Not For Mortal Eyes

Chapter 1
Thirteen words. The words that started it all.
The words no child ever wants to hear.
The morning was a cold, foreboding shade of gray, almost as if nature knew what was to come and mourned the future events. Lexi Annandale was huddled the corner of her worn out couch with a fluffy pink duvet wrapped all the way around herself. Game boards, books, sports magazines covered almost every inch of the Annandale’s wood paneled living room. A fireplace of glowing coal and burnt wood did little to warm the large area.
I would kill for something to do, she thought glumly and pulled the enormous blanket tighter around her strong swimmer’s shoulders. Her bright green eyes flickered at the digital display clock under her cable box: 4:46 A.M.
Lexi briefly debated reading a magazine she must’ve flicked through about a hundred times just that night, but realized that would require putting her bare feet on the arctic wooden floors. Her toes wiggled almost involuntarily under the covering, reinforcing how perfectly content they were to sit in the toasty warmth of the blanket. Lexi yawned and reached for the remote. Hopefully the low hum of the television would block out the frantic thoughts that threatened to push themselves to the forefront of her mind. 
It was something of a tradition for Lexi to stay up on the last day of her parents’ camping escapades and wait for their arrival. She belonged to a family of jocks that felt more at home hiking and skiing down the tallest mountains and “being one with nature” than socializing with people. Lexi would’ve happily come along too, except for that annoying thing she had to attend nearly every day. Most people called it school. Lexi had another name for it.
Torture.
She had a lot of friends and did well in school. She was a star athlete and came up number one in pretty much every sport she did. But something about the whole place felt constricting. Smothering. Like the red brick buildings and concrete classrooms were closing in, creeping in a little bit farther each day until they finally trapped her. Lexi felt her breathing and heartbeat spike just thinking about it.
Either way, she had to go for six more years and there was nothing short of dropping out or failing she could do about it.
And if there was anything Lexi knew about herself, it was that failure was not an option.
The soft snores of the overnight baby sitter, Tanya, floated through the partially open guest room door, forcing Lexi to take a deep breath and ask the question that had been buzzing around her head like a lost bee for the past two hours.
Where were her parents?
As if some divine force heard her unspoken inquiry, the door bell chimed. Forgetting all about the frozen floors, Lexi threw off the heavy duvet and sprang across the piles of books and games. Her body brimmed with delight from her dark blue painted toenails all the way to her chocolate brown hair, tingling with anticipation. She could just imagine how warm their embrace would feel after a cold week without them. She knew exactly what they would say too: “Hey there, Lex. Been holding down the fort since we were gone?” her dad would ask, and then ruffle her hair affectionately. Then her mom would laugh a tinkling, bubbly laugh and say, “She holds down the fort even when we’re here.”
Lexi thought about that and smiled. It would all be worth it; the days without them, the overnight wait, the heavy bags and dark circles she was sure to get….
Lexi eagerly flung open the door before freezing in place. And not because the floors were so cold.
Two people were standing ramrod straight at the threshold, but they were definitely not her parents.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air before Lexi registered with a heavy wave of disappointment that her parents weren’t home after all.
“Hello,” said the man in a no nonsense type voice. He was dressed in an expensive two piece suit and matching black loafers. A chrome briefcase dangled from his left hand. A woman stood beside him, a good four inches taller than him and a physique that Lexi pinpointed right away as in supremely excellent shape. Her clothes could’ve been from another time period. Fine, almost unearthly material and Greek-like drapery hung from her shoulders and swept the ground.
“Hi,” Lexis said uneasily. She didn’t like the way they were looking at her. Almost like they felt sorry for her. Pitied her….
Lexi checked her outfit and sniffed her clothes. She didn’t look that bad, did she?
“Here. Our deepest condolences are passed to you,” the woman said, and gave her a single sheet of paper, gazing down at Lexi with big sad eyes. Eyes that look a lot like my mother’s, Lexi noted.
Lexi glanced at the sheet of paper and froze. She let out a strangled gasp, but the noise died in her throat. The world spun and moved under her feet until suddenly she found herself in the arms of the woman who expertly caught Lexi before she hit the ground. Lexi almost didn’t notice; her eyes were transfixed on the page hypnotically, like the words would magically change if she stared long enough.
