Yin-Yang Series: Surviving Highschool & Dragons

[Rain]

The Yin-Yang Series:
Surving Highschool


Broken upon Stone shall arrive Two
Change of Heart, Change of Mind
With all Hardships they Pass through
Desperate for Past they will find

Full of Vengeance, Full of Pride
Sore and sour with great Hate
Water shall Find the River, full and wide
And air destined to Open the heavenly Gate
Leading away from the betrayal and Lies
Which Run so Rampid in the state
Of the foolish and the Blind
And into Life that proves so Great









Introduction: What's This Book About?

So you found this, eh? Lucky you. You must've found my secret hiding spot, 'cause I hid it real well. You're reading my journal. Right now. See this word? Here? It's in my journal. The thing you're reading. Right, so now that we're on the same page, (Only after I wrote that did I realize I made a joke. So laugh.) I guess I'll tell you what happened.

I Died.

What? That's not simple enough for you? Alright, fine. I'll elaborate a bit for you. Shine some light on your fuzzy questions. I died nobly, don't worry. It wasn't in vain or suicidal or anything. I'm not emo. I couldn't stand myself if I was. I put my light out for a purpose. See, there's usually always a reason I do the things I do. Death was just.... something I had to do. So, in a way, I guess you could say it was suicidal. Or, maybe an even better word, a sacrifice. Yeah, that was probably it. I was like one of them heroes from a Disney movie, except I didn't magically avoid my fate. I actually died. Don't let the movies confuse you kids, in the real world, death is always a factor you've gotta take notice of. Only the last second did that factor actually come into my mind. And it kinda hurtd, like a migrain. A bad one.
After a while, (Really about three seconds) I got used to it. I mean, death is a real thing. It happens everyday. Right in front of us. It's a common thing, action of nature. It was meant to happen. I feel bad because it effected River, and of course it upset Colt. But they'll get over it. They always do. I mean, you should really see the things I do to those guys. How bad I tick them off. I don't really think I treat them right. But they always brush it off, nothing sticks to them for long. They do the thing I can't. Move on.

I guess I could start from the beginning, to show you what happened. You know, to the reader of this book. Because I guess it can be kind of important. I mean, it did decide the fate of an entire lost civilization, possibly the world, though I doubt it. (No, not Atlantis. Idiot.) But don't worry, you'll find out about them as soon as you read this.
Oh yeah, I forgot to introduce myself. Well, reader, my name is Avira Levin Trinity. Now it is, anyway. Wierd bunch of names you say? Good. I've never been to fond of common names like Joe and Laura. Maybe not Laura, but you get the point. I didn't want to be just another Bob. I'm hear to be known. (By the way, I don't mean to offend any of those Joe's, Laura's, or Bob's. You guys have great names, be happy. Just be sure people know you last names too. Things might get a bit confusing otherwise.)
I love my name though. And Colt likes it too, I guess. He says it matches my personality, whatever that means. I'm telling you, warning you even, sometimes that kid can be a complete idiot. Don't let him fool you. He might look like one smart cookie, and he is, but he's full of it. All the fricken time. And of course, first its funny. Because you usually think idiots screwing up all the time is funny to see, but after a while, it really tends to get annoying.
But what am I doing? You don't even know Colt. You don't know River, or Jodian, or Jasmine, or even old Thelma. So I'll stop right here. It's time for you to see my world. What's happened in the last three or four years of my life. (I think its three, I could be wrong though.)

And one more thing I forgot to mention. This is the last of my neat writing, it's taking me way to long to write in it. I'm going to type the rest of this really, really long journey.(I didn't even know they had computers!!!!)








Chapter 1: I Scare My ISS Teacher

January 3, Wednesday Age 16
This is so relaxing. Seriously, you have no idea. I've got not a care in the world. I'm barely even thinkg. It's like my mind took a vacation and I'm left with just a clean, empty slate. Nothing to write, nothing to look at. There's just nothing. Just the way I like it.
ISS does that you, I guess. But its nice and I never get sick of it. And, if you're the kind of kid that never gets in to trouble and has no clue what ISS stands for, get a life you teacher's pet freak. Anyway, it stands for In-School Suspension. I'll even explain what it is, just so you can understand me a bit better. How's that? Don't like it? Too bad.
So this is what it is. They lock you up in this little tidy room, with all snowy white walls. For hours. Usually eight, or the whole day that school goes on. Nothing to stare at but big blank walls and a huge clock that looks like its mocking you if you stare it for too long. I tend to sneak a piece of paper in, for boredom purposes. When I finally feel like I'm about to loose it, I crumple the sheet up and drop it around on my little cubicle for a while. For a few hours, you've got something to do. Of course, that is until Ms. Syanders takes it away.
But don't let her fool you. She couldn't even catch a cold to save her life. The desks(three in total) all have writing scribbled all over them, with profane words and insults against teachers. Mind you, over half of every word on these desks were left by my talented hands and creative mind. I text practically all day when I do find the so called "Punishment" boring. Usually to my mom, to discuss home matters or tasks to be completed when I reach my homebase. Or to Colt.
Good ol' Colt. Poor guy, sap like him stuck with a friend like me. I don't get him, he's so much different than everyone else. For starts, why would he be best friends with a complete loser like me? I mean sure, I've got a great personality. Or at least that's what he tells me. But its not like I'm the prettiest face ever. Or the brightest bulb in the chandelier. I always thought that when dudes hang out with a girl, it meant they liked each other. But I sure as hell don't like Colt like that, so get it outta your head. And I'm pretty sure his thoughts are likewise.
I slumped back further in my uncomfortable wooden chair, secretly sucking on a piece of a Snickers bar. Yummy.
It was so quiet I could hear the vibration of power running through my cellphone as I texted mom. Pull out hamburger and make meatloaf? she'd texted me. Well, what else would I expect from my mom? Ugh. My mom was obsessed with meatloaf way too much. I'm to consider sending her to some shrink for some help. Or intervention. Would rehab really let her in? See, her meatloaf is good. Really, it is. But she makes it every other day. And after about three years of the meatloaf therapy, I'm really getting sick of it.
I let my fingers go to work along my keyboard. Hb sum pizza? I crossed my fingers so much I thought they might snap off. Pizza was such a rarity in my house, and I was practically dying to smell melted cheese again. The phone buzzed as a new text message window popped up. New Message: Will you open? Yes. No.
I rolled my eyes. "Nah, I'll just leave it there. What the hell do you think, asshole?" I muttered to myself.
Oh yeah, forgot to mention. I'm pretty big on cursing. So if you don't like it, get out of this book. I ain't forcin' ya to keep going.
Clicking Yes, I opened the message. Scanning the words, I sighed, feeling down and depressed. No money. the message read, the two letters popping out at me like white on black. (Actually, it was black on white, but same difference. Right?) Money. Great. When weren't we broke anyway?
Once again, I sighed, closing the keyboard on my phone. It clicked shut, signalling its departure. I wouldn't answer, better to let mom just make her meatloaf. As I placed the black machine on my desk, an [Thou whose name shalt not be spoketh] grip grabbed onto my wrist. I gasped, jolting slightly and looked to see who was holding my wrist.
Now, before I go on, I must stress the seriosness of the situation of Ms. Syander's gaze. Seeing her brown eyes when they were angry was just plain scary. End of story. I don't care how brave you are, how many horror movies you've seen. You haven't felt fear until you've seen this chick's death stare. It was like that of a viper, or a python. About to make their last strike, the one that brings you to your grave. Those two eyes cut through you like steel knives, sharpened over and over and over again. It turned your insides icy cold and you could actually feel yourself shiver.
Of course, by now, I'm used to it. So, the part about shivering, and the part about feeling real fear, for me, those go right out the window. I was so used to Ms. Syander's stare by now I could smile at her without a problem. I almost did one time, almost laughed right in her face. Anyway, this is what she said. "To the office, Avira." she said, almost ominously, as if she were sending me to my death. And I kinda wondered if she really was.
I ripped my hand out of her hard grip and stood up, shoulders tensed and squared, eyes as icy as [Thou whose name shalt not be spoketh/[Thou whose name shalt not be spoketh]], and twice as hard (I'm assuming). With the strength of my hand coming out of hers and the time she had to brace herself, (None) she practically fell. I tried my best not to crack up laughing right then and there and replied, "Fine." Now, when I did this, I put as much anger, as much hate as I could possibly manage, forcing my grin back. I really tried to make it seem like I was pissed.
Right then, as I turned to the door, I felt the jolt of electricity run through my cellphone (The stolen one), as I carried it in my hand. Quickly, I decided right now was definatly not the time for text messages and slipped into my pocket, where it'd be safe and sound.
Opening the pale, pine wood door, I stomped two steps out of the room, slamming the door behind me as hard as I could. I swear on my life that I heard a crack, but that could have just been me. Plus, I was just a bit too worked up to turn around and look.

Five Minutes Later

Jaws gritted so tight my teeth hurt, I slumped down in the soft, plush chair in the office (What a great chair) and looked down at my ratty sneakers. (These black things were pretty worn, but they worked great. I've had them for five years and they're still holding up. I'll never, ever get rid of them. Not these skater sneaks.) Now, I had plenty of time to think about how I screwed up. Again.
My phone. I closed it too quick, too hard. I shouldn't have let it make noise. It would have never alerted Ms. Syanders if I did. Well, it's too late for this now, but it'll come in handy next time. Because there won't be a next time. I'll make sure my phone's as quiet as a mouse, even quieter. If it's possible. Ms. Syanders will never know.
As I thought of the woman, I grinned to remember her face. When I tugged her off of me, the expression she pulled was just as good as a Hallmark moment for me. If not better. No, definately better. I don't do Hallmark moments. Sorry. But now, the more I think about it, the more I remember of it. She stumbled, (Well, she definatly stumbled, to say the least) waved her arms about, flailing to try and find some balance, and swore. Oh yeah, she swore alright. I heard it. Clear as crystal. Well, you could imagine any and every word you want to, but I heard her say "Shit." Not the best word ever, no, but I guess in her case, it fit well. Well enough.
"Ms. O'Reily? Mr. Roy will see you now."
Wow. Hey, thanks again Mrs. Johnson! I glared at her. She knows I hate my last name, yet she still insists on using it. And, I've noticed, I'm the only kid she calls by their last name. But hey, I guess it doesn't matter. She knew my anger weakness. (One of my many) Just as Ms. Syander knew I hated my first name.
I knew she hated me, (I could tell by the dark vibe I got, like the all of the world's evil shoved and pushed themselves into the aura, just when I was there) and I think I gave her the impression that I hated her. Or at least I hoped I did.. I wanted to, anyway.
Whatever. I got up out of my comfy seat and stalked over to Mr. Roy's office, my head held high and chin raised, arms neatly held at my sides, without even a glance at the secretarian I hated so much. I'm glad I didn't look over, I swear to God I would have punched her dead in her face if I did. And that wasn't exactly the best option for me right now. (But I could still feel her glaring at me.)
Stepping inside the small office, I stood in front of yet another soft chair, tempted to take a seat. These things look really comfortable. Instead, I only stared at the short, stalky man in front of me. He typed at his desk, not even taking notice of me. I glimpsed the monitor slightly, wanting to see just what was more important then me. Big mistake. I almost puked.
On the monitor I only caught a few words, but it was enough to put someone in a coma, from shock and disgust. I don't even want to put them down, but if I don't, you'll miss some signfigance that happens to me later, so I have to. Here's what they said:

StudMan465: Hey Babe.
UserA: What's up my big man?
StudMan465: Just missing you. What are you wearing?
UserA: Lolz, Nothing. :P
StudMan465: I was hoping you'd say that. Lolz.

I couldn't go on. It was too gross. Too utterly disgusting. Really, I almost gasped, almost screamed at him. Didn't the school block stuff like this from happening? He shouldn't be allowed to get on that site. I shook it off pretty quick, the fat man turned to look at me, simotaneously turning off his monitor.
The door of the office shut, signalling the fact that I was now alone in a room with this perv.
"You may take a seat."
I stood there. How smart of me. I guess I had an attitude., (I probably did.) because I just glared at the sick, twisted man.
Studman465 didn't even notice he was too busy looking into some big notebook. Hopefully full of schoolwork. Important, dumb, and boring stuff that was to be done in this crappy building they call a school.
He was writing something down when he finally sighed.. I could practically smell the frustration and utter defeat coming off of him. (I tried to block out the feeling that I could smell his lust.)
He didn't look up. "Cellphones, property vandalation, insulting teachers, fighting daily..." his voice drained, drifting off to some distant land far, far away. Wish I was there now. I almost felt sorry for the guy, really. I guess he was running out of options and ISS was getting old.
Mr. Roy looked up at me, despair and seriousness swimming in his hazel gaze. "I don't know why you do what you do, but I can't help you if you don't tell me your reasons. You need to talk to me."
I stared back at him blankly. Like I was going to tell him what I was going through, why I fought. He wouldn't understand. I just got so sick of being pushed around, being messed with, I took things into my own hands. I decided to go with violence. I'm a natural, really.
Once again, he let out a raspy sigh, the balding man did. "Alright O'Reily, one more false move, one more slip up, and you're going to have to find a new school. I'll have you expelled from Wilson High." His tawny eyes turned hard, like steel. Just as Ms. Syander's had.
Well, at least now I knew I screwed up.

[Rain]

Chapter 2: I Get To Eat Some Meatloaf
January 3, Wednesday
Age: 16

Once again, there I was. Seating on a seat. A really, really crappy, cheap, fake leather seat. God I hate being on the bus. I tried getting burried into my Artemis Fowl book again, but quickly gave up on it. I know those books are pretty childish, especially for a 16-year-old. But I think they're funny. However much lil' Arty tries, his feelings always irrationalize his desicions. And if he does follow logic, he feels guilty about it.
It was almost as Eoin Colfoer was tring to teach me not to let the soft feelings show. And I knew this lesson even before starting this silly series. Fear, grief, worry, disgust, mercy, not even happiness. I didn't let any of these little feelings show.(Well, maybe not disgust, 'cause I really do find some people gross in their own little way). For a young, cheery person to pull this off would prove an impossible feat. Until I came along. Dark clothes and a badass attitude, with guts to back it up of course, was all I needed.
I remember when I was a kid, still a little 6-year-old. I used to feel like nothing could stop me. Not even the fact that my stepmom was a drunk that loved to get high on meth. I didn't realize it then, but now I can put two and two together.
I was fast and stealthy, my skinny form and long legs making me move faster than any kid on the block. It was an awesome feeling. Or being curious about everything: What made glass? How'd they make TV's work? Why use money when you could just trade stuff? That's only some of the questions, but I don't want to go and recite my whole head.
Avira O'Reily used to be one bright kid, energetic and spritely. She got honor roll in every grade, and would practically cry when she didn't get something right, then go back and figure it out herself instead of asking for guidance. Her parents loved her dearly, and her pet Molly seemed to be the best teddy bear she had when she felt lonely or sad or had some bad dream.
Now she was close to being a dumbass dropout, expelled from school, forbidden to get a chance for a real life. A good life. She was failing every grade, in ISS or OSS(Out-Of-School Suspenison) every other day, bullied by almost every other kid she knew, and growing even more distant with her mother, father, and step mom alike. (Not that I actually like Marian anyway.)
She grew in to sleeping problems, put on some bulk (the type that might make her look menacing), and the bright, cunning look in her icy steel gray eyes faded, only to come back when she stole.
Okay, so now you know a little bit about me. And as you can figure, I'm a loner. Alright fine, let's not sugar coat it. I'm a loser, plain and simple. They treat me like I'm some sort of freak, because I wear boyish clothes and I somewhat resemble Frakenstein's creation. I tend to keep to myself, unless someone does try to challenge me. Then I move into action.
Hense this new attitude and wardrobe, along with my own words of wisdom that don't really go beyond this: Trust No One.
Great thoughts for a ninth grader, eh? Especially when she's supposed to be in eleventh.
I sighed and looked up to see that the bus was nearing my home. Great. Home. I frowned bitterly. 1 nice, rundown apartment with peeling, white walls, leaky faucets, and a slight roden issue.
But I had to struggle to keep back a slight smile. My mom would be home, trying to find something to cook, something from the food pantry that could actually be put to use. She didn't care about my grades, how I looked. She loved me no matter what, and I knew it. As long as I was healthy and not crying, she didn't show the slightest sign of shame or misery, dispite her only daughter's awful reputation.
I stood from my seat, grabbing the back of the false leather bus seat in front of me for leverage as the yellow automobile began to brake. I stepped forward into the aisle, refusing to meet any of the eyes staring up at me as I glided down the bus like water sliding over ice. By the time the driver had the door open, I managed to half grunt, half mutter, an empty "Thanks." and jumped down the three stars onto solid ground.
Well, it might not have been necessary, but I still rose up my right hand and put up my favorite finger, teaching my peers a bit of sign language.

As I was saying, we're pretty poor. Now more than ever since my Daddy'o left my mom. He was an architect or something. I don't know exactly, it's been four years since I've seen him, and I don't care if I live the rest of my life without seeing him.
See, he decided my mom wasn't worth the trouble. Decided life and a family based on love and trust just wasn't for him. He left me when I was 5, a month before my sixth birthday. (What a B-Day present, eh?) My mom had just gotten over from being in the hospital with a broken arm and was still recovering. I can't remember how it broke, but it was something big. Maybe I have Post-Traumatic Stress or something.
Anyway, he joined up with some tramp blondie and had a couple of rowdy, rough boys, tossing me and Old Ma aside. We were old news.
Me? I'm not too thrilled he left. I could've used a father to help me learn to fight better, some new tactics. But I don't let it get to me. It's not like I have abadonment issues. Depression doesn't and didn't occur, not about him. Not until the dreams came about, and I wake up a dozen times a night. It's annoying, yes, but it scares me to death.
One time, I woke up holding my throat, as if some one were choking me to death. (Actually, I have a lot of dreams like that) I think I fight in my sleep since I wake up with big bruises and nasty cuts. In my nightmares, I fight a lot. I mean, a lot. And just when I'm about to find out whether I win or loose, I wake up in my bed, in a cold sweat gasping for air to fill my empty lungs.
I love my nose. It's not my best sense, but it works. It's almost as bad as my ears, really. Maybe some kid damaged it in a fight or something, but now I kind of toss my sense of smell right out the window. Regardless, I could pick up the mouthwatering scent of my mom's meathloaf. Garic, parsley, basil, possibly some salt, and definately bread crumbs. Okay, so maybe my nose isn't that bad.
Then it hit me. My mom.
What was I going to tell her? I know Mrs. Johnson had made an extra effort to make sure she called my mom. She knew. I was an eyelash's length away from being expelled from Wilson High. Then I'd have no where to go, and I'd bring Mom down with me.
I lost my appetite as soon as I hit the door. Grimfaced and shaken, I took a really, really deep breathe and forced myself to wrap my trembling fingers around the ice-cold metal of the door knob and gripped it hard, trying to anchor myself back to Earth.
Alright, I'll stop here for a second. Let's get things straight, shall we? I may sound like some drama queen trying to make everyone feel sorry for her, but that's only because you've only heard about my life. You've never actually experienced it. You've never had to do the things I did. You have no right to judge.
Like I was saying, I opened the door and stepped inside. It was a lot warmer in my small little home, so it made my chilled fingers, ears, and nose burn quite a bit. You know, like putting a cold foot into warm water. With a back pack strung upon my shoulders, I finally realized how drained I felt, and how tired my limbs and eyelids were. School always tired me out. It was mostly due to the dumbest lessons ever that bored you out of your mind and left you absolutely exhausted. Every fricken day.
So I slipped my bag off and let it hit the cheaply-tiled floor like a deadweight, giving up my chance for stealth. Stupid me. Mom would know I'm home now.

"Avira?"

Hey, what do you know? Am I good or what?
I sighed, feeling even worse. My mom was just getting over the flu, but she refused to leave work. So she sounded just and exhausted as I was, but slightly worse.

"Hey Mom." I called to her, coming out slightly louder than a whisper. I tried to conceil the guilt from my voice, not ready to tell her the bad news. Not yet. I didn't need to worry her, she had enough problems on her plate already.
But if she was worried, she didn't show it. Not the slightest bit. (She never does.) "How was school?"

Yep. Same old mom.

"Great." I said, sounding a little enthusiastic. I should be an actor when I grow up.
"Good. Dinner's almost done, I hope you're hungry. Can you set the table for me, please?" she asked, leaning her head from behind a wall in the kitchen so she could see me, a wide smile on her smooth cheeks, hazel eyes glistening with pain and happiness. What a horrible combination.
"Sure, no prob." I answered.
Steam billowed, shuffling followed, and I could guess mom was pulling out dinner from the old oven we had to call our own. Or, rather, the landlord's own.
I pulled out some plastic plates and cups from a book case on the east wall, only two of each and plain in color, and put them down on the table. The ply wood one, with two stools on either side. I took out some silver ware from a drawer in the book case and put a fork and knife down by each plate, a pair for both of us. They gleamed in the dim light, and I was happy that even this metal could gleam like ice. Not everything had to be precious to be seen as precious.
As I headed to my own stool, I watched as a great mass of fur stalked under the table. A Bobcat. A big brown one, with fine soft fur with not a single marking on its coat. Well, except the ankle collars it's black stripe made, and the neat little pattern on its neck. I can't really explain it, I'd have to show you a picture. It hissed as it probably went to get its own dinner, in this rodent-infested house, it couldn't be hard.
"Molly, knock it off." I scolded her, chasing her away by threatening her with my worn out sneakers. I wasn't exactly keen on hearing squealing noises while I ate. Just like I wasn't keen on throwing up on the table.
My mom has this uncanny sense of timing, she can come in at the right moment any time she wished to. And sometimes, even when she didn't want to. It was amazing, and it still is. I wonder if all mom's have that sixth sense. You'll have to get back to me on that one.
As soon as the two plates were set down, and the silverware sat beside the dishes, Mom was catering out our meal. She popped into the room, carrying a cuttingboard of sliced meatloaf and peeled, baked potatoes. Yum.
"Hungry?" she repeated, a faint smile on her face. I guess she just had to make sure that I actually was hungry.
I stared up at her, hiding my confusion. See, before I was ready to shovel a whole cow down my throat and then go for seconds, possibly top it all off with a big glass of milk. But that was earlier, now I wasn't sure if I wanted anything to warm up my cold belly. I didn't know how to answer. But years of lying automatically did.
"You bet." I replied, not even thinking.
She smiled a little wider and put the hot tray of food down on our plywood table, right in front of me as she sat down in her own chair, getting comfortable. "Good."
I followed her pristine example and sat my butt right down at the table, on my own plastic lawn chair and pushing my chair in. I sat up straight, just as she'd taught me to and bowed my head, closing my eyes as I left my hands in my lap. I wated for a nice little prayer to start.
Mom was real religous. She believed in God, Jeseus, the whole nine yards. Well, nine and half when we're talking about my mom. She takes the Bible as her personal history textbook, as if the whole thing was real. It's my belief that if she read that Moses had jumped off a cliff, she'd do the same. Without a parachute, mind you. She always prays before meals, before bed, and whenever else she feels it necessary. Even when she claims she feels "lost". If I prayed when I felt lost, I'd be praying 24/7.
She never lost faith, not even when we've sank past rock bottom. The worse things get, the more she prays. I really do think its sad. I want to go up to her and scream in her ear, "God's got nothing to do with this!", but she'd probably just smile at me and pray for me. I never told her I didn't believe in God, because I thought she might actually kill me if I did. (But then again, maybe not since it's against the Ten Commandments.)
So, I waited, and waited. But I got nothing but silence in return. What gives?
I peeked open an eye to look at my mom, only to meet those hazel eyes, feeling them claw against my skin. Is she telepathic too? God, she scares me.
I almost jumped back as she contined to stare at me, evilly. Like I did something wrong. I met her gaze, looking on with confusion.
I finally gave in. "What?" I cried out, so lost at the moment. Should I pray? Nah, I'll pass. Come back next week.
"You know better than to have your headphones at the table, young lady. It's rude and disrespectful." she growled at me, her eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing.
That's when I realized how her voice was muffled and my ears felt all stuffed up and sweaty. Duh! My earphones! I still had my MP3 player going, as it played California Dani by Red Hot Chilli Peppers. (Good song if you have no clue what I'm talking about. YouTube it.) I yanked out the black cord, cold air hitting my ears and my throat started itching. I ignored it and fumbled to shove my electronic deep into my hoodie pocket, shutting the little machine off in the process.
"That's better." she closed her eyes and bowed her eyes, I knew enough to do the same.
Then, I did my best to trying to block out the noise my mother was about to make.
"Dear Lord our savior, we thank you for the beautiful feast you have blessed us with. And we thank you for all the blessings to come, Amen."
"Amen." I played along, just as I always had. Then, it was time to eat. But I still wasn't hungry, my belly seemed cluttered and nauscious. I was reluctant to eat. Very reluctant.
My mom, on the other hand, had no trouble getting her mouth full. She picked up the fork with such fast reflexes, she made Spider-Man look like he had down syndrome. Meat went flying at the speed of light into her mouth and potatoes weren't far behind. She was already going for seconds by the time I had hesitantly picked up my fork. You'd be surprised to know that she was as thin as a toothpick, thinner probably.
I shoveled my food around, trying to have a little fun, though I failed miserabley. I held my chin up, my back straight against the chair, desperate not to look miserable. I even forced a couple of potatoes down every few minutes. Time seemed to be going in slow-mo though.
"What's wrong?" Mom picks up negativity pretty damn quick. Try her, just don't be surprised when not even a second goes by that she asks you this very same question.
"Nothing." I answered quickly, looking down at my plate. God, this sucks.
But she didn't pressure me.
Five long, boring minutes dragged on ever so slowly before I got bored enough to hear my cellphone buzzing. I was somewhat shocked, yet again, since it was one silent. Yet I knew I had a message. Don't ask me how, but if I was bored enough, I could hear a mouse nibbling on pudding a hundred yards away. No lie.
I pulled out my handy dandy cellphone and slid the keyboard out, the phone instantly coming to life with light. A screen popped up and told me I had a new message. I took no hesitation in opening it. My day couldn't get worse.
Cat's Den at 7. See you there.
My jaw practically dropped and I looked at my watch. 6:50. I could still make it if I hauled ass. I didn't want to leave Colt waiting.
As I looked up, I saw Mom looking down at me and knew she had caught the urgency in my own gaze. I guess. I couldn't bear to let a second at the Cat's Den slip away. Hell no, not my haven. It was my only sanctuary, the one my mom had no clue about it.
"Going somewhere?"
I was shuffling through my dishes, not even knowing, piling everything up so I could bring it out to the sink.
"Budd y of mine is going to help me with some tricky Algebra. Really important I get this stuff down." I lied, still putting things away, but no intentionally.
"Constantine?"
As I looked at her, I could see the big grin on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest, and the room seemed to warm up ten degrees. I hope I wasn't blushing. I had no reason to.
"Yeah, he's helpin' me out. Can I go?"
Now she was hesistant, keeping her smile as I waited for her answer.
"Please?" I pushed.
She nodded and I could have hugged her. Yes! Cat's Den! "Go on. I'll leave the door unlocked for when you get back."
"Thanks Ma." I gave her a quick, gentle pat on the shoulder and headed back out of the house, leaving my backpack by the door. So much for homework. Like I was gonna do it anyway! Ha!
It was pretty damn cold out tonight, even for winter. Snow was caked on the ground eight inches thick, trying to infiltrate my sneakers with icy slush each step I took. Every tree I passed was bare, its limbs sticking out like dried up, shriveled arms, long past their expiration dates. Even the pine trees seemed to have lost their green spirit in the frigid cold. I didn't blame them. Besides the fact that snow was everywhere, the sky ceased to let anything else fall. It was snow, snow, snow. No hail, no rain, just snow. It was really, really, boring. Skies must be saving all the crap for later, so that they still had a way to make our lives miserable. Possibly for a day I was actually beginning to enjoy.
Now, for someone in a thin hoodie four years old like me, its pretty easy to say you'll freeze your ass off. Two blocks in the winter makes twenty miles in the summer look like a fun walk in the park, one with italian ice and dogs chasing frisbees. But I didn't care, not much. I didn't really have to take notice until the last ten, twenty yards to the Cat's Den.
Shaking off the cold was probably the hardest task.
Glancing up at the old, run down building, I grinned. This was why I was here. This dump, so to speak, had become a second home to me, somewhere I could gather my thoughts and pull myself together. Anything was possibly at the Cat's Den.
Placing a hand on the wall, I ran my fingers down the white, chipping paint that had become coated with ivy (Now dead.) and some spots of rotted mold that I had become so familiar with. I pushed when I felt a single crack in the wall, a vertical one. A secret entrance, Colt himself had installed, opened up and gave me access to my underground heaven. I crouched slightly, so I could move through the three foot tall space and into the dark of the abandoned bakery.
Old cash registers, broken, cracked display cases, and really, really old furniture littered the ground, broken pieces of glass and wood filled every other bare spot of the floor. Maroon used to color the walls and snowy white claimed the trimmings, but it was so faded the maroon looked like a soft pastel pink and the white, well, you couldn't fade white. When the place was open, I could guess it was beautiful. Especially the cherry wood floors, I loved their dark, rich colors. It's too dull to know what I'm talking about now, but still, you wouldn't believe it.
I already cracked open the register, and boy did that $250 help. (Oh yeah, I forgot to mention on pretty big on thieving, so watch out.) One time I came in here, when it was all abandoned, and I smashed in the display case with kicks and various punches. Took me a while to calm down. I forgot what really ticked me off that time, but I get that way when something really pisses me off. So it's probably a good thing I'm in here today.
Besides the fact that glass littered the floor, I silently moved over to the display case and pushed it out of the way.
Yet another opening showed itslef, along with a long coil of rope snaking down to the dark abyss below. A dim light shone, hitting the stone formation and making the light turn a murky brown. Musky smells came and bit at my nose, but instead of recoiling, I leaned in and inhaled. Yup. Cat's Den.
Grasping the rope in my hands, I took one last breah of the surface world. Here, I'll even name what I smelled: sewer, dumpsters, car exhaustion, and even some gun power. One of the homeboys must have gotten on someone's bad side. Here in this city, we've got a few gangs. But hey, who cares right? I can tell you the cops sure as hell don't.
So I tightened my grip and wrapped my legs around the long snake of rope and slid down into the dimlit darkness. it wasn't hard, I mean the first time it was torture. But, as they say, practice makes perfect. Eventually, it became as easy as climbing down a flight of stairs. Easier, even.
As soon as I felt moist soil underneath my feet, I let go. I was safe, on solid ground. Ilooked up and saw the small opening from which I came, now about twenty feet above me. Hense the need for a rope. Stifling a sigh, I ignored the fact that anyone that could find our secret entrance (The one I had carefully replaced after entering) could easily find this and get a little curious. And then I could kiss this place away. They'd discover my secret home. My personal sanctuary. it was not a happy thought.
"I know, I'm not sure what to do about it."
I didn't even jump. I knew who it was. Voice as smooth as honey, yet strong and full of humor. Yeah, I knew who that prick was.
I didn't turn yet, but replied to him anyway as I continued to look up at the hole in the ceiling. "Stop doing that Colt, you freak me out when you do that."
I couldn't help but grin though, there's my buddyboy. My good ol' pal, my right hand.
Turning around, I met his gaze. Momentarily freezing, I blamed it on the cold frost in the air and kept moving. Unfortunately, he was still staring. And laughing. He was laughing pretty hard, actually. He had some sense of humor, that guy. Time I ended it.
"Yeah, yeah, funny boy. Why don't you shut up and keep those moss eyes of your on the pole. You gotta bite." I broke up his party.
That made him jump and he whipped around to see his pole whipping around, the tip twitching and flicking. I would've laughed harder if he or the pole fell in the water. They didnt' though, so I was just chuckling. But it was funny anyway. That bite of his was still jerking his grip about though, and he was struggling. I hoped it didn't take his pole. Because then I'd have to share mine, and sharing wasn't exactly my thing.
Oh yeah, because you're probably confused out of your head, I guess I'll explain. Just so you know what my, our, Cat's Den looks like.
For starters, lush green grass layers the dirt ground, making it soft. No dew down here, so no worries about getting wet. When we were a few years younger, before Colt quit stealing, he snatched a couple dozen bags of Kentucky blue grass seed or something like that. He covered the dirt with the seed and watered it, every day. After two weeks or so, we got a lawn. Nice addition, ain't it?
It's a really, really big basement. Like three hundred feet by three hundred feet. Something like that, I could be underestimated, I could be exaggerating it. I'll never go and actually find out how big it really is. All stone foundation, the walls lined with thick rock that looks like Limestone to me. Once again, I could be wrong. I think they insulate the place, because it never gets too cold, not even now. A slight chill, but nothing more. No columns to hold the building up. Guess they had really good architects or something to build the place.
Over in the front, there's a small pond. Don't ask me how it got there, I just keep telling myself it's from flooded rainwater, not sewage. Something must've dug into it since it's like thirty feet deep. I tried finding the bottom, but I couldn't.
And that's why we have these lovely fishing poles. We saw life, fish jumping, lilly pads growing. It's really cool. Niether Colt or I know how it happened, but we don't care. I, at least, am just happy its here.
Moss grows occasionally, but not much. It's too dry down here for a lot of the stuff. So no, we have no wierd, funky mushrooms to "look at the pretty colors". If it's one thing I don't do, its drugs.
At the side of the pond, me and buddy boy managed to drag down these two tree stumps, big enough for seats. They're really warm and comfy. He put this sealment stuff on it so no bug decides its more snug than a rug or something. And it no longer rots, it's water proof.
I noticed a few times that water voles hang around here, which brings some feline visitors. They're all thin and skinny, but some are fit and beautiful. I give them whatever fish I catch. They could use it more than me. Sometimes the cats, feral or stray, come up to us, curious. They let me pet them for a few minutes, but they always wander off again. They always get spooked. I think its because I'm human, and wild cats don't hang with humans. Like they're breaking some anciet rule or something. I don't mind.
I sat beside the water, on my stump, and rubbed my chilled hands together above a small flame I'm assuming Colt had set up. It wasn't big, but it wasn't smoky, which was convienent. I loved it. It was so warm and soothing, but I was never too comfortable around fire, so I didn't get too close. Although I do wish I grabbed some marshmellows or something of the sort. Throwing them at Colt is fun, but I guess S'mores are cool too.
O glanced over at him, watching as he fought hard with the fish on the other end of the line. He seemed to be having a tough time and I was weighing my options, for what I could do. How I could respond to the current situation.
Help him out
Stay at the fire and warm up
Push him in and have a good laugh
Throw in my own pole and show this sonuvagun how to catch the monsters
For the few moments I sat there debating what to do, he had hauled in his quarry.
"Are you kidding me?" I heard Colt whine, and I looked up from the hot flames.
An old leather boot hung drooping from the string on his pole, and I nearly fell onto my ass laughing. "Hey! I think its your size!" I laughed at him.
He glared at me, his emerald eyes pinned on me. "Shut up!" he said pathetically.
I laughed a bit more, relishing the moment. "Make me." I stuck my tongue out at him, teasing the crap out of him.
"I will!" he growled back at me, smiling somewhat sheepishly.
"I'd like to see you try." I taunted, leaning toward him, calling him out, egging him on. I'm such a little instigator.
Grumbling, he turned away and unhooked the useless shoe, drenched in water. I decided to follow suit and catch something worthy of being called a fish. I picked up the light pole I had for myself. Bringing it back, I pushed down on the line and swung it forward, letting go of the line as it soared through the air and landed neatly near the eastern side, right against a crowd of lillypads. I let my pole sit on the ground, so I could lean on my knees and stare into the water, loosing myself again. I was lost in thought.
I'm gonna get expelled. I'm gonna get expelled and then me and Ma will have to move again. She'll have to find some other job at a crummy Burger King or something, and then I'll have to do the same. I'm sixteen, old enough to quit school. But Mom doesn't want me to. She wants me in a school, she wants me to have a better life....
Oh who the hell cares? I'm moving and I won't be able to see Cat's Den, I won't be hanging with Colt, and I'll be forced to find some other friend. Which, of course, I doubt will happen. I stifled a sigh. God my life sucks.
"What's wrong?"
Snapping out of my head, I looked up to see Colt staring at me as if I head three heads or something. "Huh?" I said briliantly.
"You're biting your thumb. What's up?" he replied.
I looked down slightly without moving my head to see I actually was biting down on my thumb, a dumb habit I can't grow out of. I let go of my finger and saw the dark purplish-red line pressed against my skin. Only a few seconds more and I might have broken skin, which has happened before. I swore under my breath, practicing my colorful dictionary of vocab, and looked up innocently at Colt.
Short stings of pain pulsed through my thumb to the base of my hand. Isn't it amazing how little boo-boos hurt so much, but a broken leg barely makes you blink?
"Well?" Someone was loosing their patience.
I paused and looked down at the pond, its surface looking glassy and crystalline. So pretty. I finally sighed and decided to man up. Or Wo-Man up in my case, I guess. I met his gaze, with an even feeling that I could pull this off. I could tell him what was going on, just like I usually did. And that I wouldn't totally loose it when he found out I was about a whisker's length from getting my sorry ass kicked out. Because really, let's face it, Colt was too good at picking my lies out. He was like this ultra brand of lie dectors. He was the Brawny paper towl version of mind readers. I think it would be awesome if I could read minds. Do you realize how many tests I would ace?
So, I spoke up. "I got in another fight today." I smiled sheepishly. I held up my arm and pulled back my shirt sleeve to show a fierce greenish bruise, still in the process of forming. "Pretty, ain't it?" I grinned.
He crossed his arms, not convinced. "Come on, tell me." See what I mean about that mind reader thing?
I sighed again, looking down at the grass, then forcing myself to meet his emerald glare, shining furiously. "Alright fine. Mr. Roy told me he was gonna expell me if I got in trouble again." I felt my eyebrows furrow, so ticked. It was like opening a freshly healed scar. And believe me, I've done that before. Not fun.
Me? I didn't wanna look up at Colt, so I kept my eyes on the pond, kept looking at the murky water, imagining how good it would feel to be in the cool depths right now. Instead of here, instead of imagining how pissed, sad, shocked, or dissapointed he was. Or all four. I hated it so much.
Of course, it all took a little time to digest. Even back in the school, as I walked down to the lockers, hitting each one as I neared mine, I had a little bit of fury to work off before I really go what it meant. I was on a short leash, too short for my likings.
Eventually he sighed, sounding way too much like Mr. Roy. He didn't have a laptop with him, did he?
"This ain't good, Vixen. Not cool. Not at all. Your mom know yet?" he asked, curiously looking at me with his depressing gaze. Man, what a mixture of feelings. Made me wonder what I was feeling in all this, and I still can't come up with an answer.
I shut my eyes, fantasizing myself opening my eyes only to find this ancient old guy, hundreds of years way too old, giving me my daily dose of Words of Wisdom. Not cool. So not cool. But, I was almost jealous of him. He was so smart, he was always at the ready. Colt always knew what to do, loads smarter than I could ever be. What was my IQ? Probably in the negatives. Him? Oh, only in the two-hundreds. And I'm not kidding about that. He really was a braniac. He just never told anyone. No one but me.
But, being the idiot I was, I looked up at him, feeling so much agony. "How can I?" Let's think about this now. I'm already the worst kid she could possibly be stuck with. "I can't bring myself to tell her."
I thought I felt a bit of mist in my eyes, but I was probably just imagining it. I hadn't cried since I was a little itty bitty six year old.
"Fine. Just don't do anything stupid, got it?" he looked at me, meeting my eyes, eagerly searching me for the truth. Creep.
I nodded dumbly, though. I was too numb to do anything else, I felt so lost.
"Use your head. It's the only thing you've got going for you, Vixen. If you get too ticked off, count to ten and think of your happy place. No more free passes, one more slip and your gone. For good."
I looked back down at the water, holding my pole loosely in my right hand, just so I can feel vibrations. That's my fisherman instinct going on auto-pilot. Silence was probably the best thing I could wish for right now, and I was thankful to recieve it. But it tricked me, denied me one wee wish. Guess Colt didn't like silence as much as I did.
"Avira." his voice was now pretty dark, really serious. So I looked up at him, like a little kid would when their dad yelled at them, automatically finding that angry gaze even they didn't want to.
"Do you understand? Like really comprehend this?" his jaws was set and I could see he wasn't a happy camper. How could he be pissed at something that didn't even involve him? It kind of made me mad, actually. But his gaze was like two gleaming stones, and they froze my spirit, melting my ferocity. It scared me more than anything in the world. Ever.
"Yeah. I hear ya." I murmured, feeling the strength in my voice drain. My spirits were loosing altitude like a dive-bombing falcon that forgot how to swoop back up at the most vital moment.

