Witness

  Witness

  A

  Novel

  By

  Jamie Magee

  Witness: Book TWO of the “See” Series

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to any real people or event is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2011 by Jamie Magee

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the express consent of the publisher and author, except where permitted by law.

  ISBN-13:978-1475138900 ISBN-10:1475138903

  Cover art rights owned by Jamie Magee Cover art design by Marek Purzycki

  First printed copy, June 2012 Created in the United States of America

  Witness

  “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.”

  Carl Jung

  For Grace and Jayden:the two souls that ignite my passion for life.....

  Chapter One

  I’m an insomniac. It’s been just over four months since my accident. Since I made a promise to the darkness that haunts me every painful moment of my life – four months – you would think by now that I could close my eyes without seeing that bridge collapse, Bianca, the empty, dark souls begging to be set free.

  My eyes are always burning. The slightest moment from anyone or anything around me makes me jump. I’ve been increasingly sarcastic, and at times just downright rude. I’m growing impatient – impatient for the perfect song….a perfect resolution. I feel like a prisoner in my own life.

  My mother insisted that I never be left alone. If she wasn’t in town - or even when she was - I was supposed to stay with Draven or Madison. I didn’t mind being sentenced to stay at Draven’s side; in fact, the nights we managed to find an excuse to have a sleepover were the only ones I found any sleep…in his strong arms as his hypnotic voice whispered a lullaby managing to escort me into blissful dreams.

  Recently, those nights have become isolated – almost nonexistent. I haven’t seen him for more than ten minutes in the last three and a half weeks. The two of us hide behind the excuse that we need to write apart to gain new inspiration…but I knew we were having a silent fight, one that was no doubt my fault…I knew he thought I would never leave here with him…that I would find an excuse to never leave with Austin.

  Austin has returned for us three times, the last time almost two months ago. He told us that that Landen guy was here in our dimension – in Montana, I think. Austin said that Landen was searching for his soul mate and had found her here. Draven was packing our bags as Austin told us that this girl had been kept secret from Landen by his family. That their home dimension, Chara, was in shock and awe at the idea of the couple because she was from Chara, at least her family was. Apparently, everyone from there has to leave to find their soul mates, and the idea that a couple from their dimension could come together as one could only imply that Landen was everything – even more than they had assumed.

  Hearing Austin talk about Landen and this girl reminded me of some fairy tale story where a prince finds his long lost princess – a beautiful story, one that I didn’t want to bring my darkness to. I refused to go and meet him. I told Draven and Austin that it would be rude to rain on their moment. I mean, if they had been kept apart the way Austin had explained it, it didn’t seem fair to rush in and throw our problems in their lap. Not to mention, I could see the worry in Austin’s eyes; it was as if he and everyone that ‘traveled’ were prepared to return to Chara and wait something ominous out...exactly what, I don’t know.

  It seems being put to ‘sleep’ twice has affected the way I ‘see’. My memory is still vague. The memories are just under the surface, though; all it takes is a word, smell, song, sometimes just a conversation to cause them to flood to the surface. I have to tell myself to ‘see’ people that are alive, or even dead, though I can’t say I’ve seen too many shadows since my accident; every time I go to leave this house, a wicked case of anxiety consumes me and I usually find a reason to stay…maybe it wasn’t anxiety, more like I knew that I was hiding from my problems and I didn’t want to face them before I had a solution. I think I’m starting to figure out that I’m not going to find a solution in this house…it’s time for me to face this – whatever this is that is haunting me.

  Apparently, before all of this had happened, seeing life around others had been second nature, as natural as noticing someone’s eye color; but now…now I have to concentrate to really see. Most of the time, I feel like I am just going with my gut feeling…and at times I doubt what I do manage to see. I guess I’m just worried that I might be wrong – might say the wrong thing or assume I have an answer when I don’t.

  That’s why I didn’t argue or push Austin to tell me what he wasn’t saying about this couple – why he was eager to hide all of us away in Chara. I assumed if it was really bad, Draven would have seen it and convinced me to go; instead, Draven just locked his jaw and refused to look me in the eye – the way he always acts when he’s trying to control his temper. He led Austin out of the room, then came back alone. I asked him when Austin was coming back, and he just shook his head as if he didn’t think he ever would. We haven’t been alright since that day…I would rather fight it out than live in this silent world we were creating.

  Over the past few days, I’ve struggled with the idea of just booking a flight to Montana and going to find Landen and this girl on my own. I knew they would be here for a while – Austin had said that when people from his dimension find their soul mates, they always linger in a dimension to let the found soul mate decide if they want to leave for Chara or not; if they choose to leave, they still have to linger long enough to tie up loose ends in that world – give the family and friends a goodbye. Even though Austin had said that girl’s family was from Chara, I assumed she had to have a life here, friends that she wouldn’t want to leave without warning. I guess I thought if I found them alone, I could tell them my side of the story…tell them that I thought that whatever I was – or could do – was dangerous. I didn’t want Austin or anyone else making us out to be some kind of charity case, only for them to discover later that we were a walking nightmare…people that had tortured souls haunting them.

