Eyes from Heaven

By Mary Hull

When you walk through darkness, how will you find your way?

Images from the drowning accident at the beach continue to haunt Lily, the new girl at Meadowcreek high school. She finds herself caught in a struggle between two handsome boys who have moved to Meadowcreek with one purpose. Now with their paths crossed, Lilys life will never be the samebecause her destiny now lies in their hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475948615

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Mary Hull.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4860-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4861-5 (ebk)

iUniverse rev. date: 09/18/2012

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgements

Neighbor

New Girl

Spoken

Cornered

Truth

Rock Beach

Interception

Fate Steps In

With Vincent

Shielded Vessel

The Arrival

Fallen Angel

Bleeding Heart

Confessions

Crossroads

This book is dedicated to my three children. I’m grateful for every day that I hear the word mom, more than a few times of course! You are extraordinary little people!

I’ll make death love me; for I will contend

Even with his pestilent scythe.

-Anthony and Cleopatra

Preface

There was a powerful effect to his voice and I held my breath, my heart beating crazily through my chest as he continued to keep a firm but gentle grip on my hand. The coldness of his skin sent a shiver up my spine. No, I can’t! I can’t go further, I thought to myself as he drew me towards the top of the boulder, which formed the caves down below.

You mustn’t be afraid of me, I heard him say but I was unable to meet his gaze. The boulder was hard, the soles of my shoes taking small steps across as he led the way. I closed my eyes.

When you walk through darkness, how will you find your way?

Acknowledgements

What a journey this has been for me. From the time I envisioned these characters, this town and the plot and now they have come to life thanks to the hard work of a small group of individuals who have quietly but surely walked this road with me.

For my brother, Gregory’s, feedback, encouragement, and guidance, my brother, Paul’s, support and faith, my Uncle Garbis’ expertise and support, my editor, Ken Brosky, who spent long hours revising and polishing the story, Joey Jones, who designed the amazing cover that truly exemplified the title of the book, my parents’ love and faith in me, my husband Glen’s patience and support as well as the constant love and affection of my three children, and of course, the ultimate praise of God whose daily presence in my life has truly given me the hope and faith I’ve needed to fulfill my dream of writing a novel.

My hope for the readers is that you may find your unique place in this world, which is truly a gift as well as a test to attain wisdom and the discovery of love. Hang on! You’re in for the ride of your life!

Neighbor

My mom had the radio turned to a classical station. It was her favorite type of music. I opened my eyes and glanced at the clock on the dashboard: three-thirty. I adjusted my seat belt and turned my head towards the window. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the sun’s radiant beams hovering across the horizon.

I read the large, rectangular sign to my right as we reached the end of the freeway. Meadowcreek—Population 85,000. I’d been raised in a town more than half the size. It was mid-June. We’d left Viewbridge, the only home I’d ever known, early that morning and had been in the car for three hours with one stop made at a fast food restaurant. A large u-haul had already transferred suitcases of clothes and other belongings the week before. I would have been just fine with the bedroom furniture I had but mom had insisted on a complete furniture makeover. I had refused to go with her to choose my new furniture.

I decided to pile that surprise with everything else awaiting me in a town where I knew no one; in a high school where I would be entering as a junior and hoping to find at least one kind face among the three hundred students who had probably all gone to the same elementary and junior high schools. Back home, it had been easy to hide behind the two hundred students in only my tenth grade class. That and the other students tolerated my quiet nature because of my outgoing brother whom everyone adored.

My dad had offered to drive us but my mom had refused, insisting on the first of many mother and daughter adventures we’d create together. Her definition of mother and daughter adventures included dad no longer living with us. I didn’t exude a similar reaction towards leaving my dad and moving to a new town. Mom’s excitement about the move was evident because she’d reminded me at least a dozen times about the similarities in weather between the two towns. Lily, in Meadowcreek we don’t have to have a complete wardrobe change, she’d mentioned again when we left that morning. I guess, I said, turning my head to stare at my street one last time before my mom drove away. Her idea of starting over after the grief our family had experienced three months ago was something I couldn’t understand.

