Expelled From Heaven

By: Shoshanna

Prologue:

Logan Winters sat in the park and watched the people walk past him. They were laughing and smiling. Some were pushing baby strollers or chasing after wayward footballs. None of them seemed to have a care in the world. Such was life in the small town of Pinewood Lake California. None of them knew that everything was about to change. Life was forever going to be altered in ways they couldn’t even imagine. He watched two lovers walk by him hand in hand, whispering something only they could hear. He smiled to himself. It was going to be so much fun to destroy them, along with everyone else.

Logan stood up and walked towards the duck pond that sat in the middle of the park. No one noticed him. They couldn’t. Not yet at least. Logan Winters had fallen off a building three months ago, plummeting violently to his death. Now he walked the streets invisibly, amusing himself with other people’s lives. He found joy in their misery and mocked their happiness. They were all idiots, he thought. Weak, stupid people who had no idea that anything existed beyond what they could see with their own eyes. Soon they’d all understand the way things really were.

He’d been chosen for this task. His dead heart was filled with vengeance. The bitch who’d caused his death was going to pay for what she did. But not in the ways she would imagine. He had bigger plans for her. Soon he’d be made flesh again and he’d show her exactly what he was made of. But this was much bigger than just his personal vendetta. Powers far greater than his had set this all down centuries before he came along. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time. His death had been a catalyst to something far more sinister. His death had set off a series of events that would change the world forever. Starting with Pinewood Lake.

Three Months Before:

Alison Biggs stood in front of the mirror examining her reflection. Her long black hair was still slightly damp, creating soft waves that framed her face. Her dark eyes glared, scrutinizing the face that stared back at her. She wasn’t the type of girl that people called pretty. She never had been. Unique seemed to be the word used most commonly. She presumed that was a roundabout way of saying that she was ugly or strange looking. She’d never felt comfortable in her own skin, and that fact was blatantly obvious tonight.

She sighed unhappily and sat down on the edge of her bed. She opened the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a picture. It was a photo of Alison with her longtime boyfriend, James. In it, they were both smiling and hugging each other. It had been taken less than a year ago, Alison remembered. They were so happy then. At least that was what she had always thought.

She’d met James in college where she had been studying Art History. Her style was very gothic. She always wore dark clothes, favoring long, flowing dresses of velvet. Her makeup was often extreme; dark eyes, red lips, and fair, flawless skin like a porcelain doll. She was a witch, and very much looked the part.

James had been an artist that she met in one of her classes. They’d hit it off when she had offered to tutor him in Impressionistic Design. At first, she had been very nervous around him. Flashbacks from high school would often haunt her. She’d never dated then, mostly because all of the boys were afraid of her. It had been a prison of her own making, she realized. She had deliberately put on airs and made everyone think she was dangerous. She often read books of spells and burned incense at lunchtime, making grandiose threats to those who called her a freak. Many times she threatened to turn people into frogs or curse them if they dared to cross her. Her classmates thought she was insane, but also believable enough that they left her alone.

It had been a defense mechanism. She created this other persona in order to command some kind of respect that she’d never gotten just by being herself. Since she was a little girl she’d always been the subject of speculation, gossip and ridicule. When she was four, her mother had died of a drug overdose while Alison sat and watched. She lay next to her mother’s body for seven hours before her father came home and discovered them. Her father had been off drinking, as usual. He’d been at the bar all day, finally dragging himself home after midnight. By that time, Alison’s mother was gone. All that was left was her cold and wasted body, ravaged by heroin.

Alison was too young to understand what had happened. All she knew was that Mommy’s medicine had hurt her and now she was gone. For years afterwards, Alison refused to even take aspirin, for fear the same thing would happen to her. It wasn’t until she was much older and heard what the other kids at school were saying, that she understood that her mother had died a junkie. It hadn’t been an accident, but the result of her mother’s terrible addiction. Kids would tease her mercilessly, calling her father a drunk and her mother a junkie whore. The few friends she managed to make, she lost eventually. Once their parents realized who she was and who her parents were, they refused to let their children over to her house. They said she was bad news and would eventually end up just like her parents.