[Rain]

Chapter 3:
I'm Late. For A Very Important Date

I'm swimming. Well that's all cool and everything 'cause I love swimming. But..... Why am I hanging out with an otter?
He's swirlin' all over the place, screechign and yelping, freaking out completely. And I'm catching it like its some sort of Brazilian disease, or Californian wildfire or something.
Worry is clawing at my belly and I start flailing. Where the hell am I? What's going on? Where the fuck is the surface? Looking up, I was forced to realize that there is none. I was trapped in an underwater chamber, surrounded by the murky depths and this crack-head otter. Drowning. I'm gonna die.
What the hell? Why me?
Then I hear it. A really, really loud growl makes me to turn to my left, spinning around like a ballerina on a perolet. It was all graceful-like, but who pays attention to stuff like that in life-or-death situations like this? I'm terrified, there's absolutely no blood-lust rush to help me out. Adrenaline's not even kicking in. I'm loosing the fight before it even starts.
Then I get to see it. Well, I don't actually see it. More like the jaws of it. Giant jaws filled with sharp fangs and humango canines. Id didn't even think I had the air to squeeze out of my lungs for a decent scream, but there it was. The shrill piercing call of horror, and it didn't even distort itself, even with the fresh water shoving its way down my throat. How cool was that? It was like the kind of scream you hear in a movie theater, in those horror flicks, when someone's gonna die. Only difference was, this scream was real, not Hollywood, and the I was the one really dying.
I tried to struggle backward, but I found my back shoved against this ice cold, stone wall smoothed by the water's currents. I stared in horror as those slightly yellowed fangs neared me, but I could do a damn thing.
This thing was finding me a way easy target, those glittering points closing down on me and...

* * *

Gasping, sweating, and practically crying, I stifled a scream and held myself, sitting upright in my crummy bed. I was soaked in my own sweat, as if I really had gone for a swim.
I could still hear myself struggling for air, trying to fill my drained lungs. They must be feeling really fricken stubborn because no matter how much I sucked in, nothing seemed to be accepted. It was like they were ignoring me.
I closed my eyes tight, strengthening my grip around myself, possibly keeping myself from falling to pieces, as the icy air in my room stung my skin. During which time, I kept forcing myself to say "It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a fricken dream. " Then I blinked and looked at my blank wall, now turned a dark gray in the night. "Great. Now I'm yelling at myself. I can imagine that's real healthy."
It all seemed so effin real. The water and the way it pushed and rolled itself over my skin, cooling every partof me. How it made me choke and splutter, but the wierd thing was that I only started acting up when that.... thing came about. I never really felt threatened about drowning.
I rubbed my pounding temples, eager to get them to stop. My fingers kept slipping over them, my skin slick with its gross layer of sweat, still being chilled and frozen.
Looking over at the clock, I saw it was 3:17 in the morning. Not bad for a night's sleep. My brain must not be as up and about as it usually was, 'cause I've only had about three dreams tonight. The daily dosage of dreams like this is about five a night, depending on my day. Each were as wierd and chaotic, and yes, horrifying as the last. And I could never make sense of any of them.
I slept pretty well tonight, despite the fact that I almost peed myself.
Speaking of pee....
I jumped out of my bed, suddenly aware of my bladder, feeling pretty close to bursting. It hurt really bad, stinging against my belly, but the pain was pins and needles from the inside of my belly, not just biting at my skin.
As my barefeet hit the cold, laminated floor, Molly came up to me. She mewed, looking innocently up at me. The Bobcat flicked her long, tawny eartip and rubbed against my leg. "Come on, not now." I whispered harshly at her, dodging her first attempt.
It was always an obstacle course with Molly, she followed you everywhere.
But I survived it, I get to keep my bladder another day by dodging and hippidy-hopping all over the place as she went to trip me up with her furry paws. I was able to silently sprint out my room, down the hall, and to the bathroom. (A.K.A. the first door on the right.), do what I had to do, and came right back out.
Now, when I came out, I realized I wasn't too tired anymore, only slightly groggy. My exhaustion was gone. Damn. What was I gonna do now?
I could change my bed, it was all sweaty and gross, and it was the best option I had.
So I did. Turning on the balls of my feet, I went back into my room, as quiet as the stars, and turned on the lamp in my room. I tore off the skimpy blanket and stripped the matress of its sheets. It all ended up in a pile of sweat-soaked linen. I even ended up putting my whole pillow in a hamper basket. (An old cardboard box I found outside of Cat's Den.) The small box was overflowing now, but it was still too late for me to care. I figured I'd take care of it and wash the crap tomorrow, if and when I got time. After school.
Seeing that my mattress was still slightly damp, I made the extra effort of flipping it over to its dry side. Fising out a blanket from my closet, I dropped it in its own little pile on my bed. (I had a large supply of bed dressings since this usually happens at least twice a day.) I went back over for a new pillow, but fell into slight dismay when I realized I didn't have anymore of the fluffy luxury. I thought for a moment, then steathily decided to get my coat. It'd be satisfying enough.
Before I did so, I decided I'd been in soaked clothing long enough and changed into some new light ones. Thin, loose pants of black I figured were made of cotton, and an even thinner gray T-shirt that went down to the base of my knees. Yup, really big clothes serve for really good P.J.'s.
After the small detour, I headed out in our short hallway and into our considerably small one-size-fits-all room and found by the door our makeshift coathook. I grinned with satisfaction to find my jacket. This one was thin with absolutely no stuffing in it. Really, it was actually a hoodie, but I didn't care. Soft, comfortable, yet hardy and able to endure anything. I love my coat.
There are a lot of things that suck from being poor. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. But, there are a few benefits. (Besides Food Stamps.) One of which, just happens to be my choice of coats. I don't have to go out in this big, thick eskimo puff wintercoat. My mom can't make me, she can't afford it. So I guess my life isn't as much as of a hell as I would imagine.
So anyway, I took my comfy coat (hoody) and headed back down the hall. Just like I was supposed to. You know, the good little teenager? As I did, I let my mind drift. For some reason it fell onto my mother, about school, her working so hard, and me being the worst kid in the world. Now, why did I first think of Mommie Dearest? Well, I just don't have an answer for you. So there. Anyway, she was supposed to be at work by now. She's supposed to punch in by 2:30, so I've missed her by a good hour, seeing as though the time had passed and it was now about 3:45.
I passed her room. Almost.
I suppose I got curious or something because I dared to peek inside. My breathing was steady, not expecting to see anything or anyone special, just an empty bed with a lot of fumbled blankets thrown about it. Even after my horrible nightmare, I felt fine. The room was completely pitch black, but from the bathroom (of which I had left the door wide open) the nightlight brightened up the soft, black blanket of the night which stretched over into my mother's domain, only slightly.
There she was, in her bed, all snuggled up like a bug all snug in a rug, in her big fluffy blankets. But she wasn't supposed to be there, not now.
"She's hiding something." I whispered to myself, so quiet I almost thought I didn't say anything. Then, "She's not the only one with secrets."
A thought to tuck away for later, but now? I had to get to bed. Unfortunately, a soft mew came from within the room, and I turned my head slightly to find two glowing silver eyes, lined with a soft amber color. They were pretty, but scary at the same time. Think about it, two eyes? No body? Can't blame it on Casper, I just saw him last week, and last I checked, he had brown eyes. But I knew better, thankfully.
"Molly." I chided her quietly, desperate not to wake my mother. "What are you doing?" I tried to act tough, but I could already feel a happy smirk playing on my face.
The bobcat was standing on my mom's computer desk, the one in the corner of her room, facing away from the door. With her paws perched on the coputer's montier, she looked directly at me and meowed again.
"Come on, get off." I stepped forward and clutched the giant cat gently in my arms, and put her softly onto the floor. She padded off, with yet another one of her meows, with a purr trailing in its wake.
I was just about to leav ewhen I noticed the glowing orb of green light coming from the tower, from the power signal thing. The computer was still on. Mom. Doesn't she know she's wasting electricity? Evidently not, or I have the world's youngest patient with Alzheimers. But no worries, I sure was the conservitive one.
Wiggling the mouse a bit, I brought the moniter back to life. No password, my mom trusted me. Big mistake, but what can I say? She's way too trusting. And I didn't even have to worry about the light, the monitor was dimmed already, so there wasn't much light to bother me or mom. Cool.
What I saw next was really wierd. A big title with pretty foo-foo words spelled out in golden writing LoveWorld.org. And beneath it, in minor size spelled out in that same disgustingly girly writing, Find Your Inner Romance.
Now, I'm very prone to throwing up. But thankfully, because of my hardy, steel-like stomach, I can stop myself from doing so. So, what's my vomit factor now? Well, on a scale from 1-10, I'd say about a 7.5. With, of course, 10 being the worst and I definately would throw up, whether I wanted to or not.
Anyway, the questions came up right after the urge of upchucking. Why the hell would she bother with this kind of pathetic place? God, if you're really up there, let it be known to all that this really sickened me.
I guess it didn't bother me too much, since its only online chatting, no one making out or anything, but it did make me think of my dad. What a great role model. Why would my mom even try to find someone else when she had my asshole-of-a-father to remember?
Whatev. Back to bed. I shut the system down with about two clicks. Its soft buzzing eased, then ceased and I left the room, just as silently as I came. Dude, I felt like an effin ninja.
I creeped into my own room and sank into my bed. How soft the spring loaded sponge could be. It was glorious. Kind of.... Well, no. Not really. But I was able to get halfway comfortable with my head resting on my coat. And I drifted off to sleep, slowly but surely, with about half an hour's worth of tossing and turning. And this time? No dreams.
Thank God.

* * *
My muscles ached, my head throbbed, my eyes stung, and my poor effin eardrums pulsed. On top of it all, my whole body stung with cold. Somehow my blanket fell off during the night, leaving me as one very unhappy, very unlucky camper. Yay.
I turned my head to glared with violent menace at the the alarm clock on its nightstand, beside my bed. 7:32. Late for school. Again. But hey, I'm always late. Why switch up the schedule?
I'd rather stay home, but I can't ditch 'cause then Mom would know. Not that she doesn't know my predicament now, I'd bet money on it that she did. Even if I don't have the dough on me now.
But whatever. Time to get up.
I lifted my stiff self unsteadily unto my aching elbow, then pushed my body to sit up. Rubbing my tired eyes, I swung my legs clumsily over the bedside and onto the cold tile floor, my toes screaming in despair. Poor things, need a hug.
I stumbled over to my plywood dresser and pulled out a black tee and a matching pari of black, baggy jogging pants. Again, made of cotton, not that polyester crap.
Took off the cozy pajamas, slipped on some real clothes, then I went back and took my coat/hoddie. Fashionable and warm, how much more could you ask for. And here's the grand bonus, it's in my favorite color. Black! I put it on and walked out, heading to the bathroom. My bladder had filled. Again.
Went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, my hair, and washed my face. When yet another mew came my way, I saw Molly leap easily and gracefully up onto our sink. Her water!
"Sorry girl." I apologized stupidly. And yes, as you have noticed, I talk to my cat. Don't you?
Anyway, I don't know why I said that when I know she can't understand me. Never the less, the Bobcat seemed to blink and nod slightly as I filled the sink with water, putting the stopper on to hold the water in the basin.
I pushed my black bangs out of my face and left.
Out in the livingroom/ kitchen/ diningroom, the table was cleared and spotless, as was the sink. Mom did dishes and the table? Usually she didn't have the time time nor energy to do both. Boy, she must've been on a role.
I grabbed my bookbag, not too inclined to find out why, and I opened the door, only to practically fall on my ass.
"What the hell?" I shouted, glaring at the sandy-haired teenager before me.
"I could say the same. Where the hell have you been, Vixen?" Colt growled at me, having just as much menace as I did. I just loved how he could meet me evenly, then I'd have to pull out a little more than he did, and he easily met up. Man, it annoyed me.
I stood up and crossed my arms, my jaw automatically tightened with attitude. "In bed, dumbass. I just got ready for school. Would you like to know the brand of toothpaste I used?"
Despite the fact I had insulted him, his frown formed into a slight smile, possibly half-grin. And, thankfully, his eyebrows lessed on their intensity, his green eyes lightning as well. "Very funny."
"Only the best for you." I looked down at my fingernails as I sarcastically replied.
Colt didn't respond to that. He more or less ignored it. "Do you know what time it is?" his eyebrows yet again furrowed a bit and I was nervous, but in a few seconds, I could decipher it was just curiousity in his voice, no anger.
But I was tired and cold, and not even for my best friend Colt hear could I shush the sarcasm and bitch-ness of me.
"What, we playin twenty questions or somethin'? No I have no clue what time it is. When I saw the clock last it was like seven thirty."
Colt actually raised his eyebrows at that, he was surprised. "Avira, it's twelve thirty." he said slowly, sympathetically. "In the afternoon." he decided to add, after about three milliseconds.
I felt my own hands clench fiercely and clamped my eyes shut for just a short blink. Well, maybe longer.
"Fuck!" I cursed, rubbing my sore forehead. "First the dreams, then the damn cat, now I'm late for school, and I am soooo getting expelled." I muttered, crouching against the wall of the room, seeing as the hallway part of the room was only about three, maybe three and a half feet wide. I closed my eyes and ruffling my short hand with both hands, tried to steady my breathing, with no success.
"Dreams? What dreams?" Colt asked, yet again curious. Why did he ask so many damn questions?
I looked up at him, meeting his emerald eyes, full of heightened curiousity, with an icy glare. "Nothing."
Readjusting my book bag, I slipped past him and started walking, ignoring the freezing crunch I felt every step I took in the really cold snow. "Come on." I said, keeping my eyes on the red Chevy Blazer ahead of me, "If I'm lucky, that dumbass principal will still let me in."
Colt followed, like an obedient dog. What a good little pet. "Right, right. Get in the truck, I'll get you over there."
Nothing like a friend to help you out on a bad day.
I didn't hesitate. Opening the door of the truck, I slid into the passenger seat, surrounded by way too neat, way too clean interior.
My best friend was beside me in moments, putting his seatbelt on and grabbing the big leather-covered steering wheel. He put the vehicle out of park and into reverse, expertly backing out of my parkinglot. Rocks cracked and popped, making me a little nervous and slightly on edge. The last thing I needed right now was to pop a tire, but Colt didn't seem to be the least bit worried.
Next thing I knew where were on solid, smooth concrete, racing with traffic. I don't exactly pay attention to directions very much, so I'm not going to even try and explain where we were. You don't need to know, this boring world of mine won't last very much longer. Keep reading, you'll find out.
I sat staring out the window, forehead pushed up against he ice cold glass. I let out a silent sigh, and the warm air fogged up the small section of glass in front of my nose.
The winter was harsh this year, blizzards and storms coming every other day, one after another. No one trusted the weather man anymore, the weather was unpredictable and did as it wished. Kinda like me. Well, sort of.
Now the roads were covered with thick with dirty brown slush. Undoubtfully, black ice was everywhere. I was hoping we would hit any, not today. I continued to gaze out of my point of view. I could see dimly lit yellow lights of the city to the right, in my seat. Next exit was our stop.
The snow as storming down on us, and sight was limited. But I guess Colt expertly knew this before. Duh. Of course he did. The Chevy's headlights blared with unbelievable luminosity. He must have replaced the bulbs and fiddled with the wires to up the wattage, turning this farmboy truck into a military-grade automobile. Man, I wish I had his brains. I wouldn't be about to beg Mr. Roy for my slot in school, that's for damn sure.
"So what's up?"
I turned my head, looking blankly at the driver as he briefly glanced at me and the road, back and forth.
"Huh?" I'm so smart.
Grinning, Colt repeated himself. "I said, what's up?" he said slowly, looking hard out of the windshield, focused on the road ahead.
I rolled my eyes, but found myself smirking.
"Nothing much, ol' buddy, ol' pal." I replied sarcastically, in my all-too-good redneck accent. I'm really good at accents, and its fun to practice 'em.
He chuckled to himself, then talked a little more. "You wanna here a funny joke?"
I stared at him in disbelief. What. An. Idiot. "A joke?"
Nodding furiously, he kept his gaze locked on outside. "Yeah. A funny one."
I held out my hands, "Sure, go ahead. Hit me with the best one you got."
He shook his head this time, "Can't hit ya. Mom said I can't hit girls, but I'll tell you the joke." he said, silly goose.
I rolled my eyes at him, still a little puzzled at his behavior. He never really acted like this before. He was one bright braniac, too smart for common idiocy. You know, my type of stuff.
Anyway, he went on. "Why'd the chef get arrested?"
"I have no clue Colt. Why?" I said, sighing.
"'Cause he was beatin' an egg." he laughed aloud at that, and I just looked at him with a bewildered gaze. What the hell?
I decided to change the subject. "This sure is some nice weather we're gettin', huh?" What a dumb thing to talk about. But hey, it was better than discussing probation regulations with the chef who beat his egg.
He seemed to snap out of it then, like he was fighting his own head. Two split personalities, only one could win. (Cue the dramatic music)
"I know what ya mean. The pastures are packed with snow, and we had to keep the horses inside while we try to unbury the fields. I'll tell you what, Fawn wasn't too happy about it." he said, his voice still groggy, but getting better with every word.
See, Colt's a born-and-raised farmboy, but with no hillbilly accent. (You are allowed to fistpump at this point of time.) He lives on a big ranch his parents own. They breed horses there, mostly this breed of drafts called Belgians. Whatever they are.
But that "Fawn" he mentioned? That's his horse. A mare. She's a beautiful black horse, with silver dappled all over her back in fine, neat patterns. Like a perfect Dalmation coat, painted right onto her. Silver on black, she's gorgeous. She's a mustang in her prime, and she's the most graceful thing on that piece of property. I love her to death. Colt let's me ride her, never alone, of course, but he does. He makes sure that's sitting right behind me, holding the reings with me, like I'm a little toddler. Mostly because he doesn't think I'm capable of riding a horse on my own, with my city roots and all. Normally I wouldn't put up with it, but this is Fawn we're talking about. I'd give up my own lung for her, nothing's too good for that horse. Nothing.
"It's only January, it's gonna get worse." I pointed out, sadly. Why couldn't spring just get here? I looked back out my window, settling back in the soft seat.
"Or it might level itself out." Colt mused.
I stifled yet another sigh. He always looked at the brighter side, even if there wasn't one. It was so annoying, he made me look emo. Maybe I was. To me, there wasn't a bright side. For moi, there was a bad side, and then there was the worse side. No good in either. It was a choice of two bad endings. Always had been, always will be. Always.
You know what? This is dull. No, it's not dull, it's worse than that. It's boring. Seriously, I'm writing all this stuff down and I'm practically falling asleep on the keyboard. I can't even imagine how bored you are. I'm amazed you got this far into the book. So you know what? I'll cut you some slack. Let's skip ahead to where my life starts. My real life.

[Rain]

Chapter 4:
I Got Mail

So, my life? Oh God, what a life. It's hard to explain, so I'll just say how it all started, and what's happened. And oh, did I mention my legacy? My great destiny? Well, we'll leave that little tale for later, I'll let the climax build up. You know, get a little suspense going. All that good stuff.
It all started in March. A Thursday, to be exact. I'd managed to be a good little Vixen all through February, just like Colt told me to, and only got in trouble for minor things. Stuff like yelling back at the teachers and ditching classes, and the occassional stealing problem. (It's a habit I gotta break, I know.) Stuff like that. But when I hit March, things went a little haywire. I got a little edgy and things just weren't goin' so well. Here, let's begin with how I got expelled from Wilson High.
Now that I think about it, it seemed more like a freak accident. A fun one.
Average Thursday morning, I rolled outta bed and struggled to get my daily headache under control. My skin tingled with numbness and various itches. Gnarled, frizzy hair made a messy blanket over my eyes and I struggled to half stumble, half trip my way to the bathroom, doing my darned best not to kick poor Molly and her pale, plain tawny coat. (And might I add her ankle bands were looking marvelous today. She must have groomed them recently.)
I turned on the shower, got undressed and hopped in. I did the usual, washed and conditioned my hair, and it responded by easily smoothing itself out, looking more like hair than a bramble bush now, brushed my teeth, and washed up with some awesome smelling soap.
Turned off the water, hopped out feeling quite rudely awake, and grabbed a towel. Soaking wet, I went over and filled Molly's sink, yet again stopping the drain for the bobcat.
And let this be known, to everyone: For all the hell I go through to help her out, she'd better be frickin grateful. Especially when she seems to make herself a living obstacle course. Every. Effin. Night.
Then I patted myself dry with my handy dandy towel and wrapped myself up. I felt so much warmer, and I was pretty happy with that. As a matter of fact, I felt pretty damn good. I went to my room thinking, Today's gonna be a good day. To this waking moment, I still cannot figure out if it really was a good day, or a living hell.
I walked out, with more control over my feet, and traveled back to my room. Got new clean clothes, got my coat, and I bundled up. Looking at my clock, I was almost grateful to see I was on time. 7:54. I had six minutes to chill.
So I went on out to the everything room, as I like to call it, and went to the sink to warm up my hands with some more hot water. My fingers were getting a bit chilly.
And guess what I found? A nice little note, to my surprise. Wanna know what it said? Here, go ahead, read:

Avira, (Well, it actually said O'Freak, but same diff, right?)
Just like to let you know in a few months you're probably gonna get a new loser sister or brother. Me and your mom had a great time last night, thanks for being so quiet.
From your favorite pal,
Derrell.

Well, here's how I reacted:
I took the note in my hand and crunched it together, into a little oragami snowball. Then I went and ripped it into shreds, fury sweeping over my brain, glazing everything a blazing white that hurt my eyes a little.
While I let the pieces float down to earth, I got a glass plate and smashed it hard against the wall, the ceramic shattering immediately. My fist followed, going ahead before my head could process that I was punching the drywall.
My hand went straight ahead, scraping my skin harshly, and probably causing a few bruises among the trickles of scarlet liquid. Oh yeah, in case you hadn't guess it, I was pissed.
I let out a furious roar and pulled my arm around. That's when I heard a shift of air, right behind me. Whirling around, I used my fury and felt the rush of adrenaline roar through my bloodstream, making my ears pound.
My eyes wild and teeth bared in a very audible snarl, I probably looked like a rabid animal. I pulled my arm back and took a fast swing at the person in front of me.
"Vixen!" Colt dodged me like I was a tortoise and he was the hare.
I stopped slightly, backing up against the sink, breathing heavily. I barely moved a muscle, but my lungs were on fire.
Colt caught sight of my arm and rushed to it. "Dear God. What the hell happened?" he asked, grabbing it fast, but gingerly.
It shut my crazed eyes for a second, shutting out my vision. "Renovations came early." I said simply, gasping for air, nodding with my eyes still shut to the direction where the hole in the wall was.
"Jesus, Avira." he said angrilly, but I could sense the worry in his voice. "Come on, get under the sink." he turned on the cold water and turned me around. It was my turn to be the obedient dog.
Yeah right. I stopped, shaking him off. "I don't need your help, okay? Just gimme a sec."
I opened my eyes again and leaned heavily against the sink. I put my pounding head on hands and grimaced at the feeling of the sticky blood on my head.
I practically growled like a wild dog and shut off the cold water, whipping the hot water on as far as it would go and shoving my bad arm under.
"Avi..." Colt began, using my other pet name. But I stopped him.
"Shut up. I don't care."
Searing hot pain sliced into my arm, making my wounds scream. They were only minor scratches, but like I said, the little things hurt like hell while the big stuff was a walk in the park.
I hissed in my breath, holding it, then let myself relish the agonizing feeling until my adrenaline subsided. That and the fact that hot water kills germs was the only reason I'd pulled this little emo stunt off. I had to wear off my adrenaline, otherwise I wouldn't be able to focus, I couldn't think straight.
I worked furiously to clean off my head and arms, then shut the water off.
Releasing all the oxygen in my lungs, I took a deep breather and chilled out for a sec.
"What the hell was that all about?" Colt asked abruptly. Great timing.
I opened my eyes again, whipping around sooo close to loosing it. I started seeing red.
But his wide, green, concerned eyes shut me down, shut it all off. I sighed, feeling defeated and weak.
"Derrell. He must have busted in last night."
He looked rather puzzled. Of course he knew who Derrell was.
And for those who don't know, that's his brother. Half-brother if you want to get technical.
But he was still looking pretty damn clueless, so I tried to fill him in. I tried to, anyway.
"He left a note saying-" I trailed off, looking at my feet, trying to blink away the anger.
"Saying what?" I could feel Colt's gaze burning into my neck, making me get goosebumps, but this time, I refused to look up.
No, no confessing this time. I wasn't a little baby. Besides, Derrell had crossed the line this time. So I bit my lip and forced myself to look up with a slight smile on my face. "Nothin'. It's nothing. Can you gimme a ride to school? I think I just missed my bus."
He met my eyes and I could tell he was trying to see if I was lying. If there really was something wrong. And duh, of course there was. Derrell was gonna have quite a bit wrong with him when I was through.
But, Colt being Colt, trusted me and dismissed the worry. Yet again, what an idiot.
"Sure, grab your stuff. Let's get outta here." he smiled at me.
I grinned back, one looking innocent and friendly. But I was full of deviousness and demise. Oh yeah, I was cookin' up quite a plan inside my demonic little mind. I felt like one of those mad scientists or somethin' on T.V.
So I grabbed my stuff and left my rundown joint, wrapped up tightly in my warm and cozy hoody.

[Rain]

Chapter 5:
Sticks & Stones Might Break My Bones, But My Fist Can Crush Your Nose

After fifteen minutes of driving on a slick highway road, we made it to Wilson High. I'll tell you what it looks like, to give you a picture and all that fun jazz.
For one thing, it's an old church, actually. Really old. Still, it's structurlly sound. It looks like an old fashioned chapel: steep roofs, lots of ledges, lots of fancy statues, stained glass windows at least fifteen feet tall. Now, you know how their small and compact? Imagine it stretched out, like a piece of Play-Doh. Big enough to incorporate enough classrooms for 1500 students, scattered from ninth to twelvth grade, then make room for a really big gym, an auditorium, and who could forget my all time favorite cafeteria?
So, maybe its not your average church. It looks more like the Barcelona Church. You know, that big one in Spain? No worries if you don't, I had to Google it myself. But picture that, with a big sign draped over the doorway with a big cricket that says Wilson High Grasshoppers. Oh yeah, we're way scary. Fear us bugs.
Colt patted me on my back reassuringly as we walked up the stairs, 'cause we're just that friendly. "Take it easy, kay?" he smiled at me, one that kinda lit up my day. The type that let me know someone had my back, I wasn't alone.
I grinned back. "You got it boss." I replied, looking back on the doors as I pushed them open.
Not much left to say about the classes. Colt left, cause he was the same age as me, 16, but in eleventh grade, and I split to my locker and droned through the first six periods. There were only twelve a day, no worries, but my nerves were itching to ge my hands wrapped around Derrell's throat. But I forced myself to chill out and be patient. My time would come.
Let me clarify why I'm so ticked off. No, it's not really what he said on the note. He wasn't that bright, so it wasn't that insulting. I could tell he just threw together what sounded good, whatever his dim brain could whip up. It was just the fact that he actually broke into my house while I was in there and then had the nerve to let it be known. And then he just had to cross the line and bring my mom into it. My mom.
Meanwhile. Lunch! My favorite class of the day, one I didn't have to work in. One I didn't have to ignore teachers in. Only about have my grade was shoved in at a time, which was about seventy-five kids.
So, while the monitors and lunch ladies weren't looking, I snuck my freshman ass ou the door leading to the fire escape. I was out of that hell, and heading toward my paradise.
And up I went, all the way up. There were four floors, so eight flights. It wasn't too bad, but I had to dodge under all the windows to avoid being caught. I've only been caught twice before, but I didn't exactly believe in the third time being a charm, especially with my amazing luck.
When I finally made it to the top, I looked for the drain pipe sticking to the brick wall. (Hey, even churches had to have gutter systems.) My last ascent, up to the roof. Or roofs, I should say.
I grabbed the ice cold steel and almost recoiled, the feeling of the pipe numbing up my hand immediately. But I pushed onward, like the tough little cookie I am. Five minutes, three pounds, and eight feet later, I scrambled up the ledge of my sacred place. My second one. Not even Colt knew about this place.
I was easily up in the air three hundred feet, on an inch thick concrete ledge that was more than likely older than I could count. You do the math.
Me personally, I'm scared silly of heights. and at this dizzy point of elevation, it was enough to make me bawl.
But that's why I was here. Well, not to cry exactly, but to face my fears, or at least try to. Sure, its not exactly the brave feat Superman would be proud of, but it builds up my tolerance of heights so I don't suddenly freak out when I'm six inches off the ground or going into the elevator.
That's another thing. I'm really paranoid. You know what? I'll make a list. My fear list.
1.) Heights. I prefer the ground, if you don't mind.
2.) I'm paranoid. So I don't like crowds. At all. They freak me out. Really, really bad. I get edgy and and a bit jumpy. One little thing and I go totally beserk. But no worries, I'm working on it and I'm really close to having it under control.
3.) Exits. Gotta have somewhere to go, an easy escape route. Always.
I'll let you know if I can come up with any more.
So, I cleared off a little snow from the thin ledge and I laid down uncomfortably on the stone, leaning my back and head on the brick wall. I instinctively shoved my hands in my pockets and sighed. Today's plan? Pretty basic, I'm not into confusing stuff.

Survive this ledge. Again.
Find Derrell.
Kick the living crap out of Derrell
Deal with Mr. Roy and hope I don't et expelled
Find Colt
Get home and sort things out with Mom
Fill my belly with some darn good meatloaf (potatoes being optional)

Not bad I guess. Nothing too hard, too complicated. And #3 is sounding more and more fun with each ticking second. I still can't believe he had the guts to leave the note. The only reason I can think of why he did it was beacuse I was on my last leg, they had me on a damn short leash. He knew I couldn't do anything to him. Unfortunately, Avira O'Reilly was never one to do what she was told. (And yes, I know this is bad.... For him.)
So now I had a bit of downtime, fifteen minutes. Well, more like five minutes now. After my hiking trip up here.
I gazed at the statue directly ahead of me, on the corner above the edge I climbed up. It was steel gray, with some chalky markings. Must have been from the snow or something.
The great stallion reared, and the angel warrior was frozen in time, in the middle of a roar of fury, holding his sword high. And, like a hundred times before, I couldn't help thinking how awesome it would be if that thing was real, not just a statue.
Well, I didn't really like the idea of angels since I don't believe in them, and I never thought swords were cool. But regardless, I still wish it were real and not stuck up there, to endure the elements forever.
As I looked longingly at the horse's wild mane, a beep on my watch told me it was time to go. Now.
So, I crawled backwards over to my departure ledge and took a deep breath, filling my lungs as I hoped to God (Yeah, right.) that my feet would find the pole for like, the millionth time.
Man, you don't know how pissed I was that I missed my footing.
See, what happened was that I found the pole and latched my feet around them, then worked one hand onto the pole, while I was keeping my weight on the other as it still clutched the ledge, to keep me from falling three hundred plus feet. In other words, to my death.
And you what happened? My hand slipped.
Down I went, too scared and shocked to scream. I thought I was for, my life was through. The only things I could think of was Derrell's smug smirk when he found out I was dead and Mom's horrible sobs. Poor Mom. I wish I could've-
OW.
Well, that hurt like hell. I fell onto the fire escape, approximately five feet below me. Give or take some. And you could bet your sweet butt I wasn't a happy camper. I mean jeez, if I was gonna die, then get it over with. Don't tease me. Unless, of course, you don't fance your life.
The wind was knocked out of my lungs and all I could feel on y back, shoulders, and head were rossettes of new pain, blossoming to spread about my body. Not much adrenaline was there to numb it, so it hurt just as much as it should.
I lay there gasping, trying to get my head thinking straight. Trying to get my eyes to stop seeing doubles. Letting my eyes rest for a couple seconds, I felt my breath regain itslef and I sucked in fresh oxygen. I breathed in slow, ignoring the icy stabs of frost that clung to the air I took in. Then I looked at my watch, 12:48. Late by three minutes. Two minutes more and the hallway would be clear, no doubt about it.
I forced myself to struggle to my feet and take one wobbly step after another down the eight flights of slipery metal steps, not caring if teachers saw me.
I was just about to open the cafeteria door, unconcerned with being caught since I knew the place would be cleared when I heard that it wasn't.
Nope. Instead I heard a whimper. A soft, pathetic one. One you'd hear when all hope was lost and there nothing left to do but cower. Then, "What's wrong Jared? Mommy not here to protect ya?"
I knew that sneer. Oh yeah, I'd been waiting for that sneer all effin day.
Derrell.

Well, there was no backing out now. (Not that I was gonna.) I took one strong breath and shoved the old, creaky door open, an automatic look of scorn on my face. Or, at least, that's how my face felt like it was being held.
There was Jared, poor little scrawny, geeky tenth grader in an empty cafeteria, facing off with Derrell Jones. A nerd's worst night mare. My heaven.
Last I heard, lil' Jared here reported Derrell to Mr. Roy when he found out that Derrell had pot. Got him suspended for three weeks. Guess Derrell thought revenge sounded pretty good. It did to me.
And there was Derrell. Thick body, weighing in at like 190. Face covered with acne so bad you could play Connect-The-Dots. He was as tough as a bull, and as dumb as one too.
Jared whimpered again, then his blue eyes fell on me, and I saw a surge of hope break into his sight, and he whimpered a plea to me.
That's when Derrell caught on and turned around, his ugly face full of surprise when he saw me, only to grin ear to ear when he recognized the oppertunity. He tossed Jared over and face me fully. "Hey, lookit here. O'Reilly. How's your Ma doin? We had so much fun." he taunted, and I felt blood push through my ears.
He was so dumb it pissed me off.
I faked a smile. "Well, well. What da ya know?" I started casually, stepping forward. I stuck my hands in my hoody's pockets and clenched them into fists discretely. "My old pal Derrell, chilling out with Jared. What's wrong Jones? He won't do your math homework again?" Jared was too frozen with fear to react with anythign I was saying, let alone join in. He was probably doing the smart thing anyway. Lie low and nothing bad will happen.
I glared at Derrell, "What's wrong, pal? Two plus two getting too hard for ya?" I asked, almost innocently.
I saw jaw clench and his dark, brown eyes narrowed. "You got a lotta nerve bein here, O'Reilly." he growled at me, his hands visibly turning into huge fists.
Jared saw what was about to happen and ran.
"Oh yeah, I'm shakin in my sneaks." I continued to push him, a grin on my face. I'd have him pull the first move. I found defense to be the easiest.
And man was it a swing.
He growled, pulled his massive arm back, and before I could register what was happening, a huge fist impacted my face and had my arse on the floor faster than you could say "Doctor." Which, of course, is exactly what one of us is gonna need in a few moments.
Nothing like a good old fashioned punch to get your adrenaline kicking.
Pain blurred my sight, for like three milliseconds. I was flat out on my back, starring dizzily up at the ceiling, recovering.
That's when I saw Derrell jumping in the air, about to elbow my skull in.
"Oh no you don't." I muttered, rolling over at the last second and hopping onto my feet.
His elbow made a nasty cracking sound as it hit the stone floor, and I guessed he at least fractured it. He cried out a roar of pain and fury and got up.
Derrell was one tough cookie. I will admit it.
Now, let's take a moment of pause here. First, I'd like to point out that when I read (Which is like, never), action parts always seem better with loud actiony-type songs to go along with it. It kinda gets me into the zone. So, one I suggest would be something like "All American Nightmare" by a band called Hinder. Now, I know its got nothing at all to do with my current situation, but the heavy guitar cords just make you want to get up and smash something, don't they?
I stood there, waiting for King Kong to get up so I could out a move to pull on him, to get him to fall again. But I couldn't think, my body was thinking for itself, on autopilot, ignoring my thinking part.
Derrell was getting off his stomach, staying off his right arm as he used his other to get on his feet. He was stumbling and looked unstable, and his face looked pained. I probably lost a good oppertunity, letting him up. And you know what? I actually almost said sorry.
But that's not how I do things.
My body lurched forward and I ducked easily under and through his legs as he tried to punch me out again, with his left fist this time. But it made him slower, less accurate, gave me a longer chance. Gave me the break I needed.
I got an extra surge of energy as I turned to face his back and jumped. I wrapped my arm left arm tight around his throat, pushing my elbow with my right arm to put a good choke on him. Planting my feet on his back, I got a good vantage point, and it wasn't that hard to stand on his back, with him being so massive and all.
Anyway, he wasn't happy about it. He roared and reached over his shoulder, only to cry out with pain as he used his injured arm. I tugged a little harder on his neck, looking for some way to beat him.
I could snap his neck, but I didn't exactly want prison to be an option at the moment. I wanted to beat the guy, not kill him.
He reached back again, using his other arm, and grabbed my throat, on a lucky grab. Immediately he started pulling.
Fresh pain erupted in my neck and I felt like my head was about to pop off. I had to do something. Now. Before I lost my head.
I pulled harder on his neck, and I coudl actually feel the airway tighten. He started spluttering, but wouldn't give in. I gave him a little motivation and starting kicking him hard with my right leg, aiming for the ribs. As I did, I kept my hold tight on his neck and tried to bend my head slightly and bite his hand.
I did it. I reached my jaws over his wrist and clamped down as hard as I could, ignoring the awful taste, hoping I'd break skin.
He cried out again, twice, simotaneously. Once in pain, more of a loud grunt as I found my foot jabbed against his leg. He gasped, and then when my incisors felt his flesh, he screamed. It sounded like pain, but now I could hear traces of fear too.
I guess he couldn't take much more because he let og of my neck and I let my teeth off him. The he let his legs go out and he was tumbling toward earth.
I leaped out from off of him, and almost cleared the giant's body, but my left foot got stuck under him. It hurt like hell and it was my time to cry out.
I sat down and kicked out with my right leg, desperate to get him off of him. Derrell must have stunned himself with the impact because he didn't respond immediately.
I yanked my foot out, sneaker and all, despite the furious pain, and straddled the great beast. I looked hard at Derrell, manning up, ready to give my opponnent his last attack.
Now for those reading this, let me just say something.
Don't do this at home, kids.
He was dazed, but as soon as I was sitting on him, his eyes jolted open and he gave a light, but drowzy growl, raising his arms up to try and clumsily grab me. His arms were way too slow and he was far too out of it.
Unfortunatley for him, I moved way too effin fast, with all the fury fueling me. I pulled my head back and grabbed the collar of his red flannel vest. Then I clenched my jaws togethe, no need to cut my own tongue off, and swung my head forward.
My head hit his fasce, right below his forehead. I heard a crunch as my head crushed his nose. Pain hit my head like a ton of bricks and made me woozy.
One more Word of Wisdome: No one wins with a headbutt.
But, I did. I looked down at him, to find blood gushing from his nose and he was passed out.
"Try fucking with me again." I growled at him, standing up.