Thirteen words. The words that started it all.
The words no child wants to hear.
The only words that echoed in Lexi’s head.

We regret to inform you of the deaths of Mrs. and Mr. Annandale….           

***

The sky unleashed a torrent of water on the earth below it, raindrops streaming down Lexi’s window panes like tears. It was as if the sky were crying with her, aching and letting lose everything it had on a world that thought it fair to take away the two people she cared most about.
Gone.
Like, forever.
Tanya, the super annoying babysitter that mostly pestered Lexi, prepared breakfast in complete silence. Even someone as oblique as her could take a hint.
The sizzling of bacon on the hot skillet and the ticking of the clock was painfully loud in Lexi’s ears.
“Breakfast,” Tanya said softly, placing the plate gently in front of Lexi. Every move she made, every word she said, was calculated, like Tanya was afraid if she so much as breathed on the fragile girl slumped comatose in front of her, she would shatter into a gazillion pieces.
A definite possibility.
“Not hungry,” Lexi mumbled. Her voice, her body, all seemed small and far away. Like she was looking through the wrong end of a very powerful telescope. Tanya sat in the chair opposite her at their wooden kitchen table.
“You need to eat something,” Tanya prompted and pushed the dish of over-cooked bacon and under-cooked omelets closer to Lexi.
No, what Lexi needed was to hear was the sparkly, bell-like laugh of her mother. What Lexis needed was the strong, but gentle arms of her father. What Lexi needed was the door to swing open, revealing two healthy, smiling, alive parents. Food was the last thing on her mind.
“I’m just going to sleep. I’m tired,” Lexi said detachedly. It was true. It had been a long night. Lexi shuffled out of the kitchen and into her wood paneled living room. The room was showered with magazines and board games. Tears gathered at the corners of her misty green eyes.
Just when she thought she exhausted her repertoire of tears.
How could it have been only a few hours ago that she had sat on that very couch, occupying her time with things that seemed so captivating just a while ago, and waiting all night for parents that went on a camping trip but would never return?
Lexi’s fingers brushed against the wooden wall to her right, taken back to when she was caught scribbling on it when she was younger. The clumsily drawn picture of a daisy and an orange sun and three happy stick figures smiled from under her fingertips, so precious, according to her mother, that it would be heartbreaking to wash it off.  Her eyes mechanically drifted to the orange curtains she always thought were hideous. Suddenly, orange was an awesome color. Every inch of this house was saturated with memories, pulling her mind in all different directions. It was only a matter of time before they ripped her apart altogether.
Lexi squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to keep it together. If only for them, she thought. Making her way across overturned books and miscellaneous items, she walked towards her room, a low murmuring of voices coming from the study to her right. People—strangers—were currently sitting in her dad’s study, debating her future and deciding her fate. She could be sitting in an orphanage by that time tomorrow for all she knew. Lexi was too worn out to care.
She tripped three times before she crossed the threshold of her large bedroom. She was surprised that it was exactly as she left it. For some reason, Lexi had the impression that it too would change after this totally life altering experience. Lexi slapped the ON button on her glittery blue iCube and sank into her mattress, numb and bleaker than the sky, hoping with all of what was left of her heart that her bed would swallow her up. Soothing melodies and familiar refrains from her playlist pulsed from the speakers.
Lexi absolutely needed music to fall asleep. And not like how some people “needed” soda to stay awake or “needed” chocolate on a daily-basis. Once, she had misplaced her compact boom-box on a family retreat when she was four and could not get a wink of sleep until it was found three hours later at the bottom of her suitcase.
Who was she kidding? Lexi sat, spine curled up against the wooden backboard. Despite the fatigue that seemed to resonate from every tiny little bone in her body, there would be no sleeping today.
She pulled her legs in until they touched her chest. Her room suddenly seemed too big. Or maybe she felt too small.
Alone. So this is what it felt like to be truly alone.
Lexi’s eyes drifted her window, streaked with tears from the sky. A single periwinkle peach blossom stood as a stark contrast against the gray mid-afternoon sky. Despite the vibrant color that seemed to explode from its center, the flower sagged miserably.
