The Haunted

I must thank my parents. If they ever read this when I get out of this, hopefully they’ll feel bad or something of the sort. If they would have moved me to Canada sooner, I wouldn’t be being held captive by a very dark warlock that goes by the name of Jacob Grey. Turns out, he’s been after me since I was born. It’s a rather long story in which I should probably start at the beginning. I’m not the best at this whole writing thing. After all, I was going to go to a university in France to major in Biology.

I think I’ll start off with a brief description of my current dilemma, and then I’ll go back to the beginning. It’ll be easier for me to write and I won‘t have to worry about remembering to write down everything later. At the moment, I happen to be in a very small bedroom in which only exists a bed, an armoire, and a very small window. Yes, I’m stuck in here, and yes I have tried to get out. He’s a very powerful warlock, meaning I can’t do crap to get out. Not to mention the crappy clothing he keeps giving me to wear. Alright, so they aren’t exactly crappy, but they are like 1800’s style dresses. It’s impossible to sit down in them and get comfortable. The French silk pajamas are to die for though… Oh Goddess, I didn’t just say that. Alright, time for a change of subject.

Jacob.

If Jacob wasn’t going for the whole dark and demented look, he would have been rather handsome. Especially with his very hot English accent…. All I ever see him in is black or dark blue jeans, black long sleeve shirts, and very expensive black boots. His smooth, dark chocolate, long hair just adds to his mysterious look. It hangs low over his gorgeous steel gray eyes. Which reminds me, that’s the one thing I hate about looking at him; his eyes draw you in and keep you there. That is also one of the reasons why I ended up in this damn situation. He captivates you, seduces you into doing whatever he needs. I’ve come to find that if I do look at him, I just have to blank out when he’s speaking with his deep, accented voice, and he can’t captivate me. This leaves me to hear what he says, but act on my own accord.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he wants to marry me, I would be dead by now. Thank the Goddess for that. I would be very happy being married to him, except for the fact that I know what he really wants from me. My death is likely to come a few days after the marriage. At least, that’s what he’s hoping. He would much rather just get it over with now, however there is a little problem. Jacob has a lot of family all over the world that has to be at the ceremony. This gives me quite a few weeks to come up with a way to get out of here.

Now that my current situation is now out there on the table, perhaps I should start at the beginning. That’s how these things are supposed to start anyway, right? Who knows, maybe they’ll turn this into a book. Not that my parents could really use the money…. Anyway, being born and raised in France is pretty easy. I grew up with my little sister, Mary, seeing as she was only two years younger than myself. We took care of each other whenever Mom and Dad were at work. The only good thing to come out of being a surgeon is the money. The hours suck, due to the fact that they work 12-14 hours a day and sleep the rest. And both of my parents were surgeons. If it wasn’t for Mary and her looking out for me, I would probably be lost to the streets. I’m sure the streets would have welcomed me with open arms.

Middle school wasn’t the easiest time in my life. Yes, even in France there were drug problems. What made it even sadder was that it was in a private school. “The best education out there” my parents had called it. I called a building straight out of hell. I took up smoking when I was 13 and then started the harder stuff. The dark clothing came out and my attitude shortly began to take after my exterior. In fact, I remind myself of Jacob. Oh how karma comes back and bites you in the ass. You don’t really see it until you look back on it years later. I almost want to laugh at it. But then I remember that that’s right before everything started going down hill.

Mary became sick in my eighth grade year. A cancer in her lungs is all my father would tell me. That’s when I realized that life was short. Mary could have died at any moment. Her long blonde hair fell out, her eyes sunk deeply into her head, and her skin became as white as paper. She resembled a poor, lost ghost. It was awful. Immediately I quit smoking and doing drugs. I know, it surprised me too. Why did something this big have to happen in order for me to stop doing things that were so deadly? Why did I even think about starting drugs in the beginning? My little hormonal mind was very uncontrollable back then.

What made eighth grade even worse, my grandparents moved over to Canada. Why they did this, I only just found out. My parents were stupid enough to not go with them in the first place. I guess moving would have made Mary sicker. But hell, once again, I probably wouldn’t be in the situation I’m in now if they had moved sooner. My parents were idiots, and still are sadly. At least Mary became healthier. That, I can give them credit for. But other than that, they aren’t worth the time of day. At least I got back on the right track on my own. School would have sucked if I hadn’t.