By the time she reached high school, she was desperately lonely and depressed. She had even contemplated suicide when she was fourteen. She held a bottle of sleeping pills in her hand for five hours before she finally flushed them down the toilet. She didn’t want to prove them all right. She would not end up dead on the bathroom floor just the way her mother had. That was when she decided it was time to change herself. She didn’t want to be the victim anymore. She looked for ways to empower herself. That was when she stumbled onto witchcraft. Contrary to what most people believed it was not a satanic practice or in some way evil. It was a natural, beautiful way to be one with your spiritual self and with nature. She had readily embraced it. It gave her a new sense of herself and her purpose in the world. The fact that other people saw it differently didn’t matter to her. In fact it worked to her advantage.

She began studying night and day, trying to hone her craft. She figured that if she was to be a witch now, she should look the part, however stereotypical it would be. She dyed her normally light brown hair, black. And she began wearing dark colors and severe makeup. A pentagram always hung from her neck and she often wore small bags of herbs tied around her waist. She wanted people to know that she wasn’t just different, but special and had power. She knew that people often feared what they didn’t understand, and she was going to make the most of that. If people were afraid of her, they would be less likely to pick on her. And that was how it all began.

James had seen through her façade. He told her that she didn’t need to play a part, that she should just be happy with who she was inside. He had been good to her and loved her in ways that no one else ever had. The only problem had been that he never understood that she had real power. The witchcraft was not just a prop that she used to hide. It was real. Her talents were real. Maybe it had started out as a game, but it was real now. He didn’t support her studies, but he tolerated them. He found it all amusing and entertaining. It was the main source of conflict they faced, but Alison had thought they were dealing alright. They still loved each other and that was all that really mattered.

Then six months ago, James received a job offer at an art gallery in Seattle. He was going to be in charge of finding talent to showcase, and in return would be allowed to show his own work. Alison had been thrilled for him and immediately started making plans to move there with him. At first he put her off, saying that he wanted to make sure that nothing fell through before she uprooted herself. He went along to Seattle without her, saying that she could join him there in a few months once he had everything sorted. She had been disappointed at first, but she looked forward to the day she’d be at his side again. She knew he was under a lot of pressure and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Three months after he had left, Alison made a surprise visit to his new Seattle digs. She could never have prepared herself for what she found there. James was not alone. He was living with another woman. Hysterically, she confronted him.

“Oh my god! What the hell is this? Your love nest?” She had screamed at him.

“Ali, look, I wanted to tell you…” James had tried to calm her down.

“Tell me? When? When were you going to tell me? After I moved here?”

He hung his head down, “you were never going to move here, Ali.”

“Yes I was!”

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s over. It’s been over. I just didn’t know how to tell you,” he said sadly.

“What do you mean it’s over? I-I thought you loved me,” she sobbed.

“Face it, we’re just too different. I don’t get this shit you’re always on about. Magic and all that garbage. I thought it was just a phase that you’d grow out of.”

“A phase? This is my life, James. This is who I am. I thought you realized that.”

“I do now. And that’s why I had to leave,” he explained regretfully.

“Are you saying that there never was a job offer? That you just left me?” She asked.

He looked down at his feet, “yes. I-I met Carolyn at a party six months ago. We really hit it off…She invited me to come to Seattle.”

“Oh my god…This isn’t happening. How could you do this to me?” She sunk to her knees.

“I’m sorry, Ali. I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“How did you want me to find out?” She cried softly.

“I don’t know. But not like this,” he said quietly. “I just needed someone more stable in my life. Someone who’s real.”

“Real? I’m not real?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes it is. You think I’m not good enough?”

“It’s just not going to work. Please, just accept that.” He had pleaded with her.

“Did you ever love me?” She had wondered.

“Of course,” he assured her.

“What changed?”

He averted his eyes so as not to see the devastation in hers. He couldn’t seem to give her an explanation. “I’m sorry,” was all he had said.

Alison couldn’t even look at his picture now without wanting to scream, cry or kill him. It had been almost three months since he’d dumped her and instead of getting easier, things were only getting more complicated.

She held the picture of the two of them tightly, crushing it beneath her grasp. Slowly, she ripped it in half, tossing the part with her smiling face into the trash. She then reached over and lit a black candle. She set his piece down next to it, inside a small metal dish. She pulled a small bag out of her nightstand and sprinkled a light dusting of specialty herbs into the dish and over the photo.

“Heart of mine, broken still. Make him suffer, at my will,” she chanted methodically. “Make his heart know only pain, so that I may live again.”

The herbs around the picture began to smolder, creating an acrid smoke that filled the room.

