'I fear rivers overflowing.

I hear the voice of rage and ruin.'

Mourning Ritual

Bad Moon Rising (Cover)

.

"So," Uncle Charlie hung up the phone and turned back to Olivia and me at the dining room table. "Good news is, the company still had the records from when they installed these windows, meaning they have all the sizes already. Bad news is that these panes are so big they have to have it ordered. They can't get here till Wednesday."

"Wednesday?" Olivia sighed. "I'll call John and let him know I can't get to Seattle to start work till later."

"It's just a window, Liv," Charlie grumbled. "Go to Seattle. I'll take care of it, let them in to do the repairs."

"That would honestly be great," Olivia smiled thankfully. "Thank you, Charlie."

"You really have no idea how it happened?" he asked me, for the third time.

I shook my head and blinked at the window. "I was just standing there talking to Aly on the phone and I heard this shattering sound behind me."

"What were you two talking about?" Olivia asked me, her voice deep and her staring wide eyes intense. I looked at her, thinking of an answer, but Charlie snorted and took the question.

"I'm pretty sure the topic of conversation had nothing to do with a window cracking," he chuckled, observing the glass some more. With the setting sun, it would have been a pretty light show if I wasn't so terrified. "Besides, the guy said that tempered glass can do that sometimes. If there was a flaw in the glass, the smallest strain can cause the whole thing to pop and break. You're lucky it didn't fall apart. I'll grab the plywood and get it hammered up for now. That way, if the glass decides to go, it's not in the house. I'll be right back."

"Need any help?" Olivia asked over her shoulder.

"Nah, I got it."

Olivia nodded, and turned back to me. The way she was watching me was making me want to crawl under the covers of my bed.

"Are you okay?"

I blinked, not expecting her to ask that for some reason. I thought she was mad. She seemed mad when she first came home and called Charlie over.

"I'm okay," I lied.

"I just," she bit her bottom lip, not something she did often. "I just know you've been through a lot lately."

My eyes fluttered down to the table. I didn't want to hide things from Olivia, but I didn't know how to talk about the crazy stuff with her either. She was always so logical that I was afraid of being shipped off to a hospital far, far away.

"Hey," she said softly, drawing my eyes back to her. Olivia smiled lightly, trying to bring a little positive energy to the situation. "How about I draw you a bath? I think it's time to test some of those fancy bath salts we got over a year ago. What do you say?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"Great," she nodded. "Will you help Charlie? Just hold up the board while he gets it put into place?"

I nodded again as Olivia walked away and Charlie came through with the plywood. He only needed me to hold it while he got the first two nails in place before he stopped, hugged me, and told me to go relax. Great. Even Charlie could pick up on my weirdness.

Or maybe he knew Bella was with Jacob while I wasn't and he felt bad.

Once in my bedroom, I could hear the sound of the running water along with that of the hammering. My head throbbed. I closed my blinds and curtains on the windows, not wanting to see the outside world. I wanted darkness to cure the building migraine. After changing and tying my robe, I walked into the bathroom.

Water dripped from Olivia's hand as she lifted it from under the faucet, checking the temperature. "Almost ready!"

"Thanks, Aunt Liv. I really appreciate it," I scratched my forehead. "I wish I could…get out of this funk."

"You will," she promised as she threw in a scoop of the salts that had all sorts of fancy dried flower petals in them. It smelled like lavender. "The best start is to relax with a nice bath and get a good night sleep. What should we have for dinner? I could take out a frozen lasagna?"

"Sure," I nodded. "Is Charlie staying?" I stood near the glass door of the shower and glanced at the bath stool next to me. There were two small, brown vials filled with a thick liquid. I furrowed my brow as I picked them up.

"I don't know, I'm sure he wouldn't hate the idea of hanging with us. He said Bella was out." She was mixing up the water again and not looking at me. "Maybe we could watch a movie?"

"What's blue vervain?" I asked, reading the scrolling cursive of one of the bottles. My fingers twisted the cap as Olivia looked at me and turned off the water.

"Oh," she paused before drying her hands on her pants and turning around to grab the other one from me. "It's an herbal extract. It's supposed to be relaxing or whatever," Olivia shrugged nonchalantly.

"It doesn't even have a smell," my nose wrinkled.

"It's not supposed to," Olivia rattled while taking back the vervain. "Anyway, I better go check on Charlie and get dinner started."

"Well, wait," I stopped her, curiously pointing at the other vial. "What's that one?"

"Hm? Oh, just another herbal thing."

"What's it called?"

Olivia blinked and swallowed. "Belladonna?"

"Belladonna," I snorted, starting to feel a little better while talking about nonsense that Olivia didn't even buy into. "Since when were you into 'holistic medicines'? Where did you get it?"

"Um, it was my mom's actually. She swore by it so I thought, why have it if we aren't going to use it, you know?"

