The Raven's Conjuring: Dreams of Desolation, page 13
part #1 of The Raven's Conjuring Series
“Would you like dessert?” Victor changed the subject as he noticed Antonio coming back towards the table to pick up the empty plates.
“Absolutely not. I’m stuffed,” she said.
After Victor settled the check, they took a moment to appreciate the view once again. Standing close to the edge of the building, they admired the city lights and the calmness of the night. Victor placed his arm around Morgan’s shoulders as she shivered. It wasn’t the breeze or the brisk weather—it was the height. Morgan suddenly wondered what it would feel like to fall from hundreds of feet in the air. To free fall at two hundred miles an hour before realizing there was no parachute or safety net to save her. To jump, thinking one could fly—realizing a second too late, her wings had been clipped.
They stood in each other’s arms, silent beneath the moonlight, as they both grew comfortable with the inevitable awkward silence of relationships. Morgan always believed blind faith was an unrealistic way to lead life, but this moment ripped away her inhibitions, and she threw caution to the wind for the sake of igniting something that she hoped would last. She turned to face Victor and put her arms around the back of his neck as his hands met around her waist. Staring into his forest-like green eyes, Morgan had never been more confident in her choice.
“I want you to be mine,” she whispered.
Victor smiled, licked his lips, and agreed.
“As the night is my witness, I want to be yours too,” he whispered the words into her ear.
The abiding breeze carried his proclamation towards the realm of eternity while their lips met by natural instinct. As they shared their first kiss atop the world, Morgan felt another surge of energy within her. In the back of her mind, she knew this decision would change the course of both their lives, and there was no turning back. Perhaps it was the wine, the altitude, or the fact that they were both lonely—but they couldn’t help giving in to each other’s desires. It didn’t make sense to either of them. It could have been the bond they shared by being sheltered from a young age, or perhaps it was an episode of madness for two. A shared delusion where nothing else mattered.
He was hers—she was his.
CHAPTER NINE
The Puppeteer
T wo months passed since Morgan met Victor, and they vowed to belong to each other. Two months of more people looking at Morgan through a skewed vision, made up by false rumors of her episodes. At least during that time, Morgan had not experienced a single sleepwalking incident. She worked three nights a week at the bookstore and managed to meet Victor for lunch between classes. They went out for coffee regularly at Le Cafe’ Noir and rode his motorcycle around the coast in the evenings. She had become somewhat obsessed with riding the bike, so Victor decided to teach her how to ride on her own, proving to be more of a challenge than she thought it would be. After a few lessons at Elm St. Cemetery, which was always empty, Morgan became more comfortable commanding it—at the expense of a few minor scuffs on the paint job.
When given challenging assignments for class, they helped each other complete them, and the more time they spent together, the deeper they fell into the pit of love. Morgan possessed everything Victor lacked, a fresh perspective on life and strong will and determination. He possessed all the qualities she wanted a man to have. He had a great sense of humor, treated others with kindness, and was chivalrous. He also paid for everything—not that Morgan couldn’t afford her own dinners, but she enjoyed being treated well. Their adventures together also served as an escape, making Morgan’s episodes less severe.
Everything was perfect in Morgan’s eyes, but the more time she spent with Victor, the less time she spent with Chelsea. As another Friday evening approached, Morgan sat in her dorm room, getting ready for another night at Yellowed Pages. Her second favorite place to be—her first was on the back of Victor’s bike.
Chelsea walked into the dorm room and was happy Morgan was there but realized she was just getting ready to leave.
“Where is Victor taking you tonight?” Chelsea asked.
“I’m not seeing him tonight. I have to work.” Morgan answered.
“You’ve been with him every night this week, I just figured...” Chelsea sighed.
“I haven’t been with him every night. Have I?” Morgan asked herself.
“Yes, you have. Monday, he took you shopping, Tuesday was dinner and a movie, on Wednesday you took a couple’s painting class. Thursday, you rode with him all over the coast and watched the waves crash under the moonlight.” Chelsea mocked Morgan.
