Jinx, Casiana 'Autumn' Hernandez [amazing books to read TXT] 📗
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- Author: Casiana 'Autumn' Hernandez
Book online «Jinx, Casiana 'Autumn' Hernandez [amazing books to read TXT] 📗». Author Casiana 'Autumn' Hernandez
The day had started off normally. I took a shower, taking the time to actually condition my hair, then going to my closet picking out an over-size sweater and ripped jeans, then applying makeup to my eyelashes and lips. I quickly run a flat iron through my already straight hair and then run down the stairs to pull on a pair of tan knit boots. My mom’s car is gone, and so is whoever’s car that was here last night. I pull my cell off the charger before storming to the door to pull on a coat and to grab my purse and backpack off their hooks.
My 1997 Toyota Camry is parked at the end of the driveway. I pull the garage to the curb and then plow my way through the snowdrift back to my car. I pull out and speed down the street leaving swirls of white cotton candy puff dusting into the air as I go. I’m about a block away from school when my phone rings. I check the screen; Mom.
“Hello?” I ask into the receiver, but not really listening to her as I try to focus on driving.
“Aribelle, I’m gonna be late today, okay? I have a business meeting with a client.” She says thinking I’ll actually care. “Go to Yang’s and grab some takeout on your way home.”
I hang up and then go back to focusing on my driving. Things had turned to shit when I agreed to come here. I was so used to having Dad around when I got home. He would take night shifts just so he could make sure I got to school and back safely, and then Dozer, my old dog, and Charlene played body guard for me at night. But one day when I came home Dad had some rather ‘unfortunate’ news for me.
“Hey,” I had said as I put my bag on the lazy boy and pulled off my old black chuck’s. “Your Mother called me today.” I plunge down onto the sofa and turn the TV on. I’d heard this conversation before he even thought of bringing it up. I remember getting the visual of how Mom had persuaded him to give her ‘another chance’. “Interesting.” I say as Sweet 16 turns on MTV. He squats in front of me and looks me deep in the eye. “Ari,” He says. “Dad,” I say and I push his shoulder lightly. He takes my hand and flips it over in his hand, examining the ring he got me the day he got remarried to Charlene. ‘From now on we have a chance at being a family. This ring is my promise to you’ he had said. “She wants another chance, Ari. Why not give her one last shot?” He asks. I shake my head. “Nope.” I stand quickly and charge to my room before he can see the tears in my eyes and I feel the hopeless emotion of abandonment.
The school parking lot is scarcely filled. An old Buick, a new,shiny Ford, and a Cadillac take up the spaces nearest to me. I open the door and let my aggravation reach me. I see Fawn, my new found ‘friend’ standing next to the door. “Morning.” I say as a greeting. I walk past her and she follows me gliding at a steady pace. “Don’t act like this.” She pleads. I turn on her. “Act like what?” I snap. “All nonchalant, I need your help, you can see me, only you can see me.”
In case you haven’t gotten it, I received ‘special’ powers when I was five and a half. I could see dead people, and I can see what future events are going to happen to people close to me. I shake me head. “Fawn, I can’t help you okay? Get over it.” I step through her feeling the sadness that she experiences everyday. I falters me, but only for a moment. I continue on through the doors. She stands in my way about 20 feet ahead of me. “You can’t get rid of me till you help me!” She says the same pleading, sorry look on her face.
I step around her. “I can’t.” I walk to my locker on the third floor. I remembered when it wasn’t like this. When I was normal. I had a childhood where things were always my way. I was a Momma’s girl and Dad was wealthy. But when my neighbor, Mrs. Finch died, it changed everything.
I was almost 6 the day I found out that our next door neighbor and babysitter Mrs. Finch had passed away. I was playing up stairs when I heard her whisper my name. I offered her one of my Malibu Barbie’s. We played those a lot when I was a kid. Mrs. Finch shakes her head and smiles. Her blue-white hair has a translucent look giving it a glimmer. When I go to ask why, she cover her mouth with her index finger and gestures for me to follow behind her.