“Black as night, pure as hate, despair creeps in through open gate.” She waved her hand through the smoke, spreading it evenly, creating a thin veil that distorted the image. “By and by, it is my will, suffer now for my thrill.”

With her last utterance, the photograph ignited into flames. A small smile spread across Alison’s face as a feeling of peace and vindication washed over her. It was not the first time she had done such a spell as this. The minute James destroyed her heart, she made it her sole purpose to destroy his as well.

She knew that it was wrong and not the work of a proper witch. It went against everything that she’d been taught and everything she had always strongly believed. But in her weakened state, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She had nothing left, which meant she had nothing left to lose either. James on the other hand, had everything to lose. She was just making sure that it came to fruition.

Just then, there was a rapping at her front door. She watched as the burning photo dissolved into nothing more than a pile of ash. Assured that it was completely extinguished, she arose from the bed and took one last look at herself in the mirror. A smug smile crept over her lips, and suddenly through her eyes, she looked much prettier than before. Her eyes were no longer desolate and empty but full of mischief and spark.

She grabbed her purse off a chair and went to answer the door.

“Hey! I was beginning to think you’d bailed on us.” Her friend Stephanie stood smiling at the door.

“No way,” Alison grinned. “I’m ready to have a little fun.”

“Angela is waiting in the car,” Stephanie said, as they walked down the stairs and into the parking lot.

They got inside and head off towards a popular nightspot in Pinewood Lake. The only nightspot, really. A club called the Maraschino. They featured live bands on Friday and Saturday nights and they were off to join in the fun.

Stephanie Mason and Alison had been friends since high school. She had been one of the only people who had bothered to look past her tough exterior, and get to know the scared girl underneath. Plus it didn’t hurt that Stephanie was extremely supportive of her magical talents. Stephanie was the first person ever to take an actual interest in her mystical studies. Later, Alison had realized that it was because Stephanie herself possessed a metaphysical talent. She had been psychic for pretty much her entire life. Once they had shared these secrets with each other, it created a lasting bond that carried them way beyond the drama of high school.

Angela Jenson was a fellow witch and four years older than Stephanie and Alison. She also happened to be the ex-fiancée of their other best friend, Kyle. They had called off their wedding several months before, but Angela was still bitter over it. Her anger, coupled with Alison’s venom for James, was proving to fill the night with a lot of drinking and man hating.

They sat a small table in the far corner of the room. The waitress had just refilled their drinks again, and they were laughing heartedly.

“So I said to this guy, I’m a lesbian. You have a penis. Therefore I am not interested,” Angela said with a laugh, as she tossed her long red hair over her shoulder.

“And he bought it?” Stephanie asked curiously as she sipped on her Mai Tai.

“Well, yeah. I mean, how could he argue with that?” Angela shrugged.

“But you’re not a lesbian.” Stephanie shook her head.

“Well, I might as well be. I hate all men,” Angela announced.

“Oh, you do not!” Stephanie retorted.

“Yes, I do. That despicable, horrendous, sorry excuse for a man—Kyle—has ruined all men for me.”

“I hear he’s just going by plain old ‘Kyle’ now,” Alison joked with her.

“Well, whatever. I’m serious.” Angela looked to Alison, “back me up here. Men are not worth the trouble. Am I right?”

Alison nodded as she took a sip of her drink, “you got that right.”

“But men can do stuff,” Stephanie interjected weakly.

“Like what?” Angela wanted to know.

“Well, there’s the whole sex thing.”

“Please. This is the twenty-first century. I have a vibrator,” Angela shrugged.

Stephanie grimaced, “gross! Too much information!”

“Well, you asked.”

“Well, men are good for other stuff too.”

“Such as?” Alison prodded her.

Stephanie shifted in her seat and sighed, “how about killing spiders? Or changing tires?”

“I can do that with magic,” Alison said dismissively.

“You aren’t supposed to do that with magic,” Angela scolded her drunkenly, with a slap to her wrist.

“That’s not harming anyone.”

“Well, the spider might disagree with you.”

They all started laughing again, just as the main band for the evening came out onto the stage. At the microphone stood a man with shoulder length brown hair. It was slightly wavy, and tousled in a way that was supposed to be sexy. He wore a white t-shirt, and torn blue jeans and combat boots. And his arms were adorned with several tattoos. His voice was rugged and strong as he began singing a slow tempo song. He was staring at the floor, deep into the music. All at once, the tempo picked up and the band began playing wildly. He glanced up at the audience with a look that could only be described as smoldering bedroom eyes. The girls in the club began to scream loudly.