The small black box was perched on the dresser. I must have forgotten to put it back, I thought as my fingers traced the box. I opened it and stared at the mirror image of myself. The same fair skin, green eyes and honey colored hair. We were standing in front of our house, now my old house, in Viewbridge. It was the day of the beach trip. That was the last picture I’d taken with Ben.

I jumped at the hard knock on my bedroom door.

Lily! Are you up yet?

My mom walked into the room, her eggplant colored pantsuit complimenting her shoulder length brown hair and light makeup. I tried shoving the box back into the drawer and ended up getting my finger caught in the hinge. I pursed my lips, trying to conceal the throbbing sensation.

She eyed me with her brows lifted. Do I have to remind you that this is your first day at a new school?

Why did she feel the need to question everything?

Nothing, I was just . . .

My dear, she said, her tone firm. Surely you’re not trying to skip your first day of school are you?

I looked her straight in the eyes but I’d never been good at keeping things from her. No, mom, I said looking away, I was just putting something away and my finger got caught.

Her voice softened. Are you all right?

Yeah, I’m fine. I was just going to take a shower.

She placed her hand on my shoulder. We must carry ourselves with confidence so those around us will want to get to know who we are.

Ok.

She reached over and hugged me. Please hurry. Oh, and don’t forget to wear some mascara. Our eyes are the windows to our soul.

I waited for her to leave the room then went in the bathroom.

I must have been standing under the hot water for a while because my skin felt like rubber. After drying off, I wore khaki pants and a pink blouse. I had never been strong in the confidence department. My parents would joke that Ben had gotten the ‘Everyone wants to be around me’ gene. I, on the other hand, would much rather hide behind my good grades and the few girlfriends I’d hang out with occasionally on weekends. But mom always made it a point to remind me that I was too beautiful to dress like a tomboy and growing up I had come to enjoy feeling comfortable in nice clothing.

Most of the girls my age I had come across in town were highly fashionable in their taste of clothing and I definitely didn’t want to look like an outsider, even though I totally felt like one. I stared at my appearance in the mirror. I couldn’t hold on to the few friends I had back home. How could I start over in this new town alone?

I went downstairs to the kitchen.

There’s orange juice and bagels on the table, mom said, rinsing her coffee mug. She turned from the sink and eyed my outfit.

Nice choice. I would’ve picked a dress though.

I chewed my bagel quietly.

Remember; don’t be unconscious of your beauty. Others will identify this weakness in you.

I don’t even know anyone here, mom.

So should I encourage you to continue this pattern of isolation you’ve created for yourself since we moved here?

I looked down at my empty plate. No, I just don’t feel welcome here.

You haven’t given this town a chance, Lily. She kissed my forehead. You will make new friends and come to realize how much I’ve sacrificed to give you a new start.

By making me leave my old house?

She raised her brows. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that because you’re usually more level-headed than this.

I’m trying to be, mom, but I miss Viewbridge.

This is our new home now, dear, and I’m working so hard to give you everything I never had as a young girl.

I let out a laugh. I’m not you, mom.

Don’t be cynical with me. You know very well that moving here, starting over, was the best thing for all of us.

Don’t you mean the best thing for you?

She took in a deep breath. Finish your breakfast so you’re not late for your meeting with the counselor. I’ve spoken to her about our situation.

Great.

Glad that’s settled. She kissed my forehead. Oh, and for the sake of both of our reputations in town please try to be outgoing and make new friends, she added with a smile. Have a great first day. I’ll see you this afternoon. She waved and headed out the front door.

I didn’t reply, relieved that this one-sided conversation had ended. For now.

My parents would call me their timid child. There was someone, though, who was uninhibited and eager to challenge everything; my brother, Ben.

I opened the front door. The sun’s bright rays welcomed me to my first day of eleventh grade at Meadowcreek High.

I stepped off the porch and looked to my left at the house next door. It was almost twice the size as our house, although I’d never actually seen the inside. The house had been empty for about a month since the previous owner, Mr. Culling, a widower in his eighties, had passed away. I watched two men, wearing blue uniforms, carrying boxes from a large u-haul truck parked in the driveway up the front porch into the house. It seemed strange to have neighbors again. I strained my neck but there was no sign of anyone else in the house.

