Summer Shadows

Weeks rolled by at the Dreyton’s beach house in an awkward unease. The summer continued to heat up as Katie, Oliver, and I hovered in a perpetual tension. He continued to avoid her with a few short words here or there, while she continued to stew in what I could only be hurt and confusion silently. Meanwhile, I carefully tried to keep them both at an idle distance. I didn’t want to discuss Oliver with Katie, and I didn’t want to discuss Darren with Oliver. It was a very fine precipice to balance it all on, regularly changing the topic to Katie’s developing relationship with Cal whenever the situation with Oliver seemed on the brink, while meticulously avoiding being alone with Oliver for extended periods of time. It was tiring, and an ever-constant balancing act. I retreated more and more to the confines of my room as time went by. Luckily, neither of them seemed too intent on prying.

At least, not during the day hours.

In the dark of the evenings the nightmares were regaining their frequency, and despite the distance I tried to keep, Oliver almost always seemed to be there to pull me out of their bitter hold. He’d never push matters then, just offer a soft comforting voice in the wake of my dreams and the gentle touches that always seemed to help calm me down. He stayed until I fell back asleep every time. Neither of us spoke of his visits on those nights after the fact; a relief in it’s own way. I believe we both knew how much his presence meant in those times, though.

Darren had kept quiet for the time; quiet enough to leave me in perpetual state of paranoia. I almost expected to see him everywhere—in the flesh of some bystander or just as he was; only visible to my gaze. But as the days turned to weeks, he never came. It felt like the calm before the storm; and god knows it pushed me to alienate myself further from Katie and Oliver.

The head of house wasn’t around enough to pay much heed to the sudden reversal in progress I was making; banking matters kept him busy and away from the beach house more often than not. Katie seemed to be his middleman during the weeks; she of course never really gave him the truth. It seemed his allowance of her presence had been to help Oliver and I. Instead, we all seemed to be drifting farther apart. Or, so it seemed on the surface.

My nights became longer as I tried my best to avoid sleep and the plague of nightmares I came to expect. As a result, I found myself trying my best to maintain a silence as I crept out of the Dreyton’s residence almost every night, strolling along the darkened beach for hours on end. It honestly never ceased to amaze me how at peace the lull of the waves against the shore left me; time slipped by effortlessly on those excursions. The humidity didn’t seem such a bother in the light of the moon and stars, coastal breeze actually leaving me to don one of the jackets from the room I’d taken a fondness for. The beach seemed to meet my ideals in the late hours of the summer nights.

I wasn’t always alone on those walks; the occasional stragglers crossed my path every few nights, but I kept my distance, as did they. Up until the two-week mark of the Windjammer incident, that is.

That night, the air was a bit clearer; it had rained during the afternoon and the sand was hard and cool beneath my feet. The air still smelled of rain, the gentle scent of ocean lingering with it. The jacket I’d more or less commandeered from the Dreyton’s closet a few weeks back was undoubtedly a necessity. Even in the overcast night, there was no denying how choppy the coastal waters were. I loved everything about that evening. Even if my eyes felt heavy, I was determined not to give into sleep until it was absolutely necessary.

It had been two days since my last nightmare; I still hadn’t fully recovered from that. He’d been there when I’d woken up, of course, intently focused in me despite his apparent need for sleep. He’d done what he always did at that point; he calmed me. He gave me something to focus on. Oliver was my rock at those times. He always stayed until I fell back asleep; and I recalled that time I had fallen asleep with my head on his chest. Even if the daylight seemed to hold a distance between us, the nights allowed the truth to surface. Oliver was becoming my safe zone. The late nights and the walls of the room I stayed in kept our secret well.

The reality of it scared me every time I woke up; it was the opposite of what I intended and wanted. It truly was a conflict of my interest to keep him safe. As a result, I fought sleep to the best of my ability for a day or two, hoping to somehow settle us back into something less than what it seemed to be developing into. I didn’t want the blood of both of the Dreyton siblings on my hands; if I wasn’t careful…

I gave my head a shake, glancing out towards the darkened waters. It wasn’t going to happen. I was going to at least keep Oliver safe. Somehow.

“Staying up so late so often can’t be good for your health, y’know. Unless you’re a vampire or something. You’re pale enough so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The sound of her voice made me jump slightly, it was light and airy. I turned quickly; finding the girl from the Windjammer perched on a log that the afternoon storms had washed ashore. Even in the dark, she seemed to be smiling.

“If I hadn’t seen you in the daylight I’d believe it. But. You’re just a night owl. Or an insomniac. Hi. Gotta be lonely out here with just your thoughts all the time, Maggie.”

I stayed quiet for a few moments, taking a few steps towards her. “If I’m a vampire, you’re a ninja. You’re very quiet. Hello.”

