Ch. 1 – Running Late Again
The tingling sensation had taken over again… pulling her further and further from the Stewart Manor… bidding her to let go. Nyah fought it, attempting to sleep without dreaming… afraid of what lurked there. It was unrelenting, calling her, as her body shook in protest – and then – the scream and darkness reigned again…
The little attic door burst open, sending dust and papers flying about, and ten year-old Nyah promptly fell straight out of bed onto the hard wooden floor with a loud 'plop'.
"I'm up, I'm up – really," Nyah grumbled to the impeccably sparkling trainers staring at her. She attempted to push her hair out of her eyes, but it persisted, making a dark curtain to cover her face from the light spilling into the room.
A soft, but irritated voice rang down, "You're quite late, actually." Anna turned back towards the door, with one more announcement, "Mother says you have five minutes and then she'll come for you herself… now, hurry!"
Beams of light had just begun to peek through the dirty attic window. Although she wanted to wake up, Nyah's eyes felt like someone poured sawdust in them and they screamed in protest at her attempts to get up and going. To add insult to injury, her head was overflowing with names, places, words, and ideas that while seemingly so familiar, meant nothing but another headache.
"Come on, Nyah!" she mumbled, pulling herself off the floor. "Why, oh why didn't I take my medicine last night?"
The morning sun was now just to the top of trees … Nyah was now 'officially' late. She jumped from the cot and dressed quickly in her blue and white uniform for school. Grabbing her jacket and not bothering to stop and tie up her trainers, she ran down the steps as fast as she could, thankful that the cold marble stone concealed the sound. Mother never approved of running in the house, but Nyah was desperate not to draw attention for being late, again.
Anna and Alexander, the twins, were at the front door, waiting with Mother, their schoolbags in hand. Alexander snickered as Nyah came into view, while Anna scolded him. Mother, however, simply eyed Nyah coldly…
Mother, a name that usually given to a warm, loving, caring person … but in the Stewart Manor, the name Mother was more of a title assigned to the person who now stood impatiently at the door. She was dressed impeccably with her over-processed straw-blond hair pulled into a tight bun, her makeup plastered, and her daytime cashmere olive-colored suit with matching gloves and shoes.
"Pricilla, please do try and be on time for once. Not everyone appreciates having to wait, while you sleep your morning away. And do something with your hair!" Mother hissed, looking down her nose at the small girl.
Nyah, or Pricilla, as Mother had called her, hung her head and said, "Yes, Mother."
Pricilla … the name itself made one pucker and wince all at the same time, especially the way Mother would say it. Although Pricilla was her given name, 'Nyah' is what everyone else called her. She certainly did not look like a 'Pricilla'. However, no one argued with Mother, ever, so Nyah answered to her Christian name like a good girl.
Nyah turned and walked to the small loo in the front hall to do something with her hair as Mother asked. Painfully aware of her straight, black, unkempt hair, Nyah attempted to smooth out the mop. Looking in the large oval mirror, she begged her reflection to cooperate just this once, but as always, the freckle-faced, dark-haired girl's hair continued to be a tangled mess. Mother would not be pleased, not that she ever was; at least not with Nyah.
Anna set her things by the door and called to her mother who was walking Alexander to the car, "I'll be just a moment."
"Do hurry dear; you know how Alexander hates to be late," replied Mother.
Anna rolled her eyes as she walked down the front hall to check on Nyah. Alexander could care less about being late … the only thing he cared about was impressing Mother and making everyone else's life miserable.
Anna was a couple of years older than Nyah, and as Mother insisted, Anna stood with perfect posture. Blond curls framed Anna's porcelain skin effortlessly, her dark brown eyes filled with concentration. Taking the comb from Nyah, Anna managed to pull Nyah's hair into an acceptable ponytail within moments.
With a quick 'thanks', Nyah grabbed her schoolbags and dashed towards the door, but Anna, however, remained steadfast in the hall.
"Anna, come on!"
With a glance towards the kitchen, Anna asked, "What about these?" pointing to the tray of medications on the kitchen counter. "You know she'll count them."
Anna was right, Mother always counted Nyah's medicine to make sure she had actually taken it. If Mother found out that she hadn't, there was always a significant punishment.
As if that moment stretched out to infinity, all the reasons to take her medicine played in Nyah's head … but there were so many reasons not to.
With a sigh of defeat, Nyah moved to grab her daily dose of mind-numbing pills when an all-to-familiar sound filled her ears: "Nyah … Anna … late, late, late. Go, now!" Mrs. Cleary, the housekeeper, shooed the girls out of the kitchen.
"But …" began Nyah.
"No buts today, Nyah, shoo!" The girls ran to the car, hoping Mother wouldn't be too angry.
Nyah's dreams continued to haunt her well into the school day. None of it makes sense, though it never does, she thought, but there must be some connection – fireplaces, cars, and brooms – or was it a mop?
Catching Nyah in a moment of daydreaming during school, her professor yelled "Ms. Stewart! You will pay attention in my class!"
Nyah quickly apologized to Mr. Blakley and moved her eyes from the playground outside back to the blank paper sitting on her desk.
It was very difficult to pay attention today as there were less than two weeks until summer holiday, and the small, cramped, science classroom seemed to sense the anticipation.
Pulling a stray black strand of hair out of her eyes, Nyah hurriedly scribbled down the last bit of formula to ready herself for the science test. The rest of the class time was spent reading and formatting an answer … another question … another answer. Nyah's head began to buzz with all the unanswered questions in her head. She massaged her temples and told herself to concentrate, silently cursing herself for not taking her medicine this morning.
Science was not Nyah's best subject, but this was the biggest test of the quarter and she couldn't mess this up. She was struggling with the last equation and angrily muttered 'finish'.
As if the paper had been purposely hiding the solution waiting for Nyah to ask, the answered popped on the paper. More confused than ever, Nyah looked down at her test sheet. It was there, the answer … the explanation … everything. Nyah glanced around the room. Did anyone else see that?
A strange, familiar, tingling, tugging sensation was taking over Nyah … as if a magical part of her mind had been asleep and was starting to wake up, just like she felt during her dreams. That was silly, Nyah told herself; there's no such thing as magic.
