I had awoken to the pale sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. I looked around at my foreign surroundings in an early morning stupor. It took me a moment to remember that this was now home. That it had become so less than twenty-four hours earlier.

    The empty window seat was unfamiliar to me, as was the beautiful, mahogany writing desk that my step-father had so kindly bought me as a welcoming gift. I still had a few things of mine that made me feel a little bit more at home; like my bookshelves and art supplies. The two bookshelves were lined with all of my favorite books, movies, and music collections. It gave me comfort to see them and made me feel less like a stranger in a foreign world.

    What didn't give me comfort was what I saw sitting in the chair that went with my mahogany writing desk. A young man who couldn't be much older than me sat in the chair, looking at my laptop that was sitting on top of the desk with a strange curiosity. He had thick, dark hair that came to his shoulders. He had on black pants (like those that you might see on the pirates in the movies) and boots to match. He wore a white, long-sleeved shirt that was much looser than the pants. Even if it was looser and almost came to his knees, it didn't even try to hide his well-toned muscles. But his clothes weren't the only weird thing about his appearance; his whole body was pale and almost ethereal, as if he could disappear at any second.

    I was so distracted by the unknown intruder that I didn't even notice the time. I quickly glanced away from the stranger to the digital clock that sat on the desk behind him; it read "7:00 AM". That meant that I had less than fifteen minutes to get dressed and ready before my step-brother went to school without me.

    I jumped out of my bed with a cry and ran into the bathroom that adjoined to my bedroom. I felt the stranger's eyes on me as I ran, but I had more important things to worry about; like keeping my perfect attendance record-just because I was at a new place didn't mean that I could slack off. I would deal with the pirate dude later after school.

    I rushed back into my room; now fully dressed and cleaned up. I was slightly disappointed and slightly relieved that the stranger was gone. As I picked up my book bag, I tried to convince myself that I was just seeing things due to lack of sleep. Between the jet lag and the restlessness that sleeping in a new place brings, I was pretty worn out.

    I made it downstairs, to where my step-brother, Seth, was waiting patiently. He stood at the entryway to the house; leaning against the door, holding it wide open. In his hands, he was holding a pretty good sized novel. His light brown hair came past his shoulders as his green eyes glanced up at me. He sported a loose jacket that was colored black and green; our school colors. The blue jeans he wore had come pre-ripped at the knee. On his feet he wore a knock-off brand of Pumas.

    You wouldn't be able to tell it if you just passed him in the hallways at school, but he was a very avid reader. He's also the quarterback of the football team and very likely the favorite candidate for Prom King. His father had also instilled in him gentleman-like manners ever since he was a young boy. He never let a girl open her own door, which was really hard to get used to for me.

    "You ready?" he asked as he closed his book. I only nodded and walked onto the porch that wrapped around the two-story house. He followed me silently, closing the door behind him and then quickly running in front of me to the Saturn. He'd known that I would forget and open my own door; he wouldn't allow that. "Are you nervous about your first day?" he asked after he had slid into the driver's seat and started the car.

    "A little bit," I admitted after a moment. "But I've done this many times before, so it won't be too bad."

    "You moved around a lot?" he asked, making conversation.

    "Yeah," I answered. "My dad's job required us to move around a lot." I am not exactly sure what my dad did for a living, but he would always move us to some old town or ancient house; 'for his job'. For some reason unknown to me, he had recently decided that I should have a stable home environment for the last few years of high school. So, he sent me to live with my mother and step-dad.

    "So this will be as easy as breathing for you, huh?" he joked. I could tell that he was nervous and was trying his best not to alienate me. I had to give him kudos; if I'd been in his shoes, I would have totally ignored me. I was forcing myself into an already-made family. I was completely invading the house that he, his father, and my mother had spent years to build. And it wasn't for just one of those occasional, random weekend visits; I was here to stay.

    "Yeah, something like that," I smiled at him. Neither of us could come up with anything else to say, so we drove in an awkward silence until we reached the school. Seth parked the car in one of the few open parking spaces that were left and I took a deep breath; preparing myself for what was to come. The school parking lot was already pretty packed; even for a small town.

    "You ready?" Seth asked as he opened my door for me again. I grabbed my book bag and quickly jumped out.

    "As I'll ever be," I answered with a nervous smile. He returned the smile and we made our way to the school; he continued to open every door that stood in my way.

    "You'll do great," he promised with a wink as he dropped me off at the administrative office. I smiled at his as he disappeared into a sea of students, before I entered the office to get some papers and classes straightened out.

    I walked into the administrative office to find that it was quite warmer than the rest of the school. There was a fan sitting by the doorway that was blowing onto a desk that was covered in papers, files, and whatnot. "Um, hello," I said, unsure if anyone was really in the room.

    "Oh, hi, dearie," a voice came from the overflowing piles. I carefully edged closer to the messy desk to find a woman who looked to be in her mid-forties sitting behind it. She had dark, brown hair that was beginning to grey and it came down to the middle of her back. Behind her glasses, she had brilliant blue eyes. "You must be Anna Elizabeth," she said, probably very aware of the whole situation with my family. "Welcome to Northanger Valley."

2: Rumor Has It

    I have survived thus far; that's what I kept telling myself every time I almost passed my classroom or forgot my locker combination. I was grateful that my fellow students were very helpful, though, if it wasn't for them I wouldn't have survived that much.

    A very perky brunette, named Emma Young, came and helped me figure out where my classes were seeing as she was also in half of them anyways. A shy and quiet Bethany Rivers helped me with the other half as she was also in those classes. Emma and Bethany had been close friends since childhood and had decided that they needed to take on a group project; that project being me. At least, that's what Emma told me as we made our way through the line at lunch.

    "We needed to shake things up a bit, you know, make school a little less boring," Emma explained as she picked through the choices for lunch. "And you needed someone to help you with your classes and show you the ropes. It's all working out perfectly." She squealed this out in delight as she picked up an apple and placed it on her tray.

    "Well, I am quite grateful to you guys," I said, unsure of how I was to respond to that exactly. Turns out that I didn't even really need to respond, because Emma then began to tell me about the entire goings on in the students' lives. She pointed out every student as we made our way to the table Bethany was sitting at. Bethany had pulled her pretty, blond hair out of her face so she could eat and catch up on the book we were reading for history.

    "I guess I don't need to tell you anything about Seth," Emma winked at me as we sat down. "You are so lucky," she sighed before she took a bite of the school's cardboard tasting French-fries. "You are living under the same roof as the Seth Valentine. He is amazing."

    "He is pretty amazing," I shrugged. I couldn't see him the same way that she could. I also couldn't see him as a brother, either; more like that long distant cousin that I only got to see a few times a year. "He reads like no one I've ever seen before."

    "Really?" Bethany asked suddenly, her blue eyes were alight as she stared at me.

    "Yeah," I answered her with a smile. "He can start a pretty good sized novel and have it finished in just a few hours."

    "Wow," Bethany exclaimed. She got a faraway look in her eyes. "That is pretty amazing." Then, she went back to her history book.

    "Has he told you anything about Simon?" Emma asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

    "Who's Simon?" I asked as I tried to mask the cardboard taste of the French-fries with salt.

    "Who's Simon?" she repeated as if I had just committed a great sin. "Who's Simon? Simon Hugo is like this major hottie with muscles in all the right places and black hair that is not too long, but long enough," she gushed, forgetting all about her French-fries. "Oh and his eyes; he has these electric green eyes that are absolutely gorgeous. I just want to eat him up." Her brown eyes also got a faraway look in them as she started fantasizing or whatever it was she was doing in that brain of hers.

    "That's . . . cool," I said quietly, unsure of what I was to say once again.

    "Oh, he's cool," Emma said passionately. "He's too cool. He totally ignores all the girls here; and trust me, the girls are not easily ignored and a lot of them are really beautiful, too. We all suspect that he has a girlfriend in a college out of state."

    "Why would Seth have told me about him?" I asked, recalling her previous question that got the whole conversation started.

    "He and Seth are like best buds," she explained, her eyes alight. "They have been since elementary school and they've stayed the best of friends up until now, even though Simon isn't on the football team."

    As the words left her mouth, the lunch room broke out into a commotion. I looked up in surprise to find everyone either making their way to the doorway or watching it intently. I looked around at my table and found that both girls were also staring at the doorway. Emma was on the edge of her seat, waiting for whatever was going to happen. Bethany simply stared, obviously used to this sort of commotion.

    I was forced to join them and turn towards the doorway. Everything went calm for a moment; everyone was tense as the seconds passed. The calm, however, was gone before it had even really come and a storm had taken its place. The students broke out in cheers as the entire football team entered the room. But in the lead was not one of their teammates, no; it was a handsome young man with black hair that just barely reached the collar of his jacket. And his electric green eyes were staring straight into mine.

3: Take Your Medicine

    I quickly averted my gaze from the electric green eyes and looked into a slightly softer, more familiar pair of green eyes. Once Seth had realized that he had caught my attention, he gave me a big grin; which I returned easily. I could feel Emma's growing anticipation as the football team began to go their separate ways and Seth made his way to our table; electric green eyes close on his heels.

    "Hey, Anna," Seth said as he plopped down next to me and stole one of my cardboard French fries. "Emma, Bethany," he nodded in their direction before turning back to me. "So, how's your first day?"

    "Pretty good, so far," I answered with a smile. "Luckily Emma and Bethany have been here to help me out." As I spoke, I was very aware of Simon hovering behind Seth; his eyes staring in my direction. I was also aware of Emma trying really hard to contain herself and Bethany eating her food with an unusual calmness about her.

    "Really?" Seth exclaimed. "Well, then I really must thank you girls for taking care of Anna for me." He gave the girls one of his trademark killer smiles and I had to fight a sigh as the girls became flustered.

    "Uh-huh," Emma squeaked in response, her eyes went wide and she kept glancing back and forth between Seth and me.

    "No problem," Bethany answered in a more refined manner, her cheeks tinted pink. "We really enjoy her company." After that, she kept her eyes on her food; never looking up, I guessed for fear that the pink tint would grow.

    "Oh, Simon," Seth said as if he had just remembered his friend being there. "This is Anna, the one I've been telling you about."

    "It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Taylor," Seth's friend said with a friendly smile. As I looked into his green eyes, I couldn't shake the feeling that something just didn't feel right about him, but I could figure out what.

    "Nice to meet you, as well, Mr. Hugo," I smiled back. "I've heard many things about you."

    "Good things, I hope?" he asked laughingly, but his eyes were wary as he looked at me.

    "Nothing but," I answered with an easy laugh. I hadn't known that he had been so tense the whole time he had been standing at our table, but I noticed after he visibly relaxed.

    "How do you like Northanger Valley?" Simon asked politely.

    "I like the parts that I've seen so far," I answered honestly. "Of course, there is not much to dislike about the house and the school."

    "I could think of a few things to dislike about school," Simon jokingly argued. "But I can agree with you on the Valentine house; there's something so homey about that place."

    "Maybe it just feels that way to you, because you're there more than you are at your own home," Seth laughed. "Come on, let's stop badgering the girls and let them finish their meal."

       "See ya," they gave their farewell as they went to join the lunch line. I took a deep breath and turned back to Emma and Bethany.

    "What were we talking about before?" I asked, honestly having forgotten what was said before the commotion.

    "OMG," Emma gushed. "Seth Valentine and Simon Hugo were at our table. And you talked to them! I could barely get a word out; I was so awestruck." Sigh. "They are so fine."

    "I also have a hard time speaking around them," Bethany admitted quietly. Her ability to look up from her lunch had returned, but her cheeks still hadn't completely returned to their normal coloring. "They seem so friendly and open, yet at the same time as if they belong to a completely different world."

    "Yeah," I nodded, understanding where she was coming from. "I felt that way when I first met Seth."

    "How did you get over it?" Bethany asked, looking interested as she took a bite of her apple.

    "Well, it was a few years ago when I was here for one my summer visits," I said, setting the timeline of the story. "That summer, there had been a really bad storm that had left a lot of the townspeople homeless for a few days as the community was repairing their houses. Mom and Samuel, my step-dad, were down at the homeless shelter helping their neighbors with whatever it was that they needed. During this time, Seth had come down with this awful bug and I was the only one left to take care of him."

    I paused for a moment as the memories came flooding back to me. I recalled the events of that day and shuddered; it wasn't just a measly little bug that he had caught, it was something much more severe. I remembered him getting paler as the day progressed and taking his temperature to find that it was alarmingly high. I became scared when he stopped drinking the liquids that I tried to give him and I called the parents. I tried and tried, but I couldn't get through to them, so I did the next thing that I could think of and called the ambulance.

    "Then, what happened?" Emma asked a bit impatiently as I had stopped in the middle of my story.

