Eranithia: Prophecies: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jennifer walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later; sleeping in meant a rushed shower. Mark was already sitting at the breakfast table, writing in a spiral notebook.

“Good morning,” Mark said rather dryly after glancing up at her. As if she were a distraction from his writing.

"Hey," she said ignoring the way he'd greeted her. It was a typical morning greeting from him. “Workin' on one of your stories?”

“Yeah, it's part of my Hinraw series.”

“Can I read one sometime?” she asked.

He looked up at her, confused. Jennifer's question caught him off guard as he was unaccustomed to Jennifer showing any interest in his writing.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug, then went back to writing.

As Jennifer sat down at the kitchen table, she noticed Mark was wearing his typical T-shirt and jeans, and most likely his Converse All-Stars. He never wore a shirt with print, but always a solid color, usually black or white. Jennifer had bought him some other colors as a birthday present a couple months ago. Sometimes he wore them, but usually he stuck with his white or black shirts. Today, Mark wore white.

Taking notice of her own clothes, Jennifer saw that she was wearing similar clothes as her brother. Blue jeans, although hers weren't loose fitting like his. Jennifer's were more form fitting. She also wore a white, short sleeved shirt, with “CUTE” written across the front in glittery writing. Other than the glitter, they both had dressed similarly. Why was Jennifer suddenly taking so much more notice of their similarities? She had no idea. Then her attention was distracted by a news story on the television of a boy lost in the woods...

It wasn't until the reporter said, "Seth," that Mark's attention was brought to the television. The reporter was interviewing a teenage girl on the small television screen. She looked familiar to him, but he couldn't figure out why.

"We were camping like we have every year with our grandpa and when I woke up this morning he was gone. He was just gone. He didn't say anything, he just left while we were sleeping. We've searched for hours, but still can't find him anywhere," she cried, tears trickling down her face.

As she spoke she grew more familiar to him. The long dark hair, the fair skin, and those eyes. Those bright blue eyes. They were what triggered his memory. She looked exactly like the girl in his dream the night before! The camera transitioned to the right and an old man came on the screen.

Mark caught Jennifer flinching out of the corner of his eye. Looking over at her, Mark saw that she was staring at the television as if she unexpectedly recognized at someone she knew. Did she recognize the girl too? Or was it the old man? He wondered all this to himself as he watched her.

When Jennifer looked over at Mark, he could see she wore the same shocked expression he knew had been on his face a minute ago. Their silent exchange was interrupted by their mother setting plates of waffles down in front of them.

Halfway to school, Mark couldn't keep quiet about the incident at breakfast any longer. Something about what they saw was itching to get out.

So he blurted out, "I had a strange dream last night."

Mark saw Jennifer stiffen for a second, but she was a good liar so she went on as if she hadn't.

"Oh yeah?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah," he continued in a tone similar to the one she used. "I was in this strange forest and there was this girl there."

"Do I really need to be hearing about a dream about girls?" she asked sarcastically.

Rolling his eyes and grinning, he said, "It wasn't that kind of dream. The girl in that news report about the missing boy looked almost exactly like her."

"Hmm," she said placing her arm on her door as she twirled her hair in her fingers.

Mark knew she was only pretending not to be interested.

"You had a dream too," Mark said after a long silence. He stared at her, trying to figure out why she was ignoring this.

Jennifer wouldn't look at Mark, but he could feel the tension building. Being twins, they had that special, nearly telekinetic, connection. Especially since they still had a fairly close relationship.

She pulled into the vast school parking lot that would soon be full of cars. Most belonging to spoiled rich kids who didn't take care of their vehicles themselves. Jennifer was among the few students who actually took care of their vehicles themselves, with their own money they earned from part-time jobs. The deal Jennifer's parents had made with her required, holding a job to pay for her own oil changes and gas, and they would make the big payments.

Mark observed Jennifer's glazed over eyes. Looking around at the slowly filling student parking lot, he knew where her thoughts were. The selfishness of their fellow students and the “toys” their parents gave them. But there were more important things to think about at the moment. At least, from Mark's perspective.

"I saw the look on your face when the old man came on, Jen. You recognized him like I recognized the girl."

"What are you talking about?"

She was annoyed, which told Mark he was right. He would take full advantage of this invitation she'd given him to explain. He also knew she was kicking herself for asking.

"Jen, you know you can't lie to me. Come on, just tell me. I told you about my dream. What did you dream?"

She whipped into a parking space quicker than he'd expected, throwing him into his door. Then she looked at him and snapped at him, saying, "Look, I don't know why the old man looked familiar. Okay? Let's just drop it. We were seeing things, that's all." She was harsh, and meant to be, but it was the only way to get him to stop, even if it wasn't a permanent solution.