Boy was I surprised.

It looked like the whole school was crowded around me, joy and fear, with surprised wrapped all around it, written on each and every face I saw. Even some teachers. Everyone cheered, except the adults.
I looked on, dumbstruck. When did they get here?
I smiled slightly. "Hi guys." I said casually, lamely.
They just kept yellin and cheering, thrilled with the show me and Derrell put on. If only he could see it.
"Did you see that kick?" one geek said to another.
"I didn't know you could stand on someone like that." some diva said to her boyfriend.
Tons of stuff like that was spoken in the few milliseconds I had to live in, feel my pride swell.
A hand grabbed my sweaty wrist and pulled me.
I was so close to defending myself when I met the emerald eyes glaring at me. I bet you can't guess who it was!
Yep, that's right folks. Colt, right on cue.
"What the hell are you thinking?" he hissed at me.
I wasn't suprised at his reaction, but it didn't mean I had to be nice, nor did I want to. "I was thinking of how dumb your brother looks in a busted up nose." I retorted sharply, venom practically dripping out of my mouth. If only.
He took one look at me and I thought he was going to burst. "Let's go. Now. Before some officiall shows up." Nothing like a friend to show up and suddenly be the world's biggest buzz-kill.
Colt tugged me forward, not loosening his iron grip on my wrist, as he pushed through the crowd.
I followed, grinning from ear to ear dumbly, as people patted me on the back, congratudlating me. Guess no one liked Derrell. I sure as hell didn't.
Out the back exit we went, into the freezing cold and icy snow. Spring was coming around, but it was still cold as hell outside.
He dragged me all the way to his Chevy and then stopped. He ignored me for the moment and dug in his truck.
After about three minutes, he pulled out a rag.
"Stay still." He muttered, coming next to me, too focussed on the job at hand to speak correctly.
He began dabbing the cloth all over my face, which I now realized was coated over and over again with my blood. Colt touched my nose with the bloody rag and I winced. "Ow." I tried to pull away, but he grabbed my wrist.
"Sorry. Stay still." Colt said, more gently. He wasn't as angry, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes as he stared at my nose.
I clenched my hand and let my hand tense as he wiped my nose, trying to clean it up. "Is it broken?" I asked. The guy was like a doctor, he would know.
Colt's eyes were serious and focussed, and he didn't meet my gaze. "Yeah, I think so. But the bleedings stopped. Here, bite down on this." he gave the small hand towel and I bit down on it, as hard as I could, knowing what was about to happen, and tasting the iron tang of my own blood. It tasted really wierd. It's funny, I've never tasted my own blood before.
He grabbed my nose and took a breath, as if he really didn't want to do it. But I did. "Do it." I mumbled through cotton.
Colt responded fast as lightning. He snapped the bone of my nose back in place and I sucked in air, fighting to keep tears out of my eyes.
And then, it was over. My nose still throbbed, but it would heal. He grabbed at the cloth in my mouth, and I pushed his hand away. Colt didn't argue and I took it out myself, just like a big girl should.
I grinned. "I betcha ten bucks you're gonna have to do that again with-" I was cut off, smothered as Colt hugged me.
I was frozen with confusion, my hands limp, but tensed as Colt talked. Well, more like whispered. "You have no clue how worried I was. Derrell's three times your size. Where were you thinking?" he murmured with all seriousness in my ear.
"Um Colt?" I started, still spluttering with confusion. It was like twenty below out here, but my face felt like it was in the Bahamas, on vacation. But then, I felt annoyed that he was actually worried about me, and kind of snapped. But I tried at least a little to be nice when I said, "Can you get off me?"
"Oh." he stopped, tensed, and let og. "Sorry." he muttered, his voice low and trembly, his face and neck turning a healthy shade of red. Healthy for tomatoes, that is.
I nodded, opening my door of the Blazer. "I gotta get home and explain this to her before the school does." I said, climbing in.
He must have known I was talking about my mom, since he responded immediately. "Right." Colt closed my door before I could and hopped in on his side. "Buckle up, you're in for one helluva ride."
"Awesome." Was all I had to say.

Chapter 6:
Mr. Roy Gets Paged
You still here? You still hanging? Of course you are, you still have my back. Why wouldn't you? Well here's another question for you: What do you think of Colt and I so far? Hang on, let me make things clear with you, my silly little pet.
You're right if you guessed Colt loves me, but you're thinking of the wrong kind of love. You're way, way, way off. I've known the guy since I was around seven, we grew up together. Colt and I, we're like... tight. Really tight. He loves me like a little sister, and he's my big brother.
Which pretty much explains every single argument we've had. You know how siblings fight all the time right? Come on people, some of you guys have little sisters or brothers, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You can relate when I say its really effin' annoying.
Hang on, I'm getting reports we're experiencing one right now.

"He could've killed you!" Colt once again pointed out, as he veered his handy Chevy onto the exit. We're on my way home. To my place. Where I get the fun job of telling my dear mother what happened at school today. And unfortunately, it wasn't disecting frogs.
"And I could've killed him. But did I? Nope." I retorted sharply, glaring at him, but my voice still low enough to be called talking. "You saw me back there, I had absolutely everything under control. He had nothing on me." I growled at him, getting only somewhat ticked off.
Colt glared back at me, meeting me with the same steely gaze. "Wanna say that to your nose? Or how 'bout one more time, nice and loud to the neck that almost got torn into two?"
I crossed my arms over my chest. "No thanks Dad, I'll pass."
He shut up then. He knew my old man, and he hated him every bit as much as I did. Thank God.
But, of course, it couldn't last. Silence never does. Colt doesn't believe in peace and quiet, remember?
"Why would you pick a fight with Derrell, of all people," he let go of the wheel for like, a millisecond. "anyway?" He was back to drive nice and steady, what a nice guy.
Now, even as I decide what to say, I had a little list building up in my head. And, me being me, I couldn't decide what to say, so I said them all. "Hmm.... Let's see. One, he's a complete jerk, two, he thinks he rules everyone, including you," I gave him a hard look, harder than my usual glare. I saw his pride falter, but I kept going. I was too stubborn to stop. "Three, he was picking on four," I stopped. I didn't want to tell him about my little welcoming note. It just seemed to embarrassing.
But Colt made it seem like he was cutting me off. Cool. "Alright, alright. But you didn't need to go all Battle Royale on him."
"What?" I turned him, my voice raising, my spirit flaring. "He started it! He punched me in the effin' face! Do you see my nose? And you think I was gonna just let him go? Scott free?" I could feel blood roaring in my ears, "Oh hell fucking no. Not me." I lowered my voice to a regular talking tone, but I was still really pissed. I think I was overdueing it, but I kept going. As I spoke, I looked out the windshield, pantomiming and raising up my tone to a squeaking little girl's. "Oh no, my mommy's Catholic. I can't stand up to you, its against my religon."
Colt let out a sigh and turned the wheel as we pulled into the drive way. I was home.
"There's a difference between standing up for yourself and fighting. You're just as bad as him. You-"
I was already reaching for the door when I heard the click of the auto-lock. I felt my blood boil as I stared out my window, his gaze burning into the me.
He coninued, "you jump to fighting and violence way too quick. Learning to control-"
I cut him off, yet again, and smiled inwardly. It was fun, the kind of fun that you knew was bad but you did it anyway. I recommend it. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever Sensei, open the door." I said, staring out to my ran-down shackle home. I heard him sigh, but he didn't move.
And then I felt somewhat guilty. I turned toward him, facing him so I could look straight into his emerald eyes. "Listen, I'm sorry. I know I'm too impulsive, and I know I've been kinda hard on you. But I've got alotta stuff pinnin' me down right now, and I just gotta deal with it. I just want you to know its got nothing to do with you. Your my best bud, and you know it." I smiled at him, guinely, and placed my hand over his, keeping his gaze. "But for now, just stay here." I ended my sappy moment and pulled my gaze and hand away from him, and he was smiling big at me. But not a big "Ha-I-Gotcha-To-Say-Sorry" grin, it was a "Thanks-Avira,-I-Really-Needed-That" smile.
I looked ahead at out through the windshield. The silver Prius shone in the sunlight as it remain parked in my driveway.
Mom didn't drive.
"Stay here. I got a good feeling things are going to get a bit ugly." I slipped out of the car before he could reply, though I could see his mouth moving as I left.
I kept all of my stealth with me. (*Note*When in doubt, creep around so no one can hear you coming.) Best way to size up your situation. That way, you don't end up staring into the eyes of a man-eating tiger. (Though that does sound like a fun match, don't it?)
Crouching, I reached silently up for my kitchen-slash-everything-else-room window, slowly prying it open with every muscle tensed. I propped my head up, feeling my pulse in my brain, seeing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was just as it should be, nice and neat. So what do I do? I slipped into the house, my feet barly making a tap on the linoleum floor as I touched it.
Pushing forward, I made like a ninja and laid up against a wall, peeping my head around the corner. I tensed to see someone, anyone, but I saw nothing.
Nothing. But my mom's door was slightly ajar.
So I kept going, a red flag signalling in my small brain as I targetted my mom's room as primary target.
Putting my feet softly on the floor, one at a time, I swear I was as quiet as Molly walking down that hall. I felt invincible, really CIA material. I laid my back up on the wall near my mom's door. And, trying so hard to be a hero(Or is it heroine? What's the difference? They're the same thing, why do people have to be so sexist?), I opened my ears and listened hard.
Giggling.
Puzzled and curious, but none the less tense, I stepped into the room.
There was Mr. Roy, big arms all wrapped around my mom as he nuzzled her neck and kissed her and whispering in her ear and making her blush as she giggled like a little four year old on her bed.
"Mom?" I was freaked out.
Two heads moved in unison, their eyes zoning in on the area they're ears had pointed out to them. Shock waves of surprise rippled through the faces, and if I wasn't on the verge of puking, I would have laughed at their reaction.
Mom spoke up first. No duh there, "Avira!" she reacted in surprise, and my face was wrinkling into disgust and anger. My principal? Really? "What are you doing here?" she asked.
I glared at her, "I could ask him the same." I said icily, nodding toward the fat man.
She looked nervous and jumpy, like the Boogy Man was about to get up and get her. If only, right?
"You should be in school." she said, her voice strengthening. Trying to be Alpha, again.
"Kinda hard to when you're expelled." I snapped at her. I had a big mouth, incase you hadn't noticed.
She looked up at me, jaw dropped, eyes wide open.
"Impossible." Mr. Roy spoke up, I guess he had a right to. Not.
I sneered at him, my hate raging, the perv. That was my mom.
"They would've paged me long be-" he continued, only to be cut off.
Guess what went off? You go it, his god-damn-executive pager. It was on my Mom's night stand. What a great spot for it, I mean it was right in his grubby fricken' reach. He picked it up and read it silently to himself.
"I can't believe you. You're disgusting, you tramp." I spat at my mother, switching my target to her, my anger unfurling.
"Avira, wait a second, I can explain." her face softened and pain spread in her turquoise eyes. She started to get up, but I was already beginning to leave.
"No. You can't." I turned and left the room, stalking through the hallway with anger, disgust, and horror. What the hell was my mom thinking?
Soft patches of skin hitting the floor told me mom was racing behind me. "Avira, you can't do this. I'm youmother." she said, motherly and strong.
Oh yeah, that was the last straw for Avira O'Reily. She was gone. My fists cleched instinctively and I whipped around, my jaws slammed together so hard my teeth felt like they were about to shatter. "No." I said quietly, raging. I let my voice gather all the self-control it could, so I wouldn't end up screaming at her, though I wanted to. "No, Barba O'Reily. You're not my mther."
I left her with such shock it was easy to walk out the door.
Colt was outside, waiting with a baseball bat in his grasp, his head titled forward slightly so I could see the top of his head looked like sandy colored porcupine quils. Of course, his hair always looked like that. And why am I making note of that now?
He looked up at me when he heard the door slam and heard me stomping through the crunching snow. "What happened?" he asked.
"Get in the truck." I said sharply, my whole body urging me to fight something I couldn't.
He wasn't getting it. "But what happened?" he asked, more urgent, more curious.
"Get your ass in the God damn truck!" I shouted at him, barely an inch away from him.
He didn't question me then and turned and walked around to his side. He knew my temper by now.
I hopped into the truck slamming the door beside me as I sat next to my curious friend. My only friend.
He looked at me, careful not to get me going again. Smart move. The last thing I needed now was something else to trigger my already pending anger. I had my head in my sweaty hands, trembling softly, trying to ease my painful headache.
"Where to?" Colt asked softly.
"Anywhere." I started, my voice strong and violent. But when I spoke again, it sounded weak and pathetic. "Anywhere away from here." I croaked.
He didn't need anymore info, he backed out of the driveway, leaving the silver Prius and Barbara O'Reily long behind.
All of that, along with Avira O'Reily.

[Rain]

Chapter 7:
Fawn Gets Some PB&J

So it wasn't just all anger directed at my mom. I wasn't just grossed out. I was hurt.
Mom had taken this silent vow to never go out with anyone ever again, to not even think about it. And me, without even saying anything, without really even consciously noting, I'd taken the same vow. I didn't want to be like mom. I didn't think I could stand having my heart broken. I never thought my mom would be the one to break it for me.
And to make matters worse, she chose my arch nemesis (besides Derrell) as her teddy-bear. I've never felt more betrayed before, my heart had been ripped out of my chest, ripped into two and stomped all over. Then she swept up the remains and Roy emptied it into the garbage dispossle, flicking the switch on.
She looked so happy doing it. I was struggling to keep the salty sting of tears out of my face. I didn't cry. That was my one strength. I never, ever cried. Avira had forgotten to, it wasn't in her vocabulary. She could go through anything and not shed a single tear. And now I was actually gonna.
"Can I ask what happened back there?" Colt broke through my through about ten mintues after driving. He was calm and his voice was gentle, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that it felt like nails on a chalkboard to hear him ask that.
I guess I had to tell him. He was my brother. Adopted brother, anyway. He had a right to know. I spoke up, my voice sounding broken and weak. "Mother was going out with Mr. Roy. I'm guessing seducing him to keep me in school." Yeah, that was probably it. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Damn It!
In the corner of my eye, I coudl see Colt glance at me, not exactly heartbroken about the news. He didn't know about our covenant. But he saw that big wet tear, and his hand was on my shoulder, rubbing my back gently. Just like a big brother would do to comfort his little sister. I felt so loved in that brief moment.
"I'm sorry Vixen." he said softly, calling me that little nickname he'd given me when I was twelve, though I never quite got it.
"Yeah," I wiped my eye. I wouldn't start crying. No effin' way. "So am I." I said, changing my tone. "But whatever, I don't care." I shrugged, shoving my sorrow-filled feelings into the little closet in my head. I'll pull 'em out on a rainy day. Not.
He smiled, his eyes on the road, though he was glancing back and forth. "At a girl." he praised me, soundling yet again like my big brother. Now more than ever. It was slightly comforting. "Nothing's gonna get to you."
Good moment lost. "Whatever you say, Constantine." I whispered under my breath. Sometimes Colt had no idea how annoying he sounded.
We stayed local, driving through our small town. Once we passed that, it was all rolling hills and farmland. Colt took a right about a mile after town, up through this gravel-covered road.
I didn't turn to him, but kept my eyes on the road. "You ever see that movie The Deliverance?" I asked, a grin begging to be let loose and wreak havoc. He laughed and I smiled. I was fine, nothing was gonna keep me down. Nothing.
Colt continued to drive up the lovely little lane, meadows on either side of us.
After about three mintues, a secondary road appeared and we turned on it, taking a right.
Now I knew where we were going, Colt's house.
When I was little, I would come over here and play with buddy boy all the time, and his parents loved me. They had horses and little foals in the spring that I ran around with, mimicking their every movement. I swear I could keep up with them, and so could Colt. We'd race from sunrise to sunset, glee written on both of our faces as we wrestled and play. Every little argument we had ended up being a little wrestling match that either of us won. We kept no tally, and I couldn't tell who was the better fighter.
I remember one day a young colt was thrashing about, a foot away from smashing his hooves on my head, and mini-Constantine had tackled the little horse, pinning it down to the grass. His parents had come out of the house to see what had happened, and found me. They said I'd spooked it and exhiled me from their farm, reguardess of all our protest. I'd call him Colt from that day on, and never be invited to his place every again. And when I fell victim to all the violence I'd committed, their hate and stubborness had risen even more, and they'd ordered him to never even speak to me. But he didn't care, we were still best friends. Yet again, we grew up together.
Three barns, two with just horses, and asmall one to keep the family stock. The Jone's had two cows, one bull, and a sheep they named meadow, and one small crowd of chickens.
Then there was a small, quaint house that the Jone's family stayed in. A basement, attic, four bathrooms, three bedrooms, a guest room, livingrooom, dining room, and a pretty spacious kitchen that I could kill for. A sunroom made a room for the two sheep dogs they had as well. Marty and Macy, the two pups were probably full-grown by now though.
All in all, it was a really big farm.
I cringed a little. This place was really confusing. Home of my greatest ally, and shelter for my biggest foe. Why did Colt have to get stuck with Derrell as a brother? Why not some wacky cousin or something?
Colt parked the Blazer, putting the emergency brake on and took the key with him. He didn't look too relaxed. He was jumpy, on edge.
"Hurry up, follow me." he said, his voice hushed.
I simply nodded and followed, as he led me to the smallest of the barns. He opened the door and rushed in, I was right behind him.
"Hide in here, I'll be back later." He pointed to a stall and I climbed over the wall. I looked up to see Fawn's beautiful muzzle sniff at me as I felt my heart bloom. "Hey girl." I murmured, smiling and patting her cheek fur.
Colt was grinning. "I though you'd be happy here. Now remember, stay-"
The door swung open on squeaky hinges and I ducked out of sight.
"Constantine?" came a shrill, female voice.
"Hi Mom." he said in reply.
I heard silence as tension built up. "What are you doing home so early?"
Colt cleared his throat so quietly even I struggled to hear it. "I was worried about Lilly. You know how close she is to foaling. Buster's foals always turns out big and Lilly isn't the tallest mare we've ever had." Good excuse.
More silence followed. I stared at the stall's wall, estimating how long it would take me to jump over and out. I'd have to make a run for it, and it'd be close since Colt's mom was quick. He told me once she used to be on some Olympic track team or something.
"Yes, but Lill's in the mare barn, not in here." she replied.
Woops.
"I know." Colt said. "I just wanted to check on Fawn first." Someone give this guy a prize. Where'd he learn to lie like that? Me?
"Well, anyway," Colt's mom continued. "The school called." I felt myself tense. "Apparently your brothers gotten into some sort of mishap with that Avira girl. She broke your poor brother's nose, the little brat."
I felt myself tense. I was a brat? Take a look at Derrell!
Colt whistled, "Wow, I'm so sorry. I hope he's okay." he said sincerely.
"He'll be fine. They brought him over to the hospital. Your father and I are heading over there now to pick him up. Would you like to come?" she asked him, her voice getting me more and mre angry with each passing moment.
"No thanks. I'll stay here and hold down the fort, in case something does happen." he replied, sounding pretty calm.
"Good. I'm so proud of how responsible you are." she crooned her son. "See? It's good you aren't friends with that O'Reily child. She's nothing but a bad influence." the old hag said, sounding quite sensible. I wondered if my hands could fit around her neck. . .
"Yes mother." Colt simply replied and she left, the door's closing sounding her departure. Of course, I saw nothing but wood. Instead, my ears told me the story quite obediently.
Colt leaned over the stall. "Stay here, I'll go get some chow and a blanket."
I decided to lighten the mood and stood up, pinching his cheek. "Oh you're such a sweet young man, Constantine. I'm so very proud of you." I grinned and he pushed away from me.
"Oh shut up." he said, his face flushed.
I giggled and sat down, getting comfortable on fresh hay. Fawn laid down, her legs folded underneath her and nickered softly. "Good girl." I praised her, whispering, running my fingers through her soft, silky, silver mane. Her soft pelt felt like plush, and the silver spots were like stars against her jet-black back, the deep night encasing every silent star, trapped in its own place, its own little nightmare. But it wasn't frightening or depressing to look at the beautiful mare that lay beside me, she was perfect bliss. She was my happy place. She was perfect.
Her body was tight and whipcord with muscle, and I remembered just how fast she could go. She could make an Amtrak train seem like a snail. She really was just like a deer, gentle and timid, but quick and agile, and I loved her for it.
The door opened again and I ducked lower, scrunching up against the dark wooded stall, my back aching. I leaned heavily against Fawn, her chest moved rythmically with her gentle breathing, and it eased me a little.
Heavy heels, yet soft footsteps hurried toward my stall and I clamped my fists together. Crossing my fingers I found my eyes already shutting themselves. So much for self-control. It was Clt's father. I'd never met him sober, but I knew he wasn't a nice guy reguardless.
The steps kept coming, closer and closer. They seemed to echo in the bar, though I knew that was thoroughly impossible. And then, they stopped.
Right in front of me.
A giant bundle of what felt like marshmellows hit my face, making me gasp and my eyes fluttered open. A soft, white, hand-made quilt covered my face and I pulled it off, making my hair haywire. But it was messy anyway, so I didn't care.
Colt laughed at me, and I glared in return. "That was not funny." I said sourly.
"What? You can do whatever you want and I can't do jack?" Colt grinned at me, holding out a plate of neatly made PB&J, no crust. Just the way I like 'em.
I softened a bit and smiled. "What, no milk?"
He shrugged, still good-humored. "We ran out of cows."
I took the plate, "I would like to speak your manager, young man."
Both of us laughing, I picked up a sandwich and bit into it. "Yum...." my voice trailed off into the fluffy goodness. Crunchy peanutbutter and sweet grape jam made a party on my tastebuds.
"Eat up, it might be the only thing you're having for a while." Colt told me, sounding like a dad I never had.
Saluting him, I replied. "Yesh sir, right away, sir."
He half grinned and I leaned against the stall for comfort, petting Fawn. She'd heard me munching and craned her neck around to see. She nickered softly and sniffed at my sandwhich.
Me, being the big softie I am, took a piece and gave it to her. She licked it up hungrilly.
"Don't do that, its not good for her." my pal chided me.
I looked up at him, my eyebrows raised. "And those supersized frech fries from Micky D's are just dandy for you?" I asked him.
He rolled his eyes in obvious irritation, "She's a horse, Vixen."
I put my plate on my lap, my eyes growing serious. I see his gaze was drawn in to mine... somewhat wierd, but at least I knew I had his attention. "And you're a human. What's the diff?"
He gave up, stifling a sigh, I noticed. I gave Fawn another piece. Peanutbutter couldn't kill a horse.
We stayed there for a little while, him staring at Fawn, Fawn laying her head on my lap, comfortabley dozing while I stroked her silky smooth mane in sheer bliss. The serene silence was calming. It wasn't uncomfortable, it felt like it belonged there, and I relished its effects. It muffled all stress and soothed everyone, especially me. I loved it, because the past few months had been nothing but stress.
Unfortunately, it took out my adrenaline kick and my muscles started aching. My head was throbbing, my ankle severely painful to the slightest of touches, my nose was on fire, and my throat felt as if it had been tried to be streched out.
Boy, I wonder why.
I tried my best to hide my discontent, acting as if nothing was wrong. I'd lived with pain before. And this, on a scale from one-to-ten, was only about a seven. But, moi being moi, I stupidly touched my neck with the softest of fingers, and winced harshly immediately. A raw pain blossomed with such ferocity, I had to fight a choking gasp down.
"Hurts?" Colt asked.
I smiled sheepishly. I didn't really want him seeing my weakness, it was an inner concious thing that told me only I should know those few things. "Not really." I muttered, putting my pain and left over plate asside. (My plate went on some hay next to me) I kicked off my shoes, some black soft socks resting under the warm quilt. My ankle was in flames of pain, but I hoped with some rest, it would calm down.
I layed my head down on Fawn's soft chest, wide and gentle. It caressed my head and I stroked her mane, sometimes her muzzle. She nickered once, in content I guess, and quieted down. I felt so girly and weak, but I didn't care. It was appropriate with Fawn. And besides, I felt like crap.
"Shouldn't be surprised, you're all black and blue and bruised on your neck." he replied with some emotion, glancing briefly at my neck.
I felt my face burn and instinctively reached for my neck, gingerly grasping it in a gentle hold. I didn't look up, and I didn't panick. "It'll heal."
A few more mintures passed, me in intense pain, but practically falling asleep. I was really, really fricken' tired now.
But I never got an oppertunity to snooze, because things just never go my way. Gravel started popping and you tell a car was coming. I looked up at Colt, waiting for some words or wisdom, or at least some assurance. I couldn't get caught here, I'd be killed. Or worse, be sent home.
He just stared at the door, as if he were a deer mesmerized by car headlights, as if his eyes could shoot out lasers at the first person that entered the small barn we were in. He grasped his yellow birthstone pendant, looking for comfort, and I found myself doing the same. Only I had a locket, not a pendant on the end of string tied around my neck.
After about three minutes or ten hours, I couldn't tell, Colt's watch went off and he woke up from his trance and looked over at me, his eyes looking glazed over, but sharp at the same time. "Stay here." he whispered. His voice was glazed over and over and over with honey that I couldn't manage a witty comeback.
And what would I say to that anyway? "Oh no you don't I'm coming with you"? I was dumb, but not that dumb. He was making a good call, I nodded solemnly and he walked silently away.
I watched him go, my heart moving a little faster as my hands brushed over Fawn's shoulder fur, my head resting against her warm belly.

Words of Advice: Don't ever give me sentry duty.

[Rain]

Chapter 8:
A Horrible Day
A hard nudge on my shoulder and I wake up with a hand over my mouth. I gasped and jumped, my hands reaching up for my captor to release me, my heart racing. My mind was reeling and I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins, pumping intensely fast out of their glands. I pulled my fist back, ready for action.
"Shut up, you'll start the stock." Colt whispered harshly at me.
I stopped moving, holding in a sigh. His heavy hand dropped, and the warmth over my mouth vanished. I suddenly felt cold, even with my blanket. He took me by my wrist.
"Let's go, before someone notices."
I struggled to my feet, sucking in air as I put weight on my bad ankle. The adrenaline lessed the pain, but it was still pretty intense. I swore under my breath and grabbed the stall's wall.
"You hurt?" my buddy asked, whispering, sounding urgent and frantic. Great.
I held my breath and stepped forward, silencing a really loud gasp and cry of pain. "Nope."
First step I took I fell. Thank God all the hay muffled my fall and I was absolutely silent. I felt an invisible cinder block crush my ankle and it hurt with a fiery passion.
Colt decided not to waste any time and helped me up. He hooked an arm around my waist, my own arm wrung over his shoulder. Thanks a lot, Derrell.
I hobbled out of the barn, with Colt, as fast as I could. But, I had to admit, it was really nice to be enveloped in the warm of Colt. He was strong and his stamina was unbelievable. He held me up with that strength, but with a gentle air about it. It comforted me and gave me the strength to carry on, the determination to keep going with him. (I swear to God if you tell anyone, I will hunt you down.) It felt really good to feel the night air at my face, until it nipped hard at my sore nose.
We kept moving, all the while dawn moving faster and faster toward us. It took us about five minutes to get just past the house, in front of the front door, (Which was good time, considering my ankle) but the sun had fully risen and shone down on us without mercy. The both of us gave it are all, and I tried not to cry like a little baby as I stepped with my bad foot.
Then the worst possible thing happened. The door opened. I figured this was just about the time everyone would be getting up, but I really hoped they'd sleep in a little.
We shrank back against the house wall, hoping to blend in with the white-painted wood, hearing clumsy feet fall onto the steps. One, two, three, dirt. Each one seemed to echo in my mind, blowing my eardrums away. He or she was walking toward us, about to turn around the corner the house. We'd have a nice little face off.
Crap!
Derrell was glaring at the snow when he found two pairs of feet in his view. He looked up dumbly, in a shock of state of some sort. As soon as he met my gaze, probably as wide as his, if not wider, he found anger and glared at me. "O'Reilly." he growled with vengeance on his very breath. I tensed immediately, but he didn't look so threatening anymore.
He had a sling on one arm, all plasted up and orange, and his hand was stiched up in the other, also covered in a fabric of some sort, to protect it. A little white nose band was on his huge nose, pinching it so his voice went from dangerous and grave to high and nassally. I noticed before when he looked down, a glint of light was on his head, hidden in his hair. A staple?
And to myself, I'm thinking: I did all that to him? But I hardly did a damn thing!
I panicked, I really, really didn't want to be caught, and Derrell would have loved to hand me in. I could imagine his stupid grin, all caught up in his one good achievement, the praise he would recieve from his goody-two shoes parents, and acid churned in my stomach.
So, siezing my rage, I stepped forward and ignored the pain in my ankle. My fist went flying into his nose, and it crumpled jsut as he did, fainting as soon as he made contact with the ground. I practically fell, but caught myself weakly on the house, panting hard, trying to fill my lung as fiery pain seemed to stem into them.
"Time to go." Colt said, sounding rushed. He grabbed me so I could lean against him and we half sprinted, half hobbled out of there. In other words, we hauled ass.
We got to his trusty Chevy, at the parking lot of flattened grass a few hundred yards out in front of his quiant little home.
He directed me to the front of the seat and said something about "Nuetral", and figured he wanted it in neutral gear, so I put it in it. I heard a loud grunt and looked in the rear view mirror to see Colt straining to make his possibly-half-a-ton truck go forward, and I had time to admire how strong my pal was. The red steed did as it was urged to do, and started to wobble unsteadily down the gravel road, each pop making me cringe, my nerves shot.
I head him groan and pant with effort again, and I felt kind of guilty. I should be helping him. He was risking so much to help me, the least I could do is give him a hand.
But I figured I'd be of better use up here, steering the wide vehicle. My leg would only get in the way, and I would lag behind, and probably get myself left behind. He was stronger than me anyway.
Even though I've never driven before, I manuevered it out of the drive way pretty well, and turned ontot he road. It was pretty much like riding a horse, but instead reins you got a big wheel.
The ground was tilting downward just a bit, and gravity was greedy, and took Colt's job. He sprinted forward as fast as he could as the Chevy picked up speed rapidly. He opened the driver's side door and grunted, nodding his head to the passenger's seat. I was smart enough to move out of his way. He was sweating hard, a pool of liquid upon his brow, and I wanted to give him some water or something, but there was nothing of the sort.
I looked around, just in case, and found a rag. The same he'd used on me, blood splattered on it, but it was better than nothing at all. I took it and used it to wipe gingerly on his forehead, to take up the moisture on his face. After a second, Colt looked at me, his gaze strong and mesmerizing. We stayed like that for what seemed like five hours but was probably only three seconds. When a bump shook the car and nudged us out of our wierd moment, Colt pulled us back onto the road, and I put the rag away.
Once we rolled onto the main road, and we were both comfortable in our seats, he pulled out a key out from his visor, grinning. He seemed to forget that akward moment, but it rang on through my head vividly. I felt kind of tingly, and close to throwing up. But at the same time, I was completely numb. I looked back at him, but didn't meet his eyes.
"Always keep a spare." he said.
He started the truck up and the engine roared like an animal into life, momentarily going down to a purr, reminding me of my little Molly.
I got over myself and smiled at him, "Where we headed chief?" My curiousity yet again spoke for me.
He smiled again, "Camping."