    "Oh, it was a lot worse than we had expected," I answered. "I ended up calling an ambulance and taking him to the hospital."

    "Oh my goodness," Emma exclaimed. "Was he okay? Did he make it?"

    "You were just looking at him, what do you think?" I answered her with a laugh.

    "Oh, right," she said with a sheepish laugh of her own. "How did that change how you look at him?"

    "It made me realize that he was the same as me," I responded. "His life is no less fragile or more invincible than mine."

    "You saved his life," Bethany pointed out. "He might have died if it hadn't been for you."

    "OMG," Emma exclaimed again. "You are my hero. On behalf of every girl in this room, I thank you for saving the life of a major hottie." She was so excited that she wrapped me into a bone-crushing hug.

    "Trust me, I don't deserve acknowledgement for that," I said, still laughing. "I just did what anyone else in my place would have done."

    "Still," Emma answered seriously. "If you hadn't of done that, we wouldn't be able to enjoy his presence every day. And trust me, it is quite enjoyable." She said all this with a straight face. Once she had finished, though, all three of us began to crack up.

    "That's true," Bethany agreed. Her face was red; half from laughing and half from the blush that had crept up. I smiled at my two new friends and thought that I might really enjoy living in Northanger Valley.

4: The Start of Something Good

    I survived the first day at a new school, once again. I was still attempting to grasp the fact that this was it; I was here to stay for the next two or three years at the least. The people I met today, the friends I acquired, the teachers I passed in the hallways; I was going to see a lot of them.

    As Emma and Bethany dropped me off at the house (Seth had to stay after school for football practice), I realized that this was likely to become routine-something that I hadn't had since Mom left with Samuel and Seth. I was going to be able to go to bed at a set time without worrying that I might have to wake up unexpectedly at some awful hour in the morning because Dad had another 'job offer'. I would be able to spend enough time with someone to actually become friends with them, instead of not getting too close to anybody because I know that I would lose them in a few months. Yeah, I thought to myself that I could definitely get used to this.

    Of course that revelation didn't stop that growing homesickness that I felt whenever I remembered that I had no idea where my father was at the moment. Even though the constant moving had its consequences, I enjoyed the thought of the two of us taking the world together. And after years of staying in ancient houses and sometimes cramped apartments, we had gotten closer than most parents and children were.

    My heart was with him, wherever he was, as I entered my second-story bedroom in Northanger Valley. Memories of the long hours on the road flowed through my brain as I slipped Shinedown's album Sound of Madness: Deluxe Edition into the DVD drive of my laptop; the words that played were the words we sang as we fought to stay awake in the dead of night.

    My reminiscing had to be cut short, though, as the pile of homework that I had thrown on the hardwood floor was calling my name. I sat down on the floor in front of my twin bed and began to work through the pile. I had left the album on repeat as I did my homework and I finished the work about halfway through the second round of the CD.

    When I was done with the homework, I cleared the floor and then covered it with old newspapers. I pulled an old, stained long-sleeved shirt and a pair of stained jeans out of my box of clothes that sat at the bottom of my closet. I set paint and paint brushes on the newspaper; followed by a roll of paper towels and the canvas.

    I had no idea what I had planned on painting, but as soon as the brush was in my hand it had a mind of its own. My mind was enveloped in the paint and the scene that was slowly starting to form on the canvas. I had the faint sensation that someone was watching me as I worked, but I couldn't manage to tear myself away long enough to check my surroundings.

    "Done," I whispered to myself as I looked down at the finished project. The scene that had made its way to the canvas was a touching one; a young girl holding on to her father's hand with all her might as she looked on at the millions of children that she was sure would eat her.

    "It's beautiful," I heard an unfamiliar voice say behind me. My eyes were wide and my heart was somewhere in my throat as I turned around to face the intruder. I was surprised to find same stranger that I had imagined this morning; the pirate with the nice hair and strange fixation with my laptop. I was also surprised by his electric green eyes that stared at me; the electric green eyes that had an eerily resemblance to Simon Hugo's.

    "W-who are you?" I asked, attempting to sound brave as I held up a paintbrush in a defensive stance. Realizing how stupid I looked, I lowered the brush.

    "I am not here to hurt you," the stranger said, putting his hands up in surrender. I could see hurt in his scary, electric green eyes. "I just wanted to see who has chosen to occupy my room. I definitely didn't expect you to hear me."

    I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the intruder. I knew that I hadn't been there for long, but I was pretty sure that the room was mine and that Samuel or Mom or someone would have mentioned something to me about a roommate.

    "So, you live here?" was the only question that I could come up with and after I said it the stranger started to chuckle. Smart, Anna, real smart; you've already embarrassed yourself. I could feel the blush of humiliation creep up my neck.

    "No," the stranger answered with a breathtaking smile. "I don't live here, per say." He could have said that before he laughed at me.

    "Then, what are you doing here?" I asked, honestly confused. "Did Mom and Samuel rent this room out to you or something?"

    "No," he laughed again. I really wasn't getting the joke, but I was getting really tired of it. "I don't live anywhere."

    "So, you're a hobo?" I asked, still not getting it. This time, it was he who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

    "What's a hobo?" he asked in sincerity. I couldn't help it as my eyes widened and my brain began to find some way to explain it to him.

    "Like a traveler or vagabond," I said slowly, attempting to describe it. "Usually a hobo is poor and looking for work, or at least they used to be. Now, they just sit on the street sides and beg for money."

    "I'm not a hobo," he answered quickly. "But I guess you could say that I am a traveler of sorts."

    "That still doesn't explain what you're doing here, in my bedroom," I gave a frustrated sigh.

    "I came to visit you," he answered as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

    "You came to visit me?" I asked, my annoyance showing in my voice. "I don't even know you. Who are you?"

    "Alexander Slater," he answered, taking me by surprise. "But I go by Alex most of the time. What's your name?"

    "Anna," I said quietly. "Anna Taylor."

    "Anna," he whispered to himself, as if he was trying it out. Then, his electric green eyes looked straight into mine, startling me. "Well, Anna, it was nice meeting you, but I've got to run. See you, soon. I hope." And with that he disappeared. He just disappeared; he didn't walk out the door or even jump out the window*. He completely vanished into thin air and I was left staring at the empty space he once occupied.

5: Music to My Ears

I was so shocked by his disappearance that I totally forgot about the painting and didn't hear Seth and Simon as they drove into the driveway. I didn't even sense them as they came barreling up the stairs.

"Yo, Taylor," a voice said, finally pulling me out of my shock. I turned to the door to find Simon looking in worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, for real," Seth added as he stood beside Simon. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." That caused me to laugh; a shaky laugh, but still a laugh.

"Yeah, no," I answered as I faked a smile. "I'm fine. I just got a little lost in my thoughts for a moment."

"Did you paint that?" Simon asked, changing the subject and entering my room. He dropped on his knees beside me on the floor and stared at the canvas in wonder.

"Um, yeah," I answered intelligently as I turned around and looked at the long since forgotten painting.

"It's beautiful," he said. That was the second time I had heard that in the last hour and it stunned me into silence. He turned to look me in the eyes with his electric green eyes that were so much like the stranger-no, Alexander's. "I really mean it."

"Thank you," I smiled after a moment. I was still mulling over the idea that I had just imagined Alexander. I was almost convinced that he was just my creation that I had given certain traits. But if that was the case, why did I give him Simon's eyes?

"What are you listening to?" Seth asked, distracting me from my inner questioning.

"Shinedown," the answer was given for me. "Cry for Help, if I'm correct."

"You are correct, sir," I answered with a grin. "It's the Sound of Madness album," I stated, "the deluxe version."

"Cool," Simon said, approvingly. "Have you heard their new album? It's pretty awesome." I didn't say a word as I stood up and walked over to the bookshelves in search of the new album. After a moment of searching I pulled Amaryllis off the shelf and handed it to him.

"Nah," I said with a smile. "Don't think I've heard it yet." He grinned and shook his head at me as he handed the CD back.

"Really?" he asked with mock surprise. "Well, you should totally listen to it sometime."

"I just might do that," I grinned as I placed it back on the shelf. "So, what are you two up to?"

"Well, we thought that we'd drop our stuff off here and chillax for a while before heading out to the coffee shop," Seth answered.

"The coffee shop?" I asked. I just couldn't picture two teenage boys hanging out a coffee shop for the fun of it.

"Yeah," Simon said with a chuckle. "It's not as boring as it sounds."

"Hey," I put my hands up in surrender. "I have nothing against coffee shops. They just don't seem like a very popular teen hangout."

"Yeah, well, welcome to Northanger Valley, Taylor," Simon grinned.

"It's not just a coffee shop," Seth defended. "It's also a book and music store."

"And it also houses the very first stage that the notorious Beauregard twins ever sang on," Simon added with a smirk. I was the new girl, but I had already heard all about Northanger Valley's twins, Gracie and Hope Beauregard. They loved to sing and dance in front of large crowds; no one in the entire valley had the heart to tell them that they weren't that great at it, because they were really sweet girls.

"Sounds like a cool place," I replied. I had begun to clean up the mess in the middle of the room as I spoke with them. "Have you guys ever given the stage a try?"

"Not me," Seth said quickly, putting his hands up. "I can't sing to save my life, but Simon's been up there a few times with his guitar."

"You play the guitar?" I asked, turning to Simon in awe. In the back of my mind, I faintly realized that I was holding the same paintbrush that I had tried to pull off as a weapon a few moments earlier.

"A little bit, but I'm not that good at it," Simon answered quietly and wouldn't meet my eyes for the first time since he stepped into my room.

"I'd like to hear you play sometime," I said honestly with a smile. "But don't worry; I won't expect you to be like Slash or anything."

"Good, because my GNR sucks," he said with a grin and his electric green eyes found mine again.

"So, no November Rain anytime soon?" I pouted and then laughed. "Oh, well!"

"Don't let him lie to you, though," Seth advised. "He's actually pretty good."

"You don't even like the kind of music I play!" Simon accused with a grin.

"I don't have to like the music to know you're good," Seth added with a smirk. "I just have to watch all the girls fighting to get closer to the stage as you play."

"From what I've heard, they would probably be fighting to get close to him regardless of his talent," I stated.

"Eh, probably," Seth agreed. "But you'd think that if he was horrible it would repel at least some of the raving fan girls."

"You'd think," I nodded as I folded up the painted newspaper. As I placed the newspaper on the window seat, my cell-phone rang. I walked over to my book bag and pulled the phone out of one of the pockets. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Emma calling. "Hello," I answered.

"Anna, are you doing anything at the moment?" Emma asked excitedly.

"Nothing too important," I answered slowly as I placed my painting on the window seat, on top of the newspaper. I could feel two pairs of green eyes follow me as I spoke. "Why, is everything okay?"

"You need to come to the coffee shop, right now!" she said quickly. I couldn't tell if she panicked or just excited. "If you don't know where it is yet, have Seth give you directions. But you need to get here as soon as you possibly can."

"O-okay," I replied. "Is everything okay?" I repeated the first question I asked, hoping she would answer it this time.

"Of course," Emma said with a carefree laugh. "We just want to hang out with our new friend, duh!"

"Okay," I shook my head and laughed. "I'll be there in a little bit, see you there."

"Yay, see you soon!" Emma shrieked and with that the call was disconnected.

"Do you think I could ride with you guys to the coffee shop?" I asked the two boys who were still staring at me questioningly.

"Of course," Seth answered slowly. "Are you meeting someone there?"

"Yeah," I answered as I picked the clothes I had been wearing, before I started painting, out of the hamper. "Emma said she wants to hang out."

"Just Emma?" Seth asked, and I could have sworn it sounded like he was disappointed.

"Well, she said 'we', so I assume that Bethany will be there as well," I answered him. As I watched his face light up, I remembered him telling me something when we were younger; he had a crush on Bethany. By the looks of it, the crush never faded.

"You might want to wash the paint off your face," Simon advised me, pulling me out of my scheming.

"And your hair," Seth added as he pulled a paint tainted strand out of my face.

"I'll get right on that as soon as you guys get out of my room," I grinned as I shooed them out of the room. I pushed the boys out and started to clean up. As I washed my hair and face, I texted Emma and asked if it was okay if the boys joined us. She was more than happy to oblige, and I smiled to myself as a plan formed in my mind.

6: Fallin' In Love At a Coffee Shop

We made it to the coffee shop and I saw that the boys weren't lying about any of it. On one end of the shop, there were shelves of books and CDs. At the other end, a stage stood open for anyone who dared to showcase their talents. In the middle, there was a counter (with coffee and cakes and stuff) and tables. Booths and tables were scattered at various places in the store and most of them were already filled with high school students.

It took a while, but we eventually found Emma and Bethany. They sat at one of the booths that were big enough to fit five people. Emma waved us over while Bethany stared a hole through the table. I quickly walked over to the table with the boys on my heels.

