Chapter One

'Thunder rumbles outside, lightning flashing through the windows of the old abandoned cabin. Shivering, Callista felt the ice pricks of cold. She wraps her arms about herself, rubbing her arms for warmth. Lightning flashes again, illuminating cell bars. Gasping in air, Callista reaches out with a trembling hand, but her hand only connects with a rocky terrain. Sucking in a sharp breath, Callista let her hand drop back to her side. Going in a slow circle, she tries to get her bearings.

"Callista," a voice booms around her, thundering like the weather outside. She backs up in surprise and terror, the voice familiar, but she couldn't place it, "Come back."

"Leave me alone!" she screams, her voice cracking at the end.

A chuckle surrounds her, the sound filled with malice. "I've waited so long for this time."

In an instant, the ground disappears from under her and she fell, her screams echoing the endless black hole. She felt the vicious winds tear at her, wanting blood. She cries out as she flew passed a branch, cutting into her side. Looking down below her, she couldn't see a thing. Then as she grew closer, the image of a thick branch swayed. Gasping as she let out a breath of relief, she reaches for it, her hand grazing the rough wood, but the winds tear her away.

A hand grasps her wrist, yanking her to a brutal stop, her arm aching. She is huffing, her whole body wearing down. She glances up, wanting to see her rescuer. A boy is crouching on the branch, his hands clutching her arm. A smile graced her lips, but the boy merely glanced up, his eyes blood red. He grins, sharp fangs slipping out. She screams, and he lunges.'

Callista cries out and shoots up into a sitting position. Heart beating frantically, she puts up a hand to her chest to steady herself. Sweat clings to her, beading on her forehead. She sucks in a breath, the nightmare passing. She crawls out of bed; the soaked liners outlining her body. Shaking her head, she yanks the sheets off the bed, huddling it in her arms. Turning around, she feels a cold draft brush pass her. Flinching, Callista drops the sheets, and she catches the windows open.

The sun is peaking over the horizon, sunrise around the corner. The window lurks above the forest that surrounds her back yard and the neighborhood. The Wayland Forest stretches over a few acers, connecting to another town a few miles away. The forest leaves are an emerald green in the dim light of morning.

Callista feels the peace of nature flow through her as she makes her way to the window. The forest has always calmed her down when she was stressed. It makes her think it has something to do with her past. The dark spots in her mind have kept her in the dark about ten years. When she reaches for those memories, all she gathers from it is deep sated anger and agony.

Shaking out of the corrupt thoughts, Callista pulls the window down, shutting off the breeze that came off the forest trees. She walks back to the sheets, then reaches for her phone, on the table beside her bed. The alarm clock she had set last night is about to go off. She frowns, the dream details coming to mind. It has been happening to her the last few months, the cell bars, the crouching boy, and the disturbing voice. The blood red eyes seem to glare at her in her mind, staring her down.

Her alarm blares in her hand, dragging Callista out of her thoughts. Turning it off, she sets it on the bed. She walks to the bathroom, turning on the water. After taking a quick shower, she grabs some casual clothes for school; the exams around the corner. It is the first day back from spring break. She slips on a pair of light blue shorts and slid on a red shirt. Humming under her breath, she picks up the sheets off the ground. She leaves her room, listening for the scurrying paws of her German Shepheard, Fiona.

She hears them and a smile blossoms on her face as she rounds the corner where the steps are located. She hears her bark, and she laughs, stepping down them. She enters the living room, where a fireplace is aflame. The door to the kitchen is open, as her parents are awake before her. Fiona is by the stove, her tail wagging. Callista's mother stands there, flipping pancakes. Her long honey hair is pulled into a ponytail. Her father sits at the long rectangular table, reading a newspaper. Shaking her head, she walks to the laundry bin and dumps the dirty sheets in.

"Good morning, baby girl," her father greets, peering around the newspaper, his dark brown eyes twinkling, "How was your night?"

