Divinity: The Gathering: Book One Read online

  My eyes subsequently darted frantically around, and then I glanced down at myself. I was still in my tank top and boxer shorts, which was what I usually wore to bed, but I was standing in the middle of the living area, and my cheek burned.

  I was okay.

  I was alive and okay I thought as I examined my forearms and skin for marks.

  There were no burns or scrapes of any kind that I could see. I rubbed them absently anyway, remembering all the other vivid sensations that I felt in the dream then too.

  “Jesus Star, you had me scared to death. Are you okay?” She asked as she stood up again.

  “Why were you slapping me?” I whispered as I rubbed my still tingling cheek in confusion.

  “You were fighting me, so I had to. I’m sorry— I didn’t know what else to do, and you were really freaking the hell out of me,” China ran a hand through her hair and then gestured with a sweep of her arm toward the kitchen, “I came out to get something to drink, and you were lying under the coffee table. I’m like, w-t-f? I wasn’t sure what you were doing there, and your eyes were open. You seemed to be looking right at me, but you weren’t responding to anything I was saying. Shit, I thought you were seizing or something, so I shoved the table over; I picked you up and tried to slap you out of it. Then you grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let go.” She explained.

  I paused to ruminate over what she just told me and her story made sense, “Well I think you took a little extra pleasure in that personally though. That hurt.” I then said irritably.

  She grinned and shrugged her shoulders innocently, “Sorry.”

  I pressed my lips with a sigh and turned around to look at the floor behind me in brief confusion. Sure enough the coffee table had been tipped over askew, and I apparently had been under it…under the Cadillac.

  I should have known it was just a dream. It was one of many, all with the same themes and though the dreams have been escalating for a while now; this one had been completely different aside from the fact that I had never had any kind of interaction or dialogue with anything in any of my dreams before. I had always been the observer and lost amid the chaos.

  Accompanied by all the other horrific images; this time though too. . . I had been hunted down, and the dark angel had known exactly where to find me. Worst of all, he knew my full name and not just him…he said ‘We’ as if they all knew my name and were going to torture me eternally somehow, in some way in addition to his stench alone.

  That threat could have meant anything symbolically but for some reason, I took it literally.

  The thought provoked a feeling of fear, dread and hopelessness in me, especially when I thought back to the baby I couldn’t save and what the dark angel had said to me about having many of my own with ‘Him’. Who was him or them for that matter?

  “So, are you okay?” China asked me softly. Her jade green eyes searched my face with concern after I snapped out of my own thoughts and looked at her.

  I sighed and nodded, wiping the sweat from my forehead and feeling matted wisps of curls stuck against my damp skin. I inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and swallowed again to calm myself and attempt to block the last images of the realistically charged dream from my brain.

  China retreated into the kitchen, “I’m gonna get you some water. I mean, I know you’re never supposed to wake a sleepwalker, and now I know why, but I figured I was doing you a favor. This is the first time I’ve seen you do something like this. Was it another end of the world nightmare?” She then asked.

  It was the first time for me.

  I’d never slept walked before in my life, but this particular dream had been just that real.

  “Yeah, pretty much.” I said rubbing my eyes into more focus.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” She then asked.

  I took one last look at the coffee table before turning it onto its legs and setting it straight again and then headed into the kitchenette and pulled out a barstool. I plunked down on it and rubbed my face with both hands, elbows resting on the bar counter top as she slid a cold bottle of Dasani in front of me. I eyed it for a moment in deep thought as I inhaled and then exhaled slowly once again and rolling my head in a circular motion to work out the stiffness and kinks in my neck.

  “Not really. There’s nothing much to talk about. It’s the same stuff.” I told her taking the cold plastic bottle and unscrewing the cap.

  She paused for a moment and watched me, taking a long drink of her own water.

  I took my own long sip, feeling grateful for the cold fluid as it flowed through me instantly, quelling the residual heat of the dying adrenaline still coursing throughout my body.

  “You’re starting to look more and more like Uncle Fester’s love child girl. Nothing that night cream and a few cucumber slices won’t cure though.” She then chuckled.

  I frowned, “Thanks. What time is it?” I then asked.

  “A quarter past three in the morning. You seriously need more rest, and you’re obviously not getting it when you dream like that.”

  “No but I’m certainly burning a hell of a lot of calories that’s for sure.” I smiled while rubbing my eyes.

  China pressed her lips in a smile and looked at me wanly,

  “Funny. You know stress is the main cause of nightmares. I mean, maybe…maybe…you should consider sleeping pills or talking to someone.” She then said carefully.

  I looked up at her almost accusingly.

  She put her bottle of water down and held up her both of hands in a placatory manner.

  “No, no I know what you’re thinking but that’s not what I’m meaning at all. I just think that maybe these nightmares may be linked to something you’ve been repressing.” She then said.

  I eyed her.

  “Something like what?” I asked her.

  She licked her lips in hesitation, her eyes averted from mine for a few seconds as she took another long gulp of her water.

  I knew where she was about to go with this again. It’s what I had thought at one point myself, but I was over the grief or at least; I had moved past it, and I learned to deal with it on my own a long time ago.

