Freaksville (8 page)

Read Freaksville Online

Authors: Ashley Brooke Robbins

BOOK: Freaksville
12.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I nod.

“Nicks, over here bro!” one of the guys from the football team calls loudly to be heard over the bustle of the students.

Nicks and the guys appear in the doorway of the gym just then. When his eyes land on us, they light up. He smacks the guy who called for him on the back, and continues on up the bleachers.

“Seriously?” I growl through my teeth. Now everyone’s staring at us. But he keeps coming until he’s in front of me. The guys aren’t far behind him.

“Thanks for saving us some seats, man.” Kyle pounds fists with Devin.

“No problem,” he replies. Nicks sits down on the other side of me and beams. The guys fill in the other seats, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be sitting with the freak and the outsider, instead of their team.

Giving Devin a what-the-hell expression, I’m about to ask the question aloud, but Principal Knight taps on the microphone. “I need everyone’s attention,” he announces in a very serious voice. Something that I think gets everyone’s attention right away. There’s never a lot of seriousness in this school.

“Thank you. I’m sure some of you have heard the news already.” He goes on, comments punctuated by the girls crying. “A beloved student, Racheal Montgomery, was murdered last weekend.” There are gasps around the room, one of them mine. I didn’t really know her that well, but she was a member of my mom’s Coven. I used to see her every holiday. She was a cheerleader who wasn’t a cliché. She was actually nice, one of the few people who didn’t call me a freak to my face or behind my back.

What in the hell happened? Oh, Goddess, I have to tell Mom.

Without hesitation, I do something I’ve never done before. My mom’s never even taught me how, but I mentally invade the principal’s mind. I expect it to be one of the normal reasons, car accident, abusive boyfriend…but I come back to myself even more confused. I keep seeing blood, so much of it, a cloaked figure with a knife and some impending doom?

I must be fabricating something
.

Devin wraps his arms around me and tugs me closer. I guess he knows I needed it, even if I wouldn’t admit it aloud. Nicks takes my hand in his, I guess trying to comfort me, too. In other words, he’s sucking up.

My friends appear as scared and worried as I feel. Well, the “guy way” of looking scared, being angry. Especially Antonio, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry.

“Sheriff Morris is here to—” He shakes his head and steps away from the microphone, letting Billy take over.

“The town is going on alert. There hasn’t been any violence in years. Since the Alburgur incident.” Everyone on the last row freezes at the mention of his name. Denis Alburgur. A name I’ll never forget.

Denis used to go to school here. He was an outcast. Instead of bombers and people with guns shooting down everyone in sight, we have people claiming to be a part of the undead team. He claimed to be a vampire, claimed he had been since birth, and that he’d killed many. It blew up. All over the news, in the paper, on TV, online…it was all anyone could talk about.

I guess he thought people would bow down at his feet, like with Dracula.
Love Dracula, the actual guy. Vlad the Impaler.

Instead, they sent in the guys with the big nets to take him to the nuthouse. Before they got him there, an angry mob stopped the van and tipped it over, killing the driver, the attendant, and torturing Denis until he bled out from his wounds.

He wasn’t actually a vamp, far from it. He was human. As far as we know, he never hurt a soul. I guess he just wanted to be loved. He grew up in a bad home, had a shitty life.

You could only imagine what they would do if they ever found out the truth about us. For obvious reasons, we don’t like saying his name.

“Two girls have already been kidnapped and murdered out of town. And the murder here has the same MO.

“Don’t go out at night. If you do, go in groups. Be safe, and trust no one.” Billy stares down the crowd.
Why is he giving so much away? You’re not supposed to do that…are you?

He never was good with explaining or keeping some things to himself. I guess that’s why we get along so well.

I stand once the assembly’s over with. “I need to go home. I have to tell mom and we have to–” The gym’s not completely empty yet.

“Can you get a ride?” Devin flexes his hands. “I have a stupid test to take today. If I fail, there goes my grade for the rest of the year.”

“Poor baby.” I slap his arm.

“I’ll take her,” Jake volunteers, surprising us all. He hardly ever talks.

“Thanks, Jakey.” I give him a one-armed hug.
Now I can question him….