“As cool as that would be, it’s unfortunately not true. I’m just very… light-footed.” She shrugged a bit, rolling her heels in the sand. “So, which is it? Insomniac or night owl?”

“Little bit of both.” It wasn’t a lie; even before I met Simon, I’d preferred my late nights; not until the crack of dawn like recently, but, late enough.

“Do you remember my name?”

“You’re… Lillian. Right?”

“Ding! That’s me. I wondered if you’d forget.”

“I’m a little surprised at myself, actually,” I admitted. But really, she’d been one to stand out. Maybe it was because I’d met her on that day, maybe because she’d been the person I’d seen last before Darren pulled me up the stairs at the Windjammer. “Er. You’ve seemed to take notice that I do this a fair bit. I suppose that means you don’t sleep much yourself.”

“Sleep is for the weak, Maggie, sleep is for the weak.” She gave a little wave of her hand and an eye roll. Of course she was at that age where staying up all night seemed to be the cool thing to do.

“Right, right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh! Hey! Are you going to the anniversary celebration for the hotel in a few weeks? I’m sure you guys got an invite. Are you looking forward to it?”

I paused for a moment, marveling slightly at her ever present energy and curiosity, even in the dead of the night. I did recall Katie mentioning something about dress shopping for the shindig at the hotel; the Dreytons had received an invitation, and while that naturally included Katie and myself, Cal had asked her to come directly, as a date. She had seemed ecstatic, and I was beyond pleased for her. Katie deserved a good time, and keeping company with Cal seemed to fit that bill.

“Er, I’m going, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it much, frankly. Is it a big deal down here?”

“Among the upper-crust of Charleston? You bet. It’s always a good time. Dancing, drinks—a few of the wait-staff turns a blind eye to the family’s kids getting a drink or two, just so you know—its surprisingly not so bad. Gotta put that ballroom to proper use, y’know?” She seemed more than thrilled to discuss it, nodding and grinning her way through her little explanation.

“I see. I suppose you’ll be there?”

She wrinkled her nose at that, glancing to the side with a shrug. “Ha. Nope. I’m currently on house arrest. Cops busted a bonfire over on St. James island with a bunch of the local kids and. Welp! My parents didn’t take that too well. Of course.”

“Oh, that. That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“’S fine. I’ve gone to enough of those stupid things throughout the years.” Lillian ran a hand through her fair hair, giving me a side glance. It didn’t take long to discover what was on her mind. “You okay? After what happened at the Windjammer?”

Her question left me in silence for a moment; so it had been her I’d caught a glimpse of that day. I gave a very slow nod in reply. “I’m okay, yeah. I. I had a bit of a breakdown.”

“He said something awful to you, didn’t he?”

Again, she left me temporarily stunned. Something about the way she said that left me wondering if she knew more than she let on. I swallowed, pushing some of the hair out of my face that the wind seemed so intent on kicking back at me.

“I don’t really want to talk about that,” my reply was soft, keeping my eyes on the ebb and flow of the tide as opposed to the girl speaking to me.

“…Yeah. Just. Do me a favor. Be as careful as you can. Someone may not always be there to notice if something bad happens, okay?” The cheeriness was gone from her tone as she spoke, replaced by a low, terse warning. I looked back at her then, only to find she was up and off the log, stretching.

“…What… do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said. I can’t explain too well at the moment, I’m getting a bit restless. But I’ll see you around Maggie. Have a good night.” She smiled at me then, offering a little wave before she turned on her heels, making her way down towards the darkened shops and restaurants of the little strip. I stared after her for a few moments, slowly turning to make my way back.

Lillian’s warning clung to my thoughts the whole walk.

***

The house was quiet as I slipped back in, dusting my feet meticulously on the rug at the door; nothing was quite as unpleasant as tracking sand through the whole house. I always tried to make sure I avoided that. I kept my steps as silent as possible as I made my way up the stairs, and there, something caught my eye.

A faint light came from the cracked door to Oliver’s room; my steps slowed by my own. It was late; why was he up? I blinked a bit as I glanced around the hall; no one else seemed to be awake. I hoped he hadn’t heard me leaving. With measured hesitance, I took a few careful steps closer. The door was a bit more than cracked open, frankly. I could easily see a fair bit of the room as I slowly peeked in. At the center of it all was Oliver; propped up against the backboard of his bed, focus set on the book he held. The light of the lamp reflected slightly off of his glasses, a few curls falling before them.

I couldn’t help but stare at him from where I stood, the sight all too familiar. How many nights had Simon sat in my window seat, a book in hand? I remembered him in the light of the moon; eyes downcast on whatever he’d decided to pull from my shelf that night. This just seemed… so familiar. It hurt in it’s own way. Simon Dreyton was an ache that was going to stick with me until my last breath.