Chapter 9:
Swimming. Is. Awesome.
The both of us drove through the town, my eyes hungry, desperate even, to see every sight, though I knew exactly where each and every building and car would be.
I leaned back in my seat, slouching comfortably. The pain in my whole body seeped in, just as I seeped into the chair. I felt slightly sleepy, my energy drained from me. I kept blinking rapidly, holding my eyes shut for minutes at a time to open them up later. I forced myself to ignored the bright-colored sparks going off in the darkness of my eyelids when I shut them.
Because of the lack of sleep and short-lived trauma I had shortly experienced, my ankle felt like it was under radiation exposure. Every slightly pound of blood cirulating kept me wincing, only muffled by my stubborness. It felt like I had a cinderblock tied around in, only a glance at it beneath the safety of my black pantleg told me it was swollen up bigger than a balloon birthday party.
And of course, me being me, I ignored it, refusing to look at the thing again.
Before I knew it, we were out in the old parking lot behind the abandoned bakery. The secret entrance to my beloved Cat's Den.
"You head in, I'll get the stuff." my best friend said, and I nodded without hesitation. Let him do the hard work, I need to go lie down somewhere. I was exhausted. He left before I could reply. "Sure, I'll give it a shot." I mumbled, following suit. I hopped out the car, instantly grabbing my ankle as soon as it made contact with the crude concrete, thankfully Colt didn't see it. Sucking in a silent breath of air, I tried to walk. But, of course, I hobbled instead, over to the door. It just seemed like the more attractive option, you know?
I stumbled over to the wall and felt for the door, easily pushing it over, experience guiding my fingertips. The place was still the same, still an old, dusty, mold-infested mess. An allergic neat freak's nightmare.
At this point, I was just about up for crawling over to the counter, but I forced myself to stay up by pride and willpower. My ankle was killing me, and I was beginning to think literally. Why?
Clueless, I still went over to the counter, just as Colt did, his arms stuffed full with sleeping bags and pillows, and one big backpack on his broad shoulders. He leaned hard against the counter and it moved, leaving the dust tracks in its wake.
He motion with a slight flick of four fingers to go, before practically dropping a snow white pillow. "Ladies first."
I faked a gracious smile and a lazy courtsy before limping to the entrance, getting down on my knees, and my hands. I gripped the rope strongly with my legs, even if it hurt like hell, and let myself slip down a little before wrapping my sweaty hands onto the thick coil. I climbed down, my hands instinctively tensing and and easing continously. The palm of my hand burned, but it was normal. Besides, it wasn't half as bad as the agonizing pain searing in my ankle.
I touched down with my right foot, my good leg, and let go. Almost falling right then and there, gravity taking hold violently, I struggled to limp over to a tree stump, taking a seat and reaching down to my ankle, for one quick second while Colt was busy, not paying attention. My ginger touch only sent more pain and I recoiled, squealing under my breath, stifling an pain-torchured moan. Man, it hurt.
I heard muffled thuds and instantly knew without looking that the equipment, minus the backpack, had touched down on the dark blue, almost purple, grass, lush with moisture.
Colt was unusually happy, humming all the way down the rope, looking up at the entrance, not a care in the world. Then I knew he had about a bigillion things zooming in his head. He just didn't to sit down and face it right now.
I kept looking down at my ankle, then at the pond, and finally back at my ankle, all in that order over and over. It hurt so bad, it hurt like hell. But I didn't want to bring it up, I kept hoping that if I slept it would go away. But the little voice in my head told me it wasn't going to be that simple, not this time. And, unforutunately, I knew for a fact my instincts were right. Again.
"Forty-eight feet." an awe-strucken whistle, and then, "Boy, I'd hate to fall down that." Colt said, and I turned to see him. Hands on hips, looking directly up to the surface.
I nodded, knowing he could hear it, but not bothering to say anything. I was afraid my voice would come out like a squeal. Or I might simotaneously burst into tears like a sixteen-year-old baby.
Buddy-boy turned to me, picking up a blue bundle, rolled upneatly, and tossed it at me. "Heads up." he warned, friendly-like.
I caught it easily, since his aim was accurate and precise, and it would've hit me in the face if I didn't catch it. So my reflexes reacted, never allowing me to be hit by something I could see. Even if I close my eyes, I can somewhat sense something coming at me. I kick ass in dodgeball.
I looked over to see a yellow version of my plush, soft sleeping bag, warmth already spreading up in my hand, a relief from the forbiding winter chill. Colt was on his way to pick his yellow sleeping bag off the ground. Yellow was his favorite color, blue was mine. I guess I must have told him once, otherwise tiwas just pure luck that the spare was blue.
Either way, I untied the string around it and rolled it out, the fabric making a soft whoosh sound, ending with a snap as the wind stopped flowing through it. It softly went down, laying on the grass nex to the stump, beside the pond, and I sat somewhat clumsilly on it. It had to be my favorite spot. Had to be.
Colt waked near and spread his bag out not more than three feet away, sitting down on it. He looked up at me, and I could feel his gaze on me, even when I was still glancing at my ankle. As as I did, I moved my eyes up to the pond, watching the still waters softly sway.
"Does it still hurt."
I wanted to say, "Only like hell." but of course, my gut feeling told me to lie my ass off.
I swivled my head, "What? No, it's fine." I forced the pain down with a swallow to get my voice working again and smiled.
He wasn't convinced. Did he ever believe me? That's what best friends do, right? Trust each other? Where was his trust in me? He glared at me, his eyes green steel. It was the scariest pair of eyes I'd ever met, and it made me wince openly. "Walk over here." he was testing me. The last thing I needed right now was a pop quiz.
"Why?" I retorted, not about to jump at his will.
"Just do it." he snarled back, his voice stern.
I gulped again and forced myself up, desperate not to show my weakness. I didn't want to the hospital, I didn't want to get sent back home.
The first two steps went pretty well, my teeth gritted together as hard as possible as I moved, and then an unleveled part of grass me me trip on my right foot and I had to slam down on my bad leg, (the left) to keep me on my feet. Pain jolted up my left leg, searing my flesh and jarring my bones. I let out a yell and Colt pushed me, making me fall on my ass. The pain was still there, and I had to wrap my hands around my leg, desperate to get it to stop. I thought I felt a hot tear roll down my cold cheek, but I couldn't be sure.
Colt was right beside my legs, on his knees. He started feeling my leg tenderly, padding and squeezing from my knee and working his way down. I didn't know then what was going on, but later I figured out he was trying to find where the pain was coming from.
Meanwhile, I'm breathing in hard, my fingernails digging into my calves, and my eyes clamped as I tried to steady myself. But, of course, it wasn't working too well. I wasn't going to give up, I really wanted it to work.
Colt was down to my lower calf, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes so focused I swear I saw sweat coming down his head, even though I knew there were gallons of sweat pouring down mine. He touched my ankle, just a little, and I screamed, trying to pull away.
My pal latched onto me just above my ankle, forcing me to stay put or inflict more pain on myself. I chose to stay where I was. He pulled up my pant leg gently, and I knew I was crying silently, tears slipping down my face freely. There was my ankle, black and blue, swollen up to the size of a soft ball. Some of it was pink, but I could care less, I just wanted the pain gone.
The Colt did something I didn't expect, but it made sense. He pulled off my sneaker and sock, picked me up, carefully so my ankel didn't brush the ground or anything, and brought me over to the pond. I had just enough control over myself to pull my pantleg up so it didn't get wet while he getnly placed my leg into the water.
He picked me up slightly and set me on his lap, carressing me as I stifled screams and moans of pain and frantic agony.
The water was cool, and swirled around my leg, bring the ferocious heat in my ankle down. Colt was warm and soft, his heat keeping me from chilling into an icecicle, and I had time to relish the fact that he was an amazing caretaker, and hugger.
Not more than mere seconds passed when I realized the impossible was happening: The pain was easing. Slowly, my breathing steadied and found my lungs following Colt's rythm, being a good guide. My ear to his chest found that my heartbeat was gradually slowing to follow his. He had his arms around me, holding me until I could gain control over myself.
I blinked hard a few times, still inhaling a few deep gasps for only a couple of times. "Ow."
Colt took the cue and got himself out from under me, ot sit next to me at the sound of my croak.
"How did you hurt your ankle?" he asked, his eyes on the water.
I answered with slight hesitation, trying to get my voice to work properly again. I sounded like an epic fail every time I tried to open my mouth. "Your bro fell on it. It didn't hurt then, not nearly as much." I kept my eyes on the soft ripples of the pond, just like he did. My good leg bend so I could wrap my arms around my knee, to keep it against my chest. I warmed me up a little, and slight comfort came from it.
Colt nodded. "Adrenaline does that. Do you know what part of him pinned your ankle?"
I looked at him, curious. "His shoulder. I thought you were there?"
Once again, he nodded. "Yeah, but some kid was in front of me when I heard you cry out."
I opened my mouth to talk, but he wasn't done talking. "He's at least two-hundred and fifty pounds. And that was his bone that fell on you. He broke your ankle, or a least fractured it. You're lukcy the bone didn't break skin or something."
I didn't question his diagnosis. Colt worked with a lot of horses, some of whom had unfortunately broken their legs. He knew what a broken bone looked like.
I brushed a piece of hair out of my eyes, sweeping it behind my ear. Of course it didn't work because of my short hair. It simply slid right back into place, in front of my eyes. "Thanks." I whsipered, swaying my leg thoruhg the water. It felt so good, I felt practically no pain.
Colt shrugged. I guess I wasn't going to get much more of an answer, but I didn't really want one. Of course, I was grateful Colt, my big brother, helped me out, helped me heal. In my worst situations, he was always there. It was convienent, and I wished there was something I can do to somehow repay him, but there wasn't anything I could think of.
I laid back on the grass, arms behind my head, looking up at the stone ceiling. All I remember was blinking. But I must have fallen asleep, 'cause the scenery changed fast.

I was flying. Through the air, smiling and feeling pretty damn happy even though I had no clue why. The wind soared over my skin, feeling almost as good as water, but not quite. The fresh, clean air filled my lungs and my energy levels were overflowing. It was night time and the full white, glowing moon seemed to call me toward it.
I had no reason to ignore it, so I aimed my direction straight at it, following gut instinct.
I remember this was awesome, amazing. Because, really, how many times do you really get out and fly, without a moment's hesitation and actually survive it?
Then a searing pain erupted in my arm, and I looked to see blood pouring out, the scarlet liquid bubbling over my arm and dripping freely into the sky. My beatiful scenery was painted over with my blood, a fiery landscape with each star looking as if it were tips of a blowtorch. I looked out at the moon as saw it become one boiling pile of flames and ash, burning away before me, as my heart broke over and over and over again. Each time more and more pain sliced through me. I looked to see my hand on fire, ablaze, and my bloodstream turned to flames, cooking me from the inside out. I screamed.

I screamed loud, bolting upright, my hand whipping up to cover my mouth, due to reflexes. I felt sweat over my whole body, causing my clothes to cling to my body. The sleeping bag that had been unzipped fully and spread over me by, I'm assuming, Colt, was damp and sticky.
Darkness flooded my vision and I thought I might have woken up to another dream, but the water around my leg told me otherwise.
I gasped and clutched at my arm, feeling for either or flames, I felt niether. No burns, no fire, not even a bruise, just slight pain and sweat beaded upon my pore-drowned skin.
I could barely smell smoke, but I could tell it was from the fire Colt had set up, most likely. By the weak scent I knew the fire was long dead.
I have to get up.
Struggling to my feet, I wiped my forehead a couple of times, failing each attempt and only smearing it on my face. After blinking furiously, the air turned a dark gray and I could tell shapes. Colt was still lying in a heap, sleeping. He was breathing calmly, only recieving a twitch or two as he dreamt. He probably didn't even hear my scream, I muffled it too soon.
My breath back, I decided to swim my dark dream away. It would clear my head up. Doing a one-foot dive wasn't exactly easy, and far less graceful then a two-footed dive I loved to do, but I got in the water. I made quite a splash.
The water woke me up fully, and my body was cleansed. I absolutely loved the clean liquid flowing over my body, cooling me down. The water seemed to seep into my head and washed it out, almost as if I'd put my brain in the washer machine and put it on "soak", then let it go to the rinse cycle. I could think again, without that haunting fog in it. It felt amazing.
The light had gone from complete darkness into a blue-lit waters, I could see clearly. I swirled around a little, staying underwater with my eyes closed, living in the feeling as I let myself spin, flip, even do some barrel rolls in the water. Water was the one place I felt safe, like I was in complete control with it, and lost without it. And I was in no hurry to surface.
Eventually, I got kinda cold and decided to get out and bundle up in something, possibly grab something to snack on, answer my rumbling belly. Hopefully.
When my head broke the surface, I found Colt staring directly at me, shirtless.
"Goin' for a swim?" I asked, floating leisurely on my back, smiling at him. Despite my horrible nightmare, I felt good. Better than I had in a really, really long while. I finally felt better, after months and months of bottled anger and fury, pain and distress wreeking havoc within my own mind. But it was gone, for now anyway. Eventually, I'd have to figure out what my next step was. I couldn't live in Cat's Den forever.
"I was just about to ask you. I thought you were drowning or something in there, you were down for at least ten minutes." he replied, an irradical tone coming from his voice. It made me grin, and I blinked at him, about to laugh at him.
"Really? That's beats my record by two whole minutes. Awesome." I clambered out of the water, ignoring the hand Colt had offered. The pain in my ankle had suprisingly evaporated into a slight wave, making me limp a little, but not noticeably. I walked over to the fire that Colt himself had made and sat down on my very own stump, warming myself up. That water was fricken' freezing if you stayed in there for too long.
"You feelin alright?"
I nodded, quite honestly. "Feelin' great. Tonight's a good night, I know it." I grinned at him, ignoring the feeling of my short hair plastered against my neck by water.
He seemed puzzled, and only a bit freaked out, but sat on his own seat reguardless. "Right." he started slowly, and my annoyed meter went up about one and a half degrees. "Can you tell me your name, and mine?" he pointed to each of us in turn, treating me like a four year old trying to spell Hippopotomus.
I only laughed, rolling my eyes at him. "I'm Donald Duck, and you're my faithful companion, Goofy. Duh."
He froze, his jaw dropped. He'd actually thought I'd gone bonkers, belonged in a funny farm. "Um..."
Winking at him, I replied, to reassure him. "Chill out, just kiddin'. I believe I am Avira Jerimiah O'Reilly, and you're Constantine Michael Jones. Ain't that right Colt?"
He loosened up a bit, and allowed himself a half-smile, wicked, but nervous. "Very funny."
A few minutes passed and my arms smiled as my grin was ear-to-ear. It was like my cheeks were frozen by overdose of botox. I started to thaw out and the warmth of the fire spread throughout my body, bringing my clothes up to a damp feeling, reducing the amount of cling they offered.
"So what's up with the midnight swim? Tryin' to catch catfish?" Colt asked, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his open palms. He stared at me with curiousity.
I cringed and looked down at my feet, unable to meet his eyes. Nightmares weren't exactly Christmas Day for me, and it freaked me out to just try and remember what I'd dreamed. But it was never that hard, because the wierd thing about my dreams, they stay in my head. Like childhood memories, only clearer. I remember everything, the people, the pain, the smells, down to the color clothes I was wearing. I don't even have to write it down. Its like I have a filing cabinent in my own brain.
I didn't answer him.
"Come on Vixen, tell me." he leaned closer, the fire the only thing keeping him from next to me. He'd coax it out of me one way or another, even if it came out to a brawl. And suprisingly, he's the only kid I think has any chance winning a fight with me.
I hesitated a little longer, and even though I wouldn't mind a little hand-to-hand combat, I decided against and just flat out told him. "Bad dream." I whispered, looking into the very blades of flames that licked the air, desperate to spread, but unable to. Trapped in their own power.
My hand went to my neck, for my locket. The one that had a picture of me, my dad, and Mom all together, all happy. I was just four then, and so very very blind.
But it wasn't there, it wasn't on my neck. "My locket." I whispered, my eyes still absorbed in the fire, the urgency not quite registered in my head.
"Huh?" Colt's confused tone made me look up at him, his face making her feel more alert, more awake, more afraid.
"My locket!" I patted the ground around me, my fingers gliding over all the loose dust and scrubby, dying grass around the fire, desperate for the cold feeling of brass and bronze alloy to hit my hand. "It must have fallen off when I was in the pond." I breathed, speaking fast, barely even recognizing the syllables coming out of my mouth. The words came so fast it was if I were talking giberish.
I stood up, panic rising up my throat in bitter, acidic bile. I had to find my locket.
"Avira, wait!" Colt called, getting up briskly. His own face looked like it'd been through three millions volts of fresh electricity. He stood by my side, his stern gaze focused on my eyes. "You're going to get sick. Hypothermic sick, and I don't have nearly enough things to keep you alive."
I looked at him, and I felt like claws were on my heart, squeezing at will, laughing at my feeble attempts of rescue. Adrenaline flashed through my body, and determination surged. Tonight was not going to be a good night. I could feel it. "I have to get it." I took my wrist from his hand gently, looking hard into his emerald eyes, sharp with concern. Man, it really is too bad he didn't have a sister. She'd be all set.
He looked completely lost and abandoned, and I had an urge to hug him, but I resisted that. This wasn't exactly a life or death situation, he was just exaggerating. I saw my eyes in his, he was feeling the exact same way I was, I could almost feel it. "I'll go with you." he said, confidence swelling in his throat.
I responded by turning around and diving with both feet helping me jump. I dived with purpose, a graceful arc in my dive, my body going under with little more than a trickle of water sounding.
I ignored the new sudden chill of the water, and the urge to twirl and spin, have a good time. Swiveling my head back and forth, I looked for a glint, a shine, anything that might be metal. Nothing showed.
Movement beside me showed Colt was in with me, probably freezing his testies off. I looked over and got his attention. I motioned to go deeper and he nodded, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of focus and freezing-to-death. Guess he wasn't a winter person.
I propelled myself down, faster than Colt could ever dream. I might be slower than him on land, but I held the upper hand here in the underwater paradise.
We had to find the bottom. The locket would most likely be there.
We went further down and I could feel the amounts of pressure getting bigger and bigger all the time, the depths slowly increasing. Well, for Colt anyway. I was at the bottom in about thirty seconds. Fifteen feet, twenty, thirty, all the way up to eighty feet. A new high for me, on the positive side.
Then we found it, the dip that formed the bottom. We followed it inward, hoping to see anything as we headed toward the center of Cat's Den secret pond. My lungs felt fresh and fine, and my head was as clear as ever, but Colt looked a little droopy-eyed and tired. Possibly even tired, but I knew he could hold on. He'd stop when he had to.
What we found amazed us both.
A small cirucular opening, about five feet wide, made the entrance to what looked like an underwater cave. But my instincts told me it was a tunnel. How? I have no clue. It just fricken' did, okay?
Colt looked at me and shook his head. He wanted up, not down. I glared at him. I wanted my locket. And with my luck, it was way down in there. I pointed to him, gesturing up, then I stuck my thumb to my chest and pointed to the tunnel. He could leave if he wanted, but I was gonna keep going. Whether he liked it or not.
Not thinking twice on the matter, I dove deeper into the watery adventure, pushing through the entrance. It was curved perfectly round, as if a drill had been through it. I thought I could see a wall down at the far end, about a half a mile away. At the time, I didn't think if it was possible for me to make it all the way down there and back, but I didn't exactly care.
I swooped down into the main tunnel another ten feet, then leveled itself out. It led to somewhere, my gut said. I told it I was going to find out where.
Water swirled beside me, sending a weak torrent over my bare arm. I saw Colt, barely able to smile at me with his pale white face. I nodded and went deeper, my heart pounding as I grew more and more eager to explore.
Down, down, down. We hit the bottom two feet and decided to go further into the tunnel. Colt was holding up suprisingly well, though he was slowing down way too much. Two hundred yards went by and I noticed no current flowing beside me. I turned around to see Colt floating in the distance, his eyes closed, small bubbles flowing out of his closed lips.
Freaking out, I rushed back, my legs kicking as fast as they ever have been. He couldn't die, not now. Not with me.
I grabed him under each arm as I twirled to be behind hm and went deeper into the water by about three feet, weighed down with my best friend's weight.
I went forward again, going half the speed I was heading before, which was pretty darn fast. I looked up, noticing a wierd dip in the tunnel where the top went up a little. I'd found a pocket. I thought of air and looked uneasily at Colt, he could use some.
Time for air.
I went up, fighting against the bulk of Colt's body, urging me to drop him or go down with him to the bottom, where I could drown with him. I found the dip right above me and broke through the water's surface, oxygen flooding my face. I sucked in, giving my muscles some air, and pulled Colt up with me. I swear he weighed as much as an elephant.
His head on my shoulder, I shook him as hard as I could without loosing my grip. "Come on, bud. Get up." I said, focused.
He didn't budge. Desperate for any sign of life, I held him up with one hand. My other hand in the air, I smacked him. Hard.
"Get." I slapped him again, "The." Whack, right on the cheek. "Fuck." Didn't he have feeling in his face? "Up!" I punched him dead in his nose, blood seeping out. My hand fell back into the water. "Damn it!" I swore.
We were more than half way through, it'd be quicker to get to the other end. I'd be able to get some air into his stubborn lungs. I dove back under, water making my head clear again as I surged through it, ignoring my muscles as they screamed in pain.
I kept going, choking on nothing, desperation clawing at my throat. Colt was going to die.
I saw dim light at the end of the tunnel, as it dipped back up into a surface somewhere and hope surged through me as violently as a thousand volts. It helped my legs as they practically motored through the murky depths. I smiled, my head clouded by fear and desperation not exactly sure how to respond to the sight of light. But I knew for sure my heart was still going a million miles an hour, so scared to loose my best friend's life.

[Rain]

Chapter 10:
Gravity Hates Me

Moonlight shining above us, I broke through the chilly water, my face swamped with fresh, warm air that felt almost like ice on my cheeks. I lugged Colt up beside me, not caring about my surroundings. His life was most important right now. I felt a current pulling me up as I kept Colt on the surface, making my life easier.
I had my eyes on him, trying to figure out what to do, when my back hit a jagged stone, making me cry out and loose my grip on Colt with my left hand. He rocked forward as I fought back yelps and curses and his throat landed on my fist, full force. He coughed and spluttered and blinked weakly, his lungs working again. He spit out some water next to me, and any other time I would've thought it was absolutely disgusting, but right now I hugged him tight.
I held on to him, keeping him up as he shuddered and blinked. His bright green eyes were dull and glazed over, but his lips moved.
"Wa...." he struggled.
I tried to translate it. My brain was fried.
"Water." he muttered, his eyes closed again.
"I know, I water sucks." I grinned sheepishly, having no idea how to apologize to him. My little adventure almost cost him his life, and it was all my fault. So what if I lost my locket, it was just a little necklace. Besides, my father was an asshole and my mom was a whore. I should have just left it there.
He shook his head, just barely. "Water...." I strained to hear him clearly over the roaring of the water. "F-f-" he took a breath. "Fall."
I stared at him, uncomprehending for a few seconds. I froze, completely shocked. Looking forward I saw it, the drop that would end my life. I held him close again, wrapping my arms around him. I'd land first, he still had a life to live.
We were too close to the edge to swim anywhere, and the current was too strong anyway.
We went backward, water swirling all around us in irradical movements. I was barely able to keep Colt up with me, but I managed.
He opened his eyes, still a bit foggy, but clear enough to let me know he knew what was going on. He put his held over mine, which was currently clenched hard onto his shirt. I looked down at his hand, over mine. I looked up to catch his gaze and grin, but by then we were already falling.


Chapter 11:
Angry Diamonds(WTF?)

Everything blacked out. I fainted, pathetically, before I could experience any sort of pain I was about to endure. I was ashamed afterward, but being unconsionce, I had no control over my body and their actions. My mind wasn't my mind. And of course, to make me feel better about myself, I had a little dream.

I was swallowed by blackness, it engulfed me. It was tangible, in my reach, I could feel it. It felt thick and heavy, like cooling magma that poured a sticky fog into my head, invisible tar burrying my brain.
I looked up, my head only allowing me this point of view stubbornly. I saw stars, thousands of them gleaming bright all across the sky, shining like a million dazzling diamonds.
I reveled in the moment, keeping my eyes on them. Only then did I realize with a bloodcurdling thought, that they weren't stars. And they weren't staying up in that sky. They were falling. At me.
I tried to move, but only a simple finger twitch was all I could manage.
My eyes forced themselves to keep open, my very pupils glaring at the crystals. I could hear a very gentle, yet ear-piercing scream coming from them as they hurddled themselves down to earth, gravity at its best.
The first one hit my wrist incredibly fast, I had no time to prepare myself for it, and an indescribable pain ripped through my arm, making me yell out in pain.
But the killing gems refused to show any sort of mercy as wave after wave hit me any where they dare to fall. Every inch of me hurt like hell, and I was tempted to cry my eyes out, or somehow shut out the pain by blacking out, but hope was iminent here. Death was for me, and it was coming.
Pounding into me, I yelled, and screamed, and shouted untill my throat felt like I'd swallowed nails and various types of glass, and then I screamed some more. I was pinned onto nothing, forced to endure this torture. I almost felt like my mother's Jesus, being crucified by petrified glass, being stoned by muderous jewels. And for one moment, for one split second of my life, I felt pity for myself.
I stared up into my black hell, any screams ceased. Only muffled moans now, strength being drained out of me along with my scarlet life-force, blood oozing out of the millions of pinholes in my skin. No matter how hard they hit, I couldn't block it out. No matter how much I wanted this to end, they forced me back into focus with every new blast of pain.
Then, one star seemed to shine, a black essence hanging around it, forming a gleaming aura. I locked my eyes on it, holding in my scream. It was streaming straight toward my head. That thing was my bullet of death, racing with gravity out of anxious and eager feelings swirling around in its own little demented form.
It hit, and pained shoved its way in, my eyes clamping shut as the massive wave of angonzing ice spread throughout my whole being.

Fear The Black Medallion.

I sat up, yelling, screaming, opening my eyes to murky colored clouds. I was raining, the fat drops pounding onto my skin, stinging like bees. My head felt wave after wave of pain, and blood slid down my cheek, almost running into my eye. I held my head in my hands, willing the blurred vision to cease, but to no avail. I pulled back, recoiling from the thick, almost slimy liqiud on my head, to see my fingers tipped in scarlet. Great.
I fell back down, the need for rest too great to check out and see where I really was. Back on my back, my spine jarring with pain, I had a head rush run through my eardrums, making them thrill in an itch I couldn't ease. It could have been the waterfall, of course, but the feeling of water lapping at my legs were too great to make me get up and move away. I could live with a thousand headrushes for this kind of luxury.
I shut my eyes, and heard a groan, making my eyes perk up and tingle in a way that I didn't know they could do. My thoughts went straight to Colt, once again shamed that I had actually forgotten about him, and I turned to see him.
There was Colt. Still blacked out, hopefully having a somewhat better dream than him. He'd been through too much, he didn't need a nightmare. Only I should have to go through that kind of hell. His leg was twisted in an unnatural way, sticking out at an impossible angle.
Before adrenaline could come to the rescue and get my ass up, I blacked out once again. I remember trying to life my hand and stretch eleven feet to reach him, to try and help him anyway I could. He was going to die, after all I'd done. He was going to perish anyway. "Colt." my voice trailed to a silence as I left the real world.
This time I know there was no dream, for once, but my world got much, much warmer. And softer.

[Rain]

Chapter 12:
White Abyss

Darkness. Murky nothing, filling the cascade of emptiness within my eyelids. I couldn't think, couldn't do anything. The giant piece of plastic wrap over my brain squeezed, suspending any thoughts for later use. I could hear myself breathe, calm and steady, not the regular fast beating hard with rapid lungs rising and falling. It kept me on my toes, and even the fog in my head couldn't stop me from thinking why I was feeling way too calm. I've never been calm. Not even in infantcy, I've always been on edge, ready to jump at any chance.
I forced my eyes open, an impossibly bright light searing into my eyes, drilling into my brain. It brought pain, but pain was clarity, and I was happy to welcome it.
I blinked hard a few times, the bright stars in my eyelids dissolving. The light eased, and I was able to see a way-too-bright light fixture right above my head. I sat up, feeling an uncomfortable tug on my arm that made me jolt, my heart beating a little faster. I looked to see a needle in my wrist, a clear tube leading all the way up to a little stand with a bag filled with some sort of liquid in it. I flipped and started pulling a the tape on the needle, eager to get it out.
The tape came, tearing painfully off of my skin. I gritted my teeth and kept going. My fingers didn't give a damn about the pain and carelessly yanked out the metal needle, blood oozing out of the inflicted wound as I managed to bruise some of my arm during the effort. Not even caring, I threw the needle onto the ground and jumped onto my feet, removing a thin white blanket that blazed with its healthy hygeine. Perfect for some germ-freak.
The room I stayed in had a heart monitor, which rang hard and pierced into the silence once hanging in the unknown surroundings. My eardrums buzzed painfully and I took one moment to let my eyes gain focus again, since the sound had blurred my whole head, making my brain swim. I simply pushed the little machine over, making it crash with gravity onto the spotless white linoleum floor, glass scattering.
Voices erupted beyond the wooden door in front of me and I centered myself, straining to make out the gargled voices. Nothing cleared out so I decided to risk it and find out what was up. Only then did I realize I was in a white, blue spotted, hospital gown, tied up in the back. No wonder it felt so drafty. I went to scratch my head and found my entire top cranium was bandaged up in white gauze. I tore it off, my hair falling into place, making a mop of black hair bundled up randomly on my head.
I rubbed my scalp, my skin buzzing. I froze instantly, hitting a spot that made pain crash through every cell in my body.
I couldn't feel any skin, just bone.
The voices outside the room continued, and I felt almost encouraged to find out what the hell was going on, and why I was there.
I moved unsteadily to the door and turned the knob weakly, opening the passageway to answers. I found one room, with a giant oak table that looked like it belonged in the hall of congress, lined with eight fine looking chairs that I could sink into and get lost in forever. Two held people, living, breathing people.
A man with a gentle face an soft-looking white beard looked up at me, with playful brown eyes rimmed with scarlet red. Wierd, but I wasn't intimidated.
"Why, look who's up." He smiled at me.

[Rain]

Chapter 13:
The New Beginning

Grampa stared at me, the same stupid smirk on his face and I looked over at his bingo buddy, balding and chubby, but fit. He, too, smiled up at me, meeting my eye without a care in the world. Didn't they know I was going to beat their brains in?
And then it hit me, the wave of blurrs in my gaze, the world getting way too dizzy, every sight distorted. Still, I clenched my fists to steady myself, my nails digging into my palms. The pain cleared everything up and I could narrow my eyes at Dumb & Dumber.
"Avira, please, have a seat." The first one said. I didn't flinch, but inside my heart was a jet plane, screaming through the air so fast I broke the speed the sound or what ever. Surpise hit me quick, like a locomotive hitting a parked car, "How'd you know who I am?" I growled at him.
I glared at him as I hid my confusion. I was weak and knew even with all the adrenaline in the world I wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight, but I decided to shove that little thought in the back of my head, not caring about the end results if fists started swinging.
"No need to be alarmed." The first guy said. He was still smiling. Says you, ya old prick.
I kept on my feet. Like a wolf, my sense of flight or fight was raging, pointing toward fight, but knowing it would be better to flight. Once again, there was no way I'd win this fight. Not alone anyway. Of course with Colt....
Colt! How could I forget about him?
"Where's Colt?" It was more of a statement then a question, but it got the idea across. Instead of a strong, angry snarl, it was more of a croak, my throat scratched raw. It burned like I'd swallowed a gallon of battery acid.
He looked up at me, "Hmm?"
I practically growled, standing stock still, as I repeated myself. "Colt."
He looked slightly confused, but he still grinned. "I'm sorry dear, there are no animals allowed in the hospital."
Okay, first off, I had no need for a horse. What a pinhead. Second, what a liar. Right there, on his shoulder, lay a scarlet red lizard, sticking its freaky little tongue at me. I felt like strangling it then shoving it down its master's throat. Let him choke on that. The more I thought about it, the more fun the idea seemed to be.
"Not a colt, Colt. My friend. What did you do to him?" I felt my grip tightening, nails going further into my skin, pain pulsing within my palms.
He only chuckled and stood. I tensed immediately, adrenaline surging through my blood stream. Everything seemed clearer, every sound dripping with clarity, every sight sharper. Only he didn't do anything much, just bowed like I was some sort of queen of England or something.
I saw he had a purple T-shirt on, and some jeans that fit loosely. He wasn't tall, but wasn't short. He was built somewhat light, and he looked actually pretty fit. Huh.
"I am Christian Bollman, Amesthyst Elder of Mirda." he began, looking back at me, not a bit bothered by my glare. "Welcome, young one. You look tired, take a seat."
I stayed where I was, the other old croon was still watching me. He hadn't taken his eyes off me since I barged in. He seemed short and squat, but once again fit. Where the old dudes around here hooked on Jenny Craig or something?
He had a T-shirt as well, but it was creamy white that didn't have the blaring quality of the room I just left. He nodded to me, but I ignored him. I wasn't here to hang out and chill.
"Where is my friend." I said more slowly so I could pronounce it better, my anger words only a little slurred as I said it slower.
Christian smiled gently, holding a hand up so calmly I wanted to smack him as he sat down. I noticed his small purple lizard on his shoulder, sitting there like nothing was even happening. It was the exact shade of Christian's pendant, and I wondered if that's the reason he got his necklace. Only a few shades darker than his shirt. "All in good time, my dear. Please sit."
I gritted my jaw, but I was feeling more and more weak. I had to sit.
"It's fine, just take a seat. You look like your about to pass out any second now."
I bit the inside of my cheek and sat down, pulling out the chair farthest away from the both of them. They'd have to move quicker than me if they wanted to attack, and I know I could run faster than either of them, even if I was weak. I pulled my fists into my lap, keeping them secret, but ready. I glared at Christian, daring him to do something.
He motioned to his Chess mate, "This is Mathew Kubiak, Elder of Moonstone."
I looked at Mathew and he gave me a friendly nod. I flipped him the bird. He simply stared. "Not much of a talker, is he?" I softly screeched, still working on getting my voice back.
Christian shook his head, his snowy white beard following. "I'm afraid not. He was born mute, he could not speak even if he wanted to."
Mathew shrugged and smiled at me, an innocent look, but I wasn't one to play nice.
I sat there, arms crossed, slouching in my chair. "What do you want from me?" I growled at them.
Christian yet again smiled. "Nothing my dear. We just want you to feel better."
I snorted. "Yeah, and I want a million bucks." I laughed. "Where's Colt?" I asked yet again.
He spread his palms wide open. "I have no idea what your Colt is. All I can tell you is that there aren't any animals allowed here, and we have no patients with the name of Colt."
Rolling my eyes, I glared at him. "No stupid. Colt, my friend. Kid's got sandy blond hair? Tall dude? Has a big yellow necklace on, kinda like yours." I pointed to his. You know what? His looked exactly like Colt's, 'cept for the fact that his was purple and Colt had a yellow one.
A light bulb must have been turned on in the old guy's empty attic because Christian practically jumped. "Ah, you mean Constantine. Mr. Jones, I presume. No?"
I clapped. "Give that guy a prize." Then it clicked in my little noodle. I leaned forward, looking him square in the eye as I grew curious. "How do you know his name?" Oh God, please tell me he didn't get up first. He was strong, but mental state wasn't exactly Hercules. At least with me there, I'd do all the talking.
The old guy laughed and Mathew smiled with delight beside him. "He told us, dear child."
I growled at him in reply. "I am not your kid. And I ain't in any way dear to you." I hate old people. So very, very much.
"Would you mind telling us your full name?" Christian smiled at me, big brown eyes like a puppy's.
"Avira."
"Yes, we knew that young one. Your full name would be wonderful." He was rushing me slightly. He was loosing his patience. Awesome.
"Avira Fuckyurmomma." I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling.
He simply sighed, dropping his gaze. "Do I dare ask where you're from?"
I opened my mouth to give some other smart remark, but someone beat me to it.
"No, thanks anyway. I think I got it. As long as I don't drop this crutch again. These floors are slippery, you know? It gets tricky, but with practice it gets real easy." I knew that voice. Dude, I really did know that voice. Only a few feet down the hallway to my right.
"Yes, I do indeed. You'll have to forgive us, we didn't put it in consideration." A lady voice, accented heavily. Australian?
Christian and Mathew both looked down the hallway, where I couldn't see.
Colt came in, leaving heavily on a crutch, and I fought the urge to give the guy a thug hug or something. He strolled along next to this lady. She had frosty white hair and friendly blue eyes.
I forced myself to lean back in my chair with an attitude. "Welcome to the tea part, bro. Sorry, we just ran out of crumpets."
He grinned and hobbled over to the seat next to me, sitting. "Hey, how you feeling?"
"Like a million bucks. Maybe I could spend myself on more crumpets. Whatcha think?" I could practically see the sarcasm dripping off my words and almost laughed at it. I really just wanted these old freaks gone.
Colt chuckled. "She's got a great sense of humor. She just doesn't feel too great right now, that's all." He spoke to the lady.
"That's quite alright. We didn't expect anything different." She responded with a gentle smile, her blue eyes glancing from Colt over to me. "I'm Mallory Rictec. I'm the Elder of Sapphire." She held up her dazzling blue gem pendant, on a chain wrapping around her neck that might actually be a good tool for strangling.
"Yeah, and I'm Bob the Builder, the Elder of pink marshmellows." Man, I really was snappy today, wasn't I?
"I guess you weren't kidding Colt." She giggled and it made my stomach churn with nausea. She looked back at him, "As I was saying, you leg will heal in about a week more, give or take some. It should be just as strong as it ever was, so no worries. Just don't-"
I cut her off. "Does someone wanna explain to me what the hell is goin' on?" I stood up, leaning heavily on the table. My head was dizzy, but I wanted to clear this up before I cleared my head.
"Very well." Christian nodded. "Please sit."
My groan was extremely close to being qualified as a growl, but it suited the situation very, very well. I forced myself to sit yet again in the fine oak chair, stained to a dark sheen.
"Ask your questions, Avra." The woman said excitedly. She seemed like a little toddler trying to get money for the ice cream truck.
So I did, clearing my throat and openly rolling my shoulders, stretching out all those cramped up muscles. "Where the hell are we?" I glanced at Colt, to get him on my side again. I hope he wasn't holding any grudges about the whole I-Almost-Drowned-You-But-Instead-Broke-Your-Leg thing.
He shrugged, "I guess this place is called Mirda." I could tell he was unsure, but he gave it his best shot, and that's all I ever asked from him.
Mallory nodded, obviously pleased with her new charge. "Yes, he's right."
I stared at them, bewildered. My eyebrows furrowed with confusion and my fingertips buzzed with the urge to beat something out of anyone. "What?"
"Mirda." They both spoke at once, in unison. They both turned to each other and smiled, ready to laugh.
As I took in the air to scream, Christian stood. "Have you ever heard of the Bermuda Triangle?"
I wanted to say, "Have you ever had a fist in your eye?", but I told myself if I wanted answers, I'd have to play nice. So instead, my mouth formed the words. "Yeah, I heard of it."
"You're standing on it."
I snorted aloud. "Yup, keep talkin Papa Smurf. Lay off the cocoa puffs will ya? I think your getting a little cocoo for 'em." I said grinning, I had Colt and Mallory doing the same.
Mallory spoke up though. "No, he's right, Avira. In the center of the Bermuda triangle, there's an island that remains hidden from the rest of the world, protected by the borders of that triangle."
I laughed. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I grow a tail and bark."
"I'd start working on those barks." Christian said a little too seriously for me to ignore.

