Young Writers Society

I've been having these dreams about darkening skies. About lying in an endless field of grass danger approaching from somewhere beyond the darkness, I can hear the screams of horror as somewhere off in the distance destruction begins to take its toll on humanity. The world as we know it has gone dark, the sun has faded away. All that is left is the sensation that you could be the next to die, that you could be the next one to fall into the unknown abyss, six feet under from everyone else. I toss and turn in my sleep like an uncontrollable earthquake sweating as I scream for help. But no one can hear me, no, I can’t move as if I am paralyzed. I try over and over to move but nothing is working. I start to breathe heavy my heart beating faster; I only wish I could wake up from this nightmare.

With a quick burst of energy my eyes flick open; my body is no longer paralyzed. I swing upward covering my hands with my face. I feel the tears that have wanted to release stream down my eyes. Somewhere in the house I hear the sounds of footsteps rushing toward my door, the handle starts to shake and my door pops open. My father with a worried look on his face rushes towards me. I look deep into his eyes before even trying to speak. But he quickly shushes me as his hands wrap around me, holding me tightly… reassuring me he will never let go. I am not quick to calm down, but I know he is my savior. I know my father is here to serve and protect my mother and me.

I am not your average sixteen year old daughter. I am you’re average gossip queen and best friend. The one who has always been there for you when you’ve needed me the most, and I always will be. I’m not one who will say I will be there and never show up, no I take initiative for everything I do. I am responsible enough to count on, if I had to save the world one day then by any means count on me. My name is Aulani Marie, you’re average sixteen year old teenager. I live in Cloverton, Michigan population five hundred sixty two, never exciding that number…never. Thing’s here seem to stay the same a lot, rarely does anything ever change, including my life. I feel trapped here, stuck in this small green collar town. I need a change, a new environment with something better, more exciting. I want to witness high speed chases and fires that burn down anything in their path. I just want something different. I want to be different also.

I want to be noticed by universities for my talent, the only thing I know how to do. Painting is my life and I will never be noticed here. Even though painting is not a sport it is something special in society. Painting has always been something special though, something that people can look at and really be amazed by the hard work someone put into the picture. It’s a drug to me, I need to paint at least one picture a day. It’s something I just can’t afford to lose. Something I will grasp a hold of and treasure it for the rest of my life. My father’s hands finally release their firm hold against me. I feel safer now even though I will have a hard time falling back to sleep. I don’t want to keep having these dreams.

I feel as though they are telling me a story though, as if soon the sun will fall. The skies will go dark and the world will stop turning. It’s the same dream every night, the same emotions the same everything. In my dream I lay in the middle of a corn field staring up at the stars, the wind blowing in from the west swaying the plants from side to side. I’m wearing a blue dress, almost like something you would wear to prom. A pendant holding a small emerald rest upon my chest, my hands stretched out to my sides. Another breeze flows through the cornfield causing my body to shiver as the night grows colder. I feel another body close to me, in fact there is. In my right palm a hand is interconnected with mine. I’m holding someone’s hand, someone that I am unable to make out. I don’t want to let go though, even though I’m unsure who the other person is I still don’t want to let go. Something inside me tells me not too. I listen to my guts and turn my head toward the sky once more.

That’s when I hear the sound of something flying fast through the skies, I hear a roar so loudly that whoever was next to me let go. Whoever accompanied me left, left me by myself facing the unknown. The roar continued to get louder and closer until a bright light let up somewhere beyond the tall grass. I am unable to see what is happening, I hear an explosion come from in front of me. I hear the sound of a helicopter approaching from somewhere beyond the darkness. An ever ending stream of tracer’s fire down upon the grassy field beyond my view, the ground is vibrating as what appear to be bullets penetrate the soil. I hear screams, they get louder and louder by each growing minute. I hope whoever was with me is safe. A spotlight from the helicopter searches the field. I have no time to hide before the light passes over me.

