image [https://storage.googleapis.com/rocky-production/story_images/big_7b5575593cfe9fe79d2183f2b795a28e.jpg]
Pendle
Why does he feel familiar? His eyes locked on mine as he held me.
I continued to stare and could see the sunset reflected in his blue eyes as he leaned me back. My breath escaped slowly; the white flakes in his eyes became apparent as he pressed clearer.
A slight breeze made me shiver. His heat enveloped me as I pressed into him, basking in the closeness. Our noses are touching, our breath mingling, and our heart rate soaring.
It was addictive.
I followed his lead, edging slowly, wanting the sweet kiss I craved. A little more, a little more...
Then I was freefalling.
Thud.
----------------------------------------
‘Ouch, that’s going to leave a mark.’
Cocooned in the bed covers, my eyes opened to view my bedroom’s cream-carpeted floor.
Whining aloud, I wrestled out of the warm bed sheets. My heart was still beating fast, reeling from the dream; it stirred feelings of familiarity.
Three times this week, he has haunted my dreams. He is a stranger I have never met and will probably never meet, yet…
′Yet what?′ the thought intruded my brain before I could stop it.
Shaking my head cleared the unsettled thoughts and feelings. And yet, I am terrified by the fear of rejection, of hurting.
Throwing the covers back to the bed, I glanced at the bedside clock, 6:27 am. The light of dawn barely lit the room. I clicked off the alarm; there was no point in returning to sleep now.
It’s just another Thursday—a school morning full of routine. At least Easter break was close.
I knocked on my brother’s door.
“Come on, Alex. Time to get up,” I half-shouted through the white door.
A rustling of covers and a quiet groan was my reply.
Turning into the bathroom, I caught my forest green eyes in my reflection and paused. Taking in the pale face I know so well, cheeks flushed with a red tinge.
I often wished to look different, as most young girls do—sharp cheekbones instead of my rounder face. But then again, my friends did say I was blessed with dimples, even if it was just one on the left.
I smiled at fond memories of my friends. I took in the lengthy blonde hair that was desperate for a cut.
′Yeah, still a copy of my dad.′
A now wistful smile graced my face. A knocking on the bathroom door, bursting the daydream I had put myself in.
“Hurry up, Lexi!” Alex whined shortly after. “I really need to go!”
Taking a small step back, with the water still running, I spoke aloud, “Hm, is that water I hear?”
“Stop it!” Now exasperated.
Chuckling, I shut off the tap and opened the door as slowly as possible.
“What’s the matter-?” Before I could finish my teasing remark, he pulled me out of the way and slammed it shut. I only got a glimpse of the top of his dark blonde mop.
‘Rude.’
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
I started to walk back to my room to change from my pink pyjamas.
“Hey!” Alex shouted from down the hall, “When’s Mum back?” he questioned.
Pausing with my door open, I looked back towards the bathroom, where his head stuck out.
“Probably after we leave. Make sure to stay quiet when you get home,” I replied, leaning into the door frame.
He nodded and vanished into the bathroom, my eyes following his hair, and I heard the shower turn on. Damn it, Alex.
“You better be quick in there!” annoyance is clearly in my voice.
I heard a faint reply of ‘yeah, yeah.’ back.
Our mum was due back from a 2-day trip. She worked as an Executive Assistant. So sometimes it was just my brother and me in the house.
----------------------------------------
At 7:32 am, Alex decided to come downstairs—racing into the kitchen, hair slightly wet, dressed and hungry.
“Breakfast?” he asked, seemingly out of breath.
“Toaster,” I retorted just as it pinged up, “We still have some time.”
I resumed my admiration of Sooty on the table. He chattered at the birds eating seeds from the feeders in the shade of an apple tree.
I get up from the chair, polish off an Earl Grey tea and place it into the sink. I glowered at my brother, eyebrows pinching together as he nearly inhaled the pop-tarts.