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

~ A Wiccan Woman’s Cry ~

 

We pause by the door where Billy and Principal Knight are talking. Billy takes a look at my face and so does Principal Knight and an understanding passes between them. “Go on home. Make sure to eat something.” Billy goes right back to talking with the principal.

Without saying anything to each other, we make our way to the parking lot. Ever since I’ve known Jake, he’s never asked any unnecessary questions. He’s always just known things. So, when we get in his small truck and he turns to me with a serious expression and asks, “Are you okay? I mean besides you knowing that girl and all,” all I can do is stare for a moment.

“Yeah.” I reply awkwardly.

“About Nicks—” He pulls out of the parking lot.

“He has his asshole-ish tendencies.” I shrug it off. “No biggie.”

He gazes straight ahead, chewing on the inside of his cheek. One of his nervous habits, not that he’d ever let on he gets nervous. Then he shakes his head, briefly glancing at me. “I know you. I know when you want to kick his ass. Why’re you pretending you don’t want to?”

“I’m just….” I lean heavily against the window. “Tired.”

“Then you should go home and get some rest,” he remarks. “Instead of sticking your nose in books.”

“Not that kind of tired,” I whisper, staring absentmindedly out the window.

 

<<<->>>

 

My mom gasped when the news left my lips. She sat unmoving for twenty minutes and then she got on the phone. First she called Racheal’s mom—Janice—and then I don’t know who else or even what all she did. Mostly because I zoned out, not wanting to be there anymore.

 

<<<->>>

 

In Wicca—which is what my religion is technically considered—we don’t do the “funeral” thing. We believe in celebrating the life she had the chance to live. Not crying as her body goes into the ground. We believe in helping her soul, spirit, whatever you want to call it, move on from this realm and be at peace with what happened.

She felt closest to fire, and it couldn’t be a more perfect day to celebrate her life. The sky looks like it’s ablaze as the sun slowly starts its descent.

It’s like she’s standing right here with us in the circle of men and women.

Mom lets the match fall into the fire pit and the heat welcomes me with its warmth. Seeing Janice standing there by herself at the edge of the group has my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. I hurry over and embrace her. After a moment of hesitation, she hugs me back. “Thanks, Nessa.” She whimpers and then lets me go, going on to accept hugs from other people.

As soon as my mom let out the SOS call, everybody hurried to our meeting spot. Down the mountain a little bit from our house, through the woods into a clearing in the shape of a circle, a place where people hardly ever go anymore. Because of the ghost stories and things people have “seen” down here.

It was rumored that an old, dark witch had a small cabin down here. She kidnapped little kids, sucked their souls from their bodies, and cooked the remains, feeding them to her animals.

It wasn’t exactly a myth, though. I would know because that old, dark witch was my Grandma Delliana. Except she wasn’t evil, she was just antisocial sometimes and she most definitely wasn’t a succubus. Ignorant people, I swear. A succubus isn’t a witch, she’s a seductress demon.

My grandma only liked you if you were family and even then only for a short visit. Soon you’d end up getting on her nerves because you’d “think too loud.” Still, she’d never hurt a fly. The rumors were created by close-minded people and drama queens who need entertainment in their lives.

She died before I was born, but my mom tells me stories.

My mom claps her hands twice to get everyone’s attention. As the High Priestess of our small coven, she leads us—especially me—into not doing stupid stuff. And as the High Priestess’s daughter I’m supposed to be well behaved. That part always doesn’t work out.

Soft music starts playing from my iPod.


The Earth, the Air, the Fire, the Water. Return, return, return….”

She walks to Beth first. “Merry meet, Sister,” she greets, giving her a reassuring nod. This is her first time joining us and she grips a green candle in shaking fingers.

“Merry m-meet,” she replies.

“Just breathe.” My mom squeezes her shoulder, “From the sacred, sweet grass we stand on, this night. To the soil that feeds our trees. I call Earth to our circle.” Her clear voice carries. The green candle lights itself. “Thank you, Sasha dear.”

Sasha nods once trying for her normal devious grin, but I can see the sorrow shining in her dark eyes. She was really close to Racheal. When Mom calls Air, the wind bends the boughs of the trees and Molly coughs, guiltily staring down to the ground. This continues with each element. When Fire’s called, I get another sudden—much welcomed—rush of warmth. When Water’s called, it brings a drizzle, and I tilt my head back and try to catch raindrops in my mouth.

