Eris is your average sixteen year old girl living in a small, heavily wooded town named Pauwau. Quiet and reserved, Eris is able to hide her gift that she counted as a curse. She is able to speak to the dead. What will Eris do, though, when she encounters a malevolent spirit that might not be a dead human but a living demon? What will she do when she discovers even more gifts that she never knew about? How will she protect the ones she loves from something who wishes her dead?..
Looking over, I caught a glimpse of Erica hanging motionless upside-down. A sob clogged my throat, and I reached at the seatbelt around my waist. The lock mechanism unclipped. My arms sponged my fall into the broken glass beneath me, and I began my work on Erica's seatbelt. She fell down with a thud, and I pulled her so she was lying on her back. My hands clapped down on her cheeks, yet there was no movement.
"Erica." I moaned. I quickly shook her shoulders. I listened and heard a car pass by not too far above us. Then I quickly recalled the incident that had taken place. I wasn't sure how long ago that had been. I felt liquid running down my face, and it took a little while before I came to the conclusion that it had just been tears. I pulled myself out of the beat up truck and shakily stood to my feet. The rain beat down on me like fists as I climbed up the slippery, muddy hill.
As I reached the top and walked to the middle of the road, I looked left and right for car lights. The closest house was thirty minutes away, and the only hope of a car passing was slim since the last car I had heard had only been three minutes ago. I tried to jog down the road, but my leg was throbbing. Sobs escaped from my throat. This could not be happening again. I was begging God that Erica was okay in the truck eight feet below. There were no voices, and that made me feel even more isolated. It was horrifying.
A few minutes pass when I hear the sound of tears rolling against the wet pavement behind me. I started running toward the sound and wildly waving my arms. Only a few short seconds later, a car slowed to a stop in front of me. I was crying uncontrollably, and I ran to the driver's side door. The window was slowly rolled down, and a man's face came into view.
"Please, help. My friend and I crashed, and she's unconscious. Please, just call an ambulance," I begged. The man picked up his cell phone and placed the call that would end up saving my best friend's life.
"When will she be able to leave?" my dad asked the doctor.
"None of her injuries are too serious, but we'll keep her for the rest of the night just to keep an eye on her. Then, in the morning, we'll check her out." The doctor looked over to me and then back to my father.
"Okay, thank you," my dad mumbled. They both believed I was asleep, so my father left and the doctor followed.
The man had called the police, and I had shown him where Erica was. He helped me pull her out of the ditch and next to his car. After that, the waiting became a blur. Sooner, or maybe it was later, than expected the police showed up with an ambulance. They lifted Erica onto a gurney and told me to sit in the ambulance with her. The ride was also a blur, I only remember the paramedic cleaning the mud away from my wounds and putting gauze around the deep cuts, which I ended up needing seventeen stitches in total: ten in my right arm, four on the left side of my neck, and three on my stomach right below my belly button. The white noise had taken over my mind and made everything fuzzy. It was okay, though, I didn't really want to remember the night I almost killed my best friend.
All because of a boy standing in the middle of the road.
A boy who looked a lot like Hadrian.