Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for making me dust off this manuscript again to read it! It's crazy to think something I wrote so long ago is actually so coherent. Since this was supposed to be the first of at least two books, I'll be thinking of the sequel as I update!
Who is your favorite character so far? Why? Any suggestions you guys could offer on the way would help a ton! Thanks :-)
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The schoolhouse loomed as they approached it, intimidating her with its sheer size. Then she thought of all the people that might be there. She didn't want to go in, but was curious as to what would happen. Could it be any worse than it had been at home? Perhaps so, but she wanted to find out herself. She was going to the asylum, anyway—may as well make a grand exit.
Olivia’s eyes darted over to the well; today it was not glowing.
The voice in her head kept repeating the same thing, as if reading a passage over and over. Had she been in the right state of mind, Olivia might have found the story interesting.
He let go, and watched the wolf strap fall into the blaze, almost in slow motion. He watched it wither quickly, but knew that it would reappear somewhere. “It always returns. That is not the way to be rid of it. Of course. The fires of hell do not destroy evil. They keep it within their grasp, letting the condemned one suffer for eternity. Why would a fire here on earth do any different?”
Olivia listened, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the things around her. Bookshelves. Elisabeth Wilder's strange painting. A snack table by the door. The kids in the back room offered her little more than a glance. They didn't really care about her being here, so they wouldn't notice her absence either.
Olivia searched the room for Ian. He was huddled in the far corner with a laptop, hard at work. She didn't want to disturb him, and probably wouldn't be the best choice for a conversation either.
Averil handed her a paper plate with a doughnut. Olivia thanked her and went to sit in the same spot as last night, where she ate halfheartedly. She gazed at the people, thinking about how nothing was unusual for them today. They were all doing fine except Olivia.
He felt everyone hold their breath. Soon the wolf strap was a pile of charred fur in the midst of the fire.
Since she was in a foul mood, the chocolate doughnut tasted like paper. Maybe she ought to think more about the mystery, the well, Averil's mom...
Funny, said the voice in her head suddenly. Sounds like Olivia. She's interested in all those things. Maybe it's rubbing off on me.
Her eyes snapped open. “What?” she mumbled. “What about Olivia?”
What do you mean, what about Olivia? She must've arrived by now. Oh yeah—there she is, against the wall there.
Wait a minute. Yes. I am against the wall here. What's going on? Olivia scanned the crowd; only one person seemed to know she was here. Ian frowned at her over the screen of his computer.
Suddenly she got an idea that was absurd. No, she thought, turning away quickly. No, it can't be!
There was dead silence. Finally, one more paragraph.
“I will no longer serve the devil,” he whispered. “It can return, but I shall not put it on. I will stay in the body God created for me, and pray for Him to accept me back. There is a way. It has not been found yet.” Slowly, he looked up at his listeners once more. “If you are with me, you shall do the same. If not, you are banished from my pack. Leave in the form you have chosen. I will not see the likes of you.”
Harsh, Olivia thought.
Not harsh, was the reply. It sounded like the voice was musing to itself—to himself.
They have to banish the bad guys from the group, he continued, as if this was something he recited in his sleep. They'll be traitors later. It's essential to the plot. Olivia heard him close the laptop, and wondered if he had figured it out yet himself. Because she had, and she didn't know what to think of it. He ought to know, too.
Olivia’s cell phone buzzed. She jumped and snatched it from her jacket pocket. It was Mom, probably on the road to her second job. She worked two places to support the both of them.
Hi Vee, just making sure you're ok. Txt back
Olivia hesitated. Would her mother believe that she was reading Ian’s thoughts? She said the other day that those things were silly. Anyway, she had better things to do than worry about her crazy daughter.
Olivia gazed at the text message, longing so badly to be home today. Not here, but her real home in Boise.
She realized Ian was heading this way, and didn't know what to do. Olivia met his gaze as he approached, then nodded to the entrance room. Follow me, Olivia thought, part of her hoping he wouldn’t hear—but when Ian blinked in confusion, she knew he had. She hurried out of the room, and stopped in front of the painting. Her eyes focused shakily on the grim images before her, as she struggled not to faint.
Ian stepped up somewhere behind; Olivia blanked her mind on purpose. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them. Then she finally looked him in the eye and croaked, “Ian.” His eyes filled with alarm, while Olivia struggled for words. Finally, she remembered a line from earlier—a line from his story.
“Even the pets of the devil need company,” she recited, holding his gaze.
Ian was shocked. “How did you—?” he stammered.
