Prophecy of Ella

A sneak peak

Prophecy of Ella—Valley of Light, last Scene of Chapter

CHANGES

As we walk through to the cemetery, a group gathers on the right of us, hovering by their motorbikes. A biker gang—in Mt Shasta?
“Shana,” I said whispering as quietly as I could; which isn’t quite enough, “who are they?”
“They’re just a harmless local group. They look scarier than they are; one of them is in my History class, he is really hot, never says much.” She doesn’t look too bothered by them. I notice Fenix respond to her hot comment with a sharp protective snarl.
Romney pokes his head between us, “I heard they practice rituals and witchy stuff. Seems odd they are hanging outside a cemetery don’t you think?” Typical, still trying to scare me with ghost stories! I turn my head to roll my eyes at him.
A strange shiver rushes up my spine as I step closer to Gran’s tombstone—it’s immaculate. It almost looks polished—brand new. I notice the earth surrounding is covered in her favorite wild orchid, the Fairy Slipper; I pick one to admire its perfection—not a bruise.
Gasping for air—my eyes scan the grave in disbelief.
“Who would be doing this—caring for it?” I mutter, looking to my friends, for a glimpse of evidence they are behind it. My lips part as their eyes glare back in confusion.
“Probably one of her friends Ella—she was well loved.” Fenix replies. He is convincing, but not enough to settle my curiosity. All other graves were somewhat overgrown—but not a single weed grew where Gran lay. Not one brown leaf or withered flower. Was she loved so much—more than any of the others buried here?
I place my suddenly small and underwhelming bunch of flowers by the stone, and run my fingertips gently across her name—Shumani Godfrey. I miss you, Gran.
As we walk out the gate, a strong gust catches my free-flowing hair, blowing it over my face in wild aberration. Trembling thunder from the nearby motorcycle startles me.
I regain my sight succeeding to wrestle away my mane, and there he stands; a young man five feet away, staring with such intensity; I blenched stumbling backward. Why is there such a familiarity to his Gaze?
Oh shit…….of course—it’s his eyes; those spearmint eyes he had bestowed on me previously—in my nightmare. I gasp my last breath for several minutes.
My heart races in my frozen chest, skipping several beats; lungs so starved of oxygen by now.
Breathe Ella….Breathe I repeat over several times. It isn’t helping.
How is this possible? Fear forbids me to move, my thoughts screaming—What the Fuck is happening!
The stranger’s lips twist at the edges; yes speak to me—say something—anything.
He doesn’t; just gifts me a strange, all-knowing smile.
Still frozen in disbelief, my thin legs also quivering now.
My chance to run after him passes too quickly—he throws his helmet over his perfect black hair and swings onto his bike, revving its smooth engine—his head turned back towards me, never letting our eyes break-away, then in a flash—he vanishes into the distance.
My heart still pounding, my strangled lungs manage a desperate gasp of air. Eh…… Did I just see an apparition? Another series of quivers, stronger than the last, shoot up and down my spine turning my body to ice. All my fingers and toes are tingling simultaneously.
The ground rushes toward me—Blackness.

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