Mel stared hard at her reflection in the wooden framed mirror and tried to imagine a time she liked what looked back at her. If she was talking to anyone else, she would say she liked the way she had turned out. When forcing her to be brutally honest to herself, Mel could not say. Not since she was a babe in arms, before she cared what she looked like- three or four at the most. That was when her step- mum moved into her life and began to make her feel queer. Before then, Mel had liked her violet eyes- if anything she had been rather proud of them, she was the only person she knew with that coloured eyes. Her step mum hated them; she said they were as strange as the child that possessed them. Mel could only thank god that the woman was out of her life now, the witch and her father had divorced some years ago now. The damage had been done however; she hated the one thing about her that she had always loved.
The same went for her hair. Naturally, Mel had white blonde hair, straight and fine as snow. Over the years, she had chopped and changed it until she could barely remember the true colour. Now it rested just above her shoulders when loose, when tied up it went to half way down her neck and all of it was dyed dark purple. She kept her fringe long though and that curved over her eyebrows and narrowly missed covering her right eye before going down the sides of her face. Now, possibly, the only thing she truly liked about herself was the silver nose ring that went through her septum and glinted in the light. Her dad called it her bullring which made her feel a little worried about her appearance with it but she was working hard on convincing herself that he did not mean it, he was just having a joke.
The thing about Mel's dad was he had cancer in his brain. The more ill he got, the worse the cancer got, the more brain it ate away. He had no filter between brain and mouth, he was violent, angry and rude, often saying hurtful things and laughing repeatedly. That was why Mel lived with her Aunt Clara; her dad was in hospital where he would stay until he died. Mel knew that this was a dark thought pattern but the truth could not be got around, her dad was terminal and one day he would die. She had to accept that fact and move on. It was still sad to think though that first, her mother died and now her father was slipping away as well. She supposed she was lucky, some children did not even know that they were going to be orphans until the day death claimed their parents suddenly as his own brethren. At least Mel had time to get used to the idea.
As one hand reached to turn on her radio, Mel swiped her hand over one of the thick white candles on her dressing table. The candle wick flickered and lit, a shivering light in the dark room lit with no match or lighter. Her radio jumped to life at the same time, the small screen lighting up blue as it came to life, a rock song halfway through played into the otherwise silent room. She flicked off the main light and then cast her hand about in the air, flexing her will and lighting the rest of her candles that were scattered about the room. A fast paced thrash metal song started playing on her radio and Mel fiddled with the dials for a moment until a haunting melody took its place, churning out into the room and soothing her. She fixed her outfit once more and then sat on the wooden floor in the centre of her room. Around her was clean except for a white circle that was chalked onto the floorboards surrounding her with a pentagram drawn in the centre, the five points hitting the circumference of the circle. She sat directly in the centre of it and lifted her hand, as she flexed her will a yellow candle flickered to light.
"In the name of Nyx, by the power of Air, I call upon the dead." Mel chanted into the room with her eyes closed. The smell of a spring breeze danced in her nostrils, she inhaled happily before raising her hand and flexing her will. This time the wick of a green candle danced to life. "In the name of Nyx, by the power of Earth, I call upon the dead." She chanted and the sensation of grass appeared under her bare thighs and feet. She scrunched her toes contentedly before continuing. "In the name of Nyx, by the power of Water, I call upon the dead." She recited and cool water rolled across her tongue as a blue candle lit itself at her will. "In the name of Nyx, by the power of Fire, I call upon the dead." Mel intoned and as a red candle burst to life fires crackled in her ears, loud at first and then relaxing into background noise. "In the name of Nyx, by the power of Spirit, I call upon the dead." For a final time, a candle lit itself at her signal and this time the candle was as purple as Mel's eyes. A sensation rushed through her body, earth, air, fire and water mingling and leaping with joy within her at the unlikely union. She opened her eyes and found herself facing a tall man with dark hair and pale blue eyes. His name was a mystery to her, he would never answer her when she asked, but he was her spirit guide and he helped her to communicate with the other side.
