667: Issue #2 "Activation"
11: Violet Eve

Violet Eve

It was dark by the time we left and Missy still hadn’t told me where we were going; she kept saying that it was Jeremy’s surprise.

The other girls in the limo were beyond rowdy the whole ride to wherever the hell we were going. A winding road led us just out of the city and into the countryside where it twisted around through cypress trees dripping with Spanish moss and culminated in old wrought iron gates.

A cemetery.

Happy birthday to me!

Despite the events of the day, this was a pleasant surprise. Maybe not for your average normal human being, but there was something so peaceful and yet exciting about being amidst the dead. I had visited many a historic and ancient cemetery in Ireland and the surrounding area, but I had never seen a cemetery like this. All of the graves were in above ground mausoleums and crypts because of the flooding in the area and the swampy marshlands; no one was buried underground here.

“A cemetery?” I breathed as the limo pulled up to the gates and I tried to desperately peer out the windows to see where we were.

Missy noticed my interest among the girls chattering and passing around glasses of champagne. She hit the button for the sunroof and I was able to straddle the seat and poke my head through.

I could hear music and see lights waving in the air as they illuminated the darkened night around the gates.

We were “fashionably late” as Missy called it and everyone else seemed like they were already within the cemetery, partying like it would be their last night on Earth.

“Surprised?” Missy tugged at my dress and pulled me back down into the limo.

“You knew?” She had apparently known all along; she wanted me to be surprised.

“Of course I knew; it was my idea. Jeremy just organized it all. I remembered how much you used to love trekking out to the family plots to do gravestone rubbings and have picnics. I knew you’d love it.” Missy smiled at me. There she was; my old Missy. The best friend that I spent my childhood and beyond with.

“Thanks, Miss.” I tried not to tear up. As hard as things had been, she always knew how to make them just a little bit better.

“Enough chit chat, we have a birthday to celebrate!” Missy held her glass in the air and everyone clanged their own against hers.

Doors started to open and we all filed out to the gates. A bouncer, the one from the Cat’s Meow, greeted us at the front and gladly let us inside.

I had never seen so many scantily clad women in my life. There were at least three to a man, all past the point of inebriation as they screamed in excitement when they saw Missy. She was quite popular, it seemed.

All of her other friends flocked to her side and began talking at once about the party, their outfits, the drinks…I lost interest.

That little glimpse of the old Missy was gone.

Maybe I needed a drink. I still wasn’t feeling like myself, even if I looked good or not. I spotted a bar that had been set up over near a crypt with the name “Willis” chiseled into the top and bumped my way through the crowd that was dancing in front of the DJ booth. I thought the music was quite good despite my anxiety over the night.

“Double shot of Jameson, please.” I laid my hand out on the top of the glittering bar and waited for the bartender to turn around. He was bobbing his head, engrossed in the music, when he turned to face me.

“Violet?” He exclaimed as he turned around with two shot glasses of whiskey.

It was Nate.

“Nate?” I was just as surprised to see him here myself.

“Look at you; haven’t even been in the city twenty-four hours and you’re already attending exclusive secret parties.” Nate set my shot glasses down and I took one right after the other.

“Yeah.” I breathed, holding up two fingers for another set.

“How did you manage that one?” Nate poured two more and passed them to me.

“It’s—its’ my birthday party…sort of.” I went to take the shot when Nate stopped me and filled the two glasses all the way to the rim.

“This is your party? You—you aren’t Mr. Beaumont’s girlfriend are you?” Nate posted up on the bar, prepared to grill me for information.

“No. My best friend is; we just have the same birthdays.” A downed my other two shots.

“So, is your birthday today?” Nate glanced over at the DJ booth and back to me.

“Tomorrow. All of this was a surprise to me.” A slid the empty glasses back over to him.

Before he could say anything else, an older man sidled up next to me and ordered a gin on the rocks.

“Ah, Violet.”

It was Jeremy. I knew he’d be here, but I had hoped that I could avoid him. There was just something about him that was unsettling to me. While I appreciated the party, I didn’t really want to sit and chat.

“Hello, Jeremy.” I forced a smile and tapped on the bar for another shot.

Nate brought it to me, but before I could take it, Jeremy had his own drink and started to lead me away from the bar.

“What do you think of the party? Missy mentioned that you were fond of cemeteries.” Jeremy led me over to a quiet spot near a plot flanked by two angels…if you could call anything quiet around here. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I am; there are a lot of beautifully haunting ones back home. This one is—incredible, though. I’ve never seen a cemetery in Ireland with plots like these.” I was actually carrying on a conversation with him unintentionally, but I liked to talk about weird things with just about anyone.

“This is Beaumont cemetery sitting on what used to be the Beaumont Plantation; my families original home here in Louisiana,” Jeremy smirked at me. I could see why Missy was attracted to him. The accent was just a bonus.

“Well, it’s beautiful. I’ve always been interested in the past: who we were, how we advanced, what brought us to where we are today. It’s part of why I’m a writer.” I was talking about myself. This felt weird.

“Missy mentioned that you were an author with a few books published already. Do you do well?” Jeremy was talking business with me like I was someone important.

“Oh, I’m hardly an author. I have a few books in my Ghost Prophecy series self-published online. I make mediocre money at best; I’m hoping I’ll find better work around here.” I nodded, wishing I had another drink in my hand.

A woman passed by me with a tray of mimosas; I snatched one up and began sipping.