You can put the rest of the boxes in the garage! Yeah, right there, thanks!

It was a boy’s voice and it was coming from the upstairs window directly across from my bedroom.

The boy suddenly turned and looked at me. He had jet-black hair and looked like he was around my age. Embarrassed, I looked away and started walking down the sidewalk. Surprisingly. I was intrigued because there was evident curiosity to his expression. Strange, since he’d never seen me before in his life.

I crossed the intersection in front of the school. Meadowcreek High appeared ready to engulf me. I had no choice but to endure what the next two years held for me.

May I help you? a soft voice asked.

I have a meeting with Mrs. Cash.

This way please. She smiled and began to walk down the hall. I’m the librarian, Mrs. Sanders.

Hello. I felt like a stone wall that had been carved through, my past divulged to all. After all, I was the new girl and knew the other students would seize upon the interest of discovering the reason of my move to Meadowcreek.

We walked down a long hallway. Mrs. Sanders stopped in front of a door labeled Counseling Center.

Follow me, please.

There were several other students going in and out of the offices. I stared at the brown carpet. Mrs. Sanders stopped in front of the last door.

"Here we are. Go ahead and knock, dear.

I knocked on the door.

Yes, come in please.

A woman appearing to be in her mid-forties with tanned skin and shoulder length black hair stood up from her desk and smiled. May I help you?

I’m Lily Casteel. I handed her the letter from school confirming the appointment.

She scanned the note and smiled. Welcome to Meadowcreek High, Lily. I’m Mrs. Cash. Please sit down.

Feeling awkward, I perched at the edge of the chair.

I have spoken with the principal and am ready to help you, she said.

Help me with what? I didn’t hide the uncertainty in my voice.

Why, with your transition here to a new school, a new town.

I tried to appear confident. I don’t need help with any transition here . . .

I know losing someone, especially one you were so close to, is extremely difficult, especially since you were there when it happened.

I caught the look of concern washed across her face.

It helps if we express our feelings, whether they are of anger, tears, whatever they are. Thank you, but I don’t need to express my feelings about what happened.

Lily, I understand the challenge of a new town. It must be hard with your dad not living here.

I survived the last few months. I’m sure I’ll do fine.

It isn’t healthy for a young girl like you to be living in the past and . . .

You have no idea what my life was like back home, I whispered, mostly to myself. But she had heard for she nodded quietly, waiting for me to continue. However, I couldn’t give her more. I still don’t know my way around here, I said, reaching for my backpack, so thanks anyway. I started to leave when she stood up from her desk

I’m here everyday until 4 p.m. if you want to talk, she said.

I looked back and smiled. Thank you but I don’t think I need to.

As I opened the door, she spoke the words I was dreading to hear from anyone I came across in this new town.

I’m sorry you lost your brother.

I walked towards my first class, homeroom, which was on the second floor. I furtively studied my schedule, my mind once again spinning with the memory of Ben’s death.

Clouds had overtaken the sun’s presence the morning of the funeral. Family and friends had had to search for items to protect their hair and clothing. I had surrendered to nature’s command allowing the rain to soak through my hair and dress, concealing the tears on my face as my mother and father stood weeping at my side.

I stopped at the end of the hall and took in a deep breath. I opened the door and stepped into a large classroom with the desks set up like stadium seating.

The homeroom teacher, a slender man with glasses, walked over towards me.

Welcome! What is your name?

Lily

Lily Casteel, right?

Yes.

He smiled, handing me a thick packet with my name on it. You will be sharing the last desk on the right with another student. I could feel the stares around me as I walked towards my desk.

I sat down and opened the thick packet entitled, Meadowcreek Homeroom 11th grade.

The classroom door opened and Mrs. Cash poked her head in.

I have one more for you, Mr. Mathers.

Thank you, Mrs. Cash. Mr. Mathers said. Welcome, young man! If you can please take the last desk by the window by Miss Casteel we can begin.