Then she moves to the center of the circle, and, once everyone’s calmed down again, she holds up a purple candle. “Tonight, on this rather windy night….” She gives a pointed, playful look to Molly, who grins sheepishly. “We welcome you, Spirit, with open arms and ask you to joins us.”

Once the candle lights itself, she takes a deep breath. Holding her arms above her head, she gracefully dances around the circle three times before stopping in the middle again, I want to clap happily but stop myself.

“We’re here to celebrate the life of young Racheal,” my mom calls out. “She was taken too soon, and now we’re here to help her move on.” Then she goes on to tell the story of when she and her mother first came to join us.

The stories continue around the circle, and Janice starts to cry at one point. My mom comforts her, and when it’s my turn, I freeze, until I get one of Mom’s reassuring nods.

“I actually didn’t know her very well, but she was always nice to me when we did talk. Um…. I think it’s obvious she’ll be missed, and I don’t know what else to say.” I pass her pom-pom on to the person beside me.

After the last story, the women and very few men bow their heads in silence. I try to, but the flame on the Spirit candle catches my attention. And then something rushes through me, probably one of the ghosts that like to hang around and torment Billy. But, with the rush, I get a sudden realization.

To get the answers to my questions, I need to have my own circle.

“We ask that Earth helps Racheal find her home.” My mom calls. “Air, to blow away any leftover negativity and then wrap around her to keep her safe. Fire to keep her warm and comfortable through this next journey…. Water to cleanse her of the wounds that might’ve stayed with her soul as it left its vessel. And Spirit to bring the other witches’ souls to help carry her through to the next realm.”

Janice drops to her knees and cries out then screams at the top of her lungs. “Why?” She brings tears to my eyes, and that’s what helps me make up my mind.

I’ll get answers for her and Racheal.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

~ The Circle ~

 

My mom walks in on me changing the next morning. I think she would’ve been less surprised if I suddenly grew a penis. I shrug, glancing over my shoulder at her. “Did I forget to mention I’m now Tinker Bell?”

Honestly, though? With everything going on, I forgot about my wings.

She insists on taking me to the doctor, to be more exact, to the morgue for her friend—I finally found out her name’s Patricia—to take blood and do a whole bunch of other tests she talked about that I ignored to study it. It, being me. Because having a healthy witch grow a pair of wings is not normal.

We pretty much stay the whole day there, so no school for me. I’m not complaining, but it is a little unnerving to be sitting in the same room as someone I used to know’s corpse.

FYI, they haven’t finished the autopsy.

Of course, when my mom runs out to get coffee and snacks for us, something has to happen. Patricia’s partner in cutting into people’s chests and breaking their rib cage’s comes in. Things get a little awkward. Patricia freezes, and I have to save her ass by saying that I’m interested in doing what they do, playing with intestines and innards and such.

He buys it and goes on to talk to her. I can’t help but notice her cheeks go pink.

Once he turns his back to both of us, I point to him and then to her and make a heart with my hands. She turns a bright tomato red, and then I slap an imaginary ass in front of me. My way of saying she needs to tap that already. Spitting out her coffee, she coughs and he’s there to slap her on the back, saving her.

It’s a good thing he’s there because I am too busy falling off my chair, laughing.

She isn’t too happy with me and once my mom comes back, she not-so-nicely kicks us out, saying she’ll get the test results back to us as soon as she can. I’m not expecting to hear anything from her anytime soon.

 

Tonight my mom and Billy are going out on their date night. Giving me the whole house to myself. Party,
whoop, whoop!

Ha-
ha
.

When someone needs answers, my mom usually scries, which is staring into a mirror, water, or a flame and being able to see things. Or getting the answers you need. Something she’s been trying to get me to at least attempt for a while now.

Other books

Freedom's Forge by Arthur Herman
Strangled by Brian McGrory
Bone Deep by Gina McMurchy-Barber
Flail of the Pharoah by Rosanna Challis
Wrapped in Silk by Fields, MJ
The Adventures Of Indiana Jones by Campbell & Kahn Black, Campbell & Kahn Black, Campbell & Kahn Black
Down Under by Bryson, Bill