Oliver gave a small sigh, lifting his focus from the book. My grip on the doorframe tightened slightly as our eyes met; the air between us completely silent. I blinked, unable to pull myself away; he kept his gaze steadily on me all the while.

“…Your light was on,” I spoke quietly, causing a ripple in the quiet.

He gave a little nod after a moment, only glancing down to close his book. “I was reading. You were gone. I wanted to make sure you came back okay.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“I do, actually. I worry.” He leaned back a little after he set his book on the nightstand, pushing his glasses up a bit as he rubbed his eyes. He definitely should have been sleeping; not that I had much room to talk.

“I’m okay, I just…” I trailed off for a second, casting a small glance down. “…I don’t necessarily like the idea of sleep at the moment. That’s all.”

“Maggie.”

There was a slight bit of hesitation as I glanced up once more; Oliver shift a bit; patting the spot on the edge of the bed. “Come here.”

Staring at Oliver seemed to be the only thing I was able to do for a few moments; god, I had been so intent on maintaining a distance with him. It was the logical thing to do, after all. Keep the space, only deal with him on a need basis as opposed to a want. But, I wanted to go to him. He was comforting; he was familiar in the worst sort of way. Following my wants would be the exact opposite of what it seemed like the best course of action.

He didn’t say a word as he waited, eyes patiently settled on me as I fought with myself on what to do. I could walk away; easily. I could turn without a word and retreat to my room or… anywhere I pleased. Anywhere he wasn’t.

But at the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I wanted to be near him; I wanted the familiarity of Simon that always came with his presence. I wanted it for all of the wrong reasons. Those reasons, though, were strong enough to push me forward slowly; steps edging me closer to the boy I held a misplaced fascination with. He actually looked slightly surprised as I cautiously approached, eyebrows rising slightly as he scooted a bit further towards the center of his bed.

I wanted a little bit of peace, I realized, just as I wanted to cling to the idea of Simon. Oliver was my peace. He had been every night I’d awoken from my nightmares of late. Maybe it would be okay; just for the time.

My feet pulled to a halt at his bedside, fidgeting with my hands briefly as I glanced up to meet his eyes. He gave a slow, reassuring smile with a little nod. That was all it took for my hesitance to alleviate some, carefully settling myself on the grey comforter with a little exhale. He held his place as I shifted somewhat closer, stomach an odd jumble of knots as I dropped my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. Oliver let out a quiet sigh, wrapping an arm carefully around me. The silence wasn’t miserable, or heavy, I found peace in it as he gently ran a hand through my hair.

“I fell asleep on you the other night, didn’t I?” My voice was a low mutter, carefully shifting a bit closer to rest a hand on his torso and get a bit more comfortable. He was warm, the scent of him soft and familiar.

“You did. But that’s okay; I don’t mind.”

“…Can I ask you something?”

I felt him nod, fingers still running through my hair. “Yeah, of course.”

“How do you always know when to come to me because of my dreams?”

There was a momentary pause, and I peeked an eye open, shifting my head enough to glance up at him. His gaze moved to meet mine then, face placid briefly before his lips tugged downward in the slightest.

“I leave my door open every night, just in case. And I stay up. I can take a nap in the heat of the day, so it isn’t a big deal, but. I’d prefer to lose a bit of sleep and be there if you need me rather than… let you deal with that on your own,” his admittance came in a soft voice, our eyes holding a steady focus.

“Why would you do that?” I posed an earnest follow up question. I didn’t understand Oliver. I didn’t understand why he would do that for me; especially when I’d informed him of how I related him to Simon so strongly.

He didn’t reply immediately, gently reaching to brush my bangs back out of my face. His gaze was so focused, so intense, yet, somehow so forlorn. It made me ache. I wanted to comfort him, and I wasn’t even sure what was wrong. Oliver leaned in slightly, pressing his lips gently to my forehead. A wave of heat took hold of my face in that moment, blinking a few times as I processed what he had just done. It was such a simple gesture; yet it felt like a spark of electricity in it’s own way.

“I’ve got my reasons.” His voice was low as he continued to hover close, and I couldn’t help but stare up at him. Those eyes were as mesmerizing as ever, such a clear, bright blue. I slowly reached up, fingers brushing delicately along his cheek; Oliver leaned into my touch. Whereas his fingers were rough, his face was soft, pleasant to touch. He really was everything. I found myself leaning in, the distance between us lessening as his hand slowly slid to the small of my back. In that moment, I wasn’t sure exactly who I was captivated by. Was it the memory of Simon, or was it Oliver?

The scream from down the hall jolted us both, the steely shot of shock that ran through my body left the sensation of pinpricks in its wake; our reactions were immediate, Oliver and I both fumbled off the bed without any hesitation. Katie’s voice was stifled soon after. A lead ball seemed to take up residence in my stomach as I tore down the hall behind Oliver, his figure impacting the unmoving door to the room she was staying in.

