Emotion Catchers: Becoming Adults

By Beatrice Descamps

Aimed at teenagers and young adults, this work of fiction tells the story of girls with the gift and curse of extreme empathy (nowadays called “empaths”), their teachers helping them to grow into responsible adults and a witch wanting to use their extraordinary powers for self-serving purposes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798369491768

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Copyright © 2023 by Beatrice Descamps.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/23/2023

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Prologue

The start of an eventful summer

1. The tree

2. The ritual

Interlude

Childhood

3. Mrs Dubois

4. The routine

5. Friendship

6. After school

7. The first meeting

8. Happy empaths

9. The other school

10. When adults want to play

11. Mr Barnes

12. The other swap

13. The second week

14. The illness of Mrs Dubois

Growing up

15. Left to their own devices

16. First invite

17. The meeting

18. The ring

19. Imogen’s rage

20. Strange encounter

21. Terry’s descent into Hell

22. The white horse

The fight between good and evil

23. The calm before the storm

24. The dream

25. The second invitation

26. The deliberation

27. Imogen’s reaction

28. The last meeting

29. Getting help

30. The hospital

31. The last teaching

32. The mission

Epilogue

For my beautiful daughter, Erin

I would like to thank Nancy Blancato for her expert advice and for believing in me. I would also like to thank my wonderful friend Dawn Jackson for putting me up and giving me a place conducive to writing.

Prologue

"Dear Mum, I wish you were here. Soon I’ll turn eighteen. I’ll be an adult, and everyone will expect me to fend for myself. I’m scared."

Marguerite Moretti was writing to her mum for the very first time.

"I’m scared … and excited at the same time! What an eventful summer it has been! I wish I could tell you all about it."

Marguerite had so much to tell. Lifting her pen from the paper, she looked back on the last six weeks of her life, losing herself in thoughts.

Worthy of a book! she said out loud.

The sound of her own voice pulled her out of her daydream. She had dreamt of writing a book for years now. Maybe this was it; she had something to tell at last!

Follow your dreams, my darling girl!

Marguerite was startled. She had never heard her mother so loud and clear. She was sure it was her even though she could not quite recognise the sound of her voice. Her mother had passed away many years ago, but Marguerite had never felt closer to her than today.

I love you, Mum, replied Marguerite, smiling from ear to ear.

The young woman had recently searched through her mother’s personal belongings, which her father had lovingly sorted, labelled and kept in a large trunk. Marguerite had found The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Her father had told her it had been her mother’s favourite book, which Marguerite rushed to devour in two hours straight.

I’ll write a book for you, Mum.

Marguerite felt inspired to write about her and her friends’ crazy adventures. She wanted to tell a story of friendship, of personal discovery, of learning, of routines and rituals and of good against evil, with a hint of magic and mystery.

"A mix between Harry Potter and The Alchemist," she told the mirror, imagining her answers during a book launch before bursting out laughing.

Marguerite pulled her laptop in front of her, pushing the pen and paper aside. She wondered how to start. She didn’t want to be the centre character of the story, not without her best friends anyway.

She was going to write it from an observer’s point of view.

An outside observer, yep, someone observing with caring detachment, she repeated out loud, nodding, trying to convince herself it was a good idea.

She had recently learnt about caring detachment and believed it was pivotal to her well-being and therefore decided it would be pivotal to her story as well.

Yes, my sweetie pie, it will be a winner! heard Marguerite, recognising her dear mum’s voice!

With love in her heart and a clear mind, words and sentences started to emerge from deep inside her. It was effortless. She started to type as fast as she could, trying to keep up with the tempo imposed by the dance between her memory and imagination.

And so, she wrote the first chapters of her story.

The start of an eventful summer

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1

The tree

It was a sunny, hot day, like so often during summer holidays on the small Isle of Auborda. If you could find a shady spot swept by the gentle breeze, the temperature was perfect for a lazy afternoon sleep.

The three friends were meeting at their special place, in front of the ice cream van, under the palm trees, on the narrow strip of land stretching into the ocean.

Alex Page was already there, sitting in the shade on the wooden fence by the beach. She badly needed to see her friends and had texted them the special code for urgent matters. By their replies, she knew Juliette Harrison and Marguerite Moretti would arrive soon.

Alex was wearing a beautiful, sleeveless summer dress, pale blue like her eyes. The fabric was falling softly on her knees. She had laced sandals, knotted high on the ankle, with extremely high heels by her own standard. They were probably only an inch high, but for Alex, it was out of the ordinary and meant something; she wanted to be beautiful. Her face was hidden behind a straw hat and large sunglasses. Anyone would have looked at her and found her stunning. But something was missing. Today, happy-go-lucky Alex was not smiling.

Juliette and Marguerite arrived together. As usual, Juliette was wearing shorts, as short as you can get, showing off her long brown legs, always with a black thread on the left ankle. She had a wide-neck T-shirt, falling to the side, uncovering her square shoulder and showing the strap of her bra with a flowery pattern. And of course, she was wearing her favourite cap. It came from her Dad’s practice. With a big grin, she was usually proud to tell everyone that he was the best and only vet on the island. But today she felt sad for her friend Alex.

Marguerite, in her uniform from the bakery where she worked, immediately sensed something was wrong with Alex. She felt pain in her stomach and a knot in her throat. Not long ago she would have felt very confused, happy one minute and overwhelmed with emotions the next. Today she knew these were not her own feelings. Anyway, Alex had texted the special code. Something was wrong.

When Alex saw them approaching, she ran to them. They hugged a long time without talking. They didn’t need words to connect. They had discovered the power of hugs when only in primary school. Later on, exploring their hearts, they had put into words what they felt. The best way they could describe it was that it was easier to love yourself when someone else loved you, and it was easier to have hope when someone else had faith in you.

Eventually, Alex pulled away and told them what had happened. The boy who came on the boat a week ago, with whom she madly fell in love and spent hours talking, who held her tight all night long, who said he would stay on the island for her … left today. He said he still had a lot to discover. He kept saying he was not ready to settle down. But Alex was sure she saw a tear rolling on his cheek before he turned away to jump on the boat.

Alex had a broken heart, and all three felt broken. They hugged again.

Then the wind turned. They all looked towards the horizon and saw dolphins jumping out of the water. It was heart-warming, and they all felt a bit better.

It was time for action, thought Marguerite. I think I know what would help you, she said with a sparkle in her eye.

Her friends questioned her with a smile. Okay, here it is, said Marguerite, in her bubbly voice. "I was having a cappuccino while reading a book at my favourite book café. You know, the one on Marmion Street? At another table, behind a bookcase, were a couple of women talking. I didn’t pay attention at first, but one of them spoke with so much music in her voice, I couldn’t