  She took her time in continuing, “It may help you. I don’t like seeing you like this, and lately it seems to be getting worse. It makes you boring and bitchy. I care about you Star, you’re my best friend.” She then soothed.

  My mouth fell slightly, “Boring and bitchy? Katrina was seven years ago China and these dreams have nothing to do with hurricanes,” I told her, still trying to figure out what she meant by boring and bitchy.

  Boring maybe, I’ll give her that, but I was not a bitch.

  She went on, “No, but honestly— from what you’ve told me, and that fact that you see things like shadows and stuff all the time, which could be representations or manifestations of other things deep within your subconscious, it may be a possibility. I just think that the themes centered around the end of the world, and since you’ve lived through and survived the horrors, tragedy and devastation of what may have seemed like the end of the world to you directly as a child; It may be something that you haven’t addressed or gotten past yet, and it’s trying to resurface itself,” China explained like a seasoned psych major giving a graded dissertation on tragedy and the subconscious mind.

  “I’ve been seeing shadows and other weird phenomena practically since I was born. So how do you explain that Professor Braswell?” I reminded her.

  She appeared thoughtful, “I know but what I meant is…maybe since you are afraid of the dark, it could be a coping mechanism that shows up as shadows or in your nightmares whenever you’re stressed. You might have something going on your subconscious that you might not be aware of.” She went on to explain.

  I looked at her inquisitively, wondering if there had been a recent Dr. Phil marathon on television that China may have been watching, and then I smirked.

  “That was deep and profound Dr. Braswell and since when did you switch your major to psychology? I thought
you were a public media affairs' geek?” I then teased.

  She burst into a giggle, and even I had to laugh at that one.

  “Well, I’ve got my diverse psychology hat on right now and all joking aside, I’m serious. At least let me get you some Ambien’s or something. What with finals coming up,” She rolled her eyes and sighed, “And I know you’re not going to cut back your time at the hospice or the Y, you’re gonna need all the rest you can get.” She then said.

  I shook my head no, “I’ll figure something out. You know I don’t like taking pills like that.” I told her.

  “Well, you’ve never done this sleep walking stuff before either. I’m only trying to help in case I’m not here one night.” She then said.

  “I’ll be okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have finished the rest of my spicy lo mein so late last night.”

  “What?” China chuckled with a quirked brow.

  I smiled weakly.

  “My grandmother always told me, never eat spicy food before bedtime because it causes nightmares.” I then told her.

  Her eyes widened, and she nodded in thought with a fist on her cocked hip, “You know, I’ve read about that too from some medical website before. It’s a possibility but with you, I sincerely doubt it. Anyway, it won’t hurt to take some just for a few days to catch up on your sleep at least. I think we need either some retail or club therapy while we have the time. Midnight’s blues is having a happy hour tomorrow night from four to eight.” She grinned.

  I looked at her wryly, “Yeah that’s helpful considering neither one of us is twenty-one, and college town is cop central.” I replied as I took another long swig of water.

  “Star you are such a cube. You seem to be forgetting we have connections. How about Zen to Five then? Not in college town and happy hour is the same time there too.” She persuaded with a grin.

  “I’m not gonna risk Joel getting into trouble for us.” I replied.

  Zen to Five is a popular sushi karaoke bar on the outskirts of college town owned by my other best friend Joel Carson’s aunt and uncle.

  China rolled her green eyes at my negativity, “You preach about that every single time. Don’t worry, he won’t. I’ll talk to him, and if I can get it all set up will you go? I mean if anything— killer sushi, come on.” She added and nudged me to consider it.

  I shrugged a shoulder and sighed.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I answered; finally giving in and closing my eyes, momentarily thinking about the dream again.

  “Well, I’ll round up the posse anyway so we can make this happen.” She smiled excitedly.

  Personally, I think I needed something stronger than getting wasted to get a break from all the haunting visions and nightmares…like a lobotomy or something.

  “Guess I’ll catch up on some homework then. I don’t wanna go back to sleep.” I sighed as I slid off the barstool and headed toward my room.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Were there demons in this one too?” She called.

  I turned to face her as I stepped into my room about to close the door, “Not just demons, and if there’s any significance to it, believe me China— you won’t wanna know anyway. See ya this afternoon.” I said closing my door.

  II: Starling:

  I actually arrived to my first morning class early after stopping for a quick breakfast of an overripe banana, strong, sludge-like espresso and chasing it all down with a five-hour energy drink.

  Not smart.

  The caffeine high was cooking my brain now; assembling and carrying out both thoughts and actions before I could even physically act on them, so I hoped no one mistook me for being some sort of speed or meth addict. I thought I’d have hours before the ugly crash and burn but no— I was paying the price now…during the most mind-numbing class on my schedule.

  China was right.

  This lack of sleep was killing me physically. Maybe I was so far under with fatigue that I have been hallucinating.

  No, I knew better.