"Hey, guys," I greeted as I slid in next to Emma. I looked over at the boys and I noticed that Seth was looking particularly nervous. As I wondered where his nervousness was when he talked to us during lunch, my eyes slid over to meet a pair of electric green ones with a mischievous glint.

"Do you mind if we join you, ladies?" he asked; he was looking at me, but the question was directed towards Emma and Bethany.

"Of course," Emma managed to squeak out excitedly. "By all means, sit down." The boys did as they were told. Simon quickly slid in next to me, leaving Seth to sit next to Bethany. Seth shot me a panicked look as he sat down. I realized that even though he was a ladies man that didn't mean he knew how to talk to one he really liked.

"So, Bethany, have you read any good books lately?" I asked, ignoring my brother and turning to a now blushing Bethany. She looked up at me; her eyes alight.

"I just finished reading Name of the Star by Maureen Johnson," she said with a slight smile. "It was pretty good. It's actually the first in a series called The Shades of London."

"I just finished reading that one, too," Seth exclaimed. Then, the two of them totally forgot who it was they were talking to and got so engrossed in their favorite topic; books.

"Do you know what they make me think of?" I whispered to Emma. A smile graced her lips as she watched the two.

"Nerds in love?" Emma whispered back jokingly. I giggled quietly and shook my head. We were both lucky that the couple was too distracted by one another to notice us.

"A Skillet song, actually," I answered in a whisper. "Yours to Hold; It fits them so well."

"I've never heard of it," Emma admitted quietly. "It must be a cute song, though."

"I think you're onto something, Taylor," Simon whispered in my ear, causing me to almost jump out of my seat.

"Onto what, exactly?" I asked, confused. For once, I wasn't planning anything.

"Take Emma with you and go get my guitar. It's in the trunk of my car," he whispered the words in my ear as if they were secrets best kept. As he spoke, I felt his hand on my leg with a cold, metal object poking me. I took the key from the hand that was on my leg and nodded slowly, showing no other sign of our scheming. "I have something I need to take care of. I'll be right back," his voice had returned to its normal volume and startled me slightly.

"Hey, Emma," I said aloud a few moments after he left. "I think I left something in the car and I don't want to go out alone to get it. Will you come with me?" She readily agreed and the two of us walked out to the car. Seth and Bethany barely even glanced up as we left the table and I couldn't help but smile at their obliviousness.

"So, what did you come out here to get?" Emma asked as we neared the car. "You guys came in Simon's car? How are you going to get in? He usually locks it." I grinned at her as I put the key into the lock of the trunk. "The key!" she gasped very dramatically. "But how did you get it?"

"Simon gave it to me," I said before she could form some vision of me swiping it while he wasn't looking.

"Why?" she asked as if she couldn't fathom someone giving a random stranger their keys. Which now that I think about it, wasn't the smartest move. He might have had me take Emma with me so maybe she could persuade me not to steal his blue, Ford Taurus.

"To get this for him," I said as I unzipped his guitar case and pulled out his guitar. He had several different guitar picks, so I just picked out one that was purple and hoped that he liked it.

"Is he going to perform?" Emma asked excitedly. I closed the trunk with one hand while trying not to drop the guitar.

"I guess so," I answered as we started to make our way back into the coffee shop.

"Yay!" Emma squealed, causing me to smile. After we entered the shop, I saw Simon standing by the stage. He was waving at us, telling us to walk over to him.

"Are you ready to be paralyzed by my awesomeness?" Simon asked as I handed him the guitar. He grinned at me, but I noticed that his hands were shaking slightly and his electric green eyes weren't as sure as they usually were.

"Yeah, something like that," I answered with a roll of my eyes. I gave him a small smile. "Are you ready?" His eyes widened slightly for a moment, but then he just smiled and shook his head as if he didn't expect anything different.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he answered with a grin. He sent one last glance behind me, towards the couple, before he took the stage.

"Good luck," I whispered as I watched him walk up the stairs that led to the stage. Emma was beside me, jumping up and down excitedly, and I noticed that many of the coffee shop's female customers had quickly found their way to the stage after they saw him.

"This is a big deal," Emma told me as she enthusiastically gripped my arm. "Simon hasn't performed in quite a while and we were all afraid that he had given up on it." I thought that through for just a moment, before Simon's voice broke through my musings.

"Hi, everyone," his words seemed easy and carefree. "I just wanted to sing a song in honor of my friends Seth and Bethany. And Emma; and of course we can't forget Miss Taylor over here." He smiled and winked in my direction. I just grinned and rolled my eyes at him. "So, this song is a Skillet cover called Yours to Hold*. I hope you enjoy it."

"I see you standing here,

But you're so far away,

Starving for your attention,

You don't even know my name,

You're going through so much,

But I know that I could be the one to hold you,"

The words flew out of his mouth melodiously. His voice was beautiful, as were the notes that came out of his guitar. Although the lyrics were not his own, you could feel the emotion that was behind them.

"Are you crying?" Emma asked me over the roar of the crowed after Simon had finished his song. I touched my face and found that it was wet.

"I guess so," I laughed at myself. "That song just really touched me. It was beautiful."

"Welcome to the Simon Hugo Fan-club," she smiled and laughed. I laughed along as we watched a mob of girls swarm around Simon.

"Some days it's harder to see that they are no different from us," I admitted as I watched the crowd.

"Now you know how I feel," she agreed quietly. We didn't figure that we would see Simon again for a little while, so we made our way back to the table in silence.

---

*If you do not know the song or if you simply want the complete audio experience, I highly recommend looking up "Yours to Hold" by Skillet on YouTube.

A/N: I do not own Skillet or any of their lyrics. Also, I do not own "The Name of the Star" by Maureen Johnson.

7: Open Your Eyes

I sat out on the rooftop outside my bedroom window. Up there, I could see into the trees that hid the long driveway. Looking up and beyond the trees, I could see the millions of stars that lit the night sky. As the mid-September breeze brought goose bumps to my bare arms, my mind was still thinking of the warm coffee shop that I had left a few hours before. My stomach was still full from the food that I had enjoyed there with my friends.

I laughed to myself as I recalled the glare that Simon received as he re-joined us at the table (after he had escaped the crowd of girls, of course). Seth had apparently caught on to our little scheme, but he blamed Simon for all of it. Simon shrugged it off and smirked, feeling like his duty was done, I supposed.

My laugh faded away, though, as I recalled the empty house Seth and I came home to. When I asked Seth where our parents were, he shrugged and said that it was normal for them to come home late. He didn't seem to find anything strange about that and I didn't ask him about it anymore. I mean, what did I know about a normal family life? For years, it was just my dad and me and we never really had a stable home. One thing we made sure of, though, was to always eat dinner together.

Once again, I found myself longing for my father's company. I closed my eyes and I could picture him sitting next to me. I could hear his voice telling me all about some sort of instrument or machine that he had used in his work that day. As he went on about all of the inner workings of that tool, I really could have cared less, but as I sat out on the roof, I wished that I had asked more questions just to hear his voice for a little bit longer. I wanted to call him, but I knew from experience that he usually forgot that he even had a phone and wouldn't know that I called until he remembered to check it a week later.

I had just resolved that I would e-mail him when I went back inside, when I opened my eyes to find that I wasn't alone on the rooftop. Alexander sat next to me, his electric green eyes watching me intently. My heart was in my throat once again, but I didn't speak as I stared back into his eyes.

"I thought you fell asleep," Alex said as if that explained why he suddenly appeared. "What are you doing out here in the cold?"

"It's not that cold," I defended. I was slightly disappointed that he still hadn't said anything to sway my thoughts that he was just a figment of my own imagination.

"Yes, but it is only going to get colder as the night goes on," Alex continued to chastise. Did I think him up because I felt that I was lacking someone to take care of me? He didn't particularly look like a parental figure, though, with his pirate clothes and long, dark hair. Wouldn't I have envisioned a grandmother or grandfather like figure if I felt lacking in that arena? "Are you okay?" Alex looked at me strangely as I had been staring at him in my debating.

"Yeah, sorry," I said with a shake of my head. I stared up into the night sky so I wouldn't have a repeat of that. "I just haven't gotten much sleep lately, so I'm pretty tired."

"You should go inside, before you fall asleep out here in the cold," he advised. I couldn't understand why he wanted me to get off the rooftop so badly. It didn't feel that cold to me.

"It's not cold," I argued, but I consented and made my way back through the open window. He didn't follow me through the window, so I just left it open and sat down at my desk.

"If you leave your window open like that, you are going to catch cold," Alex complained from where he had materialized in the middle of the room. As he spoke, the window shut on its own. "That is better."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the now closed window. Windows can't shut of their own free will and there is no way a figment of my imagination could manage to use telekinesis. Figments are like mirages or hallucinations; they can't affect the real world. Or can they?

I decided that I was dreaming. I had, after all, been so tired that I fell asleep out on the roof and everything that I was witnessing was just all part of some trippy dream. Yep, that's what it was. I kept telling myself that as I reached over and pinched my arm; something that one never does when actually dreaming. That should've been my first sign, but no, I did not believe that I was actually awake until I felt the pinch.

"I think I am going to go to bed," I said, hoping that the hallucinations would go away after a good night's rest. Alex nodded and disappeared without a word. After sending a quick e-mail to my dad, telling him that I loved him and I missed him, I went to bed. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep and I didn't have any issue staying asleep either.

I awoke once again to the early morning light streaming through the still closed window. I shivered in the chilly September air and was a little grateful that I hadn't really fallen asleep outside; I couldn't imagine how cold it must have been out there.

"Are you cold?" came the voice that I had hoped would have completely disappeared by the time I awoke. I looked over to find Alexander sitting in my desk chair once again.

"You're not supposed to be here, still," I replied curtly. My mind wasn't quite awake enough to be polite. I watched his face fall slightly as the words came out. "I mean, I went to sleep. You should have disappeared into that dark abyss that holds all of my hallucinations that come out when I am working on very little sleep or when I'm stressing out over homework or whatever. You just supposed to be a figment of my own imagination that I create whenever I feel unsafe or like my mind needs protected . . ."

"Anna," Alex interrupted my rant as he took my shoulders in both of his pale, ethereal hands. His electric green eyes looked into my teary ones. "Please, calm down."

"I've seen a lot of people like you," I reluctantly admitted, still finding it hard to believe myself. My voice was quiet, solemn. I had calmed down significantly, even though I was still a bit shaky. "All pale, looking as if they could disappear in a matter of seconds. They never spoke, though, and all I had to do was close my eyes and they would disappear. Sometimes, it would take more than that if I was really tired."

"I don't think they'll disappear anymore," Alex said slowly. He was looking at me as if he was worried I would explode again.

"I was afraid of that," I sighed and slowly nodded my head. I might be able to come to terms with this; hopefully. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but what are you exactly?"

"A ghost," he simply answered.

8: All Your Lies

"You're a . . . a ghost?" I struggled with the word. Tears threatened to fall from my eyes as he slowly nodded. My brain had registered that if Alex was a ghost that meant he had died and his spirit had remained. I took one of his hands off my shoulder and held it in my own hands. I wondered how I could feel him and how he could touch me. Spirits aren't made of matter, are they? "How old were you?"

"Seventeen," he answered indifferently. He wasn't much older than me; there was only a two year difference. "But children grew up faster back then, so I wasn't as young as you might think."

"It's still not right," I shook my head. "You didn't even really get a chance to live."

"Well, I have been on this earth long enough that I do not really feel resentful of that," he laughed half-heartedly.

"For how long?" I asked. He gave me raised one eyebrow in confusion. "How long have you been a . . . a ghost?"

"For a very long time," he answered with a sad smile. I pouted, not liking his indecisive answer. I was about to call him out on it when I heard a knock on the door.

"Are you ready yet?" Seth's voice came bellowing through the door. I looked over at the clock and realized that I was seriously late.

"Um, no," I answered, panicking. "I will be ready in just a few minutes." I jumped off the bed, pulling myself away from Alexander, and ran to the bathroom door.

"Hurry up, please," Seth yelled. I didn't bother responding as I rushed through the dressing process. When I exited the bathroom, I was relieved to find Alex still sitting on my bed.

"Can . . . can anyone else see you?" I asked, silently praying that I wasn't just a freak that could talk to the dead.

"Not everyone can," he answered, getting my hopes down a little. "Only those who have the gift can see me and the gift is usually genetic; you probably got it from either your mother or your father."

"Okay," I said slowly, taking a moment to process that. Then, I realized that I had to be downstairs like twenty minutes ago. "Will you still be here when I get back from school?" I asked as I stood with one foot out the door. He hesitated for a second and then nodded. That was all I needed; I then rushed out to the car.