I covered myself with broken pieces of grass trying to blend into the field. The light shines over me not once but twice continuing to search for whatever else it seeks, and it probably seeks me. Even though this is a dream I can feel the strong sensation that it isn’t, as though this it is actually happening. As soon as the helicopter disappears and the ground ceases to shake I stand, looking around to see the extent of damage. Half of the field is on fire, smoke fills the skies. The screaming that plagued my ears have stopped, I know whoever it was is more and likely dead…gone. I had the false sensation of security, like everything seemed okay when it truly wasn’t.

That is the dream that plagues me, that infects me ceasing to go away. No matter how hard I try to think about something else, it never fails to show up. I use to never dream about it till I got the pendent, the very same pendent in my dream. That is the only thing real, the only part of the dream that is actually reality. When I was seven my father took me to the county fair, I had always wanted to see an exciting environment, for drawling of course. I wanted to know how to capture the emotion and feeling of a real fair. I have to admit, I also wanted to have fun. I remember going to a gypsy, she was old, wrinkly, and quite frankly a little scary looking. Her noise housed several huge moles with little hairs sticking out of them, her eyes were droopy trying to stay open. Her silver hair flowed down toward her shoulders. I was scared to look at her, I could tell my father might have been also.

She sat blocking the entrance that led into her tent, in front of her a glass ball that sat on top of a small square table covered in a black table cover. Both hands placed on the ball with her eyes closed. She almost looked asleep, but she wasn't. The moment we took a step toward her both eyes opened sprung to life staring deep into my eyes. I looked away in fear of what she was going to do or say. She stood up from her chair that held her in place, wearing a red drape dress. My blue eyes made contact with her. I tried to reframe from looking away, to show that I could handle anything…anything. She walked toward me keeping her eyes focused on mine and no one or anything else. I took a step back, she took one forward. No matter how much I moved back she followed until I came to a standstill. My father holding onto my shoulders behind me, I waited for her.

Soon she was so close I could smell her, finally she was only a few feet away from me. She stood so close I could feel her breathing. She reached into her pocket pulling out a small pendant, the very same one I wear today. Her hand extended out toward me, as if she was giving me a gift, which she was. I turned my head back to look into my father’s eyes, he smiled and nodded as I reached out to retrieve the pendant. She was so cold it felt like my hand had touched the body of a dead person. The moment I had the grasp around the small pendant I yanked my hand back. I looked down at my palm, it stung so badly but from what I didn’t know. My father and I turned around walking away from her tent. Funny because the whole time we were there not one word was said. Until we had started walking away, I heard her but he didn’t.

Oh darling daughter of Adam, daughter of eve, you are different from everyone else little girl. I hope you find the others someday….

I turned to look back at her while we walked away, my father talking to himself not noticing I wasn’t paying any attention. When we finally returned home I had already put the pendant around my neck. My palm was still burning on my right hand, I hadn’t bothered to look at it until then. I closed the door to my room, turning on the ceiling fan along with the light. I reached my hand out in front of me turning it so my palm faced me, I was shocked with what I saw. Three figures seemed engraved into my skin all lining up by each other facing the floor in a diagonal fashion. They looked like three crescent moons, I ran my index finger from my left hand over them. They lit up in whitish glow, I could feel no bumps or anything of that sort though.

I wanted to scream but I didn’t, I wasn’t sure of what they were, until now. I’m sixteen years old now, I was seven when I noticed it. Eight when I finally figured out what they symbolized, and ten when I found the first of them. My name is Aulani, there are three others like me. Three others who have abilities you could only dream of, we are an evolved version of you. The world around you is changing, people are being born with powers. The kind of powers you would think of in cartoons, telekinesis, going invisible, freezing time just to name a few. We do exist, the three of us two which remain a mystery to me are unknown. I know one is in Florida, I will find him. The government knows about us also, they want to wipe us out. I’m currently living in Michigan. I will need to find the others before we are all dead.