Lost Girl by Michaelbrent Collings

Author:Michaelbrent Collings [Collings, Michaelbrent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, myths and legends, peter pan, peter and wendy, lost boys
Publisher: Michaelbrent Collings
Published: 2019-11-19T00:00:00+00:00

The Tea

Eve found herself in front of apartment 214 and wasn’t even sure how she got there. She had vague recollections of running out of the school, of being challenged by one of the security guards as she left. Of dashing through the streets while she cried non-stop and ending up in her apartment where her mother was passed out on the couch.

And then here. In front of this door. This place where lived the enigmatic boy she hardly knew. She had only the faintest idea where she was, and no idea what had drawn her here, but she found herself rapping on the door with one hand while clutching at her stomach with the other. She sucked on her inhaler, more as comfort than because it offered any physical assistance, then put it back into her pocket with a shaking hand. She hammered at the door again. And again. And still more, harder and harder.

She had stopped crying; now she was sobbing: heaving, wracking tears that threatened to overwhelm her where she stood. A moment later she wasn’t just banging on the door, she was kicking it and screaming at it, rage and naked frustration streaming out of her in a way that she would never have expected from herself.

A door down the hallway opened and a balding man in a wife beater stuck his head out. “The hell’s going on out here?” he snapped.

Eve didn’t answer, just kept screaming and pounding at the door. It shook and rattled, cheap wood in a cheap frame in a cheap building on a cheap block in a cheap part of the city. But it didn’t open.

The bald man stared at her.

Eve couldn’t keep it up. She didn’t get less angry or less sad or less fearful, but she also couldn’t maintain this level of energy output. Her batteries had run dry. She sagged quite suddenly, slouching against the door and then sinking to its base. The man down the hall stared at her for a moment longer then shrugged and apparently decided that he didn’t care what was going on, only that it got quiet again. He returned to his apartment and closed the door.

Eve lay at the base of the still-closed door to 214, motionless but for the middle three fingers of her right hand. They were touching the bottom inch of the door. Scraping at it weakly, like the piteous scratches of a kitten that had been locked out and wasn’t quite sure why.

A moment later, even those fingers ceased all motion. All was still in the hall. Eve had no idea how long she lay like that. Nor did she care. She didn’t want to know anything. She just wanted to stay here until her heart stopped, and if she had known how to do it she would have willed that to happen. She would have committed suicide if she had had the means to do it by some psychic skill alone.

After a minute or an hour or a year – time had ceased to mean much to Eve – the door to 214 opened.

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