The Scrying
Sprache: Englisch
Verlag: AuthorHouse 2010-07-13, 2010
- Softcover
- Neu

Anbieter: Chiron Media, Wallingford, Vereinigtes KönigreichChiron Media
AbeBooks-Verkäufer/-in seit 2. August 2010
Zustand: Neu
EUR 14,68
Anzahl: 10 verfügbar
In den WarenkorbBestandsnummer des Verkäufers 6666-IUK-9781452027487
- Titel
- The Scrying
- Autor
- Joseph R. Valentine
- Verlag
- AuthorHouse 2010-07-13
- Erscheinungsjahr
- 2010
- Zustand
- New
- Einband
- Paperback
- Sprache
- Englisch
- ISBN-10
- 145202748X
- ISBN-13
- 9781452027487
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The Scrying
By Joseph R. ValentineAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 Joseph R. ValentineAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-2748-7
Chapter One
Another day comes, bringing with it sudden memories of the day before. Every day is the same and they just seem to melt together now. It has become hard to tell one from the other. He is waiting for something, but not even he knows for what. The only thing that is certain is that he has been waiting for a long time. Time, no longer recognizable by his mind anymore, weighs down heavily on his heart. Forever was only a word to him before someone gave it meaning. Now, forever was something he held in his heart for the rest of his life. He lies alone in his room, drifting in and out of this world, waiting for something, wanting to go there because he knows that's where it is. He dreams of death, sometimes embracing it. He knows that death is the ultimate release from the pain, but lives in fear of it. Only in his dreams can he stand to face it."Come here," she whispered. The sweet smell of perfume heightened his senses, and he reached to the faceless being, unable to speak her name out loud. She wandered into the back woods, and although his body didn't move, he found himself following her. She drifted in and about the trees, and at a particular area where boulders protruded up through the ground, she moved to and from, then around an open crack, a fracture in the largest stone.
Hayden woke in a miserable state, uncomfortable, saturated in sweat. His pulse was quick, and the stale smell of his unwashed skin, filled his nostrils. He lay still, staring at the ceiling, searching for a coherent thought and tried to catch his breath. "What day is it? Am I still here?" "It must be Monday," his mind taunted. He rolled over to see his clock beaming a red stare right back at him. It made his eyes ache as he squinted: half awake, fumbling for the snooze button.
7:00 am
One more piece of his soul will stray away from his body today, leaving him a little colder to those that once cared for him. Surrender was nothing new for him. In truth, it had become second nature. Time, friends, family, and everything else, had all been sacrificed just to listen to the sound of her voice resonating in his ears, lingering in his thoughts. Is this all in vain? He wonders every cognitive moment of his life what he is doing here, brooding over what had been and what will be. All those people who he cares for now see him as a lost spirit, each wanting to help, but none knowing what to say. Their fumbling gestures manage to provoke a groaning in his spirit. He is physically here, though his mind continually keeps him from seeing the pure intentions of those who love him. He has no drive to talk to anyone about the demons inside him. Any attempt in the past had only lead to more problems. Better if he keeps it to himself now. They wouldn't understand anyway, they never have. Hayden was aware he was writing his own miserable epitaph. He had come to enjoy playing these thoughts over and over through his head, looking for the perfect eulogy.
He dropped his face down into his pillow. The eastbound train slipped in and then out of his thoughts, as he heard it make its pass through the edge of the city, assuring him that he was still here.
It hadn't always been this way. Memories of his childhood danced in the shards of sunlight stabbing through the blinds of his bedroom window. They had once lived in a small town in Texas, in a time when life was so much easier. The pressures of school and money didn't even exist. Sitting there in the front yard under the shade of the neighbor's enormous walnut tree, thinking of nothing but the wonderful feel of the damp green grass under his legs, he remembered how he would run and play without giving time a single consideration. The smell of fresh cut grass and neighborhood barbeques floated in on every cool breeze. He marveled at the birds that flew by, wishing he could fly like them, and how he would run with his arms extended trying to mimic them. The days were his to do as he wished. He wished so much that he could go back to that time.
The sounds of the morning were the same as yesterday. Pressing his face down, to block out all light, he slid his hand under his pillow and thought of things he could say to make himself get up. Nothing came to mind. Hayden pinched his eyes tight, and felt the sadness knotting up in his throat; every breath came at a price. The realization of his overwhelming loss empties his soul; he can almost feel it leave. More images of the times when he was happiest twisted and coiled around his thoughts. Images of her ...
The syllables of her name echoes in his mind, like a song with no real words, and he pressed his face deeper to bury his anguish. The tightness in his throat grew, as he tried to utter her name, but his breath would not come. Images of her flooded his mind instantly and she came to him again.
Chapter Two
Alice was sitting on a park bench staring down at her shoes. Though she'd only bought them the day before, the shoe on her right foot had been scuffed already. "Figures." she scoffed. The meadow at the far side of the playground was over grown with tall grass, the brown edges hinting at the season's change. Other than two young girls occupying the swings, the park was quiet and empty.Hayden thought it slightly odd that the park was so quiet on such a nice day. Not having many things to do in town, most of the residents took to the park for entertainment. There were a number of cook stations for grilling; all empty today, and a large pavilion for bigger get-togethers. Alice was sitting alone, and he could see her from the entry gate clearly enough to know it was her.
The crisp air was refreshing, and the sweet smell of decaying leaves filled his nostrils. It couldn't have been a better day. When you truly love someone, the whole world is a painting of all that you hold dear. His pulse quickened as he picked up his pace and began to jog towards her. He was glad she was there by herself. There were no friends to distract her: just him and her for once.
As he swung himself around the backside of the bench to face her, Hayden announced with sheer pleasure, "Hey Alice, I got you something." His heart was full, his ambition beamed from his smile. He looked at her for what seemed to be an eternity, but there was no response. She wouldn't lift her face to him, greet him, or say anything at all. She sat looking down at her shoes, without a word.
"Alice?" Haden asked, quieting his tone. As he waited for her to respond, he began to notice the details of her dark brown hair. The tints of red streaked down through her hair were new. "Alice?" He knelt down to capture her gaze, but only saw more hair.
"There is someone else here Hayden," Alice said in a broken voice. Hayden looked around and saw nothing but dead leaves dancing across the park. The silent chill air, gave no evidence of bird or beast, and the clicking of the tree branches echoed their nakedness all around. The two girls who had been on the swings were gone, and the swings were motionless. He hadn't noticed the silence until now. He suddenly grew anxious. Had he fallen back to sleep? It was all just a little too eerie to be real. Nothing moved in the park now, not even the creatures that lived there.
He stood up, looking down at her, and then glancing about with a feeling of bad news looming in the air. The sun had already gone under the horizon, leaving the sky a brilliant lavender hue, making the trees appear to be black...
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