[Rain]

Chapter 14:
Advil Is Bliss

You ever wake up and wonder where you are, only to find out you're in this wierd hospital surrounded by old people who have just told you you're in the Bermuda Triangle in some old island where no one sane can find you? No? Well then I guess you wouldn't be feeling what I'm feeling, no would you?
I stared at him in disbelief, my jaws grinding hard against each other while I tried to work out the truth. "No way." I muttered. Chrisitan glared at me, his eyes blurting full red for only a second, only the pupil remaining untouched. It was so quick I figured I was just imagining it. "Yes. Way."
A nudge on my shoulder made me look over at my first mate, Colt. "Ain't it awesome?" He began, excitement lighting up in his emerald eyes. "Dude, this was totally worth the tunnel."
And now, I stared at him, unable to speak. Unable to tell whether I should jump for joy or cry my eyes out. No. It was not worth the tunnel, not worth watching him die. She'd suffer through a pit of fire to take back what she'd done.
Instead, Mallory broke me out of my trance of deep sorrow, pain, and misery. She caught my eye, looking straight at me with her gray eyes like mine, ringed with turquoise blue. They were pretty, I noted. Then I looked at her, actually looked at her, and realized she wasn't really that old. Mallory was probably only in her late twenties, early thirties. How'd she get white hair?
"Could you tell me where your pendant is?" She said softly, unfortunately sensing my grief, as she leaned forward slightly.
I was so confused at this point, it wasn't even funny. "Pendant?" I had no pendant, never have.
Well, she was surprised. "Really? What month are you in?"
I shrugged, "Novemeber, why?"
She sighed, seeming disapointed, but went on with her demonstration. She lifted up her own pendant, a deep blue stone on the end of the string. "This is a sapphire. It's my birthstone, just like Colt's pendant is Citrine, his birthstone. See, this is the reason I'm elder of Sapphire. Every kid, every adult, anyone in Mirda born in September, anyone that has a sapphire like this, I'm responsible for." Mallory explained, smiling only slightly.
I sat dumbly at the table, taking it all in. First thought? I thought it was cool, actually. Second thought? Where the hell was mine? First official question? "I was born here?"
Christian jumped in, "No one actually said you were born here, just that you belong here. And you missing your pendant is a big thing, a bad big thing."
"Why birthstones? Why not zodiacs or something?" Colt asked, switching the subject I actually liked.
"Very good question." Mallory replied. "Its just more basic. One stone for one month, no need to memorize dates."
Matt tapped Christian shoulder, his eyes bright. "Ah yes, and the volcano where we gather the minerals helps as well." Christian spoke for Mathew.
Colt nodded, and silence fell over the room. Even though it was quiet, I could still feel my head buzzing, and practically hear Colt's heart doing the same. There were so much to be told and learned, but I couldn't do anymore of that today.
"I gotta go lie down." I said, rubbing my throat.
Chrisitian shook his head in reply, "Oh please. Not yet. Here, have a drink. You sound like you can use it." He left the room for about two minutes or so, and I sighed. "I am really starting to hate him." I muttered to Colt.
He chuckled under hsi breath, "At least he's not out to get us."
"Yet." I sighed, sick of being chased down like a fox. "No worries, Vixen." Colt winked at me, and I couldn't help but smirk back.
Grampa came back in with five glasses of clear liquid on a wooden tray. Water? He handed out the glasses to every one. When I got mine, I stared down it with suspicion. I'm not that dumb. I smelled it, recieving not a single taste along my tastebuds. It looked as clear as crystal and I was really thirsty.
But, I wasn't gonna take any chances. I stopped Colt from drinking his, his hand frozen in midair as I whistled a short, high squeak. I avoided his gaze and he put his glass down.
See, me and him have this like secret morse code language. I could read him like a book, and him vice versa. (He reads me way better.) It's our secret alarm system, and no one has ever really caught on.
I took my glass and gently slid it over to Mallory. "Trade." I narrowed my eyes.
She complied, sliding her glass over toward me after taking a small sip. She took a long string of gulps out of my cup, keep her eyes on me, a big smile on her face.
I stayed there, waiting for some sort of poison or drug to kick in, but none did.
Mallory frowned. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
Colt and Christian laughed while Mathew grinned. I rolled my eyes at her smirk and took a sip of the water. It was so sweet and clean, soothing on my throat. I instantly felt better and actually smiled, having to stifle a content sigh, unable to hide my pleasure.
Christian smiled at me, "Feeling better?"
I nodded at him. "My throat does." I spoke clearly, my voice finally healed. "But I still think I could use a couple of Advil and a real comfy bed."
He nodded at me, ducking his head politely. "Very well." He blinked his brown eyes. "We have things to sort out anyway."
Colt stood up, leaning on his crutch as I took another invisible blow of guilt to the gut. "Where's your room?" He asked me, excited again.
I stuck my thumb toward the door behind me, "Right there."
He frowned. "That's quite a bit away." He looked at Christian, "How come she's down here?"
"This is an intensive care room. She had a concussion with severe hemmerging. But she's fine now. If she wishes, she can be placed in a recovery room near yours. Mallory can take you."
She stood up and smiled. "Let's get moving."
But I stopped her, momentarilly. "Wait a sec, I had a concussion?" I asked, intriguided, but not surprised.
The old guy nodded back. "Yes. You complained of nausea, diziness, and migrains with ringing in your eyes. The inbalanced size of your pupils and your slurred speech pointed to bleeding inside your head. That and the fact that you were bleeding on your head near the waterfall was an easy diagnosis of concussion." The doctor was in, ladies and gentlemen.
Colt whistled in amazement, as if to say, "Boy that's a doozy, ain't it?"
I ignored him and continued with my interrogation. I actually wanted Christian to slip up. "Wouldn't I remember all this stuff?"
"Sometimes patients with concussions suffer from memory loss." Colt explained, but he got a little curious as well. "But concussions take days to recover from. Just how long have we been here?"
Mallory shrugged, "A few weeks, give or take some."
I rose my hand, like a little first grader as I stood up. "Okay, time for Avira's nap time. Where's my new bed? Don't forget the Aleeve. Dear God, don't forget it." My palm was against my head as it pounded.
"I thought you wanted Advil?" Christian asked, and I replied with a "Whatever." grumble.

[Rain]

Chapter 15:
Ahoy Maties

On a boat, in the sea. Was it a sea? Looked as close as an ocean as I've ever seen. Then again, I'd never been to an ocean. And I'm supposed to love water. Oh the irony. I watched waves at brown boards and nothingness out through a window smaller than my face. It was slightly frosted and overall scummy, sea salt spraying over it at each wave.
Pain flashed through my body like shock waves of electricity. I felt jittery, like adrenaline and fear were crashing in my brain. My wrists, ankles, even my poor throat felt like they were tied up, under enormous, painful pressure. Like an elephant came over and suddenly decided I made a good seat.
I managed to look down, despite the fiery response from my throat, and felt a lump rise within my windpipe. I was coated over and over again in blood, dried over. I was scarlet, maroon, and black all over. My clothes were soaked through with the stuff, so much that I couldn't even tell what I was wearing. They'd begun to dry and my clothes felt hardened, like I'd drenched them in gorilla glue.
Another shockwave shot through my body and I looked up to see an evi grin sitting on a fat man's face. Real old, real wrinkly, this guy made me want to hurl. But, suprisingly, I was too scared to. Too scared to even try.
He laughed vicously, grabbing my hair rougly and pulling my face up to where our noses practicaly touched. I had to wrinkle mine. He must be a seaman, because he really smelled like one.
"Poor thing. I think you needs a bath." He said to me, his breath smelling of rotten meat and curled milk. Not a good combo, trust me.
He started dragging me forward, by myd hair, threatening to rip my scalp off. I struggled, twisting this way and that, desperate to get away. I had no clue what was going on, but I was as hell wasn't dumb enough to think we were going to a birthday bash.
He tugged hard, making me suck in air like there was no tomorrow. Pain soared through my ehad, down to the base of my neck, on every possible side. It felt like something was wrapped tight around my neck, squeezing impossibly hard. Maybe that's why it was so hard to breathe.
I tried to reach my hands up to see what was there, only to find my wrists tied together behind my back, so hard that the rough rope dug into my skin, rubbing it off. I foud the same problems on my ankles. Who the hell did I piss off this time?
Next thing I remember, I was hanging in the air, above a blue sea, that same guy holding me up by my hair.
"Hope you enjoy the swim!" He grinned, and I could spot at least seven missing teeth.
I tried to snarl at him, but the only thing that came out was a pathetic little squeak. Oh yeah, that'd intimidate this guy. He looked like he could take on an ox if he wanted to. What was I going to do to him? All tied up and practically teary. He laughed again and waved at me with his free hand, wiggling his fingers in my face. Then, I dropped.
I screamed and fell into the now-black waves, being tossed this way and that. Water filled my lungs and I struggled for about three milliseconds more. Finally falling into the black abyss that seemed to be calling me, I fell subdued to the frigid temperature.

I sat up instatly, clutching my throat, struggling for air, desperate to fill my greedy lungs. Anything to push the horror filling me away.
Afer a moment or two, I managed to steady my breathing into gasps, not as violent as my gulps of oxygen before.
I held my head in my palms, ignoring the feeling of rubbing my sweat-soaked skin togther. Not a nice feeling. I was too dizzy to be humanly possible, I blinked rapidly, only managing to clear someof the fog that clung to my mind.
Sighing, I forced myself to get a grip. I raised my arm, while it shook and twitched with jitters, to look at my watch and check the time. My eyes widened to find it wasn't there, but a rough pink ring was. It was actually as if my wrists had been tied up. I lifted up the other to check on my left wrist, only to find the same results. I might feel pain in my dreams, but it never carried through to the real world.
Trying to focus on soemthing else, I patted myself down, but found no pockets with my watch in my.... What the hell was I wearing?
I looked down, finding msyelf in a white robe as soft as rabbit fur. Thank God it was plush and not actual rabbit fur. Where we my clothes?
My eyes looked up to see if they were on my bed, but found my gaze taking in a nice cozy yellow cream-colored room with a nice, comfy full sized bed dressed up in big white blankets.
Now, I know now wasn't the time to panic, but it was awfully tempting. I was totally starting to freak, loosing my breath again. Why couldn't I have one good day? Just one?
I whipped around, out of bed, circling in place to try and find a door. I had to get out, I just had to. My exit-phobia was kicking into overdrive and paranoia was definatly threatening to overcome my whole being. My eyes were way too blurred, I couldn't make out anything but colors. Shit!
Struggling to force myself to stop for a moment or two, the warmth of my blood running out of my budy through my fet, despite the warm carpet beneath my feet. I closed my eyes, counting to ten just like Colt taught me to when things got a little frayed.
My heart slowed slightly, getting ever more closer to a normal rate. Well, a rabbit's normal rate anyway. I could never match a human's heart rate, my heart refused to slow that much. I let my eyes open extremly slowly, and they made themselves clear and I focused them fully.
I found myself starting at the night stand by my bed, a real wooden stand. Hickory or soemthing of the sort. Not plywood. Not my stand. The white of a small sheet of paper sood out clearly against the dark stain on the stand. Instantly, a white flash blinked before my eyes and I remembered everything. The note from Derrell, seeing him all busted up, Colt taking me down to Cat's Den, my broken ankle, the water, my locket, the tunnel... Everything came back to me and I chilled out. Tons.
Not relaxed, but now knowing what exactly I should be on edge for and to what level. About an eleven point five on a scale from one to ten. I swiveled my head around again, my eyes working flawlessly again, and I found a door. A tall wooden door with its stain matching that of the stand, and decided that before I marched out to take on the world again, I might as well check the note.
I walked, not stumbled, over to the stand and picked up the note. It's paper was freshly made and thick, not that loose-leaf crap. It was a soft white, not bright even to irritate my sensitive eyes, and it actually smelled clean. Anyway, here's what the Welcoming Comittee eft me:
Avira, look for directions to the Library Hall. Once you get there, ask for a man named Clordan Rancourt. He will you. I will see you later on to discuss things further.
-Christian
Is it Easter? 'Cause I don't recall signing up for an egg hunt. Why was I the one to chase the wild goose?
I sighed. If this guy was willing to help me out, I guess I should find him and figure out what was going on. Besides, if Christian wanted me dead, I'd already be so. But of course, that doesn't mean I trust him. I trust no one, remember?
Anyway, I creaked open the door, with only my fists to depend on when and if the time came to use them. I opened my ears, straining, listening for any sort of noise, anything at all, to prepare myself for what was out there. But no sounds came to my sensitive ears, nothing but the buzz of the lights. Peeking my head out, I peered hard in the white halls I'd come down earlier, Colt limping beside me, Mallory yapping away, explaining while I decided not to listen. An occasional, "Uh huh" or "Yep." was all that I needed to keep her off my back. Otherwise, she'd didn't seem like a bad lady, but looks could be decieving.
I stepped out, my hospital robe still on. It made things... Drafty. But, it covered up what was needed, and that's all that mattered. Its plush made things a little warmer than necessary, so I assumed I'd be okay in this thing if anything happened, but I'd need to find some footgear quick.
Next door was Colt's room. He told me if anything happened, he'd be there. Thank God. I didn't think I could take on all of this place, even if I was as tough as a bull, and more than willing to prove that. I'd need some help here, definately. I knocked on his door, the same stain shade as mine and every other door in this blazing white hall, and waited for an answer. None came. Well, I wanted to know what time it was, see if he would be awake right now, but there was no clock and someone had my effin watch. So, I knocked again. When no answer came, I walked in. Bed was made, coat on its hanger, (Colt's coat, of course.) boots lined up against the wall. Everything as it should be. But where was he?
I left the room, nothing giving away my presence here. I listened hard again, hoping to hear any sign of life to direct me toward. Absolutely nothing. I'd have to guess at where to go, and hope I could find my way out. Besides, it was a hospital, how hard could it be?
Looking behind me, I saw the hall went straight down and a left turn was at the end of the hall. In front of me, the hall stretched forward and had two turns at the end. Now, me being me, I hate going backward. You saw that in the tunnel. I'd forgotten which way led where, so I went forward. I'd take a right at the end.
As I moved down the creepy hall, I kept my footsteps silent, while some idiot would let his bare foot slap against the linoleum like some musical instrument. Looking ahead, my eyes glued to the scenery directly in front of me, I saw a little sign jutting out the side of the hall's wall. As I looked harder, I saw an arrow. Directions!
I sped up a little to get there just a bit faster, my heart matching the pace of my steps. There, I saw the sign said "Front Desk" and the arrow pointed left. And I was just about to go right, how lucky was I?
I flattened myself against the wall at the end of the hall, listening for anything. I heard a series of clicks, a space of silence, and then some more clicks. It was more like a tapping then a click, but relatively the same thing. I peeked around the corner to see a friendly looking woman in a creamy white T-shirt on a comfy looking computer chair behind a giant desk stained tan.
Nothing unfriendly about her. She had a creamy white stone on a gold chain, I assumed was real, around on her neck. A good tool if anything went wrong. Her wrinkles showed she had aged slightly, that and the gray streaks in her strawberry blonde hair.
I'd go out. Stepping forward, I rounded the corner and walked as if nothing was wrong, my feet still making no noise, but I was friendly looking, innocent almost. Her face rose from the computer screen to meet mine and she instantly smiled. That's a first.
"Hello sweetheart. What's your name?" She asked me quite nicely, and I stiffled a snarl at the sweetheart.
I smiled back, walking all the way up to the desk, leaning against its smooth, tan surface, blinking once. "Avira."
Her face lit up, "Mr. Bollman left you something."
I had to frown, curious to know who she was talking about. "Mr. Bollman?"
She was standing up, but she turned to me to continue the conversation. "Christian, dear. Don't you remember?"
This time, I really did frown. "Yeah, I remember."
The secretarian went for a door behind her desk, leaving me alone for a moment. What would Christian leave me? For all I knew, that guy hated me, hated my guts.
The woman came back, a pile of what looked like clothing with a pair of lame looking sneakers. "Here you go, you can change in the bathroom over there." Her finger pointed to the door with a little woman's silohiette on the door. Great. I looked back up at her, forcing a smile. "Thanks." I took the stuff and went into the bathroom swinging the door open and locking it behind me.
I let all the stuff fall to the floor, sorting through it. A pair of faded jeans, possibly bleached, some cheesey white New Balance sneakers, white tube socks, and a crappy orange T-shirt the shade of effin sherbert. My lip curled up in disgust, but I didn't really care for this robe anymore. Besides, it'd only be for a day. Until I could get my stuff back, I could wear this.
I slipped off my robe and into my new clothes, they even included the underclothes I needed. The shoes fit well enough, they didn't rub on my toes and they didn't feel like clown shoes. The shirt was just a bit baggy, but I liked it that way. Only my pants seemed to be a problem. They were just a bit too tight, and not quite long enough, stopping just above my ankles. I swore silently and pulled them down a little, thankful for the long shirt. On the bottom of the pile, I found, there was a plastic circle on a cheap metal bead chain. I put it on and took a look at the circle. On it read: Unknown Until Further Notice. I felt a flash of fury and before I knew it I found I'd ripped it off and threw at the wall.
I left the room, in my new get up, and brought the robe out to the secretarian, feeling an immense amount of dislike against her. "Here." I said bluntly, leaving it on the desk and leaving. I was too angry at her to ask any question about the library or my stuff. I just jetted, I was out.
Out into the streets I stood on the side of a huge town. Well, maybe not huge. It was a really big town square though, big enough to compete with New York City's Time Square Garden. Buildings lined its perimeter, an open dock on the east side, (Assuming I was standing North) a trail following the sea's bank up into a wooded area. Cabins and houses lined the rest of the square, only a few different huge buildings.
One looked like Yankee stadium, a grand staircase leading up to its door. Get this, it had no roof. Another, not too far away from it, looked like the greatest museum ever. It was fancy, but small and quaint. Another looked almost like a school, but was way too small for that. In the center of it all, a giant silver statue of griffin that looked like it was brand new. No name or plaque underneath it, just the griffin itself.
People were walking around, doing what normal people would be doing in a town. The square was only dirt and sand, probably because of the sea beside it, so I wasn't too freaked out about that. What really wierded me out was that there were no kids. At all. It was as if the pelican baby has suddenly decided he wanted a refund.
I looked up to the north and found a construction site. Nothing wierd about that. Guys in hard hats, dragons, hammers, jackhammers, yelling.... Wait a second. I peered harder through the crowd. Great lizards reared up high over the workers and did their bidding, pounding in stakes, clawing at the sandy soil. My jaw dropped as I stared at them. Some had wings, some had none, some had spikes, some had furry manes, some had scales, some with skin, some were green, some were an earthy brown. It was amazing. Dragons! No one had ever told me about dragons.
Eventually I found a prod on my shoulder. I jumped and whipped around to find a young guy staring at me. "You okay?" He asked, his tawny eyes warm and friendly. His hair was cut amazingly, a dark brown, neat and shiny in the sunlight. I stared for a moment longer before snapping out of it. "Um... No. Not a bit." I ignored the dragons and went on to my primary objective. "You know where the Library Hall is?" I asked, curious instead of dumbstruck.
He nodded, "Yeah sure. I can bring you there. Come on." He started walking, and I followed him, at his side. "I'm Cody." He said simply.
I figured I'd need to say my name, to keep on this guy's good side. He was the only friendly I knew beside Colt, and I had no idea what Colt was right now. "Avira." I said simply.
"Cool name." He said, peering over his shoulder to me. "I get that a lot." I lied, grinning.
"It's better than Cody, that's for sure." He looked forward again and I walked by his side. We were crossing the square, over to the fancy museum. "So what's in the Library Hall?" Cody asked, not looking down at me. He was about six feet tall, I was only five and a half, maybe 5'7". Not too tall.
I shrugged, "Not sure. Just doing what I was told to do, I guess." Following directions blows, just so you know.
"Well, good luck." He said, stopping at the stair well leading up.
I went to look up at him and thank him, but he was gone. I was left with an open mouth and empty air. Shrugging it off, I went into the library. Up the marble stairs and through the huge, heavy doors, and onto the soft rug of the richest red. A desk sat in front of me, a computer blocking the face typing away. With the thud of door closing behind me, a man squinted his face at me. He looked puny and nerdy, like freshman Jared from school. Poor little guy, I hope he's doing alright. I wasn't friends with him, but I liked to stick up for the little people, especially if it led to a brawl.
The guy continued staring with a scowl and I scowled right back at him. "What do you want?" I asked rudely. He's eyes narrowed further and he opened his mouth. "What are you here for?" He asked bluntly.
"I'm here to Nunya." I shot back, hoping to God he take the bait.
"Nunya who?" Your awesome.
"Nunya effin business, not get back to your little computer, Pointdexter." I snarled back him and he simply glared, looking like he was going to actually get up.
"What, you gonna get up? Come on, do somethin. I dare ya." I tempted him, leaning foward over his desk, my finger tapping on my cheek. "One right here, go ahed. Call it a gift." I waited, but felt nothing. I backed away and met his gaze, feeling quite dangerous. "I thought so." And that's where I walked away, looking for someone to direct me to this Cloridan guy.
There were two main sections. Fiction and Non-Fiction. As I looked harder at the guide, I saw Fiction branched off into its usual, fantasy, action, mystery, ect. Non-Fiction branched off a little more different. I saw Science, History, Dragons, Anatemy, and Guardians. Wierd? Slightly. I listened for movement, blocking out the computer and its annoying keyboard.
I picked up some words, verbal responses, northeast. I started following it, threading my way through the expensive looking bookcases stocked full with books with binds of leather or something of the like. I only glimpsed at a few titles: 20,000 Leaguse Under The Sea, Gulliver's Travels, Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde, Romeo & Juliet, by the looks of it, I figured I was in the Fiction section.
Finally I got to the voices, waltzing right into a corner in the library where a circle table sat with four different chairs around it. Each had a cushion the seat. You wouldn't know how relived I was to see Colt there, in his own chair, practically buried by the amount of books he had piled in front of him. He was talking with an old man he looked brute and impatient. That old guy looked up at me, and Colt followed his gaze, stopping in the middle of his sentence.
"Avira!" He said, trying to jump up in his seat, but failing because of his leg, still wrapped up in it's white cast.
I grinned back, winking. "Hey bro."
He looked back at the old guy, "Cloridan, this is Avira. The girl I was telling you about." Looking back at me, Colt said, "Avira, this is Mr. Rancourt."
Glancing back up at the old guy, I found his scowl and matched it. "This is her? I feel disapointed, among other things." He said simply, not letting his gaze drop. He had a huge french accent, and as if to make sure I knew he was French, he muttered, "Cher Dieu m'aide."
I straigtened up, making myself slighlty taller. My chin rose a little and I found my hands curled into fists. "You gotta somethin' to say?"
He only glared at me. "Is that supposed to be your idea of a threat?" I felt my jaws clamp together, my lips curled up in anger and disgust. "If all you can do is talk, you won't be much of a problem." He shrugged impassively, looking back down at Colt.
"Come on over here, I'll show you what I can do." I retorted.
"Avira...." Colt tried to break it up, like usual. I tapped my toe, Trust me. He got the signal perfectly, and he let me go. I thanked him silently, cursing for the lack of telepathic powers.
Rancourt kept my gaze. "You really think you have what it takes, don't you?" He actually cracked a half-hearted smirk.
I narrowed my eyes, "You don't believe me?"
"You'll have to prove it." He grinned.
"You give the time, I'll show you what I got."
"Now, but not here." Rancourt was toying with me. I could feel it.
"Fine."
Colt broke in. His voice was nervous and he looked a little uneasy. "You guys are going to fight? Avira, you realize how old this guy is, right?" He was trying to stop it, but for this old guy. Usually it's for my favors. I felt slightly betrayed, but knew he was right. I shouldn't be fighting this guy, but I couldn't help myself.
"No, not a fight." Cloridan answered him before I could reply, I was still debating on my answer.
"What? Then how?" I replied, outraged. I wanted a fight, a hand-to-hand brawl.
"Training." He grinned. [right]

[Rain]

Chapter 16:
Girls Fight Dirty

And that, folks, is exactly how I ended up in a leafy clearing in the middle of a clearing facing my own obstacle course, Chey Boyardee standing on the side, Colt back at the library, deciding not to see how this was going to end. He probably figured it'd end badly. He was probably right.
There was a huge wall with a rope hanging down it, the rest of the course was hidden by that. Of course, the wall wasn't meant to be easy, covered in mossy and rain. It was still sprinkling lightly, but I loved the rain, so I was happy enough.
"I don't have all day." My new trainer called out, and I responded by flipping in him the bird with a hardy glare. He rolled his own eyes and rose the timer up.
I didn't wait any longer, breaking into a fast sprint, misty wind in hair, pounding into my face. I felt good, as I jumped for the rope. My little Bambi leap took me about three feet up, my hands grasping the rope with my hands as I easily pulled up the wall, my feet finding purchase very easily. I reached the top and jumped down into a pit about six feet deep. My grave?
I decided to get out. Jumping I clawed my fingers into the dirt, only to fall back in. Groaning, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. How was I supposed to get out of here? And then it hit me. When I was little, I used to play video games at Colt's house. I remember the game vividly. The Looney Tunes Adventures or something of the sort. Bugs would richochete at two different walls, back and forth, until he reached the top. That's what I'd do. I jumped at the wall ahead of me, pushing my legs hard at the dirt, sending myself directly behind. I flipped around before I hit my head into the mud, and kicked at the dirt again, reaching the top.
I pulled myself out, my orange shirt now muddied, my jeans forever stained. There, I stood up to see hurdles. Each one got a little higher as they went around the clearing, leading up to a tunnel I supposed I had to go through. I started my leaps, clearing the first five perfectly. The sixth got a little trickier, my jump barely clearing it. The seventh my jeans rubbed against, almost making it tip. The eight I vaulted over, forget that jump.
Next was the... stepping stones? Each stone was barely the size of my palm, and I had to jump on each one without falling. Or so I guessed. Well, no hesitation or I'll just add on more time than necessary.
I felt like a doe, leaping from stone to stone, I was astonished to see how I didn't fall off one of them. By the time I realized I was done, I'd already dove into the tunnel to find it was filled with... Water!
I breezed through the tunnel, the water making me Speedy Gonzalez. I crawled out, the slope of mud soaking me further. The huge grin on my face said it all to Cloridan as I stood there, hand on hips, cocky as ever.
"A minute and fifteen seconds." He called out. His little clipboard in his hands as he scribbled over it, his pen scratching agains the paper. After a moment, he looked up at me. "Your lacking strength." He said simply, hiding a smile.
I growled at him, "Yeah? You wanna see how much strength I got?" Not strong enough? Showed how much he knew. If he came anywhere near me, I swore I'd knock his head clear off his shoulders. I dared him to come over here.
He smiled, "You wish to show me how strong you are? Fine. Come with me."
I did, furious enough to listen to him. We left the forest, walking around the docks and back into the square where the dragons still amazed me. Shoving through the light crowd, we found ourselves in front of what I thought of the stadium. He looked at me once more, grinning from ear to ear. "Come." Up the stairs he went, as light as a acrobat, and I followed him.
He opened the doors and my jaw dropped. Now the Yankee stadium has chairs, right? Take that right out of this place. A huge sandy clearing with a grid of of wooden fences dividing it up into huge plots of land. Remember all those missing kids? I found them. It looked like every kid here was.... fighting. The youngest were six, and they were fighting grown-ups, huge burly guys with eight packs and arms that could crush my head in about three-point-two seconds.
My eyes locked onto a little hispanic girl, a few years younger than I was, maybe fourteen, stading face to face with a pair of huge buff guys with a sword in each of their hands. She stood there, nothing but her hands to defend her. They lept at her, and I jumped forward, stopped by Rancourt. I looked up at him in horror, but his eyes were glued to the fight. I was forced to watch, my heart in my throat.
They charged at her and she ducked just as they were about to swing their deadly swords at her. A kick there and a small chop there and they were unarmed, the both of them. As one tried to get his swords, she jumped and kicked him in his throat and he hit the ground like a rock. The other guy charged at her and she ducked out of his way, tripping him easily. He tried to get up, but she kicked him just above his temple, not even hard, just a small tap, and he was knocked out. The other was breathing too hard to even dream of getting up and continuing the fight. She sighed and picked up the swords, putting three away, working with one.
Her balance was amazing, and she could swing the sword anyway she wanted to. She was brilliant, and an amazing fighter. Once the one man got his breathing right again, he picked up his budy and marched off, his head hanging, but smiling.
"Jasmine!" Rancourt called to her, walking over, and she turned around, meeting his eyes with her hands on hips, sword still in hand. Her eyes were the first thing I noticed. She had no iris, no pupil, just blue. A sky blue, at that. They were pretty, but strange. "What?" She asked.
He motioned to me and she grinned, throwing her sword down. "Avira, if you beat Jasmine, I'll stop your training." He said, ushering me into the pen. I felt like a sheep, trapped in the white boards of wood. There was no way I'd beat this kid, but I didn't care. I needed a fight. Now.
"Bring it." I said, facing her.
"When I say so, you two-"
He never finished. Before he was done, I'd jumped at the girl, taking no mercy on her. I went to grab her arm and pin both hands together behind her back, forcing her onto the ground.
But this kid. This effin kid. She knew I was coming, though her eyes were clamped shut, and grabbed my arm instead.
She turned around and flipped me over her shoulder. I flew through the air, eyes wide open, pain exploding all down my spine on impact. I gritted my jaws together, fury blooming in my mind.
She put her foot, bare foot. against my neck, and I was pinned. She grinned. "Guess I win."
I forced a laugh, and she lost her grin, slightly confused. Jasmine tightened her grip on my wrist. Good.
"Not yet." I muttered, and I pulled my legs into my chest and shot them out into her belly, pulling my arm back hard, and I flipped her. I held tight, cling to her so I landed on top, my arm shoved hard against her neck. She was pinned. "Having fun yet?" I asked, smiling.
"A blast." She responded, smiling back. She head-butted my face, kicking my stomach and pushing me over. I laid on my belly, both my stomach and my face throbbing with pian, my mind too dazed for me to do anything.
She pushed her foot against my skull, my nose driven into the sand. Jasmine pulled back on my arms, taking what hope I had for winning away. I was finally pinned.
I heard a voice, coky and proud. "How ya feelin'?"
I was close to passing out, seeing as though I hadn't eaten in days and my hydration levels were probably just as low. I swear she had a titanium plate in her skull, but I still had enough left in me for a witty comeback. "Just about ready for tea-time and crumpets, how bout you?" I muttered, rolling my head to the side so I could breathe, forcing Jasmine's foot to move with me.
Rancourt called her off. "Alright, that's quite enough, Jasmine." He was laughing.
Damn it all.
Her weight lifted off me and I had control over my arms again.
I forced myself up, to face the little kid and see her smug face, her arms crossed over her chest in triumph. Her eyes were on me, dancing with humiliating humor.
"Avira." Cloridan started, and I cut him off, frowning. "Shut up Rancourt, I don't need you laughing at me too. It's bad enough I was beat by some little kid." I rolled my eyes, turning to him.
"I am not some little kid." Jasmine cut in.
I turned back, annoyed. "Oh yeah? At least you think so, kid."
Her eyes burned with blue fire. "Jasmine."
Me, I'd already turned back around, not hearing what she'd said, only hearing that she had sad something. So I whipped back around, annoyed. "What?"
"Jasmine Carmina Rodrigez. And I'm not some little kid." She growled at me, and I actually felt slightly intmidated.
I simply sighed, turning back to Rancourt. "So, Trainer, what are we doing now? Can we grab something to eat? I'm starving."
And that's where my French humiliator cleared his throat, dropping his gaze, seeming uncomfortable around my presence. Or Jasmine's. I couldn't tell which. Not yet.
"I won't be your mentor." He said, not meeting my eyes.
I furrowed my brows, simply confused. "So... Who's my mentor?"
"Jasmine will be your mentor." He said, tensing up, ready to take a step back.
We both responded at once with an outraged "What?"
He held his hands up denfensively. "Jasmine, I haven't seen you fight that hard in months, and Avira needs the training. You want improvement? You'll train her." He growled at her, his voice gaining confidence as he went on, his hands falling back at his sides. Without another word, he whipped around and left. I sighed, not much earlier than she did. I looked at her, "So...."
She didn't talk, not nicely anyway, just a "Come on." and that was it. She strode forward, walking fast and hard out of the training course. On our way out, I finally took notice of everything here.
Only a portion had been corralled, the rest where... different. There was a section of sand with targets, bows, and plenty of arrows. There, kids were shooting at targets with pretty good accuracy. Some were even shooting at each other, the target hopping out of the way just before the arrow hit them, grinning from ear to ear with pride and amazement of their own achievements.
A huge jungle gym, that looked like a hell rather than a jungle gym, sat in the far west corner, kids swinging from bar to bar, becoming monkeys or ninjas of their own kind, even working with ropes to rub their skin with. I saw pain and struggle on each of their faces, girls and boys alike, but they kept going, motivated by their own defiant spirits. It was impressive to say the least.
A wooden door led to the bathroom, but it didn't seem occupated.
Near the entrance, they had kids breaking thick wooden boards with their skulls or their own palms. Either they broke it, leaving the board with smiling and slightly dazed faces, or they hit it with their head and passed out, the wood too much for them. It was cruel and it looked like only the bravest tried it out. It made me want to try it, blood pulsing through my veins with a fast velocity. But then I remember how weak I felt and kept moving behind Jasmine.

* * *

She led us out into the town and down across the square yet again to a building next to the library. It looked like an apartment complex, a three story building divided into apartments by their levels. Jasmine went all the way to the top. I stood at the stairwell, just done climbing up them, hunching over. My legs and arms were weak, little to no use left in them, and I actually had to breathe hard to get enough oxygen in my dizzy head.
Jasmine grabbed my sweaty wrist and pulled me forward. "We're almost there, come on." She said, pushing open a panel in the wall, ignoring the door near us. This was all a blur to me, but I remember seeing her lead me through the wall, up a steep slope with some foot holes for us to climb up with. In the attic, I found we had three rooms. A bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. I longed for a shower, for the water to soothe me and my every ache, but she instead led me to the bedroom. Two beds sit in there, with a chest at the end of each. One was made up with a blanket and a pillow, a sheet probably beneath it, the other was bare, only a pillow dwelled there. She pushed me onto the made bed, since I could barely sit down myself.
There, she left me and went into the kitchen. I laid on the bed, struggling to keep conscious. I went over the tunnel over and over, each time guilt driving hard into my stomach than before. I practically cried back there, when I couldn't Colt up. The waterfall was the worst, I wanted to save him, to keep him from falling, from drowning, but it happened too fast for me to do anything about it. We were doomed to our deaths, and now he had a broken leg. How great of a friend was I? He was supposed to be my brother and I treated him like I treated Derrell. I was so ashamed that I couldn't feel anything else but the pounding ache of guilt in my stomach.
When a delicious scent hit my nose, it made my brain fizz. Cheesy and warm, that much I could tell. Frying could be heard and I thought I heard a whisk going nuts out there in the kitchen, but I couldn't be sure. In merely seconds, Jasmine was back in the room with a glass of orange juice. The sweet liquid was calling me, crying for me. Avira, come here. I need you Avira, drink me. Please, please just drink me. But I couldn't get up, I was too weak. Jasmine sat on my bed, next to my face, where I lie on my belly. "Get up." She said, no emotion in her words.
I tried, but my weak arm trembled at the very thought of getting up. I groaned, falling back down. She sighed and put the glass on the carpeted floor. Grabbing my shirt, she pulled, and I put in the effort to get up, pushing as much as I could with my arms. Finally I was sitting up, and Jasmine had the glass in her hand, tipping the sweet juice into my mouth, and I was drinking it as fast as I could gulp until the whole thing was down. "More." I simply said, but she shook her head. "No way. Wait." She left me again, and I was left to feel my head throb, going into shock as my brain ebbed back into it's full strength, finally able to let me think once more.
I was in an attic. Of a three-story apartment complex. Each floor was an apartment, it looked like. I looked around the room. White walls, dark gray carpet, a dresser next to each bed, along with the chests. I looked across the room at Jasmine's side, up at her dresser, a rich cherry stain on it, and saw the cage. I found the energy, just barely, to get up and check it out. I grew up in a life with no animals, besides Molly, and the horses. (How could I forget the nights Colt snuck off for midnight rides? We were always so tired at school the next day, but it was far more than worth it. ) So I was always pumped to find another animal to pamper.
I stumbled across the three feet of floor and peered into the cage, to be met by an angry snarl. It boomed in my head and I backed my face away slightly. I blinked and looked down into the cage. There, a black rat glared at me with it's angry red eyes. It's one ear had a tear in it, the other one looked as if half of it was ripped away entirely.
"Hey!" Jasmine called at me, enraged. I turned to her, my vision still a little blurry.
I rubbed my forehead. "Hay is for horses, kid."
She rolled her eyes, grabbing my arm. "Come on... Whatever you're called. Lunch is done." She led me out into the kitchen, where a table with two chairs sat, slightly dusty, but she sat me down in the chair facing the oven and stove. She cleaned off the table with a cloth lightning fast and laid down a plate full of food. Six hashbrowns the size of pancakes, a huge hunk of cinnamon swirl bread that was so fresh it was still warm, three bannanas in their sweetest stage, mango, and a huge fluffy thing that looked like a pancake. She gave me a tall glass of orange juice and another of fresh milk.
"Whoa." Was all I said, in awe. Jasmine had already started to keep cooking, flipping stuff around in her frying pan, spatula in the other hand. "Eat up." She said, not even looking at me.
That's all the permission I needed. She didn't give me any untensils, but at that point, I didn't need it. I dove into my food, destroying the hashbrowns first, the potatoeygoodness sending explosions on my tastebuds. They were amazing, and I was almost sad when they were all gone. But then I attacked my bread and the sweetness of the cinnamon made my head whirl. By the time that was done, my belly was halfway full, but my plate was still piled high. I bit into the fluffy thing on my plate and practically lost it. "Oh my gawd." I groaned in true bliss, "It's so good." I shoveled it into my mouth. "What is it?" I didn't look up, just piled more of the fluffy goodness covered in cheese into my throat.
I barely heard her turn around, " Tortiya dea patata." She said.
I lifted my eyes from my plate, my jaw hanging open. "Huh?"
Only then when I really listened to it, that I realized she said "Torilla de Patata."
I smiled up at her, hardly believing I could smile at my mortal enemy. Or was Christian my mortal enemy? Good question I'd answer later.
"It's so good."
She simply shrugged and fixed up her own miniature fix of my food. She only took water, no milk. Was she lactose intolerant? I wasn't really one to ask questions, but if I was her new roommate, we might as well get to know each other. Make lemonade from lemons, right?
"You don't like milk?" I asked, swallowing my food to talk with a little more clarity.
She shook her head, looking up at me. "One glass a day for me, and I save it for dinner. A glass of juice for breakfast, water for everything else." She took a bite of her hashbrowns, actually using a fork.
"Ah." I said, falling silent again. But, it didn't last for long. I had so many questions it was hard to pull one out without the rest falling behind it. "Where'd you learn to cook?" I asked her, smiling.
She didn't smile, didn't even look up at me. "In New York, you learn to fend for yourself." Jasmine replied, almost grimly.
"Is that where you got your rat?"
Jasmine whipped up her head at me, glaring. "What's wrong with my rat?" I heard a snarl in the other room. Instantly my hands went up defensively, "I didn't mean anything by it, I just wanted to know. You don't have to tell me." I looked back at my plate, wishing I wasn't hungry anymore, but needing the food. I finished off my tortilla and ate my mango, leaving only my bannanas to munch on. By the time I went for my drink, I had only a single bannana left and maybe two sips of my milk left. My orange juice had been sipped dry, though I don't really remember drinking it. Then again, I'd eaten so fast it was a blur.
"Where you from?" Jasmine asked, eating slowly.
"Do I have to say?" I said blandly. I didn't exactly want to play twenty questions.
"And you can ask me whatever you want to?" She shot back, looking up at me. I sighed, she had a very good point.
"Colorado." I said simply, looking back down at my bannana.
"What part?"
I searched my cranium for any sort of information on my hometown, but all I could remember was something about grasshoppers. "I-" Nope, there was absolutely nothing in my head on the name of the town. Had the concussion taken some memory away forever? "I can't remember." I frowned, a little dismayed. What else had I forgotten?
"Fair enough. Any siblings?" She seemed a little depressed with that question, but she'd asked it. I guess I would answer, it was easy enough.
"Nope. But my cat is like my sister." I smiled, remembering the fluffball bobcat I called Molly. She was beautiful, and I really missed how she woud comfort me any time she could, without things getting sappy. She always had a good sense of that, and she always listened. "You?" I asked, looking up at her. I'd finished my food, my stomach crammed.
"A brother. Armando." She said, not looking up from her now empty plate. All the food had been eaten and it was time to clean up. I'd do dishes today. I got up and cleared the table, cleaning off the plates with Jasmine's fork and putting them in the sink, starting the water. She got up, "Here, I'll do it."
"Chill out dude, I'll do it. It's not a big deal." I shooed her away, scrubbing the plates down with a soft sponge full of dishsoap and suds. "Stay there, won't ya? We could... Talk some more." I said, shrugging, my shoulder blades rotating. I hadn't realized how cramped they felt.
"Fine." Jasmine sighed, unhappy, but willing to go on.
"How old is he?"
"Four. Four years old." I heard her reply.
I smiled, "I've always wanted a brother. But my friend Colt, he's my best friend. He's like my big brother, he'll do whatever he can to help me out." I said, putting a fork in the strainer. I was onto a pan, the plates and silverware done. I had two frying pans, three cups, and a big bowl left.
"Nice. How old's he?"
"Sixteen, same as me."
"Twins then. You two are twins." She smiled at me, her blue eyes twinkling,
I nodded in response, "Yeah, I guess so. If you wanna put it that way." I smiled back at her, over my shoulder, then went back to the dishes.
"What grade were you in?"
"Me?" I asked, stopping momentarilly. I had to think hard to remember this one, but once it came out, I remembered everything about my school. "Ninth. For the second time. You?"
Jasmine responded again, without hesitation. "Used to be in fifth, but kinda lost interest in school." She shrugged.
I stopped, finished with the dishes. "Your parents didn't care?"
She didn't look at me, she refused to, even when I sat down in my chair. "They weren't around much."
I slouched in my chair. "Don't feel bad, my dad left me when I was five." I actually laughed at that, remembering the scum bag when he left.