This prompted the three friends to look up and see what the fuss was about.

“Ooh, it’s Jason Stark,” Angela muttered appreciatively.

“Who?” Stephanie asked confused.

“Jason Stark. He’s practically famous here. And so very hot,” she murmured appreciatively.

Stephanie watched him singing as he jumped around the stage, clawing at his shirt while making sexy eyes at all the women in the front row.

“He’s lame,” she groaned. “Look at him. He thinks he’s all sexy. And that’s not sexy.”

“Sure it is. Look at the way he moves.” Angela’s blue eyes shone mischievously. “He’s like sex on a stick.”

“I wouldn’t mind being that microphone.” Alison agreed with Angela’s assessment.

Stephanie looked back up at the stage and wondered what it was she was missing. I mean, the guy was nice looking, in a rough, street urchin sort of way. Definitely not the type of guy she would be interested in.

“I thought you guys were all man hating?” Stephanie reminded them.

Angela tore her eyes away from the stage, “oh, we are. I hate him. But I wouldn’t mind using him for sex.”

Stephanie nearly spit her drink out at that statement. Angela always had a way of saying things. She was very matter of fact and to the point. She didn’t mince words. Stephanie was used to it by now, but every once in awhile it still caught her off guard.

After Angela and Alison were done drooling, they returned to their conversation.

“So how are you doing?” Angela asked Alison.

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I just meant the whole James thing…you don’t talk about it much.”

“What’s there to talk about? He left me and now I hope he’s miserable,” she shrugged.

“Well, yeah. Of course. But here I am going on and on about how much I violently dislike Kyle and you’ve barely said two words about James. Where’s the hate?”

“Look Angela, I just don’t want to talk about it, okay? There’s nothing to say. It’s over and I’m over it. It’s time to move on,” she said irritably.

The last thing she wanted to do was talk about her feelings. Those were private and not to be shared. Especially the fact that she was performing vengeance spells on him. No one could ever know about that. Least of all Angela. She’d never let her get away with doing such a thing. That was an ass kicking she wasn’t looking forward to.

After they finished their set, Jason Stark walked off the stage and went to the bar. Several girls came up to him and offered to buy him drinks. He politely declined as he grabbed his beer and headed to a spot at the end of the bar to wait for his band mates. As he sat there, his eyes scanned the crowd. He always enjoyed this scene. Girls screaming for him, treating him like a real rock star. It was the closest he’d ever get, he realized. Local celebrity. But he was cool with that. For a few hours he could be famous then he could go back to his real life. Not that it was much of a life. He worked out of his garage, fixing and customizing motorcycles. He made a decent living, but it wasn’t exactly steady work. Sometimes he was ahead, sometimes he was behind. He lived life for the moment. Preferring the rush of the now rather than worrying about the disappointment of the future.

Now as he studied the crowd he noticed a table of young women. A redhead, a brunette and a very lovely looking blonde. She was the one who caught his eye. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a pink top. Her long golden hair was flowing down her shoulders, and he watched as she flipped it casually aside as she laughed with her friends. Jason was captivated by her. With that notion, he decided to approach their table.

“Oh my god! Jason is coming over here,” Angela said excitedly in a hushed voice.

Stephanie turned to look and Angela smacked her hand. “Don’t look at him!”

“Why not?”

“Because, you’re supposed to pretend you don’t know he’s coming over here.”

“He’s not coming over here anyway. He’s probably just on his way to the bathroom or something,” Stephanie assumed as she turned back around.

Moments later Jason stood behind Alison and smiled at them.

“Hey ladies,” he grinned amicably. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“You were really hot,” Angela swooned drunkenly.

“Very,” Alison agreed.

Stephanie just smiled and said nothing. This pained Jason, as she was the one he was aching to speak to. He touched her shoulder and she turned to face him.

“What about you? Did you like it?” He asked her.

“Sure. It was cool,” she said unenthusiastically.

“Right. Glad you enjoyed it.” He was slightly disappointed at her lackluster reaction.

“Do you want to sit down?” Angela scooted a chair out with her foot.

“Sure.”

