Who is Audrey Wickersham? Read online

  Who Is Audrey Wickersham?

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, locales, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Sara Shrieves

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2012

  ISBN 978-1479112357

  www.SaraShrieves.com

  For the real Hulk and Audrey in my life

  I really want to thank the people that have helped with everything I needed in order to get my book self-published.

  First I want to thank my incredibly talented brother in-law, Cameron Crest (of CrestWebServices.com) whose amazing skills as a web designer gave me both of my sites: sarashrieves.com and whoisaudrey.net. He was extremely patient with me throughout the entire process and put up with all of my annoying requests and changes. He even designed the cover for my book which I think is just awesome. And of course I want to thank my sister, Nora, who is my constant cheerleader, who I love very much.

  I also want to thank one of my closest friends, James Currie, for the artwork that he did for the cover. It has now become the logo for this book, and all of the other books in the series to come. It gave us the foundation of what to work with for the cover design and he is an amazing artist (whether he wants to admit it or not).

  And last but not least, I want to thank my husband (Hulk), who has done so much for me since I started writing this book, and continues to do so much I don't think I'll ever be able to stop thanking him. He is my biggest supporter and I don't know what I would do without him.

  ~Sara Shrieves

  P.S. Kayli of course you're on this list too, you helped me inspire most of the humor, "Audrey".

  Chapter 1

  I thought being weird and non-existent (at least to other kids in my school) would always keep me out of trouble…for the most part. I avoided most standard teen activities like the plague; the mall, movie theaters on a Friday night, parties that I was never really invited to anyway, etc. Simple. Now, however, I look back and wonder why I couldn’t have tried a little harder to go along with everyone else. Why was I always so damn stubborn? If I had just done what was expected of me, maybe I wouldn’t be standing where I am right now, which is at the top of a cliff overlooking the greater part of Los Angeles. And it’s not to take in the scenery. I’m about to be beheaded and thrown over the edge of this thing.

  My name is Audrey Wickersham. I live in Sherman Oaks, California, and I was born and raised here. I guess you would call me a Valley Girl. I am fifteen years old (almost sixteen) and I love every second I get when I’m not in school. Don’t get me wrong, learning is great and all and I understand the importance of education, blah, blah, blah. But I hate the place. The other students you have to put up with (the guys in skinny jeans…ugh), the stuffy halls and horrible cafeteria food...so many things to hate.

  I truly love wandering up and down Ventura Boulevard, browsing the thrift stores and finding some funky treasure, going into the coffee shops (that aren’t Starbucks) and people watching. You don’t see things in school like you do when you’re out wandering Ventura. There are a ton of crazy characters. My favorite place to hang out and browse around though is a place called The Magick Eye. It’s a bookstore/metaphysical shop/crazy ass weird place with so much cool stuff to look at and keep you entertained.

  When you walk in you are greeted by the comforting fragrance of incense. And it’s not some nasty incense. It’s always something soothing and mild. They know how to choose it here. And the shop is dimly lit and jammed with tons of stuff. But it’s well organized at the same time. Every place your eye falls, it’s entertained.

  There is always a mixture of cute guys and funky chicks working the counter too, so that’s a plus. And they’re nice and haven’t ever kicked me out...yet. They just let me browse. I come in a few times a week, wave, and then peruse the store as usual. I have been building my way up to purchasing some sort of spell.

  Okay, let me set things straight. I’m neither a Wiccan…nor am I trying to be a Witch. (And yes, there is a difference.) I have just always had an interest in the occult. I love horror movies, and I totally admire anything Rob Zombie does, you know? I’ve seen all of the movies you can about witchcraft (the good, the bad and the total trash, which I love). Same with any other type about vampires, zombies, werewolves, etc. I am a worshipper at the altar of all things supernatural. I will also read any books I can get my hands on having to do with the same topics; as well as a few other genres thrown in here and there.

  So anyway, I want to try a spell. What kind of a spell, I don’t really know yet. A love spell? No way. Not interested in that at all, thank you. Money…? Nah. That seems like something everyone would try to do. And obviously, if it worked…we would have a lot more Bill Gates running around, wouldn’t we? I’m thinking low key is the way to go. Maybe that’s why people hang on to this whole idea of spells and magick, because if you’re subtle and you don’t ask for much, it may actually work for you. At least, that’s what I’m hoping it will be like.

  I’m looking up and down the shelves, trying to see if something jumps out at me, when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around in surprise, expecting it to be one of the clerks asking what in the hell I am doing (I’ve been in this back corner for at least forty minutes now), and am startled to see a small older woman, dressed similar to a Gypsy. Actually, I guess you could say she was a Gypsy.

  “Hello,” I said, smiling at her. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Are you looking for anything in particular?” she asked me. Her voice was high pitched and sort of raspy too. And she was so small, smaller than I am. I mean I’m not that short, but I’m pretty petite. This woman made me feel like an oaf.

