Hidden Magic

Darkness

Morning dawned bright through the windows of Amber’s living room. Rosie sat up, stretched and yawned. She’d fell asleep on the couch sometime in the middle of Shane’s X-box marathon and James coming in and out with random novels from the study. There was now a pile of them lying on the coffee table. Crazy.


Rosie blinked and tried to ignore the aching in her back from sleeping on such a ridiculously uncomfortable couch, and then there was having to share it with a tall, muscular guy. Guy’s are space hogs: fact, she thought grumpily as she stood up.


Shane was flat out, sprawled on three-quarters of the couch, and even snoring slightly. Rosie smiled and wished her phone hadn’t died or this would so be being recorded and uploaded to YouTube. Damn phone battery. She really did need to charge it. She didn’t know when she might need it these days.


Rosie nudged Shane’s shoulder slightly with her hand, but all it earned her was an annoyed groan, and then being presented with his ignorant back as he turned away from her.


“Moody in the morning much,” she mumbled as she made her way into the kitchen. The kitchen was a nice refresher from the living room. The cabinets were still made of the ever present dark, murky wood, but at least the walls were light. They were painted a creamy-white, with little pink flower decorations making a beautiful border.


Rosie opened the big, white fridge and found a pack of Coke. She took two cans and then two apples from the fruit bowl. She opened the kitchen door and threw one of the apples at sleeping Shane. He shot up and looked around frantically. His gaze finally settled on Rosie, who was now laughing her head off at his reaction. He scowled at her.


“Ha-ha, very funny,” he said sarcastically, and got up from the sofa. Rosie walked up to him, smiling sweetly as she held out a can of coke as a peace offering. He still scowled at her, but what guy can really refuse coke? None.


Shane took a few thirsty gulps and then put the can down on the coffee table. He then lifted his hand to the red mark on his head where the apple had hit him. Rosie giggled, and then took a sip of her own coke to try and mask it.


Shane shot her a glare. “I’m going upstairs. I need to change out of these clothes. They’re a bit crisp from yesterday.” His gaze turned to cocky. “Even though you assaulted me for a wakeup call, you can come spy if you want to. I won’t blame you.” He even lifted the sleeve of his shirt and repeatedly flexed his arm muscles, all the while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.


Rosie raised her own eyebrows. “Oh, no thanks. I’m good, Mr Arrogant.”


Shane raised his arms in surrender. “Whatever, girl. See you later. Oh, and try not to get munched while I’m gone.”


“He’s still here?” Rosie whined.


“Yup,” Shane said, disappearing up the stairs.


Rosie groaned, and took an angry bite of her green apple. Something about James just disturbed her. She always got the feeling he was either seriously mental or hiding some big secret.


Rosie sat down on the couch, not knowing what else to do. She certainly wasn’t going to go looking for Amber. Their friendship was well and truly going down the dump, and it wasn’t even her fault. Amber’s the one not putting in any effort, so why should I keep trying? She thought, but she knew she was just being stubborn, and avoiding the inventible: confrontation. Yep, going to leave that just a little while longer. And as for James, no way was she going out of her way to come into any more contact with him whatsoever. To be honest, she just wanted to go home. To her family, to her mother. Not to have her world be so broken, so screwed up. Rosie wanted to be back in London, with Mum, Dad and Amy. Forever. A happy family once again. Yeah right, like that’s going to happen.


Rosie didn’t know how long she sat there. How many minutes. Or hours even. But she knew with the uncomfortable churning in her stomach, that when the lock turned that morning, trouble was coming.


Rosie’s heart stopped as she heard the sound of heels walking across the wooden hall. It had to be her. It had to be. Everyone else was upstairs, or in some other part of the house. It had to be Lorraine.


Rosie gulped, and had to fight to catch her breath, as the sound got louder and louder. More daunting, more creepy.


Lorraine walked into the living room. She wore a black blazer and a fitted, tailored skirt, and had her hair done in big, voluminous curls. Her green eyes were vibrant and sparkling. She knew that kind of vibrant. It was the kind that Shane and Amber got when they used their element. Rosie shivered as an icy chill prickled her skin.


“Rosie,” Lorraine said in a forced, friendly voice. “How lovely to see you again.” All Rosie did was nod. It was like all it took was Lorraine’s presence and she froze with terror. Not daring to speak or move. “Not to sound rude, but, what are doing here?”


“I...I...” She stuttered. “I...um, stayed here...”


“Relax; I’m not going to hurt you.”


She nodded again.


“And what time are you going home?” Lorraine asked, not even bothering to hide her distaste this time. Rosie looked up into her eyes, but instantly regretted it as she saw the coldness hidden inside them. She shivered again.


“Of...” Rosie started.


“Lorraine,” James said, strolling into the room, a wide grin spread across his face.


“James,” Lorraine said, almost fondly, meeting his grin with an equally big one as she held out her arms for a hug.


James ignored her outspread arms, and with the same expression, said “When did you get so old and bitter?”


Lorraine dropped her arms - and her jaw as she stared at James in disbelief. James just continued to grin. Rosie watched him in a weird kind of awe.


“I haven’t seen you in a long time, and well, the years have passed I see. Oh and when did you get so rude?” James tutted sarcastically. “I suggest you stop being so stuck up and leave this young lady alone. She is worth more than you.”