  Madison had pretty much moved in with me…and I was really worried about her. She slept even less than I did and was constantly staring into space. When she did sleep, she would violently toss and turn, then finally wake and pace the floor until exhaustion took over and she found a way to fall asleep again.

  Madison has always loved the science behind the Zodiac. Her horoscope is the first thing she looks at when she wakes – but not the kind of horoscope that tells you that you’ll fall in love or win the lottery, though; she reads a cosmic calendar that tells her what all of the planets are doing and how they affect each sign. Apparently, a few months ago there was a Blue Moon, the second full moon of a month; it doesn’t happen very often, and it sounds as if this Blue Moon wasn’t one that Madison was fond of. She hasn’t been herself since that night.

  That was the longest night of my life – the night of the Blue Moon. Madison was insanely anxious, and as the night moved on she became even more unraveled. When dawn finally broke, she cried for hours as is if she were grieving an unthinkable loss. Finally, she cried herself to sleep; she slept for two days straight. When she woke, I asked her why she was so sad...she just stared into space and told me she was fine, that her dreams told her everyone was fine. She never would tell me who ‘everyone’ was. I don’t think she’s slept for more than two hours at a time since then. I found it odd that she avoided sleep. Her dreams – even though she had ba
d ones, ones that I was sure Britain was in – she also had good ones, ones of someone I was sure held her heart.

  Madison had just fallen asleep. It was almost five AM, and I toyed with the idea of texting Britain just to see what he was doing – to try and understand if he knew he was in Madison’s dreams. It wasn’t out of character for me to text him at such a late hour – I often did.

  In fact, Britain texted me at least twice every day; each morning, he would say ‘good morning sleeping beauty’, and at the end of the day he’d simply say ‘sweet dreams’. I’m sure I could have found a way to avoid him by now and end our friendship, but…deep down, after everything, I still feel like I’m meant to save him...redeem him. Not to mention the fact that he was the only one that could really help me stop Bianca – he was the only one that knew what or who Bianca was.

  On my really sleepless nights - the nights that I was worried about Madison, about all of us – I’d gather all my courage and text Britain first. He seemed to enjoy the privacy of the later hour when I’d talk to him. I played dumb with him, let him think that my memory was absent once again. I took on the role of the confused, damaged girl. Sometimes I thought he could see right through the vague responses I’d give to his random questions or comments. I always found a way to hide my true intent for still speaking to him, which was to keep tabs on where and what Bianca was doing. So far, she’d kept her distance from both me and Draven, but I didn’t trust her to keep that pattern. I think that’s what keeps me up more than anything: her…fearing her. Talking to Britain, even if it is behind Draven’s back, makes me feel in control of an uncontrollable circumstance.

  Draven and everyone else wanted me to broadcast to Britain and anyone else that cared to ask that I was wide awake and unstoppable; instead, I hid them all from each other. No one knew I talked to Britain, and Britain didn’t know that I always have and always will love Draven. I have no doubt that Britain was watching my every move and knew that I spent my days either at my house or Draven’s, but I never gave him the impression that Draven was more than a friend…that almost made me feel guilty, but then I’d remind myself that I had to keep Draven safe – even if he didn’t think he was in danger.

  I whispered Madison’s name, and when she didn’t move I looked down at my phone and ran my fingertips across the screen. Each time I would text first, my heart would race and my stomach would turn…I felt like I was teasing the devil. I climbed out of my bed and slowly crept to the staircase that led to the studio. The sound of my father’s guitar, the sound that always played in my home, grew louder as if to scold me. I looked all around myself as I entered the studio halfway, expecting to see him, but he was hiding... he was close; I could feel his energy. His protection.

  I walked over to the black leather couch that centered the room and curled up against the arm. My fingers trembled as I dialed Britain’s number in my phone. I deleted every text he sent and made sure his name wasn’t in my contacts. I doubted that Draven would ever look through my phone, but I covered my tracks anyway. I knew he wouldn’t understand that what I was doing was protecting us…Draven’s jealous streak was as strong as - if not stronger than - mine. You’d think that as long as we’ve been together, we’d be past that point in our relationship. I talked to Kara about it; she thought we both still had it because we were forced to spend so much time apart growing up. That now, more than ever, we both feared we’d forget each other.

  She understood the pain of separation; she hasn’t seen her husband in almost six months, and he told her yesterday that he’d be gone at least another six. He did make plans for them to meet in Paris for a few weeks, but she told him that it would have to wait because she needed to take care of me. I argued with her, but I lost – she’s not really speaking to me right now either. I squinted my eyes closed as the idea of pushing everyone I love away came to me. I didn’t mean to. All I wanted was for everything to be right; my only problem is, it’s never been right; we were broken people looking for a peace that was as fleeting as the breath that leaves our bodies.

  Just as I went to press the last digit, the guitar sound grew louder. I looked around the room again, only to find it empty.

  “I need answers…something’s wrong with Madison…if he’s doing this, I have to stop it,” I whispered behind the music.