  The things I see and dream about have been with me since childhood, but this was the first time I had actually physically moved from one room to the other without realizing it though. It worried me because who was to say next time I wouldn’t end up outside somewhere on the campus lawn, in the parking lot or possibly half naked in the middle of the corridor and get locked out?

  I tried to stave off an oncoming yawn as I glanced at the time on the display of my cell phone. Eight fifty two in the a.m. and I was aching with exhaustion. My eyes burned and watered as my mouth opened of its own volition. I took in a suction of breath that morphed into a long, obnoxious yawn, which took my body temperature down a few more notches to prepare for sleep or a coma.

  I’ve survived being in comas before as a child. Being ill to the point of death and wishing I could just die to end it several times in my life before and of course, one of the most major, devastating natural disasters of all time by the name of Katrina. Even the emotional loss of my parents and my Grandmother couldn’t equal the fear and devastation that I both felt and witnessed in these recurring nightmares. My experiences have all been really, really bad but the events in my dreams would make all of that seem like simple annoying obstacles at best.

  If I could describe just a few of my dreams to anyone, it would sound like the ranting of a person one step away from being committed to an insane asylum.

  Thousands of space ship looking things in the skies, massive tidal waves and walls of water all over the world, huge mutant scavenger birds, the earth opening up and thousands upon thousands of demons, angels, warriors and armies of both light and dark coming from the deep depths of the earth and the sky— would about sum up my history of nightmares in one paragraph.

  I had no gifts. I was no psychic or clairvoyant, and I certainly don’t claim to be the religious type but if what I had witnessed in my dreams were actually going to happen in some way, shape, form or means it would shut everyone up no matter how much money you had, what you chose to believe or not believe in or what religion you were.

  It was all draining and maddening because having the dreams alone didn’t count being constantly stalked and occasionally taunted by those black shadows and spirits for years ever since I can remember. I only trusted my grandmother, China and Joel with the details of my experiences and what I could see. Joel used to tell me he could see things too, but he never paid them any attention, almost as if he didn’t acknowledge them then they didn’t exist. I believe in all of it though. Good and evil do exist, and they have to be represented by something. The darkness for one— something I’ve been afraid of since my childhood.

  My grandmother had told me that she had already known of my ability to see them, and that she knew why, but she wouldn’t tell me those reasons until the time was right for me to be able to understand it as a gift. That time never came or maybe she just forgot about it, I supposed.

  She got really sick five years ago and passed away in a hospice while in a coma. Her health had deteriorated when she caught severe pneumonia and an aggressive tumor growth in her brain.

  Though I perpetually wondered what she wanted to tell me, I never pressed her for it. Even when my parents were alive, she had always been the one to take care of me when they worked and traveled, so we had been very close. My grandmother was a wise, beautiful, strong and deeply religious woman. Her take on that issue was that religion was in the heart of the beholder and that each one of us has our own unique relationship with God or whatever the person believed in as their God.

  I missed her so much.

  Even though China and Joel kept what I told them to themselves, which is why we were all such good friends, I knew hearing it all freaked them out underneath the surface of their thoughts, and I couldn’t blame them. Joel seems more accepting and understanding than China does about certain things though, and that in itself was a unique connection we had established and maintained as friends. I think that’s why we hit it off so easily right off the
bat when we first met.

  After so long, seeing shifting shadows or faceless masses of dark movement out of the corner of my eye has become as normal as seeing clouds and birds in the sky. I’m no longer as frightened as I used to be, in knowing that they were always around. Shadows were just the elemental parts of despair and evil. It was the physical demons who frightened me the most.

  I typically saw shadow beings, and faces roiling menacingly among large masses of people…looking for a potential victim to influence or someone to siphon negative energy from. They were more prevalent in the dark, for some reason, which was why I never slept in complete total darkness. I had to leave some source of light running, whether it be the television, dim lamp or a night-light. Silly and juvenile I know but if anyone could get a glimpse of the things that I’ve seen both in real life and in my dreams— they’d completely understand why.

  I never stuck around when I saw any kind of frenzied dark shadow activity, because I knew better and every time the outcome and results have always the same…destructive and tragic. I felt guilty though because I had this sort of visual advantage but there was nothing I could do to stop, warn or prevent something from happening without looking insane or crazy. I had previously been there, tried it and even now a few people already thought that about me as it was anyway.

  I was new here to Indiana when I got accepted, and started my freshman year at the University of Indiana at Bloomington last year. I had gone back to Key West Florida with my grandmother after the disappearance and supposed deaths of my parents in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. During my senior year there, I had begun applying for colleges anywhere that there was no ocean— so I wasn’t really picky on which college I chose.

  I don’t even know why I was here. I only decided to go to college because it was the one thing I promised my grandmother that I’d do. She encouraged me to go out and see the world on my own, that the world held far too much beauty and experiences to stay stuck in one place. She had hope and faith in the bigger scheme of things regarding humanity, and maybe that was where I got some of my personal ideologies from. However, now, that all changed for me. What with everything going on these days and news stories about people going on killing rampages…I couldn't care less about ‘seeing’ this self-destructive world that would meet its cataclysmic and horrific end soon, according to my dreams.