"Grandma Kathy? Do you have a lot of her stuff?" It was weird having grown up with people who had two sets of grandparents. My maternal grandparents died before I could even form memories of them. Luckily my paternal grandparents lived till I was about nine. I mostly remembered spending time in the garden with Grandma Kathy.

"I kept the important stuff," Olivia said softly. "I'll show you someday, perhaps."

With that, she left me to my bath of salts and flowers and mysterious extracts that may or may not have been effective. As I sunk into the water, the feel and smell comforted me enough to make me forget all the terror that had previously been in my head. They all just… washed away.

I would live off that fake feeling of euphoria for days.

…

On Wednesday morning Olivia had left for Seattle, and I was forced into the same house as Bella just as my calm aura was fading. I couldn't exactly wrap my head around how the last few days had felt so normal, but I didn't question it. More than anything, I wanted that feeling again. Perhaps it was just more PTSD.

When I arrived with my bags and dropped them in my room, Bella emerged to say hi, her hands nervously sliding into her back pockets.

"How are you?" Bella asked as though she was walking on broken glass. Ha.

My duffle hit the floor with a heavy thunk. "Just dandy. Super. I'd ask how you are, but I already know you're doing perfectly fine since you're hanging out with Jacob again."

"Oh," her face was shocked for only a moment. "Yeah, um, I'm –"

"Didn't feel like cluing me in, I take it." I drew my lips tight together as I bobbed my head. "It's good to know that nothings changed in a week and a half. Isabella Swan, Queen of Secrets."

"It's not like that," she tried to defend gently. "It's really complicated. You shouldn't get involved if you don't have to."

"So, let me get this straight. You can get involved, but I can't?" I laughed. "That's fair I suppose. I've only been going insane over here coming up with explanations that are impossible."

"W-what do you think is going on?" Bella bated unsteadily.

"No," I scoffed. "I'm not telling you my crazy conspiracies when you know the truth and could just save me the humiliation."

"It's not mine to tell," she shook her head.

"Even if Jake wanted me to know?"

Bella watched me, her eyes momentarily filling with anger that she quickly overcame. "Jacob shouldn't have said anything to you. It wasn't his place, either."

I rolled my eyes and turned around to open my backpack and take out my sketchpad and notebook. With my back to her, I ended the conversation. "I guess we are at a stale mate, then. Back to square one."

We wouldn't speak again for the rest of the day and the next unless around Charlie, as to not raise suspicion.

…

"He – he what?" I heard Charlie say on the phone on Thursday at about three o'clock in the afternoon. I was coming down the stairs and he was in the kitchen. Heavy scraping came from one of the chairs as he shifted quickly and sat down while I peeked around the corner. Charlie's hand held his forehead. "Oh, no. Yeah, I'll be right there… Sure, I can pick you up on the way through. I'll see you soon, Billy."

Charlie hung up and cradled his head, looking defeated. One hand quickly came crashing down in a hammer fist on the table.

"Uncle Charlie?" I stared in shock.

When he looked up, he was crying. "Valerie, I'm sorry."

"What happened?" I rushed forward.

"It's Harry, he – he had a heart attack." Charlie swallowed, his chin quivering. "He's gone," he said in disbelief.

I closed the distance and enveloped my uncle in a hug. There were no words between us for a long time until he started to stand.

"I have to, uh," his voice was raw, "I need to go help out. Sue's a mess, so."

"I can come with you," I offered.

"No, you shouldn't be subjected to this. Funeral planning isn't… Just stay here, okay? You'll be alright by yourself, won't you?"

I nodded, not sure if it was true, but I didn't want to intrude on a sensitive situation. He left without another question. I thought about all the times I had spoken to Harry, the kind, huggable, gentle giant. I thought of the way he looked at me when Bella and I returned from the woods.

I would never know what he was thinking.

…

Loneliness, boredom, and utter paranoia had set itself deep inside my being. The calm feeling from earlier in the week was gone entirely. Charlie was helping the Clearwater's while Bella was 'out'. I knew what that meant. I wondered if she even knew about Harry. Being stuck alone at Charlie's house only gave me all the more time to think about everything that had been going on lately. Two of the problems in my head I could try and pretend didn't exist. I still couldn't bring myself to think or say the words. It was the reason I hadn't called Jacob yet. I was afraid he would react the same way Aly did because it was so insane. But the other issue was taking over like a flood.

There was something wrong with me. The moving pencil, the exploding lockers, shattering windows, electrocutions and house blackouts, wishing pain on people and having it come true… Explaining any of it couldn't be done logically, and it wasn't a series of bizarre coincidences. Something was happening to me. Half of me wished it was just a ghost who decided to follow me around causing chaos. The other half of me was afraid that in a town, apparently full of inhuman things, ghosts wouldn't be all that farfetched.

