The Rose Witch - Chandelle LaVaun Page 0,2

those tears didn’t count. Those were runaways, the prequels, the warning signs of the storm coming.

By the time the red wooden door to the shop came into view, my vision was warped and my legs were shaking. My nose was already clogged, so my throat was aching and growing tight from the cold air I was gasping in. I reached into my handbag and grabbed my keys as I sprinted to the door.

I felt like I was being torn in two. Like the world was closing in around me, weight crashing on my shoulders while needing to scream until I had no voice. Like an anchor was tied to my feet and dragging me to the bottom of the Thames. Like a volcano about to erupt. I was shooting into the sky while plummeting to the ground. It was a raging storm growing inside of me, a roaring tide rising, and rising, and rising until my face was pressed against a cement wall gasping for the last of the air around me. I was drowning, suffocating, yet any moment I was going to explode.

I shoved the antique gold key toward the lock but my fingers were trembling too hard and the metal tip slid off to the side. I cursed and gasped as I tried again. And again. Every time the key scratched across the lock but missed the hole.

“Come ON,” I groaned through clenched teeth and stomped my foot.

Finally, the key slid into the groove and I turned it. The sound of the lock clicking open was a sweet relief. Sometimes the stupid thing got stuck, so I threw my shoulder into the door to force it open but gravity took over and my shaky legs were no match for physics. I tumbled through the foyer, crashing into the opposite wall and bouncing off only to slam my hip into the tower of new releases just inside the store.

The volcano erupted inside of me and a wild, heavy sob ripped up my throat. Tears burst from eyes and poured down my cheeks as the tower of books toppled over. I threw my hands out to catch them but it was too late. The books crashed onto the ancient hardwood floor, flipping open or upside down. I cursed and reached for them but a wave of dizziness washed over me and I staggered to the side. My shoulder hit a shelf and three rows of books rained down. I winced and hissed as hard-edged spines knocked me in the head and shoulder.

“Damn it,” I cried out and sagged against the wall, letting the tears pour.

My legs wobbled and my fingers trembled. Every nerve ending in my body was tingling with little shocking pulses, like I’d been electrocuted. A glowing red light shined in from the front windows. I had no idea where it was coming from but it lit everything around me in a deep red tint. The lights, Chloe, the lights! I stumbled to my right and threw my hand out toward the light switch when something flashed in front of me.

I looked down – and choked on a gasp.

Bright golden light was pouring out of every open book on the ground like someone had lit a spotlight from inside of them. And then the light moved. It swirled and shifted and then formed into…into…people. Golden holographic people leapt from within the pages of the books, their transparent feet standing on the spines. A strange scream-gasp ripped free from my mouth and I staggered back, slamming into the wall again. My eyes widened. My heart stopped.

Each of the open books were shining with life right in front of me. One had a tall glowing man with wings and a bald head that held two tacos in each of his hands. A one-eyed black cat sat atop another, eating from a box of chicken nuggets beside him. I glanced left and right, then right to left. Pictures leapt from the pages in front of me – a wild eyed guy holding a trident, a tall skinny boy with the Mark of Cain on his forehead, and what looked like Medusa texting on an iPhone.

What? What – what’s – I don’t – no, I’m going crazy.

I turned to run and screamed. Two men towered like two feet over me. One had black wraparound sunglasses on and long black hair that fell from a widow’s peak. The other had diamond-like eyes, a goatee, and a strange tattoo on half of his face.