I looked towards the front of the room to take in my desk partner. The boy’s eyes turned from facing the teacher and locked with mine. I took in a quick breath and looked away.

Vincent, are you all right, son? Mr. Mathers’ look of concern brought snickers of laughter among the other students.

Yes, sir. Vincent walked to his assigned seat. I’m just incredibly observant. He took his seat by the window, oblivious to the giggles that stirred across the room.

I tried focusing on the speech Mr. Mathers was giving while surreptitiously looking at the clock.

But I knew that we weren’t going to be partners solely in homeroom. For he was my mystifying next door neighbor who was to be my homeroom partner for the rest of the school year.

New Girl

I want to welcome all of you to a brand new school year! Mr. Mathers looked around the room as he spoke. This class begins promptly at 8 am and I expect all of you to be in your seats when the bell rings.

Mr. Mathers then began to address the contents of the packet he’d handed out. Schedules, timelines and requirements the faculty and principal expected from each student were of no major significance at that moment because my mind was spinning with thoughts and questions about Vincent.

The sound of the bell interrupted my thoughts.

All right juniors, you are free to go. Feel free to meet with me when need be, Mr. Mathers said.

I peeked in Vincent’s direction but he had already left the room. With my schedule in hand, I began to walk to my next class.

The door to room 252 was open when I reached the second floor and I walked towards the large, rectangular desk where a woman with short blond hair was busily making what appeared to be nametags.

Good morning. May I see your schedule, please? Her vivacious temperament would have been appealing to many but I smiled timidly and handed her my schedule sheet.

Welcome, Lily. I am Mrs. Janelle, she said. Please place this sticker on your blouse so we can all get to know each other better. You may choose where you would like to sit.

Glancing around the room, I chose the desk nearest the windows overlooking the front of the school. The girl seated to my right was conversing with most of the other students who had gathered around her. As I turned my head, I become aware of the student in front of me. He was bent beside his desk, searching for something in his backpack.

Please come and collect your nametag, Vincent, Mrs. Janelle’s voice hovered over the incessant chatter in the room.

I froze. He strode towards the front of the room, his pitch-black hair casting a phantom like cover upon his head. He appeared oblivious to the chorus of giggles that arose from the group of girls sitting to my right.

He is just gorgeous! One girl said.

I bet he already has a girlfriend, another girl said.

Grace, you’re just his type, the black haired girl whispered to the blonde-haired girl.

Yeah, I think I should welcome our new student, the blonde-haired person said, smiling seductively as she pulled out a piece of paper from her binder and began to write.

I peeked at Grace from between strands of hair. She dropped her hand, the whole time keeping her eyes on the teacher. I watched as the black haired girl casually received the note and quietly tapped Vincent on the shoulder. Just as he was reaching for the note, the silence in the room was broken by Mrs. Janelle.

Kelly, what message could you possibly be sending on the first day of school? she asked. Vincent, the note please. She opened her palm.

He placed the note in her hand and pulled his shoulders back in the chair.

It seems we have a request in the class, she said, her eyes scanning the note. I would like to call on Grace and Vincent to come to the front of the class so they can partake in the narration between Heathcliff and Catherine in the novel, Wuthering Heights.

I could feel the stillness in Vincent’s breathing as he stood and began to walk towards the front where he quietly positioned himself next to Mrs. Janelle. Grace sauntered towards the front of the room where she stood beaming at the class.

I placed my hand on my cheek as the vision of Grace and Vincent acting out roles from Wuthering Heights was in full effect.

Grace’s voice projected above the lull in the classroom.

"Nelly, but because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same . . . If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the Universe would turn to a mighty stranger . . . Nelly, I am Heathcliff — he’s always, always in my mind — not as a pleasure, any more than I am

Reviews for Eyes from Heaven

[amandakerr · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Captivating Young Adult Coming of Age NovelMary Hull has written a wonderful tale of teenage hardships, love, and friendships. The author has done an amazing job creating the characters and the story line.Wonderful read for young adults and those who enjoy coming of age novels.Great Read!!