I'd woken up from another bad dream and saw him packing up his stuff, putting on his coat at our door.
"Daddy? Where are you going daddy?" I whimpered, so scared from my dream.
He gave me a hug. "I'll be back, sweetheart. I promise. Go back to sleep, you have school tomorrow." He smiled at me, his face innocent.
Of course, I shook my head. "No daddy, tomorrow we go to church." I smiled really big at him, back when I believed in the Lord. I prayed every night, for the bad dreams to never come. Even when they did come, I prayed and prayed some more. My prayers were never answered, the dreams always came back for me.
He grinned at me. "I love you, Avira." He kissed my forehead and left, I can't believe I was stupid enough to actually wave him goodbye, Molly at my feet, rubbing against my legs. Goes to show how dumb I am.

Jasmine looked up at me, frowning. "Nice dad. How's your mom?"
I scratched my cheek, not hesitating even slightly, though I felt like crying at that question. "A tramping whore."
She nodded slowly. Silence fell down on us, and I felt as if I were actually making a friend. Imagine that. A new friend. I reached my hand out, just to make it official. "Allies?"
The girl sat there for a moment, then nodded. "Allies." She left my hand in the air, but at least we had made ammends. "You fight good." I said, grinning.
"You're not too bad yourself. Just a little work here and there." She shrugged, smiling back. She was tapping her fingernails against the table, a short snap in response.
"Um.... You're twitching." I said uncomfortably.
She looked at me, confused. "Huh?" Then she finally realized it and shrugged. "Bad habit, I guess." I shrugged at her. It was something I could get used to.
"Does it bother you or somethin?"
I shook my head, of course not. It'd take a lot more than that to bother me.
"Huh?" Her fingers seemed to tap a little harder, and only slightly faster.
"No, no. You're fine man, chill out. You're like a little addict, flippin out."
She shook her head. "Sorry, sorry. I'll be chill." She smiled.
"'Kay." I replied, laughing. A few more moments and I felt uncomfortable, only then realizing how filthy I was. "Aw dude, I need a shower."
"Right behind you." She nodded to the door behind me, leading into what I hoped was the bathroom. "Thanks." I left the room, opening the door to a subtle yellow room, a standing stall for a shower protected by mirrored glass. Guess no baths for me. I slipped off my dirty clothes and took my shower, turning the hot water on as far as it can go, steam billowing from the spraying spout. I was drenched already, but this felt great. I ran my fingers through my narled hair, a rat's nest there from weeks without brushing. I drenched it in a bottle of shampoo I found in a shelf that was put up on the shower wall. After rubbing it a little, some of the hair sorted itself out and my knot was loosened. I washed it out, putting in my conditioner. I'd let that sit and mess around with my black yarn ball of hair later. I brushed my teeth with a spare toothbrush I found and some tasty toothpaste and washed up with a bar of soap. I washed up three times, until the water finally ran clean. Then, I finally went through my hair and picked it out the best I could, tendrils of black slipping out to fall around my neck, untangled at last. I rinsed out the silky substance and turned off the shower. I found a white towel on it's hanger near the sink. I wrapped up in it and looked down at my clothes. No way I was putting that back on.
"Jasmine?" I called out, only to be answered by silence. I swore to myself and opened the door I crack, the temperature difference making my face recoil. It was freezing out there. "Jasmine." I called out.
She answered me this time, looking over at the door. "What?" She was tapping her foot. Did she ever stop tapping? "I need some clothes, man." I know she was a girl, but I just couldn't manage to walk out in a towel. With Colt I could. I could walk around in a bra and pants in front of Colt, he didn't care, and niether did I. But not with Jasmine, no way. Not a chance in hell.
Groaning, Jasmine walked away. "Hang on." She came back with a black T-shirt, some black cargo pants, a hoodie, some black skater shoes, and a watch. Only then did I notice they were mine. Shocked, I looked up at her. "Where'd you get these?"
She only shrugged, "Cloridan stopped by and said Elder of Saphire sent them."
"Mallory?" Mallory sent my clothes? All my stuff?
"Yeah." She nodded, walking away.
I shut the door, my stuff in my hands. Even my old underclothes were there. They were all clean too, soft and clean. I was estatic. Instantly I hopped into my clothes and felt a million times better. I searched my pockets and grabbed out a candy bar, still saved in its wrapper, sealed up tight, safe from soapy water. I bit into my Kit-Kat and walked out. I left my old clothes in there and directed myself to the room. I put my hoodie into the chest near my bed and sat down on the blanket. Jasmine was on her bed, with her rat laying on her chest. "What's it's name?"
"Hades." She answered, not looking at me.
I fumbled around the blankets for a second, covering up in it, my wet hair drenching my pillow. "Nap time." I muttered, closing my eyes.
Jasmine jumped up, her rat in the palm of her hand. "No way, get up. You've been sleeping for two days, last I heard. You gotta stay up for the whole day. It's already three now, you stay up until eight and I'll let you sleep."
I groaned, my hands on my face. "This place is impossible." Sitting up, I saw her grinning.
"It only gets better. Come on." She already had Hades on her shoulder, running for the door. I forced myself to follow, walking down the slope as she slid down the rail of the stairwell, hopping from rail to rail when it ended at the base of each flight. I envied her acrobatic skill, but remembered this was what I was here for, what Jasmine was here for.
My belly bursting, I followed her down the stairs as fast as I could, jumping a few on each flight. I went out the door and into the square, running after Jasmine as she headed to the stadium, the training center. "Wait up!"
She laughed, "No way, you come on!"
I had to admire her stamina. I charged after her, breathing hard. We skidded to a stop at the stairs and at the same time charged up them, Jasmine finishing first. We ran into the center and she went for the jungle gym of hell. Leaping over a pit of mud, she grasped a bar, flipped over it a couple times, and then crouched mid-swing. "Whatcha waitin' for?"
"I just took a shower." I complained.
"What, you afraid to break a nail or somethin? Get your ass up here!" I still hesitated. "Coward." She smiled, jumping higher into the knot of steel bars. If you whacked your head on one of those, it looked lethal. But I couldn't take the name-calling. I had to do it. I laughed and jumped straight for the rope, swinging on it like a monkey. "So what we doin?" I called.
"Hang on." She said, scrambling through the maze of steel, finally crouching on a bar not more than three feet away from me. She jumped and clinged to my feet. Hades crawled onto my shoulder, snarling. He freaked me out quite a bit, since I thought he'd bite me at any second.
I slid down a few feet, freaking out. "What are you doin'?" I called down to her. She was dragging both of us down, and I couldn't use my legs to keep us from slipping. "Climb to the top!" She answered me, giving me my first official order.
I thought she was insane, but as I climbed up, my hands burning with pain, arms on fire with effort, I realized she was helping me work on my arm strength, and I was actually feeling it in my belly, my abs burning just as badly as my arms. I strained to go further, working hard against gravity. After ten whole minutes, I reached the top, smiling. "Did it." I gasped, just loud enough for her to hear.
"Now go down." She said, and I groaned. Hades growled angrilly and I wasted no time to slide down, slowly, my hands burning with every agonizing movement. Two minutes later when I hit the bottom, she only told me, "Do it again." We did that for a whole frickin' hour, up and down the twenty-foot-tall rope, my hands red and raw, my arms barley capable of movement and my belly feeling as tight as a violin by the time I was done. She patted my back, and shockwaves went through my sore shoulders. "Nice."
She brought me over to a tall bar, hanging above me in the jungle gum, six feet up, hovering above mud. "Get up there and hook your legs on it." I climbed a few bars, not as efficiently as she had, but well enough, and did what she said. "Good, now do some sit ups." I looked at her, my jaw unable to open itself due to gravity. "No way."
"Way, man."
I went through an hour of painful curls, my legs threatening to drop me into the thick mud. I didn't want to drop because I just took a shower, but I was so drenched it sweat, I was beginning to think it didn't matter. Just when I was about to drop, Jasmine called up to me. "Six 'O Clock, time for track practice!" She was grinning wide, happy to make me work, to see me strain in effort. I got down, slowly, without falling, barely. She looked at me, finger tapping her chin. "On second though, a half an hour swim couldn't hurt."
I smiled, sighing with relief. "No, it couldn't."

* * *

We made our way down to the stream, she made me run, but we made it. It was by the docks, in the woods, gurgling with freshwater. She took off her shirt, leaving herself in a bra, and jumped in. I shrugged, taking off mine, and jumped in, drenching all my clothes over again. We raced along in the water for a while, splashing each other with the clean liquid. I knew I was clean ten minutes into the wash, but I didn't want to get out. Twenty-five minutes in, I froze. Something slid against my leg and I looked down to see a huge white.... Rock.
I picked it up, Jasmine had splashed some water in my face, but stopped when she didn't here me scream with joy. She looked over, "What is it?" I asked.
"A rock?"
"But rocks aren't this light." I shook my head. She hesitated.
"Right, right." I eyed her suspiciously, but she gave nothing away.
She came over and felt it, leaving her palm on it for only a moment, then her face went pale and she looked up at me. "It's a-"
Her trailed off voice made me shake my head. "No, no way. If it was an egg, it wouldn't be the size of a frickin football, there's nothing that b-" But there was something that big. I had an egg. A dragon's egg.

[Rain]

Chapter 17:
Gray Eggs

"No way, how'd I get this thing?" I struggled to spit out, still in the water.
Jasmine simply shook her head. "I don't know, you're not supposed to get them until they decide you're.... ready." She said, her voice sounding small and young, she finally sounded her age.
"Who?" I asked, looking up from the egg.
"I don't know, but who ever it is says you have a dragon." She struggled. "But they only hatched when they know you're ready to fight." Jasmine said, slipping on the bank as he tried to get out. She tapped the ground for a few seconds, then got out easily.
"What do I do with it?" I was panicking, I didn't want a dragon. No way, they freaked me out. They were awesome, but scary. I had no clue what these dragons were like. On Mirda, they could be man-eaters, slaves, or.... I didn't know! That's what scared me the most.
"Just bring it with you, we're going back to the complex!" She was getting her shirt on, trying to wring out the water from her jeans.
I got out, struggling to get my shirt on. My cargos were soaked and night was falling. It was going to get cold, and I wished for my hoodie. I pulled my shoes on, my socks now in my cargo's pockets. I ran after Jasmine, the egg in my hand, ever so gently.

* * *

We raced up the stairs, skipping them two at a time, out of breath by the time we reached our table, but not caring. I put the egg on the table, and we both sat down. Silence rang through my ears in a violent vibration, an annoying screech creeping in my eardrums.
After a minute, I broke the silence between us. "What are we gonna do?" I asked.
"Hide it. The elders can't know about it, not yet. They'll flip out. Trust me on this one, not a single Mirdan has gotten their egg this early. You don't just get it on your first day, it's never happened. " She told me. Fine, I'd put it in the chest.
"It won't hatch for a while, right?" I said, my nerves beginning to fray.
She nodded. "Months, more like it. Or in your case, about a month." Jasmine actually smiled. "I can't wait to get mine. You have no idea how jealous I am."
I was all bug-eyed and freaked out. I took the egg and rolled it over to her. "Here, take it man. I don't want it."
She shook her head, carefully rolling it back. "I can't, the egg was meant for only one person. You found it, it's yours. You just can't switch dragons. Your dragon is you, you are your dragon."
I was estatic, but scared. "So what do we do?"
"Keep training. When your finally ready, it'll hatch and you can start training with your dragon."
I took it and practically ran to my chest, laying it carefully on my hoody. The egg was a soft gray, and otherwise plain. Was my dragon going to be gray? "How do you tell the dragon's color?"
"You don't. Not until it hatches. Eggs are all the same color."
I swore under my breath, but when she came in, I tried to calm down and forget about my egg. "It's nine. We gotta go to bed."
Only then did I realize how tired I was. I crawled into bed while Jasmine turned off the lights and hopped onto her own bed.

* * *

I couldn't belive it, but when I woke up, it wasn't because of my own horrible dream. (This night, my dreams consisted of indians chasing me out of the woods they claimed as their own.) Nope, instead, it was Jasmine I was waking up.
I sat upright, bolting out of my horrors, muffled yelps and screams dragging me out of slumber. Jasmine was on her own bed, wreething around, squirming as she cried. She even talked a little bit, she sound as if she swallowed a can of nails and washed it down with glass, but the words were still noticeable. "Armando..." Was all I could make out, but still.
I scrambled out of my covers, only damp. It would be easier to clean than my usual drenched bed covers. I rushed over to her side, shaking her violently. "Jasmine." She didn't respond immediately, but once I'd screamed at her again, her tear-stained, bloodshot eyes opened. It was strange to look at cloudy blue eyes streaked with scarlet. I didn't like seeing her eyes bloodshot.
She sniffled and finally realized what had happened, where she was, and who she was with. She tapped on her wall, clamping her eyes shut, then opening them. She stopped tapping after a few seconds, pushing me off. "I'm fine." She sat up, her back laying hard against the wall.
"I guess we have more in common than I thought." I joked, enjoying the darkness. It was the deepest blue possible, objects just barely visible to me. I could make out Jasmine's face and it's features, but not much more than that.
She glared at me, her fingers tapping against the wall rapidly. "Yeah? What's that supposed to mean?"
I smiled back at her, shrugging. "I have nightmares every night. I'd had them every night since I was.... Five? They were on and off until just a little while before I had my sixth birthday. Then they stuck with me everynight."
Jasmine's jaw dropped, only slightly, and only for a millisecond or two. "I don't have nightmares." She rubbed her cheeks, wiping them dry.
"You're an awful liar." I said dryly. "What was this one about?" I pressed, I wasn't about to take no for an answer. If I was going to live with her, she was going to have to be healthy. Mentally just as well as physically.
She looked into the palms of her hands, closing her eyes as she sighed deeply. "My brother." She said, on the verge of tears again.
"Ramone? Where is here? Isn't he here in Mirda?" I asked, wildly confused.
She shook her head, despair falling off her in waves. "No, he's not here."
"Then where?" I made her look up at me, taking her face in my hands. She actually broke out into tears, "He's dead." Pushing me away, she got off the bed and stumbled her way into the bathroom. In a few seconds, the shower was running and I decided to get my bed changed. I stripped off all the coverings, dumping them at the foot of my bed. I ventured around our small room to find the sheets, but found absolutely nothing. So, I took off the casing of my pillow and threw it into my pile. The both of us were in clothes, but we were missing our pants. We didn't really care, since it was definately worth the fun we had down at the stream. I wished we were back there, in the frigid waters.
I laid on my bed, belly up, staring at the ceiling. It was a bare yellow, mocking me with its brightness, even in the dark it hurt my eyes. I shut my eyes and zoned out, listening to the water run. It was like rain, but never held the same intensity. I teased me, showers. Rain was far better, it was cold and fresh, forever pure until it reached the soil that soaked it up, taking it away from me. I loved just standing in downpours. It was exhilerating.
As I continued to listen, I could pick up Jasmine crying, and my belly turned ice cold. She was in tears, bawling away. Was she in the shower, or just huddled in a corner, hiding from the world, hoping it'd never find her? I used to do that. Let the water run, steam billow against my tear-streaked cheeks as I cried and cried and cried. I didn't really pinpoint the source of my tears, just knew I was in despair, and I let it go. I let it all loose, no top upon my emotions. At the end of my session, I'd soak my hair in the ice-cold water and wander out into the world, miserable and unhappy.
The water shut off, but I didn't move. If I learned anything from my own explosions, talking about the source would make you cry more, but eventually you'd root out the problem and you'd stop crying. Colt and I did this when we were little, when I found I actually did miss my dad, or I was sick of meatloaf, or afraid of going to sleep, only to find the nightmares. I'd cry and he'd help me, guide me through my troubles. Even when we were little, he'd help me, let me cry on his shoulder. Jasmine needed someone like that. And if no one else would do it, I guess I would.
She came back in, dressed in her clothes, steam billowing off her skin. So she did take a shower. Good. Water always seemed to calm me down. She didn't say a word, she sat down on her bed, sitting against the wall.
I took my chance. I got up, and she started tapping on the wall like crazy, her eyes on me. I sat on her bed, right next to her, and looked at her. She had to tap on the other wall, but she still tapped. "What'd you dream?" I asked so seriously I couldn't believe I was really doing this.
"None of your business." She snarled at me, a major fail since she'd just got done crying. It was more like a squeak than a snarl.
I took her wrist. "Tell me or I'll break this." It was a false threat, but how was she supposed to know?
"Do it." She glared at me, her face hardening, her voice strengthening.
I sighed, dropping her wrist and my gaze. I looked back at her, trying to be nice, sincere even. "You're never going to get rid of the dreams if you don't tell me what it's about."
She didn't say a word, didn't blink, hell, I don't even think she breathed in those few short moments. I sighed, feeling like a failure, and left for my own bed. As I lied on my bare bed, my head on the damp pillow, I stared at the ceiling, letting it sear my brain. What felt like hours passed, and I couldn't find sleep again. I was too caught up in the past, overwhelmed by how much pain I'd felt back then. And only then did I realize I still felt it, after all these years, I was still in a depression.
"My brother and I used to go bike riding down the alleys in the city." Jasmine started speaking and I instantly left my own brain, focusing on story time. "We'd lift a bike and ride it around. We'd always give it back when we were done with it. I always told Ramone it was bad to steal. He was just a little kid, you know? He didn't know any better. And there were so many kids down on our street that depended on stealing, that I had to constantly remind him not to." She was choking up, but she still forced the words. "I stole what I had to, to keep us living. Usually just bread or fruit, stuff like that. Our parents were poor, weren't around much. But they got us what they could, sometimes we pitched in, but only when we had to."
She let herself breathe for a few minutes, regaining her strength and courage, and I had to admire her. "One day, Ramone and I went down this alley, the basket on this bike I lifted was full of potatoes and apples I took from this marketer. He didn't even realize I'd done it until I was two blocks down, I stole three twenties from this other lady's wallet, kept 'em it in my coat pocket. I was telling him about it, giving it to him to hold on to for me, since he had this coat on with a zipper on one of the pockets." I heard her palm rub on her cheek, but I still didn't say anything.
"These bums, they heard us. They came out of no where, and one of 'em had a bat, whacked both of us of our bike. Ramone used to sit on the handlebars. When he fell, he fell right on his head. I fell on my back. I got up quick, right, but one of those guys sprayed something in my eyes, made em' sting really bad. Bad enough to have me on the ground crying so bad, and it only scared me more to find my tears were green and red. I passed out then, the world went dark." She was crying now, I could practically hear the tears rolling down her face.
"When I woke up, the whole world was black. I tried to reach out and hit the wall, and a blue shockwave went through everything. I saw I was still in the alley, alone. I kept hittin' the wall, gettin' some sorta vision, a sight. I looked down and next to me was Ramone, stiff as a board, cold as ice. Blood was spilling from his temple, and his coat was gone. They even took his shoes. Mine too. I can't remember how much I cried, when I found my brother dead. I shoulda saved him, he was my responsibility."
When I saw she was crying, I got up and hugged her, let her cry into my shoulder. "You couldn't have done anything, Jasmine. There were too many, you didn't have a chance." I rubbed her back, easing all the tears she had in her out. When she was done, my shoulder was soaked and I was in need of a new shirt.
"He was my little brother. He didn't do anythin to anyone. They had no right to do what they did to him. Not a right in the world, not for sixty bucks." She cried, her words muffled by my shirt. She kept crying for a few minutes more, and I was surprised she could actually cry this much for this long. Another few minutes crawled by and she finally stopped bawling. She was out of my arms and sitting up against the wall, tapping it. "I keep telling myself that if I'd been more careful, I could've avoided it. He'd be down here with me, him and Speck. He loved Speck, I always told him it was just some stupid pigeon, but he loved Speck. He told me she was his best friend." She took a hard breath, her face in her hands.
"There was no way you could have been prepared for that. It just happened, that's all." I looked at her, feeling so torn apart, so sad. Why is there such evil in the world? Why can't people just have what they need and be happy about it? Everyone would be treated equal, and none of this violence crap would ever happen.
Jasmine looked at me, tapping her hand on the wall again. "That's the worse part." She said, "Being able to go over that memory again and again, knowing there's nothing I could have done about it."
I hugged her, and she hugged me back, hard. I couldn't believe I was actually helping her, working her through it. "All I can hope to do now is train and train, preparing for the next time something like happens. Nothing will stop me, not even my eyes."
By now, I'd worked out she was at least partly blind. But, I had to ask, just to make sure. I'd hate to work out the wrong truths. "You're blind?"
She nodded, releasing me from her grip. "When I tap on stuff, the vibrations send off a blue wave of vision, where everything is a shade of blue, but I can make out what's there. It's the only way I can see now. " She sighed, her eyebrows furrowed. "You ever see that movie Daredevil?"
"The one where the guy's this justice dude at night and a lawyer during the day?"
She nodded, and I replied, "Yeah, I saw it."
"They based that movie off of me."
My jaw dropped, "No way."
She nodded again, grinning. "Yeah. After I stumbled home, my parents took me to the hospital and news spread about what happened. When I got out, I started training, desperate to get strong, to fight better than anyone in the city. They took my story, twisted it around, and made it into a drama movie. It was kind of stupid, but they made their money."
I frowned. "I like your version better, honestly." I cracked a grin at her, attempting to make her better. She already looked a little better, and she yawned. "Thanks. You wanna try and catch some shut eye?" I shrugged, already working my way over to my bare bed. "You gotta blanket or something?"
Jasmine pointed to the chest at the end of her bed and I opened it to see four sets of sheets, blankets, and pillow cases, with two pillows stuff in the chest. "Awesome." I grinned, grabbing a blanket. Looking up at Jasmine, I asked, "You wanna try to sleep with one of these?" She tapped the wall, and after a few seconds she nodded. "I'll give a shot."
I tossed her the blanket and grabbed my own, wrapping up in it as soon as I hit my matress. I fell asleep almost instantly, just after I heard Jasmine's settle into a steady pattern. I'm assuming it stayed that way, because she didn't say anything about nightmares the next day.
Or for the rest of the week, for that matter. We trained hard, the same routine every day. Rope pulling, jungle gym balance, pull-ups, chin-ups, and track practice that was really just forcing yourself to stay at a sprint for the whole half an hour. All of that was followed by a hand-to-hand practice that Jasmine always won, but it took longer for her to beat me every time. Then, we went down to the creek for a swim, cleaning our clothes each time we had a blast. I was always too tired for dinner, but Jasmine forced me to drink at least a glass of water before I crashed for the night.
My nightmares seemed to lighten in intensity a little, but I always had to clean my sheets in the morning. I tried talking through my own dreams, but even after I named off all my problems, breaking down twice, they still clung to my brain like a stubborn fog.
It wasn't until the next Tuesday that things started to get interesting. Jasmine and I were going to the Training Ring, as she called it, when she told me what we going to do for the day. "I think it's time you got yourself comfortable with a weapon."
I jumped up, silently landing. All my practicing on the jungle gym was helping my stealth, making me even more silent than ever before. And now, I was actually loosing weight and getting fit. I felt more energetic and it took longer and longer for me to get tired. Jasmine said I was a natural, I simply replied, "Of course I am." and we both grinned. The both of us were like sisters now, best friends, and it all happened in less than a week. I was happy with my new life, and barely even thought about the old world. Jasmine seemed more open and friendly with me, though she was still pretty dark and impatient with everyone else.
But somehow, she heard my jump. Her blindness enhanced her other senses, she'd told me, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. "Don't get too excited, I never said you'd be practicing for long. After we're done, we'll sort through the arsenal and figure out what you're good with."
I was somewhat bummed, but learned quick to be happy with whatever we were doing. Which ever activity we did, I was always getting better. Even simple push-ups were as exciting as rollercoasters for me now.
So we did our regular rope pulls, with one of the burly guys instead of Jasmine's light weight, about a hundred jungle gym curl ups, a fight that I almost won, and about forty-five minutes of track, once again struggling to keep up with Jasmine's forever-and-ever stamina. She was quick and fast and used that to her advantage, as you'd find out if you ever fought her. She made sure I jumped around on the jungle gym for a little while, playing tag with her and a dozen of the other kids. I started out being it, but after I tagged someone, niether Jasmine or I were caught. I was quickly rising up the ranking list, Jasmine's teachings making me better and better each day. Even Rancourt stopped by every once and in a while to see how I was doing.
After we did everything she had in mind, she took me to a door on the west side of the arena. We went through it and I practically passed out. There were walls, shelves, and cases lined and stocked full with weapons. Bows, swords, nun chucks, war hammers, tommahawks, throwing daggers, even staffs were in here. "Choose something for long distance first. We've got bows, throwing daggers, and ninja star things." Jazz told me, and I immediately went to look at the bows. A black one caught my eye and I took it off the wall.
"Nice choice. It's a plastic long bow, fires quiet and it's pretty accurate." She picked up a quiver, holding it up for me.
I took it, and she led us out to the section with the targets. Jasmine told the others to scram and we had the whole range for ourselves. She gave me my quiver and I shouldered it, reaching over my shoulder for an arrow. I notched, seeing how the arrow was held onto the string.
"You'll miss your first shot, but you'll get the hang of it." She told me, and she was right. My aim was off by yards, the arrow flying high of the target I wanted to hit. I grumbled, but notched another arrow. "Take your time aiming this time, Avira. The longer you wait, the better your aim will be."
So what do I do? I sat there and waited, steadying my breathing so the bow wouldn't be as shakey. My vision narrowed, zoning in on the bull's eye. I took a breath in and held it, allowing myself one more moment of waiting before letting my arrow loose. I still missed, but only by a little bit. Jasmine let me practice for a few hours, while she worked with a sword, and I was able to hit the target near the bull's eye by my training time was done.
"Learning how to use a weapon is not something you just get overnight. You'll have to keep working with it if you really want to be a pro." She told me, and I nodded. "I figured as much. But I really think I'll stick to archery, it feels right." I told her and she gave her approval.
Before we reached the house, I wanted to do something. "You think we could stop at the Library? Just so I can read up on this place for a little while? You never know, you might actually learn something yourself."
Jasmine smiled back at me and she shrugged. "What the hell, why not?" She redirected her path to the Library and I stuck by her side.
We went in and ignored the secretarian, being as stuck up as he ever was. I started looking through the guides, finally deciding on starting with the Dragons section. "Come on, over here." She followed me now, lost in a place where she felt as blind as ever. "I'll tell you what it says." I said simply, feeling her unease.
I pulled out a book called Mirdan Dragons and wandered over to the place I found Colt and Elder of Citrine, or so I've heard he's called, before. We sat down and I cracked the book open, and before I could even read a word, I realized Jasmine wasn't with me. I put my book down and got up, listening for any noise there. I heard a few words here and there and zoned in on them, following the voices. There I found Jasmine talking to my best friend ever. "Colt!" I cried, throwing my hands around him, hugging him. Jasmine could really see unless she was tapping, and I heard not a single tap whatsoever. Letting him go, I looked at him to see his hair was growing out, not jelled up into spikes like it usually was, and his shirt was actually laying loose on his body. He was fit, his biceps actually growing some muscle. I could see he was looking me over, too, and he was just as surprised as I was.
I was thinner, fitter, and my hair was actually growing out. I hated it. I was constantly thinking about cutting it, but I had no one to do it for me. Jasmine was blind and I hadn't heard of a barber around here yet. Maybe I'd just cut it myself, really short, there was no way I could mess it up.
"Fancy meetin' you here, eh?" I broke the silence.
He laughed, "Yeah, no kiddin'."
Jasmine cleared her throat, growing impatient. "Oh yeah, this is Jasmine. Jasmine, this is Constantine. I call him Colt though." I introduced her speedily, not exactly the best at formal stuff. I was too eager to talk to my brother anyway.
She nodded, "I noticed. And we already met, Avira. While you were picking out a book, I got... lost. Constantine here was just making a friendly conversation." Jasmine shrugged and I nodded. "Cool."
Colt looked at me, "What are you guys doing here?"
I shrugged, "Trying to brush up on our Mirdan history."
He smiled, "Dude, I can help you out big time. I've read practically every book in here." He waved for me to follow him, and I dragged Jasmine along with me. We ended up back at the stream, all three of us dangling our feet in the water as Colt explained everything to us. "You seen the dragons, right?"
I nodded and Jasmine replied, "In a way, I guess so."
"There are dragons here, everyone has one. They're all divided into four main types. Fire, water, air, and earth."
"So they're elemental." Jasmine blurted out, tapping the earth as she looked at Colt. I was still trying to grasp the reality of it. I still couldn't bleive I'd seen dragons, no matter how many times I passed them.
He nodded. "Each dragon has a person. The person is the dragon, the dragon in the person. Two different beings, one mind. the personality of the human decides their elements. Fire is assertive and passionate while water's cunning and rebellious. Air people and dragons are wise, but powerful. And their Earth beings? They're compassionate and peaceful, but a world of hell if they're brought out of their balanced nature."
Before he could say something else, I stopped him. "You sound just a bit too cryptic, it's creepin me out dude."
He grinned, "I know, it is pretty wierd. Just keep listening." Colt sat back, making himself a little more comforatble. "The thing is, each dragon, each person, has two elements, not just one. The first one is their primary, their base. The secondary can be anyone of the first four, even the same as the primary. It modifies the primary. Their looks, their personalities, they're powers, they get..." He seemed to struggle for a word.
"Altered?" Jasmine provided and Colt nodded, she was tapping away so I assume she saw that she saw him. I was trapped in his gaze, so excited to actually see dragons. To actually have one. It was awesome!
"True elemental dragons are rare. Like true, pure earth dragons. They aren't mixed with air or fire, so their sense of earth is so strong no other dragon could actually compete with it. Unless it was another pure dragon, of course. Oh, and by the way, elements and their opposites don't mix. A Fire-Water dragon is impossible. It contradicts itself. The cells in the body start to break down, try to seperate from each other. Eventually they end up breaking up and dies since inside it's at war with itself. So the human wouldn't even make it passed it's own birth."
"Where do they come from? The dragons?" Jasmine had no clue, but maybe Colt did.
He shrugged, to my dismay. "No one knows. they come here as eggs down this stream. You stand in the stream until an egg rolls down toward you. Then you take it and wait for it to hatch."
Jasmine looked up at Colt, "When are we allowed to get our own dragons?" She already knew the answer, but both her and I knew she was ready for her own egg. He blinked. "I don't know. Whenever the elders decide, I guess."
I snorted at that. "Elders. Let them try bossin' me around. I'll go tell 'em to shove it. Especially that Christian. He really bugs me."
"Me too." Jasmine said, her eyes on the water, her hand tapping away, as she rolled her shoulders.
With a puzzled look, Constantine adjusted himself. "What's wrong with Christian? He rub you guys the wrong way or what?"
I answered for the both of us. "He's just.... Creepy."
"Really?"
Jasmine nodded and I said, "To us, yeah."
He cracked a grin at both of us, but ended up staring at me as he said, "No problem. I wouldn't let Gramps mess with you guys." He flexed his biceps and I was tempted to feel them, just to see how much my big bro had been working out, to see who'd been working harder, me or him. Instead, I smiled. "Yeah, I can see that happening." I pushed him back, nudging Jasmine. "We could take you out in five seconds flat, right Jazz?"
She smiled at me, going along. "You kidding me? He would last one second, forget five. He'd be dead by five." All three of us laughed, and I felt my heart bloom. I was with my two best friends, Jazz and Colt. I didn't want this moment to end ever.
But, I wanted to have some fun. "Hey Jazz, you wanna see who's a better fighter?"
She went for the bait. "Actually, yeah, I do. You guys used to brawl when you were little?"
"All the time." Colt smiled.
"It's on like Donkey Kong." I had to giggle, standing up.
Jazz had us face each other and whistled to let us off. Colt came straight at me and I ducked out of the way, like Jazz taught me, and I jumped up and kicked him in the back as I turned around, sending him into a forward roll he easily came up from.
"I learned a few tricks." I said, smiling at him.
He aimed a punch at me and when I went to duck it, he punched me with his other fist, right in my belly. "So did I."
I was winded, but didn't let that stop me. I remember the weak spots Jasmine told me about and I kicked out my foot, swinging around in a crouch to trip him like a ninja would. He jumped up to dodge it and I went into a high kick, my toes knocking his chin up, clamping his jaws shut. He fell onto the ground and I pinned him as quick as I could. He was rubbing his chin. "I give, you're better." He wasn't much for mock fights, but I've seen him kick ass in real fights, back when I couldn't fight myself.
I helped him up and brushed the dirt off his back as he took care of his front, he did the same for me afterward. "You got good." I said, nodding in approval. "Likewise." I heard him say, as he finished brushing off my shoulder. Then we were shaking hands, for no real reason, just for the hell of it.
"I just wish it lasted longer." Jasmine sighed, and I was aware of her presence again.
I shrugged, "Can't make him fight, Jazz."
She responded with a "If only." that made me laugh hard enough. I looked up, to see the sun setting. I looked at my watch and saw that it was actually eight. "We gotta go. Meet you at the Library tomorrow at four?" I asked, hopeful of his yes.
"Four-thirty. Sharp. I'll have some notes for you guys." Colt replied, helping Jasmine from her seat by the bank. He slipped on his shoes after, and I gathered mine in my hand. "You betcha." I replied, "Ready Jasmine?"
She nodded and started to walk away, I nodded to Colt and followed her.

[Rain]

Chapter 18:
The Woman's Staff

The next morning I was estatic, and not because of my training. I'd be able to go hang out with Colt today, like in the old days. Except of course, we'd be hanging out in some creepy guy's library surrounded by books recording history and dragons with a blind girl who totally kicked ass instead of our usual Cat's Den. But hey, who said that has to spoil our fun?
I still had my egg, I noticed as I checked on it. It didn't move a bit, no crack or anything. And for that, my day reached ten points better. Truth be told, I didn't want a dragon. Sure, they were cool fighters and might actually help me, but I was too worried about becoming attached to it. Colt and Jasmine, I knew they could take anything thrown at them. A dragon? Maybe not. It'd have to be trained all over, just like I'd been. I'd have to teach it everything I knew. How to pick a lock, ducking and rolling, vantage points, weak points, good manuevers, strategies, even stealth. How was I going to find the time for that? Besides, if I became best buddies with a dragon, it'd just be one more thing someone could use for leverage over me.
Imagine this: I stole some really awesome, extremely expensive golden crown. (Not that I would want the crown or anything, but just go along with it.) The person who owns that crown isn't too happy and wants it back. Me, I won't give it back. So all of a sudden, my dragon ends up missing and a few days later I get a ransom note. It's just that easy. I'd be lured in and get killed or something. Then Colt would go into some depression, and Jasmine would. . . I'm not too sure what Jasmine what do. She'd probably spiral into her nightmares again, and she'd have to wait that much longer to finally be normal. That's even if someone decides to help her, anyway. I couldn't risk that.
So really, I guess I would just have to train, train, train and keep this lizard thing hidden until I decided it was ready, and Jasmine agreed.
Anyway, I woke up extra early and made some light breakfast. Toast and smoked salmon. Wash it all down with some mango-orange juice and you were golden until lunch time. Jasmine's slowly teaching me how to cook, but I'm usually taking up her patience so the lessons don't go very far. But gradually, I'm getting the hang of it.
We had a light brawl in the kitchen over who was getting the shower first, and naturally Jasmine won. When I hopped in fifteen minutes later, the water was running cold already. So I took a speedy wash and hopped out, getting my clothes on. I'd been wearing this outfit for a few days. They were clean, but I'd have to find something new quick. I was beginning to feel loose in them, as if I could go swimming in them. I'd ask Jazz about it later. That and the barber thing.
We both ran down to the Training Center, her leading and me easily keeping up now that my stamina was building. We warmed up with a few excercises on the jungle gym and went into a hand-to-hand combat session for the day in the pens. She wanted to teach me the importance of knowing your opponents next move and trying to instigate them into making the wrong move, then turning it around on them and making them look like complete newbie idiots. It was a brilliant strategy I'd never thought of, and when I asked her who taught her that, she said she'd made it up herself.
We were currently locked in a fierce fight. Here, check it out, it's intense:
I kicked out my leg, to catch her foot and trip her as I stood in my crouch, Jasmine still hanging onto my back with her arms wrapped around my throat. She lost her footing for a mere second, not enough time for me to do anything. So what do I do?
Both of us were groaning and grunting with strain, but I let out a growl as I did a forward roll, crushing her under my greater weight of muscle and age. She squealed and let go, slightly dazed. I went to pin her, but she kicked at my face before I could. I dodged it and grabbed her foot, flipping her over and bending her leg in an awkward angle to make her give in. She definitely let me know she was in pain, but she still wouldn't give.
Instead, I flopped my body over her back, keeping her face shoved into sand. After a second, she patted my hand lightly and I let her go. She was smiling as she came up, her eyes watery. Grit in her teeth as she looked up at me, "You beat me." I could tell by her voice Jasmine was amazed I'd done such a feat and gotten away with it without missing a limb.
"Yeah, go figure." I said, helping her up with my hand.
She brushed her clothes off, sand falling here and there unto the ground. I checked my watch. "Two-thirty. What's next boss?" She sighed and looked up into the sky, her foot tapping. "I wish I could see these skies. I hear they're beautiful, the cleanest in the world. But everything looks the same. Damn it all, I hate my eyes." She looked back down at her feet, only to look back up once more as she sat on the wooden board that formed part of the railing.
I sat next to her, my arm dangling over her shoulder. "It's nothin' special Jazz, just a bunch of blue with a few clouds here or there. It doesn't look any different than how you see it, trust me." I nudged her, in too good of a mood to let her blindness problems drag me down. Either she was gonna stay up with me, or get out of my way.
She shrugged, "Guess you're right. But still, it would be nice, to just once, justonce see a single cloud. A white one." Jasmine looked over at me, her heel tapping against the wood. For all the strength she had, she wasn't as tall as a fourteen-year-old should be. Maybe 5'1", if she was lucky. We were both hoping she'd find her growth spurt soon. "Wanna practice using a bow some more? I wanna see if you can hit a the target's bulls eye today."
I nodded, grinning. "You betcha, boss." I gave her a small salute with my finger and headed off to get my bow. I called it Air Shredder, Shredder for short. When Jasmine asked why, I simply said, "Cause it shreds through air like a grater through cheese."
I met her over near the archery range and started emptying my quiver. There were three rings on the target, and the bulls eye, of course. The outer, thickest ring was worth ten points. The middle ring was worth fifteen, and the one running around the bulls eye was twenty. The bulls eye itself was worth fifty. My highest was one hundred and thirty, with an hour of time to rack it up. Every shot I took was slow and accurate, each one patient and willing to wait. I wanted to get good before I got quick, and I made sure Jasmine knew that. She understood and let me go.
Her long range weapon of choice was actually javelins or blow darts. She was fast and pin-point accurate. She hit the bulls eye every time, infuriating me every time she did. I wanted to be just as good as her, if not better. She could beat me in everything else, but not with weapons. I had to win, had to overcome her.
About a half an hour in, I'd hit the ring outside the bulls eye six different times, and the middle one twice. I was breathing so quietly, deliberatly slowing them and holding my lungs at bay. I was slighlty light-headed, but my body was growing use to the effects to using the bow and arrow, so it was easing gradually.
I'd been knotching another arrow when Jasmine came up to me. "Why don't you try spreading your legs just a bit farther?"
The suggestion seemed odd, but I didn't question it. When your mentor suggested something, you did it. Especially when that mentor turned out to be Jasmine. Unless you actually want to loose a few fingers, then go ahead and say no.
I spread my knees a bit, angling my feet so that I felt comfortable in my new stance. I had been leaving my feet a little close, I guess. The ankle of left foot had been touching the toes of the right. So yeah, space felt pretty good.
I took my breath and held it, my vision narrowing as I let my gaze zone in on the bulls eye. It was wierd, but whenever I called on my eyes hard enough, it felt like they focused, closed in on my objective. It was cool, but still wierd. I was happy with my aim, and let the string loose. A millisecond later, Jasmine was clasping my shoulder in a proud pat. "That's it."
My arrow had thumped hard into the center of the bulls eye, still shaking from the force of it's velocity.
I was grinning ear to ear, "Just call me Robin Hood."
Jasmine glared at me, still smiling. "Don't get cocky, it was just one shot. You've still got a long way to go."

