Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
With the knowledge of what was suggested I do reiterated by yet another god, I stand numb, hating what must happen and yet hopeful.
She doesn’t even look back at me. She just walks around the next corner and vanishes into a mirror.
IVY
Ican feel him watching.
The fluorescent lights of the grocery store seem to flicker, but I know it’s not the wiring. It’s been happening every time I’ve felt him. The texts I’ve read say when the lights flicker, there is someone with a message from the other side. Someone wanting to speak to you.
The goosebumps travel down my arms and back, causing my entire body to shudder. Somewhere deep inside, where intuition lies, tells me I’m not okay. It screams inside of me that my life is going to change forevermore. It’s terrifying.
I swallow thickly, my heart pounds as if it’s trying to escape. I glance around, but there’s no one here. Just a narrow aisle next to another narrow aisle, and somewhere to the right I know there to be a cashier and a register. He’s nowhere to be found at the moment though.
At that thought, I look up and at first, I think it’s the man who’s supposed to be at the register. My body freezes.
His face is etched as if carved from stone. Perfectly chiseled jaw, sharp piercing eyes. He’s tall, his shoulders broad, he’s beautiful in so many ways.
But instinctively I know. The air bows around him. Powerful. Deadly.
With careful steps, I pretend. I pretend I don’t know deep in the marrow of my bones. I pray he can’t see my hands tremble. I move to another aisle with my little wire basket hanging from my hand and he follows, too. Even my breathing is careful.
Every time I look over my shoulder to see if he’s gone, he stares at the items on the shelves. As if he’s not watching me. He hasn’t done anything wrong. If I screamed, people would think I was paranoid.
But I know that the moment I look away, he goes back to watching me.
“I’ve had enough,” I mumble under my breath, feeling a lot less brave than I sound. I take a packet of tea bags off the shelf without looking to see what kind it is and stride up to the register to pay. I ring the bell as quickly as I can, and a woman comes out. Not the man who was here before.
My hands shake as I give my card to the woman behind the counter. If the woman behind the counter notices, she doesn’t say anything. The small hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge as she scans the item and tosses it into a small brown paper bag.
I make a plan while she hands me my receipt. I’ll leave the store and walk as fast as I can until I’m back in my room and lock the door behind me.
Once I’ve done that, I’ll call every person I can think of and tell them what’s been happening. If they think I’m crazy, I don’t care. One of them will help me.
Even if I have gone mad here in this gray city.
I tuck the paper bag with my purchases into the crook of my elbow and head for the doors.
The man from the store comes after me.
I can feel his eyes the back of my neck, burning hot. He can’t do this. He can’t stalk me and stare at me and pretend he has any right to follow me all over the city.
I’m about to turn around and tell him so when I feel it. A chill on the back of my neck and everywhere else. It’s a warning. To run.
I clench my teeth and start walking. Fast, but not too fast. My heart pounds like I’m running. I wish I could run, but if I do, I know he’ll run after me. He’ll catch me so easily and there’s no one here on the empty, narrow cobblestone street.
But there are people up ahead, coming in and out of shops and talking on their phones and looking up at the sky to see if the clouds are a different shade of gray today. As my heart races, they’re almost all a blur. I walk too fast for how many people are on the sidewalk, but I don’t care. My arm brushes against another woman’s and I almost cry with relief. They’re close enough to touch, and that means he can’t do anything to me here. Not with so many people around.
I keep moving through the crowd, my bravery growing with every step. But he’s behind me. He’s right there behind me every time I look.
The chill bears down on me. I can almost feel him breathing on the back of my neck.
I whirl around, ready to scream for help, to tell him to get away from me and stay away from me, but nothing comes out of my mouth.