My fingers traced over the old stitching on the arm of the chair in Charlie's dimly lit living room as I scrunched myself even tighter on it, afraid to let a single toe hang over he edge. As I sat in silence, that feeling of fear was building up more inside me, the one that made me feel like I was spinning. Having someone to talk to about this was an impossible dream. I found myself wishing my mom was there. She would tell me it would all be okay in a way that I would actually believe her.

A smile snuck onto my lips as I thought of her.

A tug crept into my heart and snapped the smile away instantaneously.

That damned trunk in the attic was in my mind again, spontaneously popping in, uninvited. It was like a beacon that I couldn't ignore, calling to me, screaming for me to go to it just like the last time. Before I knew it, I had made my way up the stairs, up the ladder, and into the attic where I stood before the old trunk. I stared down at it, hesitantly kneeling on the wooden floor boards and reaching out with a shaky hand. My fingertips settled on the top of the flat trunk, tracing the lines of where the slats met the intricate metalwork. As I grazed along the dusty edges a strange sense of calm washed over me. All the other times I had looked at the family heirloom, I was left frustrated. This time was different and I didn't know why. I was determined. I dropped my gaze to the lock plate without a key that would never open, yanked up my phone, and pulled up a tutorial of lockpicking. Of course. This would work.

30 minutes later, I slammed the flathead screwdriver onto the floorboards and groaned loudly.

"I'm doing everything right! I know I am." I shouted at the chest. "Why?"

My chest heaved with a deep and steadying sigh. I placed my hand on the trunk and lowered my forehead to it's edge, breathing slowly and drawing in the old smell.

"Why won't you open? Please," I pleaded in a whisper to the lock, like we were old friends sharing secrets. "Please just open for me. I need to know."

The clicking of the lock falling open sent me jolting backwards, startled.

I fell backwards, the dusty boards beneath my hands being an anchor to reality. Swallowing roughly, I stared at the lock plate that had never once budged during any attempt. Now, it was just open, waiting for me to take the next step but I was frozen. I watched the trunk in the shadows of where the light didn't fully reach as the silence hanging in the air grew thick and deafening.

After all this time wanting to know, now I'm chickening out?

No. I had to know.

The floor creaked below me as I shifted on my knees back to the trunk. My breathing felt shallow as I reached for the latches, flipping them open with a satisfying click. With both hands grasping the top corners firmly, I pushed up.

An aroma of dried herbs, old books, and leather wafted up at me in a wave as the open top revealed a tray full of miscellaneous items. Everything was tucked neatly below the vintage brown leather jacket that I unfolded and slid on. It was nice. I liked it. I breathed into the collar, which must have been the source of the herby smell. It was something woody, floral, and sweet. Like lemongrass and jasmine. Like Mom. I focused back on the other contents. There were a few loose papers that looked like old order forms and newspaper clippings. I picked up the small pile and looked closer at the top slips. They were birth announcements of Sawyer, Bella, and myself, paperclipped to marriage announcements.

'Amy Swan, daughter of Geoffrey and Helen Swan, and Richard Owens, son of Vincent and Kathy Owens, were married on June 26th on the banks of the Hoh River just south of Forks, Washington.'

My fingertips brushed lightly over the image of my mother and father standing, gazing at each other in their wedding apparel. Mom's perfectly soft curls cascaded down her back, forever frozen in midst of a light breeze. Her dress was an elegant off-the-shoulder cuffed gown of lace that trained down over the rocks of the river bank. She was beautiful. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I wondered where that dress was. The box had been with us during the move, but for the life of me I couldn't remember which closet it was stashed in. Suddenly I felt guilty for that.

I moved on to glance at the next announcement from two years after Mom and Dad's. I chuckled at Charlie in the image beside Bella's mom, Renee. He looked so unlike himself. His lip was bald.

'Renee Higginbotham, daughter of Marie Higginbotham, and Charles Swan, son of Geoffrey and Helen Swan, were married on August 4th at Forks Congressional Church before their friends and family.'

Placing the pictures on the floor next to me, I took out the next item, which was a photo album chalked full of the entire family. From the point of Charlie and Mom as babies, up to the next generation of infants. The book was almost perfectly organized, every page filled. A ping of sadness seeped in. Grandpa was gone before I was born, and I didn't remember Gran because I was too little.

I put the items back into the tray, along with an old knit baby sock, white lace-trimmed handkerchief, and long ribbons. My fingers slid into the tray handles to lift it out of the trunk. As I shook my head and smiled, I felt the tension leave my shoulders. Whatever I had been expecting, it was silly. These were memories and nothing more. I didn't need to have that feeling of paranoia and panic nesting in my stomach any longer. Maybe everything was fine, just a coincidence.

I froze. The tray was still in my grasp which grew tighter as I stared down. My smile faded and my heartbeat pounded in my ears along with an incessant ringing of silence.