Elevation

'Actually, I don't remember being born, it must have happened during one of my black outs.' -Jim Morrison
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"Hey Nancy, I'm heading home. Mike wanted me to remind you to be out of here by eleven forty-five, said he doesn't want to have to worry about you having a run in with one of those weirdoes that have been hanging out downtown these last few weeks." Harlyn Walker called, resting her back against the cool glass door while waiting for confirmation that her coworker had heard her.

Wirey gray stress hairs had almost snuffed out all the remaining black curls on the head that poked over the banister. The second story was reserved for antique, important, and expensive works that Mike liked to keep out of general view, "Neither you nor Mike need to be worrying about me. I might look old and frail to you, but I guarantee there's no hoodlum out there that would dare go up against this granny and her swinging purse."

Grinning up at her cheekily, Harlyn shrugged her defeat, "I hope you're right..."

Sure the creeps that had been haunting downtown in their gangster garb seemed a bit intimidating, but Nancy Baker had her own brand of scary. She didn't know who should be more worried, Nancy or the gangsters. "Just make sure you get out of here on time for Mike's sake, you know how he gets!" she laughed, shaking her head and leaning back into the door to open it.

Nancy waved with a large smile that stretched her lips so far over her dentures, they looked like they were about ready to pop out of her mouth, "Get home safe, birthday girl!"

Harlyn stepped out into the brisk night air, wrapping her coat tightly around herself. She immediately regretted having left her mp3 player at home that morning, depriving herself of music on her walks to and from work.

With a sigh, she shoved her hands into her pockets and began her march to the Pinnacle Estates neighborhood. Luckily, Pinnacle Estates was only about a half mile from Buyer's Court, where Mike's bookshop was located, so she didn't have too far to walk.

As she turned into the dimly lit post Victorian cottage neighborhood, she felt a swift chill pass over her, causing the light brown hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. Overcome with the strange sensation that someone was watching, possibly following her, she whirled around to face whatever it was head on, only to find the street empty of any other living presence. Taking a quick scan of the familiar houses, Harlyn came to the conclusion that nothing seemed out of the ordinary and continued on at a slightly increased pace down the street.

A fresh wave of goosebumps washed over her arms and legs in reaction to the sudden drop of temperature when she finally turned on to her street. Out of the corner of her dark eye, she saw a hulking shadow of something much larger than herself walking silently a few paces behind her.

Her hands shook violently at the mere prospect of laying eyes on whatever monster was stalking her now. She knew that if she were to look behind her, she would see something horrible and impossible born from her most feared nightmares.

Before her mind could even wrap itself around whether the idea of running was a good one, her tennis shoes were already pounding wildly against the concrete sidewalk.

Large gusts of icy wind came from nowhere, whipping and pulling at her hair, seemingly intent on keeping her from her destination. It only made her more determined to get there.

There was a flicker of warning before the lights went out and Harlyn's stomach dropped right into her toes. Already out of breath and panting in huge gasps of painfully frozen air in and out of her clenching lungs, she drove herself to push her legs harder and move faster. She didn't know what was behind her, but was sure that if she slowed down to find out, it may very well be the last thing she'd ever do.

Three houses down from her's, the power came back and in the same instant, the thing chasing her grabbed thick handfuls of her caramel hair and nearly knocked her backwards with the pure force and shock of it. Screaming, Harlyn ripped at the hair that had been snagged, swinging her arms over her head in a blind fury. Se struggled uselessly for a few seconds before realizing that whatever it was that had her was no longer moving.

Slowly, crying and terrified, she turned to face whatever had her, only to find that her hair had gotten caught in one of her neighbor's trees that had grown far past the point of trimming determined and regulated by the overly obnoxious and rude self-appointed home owner's association. Nothing, as far as her dark eyes could see was out of place in the direction she'd run from.

Heaving a great sigh of relief, Harlyn untangled her hair from the branches while shaking her head at her juvenile reaction. "No more scary movies before bed, that's for sure..." she taunted, talking herself down and away from the adrenaline that now pumped through her veins in place of blood.

