Young Writers Society

PROLOGUE

The crackle of thunder pierced the air as the rain poured from above. I’m sitting on the roof, absorbing each freezing drop of water as it finds me. With each exhale, the mist of life escapes me. I’m soaked, but I love it. Out here, on the rough shingles of an aging home, I can think. My mind can clear. The black hair on my head falls flat and sticks to my forehead. I can feel the cold deep in my bones, but this is my only escape. Out here, looking on the white glow of the moon and the wild forest at the end of the street, I feel alive. On most nights, I relax out here, after the rest of the house has fallen asleep. By now, I have memorized every detail of the landscape, from the dim streetlamps to the mossy stone fence at the tree line.

Soon, the desire to enter the warmth and submit to the draw of my pillow became too strong and I return to my worn room. Stealthily shutting the window and changing into dry clothes, I close my eyes and fall into a restless slumber. I have never really slept well, but as I tossed and turned in the sheets, my mind had brought me into a dream. I love dreams. They’re an escape from the harsh reality I’ve come to know. This, however, is an unwelcome terror. I found myself in a familiar land, one I’ve visited in dreams before. It is like earth, but in the time of adventurers and monsters. This medieval world had been one I’ve come to love, but now something about it feels different.

In the dream, I found myself on a hill covered in darkness except for the pale moonbeams. It is strange. It feels off, but I’m not sure why. As I looked around, a dark fog began to appear at my ankles, swirling around until it is all I can see. This definitely isn’t normal and I didn’t like it. Out of nowhere, a pair of glowing purple eyes flashed into the darkness. Before I could understand, I awoke with a start to the most annoying sound in the world: my alarm clock. It’s time for me to go back into a world I loathe.

As I prepared mentally for another horrible day in the cruel environment they call high school, I could hear the footsteps of my sister getting ready in her room. Felicity is a straight A student. She always put extra effort into her work and the teachers were impressed by it. She loved school, and who could blame her? Every teacher adored her, she is a main actress for the theater department, and her whole life is perfect. Well, aside from being a foster kid. Both Felicity and I are foster children, and we aren’t technically related. We have been together for nearly thirteen years now and she is the closest thing I’ve ever had to family, so I think of us as siblings.

It is strange that we’ve been put together for so long. Usually, we were in one home for two or three years until the foster parents decided I’m too brooding to handle or I’ve gotten into too many fights with the other kids, but wherever I went, Felicity followed. I’ve always thought it was because we had the same social services worker, Mr. Fleming, but when I turned sixteen, Mr. Fleming moved back to his home to look after his sickly father. Since then, we’ve lived with the awful Goldans in this rickety house. The paint peeled, the pipes leaked… it all is just horrible.

I want out. I want to get away from all of it, except Felicity. Luckily, I only have to wait two more weeks until I turn eighteen and became my own guardian. Felicity is out of the system a month after me, but we’ve agreed we will both break away as soon as we can. I think of myself as very lucky to have Felicity in my life. Without her, I wouldn’t be able to survive on my own. She took care of me, unlike everyone else.

Now ready to get to school, with Felicity’s hair dryer running in the background, I head out early for school. I want to get there before everyone else. Well maybe not everyone else… Just Lex. Lex is the school bully. He is one of the meanest looking seniors you could think of. Gnarled teeth, scar under the left eye, Russian accent. The whole nine yards. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. Lex was intimidating and rough though. He was one of the main reasons school had become insufferable.

Before my parents went and died on me, I loved to learn. I had friends. I had a life. Now I’m stuck in a system that doesn’t care about me, with a family that wouldn’t notice if I went missing, in a world that doesn’t know I exist. I wish I could go back to when they were still here, but that’s not something people can do. When you lose somebody, they’re gone. They’ve ditched you and gone to whichever afterlife you believe in.

As I make the pilgrimage to school, I can feel the autumn leaves crunching under my feet. The Earth seems to turn slowly for the next half a mile. People whiz by on their daily commute. Suckers, living with a purpose. Right now, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m only focused on my escape, nothing else mattering. I’ll take each wave as it hits me and try not to drown in the ocean of life. Some kids dream of being president, astronauts, or doctors, but I just want to be free. Live how I want with the people I choose. Nobody else telling me who I’m supposed to be. Only me being me how I want to be.