**FEATURED STORY JULY 2018*
**WATTPAD HQ READ OF THE WEEK AUGUST 2018*
**WATTYS 2018 WINNER**
Casey Brogan is on a mission to self-destruct. Whether it's booze, drugs or men, she's spiralling out of control and stepping over the line, to destroy t...
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Breathe. Breathe.
'Are you okay?'
Fuck. Just breathe. Stop staring. Do something.
'I - I...'
I couldn't get the words out. I could see them in my head. I remembered how to form words on my tongue, how each one sounded, but I just couldn't say them.
'Oh dear,' said the Erelim, frowning. 'Are you unwell? Can I get you something?'
'What?'
Of all the things I could have said, and the only word I could push out through my tightened throat was what. It didn't even sound much like what either. More like a mouse-like squeak that vaguely started with the letter W.
What's wrong with its eyes?
The Erelim's eyes looked, well, just like eyes. Normal human eyes, with crow's feet puckering the skin at the edges. Whatever the Hell Ethan had meant by not screaming when I saw the eyes, I had no idea, because I was looking right at them, into them, and I was seeing nothing terrible or freaky. They were just eyes, albeit eyes filled with a weighty concern.
'A glass of water? Tea? I might have some camomile somewhere.'
The Erelim turned as if to go, his feet shuffling against the floor, before stopping and scratching at his head. There were thumbholes in the cardigan sleeves and he had hooked his thumbs through them on both sides, the chunky knit of the wool covering part of his hands, like some kind of weird half-mitten. He looked back at me, anxiety crinkling his face.
'Do you like camomile tea? I don't want to give you something you don't like. I couldn't possibly forgive myself. Would you like a cup of camomile or something else entirely? Water. Did I say water?' He frowned again and blinked, as if it pained him to recall. Deep lines furrowed his brow, his eyes narrowing. 'Who are you?' he demanded. 'Why are you here?'
A chittering noise erupted from one of the aisles high above. It sounded like birds.
Birds.
I inhaled.
The macaw. The cockatoo. The rainbow-billed toucan. The scarlet ibis.
Exhaled.
'C-Casey,' I stammered. 'My name is Casey.'
The Erelim's face was blank, unreadable. Then, the smile appeared again in full-force, eyes misting over with glassy joy.
'Casey,' he repeated. 'Case-eeeeee.' His mouth stretched wide as he tried out the word, elongating the vowel with some glee. 'I like that. Yes, I do. It suits you. You look like a Casey.'
He nodded, grinning. 'Yes. You really do. Although I'm not sure I've ever met a Casey before, so I'm not entirely certain what a Casey should look like, but I really think that you are it. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I believe I'm right. You are definitely how a Casey should look.' He paused, almost breathless from his gushing speech, before tilting his head to one side, his face falling. 'My goodness,' he exclaimed, slapping his palm against his forehead in dismay. 'Here's me prattling on like an old fool and I haven't even offered you a drink! I'm a terrible host, terrible, terrible...'
The Erelim looked genuinely stricken as he shook his head, his shoulders drooping, his mouth now moving wordlessly, but I was certain he was mouthing terrible, terrible, terrible.
'Camomile!' I blurted out, sure that I needed to say something to regain his attention.
He looked at me, questioningly, and I stepped forward - actually stepped closer to him - and smiled.
'Camomile,' I said again, as calmly as I could. 'You offered me a cup of camomile tea and I accepted.'
'Did I? he said, his face brightening once more. 'Yes, I did, didn't I? Of course, I did. Okay, dear, come along.'
He began shuffling away, his back slightly bent in an arthritic-hunch.
I hesitated, looking behind me towards where Ethan had disappeared into the shadows. Where had he gone? How long would he be? Was he even coming back?
'What's the matter?' the Erelim said, his voice rising a little, each word pronounced sharply. 'Is there somebody back there? Are you on your own?'
He'd seen Ethan. He must have seen him. There was no way he could have missed him because he'd been looking right at us and if, by some miracle, he hadn't, then he must have at least heard me calling after Ethan as he ran away.
The Erelim blinked as he looked at me, a furious tic-like fluttering of his lids.
I shook my head and smiled again, sure that he would see through it and notice how the corners of my mouth were twitching nervously. 'No, no,' I assured. 'There's no one. I just thought I heard something.' I pointed back down the aisle. 'It's so dark. I don't like it, it makes me hear things that aren't there.'
The Erelim's face fell instantly, and for a moment, I thought he might even start to cry. There was a desperate sadness in his eyes, his mouth dropping open with dismay. Walking to my side, he lifted my hand, holding it very gently in his. A whisper of a gasp escaped his lips and he withdrew, only to do it again, this time, grasping it more firmly and patting it in what seemed a grandfatherly gesture. His skin was fine sandpaper against mine and, up close, I could see tiny particles of dust, floating in his beard and hair, and sticking to his clothes. There was a musty smell about him, not totally unpleasant, but it reminded me of old books and antique parchment.
'Dearest Casey,' he said, looking distraught. 'You mustn't be afraid of the dark. You simply mustn't. Although, if you think you heard something, it's highly likely that you did. This old place creaks and moans worse than the deck of a Spanish galleon on the rough seas, and don't even get me started on some of the things we keep here. I constantly have to tell them to hush up and be quiet. It's really rather irritating at times.' He was still patting my hand. 'But you are not to fret about the dark. I can see everything, trust me and there is nothing for you to fear here.'
The smile returned.
'Did you say camomile or green tea? I forget. Camomile is better I think. Calming, I believe. Shall we go?'