Unthinkingly, Lexi grabbed the pot off its resting place and carried it back onto her bed, straddling it with her legs. It smelled sweetly of peaches and summer, an inappropriately happy scent. Lexi’s finger’s trembled. She pinched a petal between her fingers and tugged. It floated breezily onto her thigh.
They are alive, she thought. Hope.
Pluck.
They are not. Give up.
Pluck.
Lexi was sorely tempted to count ahead, but she knew that the spontaneity (rules) of fate required the total number of petals to be unknown. She wasn’t normally superstitious; Lexi had only fallen back on this method once before, when her (make something up). When there was a lot to think about, this simplified things. Two choices. A or B. This or that.
Dead or alive.
“They are,” she whispered and felt for the next petal. By this time, her eyes were squeezed shut. Her fingers brushed against empty air and smooth bedspread.
“Mutilating a flower as exotic as this is a near punishable crime where I come from,” a voice said.
Lexi snapped her eyes open and whipped her head around so fast the world spun.
A figure, close to her age by his voice, leaned against the window sill two feet from her, adorned in a silver cloak that kissed the floor. Lexi couldn’t make out the shadowed eyes hooded underneath the garment, but could almost feel them boring straight into her. He looked perfectly at ease on the precarious ledge, crouched and resting on the balls of his feet. He stroked the blossom’s few remaining petals with reverence before setting it gently onto the window sill.
Lexi sucked in a shallow breath.
“Do not scream,” he said evenly. “I am not here to harm you.” She blinked at the sound of his voice. It had this silky quality, like satin, almost as if each word had been pressed and refined before they left his lips. She pulled her comforter up to her chin, narrow eyed, as if to form a makeshift barrier between herself and the stranger.
Like that would do much good.
Who was he? More, importantly what was he doing in her room and how did he get in here? Her brain sprinted to catch up with her eyes.
Strange, Lexi thought through her alarm. The rain continued to fall steadily, like some giant in the sky was sprinkling the earth with clear beads. Her eyes trailed along his dry cloak, along his dry silk shirt, along his dry, expensive looking trousers, and finally to his shoes, which were, again, perfectly dry. His regal outfit reminded Lexi of a mix between the medieval/ late renaissances period, ancient Greek, and modern day high society. But that wasn’t what froze her stiff.
The stranger didn’t have a drop on him.
Even his cloak was untouched by the rain.
“Who…who are you?” Lexi asked, summoning all the courage and bravado she had into that single sentence. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to work with. She rubbed at her throat and winced at her croaky voice, thrown into deep drastic contrast against his honeyed one.
“That’s not important,” he said curtly. Depended on who you asked, really, Lexi thought.
“What are you doing here? Is it money you want?” she continued. “Because I don’t have anything.” The statement struck home with Lexi the instant she said it.
I don’t have anything.
Even under the shadow of the hood, he looked disgusted.
“I am not a thief. I just wish to talk with you.”
A few beats of silence rolled by as this sunk in.
Initial shock slowly ebbed and was quickly flushed out by anger.
“Look, whoever-you-are! Normal people grab a phone and call the person! Get out of my room, now,” she snarled. “Or I’ll show you how to use a phone—by calling the police.”
He stretched across the window sill, showcasing a lean figure nearly six feet in height. The filtered gray-ish sunlight caught half his face, illuminating his right eye. It was the color of molten gold with sprinkled flecks of silver. Eye contacts? she wondered. He cocked his head forward.
“And say what exactly?”
“Someone is breaking and entering,” Lexi said. “Trespassing. That’s plenty.”
His face remained impassive. Obviously the threat of official intervention didn’t faze him. 
A thousand thoughts scampered around in her head, flitting frantically in the walls of her skull like trapped moths. Screaming was out of the question and obviously not just because he said not to. Tanya made dead people seem like light sleepers. Nothing short of a nuclear holocaust could wake her up and even then, the chances were a little iffy. Some babysitter. She also didn’t have a cell phone, a device she was promised when she turned fourteen in four months. 
Should she try and go get Tanya down the hall? Would he try and stop her? No one she knew, not even athletic adults, could match her sprint. Except for when she was dazed, depressed, and operating on less than six minutes of sleep in the last thirty-six hours. Like she was right now.
