Suspicious, paranoid, overly cautious and neurotic
Welcome to Alaina Parker's world.
Chapter 1
Alaina’s heart pounded through her chest
like a jack hammer. Her breathing was short and strained as if filtered through
a straw. She laid there; eyes heavy and
unwilling to open. Sweat had accumulated around her neck, on her chest and on
the lower half of her plump baby-soft skin.
She was ill-prepared to discover if the torrid events were real or
nothing more than a disgusting dream.
She slowly released her clenched eyelids.
A sliver of light made its way into her pitch black bedroom reassuring her that
there was no truth to where her subconscious had taken her. She erected herself quickly in her bed and
leaned against the wooden headboard. Her
white down comforter added to the incineration that her body felt. Using the
corner of her blanket, she wiped her sweaty face and neck before flinging it to
the foot of the bed. She hesitantly
turned to the clock positioned on her nightstand where it revealed the time—four am .
Three consecutive days of waking up early in a pool of sweat was
infuriating.
This is the worst one yet, she thought to herself. The pesky switch to the lamp continued
to dodge her reach, further aggravating her. The sound of glass crashing to the
floor echoed throughout her nine-hundred square feet condo.
“Crap!
You’re so stupid,” Alaina said aloud.
She finally caught hold of the gold chain
and gave it a gentle tug. The flood of light revealed an impeccably decorated
bedroom —coral colored walls, black bamboo floors, a weathered book shelf
filled with her favorite books, and wall art created by various local artists.
Her brain rattled and her thoughts took off in a million different
directions much like the shattered glass that now lay on her floor. She
returned her head to the pillow, feeling disgusted. Her eyes followed the
circular motion of the oscillating ceiling fan. Frustrated and weary, Alaina hoisted
herself out of bed and carefully circumvented the object of her current
distress.
Except for her heavy footsteps the place
was completely silent. Still she felt as if she was being studied—a stalker, a
spy or perhaps the eyes of a killer following her. The possibility wasn’t at
all absurd given the events from her past.
But the probability was highly unlikely.
Alaina’s inquisitive nature and sharp
intuition was what made her successful at her job. She was consistently rewarded
for being a top performer. From day one, URS drilled into their employee’s the rules
for security protocol. These regulations
fit nicely in Alaina’s world and were a mere extension of her own set of
self-imposed parameters. They gave her life stability and reassured her that
she was now in control.
Contributing to her suspicious nature was
a healthy dose of self consciousness, directed squarely toward her jiggling
butt and thick thighs. She felt their involuntary movement as she teetered down
the half lit hallway—her blue nightgown swaying behind her like the American
flag. Alaina reached inside her neatly packed closet to retrieve a small lobby
broom and dust pan.
She returned to the bedroom and snatched
off the rest of her scarf that as a result of her nightmare had gone
cock-eyed. Her black wavy, hair bounced
out and rested just past her bra line. Her mother’s Latino descent endowed her
with olive undertones and envious hair, making up for the paunchy package that
she had also been dealt.
Life in the Parker family was anything but
predictable. Being the only child offered no solutions to her lack of
friends. Her mother, Josephina, stepped in
and provided the social interaction that Alaina needed. Alaina’s whimsical
world of midnight hide-and-seek, whipped crème casserole, and unexcused absences came
to a screeching halt the day her father died.
Uncle Martin and his family lived in a
typical middle class neighborhood that was forty minutes away but worlds apart.
When Alaina was sent to live with them she quickly learned who was in
charge. Uncle Martin was the king of his
holy castle, assigning, scheduling and praying his family into submission. Gone were the days of tent building,
star-gazing and Pig Latin classes. Uncle Martin and Aunt Rachel stressed the
importance of family, church, school and chores; in that order
“Eleven
year olds do not set their own bedtime,” he would remind her.
Like a well-trained soldier, Alaina eventually
fell in line with his odd set of instructions. His rules certainly gave her
life order and molded her into a well-disciplined ‘contributing member of
society’. It wasn’t until her untimely
discovery of Uncle Martin’s distressing secret that she began to question his
teachings.
Alaina
swept up the last few pieces of glass and damp mopped the floor to capture the
smaller shards. She plopped down on the
bed, restless and confused. Her reprieve from the cause of her interrupted
sleep had left. She was drawn to a place she dreaded, a place where disturbing
thoughts invaded her saneness.
Alaina, when you feel like your world no longer makes sense, get
it out of your head and give it to the paper gods, her mother would say.
She riffled through her lower drawer and
pulled out her blue journal. The hardback
cover was unevenly faded and the corners slightly bent. Still it remained in
pretty good condition even after all these years. The date of her last entry
was on her twenty-first birthday. It
read October 2005.
Wow! It’s been seven years, she thought.
She traced her hands alongside the top of
the journal and felt the silver stitching that spelled out her name. Paging
through each entry, she finally landed on a blank sheet. Her mind struggled
with whether to commit the words to paper. Until now she dared not write it
down.
She grabbed the pen, pulled the top off
and uneasily wrote:
I have got to stop this.
Right now! These crazy dreams that leap into my subconscious are driving
me crazy. I don’t know where they are
coming from and they make no sense.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so stingy with Kyle, making every excuse in
the book to not show him my body. I’m
28 years old without a prospect in sight.
So where is my soul mate? Maybe his absence is the reason why my mind
keeps going there. I don’t like women. I’ve never liked women. This has got to
stop!
Shadows due out fall 2012
Please leave your comments here or on the Shadows facebook page.
https://www.facebook.com/Shadowsthenovel.
Thank you.
https://www.facebook.com/Shadowsthenovel.
Thank you.