“I heard it all,” she whispered. “Because you were reading it today.” For some reason I can hear your thoughts, she finished silently. You can read mine, too. What happened? What's going on?
Olivia turned away, just before everything spiraled out of control. A feeling of desperation and terror came over her. She dropped the cell phone in her haste to the door, and didn't care to pick it up.
Ian called after her, but it did no good. Olivia flew past the well and the garden statues, far enough that he was out of earshot. She stumbled into the house, locked the door and sank to the ground. She cried herself out earlier today, so instead sobbed dryly.
Ian called her with his thoughts. Whether he did it on purpose, she did not know. But suddenly it was a chorus of Olivia! What's wrong? What's happened? Your phone—come back!
Olivia stood up and returned to the keyboard, picking out the song she wrote earlier. Numbly, she hit the keys. After all the confusing emotions today, her body wanted to shut down...just stretch out on the bed and sleep. She didn't give in, though, just kept playing.
I want, she thought. I...I want...Well, I don't know what I want.
Olivia, Ian called.
She ignored him. I want sleep. But I won't.
The doorbell rang, but she kept playing. She couldn't move, so even if she wanted to answer, it would take forever to get up.
The doorbell rang again.
“Solitude,” she sang in a whisper, not caring if it sounded like a song at all. Not caring if it was lame or cheesy. It was what she felt right now, so she liked it. “I need solitude tonight...my own thoughts are not mine...need a place to run and hide...”
Olivia, please let me in! We can figure out what this thing is! Let's call it part of the mystery. Please let me in.
Olivia stood and went to the door. Too much had happened today, so what could go wrong now? The only thing left was her dropping dead at his feet. She took a deep breath and unlocked the door. They stared at each other for several seconds, unwilling to say or think anything. Ian was pale but, as usual, much calmer than she had been. Olivia knew he would catch her if she fainted, even though she treated him like garbage moments ago. She wanted to hug him and apologize, but couldn't move.
“Come in,” she muttered last, turning away. Olivia dropped onto a couch and hugged herself tightly, while he came in and shut the door. She was not strong enough to offer him lemonade or anything now. All she wanted was to sleep... She looked up to see him standing there, watching her with a puzzled look on his face. “Take a seat.”
Ian sat next to her, but at the very edge of the couch, keeping a fair distance between them. “Olivia?” he asked cautiously.
She responded with a blank smile.
“I've been talking to you in my head all day? And I didn't even know it?”
Olivia nodded. “And I've been talking to you. First I thought you were a dream. Then I thought you were a voice in my head. I thought I finally went crazy.”
He fell into awed silence.
“What did you think I was?” she whispered, leaning her head back on the couch sleepily.
“I don't know,” he muttered. “I didn't really think anything of it. I knew it was unusual. I just—I dunno—thought it would pass.”
“I hoped it would pass, too. Today's been the worst day of my life,” Olivia blurted out suddenly, then tensed, hoping these words didn't hurt him.
“I understand,” he muttered.
Olivia exhaled. “What are we going to do if it doesn't go away?” She was filled with a strange dread at the thought.
“I don't know,” he whispered.
“Do you think we could ever...maybe...learn to live with it?”
“I don't know.”
“Would you learn to live with it?” Olivia wheezed. To emphasize her words, she finished in a thought. No privacy at all.
I don't know, he thought.
Nobody knows anything, Olivia retorted, sitting up. He was a guest, so she ought to offer him something.
“No, I'm fine,” he said quietly.
“Mom would kill me if I didn't. I'll go get cookies or something.” Olivia got up and headed to the kitchen. The coffee pot had been full since this morning, so she emptied it and set it on the counter. It was too late for coffee now—though it might help her be friendlier to Ian. She dug through the pantry and found some crackers. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
Want lemonade? she thought.
Ian didn't reply immediately. “No thank you,” he finally said, out loud.
Olivia closed the pantry and went back to the living room. He looked stressed, and she felt awful for being so rude. None of it was his fault—he didn't ask for this! She placed the crackers between them on the couch where they could both reach it, then searched for the remote. TV was mind-numbing; it might give them both a much-needed break.
She surfed the channels and stopped on a random movie; it was some thriller she'd never heard of. Olivia watched it in silence, wondering what she would tell her mother, who got back in about an hour. She had to explain why Ian was over so late.
“I'll just go,” he said. “If it's too much of a problem.”
Olivia shook her head. “Don't go. Not until we...discuss this...” She trailed off.
“What is there to discuss?” Ian asked. “We don't know how to undo it—unless it just wears off, or something.”