"It was good. I ordered pizza for supper." she says, grinning at him. He nods and looks at his wife, who shoots Callista a disappointed glare.

"Pizza is bad for your health." her mother grumbles to herself, dropping a piece of bacon to Fiona, who snatched it off the ground.

"Bacon?" she asks, finding her seat at the table. Fiona makes her way over to lay at Callista's feet, her tongue lolling out on the side.

Her parents are rarely home, their jobs taking up most of their time. Right now, they both wore their professional clothing, getting ready for another day for the hospital. She never could remember what their jobs were, the words too hard to pronounce that Callista just gave up. They have tried to encourage her to submit applications into med-schools they went, to follow in their footsteps. Callista dreads the conversation that is bound to happen, how she doesn't believe she is cut out for college. Something else in the world calls out to her, maybe somewhere she belongs.

She picks up the glass of apple juice next to her empty plate, taking a small sip. Her mother comes over and slips two chocolate chip pancakes onto her plate. Licking her lips comically at her father, she digs into the food. Her father laughs, putting the newspaper to the side as her mother reaches his. Fiona sShawcrossbles to her feet as Callista's mother brings the plate of bacon.

"No," she orders her dog, "sit. Good girl."

A ding fills the kitchen, and her father glances at a small black box beside his paper. He sighs and looks at his wife. She frowns and nods, when another dung goes off. Callista knows what that means, growing up with doctors. Her mother flings her a timid smile, their breakfast ruined as they start to grab their stuff.

"Sorry, baby girl. Work calls," her mother says, coming around to press a kiss to her forehead, as she goes into the living room to grab her jacket. Her father follows, giving her the same kiss. Callista watches them as they pile through the door. Before it closed, her parents look back at her.

"Have a good day at school, honey. We might not be home until late," her father calls out. Callista smiles to herself, as she heard the door close behind them.

"Just like every day." she says to herself, the words echoing the house.

∞ † ∞ † ∞

On the way to her best friend, Sasha Lloyd's house, Callista munches on an apple. The skin breaks as her teeth sinks into the side, the juice exploding in her mouth. She drags her phone out as she walks along the sidewalks, cars speeding pass to get places. Her phone blinks with the time and she groans as it falls closer to when class starts. She rounds a corner on a four-way intersection, heading toward a familiar looming house. The front door is propped open with her best friend sitting on the welcome mat, staring into her phone. Her bouncing blonde hair is blowing in the spring breeze. Callista grins as she nears the front steps, the sound of her on the sidewalk alerting Sasha.

Her best friend's head jerks up and her green eyes meet hers across the yard. Giving her a broad smile, she stands. Leaning into the doorway, she screams goodbye to her mother. Callista tilts her head as Sasha makes her way to her.

"Your mom is still home?" she asks as Sasha comes to her side. They start walking, the minutes striking down for when school starts.

"Yes," Sasha replies, but then she frowns and looks at her, "why?"

"Hmm, my parents were paged to the hospital on a trauma." Callista explains, her eyebrows wrinkling with confusion.

"Ah, that's why she wasn't answering me when I said good morning or good night." Sasha says, her voice fills with laughter.

Callista laughs, but her heart isn't in it. Something about the day seems off, like the calm before a storm. Shrugging the feeling away, she and Sasha keep walking in silence for a little bit. The trees fade away and gives them a good view of their high school, Gadon High. The building has six floors, each floor for each grade. The school has brick exterior with tiled interior. The yard is filling with student coming back from vacation for the new semester. Sasha hums under her breath as they notice a tall, light-haired male making his way through the students, toward a small group off to the side.

Parker Murphy tips his head back, laughing as a guy on his right spoke. His dirty blonde hair falling forward as he looks back at his friends. His eyes flicker up and meet hers across the courtyard. Ocean blue, with green around the pupil. Her heart slows as they stare, the moments coming to a stop.

"I could cut this tension with a butter knife." Sasha says, whistling sharply. The guy Parker is speaking to, catches her eyes and looks back at Parker. Scoffing, he claps his friend's shoulder, successfully gaining his attention. Once their connection ended, Callista looks back at her best friend.