“Well, you could always work for me. Missy makes plenty of money to live comfortably and then some.” Jeremy leaned into me as he finished his gin.

“You know, I have no idea what it is that you do…Missy never told me.” She hadn’t.

Ever.

Why was that just now striking me as odd?

“An entrepreneur, an investor, a manager— amongst other things. I own and operate over twenty gentleman’s clubs in the Southeast area. We also run a few burlesque shows and several nightclubs.” He entailed to me what he did for a living.

Missy told me she had been dancing. She had come over here to the states on a scholarship for dance, but school hadn’t worked out. She told me she was employed with a company and was making tons of money…

As a stripper.

This wasn’t Missy. Missy had never been one to use her body to get what she wanted, but she didn’t seem like the girl I had known for all those years in Belfast. Exotic dancing was a lucrative profession, but not one for her. What had happened to Missy over here?

“You want me to work for you—doing what?” If he said stripping, I was going to bash him over the head with the plastic cocktail glass in my hand.

“Well, you have something I haven’t seen in my girls—natural hair, natural body, innocent face…you’d make a killing. And your style is so unique—I think you could draw all new clientele.” Jeremy’s smile widened as he sized me up in the strobe light.

What the fuck?

Stripping wasn’t my cup of tea… getting naked around anyone wasn’t either.

Who the hell did he think he was, asking me to become one of his dancers when he hardly knew me? I told him I was a writer…a very introverted, awkward as fuck, writer.

“I’m good.” I wanted to tear him a new arsehole, but I couldn’t find the words.

This was not what I had expected, nor planned. I came here to start a new life, not become a stripper and get wrapped up in whatever mess Missy was in. I realized in the limo ride over that she had become quite a fan of a drug that had the same name as a certain carbonated beverage.

“Think about it, won’t you? I’m sure it isn’t what you want to be doing right now, but you could take all that money you make and invest it in your books.” Jeremy chewed on a partially melted ice cube.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be interested, but thank you for the offer.” I was polite but hoped that I had made myself clear.

“Too bad. Enjoy yourself, but be back here at midnight; I have something planned for the birthday hour.” Jeremy winked and bowed out of our conversation.

I breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he left me alone with the rest of the party goers.

What just happened?

Here I am, wandering around this new city with some naïve expectations as to what my new life was going to be like.

Instead, things were vastly different.

I strolled over to a crumbling statue, weather worn and lichen covered, and paused as I continued to think about everything.

On my first night here, I had almost been—sexually assaulted and possibly killed, Missy had been all flippant and nonplussed by the goings on around her, that orb had shown me some terrifying things, Jeremy propositioned me to dance naked for his company, and then there was Adam…

There was already enough on my plate and I didn’t need this.

I hadn’t realized that I had been staring into the blinding lights of the DJ booth, the music reverberating around me as people seemed to dance in slow motion. My chest felt tight and my arm started to tingle as I took in heavy breaths, but never felt like I was getting enough oxygen.

I was starting to have a panic attack.

There was no way I could calm down here amidst the chaos, so I decided a late night cemetery stroll would do me good.

I didn’t even know what time it was, but I didn’t care; I needed to get the hell away from all the crap that had just surfaced.

The path I was on led around the back of the cemetery. Since the festivities seemed to be centered at the front of the graveyard, this direction would have fewer people to make me panic more or get in my way.

I clutched at my chest as I hobbled down the dirt path in a direction unknown.

(*)

I found myself in the far back of the cemetery. The music was but an echo back here and the lack of artificial lighting made it possible to view a heaven smattered with a trillion stars.

This is what I did when I was upset or anxiety reared its ugly head: I’d take to nature to heal me, to calm me down.

Mum had always been a very spiritual person who was connected with the Earth, and she had passed that trait on to me. Nature and times before our own featured heavily in my writing, but none of the content that was published. I wrote paranormal romances and historical fiction with a paranormal twist—but I wanted to branch out. New Orleans was supposed to help me finish up Ghost Prophecies, which was New Adult fiction, and then finally branch out to Adult Urban Fantasy and Adult Romance—just Fiction for adults. I was going to be thirty after all.

“What the fuck am I doing with my life?” I scolded myself aloud as I sat down on a rough stone bench, my hand still over my heart.

This wasn’t what I had in mind for my birthday, either. I loved the atmosphere of being surrounded by those that had lived before me, but I wasn’t a live people person. To say that I was shy or quiet was an understatement—I was a full-blown introvert. Life just worked better for me that way.

I wanted to be home—real home—with a hot cuppa and a good book, playing the classics on the radio as I silently rang in my thirties. Just another night alone.

But here I sat, dressed up far nicer than I had ever been in my life, alone on my soon-to-be thirtieth birthday.

I got the alone part right at least.

I was a sad creature; I could feel it deep inside me. I had done nothing with my life; nothing to show for the good woman my mother tried to raise me to be. All by herself, I might add.

I had dropped out of school, decided that I wanted to be a writer and spent the better part of my later twenties working menial jobs with no benefits while I struggled to be the author that I so desperately wanted to become.

I not only wasted good years of my own life, but my mother’s too. I tried to take care of her, tried to keep her from them. I had thought she was paranoid at first, but some things just didn’t make sense.

My time was so preoccupied with a fantasy world that I forgot about reality and let my own mother die because of my carelessness.

I deserved to be alone on this milestone; it was my punishment for the poor decisions that I had made.

When the clock chimed midnight, I wouldn’t be any different than I was at this moment…

Still a fucking loser doing nothing with my life.

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