The car ride would have been completely silent if it I hadn't tried apologizing a hundred times (just a slight exaggeration). He told me that it was okay and that he didn't mind, but I could feel his irritation coming over to me in waves. After that, I shut up and stared absently out the window.

Even though he was mad at me, he still opened the doors for me as we entered the school. Upon entering the school, we were soon surrounded by our friends. Simon, Emma, and Bethany were all worried because Seth had arrived later than he usually would.

"Sorry, guys, it's my fault," I admitted, ashamed. "I guess I overslept," I lied instinctively. "I'm still trying to get over the jetlag."

"Are you okay?" Bethany asked quietly. My confusion must have been apparent on my face because she quickly explained. "You look really pale, even for you."

"No, I'm fine," I answered quickly, earning a few skeptical looks. "Honestly, I don't feel sick or anything."

"Beth's right, though," Seth said, speaking for the first time since we exited the car. "You do look really pale." He put a hand to my forehead; his irritation completely forgotten at the risk of me being sick. His close encounter was one too many for any of us to want a repeat. "You don't seem feverish."

"That's because I'm fine," I argued as I gently pushed his hand away. "There is nothing to worry about. Maybe I just look paler in the weird school lighting. Come on, we really should get to class before it's too late."

"Fine," Seth said through clenched teeth, not liking the ultimatum. "But promise me that you won't overdo it. If you start to feel bad, go straight to the nurse's office, okay?" The tone he used left for no objections.

"Yes, sir," I nodded, fearing his wrath if I disobeyed. After that, the five of us went our separate ways. Emma and I made our way to our history class.

"He's really protective of you, isn't he?" Emma mused. "He's such an amazing big brother! It was so cool to get to see that side of him. You're so lucky!"

"Yeah, I am," I agreed. I was blessed to have people who cared about me. In the back of my mind, though, I felt this nagging guilt. I felt guilty for not sharing my newfound 'gift', but at the same time I just knew they would think I was crazy or that I really was ill and hallucinating.

Heck, I was still hoping that was the case, but somehow I knew that it wasn't a hallucination. I knew that whatever this gift was, it was something that was in my blood; stuck with me for the rest of my life. I didn't know why I trusted Alex or why I was putting so much stock in his words, but I knew that for the moment, I had no other source of information.

After school, I had some extra time due to the fact that Emma and Bethany had some sort of club meeting and Seth had football practice again. My brain had been so distracted during all my classes, wondering how much there was to this gift that I didn't know and if Alex really was my only source. I figured that there must be some other way to know more.

So I went to the library and tried, as any normal teenager would, the internet on one of the computers. After a moment of seemingly endless searching of ghosts, though, I soon gave up on the World-Wide-Web. I even tried a less modern approach; the actual books in the library. Those weren't much help, either, but I did find some fictional reads that looked interesting.

"So, you're a fan of scary stories?" a quiet voice interrupted my reading. I jumped back from where I was sitting on the floor and hit my head on one of the bookshelves.

"Ouch," I exclaimed in a whisper. "Don't do that. You scared the crap out of me." I rubbed the back of my head and looked up into electric green eyes.

"Sorry," his green eyes sparkled with laughter. Simon then sat down next to me. He frowned and raised one eyebrow at the piles of books. "Why are you surrounded by ghost books?"

"I was looking for a particular book and I couldn't remember what it was called or anything about it, except the basic plot line," I lied. I closed the book I had been reading and placed it back on the shelf.

"Did you find it?" Simon asked, picking up one of the books and shaking his head at it.

"No," I sighed, honestly feeling down about it. Then, an idea popped into my head; I had one person that I could tell and ask anything, not matter how strange it was. "I'll just ask dad!"

"Did he read the book, as well?" Simon asked, confusing me for a moment. Luckily, though, I was putting some of the books back on the shelves and he couldn't see me trying to get my thoughts in order.

"Um, yeah," I answered intelligently after a moment. "He, uh, he's actually the one who recommended it to me the first time." This part actually could have been very close to the truth, my dad was always recommending weird books to me. I had read a few of them just to make him happy and to give us something to talk about.

"It sounds like the two of you were very close," Simon commented as he helped me put the books back where they belonged.

"Yeah," I smiled. "It was always just the two of us and more often than not we were trapped in the car for hours on end. We had plenty of bonding time."

"You were always together?" he asked. His voice was laced with surprise. I wasn't quite sure why he was so surprised, but then again I knew nothing about how things normally were.

"Yeah," I answered slowly. "When I wasn't in school, that is. Dad tried homeschooling me a few times, but he could only do that in certain states and eventually he gave up on it."

"Did your dad ever bring you with him to his job sites?" he inquired. His face seemed scrunched up in worry, but once again I couldn't understand why.

"Well, yeah," I answered as if that was quite obvious. "That was where we stayed, most of the time. But I never did get to see him work; he always did whatever it was he did at night, while I was asleep." I was wondering what exactly it was that my dad did once more as Simon seemed to relax.

"Did you ever see anything strange at those places?" he was still serious as he asked this.

"Not really," I answered automatically. "I mean, I would sometimes see things, but only when I was really tired or not in the right state of mind." I spoke without thinking, but something suddenly clicked. The gift had always been in place, showing up at my weakest moments.

"What do you mean by 'not in the right state of mind'?" Simon chuckled a bit, pulling me out of my revelations.

"You know, like I was running a fever or I was super stressed or something," I answered. He started to look at me apprehensively. "What is it?"

"You still look really pale," he admitted. His hand went to my forehead and then down to my cheek. "You don't feel sick?"

"No," I responded. "I'm telling you, it's just the lighting." I had already been through this about 50 times throughout the day and was getting a teeny bit tired of it.

"You didn't look this pale yesterday," he argued. I could not disprove his statement; I had no idea what I looked like yesterday. "Have you been stressed lately?"

Have I been stressed lately? I thought that I was hallucinating for most of the day yesterday and then I woke up to find that no, I wasn't hallucinating, I just have a seventeen year-old ghost living in my bedroom. And apparently he's not the only one, he's just one of the many that my newfound gift allows me to see and touch.

"No," I answered with a shake of my head. "Not particularly. I was a little nervous with adjusting to a new place, but you guys are so welcoming here that it's pretty easy."

"That's good," he breathed a sigh of relief as he bought into the lies I fed him. "I was worried that you would freak out and back away from us."

"Why would I do that? You guys are awesome," I answered honestly. I was relieved as the conversation turned to something easier, but the guilt was still eating me alive. I was never a compulsive liar and I had no intention of becoming one.

9: Gone Too Soon

I sat on the floor with my back against my bed. In my hands I held my cell-phone with my dad's contact information pulled up; his smiling face staring back at me. I can tell my dad anything, I kept reminding myself, but the fear of rejection stopped me from pressing the call button. Would he believe me? Would he think I was crazy?

Alexander wasn't around when I made it home. I had Seth drop me off when he dropped the Saturn off and hitched a ride with Simon to the coffee shop. Seth and Simon both seemed a little worried about me not joining them, but seemed to be okay with it once I said that I was just going to do some homework and rest. They seemed adamant about me doing more resting than homework, though.

The homework I half-lied about sat on the floor beside me, untouched, as I continued to stare at the screen of my phone. The screen went black and I shut my phone off in my frustration. Then, realizing that was stupid, I quickly turned it back on so anyone who wanted or needed to get ahold of me could.

I suddenly felt as if my bedroom was suffocating me, so I walked out and went downstairs to the kitchen. I went through the entire room looking for some sort of semblance of a family dinner. All I could find, though, was a variety of breakfast cereals, snack foods, and some expired milk. This new revelation saddened me greatly as I walked through the rest of the house.

The empty house held a sense of loneliness as I took my unauthorized tour. The living room, the laundry room, the kitchen; all the rooms looked so clean and unused, as if no one lived there. The only signs of life were all hidden within the bedrooms. In Seth's room, books, clothes, and video games were lying about. In the master bedroom, there were signs of an early departure. The bed was unmade and clothes were strung here and there as if left in a hurry.

Suddenly, staying in the empty house and waiting for Alex didn't feel like a good idea anymore. Never before had I felt so alone and yet so not. As I passed through the empty rooms I had just been in before, I couldn't help but feel as if someone was watching me. The walls seemed to close in around me as I ran to my bedroom.

"Decided to go for a walk," I said aloud as I wrote it down on a piece of paper. "Just needed some fresh air, don't worry. I'll be back soon." I grabbed my jacket and taped the note to my bedroom door. I figured that would be the first place anyone would go if they were to look for me.

I left the empty house in a run, only stopping to lock the door behind me. I walked along the long driveway and out onto the sidewalk. The feeling of being watched never left me as I passed forests and buildings. I decided that I was simply being paranoid right before I heard them.

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall," a little girl's voice whispered among the trees.

"Humpty Dumpty had a great fall," a little boy's voice soon followed the girl's. I stopped in my tracks and turned around to where the voices came from. I found myself standing in front of an elementary school. On one side of the doors there stood a sign explaining how the abandoned school was a historical landmark, on the other side there stood two memorial crosses; they were marked Harley and Hannah.

The school building itself held a strange aura that just screamed to stay away and run, but my curiosity was getting the better of me. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was scared out of my wits, but something was pulling me towards the building. My feet seemed to move on their own accord as they led me closer to the door; my hands as they pushed the door open. The doors should have been locked, that should have been my first sign.

If my house had felt creepy, the old school was far beyond that. The empty halls were filled with an eerie silence when I first walked into them; the only sound was my footsteps echoing throughout the school. It had to be at least twenty degrees cooler than it was outside, as well. I was shivering in my jacket.

I couldn't understand why the building had become abandoned, the structure seemed sound, which I was quite thankful for. At first, I didn't see anything as I walked through the halls. I thought that I could feel something, though, as I passed each vacant classroom. It wasn't until I got to the second floor and stood in front of the door to the roof that I felt something was really wrong. I finally gained enough control – and common sense – by that point and began to turn around.

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall," the girl's voice said again. I was forced to stop as the girl herself materialized in front of me. She couldn't have been any older than eight. She had her dark, brown hair done in braids that came to waist. Her grey eyes stared at me with little emotion.

"Humpty Dumpty had a great fall," the boy's voice also repeated. The young boy appeared in his ethereal form beside the young girl. He had to be the same age as her and his grey eyes held a family resemblance. His brown hair went past his shoulders as he stared at me with the same amount of emotion as his sister. I knew Harley and Hannah stood in front of me.

"All the King's horses and all the King's men," the girl continued the rhyme.

"Couldn't put Humpty together again," the boy finished it out. I couldn't help but shiver as chills ran up and down my spine.

"Hello," I said slowly and carefully, hoping that my fear wouldn't show through, but I got the feeling that ghosts could sense fear anyways.

"You shouldn't be here," the girl warned. Her emotionless eyes took on a more hostile expression.

"Isn't being hunted in life enough?" the boy asked. "Now we get to be hunted by the little, weak ghost hunters, as well?"

"I . . . I'm not here to hunt you," I said quickly. I held my hands up in surrender. "And I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," the boy scowled in disbelief. Then, out of nowhere, a pencil flew out and jammed itself into my arm. I fell to my knees at the sudden impact of pain and quickly pulled the bloody weapon out of my arm. I looked up at the culprit with questioning eyes. "That was to let you know that we aren't afraid of using force."

"I told you that I wasn't here to hurt you," I said through gritted teeth. I won't get into the gory details of the wound, but let's just say that it was quite painful.

"Why else would you be here?" the boy screamed at me in frustration. His twin kept glancing between the two of us with wide eyes.

"I don't know," I said with tears forming in my eyes. "I just felt compelled to come here." I, of course, was regretting it at that time.

"Let her go," the girl pleaded. "She's telling the truth. Look, her at her aura." I looked up at the girl confused, yet grateful.

"Fine," the boy sighed. "But I still don't like you. You better go before I change my mind." That was all I needed to hear; I was down the stairs and out the door before they could even disappear.

10: Save Me From Myself

The blood flowed freely from my wound as I made the quick trek home. I was faintly aware of the rain that had begun to fall from the overcast skies as it pelted against my bloodstained jacket. The only train of thought that I could hold was that I had to throw the jacket away when I got home.

I noticed Simon's car sitting in the driveway and my brain just barely registered what that meant; the boys were home. As I opened the door and walked through the house, I saw no sign of them, but once my feet reached the top of the stairs, I heard them.

"She could be anywhere!" Seth muffled voice came through his bedroom door. "Even for a small town, it's still pretty big for a young woman to be out on her own. She doesn't even know the area."

"Calm down," Simon's voice tried to pacify my panicking step-brother, but his own worry came through in his voice. "Have you even tried calling her?"

