THE MESSAGE IN THE DRAWING
CHAPTER ONE

The sheer sunlight beamed through the glass windows, mixing with the brown of the table to create a bright amber. Olivia's fingers tapped against the wood rhythmically, the soft patting sound playing in sync with her wandering thoughts. Even in the luminous daytime, her mind drifted as it did at night when she was alone with nothing to distract her. Like a boat, lost ashore, her brain was an overactive ocean of aimless words and insignificant questions. Things she had no outlet for, nothing to keep her busy and distracted from what only appeared in her head when she was bored, and most of all when she could hardly keep her eyes open. When all she wanted was to relax, to not feel or think about the countless things flowing through her head.

She removed her right hand from her forehead, temporarily stripping herself from the shield protecting her eyes from the blinding sun to cover her mouth as she yawned. As the deep yellow light hit her eyes through the window, she squinted her eyes and looked away. She wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep in the comfort of her bed; under her warm comforter with her fuzzy socks. Yet, her gut pleaded her to stay at the restaurant even despite the stench of raw fish, away from the bed she hadn't had incredibly pleasant nights in.

Running her hand over her face, Olivia tried to wipe away the images that replayed in her head as the thought crossed her mind. Never had her nightmares been so vivid, yet, at the same time, she couldn't find the words to describe them. She sighed and placed both her hands on the table. Her fingers brushed against the black, thin book on the table. Instinctively, she pulled it toward her and peeled open the front cover. She flicked through the several pages of colored flowers and grey portraits until her eyes landed on the figure that flashed through her head repeatedly like a disco light.

Its eyes were large and colored with the softest amount of pressure of Olivia's pen. They bulged out of the pale, slender face that carried them, and stared back at Olivia, almost in a way of torment– to make her crack and look away. Thin horns protruded from its head, and as Olivia absorbed the features of her own drawing, she felt compelled to look away, the very sight of it making her shift in her seat.

As she averted her attention away from her sketchbook, Olivia's brown eyes met with a girl in a pear-green uniform dress, much like the ones all the other waitresses at The Claw wore. Her raven-black hair hung in a low ponytail, and she watched Olivia expectantly with her eyebrows raised and pen pressed against the small notepad in her hands. "What can I get for you today?" she asked, and while she put on a smile, Olivia could see the impatience that it masked.

"A coffee with milk, please," Olivia replied more quietly than intended, her voice too hoarse and energy too low from lack of sleep. 

"Anything else?" Olivia shook her head in response and forced a wan smile, waiting for the waitress to leave. She suppressed a frown of confusion when she noticed something had caught the black-haired girls' eye. She followed where her eyes were pointed, only to realize she was staring at her sketch.

"Oh, um, that's just from a dream I had," Olivia chuckled lightly, slowly shitting the book as a soft shade of pink grew on her cheeks. I'm not a freak, I swear, she thought to herself, almost tempted to say it aloud. The waitress remained silent and gave an uncertain nod of apprehension before turning around and slowly walking away.

Olivia returned her gaze to her sketch, taking in the unpleasant creature her brain had morphed in her sleep more than once. Thinking about it, looking at it made the world around her fall silent. All she could hear was her own unsteady breathing and the uneasy beating of her heart. She didn't know what it was or why she had seen it in her dreams, and although she was certain it was merely a figment of her imagination, the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck still stood every time she looked at its drawing. Evocative and disconcerting, it sat at the back of her mind like a shadow watching her close, trying to keep her on her toes and making her fear the worst.

She returned to the present world when another wave of fatigue came to shore. Covering her mouth, she let the yawn pass her lips while her eyes desperately searched around for her coffee. She found the waitress who took her order standing by the aisle with her colleagues. Her eyes were narrow as she spoke to them. They listened intently, with eyebrows furrowed in concern. Olivia frowned in confusion when they all turned to face her in unison. Their stares remained on her for moments while the girl in the green uniform proceeded to talk, almost blind to the fact that Olivia could see them staring at her as though a branch was growing on her face.

She sunk into her seat and tried to shrink herself by wrapping her arms around herself, uncomfortable by their gawks. While they had each other and stood as one, Olivia was seated on her own, tired and lonely with strangers giving her judgemental looks. "Shouldn't you be making my coffee instead of standing over there gossiping?" she called, unbothered by the three other customers who were hearing her loud complaint. Sitting up straight and propping her elbows onto the table, she watched them through cold, unfriendly eyes, unappreciative of the way they had looked at her previously. The girl who had taken her order rolled her eyes, evidently more fiery than the others who had just given Olivia sheepish smiles before returning to their designated jobs.

In place of the original girl, a redheaded waitress ambled toward her with a cup on a plate. Her face held an apologetic smile as she neared the table, and instinctively Olivia's mean glare softened. "I'm sorry about that..." she said embarrassedly as she placed the mug onto the table. Olivia inhaled deeply, relishing in the comforting spell of coffee. "I'm Nancy, by the way."

"I'm Olivia Irvine."

"Irvine... Irvine Industries?" Olivia nodded and Nancy raised an impressed eyebrow. "If your family owns the Horseshoe Bay's biggest fishing industry, what the Hell are you doing at the Claw?"

"Trust me when I say I'm not here for the fish." Olivia put on an exaggerated grimace before letting out a chuckle. "I wouldn't eat seafood if it was to save my life. Probably my dad's biggest disappointment."

"Well, let your dad know I'd be happy to raid his supplies any day," Nancy laughed along. As silence settled in the air once again, Nancy shifted toward the chair opposite Olivia and slid in. "By the way... George mentioned something about a drawing– do you mind if I take a look at it?"

Olivia arched her brow, overwhelmed by skepticism. "Why the huge interest?" she questioned while reaching over for the book. She flicked to the correct page before handing it to the girl. Nancy's eyes were almost glued to it, not flickering away for even a second. Olivia pursed her lips and remained quiet, watching her timidly. Seeing her so intrigued by her sketch– this particular one of all her sketches– made the feeling of tightness return to her chest. What was so significant about her drawing?

"Olivia... do you know what this is?" Nancy finally spoke up, though her eyes were still plastered onto the messy page.

Olivia shook her head in response. "No... I just had a few dreams about it last week, but I guess it's just influenced by the horror movies I've watched recently," she said through a breathy chuckle, almost as though she was trying to convince herself that she was normal.

"Is anyone else in your family seeing stuff like this?" Nancy's continuous questions only made Olivia shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"What? No. I mean my Aunt Hillary used to see things but that's just because she was schizophrenic- why are you even asking this?"

"I don't think this was a dream." The red-haired girl finally tore her gaze away from the book and faced Olivia. Her wide, intense eyes and furrowed eyebrows told Olivia that something was wrong. "I've seen this thing before– we all have. The Aglaeca." She pointed toward her friends who were still whispering and watching her like hawks. "It killed George and I brought her back but it's still trying to kill us."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Hilarious."

"I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. Maybe it's after you, or a family member. You could be in danger. Let us help you," she insisted, leaning forward in her seat. "I just need to figure out why you're dreaming about it."

"Because I've been watching too many horror movies," Olivia repeated firmly, her eyes darkening at Nancy's persistence. She snapped her sketchbook shut and pushed her untouched coffee away before standing up to leave. Her appetite had completely faded, and her utter exhaustion was suddenly replaced with red, hot frustration. The kind that made her heartbeat pulse in her ears and her knuckles turn white as she clenched her fist.

The kind that had only risen to her chest because deep down, she knew that something was awfully wrong.

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