“Ok, maybe I have been seeing Victor a lot.”
Chelsea didn’t want to get in the way of Morgan’s happiness. She of all people knew the nightmares Morgan struggled with, but she had to voice her opinion, even if it was against her best judgment.
“Morgan, I know he’s gorgeous and undeniably enticing, but don’t you think you’re moving just a bit too fast?” Chelsea asked, staring at Morgan through the reflection in her makeup mirror.
“No, Chelsea. I think we’re doing just fine.”
“I just think maybe you should have taken things a bit slower, before deciding to become his girlfriend on the first date.” Chelsea sighed.
“You don’t know what we felt for each other. I know you don’t believe in love at first sight, but that’s what it was. The second I saw Victor in the coffee shop, something about him captured me and refused to let go. His face, his smile, it’s what I needed that day. It’s as if we had known each other for a lifetime, and we both felt the same way. Don’t you believe in destiny?” Morgan asked as she stood up and changed into her work attire, jeans, and a long sleeve blouse.
“I do believe in that. It’s just, well…” Chelsea stopped midsentence, thinking of how to share her feelings without hurting Morgan’s.
“What is it then, Chelsea?” Morgan said as she zipped up her jeans.
“Ever since we got here, it seems like you don’t want anything to do with me. You got a job and a boyfriend and hadn’t even been here a week. Besides, every night we’ve agreed to hang out, you keep ditching me to hang out with him. I don’t know anyone else here, and everyone that I meet just keeps asking me what it’s like to be your roommate,” Chelsea said, regretting her choice of words.
“Why, because I’m Morgan, the maniacal, sleepwalking, salad tossing, wheelchair strangler?” Morgan said.
“Well, maybe it has something to do with what happened when we first got here, but no one actually wants to get to know me. Everyone just wants to know about you,” Chelsea said as she cracked her knuckles, something she did whenever she was nervous.
“And what are you telling them?”
“Nothing, Morgan. I haven’t said anything. Look, I’m sorry, I brought it up, I just want to spend some time with you,” Chelsea said, turning away to stop herself from fighting with Morgan.
“You’re right. Things with Victor did progress pretty fast, and I have ditched you a few times. For that, I’m sorry. You know I love you, and nothing or anyone can come between our friendship. I guess the first few days here were really tough for me, but have you noticed that I haven’t been sleepwalking in the last few weeks? It only happens when I’m stressed out, and well, ever since I met Victor, things have been better for me. I feel happier. I fall asleep thinking about him, which may have something to do with me not having any episodes lately. Can’t you just be happy for me?” Morgan asked.
“I am happy for you,” Chelsea said, although she didn’t quite believe it herself.
“When you first met John and started dating him, I let you have your fun. I didn’t make you feel like I was left out, even though you ditched me at my last birthday party and forgot to show up to one of my most important debates because you were hanging out with John. And even though you ditched me, I let it slide. We’re only human—we’re allowed to evolve,” Morgan said.
“You’re right,” Chelsea admitted.
“Why don’t you come to the bookstore later? I get off at eight. We can hang out downtown just the two of us. Without Victor,” Morgan said, realizing she had been continuously brushing off how Chelsea felt.
“I don’t know. There’s this guy I’m supposed to hang out with later… I’m kidding,” Chelsea teased.
“You better be,” Morgan said, smiling.
She hugged Chelsea, grabbed her purse, cell phone, and keys, and headed out the door.
Chelsea felt like an afterthought ever since Morgan met Victor. Since Morgan was the first friend she made, she felt a sense of responsibility and loyalty to her. Chelsea didn’t want to take on her mother’s role—she just wanted to be her best friend, but she feared that Victor would make them grow apart somewhat. When she thought about John, she realized she had done so many of the same things Morgan had when she met Victor. As a new relationship begins, people tend to throw themselves into it, without thinking of consequences or how it may affect others.