"They're coming and they are coming soon. They will take you away." He did not wait for her to greet him, he never did. This spirit guide was not like the stories; he was blunt and business like. He said what he needed, protected her and helped her communicate with the other side but that was all. He was not her friend, he was her guide and a guide is strictly business.
"Who are they?" She asked but he shook his head.
"You do not know, you just need to be prepared. Pack your bags, they will be here within the week. They thought it was over, they thought they had found you all. They had not found you, now they have. Do not fight it, let them take you. You will be safe, be prepared." He instructed and she nodded, accepting that she would get no more information from him on the matter.
"Onto business," she navigated the conversation and he nodded as they talked their way through the familiar routine. Her guide summoned a dead person who needed assistance and Mel scrawled the facts down on a black notepad. She would later research the facts and finish off any business. Her spirit guide was good at what he did and brilliant at filter and choosing her clientele, she had yet to meet a time waster, a helpless or a revenge seeker. After three hours, she tired of scrawling names and facts down on the notepad and closed the circle as efficiently as she had opened it.
"In the name of Nyx, by the power of Spirit, I close this circle." The purple candle went out and with it her spirit guide. "In the name of Nyx, by the power of Fire, I close this circle." Out went the red candle. "In the name of Nyx, by the power of Water, I close this circle." Goodbye blue candle. "In the name of Nyx, by the power of Earth, I close this circle. In the name of Nyx, by the power of Air, I close this circle." With her final words, the green and yellow candles spluttered out of life in quick succession. Mel pushed herself up out of the pentagram and reclined back on her bed instead. The room was still dark, the remaining candles casting long shapes up the wall which she watched as they danced and wavered.
The music still pulsed from her stereo, the gothic wailing that helped soothe her still pouring out in haunting strains and melancholy lyrics. There was a knock on her door and then a crack of light spilled out from the hall into her bedroom. A dark shape, looming and hulking stood in her doorway and then made their way in before asking consent first. They closed the door behind themselves and it swung quietly back before the latch fell gently back into place. Jerome Knight crept across the floorboards, swift but silent as a cat before lying down alongside her on her bed. His large mass took up half the bed easily but she did not mind as she moved to accommodate him.
When Mel was thirteen, she started renting out her services of communication to the dead for some spare change. One of her first customers was a fifteen year old boy who even then Mel had known would one day be her boyfriend, possibly more. Mel was right and within the month they were dating, young Mel's heart had soared at the news like a bird set free of a too small cage finally. Older Mel still felt like the sometimes, she loved Jerome truly and Jerome loved her as well. He was supportive and sometimes even helped her with her circle, using his power to channel her powers better. Now, Jerome pulled her closer and she rested her head on his well-built chest.
"They're coming, by the end of the week. I'll have to leave." Her voice broke through the quiet room. Her words hung heavy in the air before falling down like dust, covering the pair of them and resting on them before disappearing. Jerome did not ask her who 'they' were. Whenever she said things like this, it was a message directly from Him- Mel's spirit guide and if he knew that if she knew anything more, he would tell her. Now, Jerome pulled her closer and she rested her head on his well-built chest.
"They're coming, by the end of the week. I'll have to leave." Her voice broke through the quiet room. Her words hung heavy in the air before falling down like dust, covering the pair of them and resting on them before disappearing. Jerome did not ask her who 'they' were. Whenever she said things like this, it was a message directly from Him- Mel's spirit guide and if he knew that if she knew anything more, he would tell her.
"Then we should probably make the best of our time together." His voice rumbled through his chest and she propped her head up on her elbows.
"What do you mean?" She asked, honestly confused.
"I think you know." He murmured and he put his large hands on her tiny waist, dragging her until she was straddling him. He reached up and kissed her. As their lips locked, she smiled as she got the message. What a brilliant way to spend her time.
"I like this idea." She said with a chuckle as their lips broke apart and he tugged her shirt off over her head.
The week flew by faster than Mel would have liked. Every day, Jerome came over and they relaxed having 'fun' several more times before Saturday. When she had told her Aunt Clara that she had to go away, she had begun to cry, fretting about how Mel was going to cope after having been out of mainstream education since she was 11- since she first began communicating with the dead and setting fires. Over the course of the week, as she watched Mel pack her things and make her plans, she had come to accept it though. Now the day was there and Mel was beginning to feel nervous but she would not let anyone know.