She smoothed her hair back into a somewhat acceptable fashion and tried to regrain her breath, not wanting anyone at her party to notice her dissheveled state and ask questions. Running from her own shadow was not something she particularly wanted to be known for. Not to mention getting into cat fights with trees.

Clearing her throat, she turned on her heel to stalk the remaining few yards to her house, only to run head-on into an unflinching chest. Her breath caught in her throat and her butt hit the sidewalk hard.

The shock of pain made her eyes water and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and forget about the whole damn night. "Just my luck!" she hissed, glaring down at her hands, where she'd scraped them in her landing. "I swear, I get more bruises and scars on birthdays than presents."

She sniffed back whatever tears that had been welling behind her eyes and took a survey of the man she'd run into, starting at his chunky black biker boots and working her way up to his reddish, brown hair that stood up impossibly in various different directions. He wore a pair of baggy black trousers, held at his waist by a secure belt and a blue and white striped button up shirt under a slightly open black peacoat. Once she'd fully taken his appearance in, her eyes refocused on his own and she felt a strange surge of panic pass through her. There was something in the way the streetlamps reflected off of his gray, no... silver eyes that seemed almost unatural.

Before she could dwell too long staring up at him, his hand dropped right in front of her face as an offering. For a moment, she could only stare at it, almost afraid to take it.

The man stood completely still and his hand before her eyes did not waver, no irritation or confusion seemed to pass through his eyes at her slow reaction time, and she suspected that he was often stared at like this. He certainly was gorgeous enough, in a sinful sort of way.

His hand felt as if it were carved out of ice, so frozen that it stung hers where it latched on to hers and held fast, despite her initial reaction of trying to free herself from the discomfort. For the entire time, she gawked into his silvery eyes, feeling quite like she was staring into the eyes of a hunter and that she might somehow be exactly what he would consider prey. An absurd, feeling, surely, she chastised herself in her mother's voice, although something in the way he held his lithe, yet sturdy frame justified the thought.

She felt a rush of warmth when he released her, which perplexed her all the more, "Who are you?" she questioned, half hoping that she hadn't broken the silence at all.

"Watcher." was his only reply, the two syllables leaving his lips in one fluid motion, no change of stony expression whatsoever.

An eyebrow arched high on her forehead and she wondered if she might have misheard him, but before she could ask him to repeat himself, a strong burst of wind knocked her bag from her shoulder and sent it flying a few feet up the sidewalk, scattering the contents.

"Crap!" she cursed, diving past the strange man and after her bag. Once she was sure nothing expensive had been lost or broken, she flung the bag back over her shoulder and hopped back to her feet. The mysterious stranger who'd called himself 'Watcher' had disappeared.

"Harlyn, is that you?"

Shaking her head at the oddness of the whole ordeal, Harlyn turned back towards her house and waved at her mother, who had poked her head out the front door when she'd heard the bag fall. "Yah, ma'. I'm just battling some crazy weather tonight, I guess..." she sighed, glancing once more behind her, where the strange man had been standing.

Her mother made a huffing noise, "Well get on in here, girl! We can't have you blowing away next. Who would open the presents, then?"

Harlyn smiled half-heartedly at her mother as she sidleed her way past her into the house, "Oh, you know Julie wouldn't have a problem going on ahead without me." she countered, unzipping her coat and thrusting it onto the hanger, along with her bag. "She really only comes to these things to gloat about how much more her gift cost than everybody else's, anyway. I swear we haven't been friends since at least the sixth grade, yet I wouldn't be at all surprised if she got me a car this year just to rub it in everyone's faces."

With a smirk, her mother shrugged, "It doesn't matter, Lyn. If she wants to buy you fancy presents, let her. It gives her so much joy to tell everyone that she's made such a financial sacrifice for your happiness. I'm sure the others are used to her by now, anyway."

She grinned, "She is a bit of a fixture, isn't she?"

"If I didn't know her half as well as I do, I'd swear she's your most devoted friend." her mother laughed, practically pushing her into the living room, where her friends and guests were gathered in wait of her.