Chelsea decided to try and forget about her troubles with Morgan. After all, it wasn’t the first time they had fought and would not be the last. She stood up and looked out the window, as the September sun covered the campus in its fading warmth. It wouldn’t be long before the oak and maple trees shed their greenery. Eventually, the sun would hide behind gray clouds as it prepared for the forthcoming snowstorms and solitude winter brought each year. Chelsea cleaned a greasy smudge on her glasses with her blouse, looked in the mirror, and smiled. She walked out of the dorm room and waited for the elevator. When she got downstairs, she overheard the other girls talking about a party taking place in a vacant warehouse, off campus. She didn’t care much for parties, as she had never been invited to one—other than Morgan’s birthdays.
Morgan arrived downtown twenty minutes before her shift was to start and she wanted to stop by Le Cafe’ Noir to get her caffeine fix for the night, but the place was packed. Every time she walked in, Victor would prepare her coffee without her having to wait, but she didn’t want to cause him any trouble, since he seemed flustered and focused on getting all the customers taken care of.
Instead, Morgan decided to walk across the street into the convenience store and pour herself a large cup of lukewarm coffee—three creams and two sugars. After paying the clerk, she stepped outside and waited for the traffic light to change. Staring at the lamp post filled with fliers for events like the carnival taking place throughout the weekend, stores advertising sales, and political propaganda, she saw a new laminated notice from Whispering Pines Police. On the flyer was the face of a boy with bright blue eyes and short blonde hair. It looked like a school photograph which read the following, “Missing, Billy Thompson. Age: 7 — Last seen leaving Whispering Pines Elementary.”
Billy had only been missing for two days, and Morgan remembered the missing boys the rideshare driver, Michael told her about. “In the last five years, ten boys have gone missing.”
This made Billy Thompson the eleventh. Morgan used her phone to take a picture of the flyer, and uploaded it to her social media accounts, in case anyone else saw the boy. As she put her phone back in her purse, it rang, and a huge smile came across her face—it was James.
“Daddy,” she answered as she crossed the street.
“Hey, cupcake. It’s been a while since we chatted. You busy?” James asked.
“I’m just on my way to work, but I have some time still. I miss you,” she said as she walked towards the park.
“I miss you too, how is everything?”
Morgan made sure the homeless woman wasn’t around before she sat down on the bench by the playground.
“School’s good, it’s tough—but Chelsea and I are hanging in there, and I love my job. I get free books whenever customers return them, so that’s a plus,” she said, glancing down at her watch.
“I’m happy to hear that. You been having any trouble sleeping?” James asked.
“Nope, not since the last time at home.”
Morgan had never told him about the incident with Nicole.
“I’m delighted to hear that. What else is new?” James asked.
As close as they were, Morgan hesitated to tell her father about Victor. She fought the urge, but her newfound happiness exploded.
“I’ve met someone. We’re dating,” Morgan said.
“Ok, and how is he treating you? What’s his name, tell me everything,” James sounded happy.
“His name is Victor, he goes to school with me, he’s a junior, works as a barista, and he’s treating me very well. He’s polite, athletic and I think you would like him.” Morgan hoped.
“I’m sure if you like him, I would too. Just don’t let a relationship deter you from school. And I hope you’re both being safe.” James cleared his throat.
“Well, we’re not safe, because we haven’t done anything to be safe about yet. He’s not pressuring me into anything. If the time comes for us to be intimate, I promise we’ll be safe,” she said.
Morgan had no shame of talking to her dad about her relationships. They were both very open with each other, and she trusted no one more than her father.
“How’s Sawyer and mom?” Morgan changed the subject.
“Sawyer misses you, for sure. He sits by your bedroom door every night, so I take him on his long walks the way you used to. Mom is doing great. She’s landed another huge case with the state, so she’s never here. I’ve been cooking a lot of meals for one lately,” he said, remembering all the times he and Morgan cooked together.
