Darkness Awakens

hate being apart from her for even a day. She had a summer internship that kept her from coming along. We talked every day. Three days before we were scheduled to come home, I had a terrible nightmare. I dreamt that she had walked into her mom's room and found her mom lifeless. Vanessa was crying hysterically. She grabbed her mom's phone off the nightstand and dialed 9-1-1. Through her hysterical cries, she was trying to breathe life back into her mom. I was seeing this from above them. I couldn't do anything to help. I was trying to make my way down to them, but I couldn't. I woke up in a panic. Something, intuition maybe, told me it had just happened. Something told me it wasn’t just a dream. I was fumbling around half asleep, trying to find my phone when it rang. I gulped, fear stricken. I answered, already knowing it was a very hysterical Vanessa on the other end. I was on the first plane back home. We had always had a tight connection. I always knew when something bad or exciting happened to her. I knew everything concerning Vessi. And she was the same way with me. Although we tend to scare people with our connection and ability to read each other’s mind, we found our friendship had always been very typical. People think we are weird and too close, but what does that even mean anyway? Isn’t it normal to know your best friend better than they know themselves and have a connected mind? Most friends can finish each other’s sentences and know they are calling even before the phone rings, right?

When Demien walked into our bar, something inside me woke up. It felt like a dark wave rolled into my body. Our connection and my instinct to protect her instantly became insanely concentrated, like I was injected with some crazy enhancing drug or something. Up until now, when someone threatened Vanessa, I would confront them, and that would be the end of it. They would back off and apologize with their tails between their legs. I remember in first grade, we were on the playground minding our own business when a third grader, Tyson Barron, came up to us and started making fun of Vanessa. I stood up and wedged myself between him and Vanessa. I was about an inch from him and stood about his same height, which I guess was scary enough that a kindergartener was as tall as a third-grade boy. I snarled or growled or maybe both, I don’t remember.

Anyway, Tyson’s eyes widened, and his face froze in fear. He looked like he had just seen a demon or something. He ran off crying like a girl. It was hilarious. What a wimp. Come to find out he liked her, but he never as much as looked our way again. That type of scenario played out through our life too many times to count. Over the last year, that protective instinct has taken over. I would have never imagined killing someone to protect Vanessa, but I can now… I would kill to protect my best friend. How many people can say that? I’d always thought only the most insane psychos, but I don’t know anymore. Maybe I am an insane psycho.

I find myself in the middle of a holy war that centers on Vanessa. Apparently, she was extremely important to a lot of people. I’m not even sure angels can be called “people.” They look like people. You can’t tell the difference. I don’t know a lot of what’s going on, but I have a feeling that somewhere, deep down, I know what’s going on. At least, I’m supposed to. I have more questions than answers. But somehow when it comes down to it, I pull through. I’m a badass. I can fight; I mean really fight. I can do, like, martial arts and stuff. It’s awesome. Who knew? Not me, that’s for sure.

I guess it all became too intense the night Demien walked into the bar. I was working my tables at the bar we work at. It was a pretty good night. I was calm and relaxed, joking around with some locals when my first “psycho” episode happened. I didn’t know why at the time, but my body went rigid. I slowly turned to Vanessa. Somehow, I knew exactly where she’d be. She was approaching table six. An outsider was sitting at the table alone. He was over-the-top hot, no doubt, but I was more concerned about Vanessa. I didn’t know who he was, and I didn’t care. I had my eyes glued to him. I was ready to pounce any minute.

“Myra! Yo, Myra,” Zane Caulfield, one of the locals I was talking with, yelled at me to get my attention.

“Oh, sorry, what?” I replied as I turned back to them.

All four guys started freaking out and climbing out of their chairs away from me.

“What? What is wrong with you guys?” As I moved closer to them, they backed up, tripping over their chairs.

Stephen pointed at me. “Hey guys, do you see that?” They were staring at me, creeping closer now.

“Yeah.” Zane and Terry said in unison, terrified.

“It’s the devil. She has the devil in her.” Corey’s eyes were wide, and his face was sheet white. He was inching backward and then turned and ran out.

“Myra, how did you do that?” Zane asked, intently staring at me. None of the guys ever so much as blinked. Zane and Terry stared into my eyes.

“I don’t understand. Do what? I didn’t do anything.”

“That thing with your eyes,” Terry interjected.

“What thing with my eyes? Someone would please make some sense,” I demanded.

“Your eyes are, I mean were, black. You were chillin’ with us. Then you froze, and it looked like you spaced out. You turned to look at something for a few minutes. When