Home > Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1)(2)

Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1)(2)
Author: K.K. Allen

“Mom—“ I start, but she shakes her head to cut me off.

“This stop isn’t for you. It’s for me.”

I snap my mouth closed and step back while she orders two strawberry milkshakes. We sit down at a blue table with a matching blue umbrella. I try to enjoy the creamy sweetness sliding down the back of my throat, but it’s impossible with our future conversation looming over my head.

“I didn’t push him.” I can’t hold back the tears anymore. “I barely touched him. I only put my hands on him because he touched me first.”

“That boy put his hands on you?”

I can see the fury in my mother’s eyes. “Yes. After he told the entire school that I slept with him. I’ve never even seen Steve outside of school. And I haven’t—”

“Katrina.” She sighs. “I believe you. I do. And if what you’re saying is true, then maybe Steve deserved to fly out a window, but I’m not worried about that boy right now. I’m worried about you. You have got to learn how to control your anger.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I don’t think you know your own strength at times, and that’s not something the school can consider as an excuse. That’s why I’m pulling you from Silver Lake High and enrolling you in online courses. You only have another month until the end of the year, and then you’ll be at the community college. Your best bet to get into a four-year institution is to keep a low profile, and we’ll get you some help in the meantime.”

College. The dreaded subject. My mom has insisted on me furthering my education since I was a little girl. I don’t understand the point of it. And with how broke we always seem to be, I can’t imagine even being able to go when it’s time. But I don’t argue with her about it because I know how much it means to her. If anything, I try to avoid the subject.

“What if nothing helps me? It’s like I’m cursed. What if bad things just happen when I’m around?”

She averts her eyes and shakes her head. “You are not cursed. And no, bad things don’t just happen when you’re around. You just…” She clamps her mouth shut without finishing her thought, then she turns back to me and tilts her head. “I’m going to help you live a normal life.”

A chill snakes through me at her words. A normal life? What does that even mean?

“There’s something I want to give you.”

My mom begins to fiddle with the gold charm bracelet that wraps her wrist. It holds a single heart-shaped locket, and she’s worn it for as long as I can remember. She always seems to be touching it in some way, but she does something I’ve never seen her do before—she unclasps it. Her breath is sharp, and her eyes close when the jewelry slides away from her skin. After a brief pause, she slips it around my wrist, her hands shaking.

“Do you remember the story about how I met your father?”

I swallow, feeling panicked as I search her eyes. If she’s bringing up my father, she must be trying to tell me something important. “You met him in Apollo Beach after you washed ashore. He carried you into his parents’ home, and you fell in love.”

My mom nods slowly then reaches out to touch the locket hanging from my wrist. “This was the only item I carried with me. Like my life before Apollo Beach, I don’t know how I got it or where it came from. Yet strangely, I know it’s protected me over the years. Just like I know it will protect you.”

I stare at the beautiful chain, a sick feeling swirling in my stomach. I’ve always sensed a deeper story to my mom’s past that she’s never been willing to tell me. “What do we need protection from?”

My mom just shrugs and gives me a soft smile. “Ourselves. Promise me you’ll never take it off, no matter what.”

I blink back at her, wondering if she’s serious.

“Promise me, Katrina.”

Hearing the sharpness in her tone, I nod. “I promise.”

“Good.” She moves to my bench, wraps an arm around my shoulders, and presses a kiss to my temple. “Let this charm remind you of all the good you possess. And please,” she adds with a laugh, “put some other charms on it while you’re at it.”

I promise her that I will and follow her lead to drop the conversation. She smiles while we finish our milkshakes and begin debating which movie to watch tonight. My mom always suggests thought-provoking dramas like Memento and Gone Girl, while I aim for romantic comedies like 10 Things I Hate About You and Clueless.

By the time we park our bikes and walk up the two flights of stairs to our third-story apartment, we’ve narrowed it down to two options.

“Let me hear your pitch,” she challenges as she sticks her key in the door. “Why should we watch The Butterfly Effect?”

“You first.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Why should we watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?”

There’s a grin on my mom’s face when she pushes open the door, and I almost forget the terrible portion of the day that came before now. She’s just opened her mouth to respond when her pocket buzzes, alerting her of a new message.

“Damn,” my mom says, her eyes on her cell phone screen. “I have to go back to work.”

I didn’t think my day could get any worse. “No. You’re kidding me, right? It’s your night off.”

She sighs and reaches for her purse. “I know, but I had to leave in a hurry to get to the school. A patient needs discharge papers. I’m just going to run to work, type up my notes, and then I’ll be back here in time to start the movie. Two hours, tops.”

I groan and roll my eyes. “Fine. I’ll take a bath or something.”

My mom’s eyes light up. “Great idea, sweetheart. Take a bath. Read a book soon. I’ll be back.” She leans over and kisses the top of my head. “I love you, Katrina.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

 

 

Darkness, emptiness, loss. I’m swimming through the fiery depths of my own thoughts—past, present, and future—when I’m ripped from my slumber by three hard knocks on the front door. My mind is trapped in a fog, but I can feel my body aching from my having fallen asleep on our tattered, stiff green couch. I yawn and look at the digital clock above the television. It’s three in the morning. The television is on, but it’s stuck on the menu screen from the movie I started streaming earlier, and the bowl of popcorn I made hours ago is still sitting half-full on the coffee table. I must have passed out early.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Mom?” I stand up and scan the apartment.

I check her room. Her bed is still made. I look in the bathroom. No sign of her. Finally, I walk toward the front entrance and discover that her purse and keys are missing from the table near the front door, where she normally places them. She should have been home hours ago.

It’s times like this I wish my mom wasn’t so against simple methods of communication like cell phones and email. She’s always warned me away from the addictive technology that will consume my life if I’m not careful. I swear she would have put me in homeschool sooner if she didn’t have to work so much.

Another round of knocks pound at the door, making me jump. I take another step to reach the door and peek through the little hole. The moment I see the police uniform, my entire body freezes. I can feel the blood draining from my face and pumping through my veins. Everything is racing—my heart, my mind. I can’t shake the dark, awful thoughts I’ve been experiencing lately. It feels like everything that’s happened over the past two years has escalated into this pivotal point, but I don’t know why. I don’t know what any of it means, but I can’t avoid whatever this is any longer.

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