"Happy birthday to youuu!" the crowd began in sync with each other, causing her to flush a bright red, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Harlyn, happy birthday to you!"

"And many mooooore!" Maxwell, her friend since primary school finished in an uncharacteristic deep tenor, causing a few people to openly laugh, Harlyn and her mother included.

"Thank you so much, guys." Harlyn gushed, accepting a plastic cup of a chilled pinkish liquid from her Uncle Buck who gave her a mischievous wink. She tested the drink with a sip and nearly cringed at the amount of alcohol that had been 'somehow' slipped into the punch, "I'm sorry about the wait, I wasn't expecting you all to be here by the time I got here," she admitted with a shrug.

"Don't worry about it, Lyn!" Amber, the party girl, assured her, lifting her own plastic cup into the air for 'cheers'. "Your family's kept us all quite entertained, I promise," she finished with a wink before knocking back the remainder of the liquid in her cup in a few solid gulps that would make any seasoned drinker proud.

Julie, the proverbial rich girl in her designer dress and back-breaking heels, cleared her throat, obviously displeased at Amber's vulgarity. "Can we please get to the presents before celebrating? I really need to be home by ten if I want to get any sleep at all tonight for school tomorrow, which you would all do well to remember..."

She looked nervously around the crowd for support, but found very little in the faces of those who she'd purposely went out of her way to stay away from during highschool. Defeated, she leaned back in the rocker that normally supported Harlyn's mother.

"Don't you worry your rich little head, you're not going to turn into a pumpkin, you'll get home on time. Give the girl some time to relax and unwind, she's been at work all day," Harlyn's older cousin by two years, Brendan joked, shouldering her playfully, though she looked more violated than amused.

"Psh, Julie's right." Zack, another friend out of Harlyn's group, sounded both excited and slightly tipsy, "Get a move on, Harly. We've been waiting all night for your slowness."

"Oh, stuff it, Zack. If you were so bothered waiting here, why didn't anyone think to come give me a ride?" Harlyn bit back with another cheeky grin, as she moved her way across the living room towards the pile of presents in front of the fireplace. "I mean, really. After all the crap I went through to get here, I think I'd trade any one of these for a lift from work once in a while."

Zack let her entire argument fly right by him and urged her on, "I swear, Harly. I've got you pegged this year. These last couple ones have been hard, but I think you're really gonna like this one! It's a real winner."

Julie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest, opting for a smug stance of confidence. She looked sure as hell that there was no way on earth that Zack had somehow outdone her gift. There was no way, he played in a garage band for heaven's sake. He simply couldn't afford better.

"That one's from both of us!" Aunt Rosemary exclaimed, meaning herself and Uncle Buck, happily clapping her hands together as Harlyn picked up a heavy, medium-sized box brightly wrapped in a yellow and orange paper.

She flashed them a gracious smile quickly before ripping at the paper like a madwoman with no order whatsoever about her movements. Beneath the brightly colored paper was exactly what she'd learned to expect from the two: alcohol. It was a box set consisting of a bottle of Jack Daniel's, a signature flask, and two shot glasses.

"Buck, I told you! She's turning eighteen, not twenty-one, you weren't supposed to get her alcohol!" her mother berated her brother, looking peeved enough to knock his teeth out over the argument that never ceased between the two.

"Ah, the whiskey's in our blood!" Uncle Buck roared, shaking his fist at her, though no one had ever known him to so much as hurt a fly. "She deserves to know what took her Great Grandfather and play with fire every once in a while, don't you think child?" he turned the question, putting the spotlight back on her.

Blushing again, she nodded her thanks and tucked the box behind her, determined to move on to the next gift. Although she did enjoy a nice shot every once in a while, she certainly did not need to witness another argument about it between the McGaffrey siblings.

Her hand closed around the straps of a pretty, floral bag and Amber almost jumped out of her seat to proclaim that it was from her. Glancing inside, her eyes wideneed into big round orbs at what her present was wrapped in: a green, red, and yellow striped thong in representation of Bob Marley and all that he stood for, including and probably most importantly in Amber's mind, marijuana usage.