She leads me to her front door. I see her ‘Welcome’ sign on the door and then I look at her. “I don’t have the key.” I say. She nods and then a moment later the door silently and slowly opens for us. She leads the way. She holds my hand and leads me to her room. It looks plain and simple. With white walls, light pink bedding, and a vanity filled with fancy looking perfumes and jewelry cast about. She whispers something that’s near inaudible. “Close your eyes.” She whispers. “Is this a game?” I ask. She nods so I do as she says and close my eyes tight. I feel the air rush around my ears and my body weight drop so hard it knocks me to the ground with a brute force. By now I’m scared to open my eyes, but as I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder I open them. Mrs. Finch is bending over offering me a hand. I take it and stand up. We’re standing in her room again, but it’s different this time. It’s a mess. The bedding strew about on the floor, the jewelry spread across the vanity and perfumes bottles knocked over letting fluid pour onto the carpet. Mrs. Finch is leaning against her bed post, heaving and panting, she falls over and lands on her bad hip into the floor. I attempt to run and save her but I’m held back. I look over at Mrs. Finch standing next to me with a questioning look. She places her index finger over her lips again. I feel panicked but listen. She heaves and heaves, sweating and turning a purplish blue color.
Mr. Finch, Mrs. Finch’s husband, walks through us. Through us! As is we’re not even there. I become scared and huddle into Mrs. Finch’s side. Burying my face into her plush sweater. “Watch, Aribelle.” She whispers. I look at her face and it’s filled with such a confusing sadness that I wouldn’t yet understand until later. Mr. Finch bends over Mrs. Finch’s body. He skims his fingers over her forehead. She gazes up at him as she clutches her chest, her face filled with pain. He bends over and whispers something in her ear and then before I realize it, Mrs. Finch has just been killed.
When the air around me steadies, I look at Mrs. Finch. I look for answers, searching. “Look,” she says. On the spot where she had collapsed there was a speck of blood about the size of a quarter and in front of the vanity was a spot the smelled of Chanel No. 5. “Go," she says pushing me to the door and out of the house. I run back to my house and slam the door behind me running to my father’s home office. There I find my mom with glasses perched on the tip of her nose as she scrolls down a list on the computer monitor. “Mommy! Mommy, come here, come here!” I scream running over to her pulling at her jeans and her tank top.
“Aribelle, stop it.” She says lightly pushing me away. “Something’s wrong, It’s about Mrs. Finch. I think she’s dead!” I screech. Mom scrambles from her seat. She shakes my shoulders. “Ari don’t joke around. What happened?” She asks. I just gasp and then I collapse into her lap.
It had turned out that since Mrs. Finch had a lot more retirement money than she had ever dreamed coming her way, and Mr. Finch having an affair on her with his 30 something massage therapist, the money would come in handy later on. He put acid in her perfume bottle and when she inhaled to much of it, her brain completely stopped working and eventually killed her. The bloode had come from her nose from internal bleeding. I also remember the night that the cops had arrested Mr. Finch. She came to my window, a smile filled with satisfaction as she waved to me and whispered ‘Thank You, Aribelle’.
I stomped off to my first hour. I crashed onto my seat and pulled my IPod touch out and began playing with the apps and checking my facebook. I hadn’t noticed that Fawn had followed me in. “Please?” She whispered to me softly. I did my best to ignore her and went back to playing guitar hero. The door to the room opened and I looked up. It was Hunter, the kid that sat next to me. He walked over his hood still up and covered in snow flakes. He set his bag on the floor and slid into the desk besides me. I went back to my game and ignored Fawn as she moaned and shrieked.
“What are you playing?” Hunter was leaning over trying to look at the screen. I showed him and he nods. It’s silent for a few moments before he asks, “So where are you from?” I sit back. “San Antonio.” I say. He nods and then moves on. “What possessed you to move to Minnesota?” He asks. I turn to him. “My Mom lives here. My Dad pushed me to move here because she was lonely.” He stares at me for a moment. “You’re gonna lose your game.” He says and I realize I hadn’t put the game on pause. I turn it off and shove it back into my bag. “My name’s Hunter. Your’s is Aribelle right?” He says. He holds his hand out but I ignore it and mumble something that sounds like ‘nice to meet you’. I turn and look at the room and students have already started filing in. Joel, our teacher walks in. He wanted us to call him Joel because he’s only about 4 years older than us and looks like he could be a student here. That and being called Mister makes him feel old.
The day dragged on class after class. When the last bell rang I was out the door. I walked fast to my car hoping that maybe I could avoid Fawn before she could annoy me about ‘saving her’ again. I know that If I kept talking to thin air I wouldn’t get too many friends. I notice that the Ford I had spotted earlier had belonged to Hunter. It was a sleek Ford Focus with tinted windows. He walked to the passenger side, throwing his back pack in. He looked up, meeting my gaze. “Hey.” He says with a smile. I nod back at him. “Something wrong?” He asks, his brow furrowing. “No, I just never realized that this was your car.” I say.
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