Gilbert Bennet
Of course I didn’t go to the party. Aside from the fact that I’m a massive introvert and a huge party of people I barely know is my personal hell, parties are way too often bursting at the seams with angst and drama and things like that. You can’t throw a stone at one of those things without hitting a girl who just broke up or a guy who is just now realizing how much he hates life or something. With my curse, even in full protective hoodie and jeans, the negative feelings would probably knock me out or blow my head off or something.
I don’t like feeling lousy. I really don’t. I’ve kind of gotten used to it, but not completely, and it’s bad enough being packed into a classroom with twenty other unhappy people for eight hours a day without going to a stupid party filled with the same unhappy people with the same bad feelings.
I slouched into the ragged sofa and changed the channel. Another stupid new story about disappearances. I flicked the off button and decided to take a nap.
Now I’m falling, falling away, into darkness, horrible things are tearing away at me. Terror and pain tear through me, pulling at every nerve. I’m trying to scream but I can’t breathe, and now--
“Aaaaah!” I screamed as I woke up.
“What happened!?” Mom called from the kitchen.
“Just another nightmare,” I returned. Not going back to sleep, I reminded myself. I’d been having that exact same terrible nightmare ever since the first day at this new school.
I was walking through the hall, wondering where I was supposed to go and hoping there would only be a few people there. I looked down at the map and back up, not being able to match the hall to one on the paper. Why are these places always so confusing? I wondered as I paused to consult the map again.
Looking up, I saw a girl at a locker. She was rather pretty, with bright red hair and large eyes (which were pointed straight down for some reason, as if to avoid eye contact with anyone). Aw man, I thought, I‘m going to have to talk to someone, aren‘t I? “Hey, can you help me with this stupid map?”
Startled, she looked up quickly, and then I blacked out. I don’t remember anything after that until I was lying in the hallway screaming in a small crowd getting progressively more shameful, scared, shocked, confused, and apologetic by the second (stupid crowds). The girl, who I later learned was named Gavyn, was looking down again while profusely apologizing. My brain was still fuzzy, so I don’t completely remember what happened afterwards, but I think I stumble-ran (still screaming) down the hall and out of the school. Someone found me and brought me back to the right classroom. I’d been having the nightmare ever since.
That’s exactly the sort of thing that makes me hate mythics. I found out later she, being one, caused fear in the mind of anyone who looked into her eyes. That, combined with my curse, gave me the amazing ability to retain the fear in my subconscious and gave me the nightmare. If it weren’t for mythics, this stuff wouldn’t happen.
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