Deciding better of pulling it out of the bag like that, thong and all in front of her mother and relatives, she worked around it, thankful that there was something else within the thong to produce as a gift so no one would be suspicious if she just shoved the bag aside and moved on. She pulled out a pair of lovely jade earings that looked entirely breathtaking.

"Thank you, Amber! These are fantastic!" she squeeled, holding them up to her ears so everyone could get a preview of how they would look once on.

"Brilliant choice, darling. They work wonders with her complexion, really you couldn't have picked a better stone!" Maxwell practically rejoiced, the very core of his homosexuality showing proudly in his adopted lisp and critique.

Amber grinned lethargically and Harlyn was glad that she had gotten to her present before she'd passed out in the guest room because of too much drink. It was one of the things that happened relatively often, actually. Her mother didn't like to see her come home drunk, so after parties, Amber would come crash at her house. One of the percs of befriending a party animal.

"Mine next!" Zack demanded boistrously, banging his fist on the coffee table in a 'here here' sort of way.

Harlyn grinned up at him, shaking her head at his lack of patience. "Well, which one is it, then?" she asked, looking back at the pile of presents that she hadn't opened.

"The one in the red paper, there! Beside the big one." he instructed, pointing, though she found it rather easily without his unsteady finger pointing the way. It was the only one wrapped poorly enough to have been his. Wrapping paper had never been a friend to Zack.

The paper nearly fell off of it when she picked it up, causing her and the rest of the party to giggle heartily. Tearing off the flimsy paper, she discovered that he had gotten her a first edition print of Wuthering Heights and nearly started crying, "Aw, Zack, you sweet bastard!" she sniffled, "I was so pissed when Mike told me that someone had bought it the day after it came in, I had planned for weeks to save up for it."

He smiled bashfully, his ears and nose turning their trademark red.

There were only a few presents left in the pile, the ones from Julie, her parents, Brendan, and Maxwell.

She grabbed Julie's first, knowing that she was practically dying on the inside from having to watch her open everyone else's presents first. She 'woo'ed' and clapped even more enthusiastically than Aunt Rosemary had. "Oh, Harlyn, you're going to love it!" she swore, though Harlyn suspected that it was another one of those presents that she'd find absolutely no use for and store in the back of her closet once everyone had forgotten about it.

She opened the box slowly and was shocked at what was inside: an entire outfit that seemed to combine her punky style with Julie's undeniable knowledge of fashion and access to it.

The top was made from a thin, soft black fabric, its sleeves long enough to hang halfway down on Harlyn's fingers. Where the sleeves should have met the shoulders. small green bows held it together stylishly. The cut was low and would dip into her cleaveage a bit, but not too much so, and the back was a mock-corsette held together with more little elegant bows. "Wow, Julie. This top is rad." she admitted.

Julie looked very pleased with herself and urged her to continue. "You haven't even gotten to the best part yet!"

Harlyn fell in love with the jeans as soon as she pulled them from the box. They were straight-legged, dark blue washed, and had various rips and tears on the knees and thighs. Just the sort of jeans she'd normally buy from Wal-Mart, only a hell of a lot more expensive, she guessed, nothing the fine detail woven into the butt pockets. "I really love these, thank you so much." she oozed, rubbing the fabric of the top against her cheek for what must have been the forth or fifth time.

"Just get to the shoes, woman!" Julie demanded, sitting on the edge of the rocker, delighted and bent on getting even more elated with praise by the end of the night.

The boots were devine. Julie had been considerate enough to get them in a flat model, so she wouldn't kill herself trying to walk in them. They were black suede slouches that could make it all the way up to her knees, but were meant to ride low on her calves, above her jeans.

Needing no confirmation of her approval, Julie looked like a cat getting her belly scratched. "When I saw them, I just had to get them for you."

"The earings Amber got will match the top wonderfully. Thank you so much, I'll have to wear it tomorrow to school so everyone can be envious of how well I've made out this year." Harlyn gushed some more, hugging her clothes to her possessively.