It had been early in the morning on Saturday, nine o'clock or so, when a black car had pulled up outside her home with black tinted windows. The driver had introduced himself as Mr Chambers and had been surprised to see Mel's suitcase in the hall already. It had been a short affair, Clara signing her over without much thought and them all signing the official secrets act. Now, Jerome and Mel hugged for a last time as Chambers handed Clara a leaflet. The front displayed a small stone cottage with climbing honey suckle on the walls and a glass conservatory. A hot pool was situated outside and green swirling font displayed it to be 'Fenton Lodge.'
"Book a visit as soon as you like, the young man as well." Chambers said and Mel heard Clara sniffle and watched as she nodded her head.
"I'm going to miss you." Jerome murmured into her hair and she tightened her grip around his waist. All week she had been trying to convince herself that she would be okay without him but now that the time came to say goodbye she was not so sure. She did not want to go, no matter what He said was best for her. Mel tilted her head up and stole one last innocent, bittersweet kiss from his lips.
"I love you," she whispered and he nodded, tears in his perfect eyes.
"I love you too." Jerome released her and then the next few moments were a bit of a blur as she was bundled into the back of the car. The door was slammed shut and she stared with wet eyes out of the tinted window to where Jerome stood on the pavement, watery eyed and woeful. Her Aunt Clara was crying noisily, even with the doors shut Mel could hear her crying. Mel rubbed her unshed tears away as Chambers started the car and then they were driving away and Mel was turning to watch them disappear. She slumped down in her seat and put in her headphones sullenly once they turned a bend and Clara and Jerome disappeared from view.
The ride to Fenton Lodge was silent. Mel sat staring straight forwards at the back of the passenger seat. Three matching black cars trailed behind them and one in front, a convoy of identical cars on the lookout for trouble. Chambers did not bother with music, he did not try talking either. They sat in silence.
A few times, Mel caught Chambers glancing at her in the rear view mirror. It was in these moments that Mel knew, he was nervous and waiting for her to snap. She gave him no reason to fear except for once but that was accidental, a nervous tic. She had stopped the fire from dancing from her fingertips as soon as she spotted him watching with a guarded expression and a hand twitching to his side where she had already figured he was holding a gun. Finally though, just as she was starting to get cramp in her legs from sitting still for so long- moving just seemed to make Chambers agitated- they arrived a Fenton Lodge.
To some, it may have looked particularly amazing. A relic of times gone by hidden amongst tall trees and under a sweeping sky. To some, that is. To Mel, whose home was older and- in her eyes- more impressive, this was simply a downgrade. The school just seemed too cramped to be allowed to house as many people as Chambers had said that it did. Her unspoken question of how everyone fit in the tiny building was answered as they pulled up a small pathway alongside the main building and out to a small building that looked like they could fit more people in it. Chambers cut the engine and got out, Mel followed suit and hopped out as well. She collected her suitcase out of the boot of the car and then let herself be led into one of the out buildings.
Inside, the building looked better than from the outside. The walls, concrete on the outside, had been painted cream inside and a cream carpet ran the length of the building. Tall windows on one wall let sunlight tinged with green from the trees filter in and sparkle on floating dust that danced like pixies. On the other wall was a row of doors, each were made of dark wood with a faux gold handle that glinted in the shimmering sunlight. Chambers led her on, past numerous doors. Behind some, Mel could hear pop music playing or animated chatter- whether from films or from people actually talking she could not tell. From behind one, she even heard the clatter of metal on metal. This one, Chambers glanced disapprovingly but said nothing. Finally, at the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door and ushered her into a small clean room. There were four beds inside, three with signs of people using them and one without. On the one without signs of life, Mel dropped her suitcase and looked at Chambers expectantly.
"The girls you share with will be along shortly, after they've finished their development sessions. Make yourself at home." Chambers said flatly and then shut the door. Mel dropped down on her bed and looked around, surveying the room.