I didn't want to eavesdrop any longer. I quickly made my way into my bedroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind me. First, I stripped off my jacket and threw it in the trash. Then, I ran to my bathroom and pulled a dark towel out of the cabinet. I wrapped my arm up in the towel and began to search for something to clean and bandage the wound with. I was disappointed to find that there wasn't anything but a box of Band-Aids – I didn't figure that would work out well.

"Anna, what happened to you?" Alex appeared in the middle of my searching. I glanced over at the pirate ghost and shook my head.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they keep any medical supplies, would you?" I asked him in a whisper. His eyes trailed down to the towel that hid the damage.

"You should look in the laundry room," he said quickly. "I think I remember seeing the Valentine's get some bandages out of there one time." I didn't say anything else to him as I rushed down to the room he pointed out. I tried to walk quickly and quietly, not really wanting to run into the boys and have to explain everything. I wasn't really sure how I could explain it; the little, ghost boy did it to me? Yeah, that would go over well.

I made it to the laundry room and began to rummage through the cabinets. Trying to stay quiet became quite the challenge when I could only utilize one arm; I was just grateful that the pencil hit my left arm and not my right. Alex soon materialized beside me and began to help with my search and eventually the two of us found the cabinet that held what I needed.

The only problem was that the bandages, alcohol, and triple antibiotic were all on the very top shelf. As I pulled them down, I managed to knock a few other things down as well, resulting in a big crash. It was only a matter of seconds before I heard the footsteps that were making their way downstairs at a high speed. Alex disappeared before the door burst open to reveal a panting Simon.

"Stay outside, Seth," Simon said after he took one glance at me with the medical supplies. His words didn't really surprise me; Seth had always gotten faint at the sight of blood.

"How bad is it?" Seth's panicked voice came through the door that Simon had just shut. "Is she totally mangled? What's wrong?"

"I'm . . . fine," I tried to assure him. He still continued with his panicked questioning. "I really, really don't want to talk about what happened." I was being totally honest at that point; I didn't even want to think about those creepy twins.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Seth asked, only slightly calmer. Simon made his way towards me as Seth spoke; taking my towel-wrapped hand in his own.

"I will be," I promised him. Simon looked at me with one eyebrow raised as he silently unwrapped the towel and saw what lay underneath.

"Seth," Simon called out carefully. "You should call your parents and let them know that Anna made it home okay." That wasn't exactly what I thought he was going to say, but I think I liked that plan better.

"Oh, you're right," Seth agreed. "They were pretty freaked out earlier; I should let them know she's safe." And after that, I could hear footsteps walking away from the door.

"Why did you leave the house?" Simon asked as he picked up the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the cotton balls. He didn't sound accusatory, just simply curious.

"I didn't feel like being all alone in the house, after all," I answered honestly. I was too tired to come up with a different story, so I was really hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions.

"You could've called us," he suggested as he poured alcohol on a cotton ball. "We would've come and hung out with you."

"I didn't want to bother you guys," I winced as he applied the cotton ball to my wound; the alcohol burning my skin. I instinctively wrapped my right hand around Simon's arm – the one he wasn't using to clean my wound.

"It wouldn't have been a bother," he argued. His face fell as I winced; not liking the pain I was in. "We probably would have had more fun had we been here with you, in all honesty."

"Why is that?" I asked - mostly to distract myself from the pain. "Was the coffee not as good today?"

"No, not really," he chuckled at my lame attempt at a joke. "We couldn't really enjoy ourselves with the thought of you being here all alone."

"I didn't want you guys to worry about me," I pouted. "You shouldn't have let me ruin your afternoon." I ignored the look he gave me.

"Are you really telling me not to worry?" he laughed humorlessly. He threw the cotton ball away and grabbed a Q-tip and the triple antibiotic. "You're not exactly in a position to be telling me that. I hope you know that coming home with a knife wound isn't helping your case any."

"A pencil," I corrected without thinking. It wasn't until he raised an eyebrow at me that I realized my mistake, but it was a little late by that point. "It's a pencil wound."

"Where did you walk off to?" he asked in astonishment. I had to look away and bite my lip as he applied the triple antibiotic. That was one of the questions that I really didn't want to answer. "That's fine. You don't have to tell me," he didn't sound happy about it, though.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I'm just still really freaked out about it and my brain still can't wrap itself around it; I'm not even really sure that I want it to . . ."

"Shh," Simon interrupted my little panic attack. He placed his hand on the side of my face and lightly caressed my cheek. "It's okay. We're right here. You're safe now."

"Thank you," I said as I took a deep breath. "Honestly, thank you for everything."

"No problem," he shrugged and went back to dressing my wound. Once he was done and my arm was bandaged he looked up at me as if he was debating something. "This could mean nothing to you, but do you know about the abandoned elementary school?"

"I . . . I've seen it, but I don't really know much about it," I answered in partial honesty. I really didn't know much about it, unless you count the fact that it was haunted by creepy little twins. What really struck my curiosity, though, was how on earth did that cross his mind?

"Well, there's not really much you need to know," he continued. His words led me to believe that there was something that he knew that he wasn't exactly sharing with me, but I wasn't going to call him out on it. I mean, I wasn't exactly the queen of honesty at that moment. "But it's a dangerous place," I kind of had that figured out, but I wasn't going to tell him that. "Promise me something."

"Of course; what is it?" I agreed quickly, compelled by his sudden seriousness. His eyes seemed entranced with the fresh bandages as he caressed my arm.

"Promise me that you'll never go near that school alone," his tone left no room for arguments and I honestly felt no need for one.

"Yes, sir," I promised, not knowing how the conversation would haunt me in the days to come.

11: Your Presense Still Lingers Here

I sat on my bed, curled up among my blankets; my damp hair not helping my case as I shivered in the cold. I stare at the recently materialized Alex with tired eyes as his electric green eyes stare back in worry. The last time he had seen me, I was bleeding and busy trying to fix it.

I hadn't really gotten the chance to speak to him, because the boys had me take my homework downstairs for a 'fun study-date". I think that they just wanted to keep an eye on me. After the homework was all done, Simon suggested a movie, so we watched The Blind Side while we ate pizza and popcorn.

Alex seemed to be anxious to hear what had happened as he came and sat facing me on the foot of my bed. I wasn't quite as excited about it as I recalled the creepy school house. An involuntary shiver travelled down my spine as the twins' nursery rhyme played over again in my head.

"What happened, today, Anna?" my ghostly companion asked, finally tired of the silence. I pulled one of my fuzzy pillows closer to me and hugged it tightly before I began to say anything.

"I went for a walk," I said slowly, attempting to gather my thoughts before I delved too deep into the story.

"When did you get home?" Alex asked, interrupting my thoughts. "You weren't here at the same time as you were yesterday."

"Oh," was my brilliant response as I had just realized why he hadn't been there when I got home; he hadn't expected me to show. "Seth has football practice after school and my friends also had something going on, so I had to stay after school."

"Oh," he breathed a sigh of relief-well, he was relieved, at the least; I don't think that the dead can breathe. I gave him a confused look and he gave me a sheepish smile in return. "I might have figured that you had decided to ignore your gift and didn't want me around."

"If I didn't want to see you again, I would have just told you," I tried to give him a reassuring smile. "And why would I ignore the . . . gift? Or better yet, how?"

"Some people refuse to acknowledge the gift," he said in disapproval. "They would prefer to talk with the living than hear the cries of the dead."

"Have you had to deal with that a lot?" I asked, suddenly curious about his life; or afterlife, I guess.

"Not so much, in death," he answered honestly. "I have maybe come across it once or twice that I know of. In my lifetime, though, there were a number of people who acquired the gift, but had no intention of using it to help those in need."

"So, you knew people with the gift when you were . . . still alive?" I probed. I had wondered if people were more open in his day, but that didn't seem to be plausible.

"I was one of those people," he replied and suddenly it made sense. He knew so much about this strange sight, because he had lived it. "The gift had run in the Slater family for many generations, much like it has in the Taylor blood."

"The Taylor blood?" I asked cleverly. As the words came out of my mouth, though, the puzzle pieces had begun to fit together. My father's strange 'jobs', the tools he used in his work, the late nights; his gift was his occupation. He lived to help the dead.

"Of course, your family's work is well known among the ghosts and the shadow kissed," Alex said in what seemed to be a boast.

"I thought that you had to die first to be shadow kissed," I said in confusion. He raised an eyebrow at my inquiry, as if that wasn't the question he expected me to ask.

"It is simply a term for someone whose aura is tainted by death," he answered.

"Oh," I said in response. "And how is my family's work so famous?" He smiled slightly, as if this was the question he originally thought that I would ask.

"You come from a long line of shadow kissed that were always ready to do what they were made to do; help the dead pass over," he was proud again as he said this. "I'm not going to lie and say that they adjusted to the gift effortlessly or that they were always completely open to the idea." I felt as if he tacked on the last part as a warning that this wasn't going to be easy. I was reminded me of my first little taste of just how easy the job really was; my arm began to tingle at the thought.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to jump in to this blindly," I shuddered. "At least, not again."

"What happened, today?" he asked once again. He hadn't been distracted by my questioning enough to forget the reason he had come.

"Well, I went for a walk," I repeated my initial response. I had lost track of whatever it was that I had planned to say and was trying to recollect my thought as Alex stared at me with an incredulous look on his face.

"Why did you go for a walk?" he asked with a sigh, as if he was too impatient to let me collect my thoughts on my own.

"I felt suffocated and needed some fresh air," I answered quietly. "Anyways, I somehow happened to come across this abandoned school during my little walk." I paused for a second as Alex made a strange noise signaling that he knew that the story could only go downhill from there. "I heard something that intrigued me and felt compelled to enter said school. I made it all the way to the door to the rooftop when I could finally take control of my feet again and turn back around. Then, I saw them," I trailed off as I got deep into the memory. I could almost see the young children with their emotionless, grey eyes staring at me and their little voices repeating that nursery rhyme over and over.

"Anna," Alex's voice broke through the chant as he placed his ethereal hands on my shoulders. "You are okay. You are safe, now." I looked into the electric green eyes that were so similar to the ones of the boy who had said almost the exact same words just hours before. I was so shocked that I could only nod in thanks. He looked me over carefully before asking, "Can you continue?"

"Uh, y . . . yes," I said shakily. "Um, anyways, they were twins; Harley and Hannah." I didn't go into great detail of what they looked like and I didn't figure he would care that much. "They didn't seem too pleased to find that I was, um, trespassing on their territory and were very adamant that I not mess with them."

"Did they do that to you?" he asked suddenly. His right hand moved from my left shoulder down to my forearm.

"Yeah," I nodded slowly. "Harley said that it was a warning; that they were serious about not being hunted down again."

"Hunted down again?" Alex thought aloud. He apparently didn't have a better answer for it than I did.

"He said 'being hunted in life is enough' and "now we get to be hunted by the weak ghost hunters' or something to that effect," I added.

"Weak ghost hunters, you say?" he sounded irritated as he pondered that. "Well, that means they know about the gift."

"Oh, the little girl, Hannah, also spoke about an aura or something," I said as if that would somehow be related, but by the raised eyebrow that he was giving me, I figured that there was no obvious correlation. I shrugged it off, though, as a more chilling thought came to mind, "They kept repeating the same rhyme; 'Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,'"

"Most likely they do that for the thrill of the haunt," Alex explained with a small smile. "But it could somehow be tied to how they died. They might have fallen to their death from a tall cliff or something."

"Or they might have been pushed off of a school roof by someone who wanted them gone," I said solemnly. They had said that they had been hunted in life, but what if their hunters had finally caught up to them?

"That is an interesting theory, but I would jump to conclusions just yet," he said almost patronizingly. "We would have to do a lot more research to be sure."

"Whoa, research?" I asked, not fully grasping what he was saying. "Am I going to write an essay on them?"

"No," he laughed at me. "But it helps to have the whole story when you go to help them pass on."

"Hold your horses there, pirate," I said quickly, ignoring his questioning look. "Even if I had some sort of death wish and I wanted to go back to that creepy place, I honestly can't." This newfound gift might have begun to turn me into a liar, but I fully intended on keeping my promise, even if it was the last one I'd ever be able to keep.

"There is a way around that," Alex said solemnly. His electric green eyes darkened as he spoke. "Your friend merely said that you could not go there alone," he pointed out. "And after today's incident, there's no way I would let you go alone anyways."

"How in the world did you know what Simon said?" I asked, internally outraged at the fact that he was eavesdropping on my conversation. "Were you listening in on us?"

"I . . . I was curious," he admitted remorsefully. "You hadn't said much to me and I was worried that you were a lot worse off than you had let on."

"Where were you?" I asked, recalling that he had disappeared as soon as the door had flown open.

"I was outside the door, with your brother," he answered shamefacedly. "I figured it would be safe, since he couldn't see me anyways." I let out a sigh as I found myself letting him off the hook; unable to stay mad at him.