But did he have to know that?
Lexi threw off her sheets and drew herself to her full 5’6 height, trying to look as imposing as anyone could in Looney Tunes pajamas. Her fingers curled into fists, ready to show him what twelve years of competitive swimming, seven years of gymnastics, and eight years of pole vault could do for a girl’s right hook.
She narrowed her cat-like emerald eyes. Come get it.
“I’m not going to say it twice. Leave…”
“You are wasting time,” he snapped. His eyes darted towards the window again and morphed briefly into a look of desperation. “You need to leave. Immediately.”
The question mark on Lexi’s expression spoke volumes. Leave? Um, exactly who was in whose house again?
“What?” she sputtered. He sighed like she was being exceptionally slow.
“Listen. I am trying to help you. I am sorry about your parents. Truly, I am. They were good people.” The statement completely disarmed her. Literally. She dropped her fists and staggered against her mattress. “But it will only get worse if you do not do as I say.”
Worse? Lexi thought. Worse how? How could her life get any worse?
“You knew them?” she whispered.
“I knew of them, but not personally. This is just the first chapter of your life, Lexi Annandale. And you will not like the rest of the story.” A hint of urgency crept into his voice. “No one will.”
Her full name. Lexi squinted through bloodshot eyes to see if she could make out the obscured features. Did she know him?
More importantly, how did he know her?
Lexi choked on the flurry of questions and demands scrambling up her throat. All it came out to was a strangled squeal. What was going on?
No matter what lay ahead--and how could this guy tell what was going to happen anyway—this house was hers. Every memory, every event, every scent, every second of her life that took place here was hers. All of it. They were splashed across the walls and stitched into the carpeting. If she was leaving, it would be kicking and screaming or in a coffin.
Lexi shivered and quickly retracted that last part.
“Lexi? Lexi, darling,” Tanya called. Lexi’s head turned towards the door just as it was swung open.
“Tanya,” Lexi breathed, for once not annoyed to see her. Did she get taller?
“You look really awful, Lexi. Like super horrible. Why are you on the floor?” Lexi was pulled awkwardly to her feet, having not even remembered falling from shock. She draped her limp arms over Tanya’s shoulders. Tanya yanked down her bed head, and poked at the dark circles ringing Lexi’s eyes.
“Thanks a lot,” Lexi mumbled.
“Easy there, Lex. Remember that I’m here, ‘kay? I’ll stay here as long as it takes for arrangements to be drawn up.” She crushed Lexi into an uncomfortable hug. But it was warm at least. “You’re food’s in the kitchen unless you wanna order something out.”
“Yeah, um, but I need to tell you something,” Lexi began, pulling out of that hug. Her eyes shot back to the bedside window, latched shut.
He left absolutely soundlessly.
Or was he even there at all?
“Yes?” Tanya prompted.
“Can you lock the windows and doors? You know, it’s…chilly.” Lexi rubbed her bare arms to reinforce the statement. The goose bumps dotting her forearm had nothing to do with the “cold”.
“Dearie, dearie,” she said and raked Lexi’s hair with her fingers once more. “I already do that. Your windows are locked up tight as a Swiss bank vault. I’ll go turn up the heat though.”
Lexi stiffened and mechanically turned towards her window.
Impossible.
The evidence was plain as day. Both windows in her room were locked.
From the inside.
That was it. She was done for the day. Her brain shut down completely. She had hit her max quota for the unexplainable and the unbelievable.
She imagined the guy. Or rather, she was still sleeping and Tanya’s intrusion woke her up. There was one way that she could leave fate to decide once and for all and put her troubled mind at ease. If only temporarily.
Her eyes glanced up at the window sill for her plant. The pot sat exactly where it had been left.
But there was no flower.
It doesn’t matter anyway, she said. It took a few more tries before she could think it with unshakable conviction. She concentrated on the musical notes still floating across the room, forgotten in the last few minutes. The rain slowed to a lazy patter, a soothing background, accompanying the song.
“Sleep well, Misceo” a voice somewhere whispered. It was almost mocking. “It’s the best slumber you’ll get in a while.”