Her mother coughed from the other side of the room, "Move along, dear. The cake is melting."

Brendan's package was wrapped in newspaper, as usual. Despite his parents' multiple offers to buy paper for him, he refused to 'sell out' and become another 'normal wrapper' as he referred to everyone who used brightly colored papers or bags. He liked to be different in his presentation, and particularly enjoyed the frustrated look his mother would get in her eyes when scrutinizing his gifts.

Underneathe the paper was an indistinguishable brown post box, which she needed to borrow Zack's ever-handy pocket-knife to get into, and inside the box was a small bag of kitty litter, kitten food, and a cat box. Harlyn's eyes widened, "Please tell me you didn't leave hte kitten in the box to waste away while you guys waited for me!" she begged, causing everyone to burst out laughing.

"Nah, kiddow. He's right here." Her father's voice from behind made her whirl around to see the big man holding a tiny little orange puff-ball in one of his oversized hands, "He got a little nervous once everyone started showing up, so I took him into the other room to calm him down until you got to Brendan's gift."

A huge smile broke through the worry on her face and she jumped to her feet to snatch the kitten out of her father's hand. "Oh, Brendan, he's so cute! What shall we call him?"

"I was calling him Garfunkle on the way over here, but I don't think he liked it very much." Uncle Buck laguhed, showing off a few fresh scratches on the back of his hand with a shrug.

"You'll think of something," Maxwell interrupted, tired of waiting. "Mine next?"

"Oh, alright." Harlyn agreed, setting the kitten down to play with the discarded wrapping paper. She reached for his box, smaller, but probably the heaviest.

Pulling it into her lap, she tore at the paper and found that he'd gotten her a life boat with paddles and all. "No way!" she squeeked. "You're finally going to float down the river with us this year?" she asked gleefully, excited at the prospet, as Max had always opted not to participate in the summer activity and ruin his 'perfect skin' with a sunburn.

He shrugged, "Zack and Amber have been trying to talk me into it for years." he admitted with a shy smile, "I think it would be safer if we went on a boat instead of tying those damned tubes together. They could kill a person, I swear, and they're so goddamned scratchy!"

Her parents gift was simple, yet perfect. A string of pearls to add to her collection, as she loved them so much that she kept many strings of them in their precious boxes on her dresser in her room. "Thank you ma' and pa'." she said graciously, swinging the pearls around her neck and clasping it at the back.

"Those are an heirloom from your great, great grandmother on your mother's side," her father explained, "Your mother almost couldn't bear to part with them and wouldn't have had it been for anyone else in the world."

Her mother smiled gently, "You've always reminded me of her... she was such a remarkable woman. In any of the photos we have of her, she's wearing those, along with that sly, somewhat sensual smile of hers. I can imagine those lips held many secrets back in their hayday."

The rest of the party went smoothly, as they all, somewhat drunkenly, moved into the dining room for cake and ice cream, singing to her once more, though she told them itw as unecessary.

By the time people started to leave, Harlyn was dead tired from work and the overflowing punch cups that people kept handing to her whenever they thought her cup was getting too low. Happy to see everyone go, she helped Amber to the guest room and made her way into her own.

She set the majority of her gifts down in front of the closet, too tired to bother putting them away and placed the still unnamed kitten on her bed while she changed into bed clothes. Though tired out of her mind, she played with the idea of taking a couple of sleeping pills anyway to make certain that she'd sleep deep enough not to have any nightmares.

For months, she'd been plagued by them. Unexplainable horrors and hideous monsters that she dared not tell anyone about.

No one would make much sense of them anyway, much less believe what she was capable of dreaming up.

With a shrug, she settled with the decision that she was too tired to really care and that the drink would probably do away with the nightmares. Besides, even if she did have one it would only be a dream, right? And if it got too scary, she could will herself to wake up and open her eyes and it would all be over.

At least that's what she told herself, despite the fact that she knew she'd never been able to pull herself out of a nightmare before. It was a comforting thought, all the same as she curled under her covers and pulled the kitten in with her.