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...
My eyes traveled to the loft above my head, watching for any signs of life. I knew Casimir was upstairs in his room and I wondered if he heard our conversation, as voices tended to travel through our thin walls. I gathered my nerves and made my way up the steps to the second floor, hesitating at the sliding door.
Come on Diana, what's the worst that happens? He says 'no'. Or do you want that? I knocked softly.
"Yes?"
I cracked open the door, peering inside slowly. "Hey, sorry to bug you but-" I stopped short, noticing Casimir had headphones in his ears. He pulled them out and nodded at me. "I was wondering if you would be interested in going to the grocery store?"
Casimir was sitting on the floor, his back against the edge of his bed. In his lap was a large, old-looking book. He closed it, placing it in a stack of notebooks near his side. "Sounds good, I can grab some stuff while I'm there," he said. "Just let me change real fast."
"You betcha," I said, quickly sliding the door closed as I spoke. I was about to turn and head downstairs when I noticed I hadn't shut the door entirely. Through the crack, I could see Casimir's reflection in the mirror. I froze in my spot, hand outstretched for the handle. He had taken off his shirt and thrown it onto the bed. My eyes went straight to a large mark on his right shoulder. It was dark peach in color and looked like a pair of horns with a circle around it. It was so precise and intricate that despite the coloring I knew it couldn't be an actual birthmark, more like a tattoo.
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The longer I stared the more I began to second-guess myself. I knew one thing for sure, I had seen this symbol before. My heart skipped a beat as I examined Casimir's bare shoulders and the lines of his back. He was covered in lots of scars, and some even looked like an animal had attacked him. When he turned I saw a large burn going from his left shoulder down into his chest, and I gasped quietly to myself. What happened to him? I thought silently to myself. The longer I stared the more I wondered if he would pose for a painting as I found his scars fascinating.
I threw my eyes down towards the floor, scolding myself internally for staring and invading Casimir's privacy. I backed away slowly, trying not to make a sound as I inched down the stairs, a task that was next to impossible in our creaky old house. Once on the first floor, I made a mad dash for my coat and purse, trying to pretend like I wasn't just spying on my new housemate but instead waiting patiently by the door. Casimir appeared from the staircase just as I was checking my purse for all its important content.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said.
"It's no big thing," I replied, taking in Casimir's appearance. He had added a few extra layers for the trip into town, wearing a dark blue t-shirt under a plaid shirt with his usual pair of jeans. He grabbed his military-style canvas jacket from the coat rack, shrugging it onto his shoulders in one quick movement. I realized I was staring, so I dug into my purse, pretending to check for my phone.