Jason sat down across from Stephanie and made himself comfortable at their table. He leaned in closer to Stephanie.

“So, maybe you’d like to dance?” He suggested to her.

“Me?” She asked with surprise. “I-I don’t think so,” she shook her head.

“Why not? Don’t you like to dance?”

“No. I-I mean yes. I just don’t want to.”

“So you like to dance, just not with me?” He asked with surprise.

Stephanie didn’t know what to say to him. She’d been completely taken aback at his interest in her. He made her nervous.

“Um, it’s not you. It’s just, well, I’m a lesbian,” she said finally.

Angela and Alison tried not to burst out laughing as Jason looked at her blankly.

“You’re a lesbian?” He asked unconvinced.

“Yes. So you see, I can’t dance with you because of the gayness. Sorry,” she smiled weakly.

“Are you serious or are you blowing me off?”

“I-I’m serious. I’m very gay. I’m big with the gayness. Ask anyone. I even have Melissa Etheridge posters in my room,” she told him. “And even though your hair is very long and extremely bouncy and touchable, I’m afraid I can still tell that you’re a man.”

Jason stared at her and watched as she tried not to explode into giggles. Her friends were chuckling as well. Suddenly he felt like the biggest idiot in the entire world. She was totally blowing him off and it was upsetting. He stood up and grabbed his beer from the table.

“Okay then. Well, I’m sorry I tainted your girl’s night out with my manly man-ness. Carry on,” he said somewhat bitterly as he turned around and walked back to the bar.

Angela then kicked Stephanie under the table.

“Ouch! What the hell was that for?” Stephanie cried.

“Are you insane? You told Jason Stark you were gay? What is wrong with you?” She groaned.

“What? I thought that was the funny thing to say. You said it was earlier! We all laughed about it,” Stephanie pointed out.

“Well, that was different. That story is only used for losers and/or ugly men. That,” she pointed in Jason’s direction, “was Jason Stark! Sex on a stick, remember?”

“I-I don’t think he’s that sexy,” Stephanie protested.

“Well, you need glasses,” Angela scoffed.

“Maybe she really is gay?” Alison suggested as she finished off her drink.

Stephanie smacked her arm. “Shut up. I am not,” she pouted. Then, “you really think he’s hot?”

“Uh, yeah.” Angela gave her an annoyed look. “And you just let him go. I think you should go back up to him and tell him you made a mistake and you’d love to dance with him.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Stephanie shook her head. “Besides, how can I mistake being gay? It wasn’t a mistake, it was a lie.”

“Then tell him you lied.”

“No.”

“Well, I would.”

“What ever happened to ‘we don’t need men, we have vibrators’? I-I thought we were all bitter and hateful?” Stephanie tried to remind them.

“Well, Alison and I are. You’re not.”

“But I wanna be man hating too,” she pouted. “Can’t I be part of the club?”

“No. We need someone to live vicariously through. Now go!”

Alison laughed and pushed her a little. “Yeah, go on. Go get him,” she urged her.

“I don’t wanna.”

“Go!” Angela kicked her again.

Stephanie glared at her, “stop kicking me!”

Alison and Angela stared at her relentlessly until she gave in. She groaned, “fine. Okay. I’ll go talk to him.”

She got up and headed towards the bar where he was sitting.

“This is so stupid,” she muttered to herself.

Jason sat alone contemplating what had just happened. He’d been turned down. Cold. It was something that had never happened to him before. At least not in a very long time. For some reason, it only made him want this girl more and he didn’t even know her name. He was getting ready to go back over to their table, when he saw Stephanie approaching him. He smiled smugly and leaned back into the bar to wait for her approach.

“Hey,” she said softly as she looked away from him.

“Hey.”

She shifted her feet awkwardly and looked up at him, “so, did you still want that dance?”

“I thought you were gay?” He questioned her.

“Well, I was. But you know, you converted me,” she shrugged.

“Conversion? For me? I’m flattered,” he laughed.

“Well, you should be. I hear it’s pretty unusual. In fact I bet it’s never been done before.”

He smiled at her. He was happy she had come around, because if she hadn’t he would have surely made a fool of himself trying to convince her.

“So, what’s your name anyway?” He asked curiously.

“Stephanie.”

“I’m Jason.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said quickly.

“Right. I guess they said that before the performance, huh?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention,” she admitted. Then, “but Angela told me.”