Come the beginning of high school, Mary was getting better and I was lightening up. My clothes and personality were anyway. I even got myself a boyfriend. A cute soccer player by the name of Jer Anderson. He was lovely to say the least. Tall, dark, and handsome, sums him up completely. He had raven locks and dark blue eyes. Quite the combination if you ask me. He treated me like I was a princess… something I wish I would have never taken for granted. I wasn’t very popular, but I liked it that way. Less names to remember anyway. Needless to say, I was happy with my social life. Life was great back then. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. That was until once again, everything began to go way down hill. Scratch that. Things began to start taking a trip to hell and deciding that they liked it there.

Mary came back to school for her tenth grade and Jer and I dated right up to our last year of high school. That’s when things began to change. Abruptly, nonetheless.. It was as though all of my brilliant luck the past three years had just went down the drain. Jer dumped me for no apparent reason. Or rather, a very dumb reason. To quote his exact words “It’s not you, Em. It’s me. I just don’t see where this is going. I’m sorry, but we’re just going to have to end it.“ That was the lamest line I have heard right up to this day. I was a mess of emotions after that. Upset, angry, frustrated, disappointed, etc. My mind broke down and I just felt numb. I would have to say that I was in love with the stupid boy. He just didn’t have the same feelings, or so I would have thought back then.

That was just the beginning, however. Mary became sick again, this time she had an awfully high fever and rash that even my parents didn’t know what it was, or so they told me. She ended up coming close to death about three times. It was one of the scariest moments in my whole life. Things just got worse after that. I got a call saying that my grandfather had died of unknown causes and that they were just going to let it be. Who lets a mystery death just hang loose? Let alone my own grandmother. Papa was not old enough to die of natural causes, that was for sure. Then, to top it all off, my school burns down from an unknown source. Once again, the police were just letting it go. This just pushed me over the edge.

The numbness grew in my body. I was just a skeleton walking around. A pointless being on earth, making me even more average to the student body at the new high school I was attending. I think that is why I was so drawn to the mysterious guy in my bio class. He seemed just as empty as I did. Or rather, he just hid his emotions oh so well. He seemed so dark. So worth taking the chance to pop out of my shell and at least give the boy my name.

My second week in Biology, I was told there was going to be a lab and that partners were needed. I just sat in the back of the classroom, much like I always did. Like hell I was going to go and pick my partner, and with my recent luck, no one would have chosen me. Not that it really mattered to me. I just watched everyone cling to their partners as though they were glued at the hip. The way everyone acted reminded me strongly of little kindergarteners. They didn’t want someone to get to their partner before they did. After five minutes of the loud chattering and the bustling around the room, everyone was settled in their lab tables with their partners. Everyone except me and The Mystery Boy. For a split second, I actually felt emotion. Nerves, as I recall. It was a start at least, to feeling again.

As directed, I grabbed my little book bag and stood up. I tilted my head to the side only a touch, just enough to move my blonde hair out of the way, when I noticed it. His steel gray eyes piercing threw my skin. It felt like he was searching for my soul. My insides twisted and turned in a manner that was inhuman. My palms began to sweat and ears began to ring loudly and obnoxiously. I still felt numb, but there was a slight twinge of anger twisted in there. He was in my personal space. But how I knew that, I didn’t know. My dull blue eyes met his and everything seemed to go black around me. There was only me and him… and the anger and joy. Just about as oxymoronic as it could get. My feet began to move toward him, but I wasn’t making them. I sat down on the chair next to him, yet it wasn’t of my own accord. My body was out of my control and I greatly hated it.

"What’s your name?” He stated smoothly.

His voice was deep and his tone was strong. I couldn’t help but catch the accent that slid so pronounced from his thin lips. His voice clung to my ears, echoing loudly over and over. He let on a little smile. But I noticed that it never touched his eyes. At last I could feel as though I was in control of my body again. The classroom began to fade back in and I could feel my sneaker covered feet swaying freely around the feet of the chair. I swallowed hard and licked my lips. I was in control of myself again. Then again, I really should have been in control the whole time. There was a slight problem at the moment though: Why didn’t I want to answer him? It was like my vocal cords tied themselves up and my conscious was yelling at me to not say a word. However, being the stupid loop that I am, I began to mutter fluently in French. At a very fast pace, might I add.

