CHAPTER ONE
Shadows of the Past
"Mom, Mom, please don't do this to me!" I screamed, shaking her lifeless body, drenched in blood. Panic consumed me, my mind barely able to process what was happening. Tears streamed down my face as I stumbled toward the garage where my father was painting.
"Dad! Dad!" I cried, my voice breaking. "I don't know what's wrong with Mom. She's not talking,she's lying in a pool of her own blood!"
Before I could even finish, my father dropped everything and bolted for the house. I followed close behind, my heart hammering in my chest. When we reached her, he knelt down, cradling her limp body, seemingly oblivious to the blood soaking into his clothes.
"Rory!" he shouted, his voice frantic. "Call 911!"
I fumbled for the phone, dialing with shaking hands as I watched my father,my once invincible father,sob uncontrollably. I could hardly believe what was happening. My mother was gone, just like that.
---
I jolted back to reality as I heard Victoria, my stepmother, calling my name from downstairs. I sighed in frustration. "This woman won't let me breathe," I muttered under my breath.
Victoria's constant nagging grated on my nerves. But I, Rory Thompson, was not one to be pushed around. I whispered those words to myself with so much determination, they almost felt like a vow.
I looked around my small, cramped bedroom,a sanctuary in a house that never really felt like home. Unlike the typical girl's room with frilly pinks and purples, my space was a haven of art supplies and half-finished projects. My sketchbook lay open on my desk, and posters of my favorite boy bands and legendary artists adorned the walls. At the far end of the room, a collection of well-worn art books sat in a neat pile, my constant companions through the chaos of life.
After a moment, I forced myself to stand up and straighten my room before heading to the bathroom. I took a quick shower, got dressed, and prepared for another day of school. But even as I tried to focus on my routine, I couldn't shake the reflection staring back at me in the mirror.
My large, hazel eyes,framed by thick lashes,seemed to hold secrets I wasn't ready to confront. My deep pink lips and porcelain skin, speckled with freckles across my nose, were often praised as an "epitome of beauty," but I had always seen it as a curse. It felt like my looks were a mask, hiding the brokenness inside. My long, curly brown hair fell down my back like a waterfall, and though people said my hourglass figure could "turn heads," none of it mattered to me.
Beauty was a distraction from the mess in my mind. My mother's death still haunted me, an ever-present shadow. I was only 14 when she died, leaving a void nothing could fill. My father, James, had turned to gambling to cope with the grief, and soon, our lives spiraled into chaos.
There were nights I lay awake, listening to him sob in the next room, shuffling his cards in a desperate attempt to forget. The debt piled up, and with it came arguments and broken promises. Victoria didn't care as long as she and her daughters, Vanessa and Anastasia, were taken care of. But I cared. I carried the weight of his addiction, and it was suffocating me.
I had tried to help him, to be strong, but the strain was relentless. The nightmares of my mother's death wouldn't leave me. Sometimes I woke up in a panic, unable to breathe. Art was the only thing that brought me peace, the only outlet that kept me from drowning in all of it.
But even that escape felt fragile.
The ringing of my phone jolted me back from my thoughts. It was Alex, my best friend.
"Hey, what's up?" His familiar baritone voice boomed through the speaker.
"I'm almost ready," I replied, hurriedly packing my books.
"I'm at your doorstep," he said, sounding annoyed. "Your stepmother won't let me in, and Vanessa's been staring at me like I'm her next meal. It's... unsettling."
I couldn't help but laugh at his misery. Vanessa had always had a thing for Alex, but it just made things weird. I grabbed a piece of pancake from the kitchen and rushed out the door, ignoring Victoria's calls.
"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," I said as I reached him.
"No worries. Let's go," he said, eager to leave the awkwardness behind. "It's our last year of high school. We've got prom, college dreams,so much ahead of us!"
I nodded, but I couldn't help feeling disconnected. "Yeah, but I need more than this boring life. I want drama,something exciting. Maybe a mysterious billionaire or a bad boy to sweep me off my feet."
Alex shot me a confused look. "You've been reading too many romance novels. There's no mysterious billionaire coming for you," he said, teasingly tapping his chest. "But you've got me, and that's good enough, right?"
I smiled, knowing he had feelings for me, but I pushed it aside. Alex was the one person I could trust, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship. Despite everything, he was the only steady part of my life.
As we reached the gates of Medford High, I paused, looking up at the sign. It was our final year,prom, college, and everything else looming ahead. I felt a spark of excitement mixed with dread. This year would determine my future, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.
But before I could dwell too long on it, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Something was coming. I could feel it in my bones.
And whatever it was,it was going to change everything.