I've been so wrapped up in all this ghost drama that on the day of my first exam, I forget it's the day of my first exam. It's not until Tom asks me if he can borrow a pen for his own exam that I remember. He lost all of his over Christmas, apparently. Not quite sure how that happens, but I didn't dare question it because I'd only be bombarded with some weird, elaborate story.
He dyed his hair red over the holiday, which he explained to me was in honour of the festive season, despite the fact he did it about a week after Christmas. It's better than the badly bleached blonde it was before, I guess. Sort of. Everyone has moved back in now other than Carmen, and maybe Mason. He's not made an appearance, but he doesn't show his face during term time either. He could've been home all through the holidays, for all I know.
I don't even really think about the exam much while I'm taking it. It's for my hydraulics module, and thankfully, I find this crap quite easy. Annabel offers to cheat for me a few times throughout the hour and a half, and while I appreciate the gesture, I decline.
I got her to check through my notes, which contained the answer to a question I was stuck on in my Spanish GCSE exam once, and I've felt like a fraud ever since. I feel confident enough with how it went without Annabel's aid anyway. I don't think I've gotten a first or anything, but I can't see me having failed. I can't say I really care, to be perfectly honest. I've got a fair few distractions at the moment.
I go to the student bar at The Cavern after the exam, and order myself a whisky and coke. I've only been to this place three or four times, and I'm not really sure why. There's a really chilled atmosphere, and the booths they have here are the comfiest things I've ever planted my arse on. The music played is based on request too, and because it's pretty quiet here at the moment as it's still morning, I'm basically choosing every song. It smells slightly of syrup and stale beer mats, and the colour theme centres around a blinding hot pink and purple, but I guess it adds character to the place.
There should probably be some alarm bells ringing in my head over the fact I'm in a bar drinking alone at eleven in the morning, but hey, we all have our flaws. I promise Annabel I'm not getting drunk or anything, but based on the fact she's sitting opposite me with a face like thunder suggests she doesn't completely trust me.
It just feels like I've hit a brick wall, like I should be doing something about all of these weird occurrences, but what? It's not exactly something you can just Google. The only option I can think of is to return to the haunted manor and find that female spirit. She seemed to have a decent idea of how things work in the afterlife. I groan as I lower my head onto the sticky table, and become one with the peanut crumbs and beer stains.
"Exam went well then?"
A voice startles me, and when I lift my head back up to see Carmen standing over my booth, I start stuttering like a deranged broken record. I don't know if I'm only noticing this because I've not seen her for over three weeks, but she has a glow about her. Her hair is pulled up into some kind of ponytail or braid or something, but a strand has fallen out and is tucked messily behind her ear. There's a dimple in her cheek as she smirks at me. I forgot how much I fancied her. Well shit. Another thing to add to my current car crash of a life.
"If it's any consolation, the inevitability of my exam failure is driving me insane. Turns out putting up Christmas decorations and getting drunk on toffee cider most nights is far more fun than revising Portuguese grammar," Carmen says as she sits down opposite me.
"Sounds better than my holiday of not trying to murder Jamie in his sleep," I argue.
"Touché. I'm surprised you both made it to January alive, actually." She reaches over to my drink, then takes a sip, only for her face to contort into a look of pain. "Holy--You do realise it's not even midday yet, right?"
"I have sorrows to drown," I mutter. "You owe me five pence for that sip, by the way."
She raises her eyebrows at me challengingly as she bites her lip to fight a smile off her face, and I don't know if it's because I've not had any female contact for several weeks, but it's kind of hot. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness, I raise my own eyebrows in return and reach my hand out to Carmen. The grin that's been trying to break itself onto her lips finally appears, and she reaches into her jacket pocket to bring out a ten pence coin. She drops it into my hand.
"Keep the change." She winks.
"Hey," Annabel says out of nowhere, and I glance at her. I forgot she was sitting with us. "Yeah, hey. Hi. I'm here, just to remind you. I'd rather not watch you blatantly flirt with each other over the table, thanks."
I ignore her, then proceed to throw the coin Carmen gave me back at her. She manages to smack it away, and it rolls onto the floor, but neither of us bother to pick it back up. Annabel groans, then swiftly vanishes. She's such a prude. I'm about to ask Carmen what time she got here when a waiter approaches the table with a basket of chips, and places them in-between us.
"Feel free to take some. I figured you needed some food in you considering you looked on the verge of a breakdown when I spotted you in here," Carmen says to me after thanking the waiter. She grabs a chips and throws it into her mouth. "D'you know why this place is called The Cavern?" she asks, to which I shake my head. "The city's underground caves run underneath the uni, and apparently, there's an entrance to them in here somewhere."