* * *

At the end of practice, we skipped the creek and went straight to the library. I got to lead, since I was beginning to know the regular places just as well as Jasmine. Of course, she was way better, but I was a better guide in a library than she was. We walked on into the library strolling right back in the corner, ignoring the librarian's stare. We sat there, sinking into the cushioned chairs of velvet red, when I actually took notice of Jasmine. She was tapping like Thumper from Bambi on the table, desperate to get any sort of sight she could. She was so blind in here, I felt a twinge of guilt for bringing her in here.
I put my palm over her tapping hand and she stopped. "It's okay Jazz. I got your back." The girl forced a smile back at me, blinking her blue eyes. I smiled back, knowing she wouldn't be able to see me. Man I loved this kid.
I let my hand up and she took a few moments to start her tapping again. She began again, but not as rapidly. It held a steady beat. Now she looked more bored than anything, when only seconds ago she looked like a crack addict waiting for her dealer, desperate for a fix. It was a nice switch, I realized, and I mentally took note to work with her on anxiousness levels.
She was finding her happy place, trying to be as serene as she could. I went back to when she would swing her sword around, as graceful and agile as the quickest jaguar, filled with purpose and strategy. She looked truly happy with her weapon of steel. The battle grounds was where she belonged, not some library.
But knowledge was power, and right now, we could use as much power as we could get. Jasmine knew this place like the back of her hand, but I knew it like my second cousin twice removed. And she really did hate it when I flooded her with questions, if I could even think of where to start. Colt could give the history and any other information I needed and I wouldn't really need to ask questions. That eliminates the loss of words, and the flooding. Two birds, one stone. How could it get any simpler?
I was lost in this world, and I needed to know about it. Not the just the good fun stuff, I needed to learn about the dark side. Every society had one. Even an Utopian place like this.
I loved fighting, but I was fed up with all the goody good shit of training and protecting Mirda, I'd had my fill of it all.
Jasmine was a good girl at heart, not a thief or thug like me. She was my new best friend, and I loved her, I really did, but she had no idea what kind of dark stuff I was into, who I really was, who she'd decided to befriend.
I was hoping Colt could tell me about all the places here, tell me what was what. Possibly even some current events and news if it could help me.
He knew me. He knew my dark side, my bloodlust and sticky fingers. He really didn't like it, but he'd help me if I swore not to do anything dangerous or stupid. Well, basically something I was to get caught in. And I kept my promises, always kept my word, because he could easily tell if I were lying. Besides, there wasn't much I couldn't escape now. I was a master thief and an expert brawler. Jasmine could vouch for me there.
We sat there for another six minutes or so, just waiting, when Colt finally strolled in from the outside world of Mirda.
"Bout time you showed up, Constantine." Jasmine said, as annoyed as I was.
He looked at her, "Sorry. I got held up for a few minutes."
Before it could erupt into something much bigger, I stopped it. Scuffed it out before the tiny flickers of fire could grow into flames of fury. "It's fine. We're here now, right?" My hopeful face cooled the other two out and Jasmine pulled over a stool that was used to step on and reach the higher books. Colt sat down and nodded his thanks to Jasmine. She was tapping, so I assume she saw.
He handed me some papers. Notes scribbled down in his neat preat, all on snow white paper that should be used for his sketching, not class notes for some drop out and her blind friend. "Everything about the codes and traditions around here. Even the laws are different."
Nodding, I sorted through the paper, only glancing at some of the ancient words. He pulled out a thick, black leather binded book and handed it to me. "And a manual for the dragons, everything you need to know about them. I put some more notes in the margins just for a little bonus."
I nodded, "Cool. This should help. Is there a map of Mirda somewhere?" A set of directions would be the cherry on my sundae right about now.
Colt thought for a second and my hopes went from high to dismal. "I guess I could dig one up somewhere. I'll give it to you tomorrow." I shrugged my answer and nodded. He smiled suddenly, and I lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "Wanna train with me for a lil' bit?"
"You kiddin'?" I was smiling from ear to ear, excitement lighting up my whole face. Of course I wanted to train! And with Colt around it'd be twice as fun. "Let's go!"
Jasmine jumped up and I led her to the entrance, her wrist in my hand, Colt leading the way out. Of course, she was highly anxious, really jumpy. I didn't blame her, but it made us leave that much quicker.
Colt led us, dodging back and forth through the thinned out crowd of people selling breads, fish, and even dairy products. He was by Jasmine, making small talk with her. I was smiling, happy that his was trying to be an actual friend rather than a friend of a friend. It was nice and I was proud of his efforts, and the fact that Jasmine was finally killing her mean streak.
"Guess what." I caught those words from Colt as I kept my glance jumping from spot to spot.
"What?" She didn't know the lame joke.
"Chicken butt." The both of them laughed lightly, Jasmine a little harder since it was foreign to her.
I smiled, but.... something seemed wierd. I opened my ears, listening in the distance. I heard.... rumbling. Leaves were shifting far too much for it to be human, and too fast for a common dragon.
I stopped in my tracks. "Hey Jazz?" She was the pro fighter and veteran of this world, she knew danger better than anyone. She looked back at me. "Yeah?"
"You hear that?"
She looked at me in confusion, blue eyes swimming with worry. "Hear what, Avira?"
"That.... noise." I looked over at the woods. The noise came closer and I felt the hair on my neck rise as I heard one breath intake far too fast to be common breathing. It was the kind of breath you took before you... jumped.
I tackled Colt and Jasmine to the ground, the same moment a huge wind flooded over us. Fierce claws dug into my back and I cried out, hearing a falcon cry in reply.
I looked up to see what had attacked us only to see a....
"Griffins!" Jasmine cried out, jumping up and running to the arsenal as people scattered. Kids came flowing out of the Training Area and men and woman alike erupted from buildings, bellowing their cries of battle with weapons at hand.
Colt and I stood, and the beast whipped it's steel bladed tail at us, practically ripping off Colt's head if I didn't push him down. My mind went back into place as I met the eyes of the warrior upon the bird creature.
No one threatens my best friend. No one but me. That guy was really asking for it when he decided his griffin was going to swing its tail at him.
I leaped up, the wings providing an excellent place to land. It's feathers were good to cling to and I was on it's back in an instant, lunging at the man.
He cried out as I landed on him, my knee shoved into his stomach, arm pressed hard against his throat. "You gotta problem, pal?" I growled at him, feeling bloodlust buzz in my veins.
At that moment, the griffin took off, and in a flurry brown, black, and white fur and wing feathers, I was clutching to the beast for dear life, desperate not to fall off.
We were now at least hundreds of feet in the air, and still inclining at speeds I thought unimaginable. The man turned back to face me, his face a sneer. "Yeah, I gotta problem. Pal." The man punched me hard in my jaw and I was pushed off the bird, falling into the sky with a fierce pain on my face as the air pushed all the oxygen from my lungs. I couldn't even manage a scream as I fell to my death. I stared down at the ground, the earth coming torward me far too fast to be considered safe.
Herds of the griffins were there to attack, and so many dragons were unleashed. I'd never seen the types down there, graceful and deadly while others were bulky and brash.
In a sudden moment, the air was knocked out of my lungs again, and I was atop a lustrous silver dragon.
"Get your game face on!" I looked up to meet Mallory's friendly face turned into a warrior's snarl. "You'll need it!"
I forced myself up, standing up on the beast's broad shoulders. She dived and bellow her war cry as her dragon's belly practically skimmed over the sandy clearing. I jumped off and landed with only two strides to level myself out.
Battle time.
I charged into the first person I saw, a woman carring a large wooden stick, swinging about the crowd of three junior kids I recognized from the Training Arena. It looked as if anyone with a dragon was up in the air and the kids were left to defend the lands. Easy enough, right?
I burst through the trio's defences and got whacked in the face with oak.
She laughed, deflecting a blade while kicking a kid behind her.
I went at her again, dodging the quick swing of her staff that would've clipped my temple and killed me. I sent a hard kick at her palm, releasing her weapon. I'd hit her jaw and caught her weapon in an instant, putting a hard fist in her stomach before swing the wood across her heels, tripping her. She fell and I had her pinned.
Before I could do anything else, her eyes fell shut and she ceased to breathe, a small trail of scarlet falling from the corner of her slightly agape mouth.
I looked up in horror to see kids upon a fallen griffin. One had shoved his sword into it's chest, in the direct spot that would have been the heart's spot in a human's body.
Fight to kill. That's what these people were taught.
I shook off my horror and went to invader after invader, each dying before I could force their surrender. The kids were screaming their triumph and I was still trying to throw the feeling that something was wrong with this picture.
And then, I was on the ground. A vicous looking man glared at me, a menacing sneer on his face. He had a massive blade on my throat as he crouched over me, and I felt so alone. "Say bye bye, little bitch." His voice reminded me of the sailor I'd dreamed of, and a fury raced through me. Made me growl as adrenaline pushed through my bloodstream. He pulled back his arm, about to slit my throat.
"Not a chance." I snarled at him, elbowing him in the temple as hard as I could with my right arm. He'd never held down my arms, it left him open for a hit. He slumped over dead and I had to push him off me to rise to my steady feet.
I felt rage fire through my belly and I cried out, my heart racing as I scanned my horizon for another opponent. That's when I realized there was no bird creatures towering above anyone. No kids screaming their bloodlust, no invaders whipping their swords around, no one. They were all gone.
I breated in hard, trying to ease my buzzing mind to halt. I looked around at the empty square, only dead bodies of griffins and human alike, even some kids littered the sandy earth.
"Avira!" Jasmine was at the Library's entrance, her head peeking out of the doorway. "Get in here!"
I started running at her, my body already used to obeying her every command without question. At that moment, a fiery explosion erupted in my shoulder and I fell, Jasmine crying out. "No!"
I fell on my side, the world getting dizzy as I stared up at the sky of winged creatures in the fierce heat of battle.
Everything went dark.

[Rain]

Chapter 19:
Tree Squirrels

A beast. Almost black. In the dim light of darkness, the moon shone along its lustrous skin. No scales, I noticed. When it shined, a deep blue came out instead of the normal white. It was a blue so deep it looked black. It's pendant, the gem as deep in color as it was, shone angrily.

Fear The Black Medallion.

I back away, one tentative step at a time. The beast brought out its wings, the under wing a dark silver, taking one step. It was making its offense. They were massive, huge. Wide and powerful looking. It took another step, its steps silent upon the sticky mud. It's black claws glinted silver in the moonlight, and I felt skittish. There was nothing I could do to this thing, no way I could defeat this beast. My mind already made itself up. Don't surrender, just know there's no escape.
It's sleek body rippled with strength, its long, powerful limbs working as a team to pin me down. It leaped, the wide wings carrying it silently to me, taking me down in one swift movement. I lied on the cold, damp mud, my shirt probably ruined. It stared into my gaze, its fangs long and dangerous. "Avira...." It hissed, without moving it's mouth. It was as if my mind had thought it up, I wasn't even sure it really did say something. Silver eyes stared into mine, and I didn't dare take my eyes off the glistening color of them. I was drawn to them, forced to stare. As I started to grow unafraid of them, I saw...... Me.
And then, the fangs came. Quick as lightning without the loud noise, the sharp teeth bite through my skin, making me cry out in pain, in horror at my own death, at dying like a coward.

I sat up, my heart pounding fiercely, my neck still on fire from the fangs and their deadly entrance. I was gasping and my sheets were drenched again. My chest exploded in flames of pain and I cried out, my good arm instantly on my shoulder.
"Easy, Vixen." Colt laid me back down, his hand running through my drenched hair in a slow, gentle movement. My heart eased a little.
I was still gasping for air when he took my hand. "Nightmares again?"
I nodded, silent tears slipping down my cheek. "Ever since I got here, they're all so real. I can still feel the pain when I wake up." I doubled over, hugging myself pathetically He hugged me instead, embracing my fears. "I can even remember what happens." I whispered. "They never go away." My tears had slowed, and I forced them to stop, suddenly realizing what I was doing.
Avira O'Reily doesn't cry, I reminded myself, sitting up, rubbing my cheeks off, removing all the sweat and tears. The splitting pain in my shoulder made me suck in air through my teeth, pulling away from Colt. He sat back on my bed, regardless of the sweat-drenched covers of white, sitting upon the white bed, in the room of white. Once again, I realized I was in the ICU.
Laying back in the bed, I sighed as deep as I could.
"How do you feel?"
"About as good as it gets when you wake up from blacking out." I replied, not opening my eyes.
"You're really lucky, Vixen."
"Oh yeah? Did I win the lotto?" My smile didn't make him chuckle. My eyes opened and I looked at him.
"Someone shot you with an arrow. Two centimeters above your heart, Avi. You should be dead."
I rubbed my throat gingerly, my heart stopping for a beat. "Boy." I couldn't think of what to say next.
But he continued, regardless of my pause. "I really thought you were gone. Your heart actually stopped for three whole minutes. People don't just wake up from those kind of things." He smiled to himself, staring down at his palms. "But you did. God, you flipped out. They had to sedate you to get that arrow out. You knocked out one of the surgeons."
I laughed at that. A sedative. That explained the way I was swinging my mood up and down like a slide whistle. One minute crying, the next laughing like a circus monkey. He looked up, his hand on my calf as he turned his body to face me. His bright emerald eyes were on mine, his face smiling softly in fear while mine sensed discomfort. Break up the tension, shall we? "Did we win?"
Colt sighed, smiling. "Yeah, we won."
"What were those things anyway? Where did they come from." I knew they weren't griffins, they couldn't be griffins.
"Griffins, from a place called Tal-kin. Or at least, that's what I'm told."
"Griffins? You mean the myth griffins?"
He only grinned at me, "So were dragons, remember?" Touche.
So I dropped all the questions in my mind for threat of being made a fool, and the slight thrum within my brain warning me of an overdose in knowledge. "I'm gonna try to get up." I said, smiling at nothing as I set my mind instead to the strain of physical exertion.
Colt's hand held my moving leg still, stern against my straining sinew. "Not yet, Avi. Doc said at least three days."
I frowned, somewhat annoyed. He wanted to play that game? I was rather good at it. "Yeah? How long he say I'd take to wake up?"
The boy's sheepish face said it all, folks. "Five days."
I prodded only a bit, a winning smile playing on my face. "And how long have I been here, Buddy Boy?"
Now he frowned, in bitter defeat. "About sixteen hours."
I sighed, pushing myself up. "I rest my case."
As I sat up within the snow-white covers, I found I didn't have a gown. Only a thick layer of bandages over my chest gave me any sort of clothing. I had nothing but blanket over my legs. My face flushed visibly and I looked at Colt. "Constantine?"
He was standing up, hands extended to help up, only to recoil as he met my incredibly nervous eyes. He became wary and a bit jumpy, put on edge. "Yeah?"
A huge lump caught in my throat. I felt my face turn to flames and I thought I was getting just a little sweaty. How do you ask your best friend this? When he's a 'he' and you're a 'she'? God was I embarrassed, to say the very, very least.
I swallowed my current fears and spoke up, my voice broken. "Can I borrow your pants?"
His whole face went as red as a beet as he took off his jeans, stripped into his Mario & Luigi boxers. I took them from him and he turned around, fiddling his hands nervously.
My nerves made me practically jump into them, holding my waist so the loose jeans didn't fall. Now that would be embarrassing, no?
"Thanks," I happened to mutter, taking a ginger step toward the door, my dizzy head barely able to keep my body's balance. I started tipping over like a drunk-man, and gravity was more than willing to take me.
A hand grabbed my arm and Colt draped it over his shoulders, helping me walk like when my ankle broke. Only now he was careful not to touch my wounded shoulder.
I wasn't in my loose black T-Shirt and baggy cargo pants anymore, and it made me feel so uncomfortable to walk around with Colt in a bandage and over-sized jeans. I felt like I was walking around in the Sahara, all outta water.
"Where to?" His skittish voice showed he felt the same way, and in some small manner, sent me a wave of relief.
"The complex next to the library, top floor, good sir." I tried to smile and joke, lessen up the intensity of the feeling we were unfortunately sharing. It didn't have much of an effect.
We got out of the hospital of blazing white and made it up to the complex without being trampled by the few, but thick, crowds or possibly man-eating, over-sized, fire-breathing lizards in the town square. I even brought Colt into our kitchen, rather than risk passing out. We found Jasmine sitting there, chin on clenched hands, pink puffy eyes, looking serious and worried.
"Lighten up, will ya?" I smiled at her, and she jumped to life.
She practically leaped at me like a wildcat on prey and Colt released me just in time so I could wrap my arms around my adopted little sister, only wincing once in pain as she grasped my shoulder in a tight embrace. "Hey Jazz." I said, laughing.
My clothes were on the chair, all nice and clean, folded neatly. When I went to pick them up, I frowned at the hole now in my shirt.
"Elder of Sapphire told me she can get some more clothes for you. She said she knows your style?"
I frowned, confused and annoyed with the thought of Elders. She knew my style? Hardly. "Whatever." I took my old outfit and changed in the bathroom, Jasmine helping me stay up. A huge effort of it went toward changing all my upper clothes. Jasmine had to help once or twice and I was out in less than ten minutes. Give or take some.
Colt was at the table, stuffing himself with whatever leftovers we had.
"Yeah, don't worry. You can have some. No problem, I mean jeez, it's the least we can do." I glared at him, grinning wickedly, Jasmine holding me up.
He just smiled back with his stupid, sheepish face, mouth full to capacity. "Thanks buddy."
Jasmine sat me down into a seat. Walking was so hard, and I already felt drained. Colt must have practically carried me over, I realized. I was nothing but a dead weight now. How long would it last?
"Are you hungry?"
I shook my head. "Sorry Jazz, I couldn't handle even a glass of water."
"That's too bad then," Colt was at the sink, filling one of our glasses to near over-flowing. "Because you're drinking this whether you want to or not."
I groaned as he glared at me, every bit as serious as he was posing. Why the need to be so forceful? But he was right. Again. After nearly dying, my body was drained of all energy. Hydration was priority number Uno.
He put the glass to my lips and I sighed as I held it with my good arm. Almost dropping it as he let me hold it, I sipped at the water. I ended up aiming to swig it all down and get it over with rather than taking little baby sips. I instantly regretted it, my stomach replying in a wave of pain.
"Slowly. You'll just puke it up if you drink it like that."
He just had to be a doctor, right? Why did Karma have to hate me?
I slowed myself down and took only a few sips.
"How do you feel?" Jasmine was still standing right next to me. Her voice was mother-like, gentle and worried at the same time, each opposing feeling trying to take over the other.
I felt overpowered. "Guys, I feel fine. There's no need to watch me like a frickin' hawk, alright? Sit down, please." I urged the two of the nut cases, using my hands as signals with open palms, gesturing down.
My nerves were loosing it, telling me I was way too crowded. All the questions, worries. It was chaotic and my brain just wasn't ready for it. And besides, my paranoia just wasn't helping. They needed to chill out or leave. Either that or I was going to collapse dead again. I highly doubted I'd have the strength to get my heart beating again.
"Chill out, Vixen. We're just making sure, okay?"
"Vixen?" I forgot Jasmine had never heard my strange nicknames. She'd never actually hung out with Colt.
I nodded, frowning as my head bobbed. "A nickname. I call him Colt and he calls me Vixen. It's just the way it is, I guess." I shrugged. I looked at Jasmine, "You want a fun lil' nickname, too?" My sarcasm and annoyance levels hadn't been affected, I noticed suddenly.
She shook her head, ignoring it. "No, I was just asking. Why Colt?"
"When we were little, this foal went nuts and he tackled it before it crushed my skull. I called him Colt ever since." I shrugged, regretting the movement immediately after. I winced, but stifled most of it, thankfully.
"Fair enough. Why Vixen?" She was tapping away, eyes locked with Colt.
"Yeah. . ." I began, at first curious of his reply, but then I actually wondered. For all those years he'd called me that and I really had no idea why. "Why Vixen?" I asked.
"Why not Fox or something stupid like that?" Jasmine pressed.
He sharpened his gaze and Jasmine's posture got more offensive. "Why Colt? Why not Foal or something stupid like that?"
My good elbow was on the table, leaning forward, getting more and more annoyed. I was slowly closing in the distance between us so I could smack him silly and enjoy a well-earned chuckle or two. "You were a kid. And do you think maybe the fact that you were a dude had some influence on the 'Colt' part?"
"So why Vixen?" Jasmine really wanted to know. Why the hell should she care, though? It's not like she actually had any say on it. The conversation would finish and Colt and I would continue going "Hey Vixen." or "Sup Colt." Nothing would change, life would move on.
Fed up with all the bull, my best bud jumped to his feet, gears set hard on 'Defense Mode'. "Because it just clicked, okay? Anything else you wanna point out?" He growled at her, his voice dark and strained.
I lowered my hand in a calm gesture before Jasmine could unleash her fury. She was already in the beginning of a fierce snarl. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, guys. It's just a name. Doesn't mean nothin'." My voice was quiet and calm, eager to spread its gentle nature through a verbal manner. I was really trying to cool them down, chill them out before I was picking them up off the floor, bloody and passed out.
"Just sit." I said to Colt, my gray eyes wary, body and nerves alike on edge. He did, without meeting my gaze. The table seemed to be the object of his attention as his face was forever red. We sat in tight-in-tension, uncomfortable silence. Not the type I preferred.
"Can we go to the stream?"
Colt looked at me as if I had three heads. "You're kidding, right?" He actually had the nerve to snort. "You just got up from dying and you wanna go take a frickin' dip? Am I missing something here?"
Jasmine stepped up to my defense and I felt a burst of pride in my heart. I had two kids willing to die for me. One to make sure I didn't knock myself out, and the other to teach me how to pick myself up after I healed from knocking myself out.
"A shower. At least grant her that." Her face was a tight snarl, a growl of a venomous creature about to pounce unto it's weakened prey. Her blue eyes were narrowed into a fierce, hard glare of azure at Colt.
"Watch her and she can." He replied simply, dismissing the debate with a simple wave of his hand.
I sighed, "Fair enough, I suppose. Jazz, you mind?"
She grinned at me, wicked and mischievous. "Not as much as I should."

Within five minutes I was out of my clean clothes and into the freezing water, my bliss.
It was cool and gentle, flowing over my shoulder like a soothing blanket. It was the best feeling I could ask for, especially with the fiery pain in my injured shoulder. Glancing at the deep gash, I found it was still hollow flesh, all sorts of pink, yellow, and red colors. It'd take some time to heal, to say the least. The stitches still kept me together, still mocked me as I hated the feeling of extra-clean string sowed into my skin.
I'd take them out tomorrow or the day after.
I relaxed and leaned against the shower wall, letting the water wash over my skin. I was already sparkling clean from the wonderful care at the hospital in the ICU, but I still felt a closure of cleansing hospital treatment could never, and would never, bring.
Unfortunately, after only fifteen minutes of practically falling asleep in easing pleasure that had me purring like a kitten, Jasmine grew impatient. What else should I figure? She was only patient with my training. Jazz didn't give a damn of my hygiene. "Time's up, get out."
She refused to tap anything, so I tap anything, so I was somewhat relieved of my tension. "Fine." I sighed, shutting the waterline off and getting out.
When I was finally dressed, I noticed my hair was already at the top of my shoulders. I sighed, desperate for a haircut, and walked out with Jasmine as my human crutch.
A shuffle in our room and Jasmine practically dropped me on a chair, jumping to see what the noise was. Who was I kidding? She already knew what it was.
"Whoa!" A huge thump told me Jasmine had just tackled my brother.
"What are you doin?" She snarled at him, viciously spewing out words like acid.
"I could ask you the same!" ....Not a good choice of words with Jasmine.
"Oww!" A hard slap, an unusually loud thunk. Man, that had to hurt.
They both got up and Jasmine led him out, her palms squeezing tight around his sleeping nerves, ready to do her magic whenever she deemed necessary. Hades, her rat, was on her shoulder, bristling from top to bottom. Furious and outraged, I'm guessing Jasmine was pissed at Colt for daring to touch her rat. He barely even knew the girl, he shouldn't have messed with Hades. I knew her like the back of my hand and never gathered enough courage to investigate her pet. It just didn't seem worth the pain she would offer.
Jasmine pushed him, Spartan kicking him in the lower back, not quite his ass. He went sprawling, his footing rushed as he went for a chair. He sat down with little grace to call his own and gasped, his eyes desperate on mine. "I gotta talk to you, Avira."
"I'm all ears, Buddy Boy." I spread my palms open, inviting his words to meet my ears with brighter clarity than a sparkling diamond in the blazing sun. I leaned back in the chair, my feet hooked on the table's lip, keeping my body from gravity's grip.
"I need her gone." He ducked his head quick at Jazz, and she snarled from across the room, hard sinew spiking up from beneath her mocha skin. She bristled, "I stay here, asshole." So much for her opening up.
He pleaded silently with his emerald gaze, the Spanish girl beside him unable to comprehend the amount of feeling his was attempting to give. My heart practically ached. My big brother, needed me. Needed my help personally. I couldn't say no. Couldn't and wouldn't. Not to him, never.
"Just for a few minutes Jazz, I'll scream if anything goes wrong." I smiled at her, suppressing the laughter that threatened to come up at the last part of my little request. It wasn't that big of a deal. It's not like he was out to kill me or anything.
She looked at me in stiff disbelief, as if I'd betrayed her for him. As if I'd traded gold for a scratched CD of Back Street Boys. I kept my smile, but it weakened to just above a mere line of grim lips pressed together in fierce tension. She might kill me. I wasn't joking either.
Her foot tapped away, and she took in the fact that I was as serious as she was pissed. "I'll be at the Training Area."
What a Work-A-Holic.
She was gone with a flash of fury and Colt stared at his hands like a nervous Pothead taking a drug test. "There's something I haven't told you. Something not in the notes." He didn't look up. My pulse sped up a little.
"Don't hold out on me man, I've had enough surprises to last me a lifetime." God,wasn't that the truth, eh?
"Guardians." He spluttered grimly, his voice sullen and thick. His words were like from a completely different person, someone I didn't recognize. He wasn't in the mood for jokes, I suppose.
"What?" I don't think my genius IQ was helping.
"There's these. . ." His pause was making me more and more anxious, my nerves warning me to be wary. Just in case. "Things. Guardians. Everyone, every kid in Mirda has one."
I blinked, puzzled. "And they. . . guard, I'm guessing?"
He nodded, not acknowledging the blank feeling I was getting. "They're animals, Vera." That name was new. "Rabbits, turtles, cats, dogs. Common pets, anything. They watch over us, keep us safe from harm."
My hand found my throat. My mind finally clicked. I knew what he was saying, who Colt was speaking of. My heart skipped a beat, very literally.
"Molly."
He nodded and my eyebrows furrowed. But then. . . "Fawn?"
Another nod, mixed within a troubled sigh. "They have to be here, with us. Fawn's still at the barn. But Molly, she's. . ."
Colt's head starting going up, and his gaze rose to meet mine, but I was already gone.
Adrenaline fed me endless strength, energy that buzzed in my veins, numbed all my pain. I charged through the empty crowds of maybe three or four people at a time and crashed into the woods. I turned to see if anything was following, but I found human and dragon alike ignored my existence.
I ducked further into the woods, my legs bound toward the unknown. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't care. I didn't want to stop, didn't want to go back. I didn't even want to think, so I kept my mind on stealth. The best places to step, to jump, crouch, slip through. Even the best paths seemed to light up with a bright luminosity. Staying away from any and ever noise, causing none of my own, I felt like the wind over and open plain. Silent and swift.
I didn't stop a moment until I found the biggest tree I'd ever laid eyes on. It's branches seemed to call me, its green leaves urging my muscles to join them.
Without a single hesitation, I jumped up to the bark, digging my fingers into the rough bark. The numbing pain gave me something to focus on, a clarity to hope for. It cleared my head.
Before I realized it, I was hundreds, possibly thousands, of feet in the air, at the top of the giant Redwood. The very top limb supported my slim weight easily, as long as I didn't move around too much.
And finally, what seemed like only three seconds, I thought about what happened. I had to. Can't ignore it forever, stupid.
Molly, my guardian. I had to laugh at that. That fluffy, oversized fuzzball was my protector. How comical. She couldn't hurt nothing but the mice she ate.
And I had to get her.
Damn it all.
I wouldn't go. No one could make me go back to my old world. Back to my tramping mother, my ignorant father and his bratty sons. Back to my run-down shack of a home, to revisit my nightmares, in my dreams and out. To once again conquer Derrell, and possibly Mr. Roy, if it ever came to an encounter with the fat slob.
Definitely my mother. My brand new enemy, my number one nemesis.
No. I'd never do it.
Instead, I stared into my new world, absorbing the sights. From here, I could both hear and see the waterfall, the watery deathbed of the old Colt Jones and Avira O'Reily. A huge stone ledge jutted out the fall of rock to form a massive step. A drop of one hundred and fifty feet onto rock like that should have killed us on impact. How did we survive?
I closed my eyes to relive those terrifying seconds, but found no explanation. I only remember wind and water in my ears, darkness shrouding my eyes as my mind shut down with a violent buzz, like a jolt of a million watts going through me.
Trees surrounded me for miles, massive mountains of pines and maples circling the entire land. I was in a valley, but at the north it looked like it opened up into a plain, just beside the killer falls.
After staring at the golden fields, I decided to ignore it all. Leave it all while I could. I leaned back on my perch and gave a huge sigh, letting all the worry out of my lungs and mind. I had to clear my head out before I ended up breaking down right here in this tree. My gaze rose to the skies, wandering the sun's domain.
I remembered my nightmare, where I flew through the nightly heavens, racing through the stars toward the bright and beautiful moon. How happy I felt then, within the crisp chills of the winds, flowing in and out of the watery clouds.
Funny thing, the night. I've always hated the sun, the bright colors of the sky. I'd rather dwell in the midnight rays of the darkest blues and purples, washed throughly in a thick blanket silver. Your eyes can't see that kind of beauty beneath the cover of the sun.
Night was my heaven.
That's when my ears heard it. A branch creak, a few ruffling leaves. A boot scuffed the old bark and I already knew who it was, whose feet made those strained steps.
Betcha you know too.
He sat beside me, on a branch to close to mine our knees touched lightly as he put his face in his palms, not looking up. He almost looked defeated. His breathing already steadying, his strong muscles easing their tension.
I didn't even glance at him, I didn't dare to. My ears picked up everything needed to hear. I was too afraid I'd burst into tears like a water balloon filled far past its capacity.
"How did you find me?"
A shrug answered, the roll of broad shoulder blades sounded within my eardrums. "You're afraid of heights."
I looked down at him, keeping my sorrow at bay. "So how did you know I'd be in this tree?"
He was smart, but he wasn't physic.
Yet another shrug followed, "This is the tallest tree I could find."
I sighed and leaned back again. He still didn't look at me, and I was far more than happy with that. He knew me too well. All my fears, my weaknesses, everything. What if he turned on me? How would I beat him? We were too evenly matched. I knew his strength, his fears, and he knew mine just as well.
We sat there in deep silence, listening to nothing but the soft breezes within our ears, and the rustles of leaves in reply.
"So what are you going to do?"
His voice was quiet, gentle. Calm. I hated it, so very, very much. With a deep passion that ran through my blood.
I had to answer.
"Even if she's just a cat, she's my cat." I looked down at my knees, the blackness of my clothing easing my eyes shut. "I'll go and take on the whole world if I have to. Face my fears, once and for all."
I felt his hand slide over mine, his warmth radiating my hand, easing its way up my arm like warm rain rolling up my skin, defying gravity.
Looking up, my gaze found Colt smiling ever so gently at me, raising a single finger to brush away a tear I didn't know existed from my cheek. I felt the slightest of touches, gentle. "Not alone."
In that short moment, I smiled back and tried to crack a joke, but his lips stopped my mouth from pronouncing any such syllables. I had an immediate wave of severe amnesia.
My senses boiled over and my brain was racing far too fast. I heard the birds chirping, the gentle wind caressing our faces, drying the tear that had streaked down my cheek, heard his heart pounding along with mine, beat for beat.
I saw his skin with insane clarity, soft and smooth. The sun was far too bright, it made me close my eyes before they burned away.
His scent, strong, yet soft and clean, overpowered the fresh air around it.
And I loved it.
His fingertips found my side, easing themselves gently, just below my ribs. I practically gasped at his touch, and he pressed his lips harder against mine, urging them to work.
Our kiss flelt surprisingly natural, as if I were born to do so. He tasted amazing, and I dwelled on that fact again and again in those few seconds.
Before my mind really got its grip, I realized I was actually kissing him back, my tongue practically down his throat. If any romantic were to pop up, they'd be going "Awwww....." over, and over, and over again, holding a box of Kleenex close as they flood the ground with their pathetic tears.
My heart stopped for less than a second and I jumped up, pushing him away. I had forgotten the fact that we were hundreds of feet in the air, dangling about on a branch less than an inch thick.
His startled green eyes found mine and I pulled him close before he could fall to his death.
That's when I heard the crack.
My branch snapped in two and I ended up in a nosedive toward earth. Everything passed by in a blur and I couldn't see a thing.
I closed my eyes and let myself fall. My brain practically bit me in reply, its stubborn personality prohibiting any sort of surrender in my spiral to death. My eyes opened to see a branch within reach, and my hands wrapped hard around it in an instant.
I swung around it like I did the jungle gym, during my training in the Arena. My palms burned as fiercely as the adrenaline in my bloodstream.
Now, naturally, the weight of me and the force of my impact would branch like a fat guy sitting on a toothpick. And not even I could defy physics.
The branch snapped in two and I swung up into the air to land on another right beside it in a way-too-graceful arc, crouching as I landed from my ninja maneuver.
"How the fuck did I do that?" I yelled, freaked out beyond belief. It was amazing, and I felt so powerful, but I was shocked, in utter loss.
"Avira!"
I looked up, still gasping, to see Colt hopping from perch to perch like a ninja himself, a master of martial arts, making his way down the tree toward me.
His voice sent chills down my spine, my lips still buzzing. I became unnerved to say the least. Everything had turned awkward, and I acted as I would toward a stranger. Because really, Colt was unpredictable. A stranger.
"What?"
"Where are you?" You okay?" He was frantic, his voice jumpy and speedy like the Roadrunner.
"Outta here!" I replied, hopping down as fast as I could manage, Jasmine's training fueling my limbs with fierce power and clever tricks that would make a lemur jealous.
I hit the floor, and took one brief breath before I went to start my sprint.
A thud hit the ground and Colt was standing over me, breathless. "Wait." He was calm, eyes level. "Please." But I could easily sense his panic, running through my blood, coursing in my own veins.
"Are you okay?" He asked, emerald eyes bright with worry and desperation.
I gestured to myself, still gasping. "Do I look okay?" I said at last, with a pause.
He looked down at my hands. "No, not really."
Confusion rising in my brian, I looked down to see my hands in some serious damage. Fingers broken, bones snapped into impossible angles. The skin chaffed off by the swing, and they were already swollen. Overall, they moved awkwardly.
"What the-"
Colt cut my words off, taking my right hand gingerly. I couldn't feel a thing. Adrenaline had made any pain a numb, cold sensation. "Stay still."
I didn't dare breathe, but when he pulled on every one of my four fingers, all at once, I screamed with pain as loud as my lungs would allow. It seared all the through my arm and into my shoulder blades. I kept my eyes clamped as he kept my hand in his grasp, making it impossible to back away.
He sent another enormous wave of agony through my other hand, and then it was over. He was rubbing my fingers, sending only vivid waves of electricity through my body.
I wiped my eyes with my wrists to dry tears that were there, and struggled for my breath.
He rubbed my back as he eased me into a sitting position. I was sitting on my ass, completely lost in thoughts. Only problem was, I wasn't thinking. There were no thoughts.
His hand was on my back, rubbing wave after wave of buzzing relief into my suddenly tired limbs. I finally released a sigh, giving into the sensation, my breathing steadied.
Constantine chuckled and I looked at him with nervous innocence. Surprisingly, I didn't feel so dark, so sarcastic or pessimistic. I felt like a normal teenage girl. Besides the fact that I had my own dragon, on its way to hatching into a possibly terrifying, man-eating beast, anyway.
"Hell of a first kiss, huh?" I said, feeling jittery.
But then, I suddenly found myself looking down in shame, thinking about how demonic I could be, what actions had been done in the past. How could I possible do it? No wonder I couldn't sleep at night. My guilt must be smacking my head left and right.
Gentle fingertips touched under my chin, pulling my head up slowly, and my eyes eased open. I felt myself blush as he smiled at me.
He leaned forward and I was trapped in his embrace, his arms wrapping around me as we held each other. I loved the warmth.
"There's always a second chance." He was looking at me, his warm gaze looking at me with the bright glint it always had. Only now I realized it was love.
He let go and kissed me, gently, as simple a pucker as you'd give your mom. But it was so much more, he lit linger and refused to back away.
I felt my heart pound and my breathing ceased. My mouth started moving, kissing back gently at first, but moving into a passionate rush of romance.
His hand was on my cheek, firm, yet gentle. I started leaning back, easing onto the ground, fierce pound of lust rising into my veins. It heated my blood hotter than any adrenaline possibly could, burning like crude acid in my bloodstream.
Colt simply followed me like a hound on a short leash, never leaving my lips once. We were both lost in a joint feeling of. . . something strong, and we couldn't fight it. I didn't want to. I wanted to bask in it forever.
He was slowly slipping off his coat, his hands leaving my sides, and I was helping him. In fact, I was rushing him. I practically ripped his coat off, and he actually chuckled, and I smiled with him. Both laugh and smile were gone in another flurry of rushed kisses.
Finally it clicked, and I was squirming away from him, detaching my lips from his.
He sat up, confused emerald eyes on mine.
"I can't do this," I breathed, my head fell. I got up, every inch of my being begging to stop moving, to stay by him, to be in his embrace.
But I couldn't. He was my best friend. And kids? No way. Love was not for me, it always ended up turning sour. And I loved him too much to ever allow hate into the situation.
"But. . . " His voice trailed off. He took my hand in his as he stood up. "I love you, Avira."
I took my hand away, standing up. He moved with me, a mere twelve inches away from my being. "I love you, too." My heart pounding in anger. What was I doing? I should be with this guy. He was meant for me.
But I put my mind over my beating heart, and pushed on.
"But as a brother," I lied. "You're my best friend, my right hand. And you know that. I can happily be your friend, Constantine," This time I took his hand, however painful it would be to remove my swollen fingers from his gentle touch. "But I'm no one's lover."
I saw a tear roll down his cheek, mirroring my face, and I fought the urge to wipe it away. I'd broken his heart.
I'd broken it in two, stomped it into a pulp, and fed it to a heavy-duty garbage disposal.
My eyes felt watery, and through the haze, I dropped his hand and walked away with heavy feet toward home.

