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Annabelle's stomach rumbled; she hadn't had breakfast yet, and now it was lunchtime. She grabbed her phone and stepped out of her room. As she descended into the noisy kitchen, the air thickened with an eerie energy. The initiates' symbol painted on the wall in her dream kept replaying in her head. Before her stood a figure shrouded in shadows, its presence seeming to draw the light out of the kitchen.
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Her heart pulsed with a faint beat. "The trial of shadows begins," the figure hissed, its voice like a rusty gate. Her demeanor was wavering. "You must confront the darkness within," a second voice whispered into her right ear. Suddenly, the kitchen was plunged into total darkness. Annabelle heard the sound of whispering voices, each one echoing her deepest fears and doubts. She felt an icy presence closing in around her. "Focus, Annabelle, unpack the effects the shadow has on you," a mysterious voice kept offering guidance.
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Of course, there was a doubtless train of thought contradicting each other in my head. Take, for example, when I found the diary, thinking it was Grandma helping me; I ended up falling into the dark trap. Now, it's strange to receive guidance from a mysterious voice I cannot see but hear alone. What if it's a trap? And what if the voice is leading me into temptation disguised as guidance? All of those thoughts kept making my head hot with worry.
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Suddenly, the atmosphere returned to its original state, and I found my mom staring at me with no emotion. "Mom, mom, mom!" I screamed again to get her attention. She seemed to be in a daze, confirming my doubt about her. "Are you okay?" I touched her right elbow and felt electrocuted. I withdrew my hand, raising my eyebrows at her.
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"Do not alert her," the voice advised me. I swallowed the saliva in my throat and smiled. "You had me worried," I kept screaming, "Mom, and you just stood here in a daze." I started to feel like someone was watching me, but when I turned in that direction, it was just my aunt doing the dishes and singing. She wasn't even paying me attention; that's weird – I mean, feeling watched and seeing the spot empty.
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Aunt suddenly rinsed the last spoon, set it in its place, and turned to look at me in an eerie way, smiling. I ignored the uncomfortable look and asked, "Aunt, you look happy today. What's the good news?" I said, throwing a diced carrot into my mouth. She walked towards me and wrapped her hand around my waist, spinning us together in circles. I giggled, fighting the dizziness in my eyes. "Aunty!" I screamed. She stopped but walked away like nothing happened. I guess I need to walk on my stamina.
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"You have been in your room all day; is everything okay?" Aunt suddenly asked. "I was cleaning my room," I lied, dishing fried rice into my plate. "Have you recently engaged yourself in an activity that prevents you from sleeping?" Aunt asked. Mom looked at me and said, "She is fighting some type of mysterious battle." Annabelle, kill Miguel, Mom joked with the phrase from the Passion series. On the inside, I took the joke personally, but on the outside, I carefully tucked my hair behind my ears and scooped the fried rice into my mouth. The taste was blank.
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I looked up to see Mom and Aunt staring at me with their hands folded on their chest. "What, did I do something bad?" I said, wiping the corners of my lip with the back of my hand. "You didn't respond to my question," Aunt Grace said. My mom seemed to be backing Aunt up with her current confrontational stance. I don't understand Aunt Grace; these days, she and Mom ask seemingly innocuous questions that feel like probing.
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When Phoebe, my older sister, walked into the kitchen, getting their attention, I took that time to play my ringtone, which brought their attention back to me. "I need to take this upstairs," I said, grabbing my plate and bottled water. Before I walked away, I stopped the ringtone and placed the phone to my ear, pretending to receive a call from a long-time friend.
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