  “Well…” I thought about shrugging it off and saying no thanks, and just walking out of the store. But I really wanted to just suck it up and try a spell already. I had been waiting for so long now. And she seemed friendly enough. Hell, she was a Gypsy. That seemed like the perfect person to help me pick a spell.

  “I am actually not sure what I want. Something light, I guess?” I gave her my crooked, apologetic grin, because I had no idea of how else to phrase it. But she seemed to catch my meaning.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” She began walking out of the area of the pre-packaged spells, and I hesitated only a moment before following her. I was already in it mentally. No point in delaying anymore.

  She went towards the front of the store and I thought maybe she was going to take me over to another shelf or area that I didn’t know about or just hadn’t discovered yet. I didn’t know how that would be possible though, considering I knew every square inch of this store. Instead, she headed out the front door, towards the street. I was confused so I called out, “Ma’am!” to her and she stopped and turned to look back at me, with a surprised little “oh” forming on her mouth.

  “'Ma’am'? No one here calls me 'Ma’am'. You may call me Agnes. Now, follow me.” And with that, she turned and started walking down the sidewalk to the right, away from Magick Eye. I could only follow her.

  We walked about twenty paces and then she abruptly stopped and turned into another entryway. I, of course, continued to follow her, but I looked above the door as we entered and realized that it was still Magick Ey
e that we were walking into.

  “What is this? We’re still in Magick Eye but I’ve never been over here before.”

  I stopped suddenly as I stepped fully into the shop and looked around. This side of the shop looked completely different than the other side. It was definitely not meant for the average customer. Its walls were covered with shelves which held all sorts of amazing things. Jars filled with weird, bubbling liquids. Strange, squirming things…powders, and boxes that must have contained many things I wouldn’t have any idea of what to do with. I couldn’t believe I’d never paid attention and seen that entryway before. In the center of the shop was a large wooden plank table with a variety of small, metal bowls on it. I didn’t really know what to call them, but they looked familiar. They had the residues of powders in them. I didn’t know what to make of everything. My eyes grew wider with everything I saw.

  “Something light, you said?” Agnes spoke and it made me jump.

  “What?” I jerked around and faced her. She was smiling at me warmly, and now she was standing over near a wall of shelves to the right that held several jars filled with multiple colored powders.

  “Umm, yes. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t want to get in over my head.” I looked back over quickly at the wall which held the weird squiggly stuff. I could have sworn things were moving around more as we talked.

  “Does anyone else come over to this part of the store?” I asked her.

  “No dear, just me. This part of the store is called the annex. This is where the spells are made that you see packaged on the other side of the shop. But I also make custom spells, when I am asked to.” She winked at me, and gave me her warm smile again. It comforted me, and I smiled back at her.

  She began pulling different jars of powder off of the wall, quickly and with purpose. I tried to make sense out of it, by walking over and seeing if there were labels I could read or anything. The jars each had a twig or leaf taped to them, and nothing else. Not much help. This lady was serious.

  I kept glancing back at one particular jar over on the squiggly wall, as I had begun to refer to it in my mind. It almost seemed to be calling out to me. I walked slowly over to it and looked up close. It was a pretty cloudy jar, but I knew there was something moving inside of it. I practically had my nose touching the thing when Agnes called out, “Don’t!”

  She surprised me and I turned towards her as I also raised my hand to my chest in surprise, even though I hadn’t been touching the jar. It’s that natural reaction throttled into you during your childhood years though I guess, to pull your hand away just in case you may have been touching something. Well it had the opposite effect and I knocked the jar off of the shelf. And of course, to me, all of this happened in slow motion. The jar flew up; the lid fell off as it tilted forward and began spilling its contents onto the front of my body. Naturally I tried catching the whole thing, while all of the fluids and squiggly stuff inside tumbled directly into my open and waiting mouth, and down my chest. Some got into my eyes as well and I began to scream. It burned like fire and by the time the jar crashed to the ground I was stumbling backwards, tearing at my face, feeling things crawling on me…trying to get down my throat. They were working their way down my shirt, biting me. I fell down and was trying to rip my top off. I needed to get these things off of me. Crap. They were under my bra. This was definitely the most horrifying thing that could have ever happened to me. Before this I thought I was most terrified of clowns, or even just (secretly) moths.

  I was literally on the verge of ripping off my bra to wipe away all of the liquid and whatever else there was on me, when I suddenly felt Agnes rubbing a towel over me. She had also begun saying something to me in a soothing tone. I thought at first she was just trying to calm me down, then as I listened more I realized she was chanting something under her breath. This somehow amplified my terror and I began screaming again.

  “Audrey! You need to be quiet!” she yelled over my screaming. “You’re only making it worse with your wailing, child. It is making the creatures more active.”