Leisurely, I walk to the bottom of the stairs and put on my shoes. I looked through both of our backpacks, and I checked that I had everything. Books, pens, pencils, planner, money for lunch, my phone…
“Oh shit,” I mumbled; how could a teenager forget their phone?
Groaning, I took the steps two at a time to my bedroom. As I picked up the mobile, I glanced out my window.
The empty house for sale down the road had movement.
A man in a fine business suit, an estate agent, walking with a ‘SOLD’ sign to the house. He covered the ‘For Sale’ to ‘SOLD’.
I checked the time and pocketed my phone while wandering back down the bottom of the stairs, where Alex was putting on his shoes.
“Have you got everything?” I asked.
He looked over his shoulder at me and nodded, still chewing his breakfast.
----------------------------------------
We vacated the house, and while double-checking the lock, I informed Alex, “We have movement.”
Alex looked down at the empty house as he opened my car’s passenger door and huffed before cheekily smiling, “Hopefully, they will be nicer than the last ones!”
He referred to the previous family, the Mants, specifically their only child, Megan.
She was a typical teenager, 17 years old, the same as me. I tended to avoid her and her friends. Although, when she picked on my brother, she got what was coming to her.
Since then, it felt like she was suspicious of us.
As witches, we try to keep on the downlow. Misinformation and fearmongering spread quicker than a flame, creating witch hunts and trials and killing many innocent people.
Humans knew of our existence, as well as other ‘fairytale’ beings, but fear of things that are different. Fear of something stronger than you and often they seek out supernaturals. They go looking for trouble with the werewolves and vampires around – who wouldn’t want strength or to live forever?
Making new supernaturals is more complex than a scratch or a bite or picking up a wand like in the movies, another reason for witches to stay hidden.
Now, the fae… They loved to torment and mess around with humans…
----------------------------------------
From beside me, my brother groaned, putting a hand to his face.
“What? Don’t tell me I need to turn around,” I asked playfully.
“No,” he replied, “I just remembered I have maths this morning.”
I laughed wholeheartedly at him.
----------------------------------------
Leo
He was dreaming of her again...
The long golden tresses flowed in the slight breeze as she weaved in and out of the trees. She stopped slowly in front of a deep, gentle river. Turning to look at me, those same green crystal eyes. The kind that seems to look right into the soul. It shook him to the core, but that’s all he ever saw—never her facial features. Everything is a quick blur with sleep. Just a whisper that left him wanting more. It’s always the same. Although, this time, he caught the curve of her bosom.
But this time, she backed away from him into the stream seductively. She goes in knee-deep, still facing him. Her face is slightly more transparent now, plump pink lips looking kissable, open. Speaking. Whispering.
Closer, he must get closer. Walking forward, he tries to gain distance, but his body seems to move through a thick treacle. Now, she turns away, sinking into the water further.
“Follow me down to the river.”
The voice reached his ear as clear as the water, seductive and taunting.
He broke out of the captivating dream with a sweat. Wiping it away from his forehead, he recalled the dream, savouring it. She was more apparent this time. Why?
He quickly walked over to the worn-out book of shadows on the bare desk and wrote down everything he remembered before it disappeared. The morning sun cleared through the curtains.
His mind woke up a little more with the warmth through the window, illuminating the bare room he called a bedroom from childhood. It did not seem like he had eight hours of sleep, but indeed, his phone did not deceive him.
Today, he was moving to a new place, a new life. Or so his Da’s wife, Cynthia, told him. After not knowing his birth mother, he happily called her Ma within a few weeks of meeting her at age five.
A knock came at the door, echoing in the room. “Best be awake, bro. We go in 20. Long drive and all.” The voice of his brother, Derek, chirped through the wood.
“Yeah, okay,” he responded, gruff-like with a Scottish timbre.
He ruffled his hair, tangled from the sleep, and moved to the box in the corner to fetch clean clothes as the rest was packed.
Taking one last look at the house. He left it behind with his family; there was no one worth saying goodbye to; he hoped not to be found by old faces either. It was going to be a long journey. Goodbye Glenrothes, Hello Pendle.