Desiree DeOrto: The Prophecy

“We're just worried about you, pumpkin. It seems like bad luck has been following you around lately and figured we could all use a change of scenery after this last incident.” The ‘incident’, as my parent’s referred to it, flashed to the forefront of my mind. I cringed in remembrance. The smell of burning flesh still haunted me. I could hear the echoing screams of agony in my head. I didn't think the nightmares would ever go away, and I didn't know if I wanted them too. I felt guilty. Supremely guilty. But I couldn't have had anything to do with what happened. I couldn't have been the one to do it. Even to contemplate it was ten types of crazy. I just didn't want to go there, although I thought I might be half way there already.

“I know. You both think this is for the best, that I need a chance to get away from all the gossip, to start over. But this is my life. I know you don't believe me, but I had nothing to do with what happened to Rebecca.” Even to myself it sounded like a lie.

She sighed and rested her head back against her seat. I could almost feel the weariness coming off of her. “We've already said that we believe you didn't have anything to do with it. But we're not worried about our own opinions. For God's sake Starlette, LAPD almost arrested you! I don't know why you had to go and say you wished Rebecca would catch on fire, because she did. Though no one knows exactly how that happened—”

“I didn’t say that exactly. I only said—”

“Regardless of how you worded it, the 'threat' was enough for them to make you a person of interest. We will not have you living with that over your head.” Too late for that. “We will not have people staring at you like you're some kind of deranged pyromaniac!” They already do. “So you just better get used to Shiloh, because this is our home now!”

With every word, her voice got louder until she was almost screeching. She was breathing heavily by the time she turned to look at me. I knew my eyes were huge. Mom never yells. Never. “Geez Mom, that one was a long time coming.” And it was. Mom had been so calm about everything that I was beginning to feel like I was adopted. My own emotions had become so out of control that I was relieved to discover that my perfect mother could snap too. Even if it did hurt to know that it was because of me.

“Star, one of these days, humor and sarcasm won’t be enough to solve every situation, even if temporarily.”

I relaxed against my seat and tuned my gaze back to the window. “I know mom— I know.”

“Then why do you keep fighting us on this?” she looked at me pleadingly, begging to understand.

I debated on whether or not to speak. I was tentative about saying anything that would give away what was really going through my mind. It would just take one slip for my parents to think that I was losing it. “I just want to have a say in something. Everything's changing so fast that I feel like I've been left behind. Like my life is spinning out of control and I don't have a say in the matter. I just want to have some control.”

Her eyes began to water. I didn't think I could deal with her crying. “Pumpkin, I know—”

“No mom, you don't,” I hissed, feeling my volatile emotions shift within me, my anger swiftly pushing to the front. “You don’t know how I feel, you don't know what it's like, and you don't understand what I'm going through. Just give it a rest already and quit treating me like I'm a child with a booboo you need to kiss!” I almost slapped my hand over my own mouth. I paled then immediately flushed with regret over my outburst and the wounded puppy look my mother now wore. The guilt intensified, taking over where the flare of anger resided. I may be sarcastic, but I had never been outright rude or mean to my mother.

My head slammed into the window as Dad turned too fast in his seat, jerking the steering wheel in the process. “Shit!” he turned back to the road, barely missed driving off the cliff, and straight down the sheer drop off of the mountains. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel and shot daggers at me through the rear view mirror. I shrank back from how angry he looked. This was new to me. My dad had never been outright angry with me. “Starlette, I don't care how 'emotional' you are right now! You do not talk to your mother that way!”

“Dad, I don't even know where it came from!” God my head hurt and yelling wasn't helping anything. Neither was the anger that was back in full force. I swallowed, trying to push it down.

“Paul, she didn't mean—”

“Mom! I don't need a savior! Would you just stay—”

“Starlette! Do not talk to your mother—”

“ Enough! I've had enough of both of you! Paul, you need to quit switching from being a friend to a parental figure, it doesn't work that way. Starlette, you need to mind your father and watch your attitude. I really don't care for either of your attitudes at the moment, so both of you just need to shut the hell up !” My father and I were both shocked into silence.

I knew Mom was stressed, but I didn't know she was that stressed. It's a good thing to get your frustrations out, and I was happy to see that I wasn't the only one that snapped in my family. Although I'd bet my entire savings that Mom wasn't surprised at all that she snapped. Me? I'm always surprised.

A heavy silence descended upon the car, so I turned my gaze to the town coming up. We finally made it through the mountains without driving off a cliff and dying in a fiery explosion. I was extremely happy about that.

The buildings were made of authentic brownstone with brightly painted awnings and shutters, creating differences between the stores that lined both sides of the street. I could see what looked like apartments above the main floors. I wondered who would ever live above a store, but then reminded myself that this was Shiloh . There were probably inbred families living there, all happily squished together.

A break between buildings sent sunlight streaming straight into my eyes. When I felt like my pupils weren't going to shrivel up and cause permanent blindness, I caught sight of a brightly painted sign, The Nook . What made the sign stand out amongst all the quaint brownstone wasn't the rendition of Pop Art sign, with brightly used colors proudly stating The Nook , but also the hordes of people meandering in and out of the store. I couldn't see much with the sunlight reflecting off of the stores windows. I swear the whole side of it was made of glass. I started to feel like a vampire caught in the sun. Maybe I should start hissing.

I looked forward again, figuring that staring at the vehicles we slowly passed would be a hell of a lot better than becoming blinded by trying to figure out what the store was. With my luck, it was probably a porn shop. It would figure that the only thing that attracted my attention would be a peep show. That's how awesome my life had become.

“Dad, why have I seen at least thirteen different states license plates?”

I could almost feel him rolling his eyes. “The Blue Ridge Mountains are a big tourist attraction for nature lovers. There's hiking galore up here, along with nature trails, bird watching, and camping. People come from all over to spend their summers out here getting rusticated.”

I blinked slowly at him, trying to imagine people actually paying to get ‘rusticated’. I couldn't fathom it. Really, I couldn't. Sure I understood that some people loved to go hiking and enjoyed being in nature, but I never understood those types of people. Yes, nature was pretty, but I just wasn't the type that would enjoy becoming 'rusticated'. I shook my head and turned my gaze away.