Lorraine finally closed her open mouth and smiled. It was a strange, twisted smile that made Rosie’s skin crawl. She even felt bad for James. “James, last time I saw you, you were weak and scared. Running, I do believe. Now you actually seem to have become less of a pathetic disgrace.” Her icy eyes studied him for a moment. “Though I greatly doubt it will last. And if you know any better, which I’m sure you must by now, you’ll leave me and my business alone.” There was no mistaking the command in Lorraine’s voice. Rosie just stood there frozen, terrified about what was going to happen to her now. James wouldn’t save her, would he? And it did seem like Lorraine had had enough of her by now.


James was still grinning. She felt sick watching him.


Lorraine took a step towards Rosie, her eyes manic, crazy with the thought of making her suffer. She knew that look; it was the same way the vampire who’d attacked her yesterday had looked at her, just without the blood-lust. She closed her eyes, waiting.


It didn't come.


Rosie opened her eyes to see Lorraine pinned against the living room wall, with James holding her hands in a death grip behind her back, snarling. His eyes flashed a monstrous red. “I said to leave her alone. She is worth more than you, Lorraine,” he spat. “You are out of your depth here!”


“Get out off of me!” She warned, fighting to get free.


James pulled her back and grabbed her by her collar. His face was mere centimetres from hers. Rosie nearly fainted at the sight of his fangs, pointy and deadly. “Leave. This. Girl. Alone. I am not that person anymore.”


“Clearly not,” Lorraine agreed, glaring. Rosie didn’t have time to yell out, do anything, before Lorraine grabbed a small, razor sharp knife from her blazer pocket and stabbed James right in the heart.


James staggered back, clutching his wound as blood spilled out of him. He looked in shock at Lorraine’s smug, smiling face and then collapsed to the floor.


Rosie screamed, it escaped her lips high pitched and petrified. Lorraine immediately turned her beady eyes towards her. She smiled. All wrong, all wrong. In the most controlled and calm voice Rosie had ever heard, Lorraine said, “Silence this girl.”


Her scream cut off completely. Her throat felt like it was closing in on her, like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak... She gasped for breath, dropping weakly to her knees, clutching her throat. All the while Lorraine watched her, smiling in sick satisfaction. Rosie continued to choke, fighting for her breath, fighting for her life, as stars blinked her vision. The world faded away one agonizing second at a time, darkness enfolding her.


What remained of her consciousness caught the sight of Amber running into the room, taking one shocked look at Rosie, life slowly fading away, and then across at James, as still as a dead statue on the floor, covered in a layer of  too dark blood. Then finally they found her mother, and the hurt and betray in her eyes was enough to make Rosie want to reach out to her, hug her, tell her everything would be okay. In that moment it no longer mattered what Amber may have done or be planning. But she couldn’t do anything because she knew she didn’t have long left. She knew she was disappearing. Dying. Just like Louise. But this wasn’t Amber’s fault, this was Lorraine’s. And so was Louise’s death. Amber is nothing like her Mum. Everything made sense before Rosie fell into the blackness.





Her hands clutched a wall. She could hear herself breathing in fast pants, and could see her skin was wet and clammy from sweat. But she couldn’t feel anything. Not the wall, nothing. She squinted in the dim-light. She was in a hallway, a dangerously familiar one. She ran her hands down the wall, searching for something, anything to tell her where she was, but still, she felt nothing.


“Hello?” She whispered. A dark, gloomy shadow appeared at the end of the hallway. She started to walk towards it, not feeling any fear, nothing. Suddenly her steps stopped, gluing her in place. She swallowed and looked at the shadow. It looked like a man’s shape. “Who are you?”


“Too soon in the game,” it said, and disappeared.





Rosie woke up in her own bed, in her own room. She breathed the sweet oxygen around her, getting in as much as she could. It felt like she hadn’t breathed for years. She brought her hand to her throat, knowing it was important. It felt oddly sensitive when she touched it. She let go, looking around her room for traces of anyone. She was alone.


Rosie shook her head, puzzled. She’d been at Amber’s house, right? She stilled as the day’s events came rushing back to her. Lorraine, James... Oh god, James? Was he okay? She thought, the horror racing through her as she remembered the knife going into James's heart, making her want to scream out in fear and despair. Rosie remembered Lorraine doing some kind of spell on her, cutting off her speech, her oxygen, taking away her very life. Tears sprang her eyes, and Rosie clapped her hands over her mouth, suppressing a scream. I almost died, and it was Amber’s Mum who tried to do it.


But what else had happened? How did I get here? Rosie reached for her phone in her pocket, but it wasn’t there. She wasn’t still dressed in her jeans; she was now wearing her pyjamas. What? She pulled at the soft, purple fabric in confusion.


Slowly and as steadily as her wobbly legs would allow her, she got up, and flipped on her bedside lamp. She walked to where her phone was lying on top of her folded up clothes on her desk chair. She picked it up. Dead. Rosie threw it back down in frustration.


She quietly opened the door to her room and stepped out. One look out of the window told her it was night. At least eleven o’clock by the look of the darkness outside. Rosie made her way down the stairs. Mum was lying down on the couch, asleep with the TV remote still held in her hand. Rosie knelt down silently beside her. She stroked her precious cheek, and tears sprang her eyes again. I nearly left her again too. They fell slowly down her cheeks as she lay her head down next to her Mum, and wished for Amy to be okay too.