"Okay, so when exactly do you want me to start this research?" I changed the subject, much to my ghostly companion's pleasure.

"We should probably give a couple nights," he replied. "That would you give you a little time to recuperate from today's incident."

"Yeah," I agreed, still not too happy about it. I looked down at my arm; the bandages being hidden beneath Alex's pale hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes having fallen where mine rested. "Did you lose too much blood? You look almost as pale as me."

"I'll be fine," I smiled at him. "With one good night's rest, I'll be better in no time." I honestly had no clue if that was all it would take; I was just hoping he would buy it.

"I will leave and let you get some sleep, then," he said, taking his hands back. "Good night, Anna."

"Good night, Alex," I whispered into the dark room as he swiftly disappeared. I sat there for a long moment after he left; hugging my pillow tightly and replaying the day in my head.

I had awoken to find out that I was a ghost hunter (or shadow kissed or whatever name they had for those with the gift). I had made the mistake of walking into a haunted school completely unguarded and I paid for it by getting impaled in the arm with a very sharp pencil. I had somehow along the way learned what it was to be a compulsive liar. I had made a promise that I had no idea was going to be so hard to keep. I was starting to think that I had just sold my soul to the pirate ghost who swore that this was my duty. And you want to know that worst part of it all? The day wasn't even over yet?

12: Daydreamer's Nightmare

I stood on the edge of a two-story building as the sun began to rise. I had no recollection of how I had made it there or where exactly 'there' was. The wind was so cold and so sharp that it felt as if it was cutting my skin. Snow covered the ground that was 20 or so feet below me.

I looked to my right to find that I was not alone; a young man in his late teens stood beside me. He had dark, shoulder length, brown hair that was being blown in all different directions by the icy wind. He turned to face me with fear in his grey eyes. Those grey eyes felt so familiar, but at that particular moment in time I couldn't remember why.

He took my hand to try and comfort me; a motion that I knew also meant that he was sorry for not being able to protect me and he had done all he could. I gave his hand a squeeze to let him know that he was forgiven. He was okay now, as long as he knew that I was still with him he could die in peace, or so he thought.

We turned away from our impending doom and faced the people that had chased us to our dead end (no pun intended). There were two men and one woman who I took to be the ringleader of the whole situation. On their faces they wore a look of intense pleasure; having finally caught their prey. Around each of their waists they had what looked like a tool belt, only instead of tools in their pouches, they had weapons. Both of the men were preoccupied by loading a gun from their pouches as we stood there in a standoff.

"Look here, kids," the woman sneered. "You are abominations; demons who are undeserving of living among us humans. You shouldn't be able to do things that you can do." I tuned out her rant, as I felt as if I had heard it a million times before; I focused on the strange colors that were surrounding her. Two color stood out the most; green and red (jealousy and anger).

"You're just jealous that we have an ability that you don't," my grey eyed companion pointed out.

"How dare you, you little imp," the woman hissed, outraged at having been called out on her true feelings. She quickly regained her composure, though and smirked at us. "Well, your little mind games won't save you now. Prepare to go straight back to where you came from." As soon as the words flew out of her mouth, the two men had finished their preparations and we were left staring down the barrels of .45's.

"Any last words?" said one of the men. His colors were a mix of red and blue; red represented his anger that was directed toward us and the blue was his trust in the woman.

"We just want to let you know," I spoke for the first time since we reached the rooftop.

"You won't get away with this," my companion continued my sentence.

"Someone will find you," I stated.

"And you will pay for what you've done," my companion finished. Gasps were heard and their sneers fell slightly.

"You got two choices," the second man told us. "You can either go by gun or by jump. Choose wisely." This last part was spoken with a sick twisted grin and I noted that his colors were a mix of his cohorts' with a hint of black; evil resided in his heart.

We knew that there would be pain either way, but we didn't want to give the men the sick satisfaction of pulling the trigger. So, we braced ourselves on the edge of the building and took deep breaths. The onlookers were starting to get impatient as we took our time with the last few moments we had left.

"I love you, Hannah," my grey eyed companion whispered. "No matter what happens after this, don't ever forget that."

"I love you, too, Harley," I replied right before we jumped to our deaths. The ice cold wind tried to stop us; attempting to prolong the inevitable. We were fated to die; we were demons by the world's standards. We were never expected to survive.

I awoke with the strangest sensation of falling and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I fell to my cold, bedroom floor with a thump. I quickly sat up and look around the room in relief. It wasn't real; it had all been a dream, I told myself. It had felt all too real, though; something about it didn't feel like a dream.

My skin still felt frozen from the arctic winds of the dream; my right hand still warm from the hand of the young man, the young man with grey eyes that were so familiar as he called me "Hannah". He was much too old to be the Harley that I had seen earlier that day and his facial features were a bit different. But he was definitely related to the twins, somehow.

I was almost positive that the dream was nothing more than my subconscious reading too much into the ghost situation, but I still felt as if there was more to it. I wouldn't be able to sleep until I had some answers; I wasn't even sure that I would be able to sleep again after that. I jumped up off of the cold floor and rushed to the writing desk where my laptop sat waiting to be of use. I opened it up and pressed the little power button; drumming my fingers quietly in my impatience as I waited for screen to come up.

The internet hadn't been too useful in my broad search for ghosts, but I figured that if the search was narrow enough, I could find exactly what I needed. I didn't waste time in finding the internet icon on the desktop and pulling up the search engine. I typed "Tragedies in Northanger Valley" and then I added "Twins, Harley and Hannah" in case there had been an outbreak of tragedies in Northanger Valley in the past that I didn't know about.

Sure enough, there was a butt-load of "Tragedies in Northanger Valley"; most of them weren't even the same Northanger Valley that I had just begun to call home. But only one article came up with the names Harley and Hannah; it was dated three years ago in December. The title screamed out at me as I clicked on the link; Community Shaken by Child Suicides.

"The day started out like any other in the small town of Northanger Valley, KY," the article read. "The twins, Harley and Hannah Anderson (age 7), rode the bus to school with their older brother, Mason (age 14), just like always. They left no indication that they were planning to take their own lives.

"'Harley and Hannah were both so cheerful,' their heartbroken mother told detectives. 'We had no idea something like this was going to happen.'

"'It appears as though the twins jumped from the roof of the school on their own accord,' Det. Harold Carol told us. 'At this moment, how they got up there without anyone knowing is still unknown.' The incident is still under investigation."

The article then went into an account of the personal lives of the Anderson twins. "The twins were always known for their eccentricities and their ability to brighten up a room with their antics.

"'They always loved to tell a story,' their second-grade teacher recalled fondly. 'They would try to convince us that they had superpowers that could tell them what we were feeling.'

"The twins both excelled in their schoolwork and never missed a day of class. They were extremely helpful to their teachers; always asking if there was anything they could help them with." I scanned the rest of the article and found that there wasn't really anything else that really stood out to me.

One thing really caught my attention, though; there was a picture of the three Anderson siblings at the bottom of the article. I wasn't that surprised by the image of the twins, although was a bit odd to see them with so much color in their skin as opposed to the ethereal look I was used to. But, no, I was shocked by their older brother, Mason; his grey eyes stared back at me with his hair, that hadn't quite grown out to his shoulders yet, slicked back for picture day. He was a younger version of the man from my dream; my companion.

Tears started to fall from my eyes as I realized what that meant. The article knew nothing about what really happened that morning, but I feared that I knew exactly what did. I quickly grabbed a spiral notebook and pen out of my book bag before the tears could turn into uncontrollable sobs. I rapidly wrote down all that I could remember from the dream and what little I took from the article; all the while praying that I would be able to read it later. When I was finished, I curled up into a ball and cried my eyes out.

---

"And even though she's dreaming, she's unlocked the meaning for you,"-Shinedown

13: Mr. Know-It- All

I woke up, hours later, to the first signs of sunlight trying to break through my bedroom window. I was surprised to find that I was back in my bed, covered by my warm blankets. My cheeks felt weird from where my tears dried on my cheeks.

I sat up carefully and stretched my arms. As I was stretching, my bandaged arm caught my eye and the memories of the day before came crashing down on me. With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and figured that I had better get on with my life. "There ain't no rest for the wicked," as Caged the Elephant once put it.

As my feet landed on the floor, my eyes met with a pair of startled electric green ones. Alex had apparently been sitting in my desk chair this entire time. He had the chair turned around so that it was facing my bed and in his lap sat my spiral notebook.

"Good morning, Anna," he greeted me carefully, almost as if he was afraid I would break.

"Morning," I tried to say cheerfully, but it came out a lot gruffer than I had intended it to. I started to walk towards my closet and pull out clothes. "How was your night?"

"A lot better than yours, it seems," was his solemn reply. I glanced over to find him brooding over my notebook. With a sigh, I quickly turned back to my clothes.

"Do you think it really happened?" I wanted to hear his opinion before I jumped to conclusions again. "My dream, that is."

"I think that your dream is exactly what happened," he gave me the answer I feared. "Have you ever seen the older brother before?"

"No," I sighed. An idea popped in my head and I walked over to Alex with my clothes draped over my arm. He gave me a curious look as I maneuvered around him and pulled the internet back up on my laptop. I logged on to Facebook and searched for Mason Anderson. "It says here that he is alive and well and that he still resides in Northanger Valley. His most recent status says that he's been away on vacation."

"What is that contraption exactly?" Alex asked suddenly. "And what is with the book about faces?"

"'That contraption' is a laptop or portable computer," I tried to answer him with a straight face. "And Facebook is an online networking site." He still looked lost. "A computer is an electronic data processor; it has a lot of bells and whistles that would take million years for me to explain in full detail."

"Okay," he came to terms with that. "What about an 'online networking site'?"

"An online networking site is a place where people from all different parts of the world can talk and exchange photos and other things," I tried to answer him to the best of my ability.

"What 'other things'?" he asked, honestly curious. I resisted the urge to give him a dirty look.

"Like documents, videos, links, and lots of things," I shrugged. I had no idea how to explain technology to someone who hadn't grown up in a technological world.

"Can you exchange food?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. I couldn't help but laugh at that; I got an image from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory where Willy Wonka has his Oompa Loompas transport the giant chocolate bar to inside the television and has Charlie pull out the new miniature version of the chocolate bar and take a bite, but then Mike Teevee gets the brilliant idea to transport himself into the television . . . well, yeah.

"Sorry, I wasn't laughing at you," much. "We aren't that advanced yet. And I would love to stand here and tell you all about electronics, but I really must go and get dressed." I left him and went into the bathroom. When I exited the bathroom, fully dressed, Alex was still sitting in my desk chair glaring at the cursed notebook. "You know that glaring at it won't make anything better, right?"

"I know," he sighed and threw the notebook on my unmade bed. He turned his troubled electric green eyes towards me. "Does it not bother you?"

"Honestly, it's eating me up inside," I answered him truthfully. "But as of right now, there is nothing I can do about it. Trust me, though, when the time comes, I will make sure that those murderers get exactly what they deserve." I opened the door and walked out, but not before I caught the look of surprise on Alex's face.

The ride to school was much lovelier when we were on time; or rather when I was on time. Seth was never late it seemed. We didn't really talk much, due to the fact it was way too early in the morning for either of us to come up with any stimulating conversations.

Seth didn't fail to comment on my lack of jacket, though. Every now and then, he would glance over at my arms as if he was trying to see my chill bumps through the long sleeves of my shirt. I pretended to be completely oblivious to all the disapproving comments and looks that he sent my way.

Upon entering the school, we met with our friends and I had to dodge questions about my lingering paleness. This time, though, I knew why I was so pale; I was still recovering from a vicious ghost wound. Having seen the Anderson twins' death, however, I couldn't find it in my heart to be mad at them.

As we all began to part ways, we passed quite a few people that were whispering among themselves. I knew that I had nothing to worry about; since I was the new girl, most of the information the town had on me was based on rumors, but it did spike my curiosity.

"Is something going on?" I asked my unusually quiet companion. Emma looked surprised for a moment before she started debating whether or not to tell me.

"Mason Anderson is back from vacation," she said quietly, as if she didn't want anyone to eavesdrop on our conversation. "He's here a few days early and no one was really expecting it."

"Is that bad?" I asked, lowering my voice to match hers. I was wondering if maybe the students weren't really sure how to talk to him after the incident with his little siblings and things continued to go downhill from there; resulting in mutual conflicts.

"He has a bit of an attitude and he thinks he owns the school," she answered. I heard her add under her breath, "And for most of us, he does."

"Why does he think that?" I asked, getting totally confused. I figured that he would have felt outcast after everything that happened, not go for school-wide domination.

"He's quite . . . knowledgeable," she struggled with the right way to put it. I had never seen Emma have any issues with talking before, yet something about Mason Anderson had her lips sealed. I couldn't tell if it was out of respect or fear, but whatever it was worried me.

