Devils Roses 01 - Cursed

Shane’s and waited in the woods. I hid, basically, at the base of a tree in the bushes. I really thought he would just be walking through the woods, but instead the other guy followed me there. He’s a creep. The guy in my memory, or dream—rather, isn’t the guy from the woods.”
    Giselle frowned at me. “You really have the worst taste in guys. First you like Blake, blech, and then this crazy stalker who tries to kill us, and all the while Shane is in front of you, and you feel nothing more than friendly love.”
    “ It’s not the same guy—I swear. What did the doctor say?”
    She shook her head. “I can’t seem to shake it. My bile ducts aren’t healing or something. I am pretty much screwed, Aimes. I think the doctors are talking a donor list.”
    “ What about your parents?”
    “ My mom came back. I guess she and my dad haven’t been in love for a long time. So she decided to Internet date and met some guy. She brought him here. She’s living in the city with him.” Her face filled with shame as mine filled with shock and disgust.
    I gasped, “Internet guy?”
    She nodded. “Yeah, it was weird. Creepy bastard, he patted my leg, all high up on the thigh and said he always wanted a daughter. I threw up on him.” She burst out laughing.
    “ Oh my God. Your mom has met a ped on the Internet. Giselle, I’m thinking we need a young priest and an old priest.”
    Giselle laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I know, right?”
    “ It’s from the exorcist. I mean I think we're cursed. At least you barfed on him—what a nasty pig.”
    “ God is mad at us for something, Aimes, ‘cause this has been the worst year of my life.” She was still laughing, but I could swear I heard a sob.
    I agreed, shivering. “Yes, it has. The cop who was with my mom while she died, is the corporal on our case. I can tell he wants to talk to me.”
    “ Oh, that’s too creepy. Don’t they get transferred out ever?”
    I shook my head. “I don’t know how it works.”
    “ I think I’m going to die, Aimee—I’m scared.” Her words were a whisper, hanging in the air stopping my breath.
    I nodded. “I’m scared too.”
    The moment was fleeting.
    Then like the master of her emotions she was, she started chatting about the mundane again. The words still hung in the air like a bad cloud about to pour down on us, but we chose not to look up. Regardless of the fact, we both knew it was impending doom, we fought against it with gossip and giggles.
    I told her I needed a dress for spring formal. It made her misty eyed, as she told me to take the dress she had bought; someone should get some use out of it. I tried to argue, but it was no use. She wanted me to wear it and I told her I would be honored. For some strange reason, I loved this girl, with all of my heart. She was the sister, I should have had. We lay on her bed together talking and feeling the need for hope in our despair-filled voices.
    “ If I grow up and marry a rich man like I plan to, I’m totally making him donate all his money to this place.” She giggled, but I knew better than to see anything beyond the IF in the story.
    She started to fall asleep, so I left her. I sent my dad a text, saying I was leaving and walked down to the elevator and climbed on. I wanted to cry, but I knew it wouldn’t change anything. She was dying and our would-be murderer was stalking me.
    I stepped off the elevator to my dad's tired face.
    “ Hungry, kiddo?” he asked as he put an arm around my shoulders.
    “ No, I want to go to bed. Giselle’s mom is dating an Internet pervert. He’s an actual ped. Do you think we’re cursed, Dad?”
    “ I’m starting to wonder.” His response floored me. My dad was a man of science, but even he, was starting to become concerned about our little town.
    The drive home the next day, was not nearly as painful. I napped until I woke to my phone making a ping. A text message had come in. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the phone to see a message from Shane.
    ‘ Hurry home, I’m getting lonely.’
    I looked around at the gas station, seeing we were halfway home. I could see my dad inside paying for the gas and no doubt getting snacks.
    I messaged him back. ‘Giselle is sick, very sick.’
    My phone rang. “Hello.”
    Shane’s voice sounded concerned. “What do you mean?”
    “ She’s dying. Liver failure. Shane, I can't take it.”
    “ Oh my God. What can we do?”
    “ She needs a donor...