Page 51 of Presence

My heart races as her words sink in. My whole body goes on high alert, adrenaline flooding my system. How can Camilla possibly know about the presence? How? But she did. Even before summoning Echo, she knew that something was off. That’s why she said that joke in the first place.

“I thought it might protect you,” she continues on the recording, her voice cracking just a bit. “I learned about it from a friend in the witch community online. It sounded like something that could help with whatever was troubling you. I didn’t think it would... I didn’t think it would actually make things worse.”

I pause the message, my breathing more erratic than I’d like. After taking a few deep, painful breaths, I press play again.

“I’m so sorry. I’m trying to figure out how to undo it or at least make it right,” she continues earnestly. “I’m talking to some people who know more about these things. The owner of Esoteric Cat is one of them. She has a book she wants to show me. What I described about you seems similar to something in there, so... I’m meeting her at one. I don’t know if you’ll listen to this, but I’ll send another message once I find some answers. Or better yet... I might just come visit you again. Hope you don’t scratch me to death this time. Love you. Always.”

The message ends, leaving me in silence. I glance at the clock—it’s been an hour, and still no reply. Esoteric Cat, huh? That strange place where that weird cat scratched me. The scratch has healed, but there’s still a faint red line on the back of my hand. I bring that hand to my mouth, nervously biting my nails.

“What should I do?” I mutter aloud, my heart pounding as if it might leap out of my chest any second. “Should I just lock the doors and pretend I’m not here when she comes over? No… She’ll know I saw the messages; it showed up as ‘read.’ She’ll know I’m ignoring her.”

God knows what Camilla might do if she thinks I’m in danger. She’s capable of anything. She could contact my landlord, learn how to pick locks, or whatever else it takes. One way or another, she’ll find her way into my apartment and do whatever she’s set her mind on.

Banishing the presence... Is that even possible? If Echo were here, I’d ask him.

Damn it! Why didn’t I ask him this earlier? Shouldn’t that have been the first thing we talked about after realizing something was actually chasing me? I shake my head in frustration.

“It doesn’t matter. Echo’s not here, and he can’t help,” I tell myself. “I need to figure this out on my own.”

I feel like a grain of sand in a sandstorm. What can I really do here alone, with no power? My muscles are weak; I’m like a single blade of grass in a field, the wind pulling at me from all sides—bending, tearing, trying to uproot me.

Yet, here I am, still standing. Even when I don’t want to, I’m still standing.

Staying home and waiting is pointless. Taking pills will only make Cam call an ambulance. Running isn’t an option either, not with my condition. I need to face this head-on. I’ll go to that damn Esoteric Cat place and figure out what to do from there.

Taking a deep breath, I get up from the couch, trying to ignore the pain in my legs as I steady myself. Stars flash in front of my eyes, and my vision gets blurry. But sheer willpower and fear push me to the hallway. I slip on my shoes and coat, make it down the stairs with my phone in hand, the Uber app open on the screen.

“Are you okay, miss?” the driver asks after I find him and collapse into the backseat, sweat beading on my forehead. His concern is evident, and it’s not hard to see why. I must look as rough as I feel—with dark circles under my eyes, my skin pale and slick with sweat, and my hair a complete mess. I look like a ghost.

“Oh, yeah,” I mutter, forcing a weak smile. “Just one of those days, you know?”

The driver nods, doubt flickering in his eyes, but he turns back to the road and pulls away from the curb.

The ride to Esoteric Cat feels like it’s taking forever compared to my last trip with Cam. Every bump and turn makes me more uneasy. I lean against the window, watching the city blur by—a mix of lights and shadows that makes me even dizzier. As we approach the destination, my heart begins to pound against my ribcage so strongly that I feel nauseous.

Esoteric Cat, tucked between an old bookstore and a closed bakery, doesn’t look all that intimidating from the outside. I used to think it was just a quirky antique and candle shop, but now that I know it’s more than that, just the sight of it makes me queasy.

Look at me, panting, sweating, and overwhelmed with dread, when just a month ago, I dismissed all this spiritual nonsense. I called it bullshit. Now I’m fucking shaking.

The car stops, and I thank the driver, my voice barely above a whisper. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, the cool air hits me like a slap. I straighten up, take a deep breath, and head towards the shop.

It looks just like I remember. The cramped, dimly lit space is packed with shelves full of books, crystals of every size and color, and candles giving off a faint glow. The incense smell is strong, filling my nose and scratching at my throat—it’s honestly making me feel more sick than I already do.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” a voice calls from the narrow hallway, the same one I walked through last time to get to the checkout. It sounds a bit tense, like the person is as nervous as I am.

But I didn’t come all this way just to leave now.

With shaky legs, I move through the crowded aisles, my eyes darting nervously from shelf to shelf. I can feel a presence clutching me tight, breathing down my neck right now. I don’t know what it is. I just… I just don’t feel right here. Like the shadows are about to jump out from the wooden furniture at any moment. With every step I take, it feels like I’m being pulled deeper into some unwanted darkness.

No… You can’t turn around now, Claire. Don’t even think about it.

Taking a deep breath, I push forward, my heart racing like crazy. When I get to the narrow hallway where I heard the voice, I stop, my hand hesitating in mid-air. The smell of incense is stronger here, mixed with the faint scent of old books and something else I can’t quite place.

But nobody’s here.

“Hello?” I call out softly, my voice bouncing off the walls. “Are you still here?”

Silence. Where did that person go?

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