Mark accepted his temporary defeat and walked in silence onto the school grounds. When they were about to go their separate ways, Jennifer did something out of the ordinary. She stopped, turned and hugged him.

When Jennifer pulled away, he gawked at her, completely caught off guard.

"What? I can't hug my brother?" she asked, readjusting her backpack on her shoulder.

"But you never do at school."

"I know," she said awkwardly, looking at her hands as she picked at her fingernails. "I'm sorry for snapping at you before."

"It's okay. I wasn't backing off.”

"It doesn't make it right."

Mark grinned and shrugged his shoulders, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets, "It's no big deal. I know you love me. Whether you yell at me or not, I know that won't change."

Smiling, she left to join her friends at the lunch tables in the center of the quad. Mark went his separate way to find his friends who gathered together at the benches along the perimeter of the quad. Every once in a while he would look over at his sister and smile. It'd been a while since they'd shown each other any affection.

Deep down, Mark wished they could hang out more. But they both existed in such different, clashing worlds. In high school, there was no such thing as compromise. Popular kids had their world, ruling the school, and the rest were not to disrupt that rule with their odd tastes and hobbies. So, until there was a new world to live in, where the type of music you listened to or the kind of sports you played didn't hold merit, Mark and Jennifer would continue to be forced apart.

At lunch later that day, Mark stood in the long line to get his food. While he waited, he pulled out the book he was currently reading. Just as he was getting lost yet again in a fantasy world, he heard a girl's voice calling his name.

Turning his head, Mark searched for the voice. It wasn't often a girl spoke to him, let alone called his name from across the quad. Then he saw Jennifer walking with her friends, waving at him. Smiling back, Mark waved but then he saw her friends whispering. His heart sank for a moment. He wondered if things would ever change with them. Then Jennifer stopped abruptly and turned on them, chewing them out in his defense.

One thing Mark loved about his sister was that no matter what, she was always loyal to the ones she loved. And it was that characteristic that kept her popular amongst her friends. It wasn't just her good looks. Yes, she was beautiful, but she was also kind to everyone. She was popular but didn't act the part.

With a sigh Mark continued reading his book, but even as he did he sensed danger coming. He tried to ignore it, but suddenly the book was swatted out of his hands, and there stood a familiar chunky kid in baggy black jeans and black T-shirt with the artwork of a death-metal band on it.

"Time to pay up, nerd," Rene greeted him in the typical fashion.

Rene's usual four friends, dressed in similar attire, stood behind him, snickering as if he had just said something funny. Mark would normally sigh at their lack of originality, but now wasn't the time for such things.

Mark stared back at the bully without showing any fear.

I wonder if stupidity has as much to do with being in charge as size in the bully world? Mark thought, repressing a laugh.

Mark continued to stare back at his adversary. That always meant a challenge. But Mark didn't care today. Something in him told him to stand up despite his fears. He'd been refusing to pay Rene for the past two weeks anyway, but today felt different than other days. Maybe it was his dream, or the girl in his dream. Something about this day in particular seemed to heighten his courage.

"Did you hear me, nerd? I said pay up," the bully threatened, taking a step forward and clenching his fists, a blood thirsty smile spreading across his face. Mark knew this meant he was receiving a beating, whether he paid up or not.

"I heard you just fine, Rene,” Mark said as if turning down a business deal, “but I'm kind of hungry today. So I think I'll just keep my money. Thanks for stopping by though. It's always good to see you," he patted the much bigger boy on the chest.

Mark knew he was in bigger trouble than before now. For one, sarcasm was lost on the thug; he only knew it was being used based on the snickering of the other kids around him. Due to his lack of a sense of humor, sarcasm angered him when it was used against him. Mark knew and enjoyed this simple fact about Rene. He always figured that Rene got upset when reminded about his lack of intelligence.

Mark's other mistake was calling Rene by his first name. Rene hated his name. Even though it was spelled differently, it still sounded like a girl's name more than a boy's. Rene resented his parents for choosing this name. Mark wondered if it was the root of Rene's aggressive behavior towards others.

Mark saw Rene's goons trying not to laugh at Mark's use of their leader's name. He couldn't help but grin. Then he made the mistake of bending down to pick up his book. By doing so, he'd let his guard down.

Rene grabbed him. One hand on the back of his neck, the other on his shirt. Mark didn't try to fight it. He knew he was heading for the ground as Rene shoved him toward his lackeys. Instead of trying to stop it, Mark took it in a roll, stopping at the feet of the four other guys in Rene's gang. Something he'd learned long ago was how to soften the blow. It was a defensive move, but effective.

Rene stood over him fuming, face red with anger. Other kids began to circle around them, anticipating a beating.