  The sound grew less violent, as if to say it understood my quest but still didn’t approve.

  “Can you tell me? Will you tell me? Show me how to fix this?” I said a little louder.

  The music dwindled down to a whisper. My eyes moved across the room, waiting for my father to appear. When he didn’t, I knew he wanted to help me….but he couldn’t…the quiet music playing was there to remind me that he was there – but he couldn’t help… at least not with this.

  I pushed in the last digit, then texted “are you awake” to Britain.

  “This would be easier if you’d just say go or stay,” I said to the room. My father and I had these one-way conversations daily. I would argue my point, and sometimes he’d appear and look into my eyes. Seeing him always calmed me down, but it never resolved my raging emotions.

  My phone remained silent. I settled deeper into the couch and let my aching eyes close. “I’m afraid…I’m scared if I go…you won’t follow me there,” I mumbled as I felt myself drift off to sleep.

  A warm sensation came over me, and I opened my eyes slowly. My father was next to me on the couch. I sat up slowly and reached for his hand. As he took mine, a calm that could not be mine came over me.

  “I will always be with you.” he whispered in an angelic tone.

  I knew then that I was dreaming; I’ve never heard him speak when I was conscious, which made me doubt that what he said in my dreams was real – that it wasn’t something my mind fabricated to give me peace.

  “What’s happening to us? What’s happening to Madison? How can they find her in her dreams?” I asked.

  My father reached his arm out, beckoning me to come closer. I moved my legs and crawled to his side and let my head lie against his shoulder. In my dreams, he felt so real – so alive. I felt his arm come around me, and the illusion of safety grew stronger.

  “Madison’s fate is calling her…it has nothing to do with you,” he said softly

  “If it has something to do with Britain – if it’s hurting her – it has to do with me.”

  “My Charlie…you have to understand that everyone has a purpose that only they can see…our fates come together at times…but when the whole story is told, you will see that our path is one we must walk…sometimes…alone.”

  I looked up into his dark eyes, which carried the peace I craved. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “You’re not alone…the one that carries your heart will always walk with you…one day, the one that carries Madison’s heart will walk with her.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering if he was trying to tell me that somehow Britain and Madison had a fate that intertwined. That didn’t make any sense; even if it did, who was the other guy?

  “Draven’s mad at me…he still wants to go…it just doesn’t feel right…at least not right now.”

  The room seemed to grow colder, and the sense of protection began to fade. I looked up at my father with questioning eyes, fearing that this dream was about to turn into a nightmare. “He’s not mad at you…he’s mad at what’s happening to him…he’s scared and angry.” A painful seriousness wrapped in the ugly reality of foreboding came across his peaceful expression. “You can’t let him push you away…he needs you now more than he ever has.”

  I sat up quickly. “What?! What do you mean?! What’s happening to him?!”

  At that moment, the room began to vibrate and my father vanished. I reached for where he was just as I was awakened from my dream and found my phone vibrating against my chest.

  I rubbed my sore eyes as I pushed myself up. It was almost six, and Britain had texted me three times.

  The first said, “I am now – wh
y are u up so early”, followed by “are you OK?”. The last one said, “You’re scaring me – I’m on my way.” That was the text that woke me.

  My fingers raced across the screen: “You know you can’t come over here.”

  He texted back instantly: “Iol I was just trying to get a response.”

  “Mission accomplished,” I texted back

  “It’s getting old not seeing you. I think I should talk to your sister.”

  Because I had played dumb – let Britain think that I my memory was missing once again – he thought that Kara and my mom were oblivious to what really happened that night my car crashed through the bridge. Even though I never clarified if it was him or Bianca behind the images that nearly killed me – killed Draven, all of us – I knew he was well aware of every moment I endured. Part of me lavished the idea that he was furious with Bianca like he was the night of my party and somehow punished her for hurting me….the other part of me - the dark, untrusting part of my soul - told me that he not only knew what happened to me, but condoned it….I tried to ignore that part.

  A week went by after that night before I heard from Britain again. When he texted me late one night, I panicked at first…then text by text, I devised a plan to let him think I was just a weak little girl. I told him that I had crashed my car, that because of the crash I’d lost a lot of my memory, and the pain medicine I was taking was only making what memory I did have worse; that because of that, my mom and Kara were even more overprotective of me now.

  When he pried about Draven, Madison, and Aden, how they were, I knew he was trying to see if they had tried to wake me, if they had told me what I was capable of doing. I told him that they were old friends and that I liked to play music with them. I managed to change the subject when he brought them up every day…it was like a game – a game of wits. He stopped asking what color Draven’s eyes were a few weeks ago…it was weird how concerned he seemed to be…he would say, ‘are his eyes gold like honey’, or something like ‘did you say his eyes almost glowed’. Both phrases seemed out of character for any guy to say, especially someone like Britain. I told him Draven’s eyes were every color but the one they really were – a mesmerizing emerald green laced in black. One night, I asked him who’s eyes were that color and why he thought Draven’s were…he just changed the subject after mumbling that he thought he saw me with someone that looked like that.