Beyond The Veil (A Paranormal Romance)

Chapter 3

The cool morning breeze felt fresh on her bare forearms, like a serpent creeping under the thin fabric that was her shirt and pajama pants, sending uncomfortable chill after chill through her body. Emily grasped her bag tighter, holding it like a shield in front of her body, as the foggy, damp air wafted visibly through the awakening city. Tiny drops of water were drizzling down on her, making her clothes feel like a clammy washcloth that hadn't dried yet but had already lost the comfortable warmth of the bath.

Nowhere to go, Emily slipped into an alley a few blocks away from her home. Home. She smiled sadly at the fact that her father had probably by now managed to lift himself up off the floor and very likely was already looking for another bottle of Scotch, Whisky, Tequila, beer... He wasn't picky about his drinks, as long as they contained alcohol.

He hadn't always been like that. Actually, he had been a great father, they both had gotten along so well. Ten years back in time, everything was so different. Emily had felt loved, she had felt safe at home. She lived with the certainty that she could always return home from whatever bad had happened to her in the outside world, and she knew that loving arms would catch her and make it all better. But from one day to the next her safe haven had been taken away from her.

"Mom." Her voice was merely a whimper as the first tears fell onto her shirt. She couldn't stop them, and soon she was cowering with her back against a brick wall, sobbing her heart out.

"Are you alright?"

A deep male voice made her jump to her feet. She tried to make out where it came from but the tears that mercilessly kept flowing clouded her vision, so she could only see the outline of a man standing in some distance from her, surrounded by soft fog.

"Yes," she responded after a while. "Yes, I'm fine." The tremor in her voice gave away the lie.

Slowly, the man came closer. "I don't think you are."

"Yes. Just a rough morning." Emily unsuccessfully attempted to smile. Instead, her pretty face looked even more pained.

"Are you hiding from someone?"

When he stopped right in front of her, she could finally see his face. He looked friendly, but a serious, concerned expression weighed heavily on his otherwise handsome features. Two raven-black eyes locked with hers.

Emily forgot to breathe. Was this another dream? Or was she hallucinating? Her imagination must have run wild, projecting the images of last night's dream into the miserable reality that was this morning. Probably. Very likely so. Yes, that was it. Wishful thinking. Mental aberration, perhaps. Also a possibility.

"Do you need help?" The apparition's voice seemed honestly worried.

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

"Well, you said that already," he replied. "But your tears tell otherwise."

Not sure what to respond or how to react, Emily remained silent, not moving an inch.

"You don't have to tell me what happened," the man continued. "But it is obvious that something did happen. Or you wouldn't be out in the streets in your pajamas, huddled against a wall like a wet puppy looking for shelter, crying your eyes out."

He looked at her, waiting for her to say something. But she couldn't. What was she supposed to say? She wasn't even sure the person in front of her was real. In her state of mind anything seemed possible. So maybe her fierce longing for protection in a desperate situation had made him materialize, just like a ghost. And in that case, any kind of response would be pointless anyway.

After a long pause during which none of them said or did anything, he finally broke the silence. "Come," he said, offering her his large hand. Noticing her reluctance, he added softly, "Don't worry, you'll be safe. I'll get you some dry clothes and buy you breakfast."

Not without hesitation, Emily cautiously laid her hand in his.