It was common knowledge that if anybody ever stood up to Rene and ever ended up in his hands, they never left without some kind of pain. Mark was becoming the most frequent target. He was up to almost once a week, but only because he could usually outrun Rene and his gang.

Rene had chosen Mark early on as his favorite victim. Rene was a year older than everyone in their grade, and for years that had given him an edge. He'd always been bigger and stronger.

Mark remembered when Rene first started going to school with them in third grade. He'd moved into town a lonely, angry kid. He must have been angry with his parents for taking him away from his former friends and school, where he may have been doing just fine. Then they brought him to this strange, new place. So his first defense was to go on the offensive. Since he was bigger than everyone it was easy for him to set up his rule.

Mark looked up and saw everyone pointing and laughing, even the underclassmen. He understood why, though, and didn't hold it against them. If they showed their support to Rene, they stood a better chance of surviving. He might even leave them alone. Mark never fell into that fear. He always stood his ground, or ran. Usually, he ran.

Two of Rene's henchmen picked him up and held him by the arms so Rene could pound on him until he gave up his money. Mark wondered where the school faculty could possibly be. Seeing as none were showing up, he knew he had to somehow defend himself. So he decided to try something. When Rene was close enough Mark jumped up, lifting both legs into the air, kicking Rene square in the chest, sending him crashing into the steel railing. This not only caught Rene off guard but sent him tumbling to the ground. There was a moment of dead silence due to the unexpected turn of events. The suddenly cheers erupted from the following students. Finally! Someone had stood up to Rene and knocked him on his butt!

As Rene was tumbling back, the two holding Mark let him go before his feet could hit the ground. Mark fell with a thud. The blow from meeting the cement momentarily knocked the wind right out of him. He sat up slowly to see Rene still on the ground, so hurrying to his feet, still in a slight daze, Mark ran straight through the cheering crowd of students, heading for the back of the school where there were more places to hide.

Somebody nudged Jennifer and pointed at the crowd of people at the lunch line. She stood on the seat of her lunch table to see what was going on. When she saw her brother held by two of Rene's thugs she wanted to help him. But then something happened that she wasn't expecting. Her jaw dropped as she watched Mark kick Rene to the ground. She was shocked, yet glad, that he was finally defending himself. Then she watched as he started running. Rene and his gang were delayed in running after him by their shock.

Jennifer took advantage of their hesitation, dropping to the ground and running after Mark. The delay wasn't as much as she'd hoped since Rene's gang was already gaining on her as she made the turn towards the gym. Picking up her pace, she kept looking back at Rene. She imagined him tripping. Then she heard a jumbled mess of bodies falling behind her.

I hope that wasn't me, she thought. She didn't bother looking back to see the damage.

Then, being as athletic as she was, she caught Mark quickly as he turned the corner, passing the pool, to head for the locker rooms.

"Mark, stop!" she called after him.

Mark turned as she caught up with him. Jennifer could see the fear in his eyes, but she couldn't remember a time she had been more proud of him, and because of that she wanted to stay by his side and fight Rene and the others if it came to that.

"What?" he asked, his chest heaving from running and the adrenaline surging through his veins.

She knew he was thinking of hiding.

"Stand up to them. You've already shown that you can. He's scared now, Mark. Take advantage of it!"

"Did he follow me?" he asked nervously, ignoring her encouragements to fight.

"Not right away. I think they were a little surprised at you. They all tripped before I caught you. It was really weird,” she said, then shaking her head she came back to her senses, saying, “But you stood up for yourself!"

Jennifer stared at her brother, trying to read him. All she could see was his fear. It was disheartening.

"Look, he's on the defensive, Mark. He's afraid to show that he can be stopped."

"I don't think so," Mark said, and started for the P.E. locker rooms again. She grabbed his hand and stopped him. "What are you doing?" he asked half angry, half scared.

"I'm not letting you run from him again. I'll stand up to him with you."

Flabbergasted, Mark stared at her like she was crazy. But suddenly he felt like something was biting or pinching his arms and legs. Looking at his arms, where the feeling seemed to be strongest, he couldn't see anything. The irritation grew stronger and the only thing he could think of to make it feel better was to swat at his skin.

Jennifer must have been feeling the same thing because she was beginning to swat at her own arms. Then she tried pulling away from him.

“Let go!” she said screaming.

“You let go!”

“You're the one holding on!”

“No I'm not!”

Their hands seemed to be glued together. There was no way to pull apart from each other. Then the world around them began tearing apart, piece by piece, like a movie screen in a twister. All thoughts of separation vanished. Scared out of their minds, they moved closer together, squeezing their hands tighter. Little by little they no longer saw the wrought iron fence and cement posts enclosing the swimming pool. Replacing the surroundings of their high school, a forest began to materialize. A familiar forest. As if from a dream they'd had...then all went black.