  This immediately shut me up. I brought my screaming down to a slight muffled whine and started trying to get up. It felt like my whole body was on fire. My eyes and tongue especially were throbbing. “What is this Agnes?!” I said, screeching. I sounded like I had a bunch of cotton shoved into my mouth. “Why do I feel like I’m bursting into flames? Oh my gosh just get this off of me…please!”

  I think at that point I sort of blacked out or just went into another zone or something. The next thing I knew I was naked in a small stand-up shower. I was sitting down with my knees bent up and my face was resting on them.

  The water was pouring over me and it was lukewarm. I started trying to slide up the wall using my hands, because I was still in shock and I could not get a good grip with my feet. They kept sliding out of the shower and this really freaked me out because I didn’t know what was on the other side of the curtain. Anything could reach out and grab me. So I flailed around for a bit until I got my feet underneath me, and then I turned off the water. “Agnes?” I called out.

  “Yes dear, I’m right here.”

  I peeked out the side of the shower curtain and saw Agnes sitting in a big comfy chair next to a desk with an old clunky typewriter placed in the center of it, with papers scattered all around the desk. The room was filled with boxes otherwise. It looked like a storage area with an office sort of thrown in as an afterthought. “Umm, where am I?”

  “You’re in my office dear. Towel?” She got up and grabbed something from a closet that I couldn’t fully see.

  “Yes, please,” I said. I was feeling so disoriented and I had no clue what time it was. “So, how long have I been in here?”

  “Well, as you know, you were in the shop itself for a little over an hour. In the shower though, about thirty minutes? The Zomorwai took a lot out of you.”

  “The…what? What in the hell are the Zomorwhatdoyoucallem?” I fumbled for the towel and got it from her hands. I began drying off in the shower while Agnes spoke to me about what she called the Zomorwai.

  “They are an infectious worm that came from a region of Romania. They have spread slowly throughout the world, but they have been very well contained…for the most part. Of course there are the occasional accidents, such as yourself.” She looked at my face as I peeked out again to look at her in horror at that statement, and she began speaking faster to cut off any response I may have had. “But it’s very rare of course! Nothing to be scared of. Tell me how you feel right now.”

  I climbed out of the shower and stood in front of her, awkwardly wrapped in the towel she had given me. “Well, right now I feel pretty vulnerable. And of course terrified! After that… Can I have my clothes?”

  “Oh no, they had to be destroyed dear. I’m so sorry. We can take no chance of the Zomorwai spreading. I got this for you though.” She turned around and grabbed something that had been lying on the arm of her chair which I hadn’t noticed, and handed over a long dress that looked like it was made out of a quilt. One of those patchwork dresses I think they were called. Not really my style and I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that she had just said she had burned my clothes. Damn. I loved my clothes. I’m not shallow or anything, but the clothes I do have I really take the time to pick out, and I wear them until they practically fall off my body. I sighed mentally.

  “Err…thanks. Is there somewhere I can…” I gestured down at myself, indicating I had to become fully naked at some point. I shifted the towel awkwardly around me.

  “Oh! Yes, of course.” She led me over to the back corner of the room where there was a red beaded curtain hanging down, and pulled it aside. This room seemed much more cozy and private. It was filled with several pillows and the walls were lined with books and it was lit by a few old lamps scattered around as well as some candles here and there. The seating was mainly the pillows, except for one small couch. I looked back at Agnes and smiled gratefully, and th
en entered the room. I dried out the rest of my hair (there was a lot of it) and threw the dress on afterwards. No big mirrors around to see what I looked like, so I guess I just had to assume my face looked like my arms. They were red and irritated, with little tiny bite marks. They seemed to be fading, but I think that may have just been wishful thinking. I glanced around the room one more time and finally spotted a small mirror in the corner. I went over to it and was shocked to see that my face was completely unmarked. In fact, it looked almost luminescent. “Very weird…” I mumbled. I messed with my hair for a minute, it’s curly and long so it drives me crazy, and then I walked out to Agnes.

  “Well! You look darling.” She smiled at me and handed me a pair of cloth Chinese shoes; the little Mary Jane ones. At least they were cute I guess.

  “Where are my boots? You didn’t have to destroy those too, did you?” I frowned slightly. My boots were one of my favorite things. I wore them with almost everything, to my dad’s surprise. He had purchased them for me on a whim from an army surplus store when I turned fourteen and they had been one of my favorite things that I owned ever since.

  “Oh no, they’re fine; just drying out still. I had to wash them out just in case. They should be good as new when they dry though.” She gave me her warm smile and walked me over to her desk. “Sit down here.” She guided me to the big comfy chair that sat beside her desk, and she plopped down into a little rolling chair behind it.

  “So…what now?” I asked her.

  She looked at me seriously then and asked me, “How do you feel?”

  I thought about it before answering. My arms still felt like they were burning a little bit, but my head actually felt fine. My chest (where I was sure I had also been bitten) was only slightly tingly. “I guess I’m okay. My face seems to have no marks though, isn’t that strange?”