The whispers continued as we made our way through each of our classes. It wasn't until we made it to our Home Economics that the whispering stopped. Home Ec was the one class that I had with both Emma and Bethany. It was only natural that they were partners in that class, since they were best friends; it all worked out perfectly, as Emma would say.

That is, it all worked out perfectly until that day. For the past couple of days, I had done all my work sans a partner because whoever my partner was supposed to be was gone for the week. I hadn't really asked much about it because, honestly, I was kind of enjoying working by myself.

As soon as Emma and I entered the classroom, we could feel the thick atmosphere. Even though most of the class had already arrived, there was an intense silence. I quickly went over to Bethany and Emma's desk, where a very anxious Bethany sat on the edge of her seat.

"Hey, Bethany," I greeted her, trying to change the atmosphere with a smile. I couldn't stand the uneasiness in the air.

"Hey, Anna," she smiled back. I watched as she relaxed into her chair.

"Hey, did any of you catch last night's episode of Zombie High?" Emma asked, regaining her normal cheerfulness. "I totally wanted to watch it, but my mom was harping me about doing my homework." She added an exaggerated eye roll for emphasis as she took her seat next to Bethany.

"I didn't watch it myself, because I was reading Shadowland by Meg Cabot," Bethany answered. "But I did record it for you, so you can come over and watch it whenever you want to."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Emma smothered Bethany in a big, bear hug. I couldn't help, but chuckle at the sight.

"I can't breathe, Emma," Bethany giggled between gasps for air. Emma quickly jumped back into her own chair and looked guilty for just a moment, but then she was laughing along with us.

"You should probably take your seat, Anna," Emma advised. "The teacher is walking into the room." I nodded as I quickly scampered over to my desk.

I was surprised to find that my desk was not empty as I approached it. I was especially startled by who sat in my partner's seat. His dark brown hair came to the shoulders of his three-quarter sleeved light blue shirt. The shirt was slightly unbuttoned in the front to reveal his tight, black tank; I was only paying attention to these details so I could avoid looking in his eyes for a bit longer. But one can only procrastinate for so long and I was forced to meet his sad, grey eyes.

"Nice of you to join me, little ghost hunter," Mason welcomed me with a small, seductive smile. His words startled me and I knew that it had to have been written all over my face. "Didn't you friends tell you?" he asked. "Of course not, they haven't exactly been completely forthcoming with you. Anyways, I know everything. That is my gift. I'll give you a moment to process that, since I know that not everyone has the ability to grasp things as well as I." His words contradicted his eyes. He spoke as if he was better than everyone, but his eyes gave him away.

"You have the gift to know everything?" I asked in slight disbelief, but I wasn't going to completely knock what he was saying; I mean I just recently found out that I had a strange gift, who knew what other gifts were out there?

"Yes," he said slowly as if he was talking to an idiot. "I have the gift of knowledge, much like you have the amazing gift of seeing the dead." That last part was said with much unappreciated sarcasm. "I know everything I need to know about life, except for human thoughts or emotions, but those are just a few minor exemptions."

"What do you know about the dead?" I asked, noticing the key word he used there. I didn't really want to bring the subject up with him; especially considering how close to home the question would hit him.

"I knew nothing until last night," he answered, his voice losing a bit of its 'holier than thou' tone. "Your dream is what brought me back here so soon."

---

A/N: I do not own Facebook, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, or Shadowland (Book 1 of the Mediator Series).

Mark Zuckerberg, Roald Dahl, and Meg Cabot own them, respectively. Thank you for reading! ^_^

14: Am I Sick or Am I Gifted?

"Don't tell me you're a dream walker as well," I groaned at the new revelation that I was not alone in my nightmare.

"Hey, don't pin the blame on me, little ghost hunter," Mason growled in response. "That dream was all you. I was just strung along for the ride."

"Oh, thank goodness," I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't too fond of having him inside my head.

"You still have to deal with the visions from the past," he reminded me critically. I don't think he enjoyed my relief as much as I did.

"I'll deal," I shrugged, much to his annoyance. I decided to change the subject. "So, you cut your vacation short to come and meet the lowly ghost hunter who somehow managed to pull you into her nightmare from the past. What now?"

"We hunt the hunters," he said as if that was obvious. "With my knowledge of life and your information from the dead, I figure we're sure to find the witch hunters and take them down."

"Slow down, there," I had to stop him before he got carried away. He gave me a patient look that told me he already knew how this was going to go. "How exactly do you plan on taking on this group of witch hunters? Who knows how many of them there are or where they are."

"That just proves your naivetés and lack of knowledge about the gifted world," he boasted while patronizing me; a lovely skill, not!

"Well, sorry, Mr. Hoity Toity God-Like Smarty Pants*," I muttered under my breath. Ignoring the glare he sent me I continued, "Care to enlighten me?"

"If I really must remind you," he seemed to find teaching me about the gifted world extremely tedious. "I know everything. And I also have an entire team of gifted people that do as I say. Together we are unstoppable."

"An entire team?" I exclaimed. Then, I recalled the words Emma had spoken to me earlier that day. I thought aloud, under my breath, "You really do control most of the school, don't you? How many of the students are gifted in this school?!"

"You'd be surprised at how many people are born with a gift," Mason said in answer to my thoughts. "There are quite a few aura readers, the occasional fortune teller, a few mind readers, and only a couple ghost hunters. I am the only knowledge holder in this school, but there are a few within the county."

"Aura readers," I mused aloud. That must have been what Harley and Hannah were; the reason they had to die. They could do something that they shouldn't have been able to, according to the witch hunters. By the witch hunters' standards, we could all do something that we shouldn't have been able to; every single one of us that were born with a gift. The thought made my stomach churn.

"Yes, aura readers," his sad eyes darkened as his mind travelled down an unspeakable path. My own eyes strayed to the front of the room where the teacher had already been halfway through his lesson. I was slightly worried that I fall behind, but then I realized that he was just introducing how to make meatloaf (our project for tomorrow); something I already knew. "You shouldn't worry too much about failing this class," Mason said with little emotion. "You pretty much learned all of the things that they teach here when you were taking care of your father."

"I thought you said you couldn't read minds," I grumbled, my eyes never leaving the dreary teacher as she explained things in her monotone voice.

"With you, I don't have to," he chuckled. "It's pretty much written on your face." So much for me trying to be mysterious. "Don't worry, though; you still keep a lot of things hidden."

"That's good," I smirked. "I would hate it if you were to know literally everything there is to know about me."

"Well, why not?" he asked. The tone he used made me sense that he was up to something and I turned back around to face him. "I know everything except your thoughts and emotions; your full name, your first crush, your biggest secret. I know it all and won't be afraid to use it against you; better keep that in mind." He ended his threat with a wink.

"Anna Elizabeth Taylor; Matt, who sat next to me in my 1st grade class in Arizona; and I'm shadow kissed," I kept my face blank as I rattled off the little known facts.

"Actually it was Tyler, who sat in the seat in front of you in your 1st grade class in Memphis, Tennessee," Mason corrected me crossly; he didn't like not being able to bully someone. "You went to Bisbee, Arizona later that year."

"Oh, yeah," I smiled at childhood memory. "Guess I forgot about Memphis."

"You've forgotten a lot of things," he muttered under his breath so quietly that I don't think that I was meant to hear it.

"Ms. Taylor, would you recommend using chicken or ground beef for meatloaf?" the teacher asked me before I could ask Mason what he meant.

"I would use ground beef, Mrs. Kraft," I answered her. She nodded quietly to herself and I had the feeling that she was going to be keeping a close eye on me from then on.

"Hope you weren't planning on becoming the teacher's pet anytime soon," Mason chuckled, causing me to groan in frustration. "But don't worry; in your line of work, angry teachers will be the least of your problem. Angry ghosts on the other hand, you might have to worry about."

"Yeah, thanks for that word of advice," I said through gritted teeth. He chuckled again, enjoying my life's pain.

"Anytime, Anna," I could hear the grin behind his words, but I didn't risk the teacher's wrath to see if he was really grinning. We stayed silent as the teacher continued to drone on about the proper way to make meatloaf. We were completely enraptured in our thoughts, I mean the lesson – yeah, that's totally what I meant.

You learn something new every day, I guess, but I had never learned so much in such a short span of time as I had the past couple of days. Not only did I learn that I had a gift, but that there were many others with gifts – who knows how many different gifts were out there?

And what did Mason mean about "You've forgotten a lot of things"? And what exactly was he planning to do about catching the witch hunters? I really hoped that whatever it was didn't involve me too much, but I feared that my hopes would all be in vain.

As soon as class was over, I was up out of my seat. I didn't waste a moment reaching Bethany and Emma's desk, but unfortunately neither did Mason. He was on my heals as I sprinted towards my friends.

"I need you, aura readers, to make sure that our little friend here makes it to club after school today," Mason demanded of the girls. I should've been more surprised by the fact that my friends both had the gift of aura reading, but instead I was too irritated by Mason making plans for me.

"And if I don't want to go to club?" I asked him, giving him a small glare. He gave me the same seductive smile that he had welcomed me with.

"Trust me; you'll want to," he winked before he turned to leave the classroom. I didn't even try to resist sticking my tongue out at his back; very mature of me, I know. "I know that you're sticking your tongue out at me."

"Good," was the only brilliant retort that I could come up with. I turned back to a very shocked Emma and Bethany. "So, we're moving to the kitchen to cook some meatloaf, tomorrow. Exciting, isn't it?"

"Y . . . you and A . . . Anderson," Emma sputtered out. "And you didn't even look scared." I raised one eyebrow at her statement.

"She hunts ghosts for a living, I doubt there's much she's afraid of," Bethany said quietly. I had to stifle the giggles that attempted to escape at their conversation.

"What do I have to be afraid of?" I asked. "That he'll tell the whole school that I can see ghosts? Or maybe he'll tell everyone my childhood crush, which I barely remember myself. I have nothing to hide. The only people that I really care what they think of me are you guys and I'm pretty sure that you already know everything."

"Are you mad at us?" Emma asked remorsefully. "You know, that we didn't tell you about our gift."

"Honestly, I didn't even know about any sort of gift until yesterday," I laughed. "So, no, I'm not mad at you. Besides, how would you exactly bring that up?"

"So, what was up with you and Mason?" Bethany asked and I noticed that she was on the edge of her seat in her curiosity.

"I had a dream and he happened to be present while I was having it," I tried to put that in the most intelligible way. "Well, it wasn't really a dream, more like a nightmare, but not really a nightmare; kind of like a vision of the past."

"Whoa, no wonder you were so troubled this morning," Emma commented. I was confused for a split second, but then I remembered that my aura probably gave me away; that was going to take some getting used to.

"We're going to have to continue this conversation at lunch," Bethany advised. "We're going to be late for our next class."

With that, Emma and I separated from Bethany and went to our class. As we walked, I was once again thankful for the friends that I had. I also felt as if some of the guilt went away as I was able to share everything with them. Maybe I didn't have to become a compulsive liar, after all.

15: My Escape From This Messed Up Place

"So, you saw a vision from the day Mason's little brother and sister were murdered," Emma asked in a whisper as we made our way through the lunch line. "Mason just so happened to have experienced it as well?"

"We experienced it together," I tried to explain. I could totally understand her difficulty in grasping the situation; I couldn't grasp it completely myself. "It was almost as if we took the places of the twins."

"But you saw each other in your normal forms?" The whole nightmare conundrum was starting to get to her and her lips were pursed in frustration.

"Yep," I gave her a mono-syllable answer as I looked over the lunch choices. My stomach was still churning from the little chat I had during Home Ec, so I settled for a bottle of water and a banana and followed Emma to the table where Bethany sat waiting for us.

"You're probably going to want to eat more than that," Bethany advised as we sat down. "You're going to need a lot of stamina for club today."

"What kind of club is it, exactly?" I asked, having been wondering what they did ever since they told me about it yesterday.

"A self-defense club," Bethany stated. "It is more than just a cover for a club of gifted kids. We really are taught self-defense in many different ways."

"We're taught hand-to-hand combat, target shooting, and how to guard our mind from those who try to brainwash us," Emma said cheerfully.

"It's how we protect ourselves from the witch hunters," Bethany explained. "And trust me, it's useful. The training actually saved one of our lives."

"They were tracking a fortune teller that time, weren't they?" Emma recalled and Bethany nodded. "I remember that. They caught up with him and he used some kick-butt moves and was like all KA-POW and junk." She punched the air as she described what he did, but she was holding a fork and managed to accidentally sling mashed potatoes past Bethany's head.

"They teach all that?" I said in mock concern. "I don't know if I can do all that. Especially that move with the fork."