“Je suis si désolé. J'ai espacé dehors là ou quelque chose. Mon nom est Emma Deveraux. Je suis un aîné. Assez bon à la biologie, ainsi à toi ne doivent pas s'inquiéter d'effectuer tout les travail. Je veux me spécialiser en biologie, est-ce qu'ainsi je dois être bon à elle, droit ? Est-ce que Dieu d'Oh, que je fais?”

The fine hair on the back of Emma’s neck stood on end as though she were just hit with electricity. Shock ran down her spine at a very slow pace, causing her to flinch with discomfort. There was only one thing that would cause these things to happen. Jacob was close by.

She quickly slammed her diary closed and threw it under the pillow hastily. She saw the doorknob on the enchanted wooden door turn slowly. The pen she was writing with was still in her thin fingers grasp. Her eyes widened as she realized this. It wasn’t much like Jacob would have cared what she was writing, he would have just been curious. Which is exactly what she didn’t want. Em threw the pen up and bounced it between her fingers in an attempt to throw it somewhere. As soon as Jacob walked into the room, she threw it behind her, hearing the soft thud as it hit the carpet.

Emma’s light blue eyes met his striking gray ones. His tongue ran across his lips as he looked her over, apparently finding her appealing to the eye. She rolled her eyes and stood up from her bed. Oh how she hated being in the same room as that wretched, lower than dirt, poor excuse for a man. He was pitiful and didn’t disserve to be alive. Who wouldn’t think that though? Especially after what Emma has gone threw.

Jacob walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his large hands on the small of her back. She took a forceful step forward. Her arms were crossed under her chest as she tried to not touch him. Disgust was thrown all over her face. He just so happened to notice. He happened to notice every time he was in the room. He really did hate what was happening between them, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Well there was, but he respected her privacy and how she hated to be out of control. He looked down his nose at her and smiled sympathetically.

“How are you doing, Babe?” He asked casually.

Emma rolled her eyes and ran her tongue across the inside of her bottom lip, before she replied simply, “Peachy keen.”

“Well isn’t that lovely? I’m glad you’re liking it here.” Jacob paused to pull her tighter to himself. “I was thinking, now that I have time, why don’t we go out for dinner? Maybe get you some new clothes as well. I’m sure my mother’s dresses are not exactly your style.”

You‘ve got that right! Em thought quickly. She smiled sweetly and batted her eyes. She figured that she might as well play it for all it was worth. “That would be excellent, Jacob. This room is getting rather stuffy. And these dresses… I don’t see how your mother lived with them.” She rolled her eyes and pouted her lightly glossed lips.

Jacob nodded his head once and grinned. “Why don’t I let you clean up and I’ll be back in a bit with your old clothes. You’ll look more appropriate in public with those on. See you in a few.”

He let go of her and headed toward the door. Emma placed her hands on her hips and arched one of her fine eyebrows. She shrugged and exhaled heavily. She had already taken a shower that morning and her hair was straight and blonde as usual. Jacob never gave her any make-up to put on, so she was ready to go, except for the clothing.

She reached under her pillow and grabbed her little leather-bound book. Em hugged it tightly to her as she scrunched her face up in thought. Reaching down for the pen, her fingers wrapped around it just as she threw herself on her bed.

The sun shone down brightly from the little window on the opposite wall than her bed. “Must be setting,” she mumbled to herself as she flipped her book open and re-read the last paragraph she had written. Her long blonde hair fell down over her shoulders and brushed along the bottom of the pages. A single tear slid down her cheek. She mumbled to herself some more as she wiped the tear with the back of her hand, “Straighten up, Em. You can make it threw this.”

She shook her head and began to write some more.

“He looked at me and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back. I could tell he was hiding something though. I mean, who goes to a French private school, and not speak fluent French? I could understand if he was a foreign exchange student, but this private school didn’t take those kind of students. It was all so confusing to me at the time. What was I supposed to do though? I was a quiet misfit that kept to herself. To bad I wasn’t who I am now back then. A year can do a lot to change a person.