“Which I doubt would happen.”
“Yeah, but unless it just wears off, we're stuck with it.”
Olivia gazed unseeingly at the television. He had a point—there wasn't a solution. “So what do you think it is?” She opened the bag of crackers, just to do something with her shaky hands. “A curse? What?”
“I dunno.” He paused, musing. Then he asked, in a thought, You didn't toss any coins in the wishing well, did you?
No, Olivia answered at once. I wouldn't have a chance to, even if I wanted to. You walked me home last night, and I didn't leave for the rest of the day. It was already going on when I woke up. I didn't have time to leave before... She froze mid-thought, remembering how the wishing well glowed last night. Not long before that, her empty glass refilled itself—after she wished for it. Both were impossible, but they happened. Could there have been other things going on that night? Maybe, in her state of panic the night before—
Yes. She did wish—for one thoughtless moment—that he could read her mind, and she his. And even though it took a few hours, this wish was granted as well.
“I didn’t toss any coins,” Olivia whispered, trembling. “I swear. Ian, I swear—” Because he heard everything…her reminiscing, her panic. She didn’t dare to look at him.
There was a long silence in which Olivia wanted to cry.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ian whispered, barely moving. Maybe I made a stupid wish last night, too.
“It's my fault,” she whispered dizzily, taking deep breaths.
“No,” he said softly. Our fault. Forget about it tonight. We’ll work it out later.
Olivia gazed without interest as the hero of the movie blew stuff up. It felt as if she'd ran a hundred miles. Her body was weak and she hadn't eaten. “Do you know anything else weird that happened last night? Any other wishes that were…granted without coins?” she asked wearily.
“No,” he muttered, deep in thought. “I wonder if there are any journals from a hundred years ago that I could dig out. When the well was still in use, people became obsessed with recording every strange thing that happened.”
Olivia frowned. “So when did the strange things stop happening? Since according to you, they only began again after I had moved here.”
“I'm not entirely sure. That's another reason why I want the journals. I'll probably go door-to-door, interviewing older people. That is, if they're willing to talk about it.”
“Good idea. Can I come?”
“Yeah. You have to come, since it's more your mystery than mine.”
Olivia smiled wryly. She heard the door unlock, but wasn't worried anymore about her mother finding Ian. Mom couldn't blame her for inviting a friend if she was never around herself. Her mother sang softly as she hung her coat up on the rack, but stopped abruptly when she saw Ian.
“Hello,” Mom greeted him, and her voice sounded warm, if not a bit confused. “Who is this?”
Olivia introduced him, while he stared uncomfortably at the ground.
“Well, it's great of you to have friends over.” There was a warning hidden in her voice: You better have a reason why he's over so late. “I thought she wouldn't talk to anybody, when we first moved.”
Olivia came up with a quick explanation. “Well, we're watching a movie. I invited him over since it's on, and we both liked it.”
“What movie is it?”
I can't remember the name of the movie! she told Ian desperately. Ask her about the painting on the wall.
Ian sat up and asked, “Where did you get that painting?” Olivia was impressed by his acting skills—he really seemed to be interested. “It's one of my dad's favorites.”
She decided to make her mother's coffee while they discussed art. Ian left shortly after that, but they didn't bother saying goodbye since the conversation was not over. Not while they could still hear each others' thoughts.
Her mother smirked as soon as the door closed. “Why, of course you can have a boyfriend. Thanks for asking.” She sounded more teasing than angry.
Olivia was too tired to deny it. Also, she didn't want to. One thing hadn't changed—deep inside, she trusted him dearly, more than anyone else here. She just smiled.
She sat with her mother at the table for an hour, where they talked sleepily about random things. Even when upset with her mother, Olivia treasured the time they could have together. She finally had her cup of coffee, and a sandwich. It wasn't enough, but should get her through the night. She would have a real breakfast tomorrow.
A while later, she crawled into bed. She should probably get some research done...research on something...but was too tired.
Olivia? Ian asked suddenly—so he wasn't asleep, either.
Yes?
I won't use any of your thoughts against you—I mean—don't worry about that. Promise.
She gazed at the ceiling for a few seconds, then smiled. It was nice to hear him say—erm, think—this. Thanks, she replied, hiding her face under the covers. I won't, either. Use your thoughts against you, I mean.
He didn't reply, but she knew they'd reached an agreement. Olivia tried to clear her mind, so he'd have enough quiet to sleep. This was going to be awkward. She hoped they'd find a way to undo it soon, whatever it was.
But she would worry about that tomorrow.