The world we live in is not the world we see (LaTanya 1:1).
Something fast and furious zipped past my head. The pen snugged between my fingers refused to move. My eyes sifted through the lonely sands of the beach.
“Who do you think you are?” An eerie voice surfaced through my ear.
I whipped my head around to see who spoke those words. What the heck was that? I saw no one. The blood in my veins turned ice cold. I looked out over the rushing waves clashing together, the waters foaming at the shores of the beach, sounding like a mini storm. Perhaps that’s what I heard.
Suddenly, a dark shadow flew swiftly across the dim sky like a rocket, accompanied by a high-pitched laugh ringing in my ear. It sent a tremor of fear through my blood. My mind must be playing tricks on me because I know witches don’t exist—only in fantasy and fairy-tale stories. Besides, Halloween was approaching fast. Maybe that’s what prompted my mind to think the unimaginable.
I shook the silly thoughts out of my head. Then, I thumbed the bangs of my hair gently across my forehead, tucking them neatly behind my ear. The fresh ocean breeze whistled through the atmosphere, cooling down the warm sands of the beach. I exhaled slowly.
Meanwhile, my eyes scanned the first written word in my notebook for my new YA novel, The Soul Catchers. A smile streaked across my face as I focused on a positive thought. I finally conquered my fears of failure to become a writer the moment I picked up my pen, slipped it between my fingers, and began pouring out my thoughts and creative ideas onto each page. My eyes danced with excitement as I watched the black ink magically flow across the white paper, ending my first chapter before the Lord dimmed the heavenly lights.
Afterward, I took a sip of my strawberry lemonade, savoring the sweet taste, and observed the amber rays of the sun warming the sky. My heart glowed. I was delighted to be in the presence of the Lord. I glanced at my watch. The time had quickened. I must get home so I can prepare for my interview tomorrow.
Then, a strong mighty wind rushed through the atmosphere, sending my notes sprawling in the air. I rushed to pack my belongings when the sound of an eerie growl echoed in my ear once again. My heart pounded hard against my chest. I looked around the beach—it was a void of vendors, guests, and tourists.
My feet sunk deep into the pockets of sand as I ran toward my mini-station wagon. My legs felt heavy, like I was running in quicksand. The vision of my car drifted further from my sight as the monstrous sound grew closer. I clutched my purse bag tightly to my chest. My adrenaline rose higher than Mt. Everest. The snarling, demonic sounds surrounded me.
My hands shook as I felt for the keyhole on the car door. “Jesus, help me.” I inserted the key into the lock. Suddenly, a breath of fiery heat stung my back as I yanked open the door. I tightened my lips, keeping the scream from escaping my mouth. The cackling laugh sent the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive.
I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat before a final roar rattled my eardrum.
“You will not take this mountain.”
Immediately, I slammed the car door and sped off into the night, my foot heavy on the gas pedal. I ran every stoplight down Imperial from Dockweiler Beach before I pulled up into my parents’ driveway. My feet hit the pavement as I made my way up the porch steps. Forget closing the sliding gate. My hands trembled as I tried to penetrate the keyhole with my key.
“No one in your bloodline gets past me,” the ghostly voice said.
My heart took a nosedive to the pit of my stomach. The cackling laugh screeched like chalk scratching across a chalkboard in my ear. I didn’t look back. Instead, I forced the heavy wooden door open. I darted past Mama and Daddy, who were relaxing in bed enjoying their Clint Eastwood westerns, and ran straight into my bedroom, slamming the door.
“Tracy.” Mama called out to me, but I ignored her call. I quickly dressed for bed and pulled the covers over my head. I could hardly breathe from the sheets smothering my oxygen, but there was no way in hell I was coming out from under them. My heart was racing faster than a cockroach sprinting across the kitchen floor to a buffet. I exhaled slowly. The scent of lavender from my freshly washed sheets soothed my nerves.
I whispered, “I will not be afraid of the terrors by night nor the arrows that fly by day, nor the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor the destruction that wastes by noonday. In Jesus’ name.” Finally, my eyes softened. I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up like James Brown in a cold sweat with warm drool plastered to the side of my face. I glanced over at my window, where the sun had split through the clouds. I shook the thought of witches flying in the night and demons terrorizing me out of my head because stuff like that only happened to Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz or the kids from A Nightmare on Elm Street. I lived off Vermont Street, so I was excluded.
I cleared the mucus from my eyes, then stretched like a feline cat, my muscles cracking, popping, and aching. My back felt like the local Girl Scouts had just roasted s’mores on it over an open fire. The smell of ocean water pierced my nose.
At first, I thought it was just a dream. It wasn’t real. Then I looked over the side of my bed and saw my sandals in the middle of the floor covered with sand. I snatched the covers from my legs. I gasped. My feet were encrusted with sand.
This was not a dream. This was reality.
