, and you will become a social outcast when you finally do go to things. Just like Sarah. People don’t know how to act around her anymore, even girls on the squad.”

My hands started trembling, followed by a full-body shake. My mom basically hadn’t let me do anything since my migraines started two years ago, and I had to quit the cheerleading team that was my only outlet. Then, when Lena went missing, my social life became non-existent. No one wanted to hang out with the girl who could hear voices and sometimes see people’s auras. The same girl who would sleepwalk to the beach and come back home with drenched clothes. I was getting hot and cold flashes just thinking about everything that had happened and could not believe what I was hearing from Tammy and Anita.

Actually, I think it bothered me so much because I could in fact believe what I was hearing. All of my worst fears were coming true. I was too much for my best friend, but without her, I would have no friends left. My fight or flight response was kicking in, and I was terrified of a migraine coming on. I needed to get out of there fast. I would give them another minute, and then I would flush the toilet so they would know someone else was in fact in here and hopefully leave. I didn’t want them to know it was me, and I certainly wouldn’t want to give Tammy the satisfaction of hearing me cry. I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and muffled my sobs into it.

“Well, what is that supposed to mean, Tammy? Sarah has a problem and needs her friends more than ever. Are you seriously suggesting that we’re just supposed to ditch her because it doesn’t fit in with our schedule?”

“No, but I’m just trying to look out for you too. I love Sarah, but you can’t stop living because she has to.”

No. Please no…a migraine. No!

“Wow, Tammy, I didn’t realize what kind of person you really are. I can’t talk to you right now.”

“Wait! Anita! Wait! You’re misunderstanding what I’m trying to say!” yelled Tammy. I heard her footsteps move quickly into a run after Anita, and my heart broke into a million pieces on the bathroom floor.

I would have been a slobbering heap right there on the concrete of the bathroom, but I started seeing the migraine aura and knew that I needed to get help. I quickly came out of the bathroom stall and splashed water onto my red, puffy, swollen eyes. I had to leave right this second. I yanked the bathroom door open and almost ran full force into someone.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” The poor girl looked shocked and a little scared. Great. Could this day get any worse?

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she said while straightening out her ankle-length chiffon skirt and long, golden hair.

“I’m so sorry I almost didn’t see you.”

“I’m surprised you saw me at all. No harm done,” she said with a reassuring smile.

“Great outfit by the way,” I said. Why was I so weird? I mean her outfit was great. I had never seen such a pretty pearl-white chiffon skirt with matching top, but I’m not sure why I blurted that out, especially with everything that was going on.

“That’s so kind. Thank you. I’m a fan of yours too,” she said eyeing me up and down. “What’s your name?”

I extended my hand. “Sarah. And yours?”

“Deena. It’s lovely to meet you,” she said while still clutching my hand. It should have been awkward, but it was comforting. A jolt of static electricity went through my hand, and Deena smiled. “Us Sweet Bloods have to stick together. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” she said, letting go of my hand and disappearing quickly into the crowd.

“Wait! Wait!” I called after her. What did she mean by us sweet bloods? That’s exactly what I heard last night when I found myself at the breakwater. Was it Deena talking to me? Why did my hand suddenly feel like I put it in a light socket? What was going on? I had to find her. I had to find out who she was. I was so focused on running through the crowd of people, trying to find Deena that I was almost to the breakwater and ocean when I missed the yells and cries of “Heads!”

Everything started becoming fuzzy, and the sky changed from grey to hues of pink. This wasn’t good. How many times have I heard that pink skies at noon, sailors meet their doom? My arms and legs began feeling heavy, almost as if vines were twisting around them, trying to drag me down. My vision was fading, but I could hear whispers off in the distance. I needed to get closer. I needed help.

 

↑ Return to Top ↑