“Oh. Well, good. At least someone was paying attention,” he noted.

“So do you want to dance? Because if we don’t dance, Angela is just going to keep kicking me. And frankly, my shins hurt.”

He laughed a little and offered her his hand and gestured to the dance floor.

“We can’t have that now, can we?”

They disappeared onto the dance floor and Angela sighed contentedly to Alison, “aren’t they so pretty together?”

Alison nodded and held up her empty glass.

“I’m gonna get a refill. Looks like the waitress went on break or something.”

She stood up and walked over towards the bar. As she passed his table, a dark haired man watched her appreciatively. She was attractive, he thought. Not really his normal type, but she had an air about her. Normally he was partial to blondes, but this one had something unique and exotic about her. He noticed that when she walked through the crowd, she kept her head down, averting her eyes. Insecurity, he surmised. A lot of it. And that was just his type.

He stood up and walked over to where she waited at the bar. He leaned in next to her and smiled.

“Hey there.”

Alison looked up at him awkwardly, “uh, hey.”

“What’re you drinking?” He asked.

“Um, Bloody Mary.”

He gestured to the bartender to refill her glass and set money down on the bar. “It’s on me.”

She picked up his money and tried to hand it back to him. “Thanks, but you don’t have to.”

He refused to take the money. “I want to though.”

She shrugged, “Thanks.” She was not accustomed to men buying her drinks and wasn’t sure how to react.

“So, has anyone ever told you that you are stunning?” He asked with his best flirtatious grin.

Alison was even less accustomed to men calling her stunning, which provoked her to look away from him nervously.

“Um, no. No one has ever said that, that I can recall,” she said softly.

“Well, you are,” he smiled. “So what’s your name, sweetie?”

Alison pushed her hair back from her face, “Alison.”

He offered her his hand, “Logan. Logan Winters.”

She shook his hand uncomfortably. “I should probably get back to my friend now.”

She started to walk away and he grabbed her arm. “Aw, don’t run off. We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.”

“Talk? About what?”

“You. Why don’t you tell me about you?” He grinned.

Alison was completely taken off guard at his attention. Something inside of her told her it would be best if she just walked away and stuck the ‘man hating’ theme of the night. But another part of her was flattered that this guy showed an interest in her. Maybe things were looking up already?

“What do you want to know?” She asked him.

“For starters, you got a boyfriend? Some big scary type isn’t gonna come beating me up, is he?” He laughed.

She shook her head, “no. I’m in between boyfriends at the moment.”

“Excellent. Then I guess it’s a good thing I came along. A girl like you should never be alone,” he said with a wink.

Alison smiled at him. It was the first time anyone had ever tried to pick up on her at a bar. Or anywhere for that matter. Something about him made her feel instantly comfortable. She wasn’t sure if it was his charm or the fact that she was already very drunk. Either way, she decided to sit down with him at the bar and get to know him.

Stephanie and Jason came off the dance floor and went to sit down at a table. Jason smiled at her.

“So, that was fun. You’re a good dancer,” he told her.

“Thanks. Mostly I just sway a lot and hope I don’t fall over. But I’m glad I pulled it off.”

“You did.”

“So, um, I should probably get back to my table now,” she said glancing around the room trying to find her friends.

“Already?”

“Yeah. Thanks for the dance though.” She stood up.

“Let me at least buy you a drink,” he offered.

Stephanie debated whether or not she wanted to accept his offer. Something about him made her extremely anxious, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. When he had pulled her closer to him on the dance floor, she had felt something. And it wasn’t the normal tingle of attraction, though there was that too. It was a flash in her mind, like a premonition. And it had scared her. Being an intuitive, she was used to premonitions and visions and she took them seriously. She was rarely ever wrong. And something about Jason frightened her. Not because she thought he was a psycho or anything. The feeling she had gotten wasn’t necessarily a bad one. But she knew as soon as he touched her that he was going to change her life forever. She just didn’t know how or why. Or if she was ready for that.

“Um, sure. Okay. One drink, then I really should get back,” she said reluctantly.

He gestured to the waitress and she came over and took their orders. Jason leaned over the table and looked at Stephanie.

“So, how old are you anyway?” He asked her curiously.

“Twenty-three. You?”

“Twenty-six,” he told her. “Have you lived here all your life?”

“Yeah, mostly. We moved here when I was six. I was born in Texas.”