"Really?" I ask, genuinely interested. "That's pretty cool."
"You and your caves," she says with an eye roll. "My mum sends her love, by the way. I think she fancies you. Our pseudo relationship can't break down, she'll be ruined. Well, either that or she'll use it as her opportunity to nab you while you're on the market."
"That's cool with me, she's hot," I reply as I grab a chip from the red basket.
Carmen smacks my hand away, but it's too late. I throw the chip into my mouth and flash her a cheesy grin, accompanied by a mouth full of food.
"You're actually disgusting," she says as she fights back a cringe.
I'm kind of over the moon that she appeared this morning. Without even being aware of herself doing it, she has this faultless ability to de-stress me, which temporarily fools me into thinking I'm not some mutated dead person therapist when I'm around her. I take another chip from the table because I can feel a headache creeping on, and I figure it must be because I've not eaten yet today. They're kind of soggy, and are a little too much on the salty side, but I'm too hungry to care.
"You all right?" Carmen asks me as I'm finishing off the chips, to which I respond with a questioning look. She nods at my hands. "You keep moving your hands about."
Do I? They do feel a little weird, like I have pins and needles. I must be doing it subconsciously or something. I brush it off to Carmen, but she doesn't look completely convinced. The food hasn't improved my headache much either, but it's hardly unbearable, so I just ignore it. It isn't until Carmen is in the middle of a story about how her uncle got really drunk really early on New Year's Eve, and ended up passing out in their local pub's bathroom by seven, that I realise what's going on.
Please no.
My eyes are on Carmen, and I really don't want to look outside the booth, but I'm going to have to. Besides, I might be wrong. I might just be paranoid. I swallow, then turn my head, and standing solitarily against the wall opposite us is a Tracker.
Nah, screw this guy. I'm not dealing with this right now.
"I'm just gonna pop to the toilet," I say, interrupting Carmen, only to apologise for interrupting her and looking like a dick in the process.
I rush to the toilet at the other end of the bar with my head down. I doubt avoiding eye contact makes much of a difference, but I'll just pretend it does to make me feel better. Even if it does, I've already looked directly at the thing. The gents is empty when I enter. The Tracker doesn't seem to have followed me, so that's something.
I have a pee I don't even really need to try and calm myself, only for a guy to come in and use the urinal right next to mine. There are plenty available at the other end, which just makes things worse. I'm gazing at my reflection in the mirror when my new friend leaves, and I'm deathly pale. My vision is a little blurry from my headache, but even then, I can see how crap I look.
I'm in dire need of a shave and a haircut, and the artificial lighting in the bathroom seems to highlight the only scar I have from my parents' accident. It cuts through my left eyebrow, stopping any hair from growing there. I've still got a mark on my other eyebrow from the New Year's poltergeist assault too. God, I look rough.
As I lift my eyes back up from washing my hands, I jump. It's there. Behind me. I can't be arsed for this anymore. I really, really can't. I inhale a sharp intake of breath, briefly shut my eyes, then turn around to face the creature. It's about five feet away from me.
"What d'you want?" I ask dumbly. It says nothing. Just stares at me with its black irises. "Look, mate, can we just cut to the chase here? I can't be bothered for your creepy arse anymore, and to put it bluntly, you're annoying. Really, really annoying."
It tilts its head, then manifests closer to me. Not by much--no more than a foot. It doesn't say anything. Surprise, surprise.
"If you want something, you can ask me, y'know. It'll save us both a lot of stress," I continue, to no reply.
The Tracker shifts forward again. It's pretty much standing right in front of me by now. I'm not sure if it's because I'm used to the feeling, but the pain that usually comes with these things is nowhere near as strong as it was before. My head still aches, but it's more of a numb throbbing now.
I stare at the creature, and push against it with my mind like I did at the manor house. That's easier now too. As the need to give one more push niggles at the back of my neck, I stop myself. I don't want to vanquish this thing. I want an explanation.
"Look mate, I'm pretty sure I can get rid of you easy, so let's compromise here," I announce. "You give me some idea of what the hell is going on here, and I won't send your arse back to where it came from. Deal?"
My headache subsides briefly, and I think it might have finally gotten its thick head around what I'm trying to say, but it doesn't speak. It does nothing. Just keeps staring. If anything, its unnaturally downturned mouth lifts the slightest bit. Then its arm shoots out, touches my shoulder, and it burns. It's like a knife has been thrust into my collarbone, as shockwaves of pain tear down through the rest of my body, and before I even realise it's happening, everything is black.