“Katie? Katie!” My voice came out an alarmed, screech as I watched him fumble with the door handle.

“It’s—It’s locked—“

Those words pushed my panic that much further, I felt my figure trembling as Oliver stretched above the door, dropping a small skeleton key that was kept above the doorframe in his haste.

“Shit—Shit—“ He retrieved it immediately, struggling slightly to get it in the lock before managing to get the door opened. What only took a few seconds felt much agonizingly longer. I didn’t hesitate to push past him and into Katie’s room, coming to an almost immediate halt as my blood ran cold at the sight before me. My breath caught in my throat in a sharp gasp.

I knew that bulking figure, those dark clothes much too warm for our locale hunched over a writhing figure on the bed. I could see his hands around her throat, the panic on her face as she struggled and fought against an intangible and possibly unseeable force that deprived her of oxygen. He looked over almost immediately, a malicious look resonating in his brown eyes, and smiled. A second or so later, Darren was gone. Katie gasped and shook as she sat up, quaking fingers grasping for her throat as tears streamed down her face.

The world suddenly felt muted; I barely registered Oliver running past me and Katie’s increasing sobs and screams as he attempted to comfort and calm her. The world seemed to stop for a moment; a dark figure appearing in front of me without warning. Darren held my gaze with nothing short of a maddening grin. He had wanted me to see this. He had wanted to make it known how utterly useless I was to protect the people I cared about from his existence. He wanted me to know he absolutely was not done. Just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. The world slowly started to move on it’s own again, and I managed to pull myself out of my horrified stupor and over to Katie’s side.

“M-Maggie—He—He was here—he was right h-here—h-he tried to--“ Her voice was raspy, coughing between sobs as she clung to me. I could feel her figure quaking as I held her close, barely noticing my own trembling. I couldn’t bring myself to speak then, clutching Katie tightly as I stared in shock at the disheveled blankets on her bed.

Oliver was at the foot of the bed, his face was hard as he paced back and forth, color drained from his features in the wake of what had just happened. This had been utterly unexpected for all parties involved, shocking and horrifying. But the simple truth of it all—that only I knew—was that it was my fault.

It was my fault Darren wouldn’t let up. It was my fault Katie was attacked. It was my fault innocent people were dead or harmed. It was my fault for not handling the situation with the dead boy who was so intent on getting his revenge.

***

Katie had demanded Oliver contact the police, and even though I knew it would yield no results, he had acquiesced. I held my silence then, eyes constantly settling on the distinct hand prints that were darkening on her throat. There was physical evidence on her, but that aside, there would be nothing for them to find.

I had been correct about that; the local authorities had shown up not long after, scouring the house and all around for the intruder or signs of a break in. They of course, had turned up nothing. A report was filed and they were on there way upon reassuring Katie multiple times that there was nothing to be found.

It was painful to watch her so confused, so frustrated, terrified, and angry. I couldn’t blame her. But I also couldn’t rightly blame them. The only person I could hold responsible was myself.

It took hours, Katie finally falling back to sleep an hour or so before dawn with the help of prescription medication Oliver had provided without hesitance. I didn’t leave her side, though. She slept in my room then, head in my lap as I stroked her hair. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the darkening marks on her throat. The guilt I felt stung like a fresh burn. It was going to haunt me like Simon Dreyton once had.

Oliver sat in the corner of my room, silent and focused on the world beyond the window. The circles under his eyes were distinct; and I bit the inside of my lip as I tried not to stare too hard.

“You… should get some rest, you know.”

He looked over at that, maintaining his silence as he observed me for almost a minute.

“I get the funny feeling you aren’t planning on taking your own advice,” his voice came out just as tired as he looked, but, he wasn’t incorrect.

“I don’t think I could, honestly.” I gave a small shrug, looking back down to Katie.

“That makes two of us, then.”

We lapsed into silence once more, and Oliver stayed. The night slowly gave way to a grey morning, heavy clouds blanketing the sky. The weather seemed as though it was going to reflect the mood of the day almost perfectly.

My eyes slowly drooped shut; exhaustion from the last few days was becoming impossible to fight. The adrenaline had worn off, and the numbness had given way to a constant stream of thoughts and what ifs and what could bes. All were scary, all were draining to think about. At one point, I did begin to doze off, head falling against the backboard as the faint sound of soft footsteps barely registered. I opened my eyes just enough to see Oliver quietly pulling the door to my room closed behind him. Not long after, another door in the house closed with enough of a thud to register. Sleep was becoming a reality, but my brain continued to lull on even as I slowly succumbed to its embrace.

Darren was not going to stop; and there was nothing I could do to put an end to his prolonged existence. Maybe instead it was time I did something about the root of all the death and pain; the one existence I could control. Maybe it was time I did something about my own.