“Texas? Awesome. So was your dad like a cowboy and shit?”

“A cowboy? Hardly. I hear there are other jobs in Texas now.”

“Well, what do I know? I’ve never been there. I always think of cowboys. And oil wells. Were there oil wells where you lived?”

“Actually, yeah. I used to think they were like big black giraffes drinking water out of the ground,” she recalled.

“Why’d you guys move here?” He asked.

“My dad got a job or something. I was pretty young. He works for an import/export company.”

“Cool. What about your mom?”

Stephanie looked away uncomfortably, “she died almost a year ago.”

“Damn…I’m sorry. That sucks,” he said sympathetically.

“Yeah, it does,” she agreed. “It was a car accident. I take care of my sister now. She’s sixteen.”

“You do? Where’s your dad?”

“France. I think,” she shrugged. “He’s not really in the picture anymore.”

“Oh.” Jason was realizing that this conversation was tanking. Usually talking about a girl’s family was the easiest way to get her to open up. But this time it was only leading to badness. He tried to change the subject. “So, uh, what do you do for a living?”

Stephanie usually shied away from this question. Most people wouldn’t understand when she told them that she was a psychic and worked in a metaphysical supply shop. But she told herself that she wasn’t really interested in this guy anyway, so what would it hurt? Maybe he’d think she was mentally ill and go away.

“I’m a psychic. I work at a place called The Secret Garden,” she told him with a sigh.

“You’re a what?” He started to laugh. “Oh, I get it. It’s a joke. Funny.”

“It’s not a joke. I really am. That’s what I do.”

He looked at her oddly. First she was a lesbian, now she was a psychic. Either this girl was insane, or just really enjoyed messing with him.

“So let me get this straight—you’re a converted lesbian psychic from Texas?”

“Right,” she nodded. “Well, sort of. The lesbian part was a lie. But the rest is true.”

He studied her face and started to smile. “I like you, Steph. You’re an interesting girl. Every word that comes out of your mouth is a surprise. I like that.”

“You do?” She was shocked. “You don’t think I’m a lunatic or possibly deluded in some way?”

“Well, maybe. But who am I to judge? You’re cute. I can put up with a few idiosyncrasies.”

“I’m cute?”

“Very,” he grinned. “And admit it, you must think I’m pretty hot as well. I converted you from fake gayness. That’s pretty damn important.”

“You’re not that hot,” she protested. “I’m sure you couldn’t convert someone for real.”

“I probably could,” he shrugged. “I have a way about me”

“You’re also very humble,” she noted dryly.

“Oh come on. I’m right, aren’t I? You turned me down, and yet you were compelled to seek me out. That’s my way. I have a thing,” he said confidently.

She started laughing at him. “You really are obnoxious. I was only compelled to seek you out because my friends forced me to. And then we danced, and now we’re done.” She stood up from the table and started to walk away.

He called after her, “Steph!”

She turned and looked at him with irritation. “What?”

“What’s your phone number?” He smirked at her.

She stared at him in disbelief. How could he ask her for that now? She had just put him down and stormed away and now he wanted her phone number? He was the crazy one, not her.

“Why would I give you that?” She asked.

“Because. I might wanna give you a call. Have my fortune read or something.”

She started to turn around again but stopped. She sighed and walked back over to the table. She told him her number and he scrawled it across a napkin.

“I’ll give you a call sometime,” he grinned at her.

“Whatever.” She walked away from the table, this time without looking back.

Jason stuffed the napkin into his pocket and smiled satisfactorily. She was going to be a lot of fun, he thought.

Stephanie walked back over to the table where Angela now sat alone. She was nursing her drink and looking around the room worriedly.

“Hey. Where’s Alison?” Stephanie asked as she plopped down across from her.

“I don’t know,” Angela shook her head. “She went to get a refill, but she never came back. I saw her talking to some guy at the bar, but when I came back from the bathroom, she was gone.”

“Do you think she’s okay?” Stephanie asked.

“I guess. Maybe she just got lucky?” Angela said hopefully.

“Maybe…”

“Should we call her?”

“Yeah. Just to make sure.”

Stephanie dug in her purse for her cell phone. She pulled it out and dialed Alison’s number. It rang several times then went to voice mail.

“Hey, it’s Steph. I hope the reason you didn’t answer is because you’re busy making out with a really hot guy,” she said jokingly. “But either way, give me a call. Bye.”