When I wake up, I'm not in the bathroom anymore. I'm somewhere familiar. There are arms around me, hair in my face. I can't see anything. I don't know how I know I've been here before, I just do. It smells of sweat and perfume, and the scent is so familiar that it almost winds me, but I don't understand what it is. There's screaming. There's a voice in my ear, a voice trying to soothe me. It's muffled, but I know I recognise it. I know this situation; I just can't remember it.
After a few minutes, I manage to poke my eye through a gap in the arms around me. I see leaves, branches. We're in a bush. Are we hiding? What are we hiding from? There's a lot of flashing light, but there's darkness. Deep, black darkness. They're both appearing in bursts. I shuffle around to get a better look, but the arms around me hold me still.
"Felix, just stay! Don't look at them!"
I know that voice. I know whose arms are wrapped around me. Annabel. I say her name but the words aren't leaving my mouth. I can't make any sound. I try again, and nothing. It's like I'm stuck in a body I have no control over. Just as it's beginning to feel like I'm trapped in a recurring nightmare, a sudden flurry of blackness is shot in our direction.
Annabel picks me up, and we run out of the bushes onto a road, barely missing the attack. I'm momentarily confused. How is she holding me? She's almost a foot shorter than me. Then I remember this isn't real, and when it was real, I was an eight-year-old kid while she was a sixteen-year-old girl.
We're crouched behind a car now. Our family car. There's a man sitting in the driver's seat, and his eyes are open but I don't think he's alive, and I think he's my father because he's wearing a jacket I've seen my father wear in photos, except its bloodstained now and he's not smiling like he does in the photos.
I can barely breathe, and I don't think it's eight-year-old me who's struggling. Where's our mother? Is this before my past visions? It has to be. Annabel is alive. We're still crouched behind the car, and there's more light than dark now. I think that's good. I don't know. Annabel doesn't let go of me.
I'm looking up at my dad. I don't know why, but I can't stop, and I don't know if it's present or past day me gazing at him. He looks so real.
"Felix! Run!" Annabel suddenly screams, her voice breaking.
It all happens before I can even process it. I snap my head to my sister, and Annabel pushes me away from the car. She pushes too hard, so I stumble to the ground, and when I look back at her, all I see is darkness where she was, and then her body is being thrown into the air like a rag doll, and she's lying on the car bonnet and her eyes are open, but she's not there.
Hands grab me from under my arms, and I'm flying. Then I'm back on the ground, and it's damp and cold, and I'm looking into my mother's eyes. She's crying. She's telling me not to look at something, and it's like a sick game of déjà vu. This is where my visions usually start.
I need it to keep going. I want it to end, I don't want to see this anymore, but I need it to keep going. I need to understand. I'm watching Annabel. Her eyes are parted open slightly, but she's not moved. I can't see my father from here. The bright lights are increasing. If this is some kind of battle, I think they're winning.
There's a light-headedness buzzing through my body. My eyelids feel heavy. No. No, no, no. I have to stay here. I try to force myself to stay present, but as each second passes, I can feel myself slipping out of this dream. Everything becomes more and more distorted and hazy, and there's nothing.
Moments later, I'm back in the bathroom. I'm on the floor, and my back is leaning against the tiled wall. There's a guy crouched over me, and he's saying something but my ears are ringing, so I can't hear him. I think he's asking me for my name. I say it anyway, then mutter something about a migraine. He looks like another student because he has a young face, but he's got the bar uniform on. I think he's a waiter here.
The guy nods. "Are you with anyone here?" he asks, to which I nod, then mutter something about Carmen. "Ah, I know, table fourteen. Wait here."
I don't even notice him leaving, but the guy's gone. My head is throbbing, and I feel sick. I'm shaking. I blink my eyes to clear my vision, but it doesn't help much. There's a female voice, and I assume it's Carmen, but quickly realise it's not. It's too high-pitched.
"Felix? Hey... Hey, say something." Annabel.
The image of her on the car bonnet flashes through my mind.
"Felix? You're freaking me out now, what happened? Did that thing hurt you?"
She touches my face with her palm, and it's warm and soothing. She gives every other living thing a shiver down their spine, but to me, she's always warm. I immediately feel better.
Her wide eyes are boring into mine, and she looks older than I've ever seen her. Her dark hair frames her oval face, and I have this overwhelming desire for her to look after me. I've not properly seen her as my older sister for a long time, but right now, that's exactly what she feels like.
"Annabel," I finally manage to say quietly. "Mum didn't sacrifice your life for mine. You did."