[Member]

Griff, you need to teach me how to continue a story, because you've written more than I could have. XD

[Rain]

It's my skillz, I can't help it. x3 Pm me ur story, I'll help u out wit da plot.

[Moss]

... My good friend, I have 4 important letters for you. :3

TLDR

[Bee]

Yeah. What Mem said. =3=

"As I placed the black machine on my desk, an [Thou whose name shalt not be spoketh] grip grabbed onto my wrist."

"I ripped my hand out of her hard grip and stood up, shoulders tensed and squared, eyes as icy as [Thou whose name shalt not be spoketh], and twice as hard(I'm assuming)."

Those made me laugh. XD

[Rain]

...Who wrecked my masterpiece...... >:C

[Ace]

You have 2 Chapter 16s.

[Rain]

Chapter 20:
Dr. Phil

I was crying silently by the time I reached the attic, tears streaming down my cheeks. I kept my head down through the village, so no one would know, so they wouldn't notice. I passed that guy Cody and that mute Mathew, too. Neither spoke to me, and I didn't say a damn thing to them. Only a simple nod from Cody, with a gentle smile, as if he could feel my desperate fear of being discovered. I felt like I could trust him to know he wouldn't say anything.
No one saw my despair.
They were all too caught up in picking up the carnage and destruction of the battle. Blood scored all about the sandy battlefield, a few griffin and dragon carcasses still there, waiting to be tended to. It made me feel strong, powerful to know that I had survived while the weaker beings had fallen. It was a dog-eat-dog world, people had to realize this. But at the same moment, my heart fell harder still. Every ounce of my skill of killing forgotten as my eyes fell upon the dead bodies, mangled and twisted in a bloody mess. All this death, all this pain, for some stupid. . . Hell, I didn't even actually know why the battle had happened, I just knew I wasn't about to die because of some bird-riding freaks. It was ridiculous, if you really thought about it.
Stumbling into the kitchen, I found Jasmine sipping her water, enjoying her lunch of Spanish cuisine, the food I had grown to adore. The food that had once made my mouth water now made my stomach want to give up it's breakfast.
She looked up, tapping her fingers on the table to see me. "Hey." Her voice sounded joyful and bubbly, as she always was when I was with her. Nothing troubled coming from her point of view.
If she was waiting for a reply, I gave her none. I slipped into the bathroom and practically crashed into the shower, my skin screaming in pain as I turned the water as hot as it would go. I felt myself melt and I cried. I cried and cried and cired. I cried even after the water went ice cold.
I'd broken his heart. I'd broken mine.
We both loved each other, that was obvious by now. I was still shocked he was, and even more by the fact that I hadn't noticed it all these years. I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been. But I refused to let instinct take over. Based upon my horrible family line, my past actions, even how I felt toward certain things, I didn't want another me to be born into this blissful world and tear it down. I could barely hold back my bad intention now. I could only imagine what another me could cause, and how I couldn't stop it.
No one deserved two Aviras.
I didn't want kids, I didn't need to focus on them. I had too much on my plate already.
Colt would want to marry. I wouldn't do it. Ever. He'd want kids, that wouldn't go over well. He deserved a good girl. One who could truly love him , not just jump into his bed as I would. He needed someone who'd make sure he was taken care of before her. He deserved marriage, beautiful children, the love of his life. I just didn't fit into that picture.
I wouldn't do any of that.
A tap on the door, "Avira?"
I didn't answer. I struggled to pull myself together and sniffle, stifling my stream of tears. Somehow, I had to stop everything and be Avira again. No more drama-queen, no more teenage romance, no more feeling bad for the dead. I needed to get back to the violence-loving, sarcastic, pessimistic, anti-social, trucker-mouth, dumbass me. Why I couldn't I do so?
"I'm coming in." I heard her, her voice hard, stern, and worried all at once. It made me feel that much worse to know that she was like my little sister. I was such a bad influence on her.
The door opened and shut, and I knew Jazz was in.
I breathed in, trying to steady my shaky lungs. I couldn't let Jasmine see me like this. I'd cried in front of her before, when I'd tried to sort out my nightmares and stop them from coming about, attempted to sort out my problems. But it'd never been this bad. She didn't need to get mixed up in my love life, nor did she deserve it.
She opened the shower door, oblivious to the fact that I was naked. "Get out," She growled at me. She had a soft, plush robe in her hands, I'm assuming for me.
So close to breaking down like an infant once again, I stepped out of the freezing water, my body numb inside and out. The icy linoeum floor felt like warm baking stones, fresh from a bread oven.
Her hand held out, I took the robe and tied myself into the soft white cotton, warmth enveloping my skin.
Why'd I feel so cold inside?
She sat me down on the toilet, it's lid down so I didn't fall in. What was wrong with me? How do you loose all your nerve in less than twelve hours? Before that arrow I was as mentally strong as I was physically. I was as strong as an ox and as stubborn as a mule. Why couldn't I be that same demonic girl?
"What happened?" I simply hung my head in reply. I refused to say, it'd just make me break down again.
She took my whole face into her hands and shook me hard, her nails digging into my skin, the pain pure bliss. "What was that?" She was growling, pissed that I wasn't spilling the beans. She felt left out and abandoned, I could feel the waves of emotion radiating from her like an ocean tide.
"I didn't hear you." Her voice taunted me and I felt a tear trickle out of my eye. I was so pathetic.
"Well?" For a blind girl, Jasmine's glare was as good as it got. She scared the shit out of me.
Might as well tell her. She'd kill me if I didn't. A messy, blood-bathed, massacre.
But then. . . What was so wrong with death? I wouldn't to worry anymore. My world would be heaven.
And Jasmine would be alone.
I looked at her. Her foot was tapping away, I knew she could see me. "He kissed me." My voice was a croaking whisper, harsh on my raw throat.
She smiled, overjoyed, chiseling my heart away one painful chip at a time. "That's great! What the hell you cryin' about? You goin' out with him? Oh my god, you two would make such a cute couple. I'm so jealous!"
A sob racked my lungs and I fell into tears. "I broke his heart."
She moved me to the floor, easing me body into a criss-cross-applesauce position like a little child in kindergarten, sitting with me. "What? How?"
Jasmine was confused and young. Would she get me? Do you get me? Is there anyone that really gives a shit?
"I told him no. I couldn't do it. It was way too much." I struggled to spit all the words out between all the tears. Where was Dr. Phil when you needed him?
"You don't like 'em? He looks pretty damn hot from my perspective, Honey." She was grinning from ear to ear, trying to get me to laugh.
Her words made me hurt that much more. Of course I liked him. I'd be stupid not to. "I don't like him, Jazz. I love him. With all my heart, I love him so much. But I can't love him."
Oh, the drama.
She was quieter now, realizing there was no joking out of this. "Why Avi?" She'd started calling me that, too. Her own imagination brought her to think of the same name Constantine had.
"He wants kids, marriage, love. He wants a good girl, deserves a good girl. He's done nothing wrong and I've done nothing right. He's not meant for me. I'd end up killing him."
"Um, you're sounding like a drama-queen. There's nothing wrong with you. Opposites attract, stupid. If he really loves you he'll adjust his motives. Pull yourself together and go apologize to him." She was smiling like an idiot. "If you're lucky, you'll end up with a good make-out session."
"I've killed someone, Jasmine!" I shook her hard at the shoulders, my mind going back to the day I'd pulled out the knife, sawed through every leathery piece. I made my aim, my own objective. I didn't fail.
"I killed him, with my own two hands. You know what was written as his cause of death? Avira O'Reily. My name, right on his death certificate."
I kenw my eyes were wild, barbaric, and hers were just pure shock.
"When?"
I looked down, feeling as if I should be crying, but I wasn't. The murder had leveled me out, calmed my nerves. I looked down anyway, feeling shame burn on my skin. "Before I came here. Back in Colorado."
"An assassin?"
"He broke my mom's arm," I said simply, a few tears running down my cheek.
She sat closer to me, her arm draped over my shoulder as she held me closer. "Tell me. Everything."
Well, what did I have to loose? It really wasn't possible to have Jasmine hate me, after all we'd been through, right? "Colt's Dad, Mike or whatever, he married Colt's Mom a few years after she divorced her last husband. With Colt's birth, they had no choice but to marry." I shrugged, ignoring the pain shooting into my wounded shoulder.
"When I first met Constantine, I was only three or four. He met me trying to rob his juice. He ratted me out and his dad came over to give me the talking of a lifetime. It wasn't that bad, but my mom wasn't too happy about it. She didn't like someone talking to her kid like he did." I took in a deep breathe, filling in my racking lungs. I was sobbing my story out, but a light tap on my leg let me know Jasmine wanted to know more. "The day that horse went nuts, the one I named Constantine after? They blamed it on me, they were right. I snuck up behind it to try and tackle it, play with it, and it flipped out. I got knocked down and Constantine had to stop it from crushing my head like a soda can when I tripped. His father came out in an uproar." My hands were going nuts, besides the fact they were broken and twisted. They fiddled and wriggled restlessly.
My nerves were shot. I could feel the dark side of me laughing at me, while the last bit of humanity was begging me to feel horrible. I did, but only because I had taken Constantine's father away. I didn't give a damn about the man loosing his life. Constantine loved his father, despite the amount of anger the man had put out toward his only son. When Mike had died, Constantine had lost it. I caught him attempting suicide.
"My mom came up in about a half an hour to pick me up. Mike told me I couldn't ever come back. Mom, she threw a fit. They got into a huge argument and ended up getting into a fist fight. He wound up breaking my mom's arm right in front of me. I couldn't believe it, but I never forgot it."
Another deep breath, but it seemed to drain me more than it helped. "The next night I slipped into the barn and cut the saddle straps on Mike's tack. Only a little, so it wouldn't be noticed. The next day, when I was at school, I got the message he was dead. He fell off his horse and was trampled beneath the horses being corraled. Constantine's Mom suspected it was me, but she didn't report me. I was too young anyway. The worst that would happen was that I'd be taken away from my mother. So she stayed quiet."
"It was in self-defense, Avira. You were protecting your mother." Jasmine was whispering. Her voice was trying to soothe me, but I felt hollow inside. How could I be with the man I hurt so much? It couldn't be done, I wouldn't do it. The guilt drove me mad inside. It was better just to stay away from him and let him find someone else. If I was lucky, it was just teenager romance or Puppy Love or something. He'd find another pretty girl soon. He was a very, very wanted man.
"No. It was cold-blood, Jazz. I know what I did. Constantine couldn't live with a monster like me if he knew what I did."
She hugged me hard, and I choked back a few more tears. "You're not a monster."
I actually gave up a pathetic laugh. "If only you knew."

[Rain]

Chapter 21:
Being Neighboorly
Jasmine took me out of training for a whole two weeks.
It was practically the worst time of my life. Sitting home alone, like a lost child, doing really nothing to keep yourself occupied. She told me I needed to rest my shoulder, which had now become a mere irritation rather than a wound. The gape in my skin had closed, and I could feel the muscles repairing themselves, almost as if they were fusing themselves with the hottest flames of hell. It was a powerful sensation.
She was probably taking pity on me and my love-life dilehma. I'd still like to know how I'd gotten myself intwined in all this crap, but I wasn't nearly as caught up in that as I was toward getting out.
So she locked me up in the attic, like the freak in a hillbilly family. When I asked her what I should do, her exact words were: "If you feel pent up, practice your cooking. Swim for an hour down at the creek once a day, no more. You gotta rest. You're shoulder needs it."
When I met her cloudy blue eyes, I could see she was talking about my heart, and I was that much closer to breaking down again. She didn't give a damn about my shoulder, and niether did I.
After about three days, I was going nuts. I'd even resorted to talking to Hades the rat after I'd run out of potato-de-whatevers to cook and devour. I was already cooking those like a pro, and still working on some seriously good hash browns. I needed something more to do, something to take my mind off of the fact that it was raining outside and the walls keeping the water out were mocking me.
I resorted to listening, eavesdropping. Actually, it wasn't that hard. I could stay at the side of the creek on my bed and just listen. My ears sort of like zoned in on conversations that were happening at least a few hundred yards away. Wierd right? But given the circumstances, nothing that happened to me or my abilities was considered wierd anymore. I told no one of them, but the longer I stayed here, the more I learned of them, the more their strength grew.
First off, I could see in water. The blackest waters just turned a deep blue for me. And the night? I felt like an owl as I walked about looking at the different colors each tree held. Some were brown, some gray, and some a blackish color. My vision went from suckish, to night-vision practically overnight. My agility skills skyrocketed. I could flip, dive, roll, and pretty much pull of whatever I wanted to. Of course, they were some limits, but I was hoping to overcome them. My hearing intesified, and I could hear anything I chose to. As noted before, I could conversations way too far away like a conversation happening right in front of me. Thankfully, that's all that's happened so far. Though I wouldn't doubt some other wacky thing happening.
So anyway, it turns out that only about ten of our kids actually died (Two had dragons who know wander around wondering what to do), but out of the twenty-five that were originally here, counting Constantine and I, it was a fatal blow. We had about two men die, and surprisingly only one woman. Each one had family here, and each family mourned to the fullest. I stayed away from the funerals, but even their tears could be heard from the discrete attic above the third floor.
Did I feel sorry? No, not exactly. The battle had taken away most of my blood lust, though I still had the burning itch to hurt someone pretty bad. Now that I'd had a taste, I didn't just want to fight someone until they gave in, I wanted to fight to the death. Last man standing. The feeling of pulse loosing its strength, the warmth of blood on my skin. . . . . I was beginning to get nightmares about it as well. Was it a bad thing?
I'm still trying to figure it out.
* * *
So I sat on my soft bad, legs folded beneath me, staring blankly at the wall, trying to find some interesting conversations. Of course, it was nothing but gossip and jokes. I'd already eaten my fill, and my bored mind was leaning toward the option of an eight-hour nap.
I didn't care what I did anymore. I didn't want to do anything, not even swim. I was too depressed.
I'd lost everything. My mom, my home, my cat, my heart, Constantine, I'd even lost my own god damned name. All my pride was slipping out of my veins, draining into the earth itself.
The only thing I had left was fourteen-year-old Jasmine, the blue -eyed blind girl. But now, after seeing my pathetic ways of depression, she was attempting to seperate herself from my broken spirit. Slowly, but surely, I was being abandoned. Every time I thought about being abandoned, I wondered if Constantine would still be my friend, my lover. Would he still befriend me if he knew how I was acting now?
My head kept playing that one stupid song by Evanescence, "Bring Me To Life" This line, over and over:

Without a soul,
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold,
Until you find it there and lead it back home.

Wake me up inside,
Wake me up inside,
Call my name and save me from the dark.
Bid my blood to run,
Before I come undone,
Save me from the nothing I've become.

I fucking hate you, Constantine.
My palms burned, fixed bones warming with a vivid itch I couldn't scratch. Brain pulsing, I turned my head to the chest at the foot of my bed without even thinking.
I had to have it.
Dust gathered on the lid danced in a floating waltz throughout the clean air before me as my hand lifted the aged oak up.
There it was.
How much longer did I have? What did Jasmine say? A month? It'd been three weeks since then.

Time was running out.

My palms tingled as the skin skimmed over the smooth, smoky shell. I hardly dared to breathe as I lifted it from the soft black hoody it nest upon.
It was getting heavier.
My body eased itself in a calm, silent sit as I laid the unhatched beast in my lap. My breathing was slow and I could feel every pound of blood going through my veins, every pump my heart dared to make. I half expected to stop when I felt a low beat coming from inside the egg. It held a steady pulse. Weak, but there.
It could've been hours, coul've been minutes, but I sat there staring at that egg, taking in the pulse within the shell, the life radiating from the core. It was amazing how such a small thing could grow to kill you in such little time.
"It is amazing to see how life begins, no?"
Pulse increasing violently, I looked up to see an old african-american woman standing there in clothes that looked almost as old as she was.
I jumped up, gravity feeling far too heavy, my body far too weak as the egg rolled onto my egg without injury. "Who are you?"
My voice was a incredibly strong growl, and I was slightly surprised to see I still had that much strength left within my voice, and pride swelled in my veins.
She chuckled an old person chuckle, short and warm. It made me sick. "Calm child, calm. I mean you no harm. I suppose they weren't lying when they said curiousity killed the cat, no?"
I didn't let my guard down, though I did notice she spoke wierd. I just couldn't pick an origin to label the strange accent she bore.
"What do you want from me?"
"Right to the point, I see." She was somewhere between a frown and a smile, but I could see something else, something I couldn't name at the moment, not without wasting precious time on analyzing it further in my small mind.
I, saying nothing, stood there with the strongest glare I could manage without giving myself a stroke.
"Some sugar, child. I came here for some sugar."
My eyebrow rose in a question look, curiosity flickering in the back of my head.
"Where, exactly, did you come from?"
She smiled again, her eyes crickling into mere slits of bright hazel under the soft cheeks that rose. "I'm your neighbor, I live downstairs, beneath you."
I questioned it mentally, but the pulse beating in my ears from her ancient heart told me the woman wasn't lying, or she was a very, very good liar.
"Yeah, sure." I finally gave in, heading into the kitchen.
She sat down, making herself at home. Why would you sit down if it only takes about thirty seconds to fill a cup with some sugar?
"You haven't been here long."
I didn't turn, but my ears were wide open. "So?" What did she care? I wasn't her kid, she didn't have any authority over me.
"And yet you had a dragon in your grasp, begging to be released from it's prison."
I stopped. What exactly was she getting at? Who the hell was this bitch?
"Yeah?"
She almost seemed to be speaking in code.
"Capable of so much death, yet you only bring life."
I turned around, my skin crawling. "Here, take your sugar and get out. Got it? You're not welcome in my place."
She simply stood and took her glass of white sugar and smiled, looking down at it. For an old hag, she moved lightning fast as her fingers took a pinch from the cup and flicked at my face.
"Ugh!"
My hands fractically went to clean my vision and [Thou whose name shalt not be spoketh/[Thou whose name shalt not be spoketh]] grips burned as they wrapped around my wrists. "Stay still, child!" The woman growled and I yell in reply, "Get off!"
"Still," She growled back harder, tightening her grip, and I forced myself to stand still, letting the woman look at my face as I gazed back at her in pure terror. I couldn't even find the strength to fight back, I was weak and tired, my brain fizzling into nothing more than mush.
"Not a speck upon your pale cheeks, yet nothing but black night within the once silver gaze." I made out the mutter crystal clear.
I was officially freaked out.
I tried to break away gain, but she shook me hard by my wrists. "Child, listen." Her voice was grave and clear, wreeking of wisdom.
"Don't give in to temptation. Strength is your great ally. When all hope is lost, remember the hour is darkest just before dawn."
I nodded pathetically, breath leaving my lungs and desperation clawed at my heart with posioned talons. I had to get away from this insane asylum escapee.
"Beware child, early life comes with a heavy toll. Death shows no mercy, not even to the triumphant," she whispered hard, and my brain pulsed. I knew I was memorizing this stuff, but I couldn't figure it out just yet. I was too busy breaking down. My face felt like someone was grilling on it, and my eyes were welling up with moisture, close to tears.
"When the sky seems clouded, seek me out."
She was speaking far too fast, throwing all the wisdom words on me without giving my mind a moment of peace to sort through all the crap she was trying to tell me. I wasn't even sure she was there to help me. Did the things she was telling me make any sense at all? Were they even true? Why had this bitch come to my place and throw sugar at me?
Meanwhile, that was the last cryptic verse I heard from her. The burning had begun to ease and I opened my eyes to see the woman gone, my door closed as if none of it had happened. Even the glass and the sugar thrown at me were gone. Not a single grain lay scattered upon the floor, not a spec lying upon my face.
It didn't matter.
My whole world had begun to spin and I crashed with gravity on my side to ground. My back slammed against the cabinets, my spine cracking with half-pleasure, half-pain into the hard wood, making me grit my jaw hard. My head drooped forward, empty lungs sobbing pathetically with fogged up head, burning wrists, and every tear I had begging to be let go.
Intense confusion blasted through my head, like a dangerous drug, a sedative overdose. It made my head hurt, spin harder. I felt groggy and dazed, as if I'd taken a blow to my temple. Gravity seemed so much stronger than I, and the floor that much more colder.
For almost ten minutes I remained like that, hyperventilating as I groaned with pain and cried with every emotion I had.
And then, it was over. Just like that. Not just the crying, but the confusion. The pain. The sorrow. My depression. My weakness. I no longer felt sorry for myself, I wanted to go out and find a fight. I wanted to rid myself of some pent up energy, release my restless spirit into the bloodiest match I could find.
Heart? Who said I had one?
Wiping my cheeks, I picked my steady-pulsed body up and grinned to myself. I wanted to work with my bow, go work out some more. I wanted to show Jasmine I wasn't some emo freak anymore. That oughtta get her aprroval .
I heard a sudden pop from inside my room and my head whipped over to see the egg resting upon my cotton covers, it's silver-gray shell containing a fierce crack down it's side, ending abruptly two inches or so from the bottom. It had aquired another jagged line, mocking me and my fear, and I gave it a crooked grin. "Bring it, Bitch."
My cocky joy renewed, I felt like I was ready to take the whole world on, all at once. By myself. My paranoia? Gone. For now. I already knew the exits, and that was enough for me. No one could possibly sneak up on me in my own territory.
Heading for the door, I turned the knob and pulled the door in, coming face to face with a blue-eyed spanish girl out of breath.
"Council wants you. Now." She looked up at me with a gaze of excitement, of urgency.
Snorthing, I grinned. "Oh yeah? What for?"
Jasmine took a quick breath, to steady her voice from the quivering it had held.
"Your Guardian."

[Rain]

;Chapter 22:
Devious Duo

I presented myself with the best bravado stance as I strolled in, face as cold as ice, still as stone. I didn't sit, just looked at the motely crew with hands curling into tight fists of seething rage. I hated officials. Hated them.
Christian & The Gang were all there, all twelve of them. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Constantine sitting beside Mallory, and I extinguished my hope when memory kicked in.
Mathew waved, his mouth curled into a friendly smile and I fought the urge to strangle him until his eyes popped out. Christian was the one to break the ice. "Avira, Cloridan tells me you're doing well. Exceeding expectations, even."
I stayed sober, with a hard glare at him. "Yeah, so?"
Jasmine elbowed my side, though I barely felt the pain in my numbed flesh.
Mallory plowed on for him, her voice attempting too hard at gentle. "We've all seen how good you've gotten. We think it's time you went back for Molly."
Inside my blood froze with ice, but outside I made a snarl. "How do you know about Molly?"
Mallory didn't smile, just stuck her thumb at my ex-best-friend.
Glaring at him, I almost missed Christian's next set of words. "Mr. Jones is also in need of his Guardian, so the both of you are to go together. I saw Constantine's glare spark with hope and desire, burning as fiercely as my need to stay away from him. Dread and misfortune crept into my heart and I reacted immediately.
"What?" I was struggling for words, for a reason to decline their offer. Somehow I had to get out of it. Thank God I had Jasmine with me.
"What about Olympus and Valhalen? They can be back any day now. We'll need all the help we can get our hands on."
The elders/old freaks looked a bit taken back that Jasmine had spoken out, and I took a mental note to ask why. Later, of course.
"As far as I'm concerned, the more Guardians we have, the less of a threat they would make." Christian ruled her out fast. Thanks anyway, Kid.
"So I'll go alone. I know how to get back and I know I can do it." I kept glaring at Christian, daring him to challenge me. He took that dare like a fish on a worm. "As does he, but he cannot make it without help, which you can easily provide."
"And there's no other way he can get back?" My hands found my hips and eyebrows rose in question.
No one really dared to talk back to me. Some were in quiet outrage, while the rest were in plain shock, as if surprised I wasn't treating them with the respect they wouldn't give me.
"Not without a dragon." Mallory sighed, "Or a way of knowing what element he is." Her blue eyes met mine and I could read the gaze. She was being honest. "If we put him in an element he shouldn't be in, we could end up killing him. You only made it through the tunnel because you are part of the Water element. Obviously, Constantine is not."
"Then someone can bring him." I scanned the room and actually found the guy that led me to the library that one day. What was his name?
"Cody, you can do it, right?" He frowned at my request and shook his head in dismay, palms up in defeat. "Sorry, no can do."
"You set out tomorrow morning." Christian gave me a genuine stone cold look.
I glared back at him, "We set out in fifteen minutes."
He gave me an angered, yet curt, nod. "Fine."

* * *

Jasmine was hard on my tail as I jogged to the water of my near death experience. "Wait up!"
For the upteenth time, I rolled my eyes, and this time I finally stopped. "What?" Agitation rolled off my tongue and she gave me a good punch to the shoulder, apparently that would increase my focus level.
"Listen to me, Stupid. I'm trying to tell you somethin' important." Her big blue eyes narrowed at me, her foot tapping against the soil to read my face of anger and frustration. I didn't want to go on this trip.
"And?" I wanted to get this over with. Couldn't she hold social hour until I got back? Was it really that big of a deal?
"Okay, okay." She took a breath in, finally read to share what she was meaning to say. "Try listening to your heart. We both know what your mind wants in the current situation, but what about your heart?"
Great. Pocahontas is teaching me to pain with the colors of the wind.
She must have seen my disdain because she frowned, "My grandmother was the wisest person I knew. She said the heart whispers so ears must be attentive to hear what it calls." Jasmine let up a slight smile at me, "Now stop being such a stuck-up bitch and go with your feelings."
I gritted my jaw, wanting to punch her as hard as I could, but I nodded and kept walking in the other direction.
"Good luck!"
The shallows looked beautiful. Water flowing there was a clear turquiose blue, the brown-black mud visible at the bottom. But even though it was mud, even that looked like fresh, clean soil.
A sheer drop made up the cliff of what looked like granite or something. A stone jutted out the side, a flat step made for Godzilla. Water cascaded over the edge with high velocity, crashing upon the step, sending the clear liquid everywhere. All of it crashed clumsily into the pool of water below it with a rolling sound of awesome power.
Estimation brought an educated guess that the pool itself was circular in shape, with a diameter of about seven-to-eight-hundred yards. With a waterfall like that, it had to be at least thirty feet deep, but I was no proffessional, so I couldn't be sure.
Lush vegetation covered the shore line until the last ten feet, where only ferns sparsely claimed it's territory. Birds chirped, darting in and out of sight. The wilderness was peaceful here, and life seemed far too easy.
What would happen if I just stayed here for the rest of my life?
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
He'd snuck up on me, caught me off guard. But I didn't let it show. "Hardly."
I'd already started moving, heading over damp soil toward the first layer of rock keeping me and the underwater tunnel apart.
"Vixen, wait." He called, rushing to get by my side.
I whirled around, suddenly standing right in front of him, looking up at his face. I had to fight to keep down the lust that rose in my throat, the pounding in my ears, the roar of desire in my heart. I aimed it all into anger, feeling as violent as a wolf with a thirst for blood. "Don't call me that," I growled in a low whisper.
"Will you-"
"Let's just get this over with." I hoped my gruff voice and harsh temper was cooling his lust for me, turning him off.
Ten feet in the air, my arms burned with a hunger for more. I gave it to them, throwing all of my anger and hurt into the muscles in my arms, pulling me up the wall like a hell-bent squirrel.
I pulled myself over the ledge, rolling onto green river grass, enjoying it's coolness for a moment as I breathed in quietly. At the sight of Constantine's hand, I picked myself up and walked downstream. It was flowing fast, so I couldn't really tell where the opening to the tunnel would be. A few quick seconds flowing down a river could have been hundreds of yards, and I couldn't tell.
"So how's this going to work?" The boy was panting to catch up to me, though I think it was teh run that got him, not the climb.
"However I choose it to." Up in the distance, I could see a spot where the blue got darker. There was the entrance.
Halting in front of it, I kept my eyes on the water. The current was too strong for a dive without a fight. I could do it, but my wonderful partner couldn't.
"Do a running dive and grab onto my shirt as soon as you're in," I was already backing up, getting ready for a dash to the river. I sprinted as hard as I could, my legs burning with strain. At the last second, I jumped. Tucking my knees in, I did a flip to add some velocity and get my farther through the current. My dive ended up taking me clean past the current, only dragging me a foot or so to the left.
The icy water felt numb, but good on my skin, and I had to force myself to wait a moment.
A tug on my shirt and that was all I needed before I rushed through going as fast as my legs could. We cut through water like a knife on butter. I could feel my cheeks starting to be pulled back, to be taken by the water, and I bit down on them to keep them still.
Half of me wanted to shake my rider off, but the other half of me wanted to go as fast as I could so he wouldn't run out of breath and drown again.
At a loss, I decided to focus more on the tunnel. I wouldn't stop at the air pocket since a few moments of air would only tease his lungs, and quite frankly, I didn't need it.
We pressed past the pocket and I felt his grip loosen slightly. He was already runnning out of air. Didn't he ever go swimming?
I went on max and kept my eyes on teh wall. We were almost there, he'd make it.
I turned a sharp ninety-degree angle up, flying through the tunnel and into our old pound. The waters were noticeably warmer and glints of silver here and there showed the fish I'd been after.
My head broke the surface and he followed, letting me go as he gasped and spluttered, choking on the fresh air.
I let him do his own thing and got out, searching all our camping equipment that had been left. Nothing was changed, nothing had been touched, it was all here. We'd need blankets and some new clothes. And I might as well start a fire, but I wasn't too good with fires.
Digging through my sleeping bag, I found my phone. Kissing the screen with joy, I accidently hit a button and the screen lit up with life. And to think it was supposed to be dead by now.
10 New Messages
I gulped and looked at the sender.
All from Mom.
I shuddered and tucked the communication device back in my sleeping bag, until later.
My eyes scanned the Cat's Den again, taking in a the lush green and Constantine at the fire pit, already encouraging a blade of flame from the depths of kindling. My mind went to food and I spotted the poles.
Fishing was my skill.
I picked up a pole with a lure on it and tossed it in, slowly reeling it in with jerks here and there to encourage a bite.
On the third cast, a massive bite hit my pole and I pulled, hooking the fish. We fought back and forth for fifteen minutes at least, and if Constantine said anything, I didn't hear him.
Finally hauling him out, I dragged my three-pound catfish and finished him off, gutting out the dead body with a blade I found beside the poles.
I dragged him over to the fire and started cooking him up. I used a stick to skewer him and held him over the fire.
"Mhmm. . . Long John Silvers." I met Constantine's grinning face and looked back at the fire. "Shut up." I said with forced annoyance.
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. He sprang to his feet, hands curled into fists. "What did I do to you? What the hell is your problem?"
I felt anger rise in my belly and I stood up, facing him as I threw the fish down. "You're my problem!" My voice was hovering below a scream, but definitely above a shout.
"Yeah? Then do something about it!"
I jumped to life, aiming a hard punch at his throat. He caught it and I jumped up, kicking his chest to do a backward flip.
He released my hand and fell back into a backward handspring to his feet I snarled at him, fighting for breath even though I'd barely done anything.
Constantine lunged at me, and I went to duck out of the way. I thought I was clear, but he clipped my arm and dragged me down into a pin. I headbutted him and he rocked back on his knees. I pulled my legs out from under him and kicked him hard on the chest, right on the collar bone.
He went down flat and I attempted a pin. When I thought I had him down, he looked at me and I felt my weight rise as he did a backward roll with me on him.
He came on top, my wrists pinned. He straddled my waist, making my legs useless. His head wasn't close enough to headbutt, and I was too weak to push off that much weight.
Constantine beat me.
We lay there, gasping. His head was pink and looked sore. I still pondered on the fact that even though I'd attacked him, he had managed to fight me without even once hitting me. Neither of us broke eye contact.
At last, he spoke. "I really," He gasped, getting ready to laugh, but forcing himself not to. He started over, "I really, really want to kiss you right now." Pausing he gave it a moment to let his words sink in.
I have to be honest though, he was looking pretty hot at the moment. His shaggy dirty blonde hair, his well-toned body, the rock hard abs I could feel against my body. Oh yeah, it was definitely tempting.
"But I won't," He said, his eyes going cold. A third of me wanted to celebrate, the other two thirds fell into disapointment. "Because I knwo you don't want me too." I felt his thumb brush my wrist gently. "So I'm gonna let you get up. But, before I do that, you gotta promise you'll stop being so damn hostle."
I glanced aroung again, checking for a tenth time that there was no way out besides surrender. There was none.
I was still panting, but I foudn the air to sigh and relax all the tension in my body. I met his mossy green eyes and set my jaw. "Fine."
He sat up, my wrists sweaty, but free. I swept my hands through my hair, now stretching down to my neck, and rubbed my scalp thoroughly. I sat up, a little too fast, and my face came less than an inch away from his, and I knew he felt exactly what I did. My heart skipped a beat and it turned out only he had the strength to break the connection.
He stood up, walking away to the fire, picking up the fish. I forced myself to stand and I sat down on my stump.
"At first I didn't think there was anything wrong, I still don't. I can't come up with any reasons why this wouldn't work out. But after all this, I just want things to go back to the way they were. I'd give anything to take that kiss back," He sighed, looking old and tired. He was still soaking wet.
"You know that's not possible. We can never go back into the past. Even when summer turns to fall again, that fall is never the same as the one before it." My eyes were glued to the fire, my heart sinking as fast as his, possibly faster.
Constantine chuckled, making me look up. "What?"
He shook his head, "Nothin'. I just never heard you say anything like that before."
"Yeah, I know. Sounds pretty lame."
"No, I like it. I wish you'd show how smart you are more often."
This was news to me. "Smart?" I had to laught at that, "I'm dumber than a goldfish. An acorn has a higher IQ."
He laughed back at me and shook his head, part in disapproval, and the other in disapointment. He felt the fish, seeing if the flesh was cooked thoroughly. Finding that it was, he placed it upon one of the stones around the fire pit.
He got up soundlessly and sat beside the pond, practically callming me to him. How could I resist? I coudln't stay away from him.
I sat about two feet away from him, a safe distance to prevent. . . things from happening. We both stayed in silence, him lost in his thoughts, me lost in the sound of his steady heartbeat.
"You wanna know why I call you Vixen?" Constantine offered the answer to Jasmine's question. But I wasn't sure I was going to relay that answer back to her, regardless of the results.
"Why?"
My twin looked at me, "Come on, think about it. It's really not that hard to figure out."
Vixen. A vixen is a female fox. When you call a human a fox, it usually means a female, a pretty female.
My blood shot up to a thousand degrees. "Are you calling me a tramp?"
Constantine laughed outright. "No. No, I mean," He paused, looking at me sincerely. "You are beautiful, but that's not what I meant. You're smart. Brilliant."
"Hardly. You beat me in suduko and algebra and-"
"In long-term things. But I've seen you fight even before training. And the time you saved me from falling out of that tree, or the river? You know what to do at the exact moment it's necessary. Your mind is far faster than anyone I ever knew."
I knew I should be blushing big time, but I wasn't. I didn't reply to him and we sat in more silence, the calm type, to concentrate on our own thoughts and fight hard against the chemistry happening between us.
Finally, I broke the quiet. "Colt, you know what we are?"
"Hmm?" He looked over at me.
"We're the Devious Duo."

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