She hung the phone up and looked at Angela. “Did the guy look nice?”

“Yeah, sure. He was tall and had short dark hair. Kind of cute. Maybe. I really couldn’t tell. He was too far away,” she admitted. “But he didn’t look like a serial killer or anything.”

“Yeah, but that’s what they always say,” Stephanie pointed out. “You always see those people on the news saying ‘Well he seemed like such a nice guy until he hacked up his family into tiny pieces’.”

Angela considered that possibility for a moment, then waved it away. “Nah, I’m sure he’s not a killer. Alison has better intuition than that.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Angela leaned over the table. “So, how was Jason? Is he awesome? Did you kiss him?” She asked interestedly.

“Ugh. Let’s not talk about Jason,” she groaned.

“What? You didn’t like him?”

“He’s pompous. And irritating. And no, I didn’t like him.”

“Oh…well, that’s disappointing,” Angela sighed unhappily. “I always thought he’d be dazzling and charming. He wasn’t dazzling?”

“I’m sadly un-dazzled. But I sort of gave him my phone number anyway,” she admitted softly.

“Why would you do that if you didn’t like him?”

“Well, he’s sort of…cute, in an abstract sort of way,” she conceded.

“I knew it! You do like him!”

“No, I don’t,” she insisted. Then weakly, “I-I’m just not ready to never see him again. Besides, it was like a compulsion. He asked me for my number and I said no, then before I knew it, the numbers just spewed from my lips. It was out of my hands.”

Stephanie wasn’t actually being dramatic this time. She had felt compelled to give him her number. She just didn’t quite understand why. The feeling that he invoked in her was powerful enough that she wanted to stay away from him. Yet at the same time, she was afraid if she did, she’d be losing something important. In the end, she had decided not to risk it. If he was important for some reason, it was worth it to keep the lines open. And if nothing ever happened, that would be just fine with her.

Later that evening after Stephanie and Angela had gone home, Stephanie received a phone call. She was half asleep on the couch watching an infomercial when the phone jolted her out of her thoughts. She grabbed it quickly before it had a chance to wake her sister Melissa up.

“Hello?”

“Stephanie, it’s me.” Alison was crying on the other end of the phone.

“What’s wrong? Where did you go?” She asked her hurriedly.

“Something terrible happened.”

“What? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay…but there was an accident,” Alison sobbed. “Something really bad happened, Steph.”

“Oh my God. What?”

“There was this guy and I went home with him…”

“Oh no. Was he a serial killer? I knew he was a serial killer!” Stephanie exclaimed.

“No, he wasn’t a serial killer,” Alison assured her softly. Then she whispered, “he tried to rape me.”

Stephanie got off the couch and grabbed her jacket. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. The police are here,” Alison told her. “Steph, I-I killed him.”

“Alison…oh my God. You killed him? How?”

“It was an accident,” Alison sobbed into the phone.

“Tell me where you are.”

Alison gave her the address and Stephanie hung up the phone. She immediately called their friend Kyle. She gave him what little details she had and he insisted that she come to get him. She ran out the door and sped to Kyle’s house.

Once they arrived at the scene, they saw Alison standing out front of an apartment building. She was surrounded by policemen and paramedics. Flashing emergency lights lit up the night sky, creating a red glow that flooded the street. They jumped out of the car and rushed over to her.

Stephanie pulled her into a tight embrace, “oh my God. I can’t believe this. Are you alright?”

“He tried to attack me,” Alison said sadly. “I-I didn’t mean to do it.”

“What did you do?” Kyle asked softly.

She looked at him through teary eyes. “He fell off the roof.”

“Shit,” Kyle muttered. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

Alison looked down at her feet. “He tried. He tried to put his hands on me. He was so cruel…he wanted to rape me. But then I stopped him,” she explained. “We struggled and then he just fell. It was an accident.”

Kyle pulled her close. They had been friends for so long and he never imagined anything like this happening. A long time ago, the three of them had sworn they’d stick together through thick and thin. Kyle had just never dreamed something this horrible would happen to test them. He only wanted to be there for Alison to give her whatever she needed.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Stephanie joined their embrace. “You did what you had to do.”

“You were defending yourself. You had no choice,” Kyle reassured her.

Alison only responded by holding them tighter. She couldn’t speak. She could never speak about what happened on that roof. No one could ever know.

[Part Two]