Plagued by never-ending nightmares and cursed with a mysterious ability to sense others' emotions, 19-year-old Diana Massey is no stranger to the peculiar. Bizarre events start piling up when a young man named Casimir comes to live at her family far...
"Ah yes, just like I remember it," Casimir smiled, looking over the scenery. "Although that shed is new."
"I forgot, you've been here before."
"Sorry," Casimir ducked his head in apology. I wondered if he learned that from his time abroad. Most people didn't bow around here. I stored my bike and we clomped up the stairs to the front door. It pushed open easily, apparently unlocked.
"Grandpa, I'm home," I called out, my eyes searching our small living room. I heard movement from the loft above so I craned my neck to look up. "You up there?"
"Oh Diana, welcome home. I placed your paintings to the side for you to go through later," Grandfather answered. "I wasn't sure what you were still working on." He peered over the edge of the railing from the loft above and I noticed that he had changed back into his work clothes.
I looked over at the stack of paintings leaning against the back of the couch, I couldn't believe I had that many. I clucked my tongue, not looking forward to storing most of these. "Most of the current paintings are at school already for the art show. Some of these can go into storage, or the trash heap for all I care," I said glumly.
"That seems like a shame," my grandfather's voice replied from above.
"Grandpa you can't keep every drawing or doodle I make," I chided, slipping off my backpack so I could take off my coat.
"Try and stop me."
I rolled my eyes as I stored my coat on the rack near the door. "Speaking of paintings, I got into the art show for the Open House," I shouted, as to be heard from the loft.
"That's amazing Diana, what piece got in?"
"Three actually, I'm one of the seniors that gets a showcase," I replied with a smile. I heard the loud clunking of boots on the stairs and watched as my Grandfather rushed over to me, with a huge grin.
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"Congratulations! I knew they would pick you," he said, wrapping me in a strong hug. "We should celebrate."
"Pizza for dinner?" I requested, glancing over at Casimir who was watching our exchange silently.
"Pizza and ice cream," Grandpa announced.
"Root beer floats!" I shouted, growing more excited.
I excused myself to go unpack my bag in the privacy of my bedroom, deciding that Grandpa could babysit Casimir now that we were home. As I shut my door I was still psyched about my art being featured in the showcase. My hand lingered over the doorknob for a moment and I paused, wondering if I should lock it. I felt uneasy knowing there was a new person in my house but locking my door wasn't something I was used to doing. I glanced at the frame above my door, studying the charm my grandfather had given me as a child. He told me it was to ward away bad dreams and keep evil from entering.