“At least you can cook for yourself. I miss having a kitchen. Dorm food is trash.”
“That is one of the downsides of college, no home-cooked meals,” James said.
“That’s putting it lightly,” she said as they shared a laugh.
Morgan was comforted to hear his voice. She could have spent three hours on the phone with him and still have felt like the time they had wasn’t enough.
“Well, I have to get going. Work calls. Give my love to Sawyer and mom,” Morgan said, glancing down at her watch.
“Will do. Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too, dad.” Morgan hung up.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed her dad until she heard his voice again. She wanted to tell him so much more, like everything that happened with Nicole and Karen. But she knew the more she told him, the more he would worry, and that was the last thing she wanted. She just hoped to make her father proud and she wished she could snap her fingers and fast forward through the next four years, to the graduation ceremony to see his face and hug him. The time would come in a blink of an eye, but now, she could enjoy her newfound freedom. As she walked by Le Café Noir again, she stopped in the window and caught Victor’s attention. His face lit up with a smile, she waved and blew a kiss. He blew one back.
Morgan trudged towards the bookstore and hoped it would be an easy night without many customers. She was looking forward to spending the night out with Chelsea and wanted the shift to end the moment it started.
“Morgan, thank god you’re here.” Arthur greeted her the second she walked into the bookstore.
“Hi, Arthur,” she said, walking behind the counter to store her purse in the cubby hole.
“I hate to leave you alone for the night, because there’s a new shipment waiting to be put away, and a bunch of signage to hang, but I have an emergency,” he said, grabbing his hat and keys.
“Is everything ok?” she asked.
“It’s my mother. The nurse called, she’s had a seizure, and they’re on the way to the hospital. Hopefully, it’s nothing major.”
“Yeah, hopefully not,” Morgan said.
“Oh, Morgan. Don’t forget to set the alarm when you leave. It wasn’t set when I came in this morning,” Arthur said, bolting out the door.
“I didn’t work last night,” Morgan said in vain, as he exited.
Morgan clipped her name tag to her shirt and did as she was instructed during her shift. The new books were works from authors she had never heard of before. She organized them and input the data into the system, took care of the sale signs, dusted the shelves, and organized the window displays. Much to her pleasure, not many people came into the bookstore on Friday nights, other than the regulars. There was Kevin, a fifty-seven-year-old who came in every Friday and picked up Newsweek magazine. Carolyn, the woman with hair down to her knees, who never bought anything—Morgan wondered if the woman could even read. And there was always a group of teenage girls that came by, which she watched closer than the rest, fearing that they would shoplift.
Morgan would always finish her duties about three hours into the shift. She spent the rest of her time reading or catching up with her cousin’s life on social media. As she opened Sage’s feed, she saw an old picture with the caption, “Really miss being a kid right now.”
The photo was taken the night of Morgan’s eighth birthday, showing Morgan, Chelsea, Sage and Katrina with cake icing, and crumbs smeared all over their faces. Morgan smiled, thinking about that night—dead dog aside, she missed being a kid and missed her cousins. There was never a dull moment when Sage was around. She would think of the most random things to entertain herself and others. She loved arts and crafts and always made cute gifts for Morgan. Then there was Katrina, the black sheep in the bunch. She had been a terrible cousin and friend to everyone. Morgan never understood why, throughout most of their young lives, Katrina bullied her up until the day she disappeared.
When Morgan was twelve, she walked in on her mother and her aunt Heather arguing. She stayed out of the room but stood close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Heather, I understand your dilemma. Trust me, I do. It’s just that, well—it’s a lot of money you’re asking for, and we’ve already given you so much,” Terry said.
“Sure, keep throwing that in my face. I never asked you for a dime. You willfully deposited money into my account every month. This is the first time I’m groveling at your feet. Don’t you get it, Terry? This could be our only hope,” Heather said.