"It's awkward now," she says, her voice low, "We said it wouldn't be. That we could still be friends."

Sasha rolls her dark green eyes, lopping their arms together. "You broke up with him. You guys were doing great. In a week, you aren't anymore," she explains, dragging Callista along toward school, "He has to adjust to not being with you anymore. You guys were together for three years."

Callista nods, her eyes focusing on the sliding glass doors of the school. Her school director stood at the entrance as they walk inside, the cool air surrounding the two girls. He is middle aged, with wrinkles around metal blue eyes. He smiles at them, the wrinkles more prominent.

"Hello, Ms. Malik and Ms. Lloyd. How was your break?" he asks, folding his hands behind his back.

"I learned more on art by Ms. Drake," Sasha explains, her voice filling with excitement, "She said I won't be needing any more lessons soon."

The principle laughs, his hands coming back to clap. "That's amazing, Ms. Lloyd," he praises. His eyes turn to Callista, who looks away, "And you?"

"Well, not much. I haven't figured out my choice yet and my parents were on call all week." she says.

He sighs, his eyes hold disapproval. "You are a bright student, Callista. I wish you could see that."

She smiles at him, but Sasha grabs her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. They say goodbye to the director. The halls fill their vision, the dead end has a table with labeled folders in a box. They reach it and look for their names, schedules and lunch times on them.

"Ah," Callista exclaims, pulling the tan folder out of the box, "Found mine."

"I got mine." Sasha says, a smile blooming on her face.

They bring their schedules together to compare classes. Callista notices first they have second, fifth and seventh hour together. They have lunch together as well. Laughing, Callista slips the schedule into the pocket of her bag as they go sperate ways to their first lectures. The first class is English IV and the last of her high school experience. She reaches the class just as the first bell rings, indicating class. The teacher pulls the door open, her eyes catching Callista in the hallway. She gestures her inside and give her a piece of paper.

Callista goes inside the classroom, looking for her seat. She came across her seat, the o e she usually sits in, but like always, Parker Murphy is right next to her. Inwardly groaning, she places her bag by the chair, her heart in her stomach. Callista settles into the seat, taking out her notepad and pencils.

People pile into the room, laughing and talking about their break. Everyone finds their seats and most of them are split up. Callista eyes the door from the corner of her eyes, waiting for the familiar man to walk through the doors. When he did, Parker is talking to a girl around the same height as he is. She is blonde and curvy, with a tight blue dress on. She giggles, throwing her hair to the side, while biting her lip. Parker sends her a smirk, which makes her cheeks tint red. Callista feels a flame of jealous spike through her.

One week. That is how long it took him to move on. The blonde bimbo is Kayley Linc, the flirtatious one in the school. Parker hated her once, but Callista guesses things change. Parker meets her eyes, his smile slipping, but Callista shakes her head, glancing at her notebook. She hears footsteps near her, and he slides into the seat to the right of hers.

She begins to doodle, waiting for the ten-minute late bell to ring, indicating class to begin. Callista isn't much of an artist, but it is easy to make out what she is drawing. Her eyebrows furrow, as her hands seem to have a mind of their own. She draws a crescent moon, filling it with swirls. Then a crown with a heart shaped top. The bell rings in the middle of her drawing, but she is too drawn into her sketching. The teacher begins to talk, indicating class session. She looks up, her whole-body trembling. Her head begins to pound with shocks of pain. The drawings are familiar. May be because she drew them many other times, the same dizziness and feelings flooding her.

"Callista, are you okay?" The teacher looks at her, worry adamant on her face. Callista opens her mouth to speak, but total dizziness took over. She gasps, her body tilting in the seat. Her teacher rushes forward to catch her before she faints, but strong arms came around her, familiar. Parker.

The darkness sweeps her up as he lifts her from the desk, the low murmuring off the teacher lulling her to close her eyes.