"Oh, shut up," Emma retorted while trying to push me off the bench. I was giggling slightly until I looked over at Bethany who was looking her shoulder over for food – then, I completely lost it. I was laughing so hard that no noise was coming out and tears were rolling down my face.

"Don't worry," Bethany giggled at me after she felt she was potato free. "They don't use forks at club; knives, maybe, but no forks."

"Knives?" I asked once I had calmed down enough. "Do they use those a lot?"

"Yeah, we can't know what weapons the enemy have on hand," Emma explained. "It's safer to train for all kinds of situations."

"They definitely have guns," I mused aloud, remembering the .45s that the men pulled out on the twins.

"What?" Bethany asked, having not heard the story yet. Emma had pried it out of me during Chemistry, so she wasn't surprised.

"That was in the vision she had with Mason," Emma clarified for me. "She saw the hunters go after the Anderson twins with guns before they jumped."

"I recall you saying something about that now," Bethany said, slightly astonished. "I've never heard of a ghost hunter having visions before."

"I know right," Emma squealed excitedly. "I was totally shocked when she said it."

"Is that not normal?" I had no idea, being new to the whole gifted thing. "I'm still kind of learning the ropes to the ghost hunting business."

"Well, it's not really that common, no," Bethany answered carefully. "Usually, ghost hunters can only see, speak to, and touch the dead. They aren't any other perks to the gift."

"Hmm, interesting," I said as I took a bite of my banana. So, even if I were to find another shadow kissed, they wouldn't be able to explain the strange dream.

"Hey, you're not afraid to handle a gun, are you?" Emma asked suddenly. I raised an eyebrow at her and shook my head. "That's good, because as I mentioned earlier, we do use guns."

"My dad actually taught me a lot about guns, so I'm okay with them," I assured her. "He taught me a lot about combat, too, now that I think about it."

"Maybe he knew about the witch hunters and was preparing you just in case," Bethany offered. I nodded as that sounded plausible. I mean, he was apparently a well renowned ghost hunter; why wouldn't he have needed protection from witch hunters?

"Club should be a cinch for you, then," Emma was really excited. "I'm so happy you can come with us from now on!"

"Where is she going?" I heard Simon's voice come up behind me. I noticed Bethany's eyes grew wide and I turned around to see what was making her make that face. Simon's eyes were unusually dark and troubled, but that's not what really caught my attention at first. The first thing that I noticed was that his bottom lip was slightly swollen and bleeding.

"What happened to your mouth?" Emma cried out tactfully. Of course, I couldn't say much; it was taking all the will power that I had to keep my own mouth from hanging agape.

"Nothing," he lied, sitting down next to me. "Don't worry about it. What were you guys talking about?"

"Um," I said intelligently, trying to collect my thoughts. "I'm joining their self-defense club."

"Oh," was all he said in response. I glanced over at him to find him staring a hole through the table. I studied his lip and wondered if he had gotten in a fight with someone.

"Are you really okay?" Stupid question, Anna; look at him, he's obviously upset about something. His electric green eyes were startled as they met mine.

"I'm fine; you really shouldn't worry," he attempted to pacify me. I raised one eyebrow at him, letting him know that I wasn't buying it. "Please, just drop it for now." He placed his warm hand over my cold one. "I will be fine, just give me a little time."

"Okay," I sighed. For some reason, I didn't like that he was hurting and that I couldn't do anything about it.

"How's your arm doing?" he asked with a forced sort of cheerfulness. "Are you being careful with it?"

"What's wrong with your arm?" Emma exclaimed in worry. I might have told her about the nightmare, but I forgot to mention much else that happened before that.

"It's really okay. I barely even notice it," only a slight lie; I didn't notice it much after I took a dose of Tylenol.

"What happened to it?" Bethany asked the question I was still trying to avoid. I pouted for a moment while I thought over an answer.

"I went for a walk and ended up with a pencil in my arm," I gave as much information as I felt was necessary.

"Oh," Bethany said calmly as she took a sip of her water. The look in her eyes told me that she was expecting to hear the rest of the story later. I sighed and finished up my banana.

"I heard that the second gym is going to be closed by 6th period," Emma said randomly, trying to break the silence.

"We have more than one gym?" I asked, astonished. I was trying to work over the point of having two gyms in my head.

"Yep, we have two," Emma said perkily. "We have a few periods where there are two different P.E. classes."

"It's not that we have a lot of students or anything," Bethany quickly explained before I could ask. "It's just that P.E. is required for all grades, here."

"Oh," I guess that made sense; I was still a little confused, though. "Why are they closing the second gym?"

"For the preparations of the Halloween Dance, of course," Simon answered with a bloody smile.

"But isn't Halloween like over a month away?" I asked, honestly trying to understand this town.

"The Beauregard twins are leading the preparations this year and they like everything to be extravagant," Bethany responded with a slight eye roll.

"And in order for everything to be extravagant, they need all the time they can get," Emma chimed.

"Don't we have 6th period P.E.?" Bethany asked me. I had to do a mental checklist of all my classes, and I found out she was right.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I wonder if there's another gym class during 6th."

"There is," Simon stated, strangely cheerful at that prospect. "It's my class!" That explained it. "Oh crap; you know what this means, don't you?" The question was more directed towards the girls, because I was completely lost. "Coach Terry and Coach Crane are going to have to share a gym for a while." The girls groaned at this new revelation.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked, completely clueless as to what that entailed. Simon chuckled a little at my lost look.

"The coaches hate each other," he explained for my benefit. I definitely preferred his way of explaining things over Mason's; he didn't go out of his way to make me feel like an idiot.

"Their hatred stems from a long history of miscommunication," Bethany attempted to make the situation seem slightly better.

"Coach Terry is a higher rank of gifted than Coach Crane and he holds it over her head," Emma whispered in my ear. I was left to once again wonder; how many stinking gifted people were there in this school? I was so disturbed by the number of gifted that I almost missed the comment about the ranks; I hoped that I would remember to ask her about that later.

"I don't understand why Terry thinks he's better than Crane," Seth said as he plopped down next to Bethany and causing me to choke on my water. I was so wrapped up in our little chat that I totally missed the lunch-time commotion.

"You okay?" Simon asked as he patted my back. I only nodded vehemently as I tried to cough up water.

"It's all politics," Emma shouted as she slammed her fist down on the table. She still had her fork in her hand and I found myself leaning towards Simon for fear of being potato-ed.

"You better be careful with that fork," I advised her. She looked down, startled for a moment, before she stuck her tongue out at me. "I'm just saying." I put my hands up in surrender.

"Just think of it as her own form of self-defense," Bethany giggled. Emma put another bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth and pouted.

"What's with the fork?" Seth asked the now blushing girl beside him.

"Emma was just showing us this combat move and managed to sling mashed potatoes across the room," I spoke up, seeing as Bethany had suddenly found her own food intensely fascinating.

"I think she managed to get some on my shoulder," Bethany said ever so quietly. I couldn't help but smile at my friend's hopelessness.

My smile didn't fade as I sat and listened to my friends conversing. As Seth struck up a conversation about books with Bethany, Emma muttered something about them being nerds. Simon started to really cheer up a bit as he began telling Emma and I about some awesome music he'd been listening to.

It was nice to just sit and chat and not have to worry about ghosts or gifts or mean guys who knew everything. It was a comfort to watch my friends tease one another and just chill. I enjoyed it while I could, because I knew that it wouldn't last.

16: Stuck Here With Your Enemies

The sound of balls and shoes hitting the gym floor was all I heard as I stood with my eyes closed and my back against the wall. Bethany stood beside me with her back also against the wall; her eyes open.

"Coach Crane is on edge," she murmured to me. I gave a slight grunt in reply. She had just run through the "ranks" of the gifted and I was still working on processing them.

The gifted were not all equal in their agony of being different; no, they had cliques just like everyone else. The 'top dogs' of the gifted were, of course the knowledgeable ones – which is why Mr. Know-it-all was so stuck on himself. Then, there were the fortune tellers, followed by the mind readers, who were just above the aura readers. Then, at the very bottom of the gifted food-chain were those that were kissed by death; intertwined with those who should have long since passed on; the shadow kissed.

Coach Terry was born a fortune teller and Coach Crane was an aura reader, thus signaling the never ending feud between the coaches. There was nothing else that made him any better than her. Crane was just as good – if not better – at her job as Terry was. So, in his insecurity, he took the one thing that made him different from her and decided to hold it over her head for all eternity. It made me sad, angry, and confused just thinking about.

"You okay, Taylor?" our very own, Coach Crane, surprised me by asking. "You seem troubled and confused." For a second, I was worried that my emotions were written all over my face, but then I recalled that to an aura reader they were always clear; stinking aura readers.

"I'm fine, Coach," I attempted to assure her. I smiled at the kind lady that looked to be in her mid-forties. She had her sandy-brown hair cut short so she wouldn't have to deal with it; as many women do. Her blue eyes only barely showed her discomfort.

"I assume that you've heard that we're sharing the gym with Class A," the coach said, making conversation as she was apt to do once she was sure she held your complete attention.

"I heard that somewhere, yeah," I responded politely. "Where are the other students, do you know? I figured they would've been here by now."

"They are probably just outside the door listening to Coach Terry lecture them on how to treat the students of Class B," Bethany answered quietly.

"I think he is giving them a little talk, yes," Crane said nervously. I watched as she fidgeted with the hem of her blue-violet jumpsuit's jacket.

"The students will be on their very best behavior; trying to work together. I'm sure," I struggled to comfort the coach. My words fell on deaf ears, though, as a greying man in a dark blue jumpsuit burst through the gym doors. One look at the discontented scowl on his face and I found that I didn't like him one bit.

The students that poured into the room behind him all looked tense as Class B dropped all that they were doing to gaze at them. Only two students really stood out among the new class; the only two that didn't seem nervous with the idea of barging in. They stood on complete opposite sides of the gym – seemingly on purpose – and they were both searching for something.

One wore a bloody lip and his electric green eyes had returned to their earlier darkness. The other had grey eyes with one of the eyes swollen and bruised; an appearance that wasn't present just a few hours before. Simon and Mason had entered the class.

"Is it just me, or is that a black eye?" Bethany whispered. I could only hum a response that I hoped to be taken for a yes.

"Do you think . . . ?" I started to ask, attempting to put two and two together.

"That they . . . ?" Bethany continued my train of thought as she was thinking the same.

"Uh huh," I nodded dismally, desperately hoping that I was completely off target on my assumptions.

"I'm afraid so," she whispered with the same amount of cheer that I felt at that moment. "They've always butted-heads, but it's never been this bad."

"What's your read on them?" I turned to ask her. She squinted her eyes slightly as she tried to get a better look at their auras.

"They're angry, jealous, and trusting," she said, confused by the last part. I couldn't help but give her a confused look myself.

"They trust each other?" I asked, wondering why she added that part in her description.

"No," she answered quickly. "I highly doubt that they would ever trust one another. They have both recently put their complete trust in someone."

"Strange," I pondered that for a moment. "I wonder if it's the same person. Wouldn't that be weird . . . and possibly dangerous?"

"Yeah," Bethany agreed with wide eyes. "Tell me about it." With a sigh, we both peeled ourselves off the wall and made our way toward the center of the room where our fellow students had already started to gather.

"Taylor, you're one team captain," Coach Terry barked as I reached the circle of students. "Anderson, you're the other team captain."

"Um, Coach Terry," I raised my hand. He nodded, expecting me to continue. "I don't really know how to play, so I don't think I would be the best captain." I honestly wasn't really sure what we were playing (I heard that we might be playing volley-ball), but I knew that if it had anything to do with sports I was lost.

"You're team captain and that's that," came his gruff reply. "Now hurry up and pick your team." You can do this, Anna; you are in control. You have the power to knock that huge head of his off his shoulders, but you won't do it; you are better than that. I took a deep breath as my classmates took their positions against the wall, waiting to be picked.

As I looked on at the students that stared back at me, I had a sad realization; I didn't know any of their names. I only knew Bethany, Simon, and Mason. Mason knew all of their names; heck, he knew everything about them.

"Haralson," Mason's bored voice pulled me out of my thought process. I bit my lip in frustration as I searched the wall.

"Rivers," one of my best friends would of course be my first choice. The fact that I actually knew her name was just an added bonus.

"Charleston," he still sounded bored as he called his teammates to his side. For some reason, it was starting to get on my nerves.

"Hugo," I called out the last name I knew among the sea of students. After he joined my side, I was out of names.

"Granger," the opposing team's captain had suddenly become on edge. His voice had taken on a tone that was something akin to anger.

"I have a quick question," Simon whispered in my ear from behind. "Do you know any of their names?"

"Um, no," I whispered back as I kept my eyes on the potential teammates. "Who's the dude in the blue shirt and Nikes?"

"Bruce Hamilton," Simon answered with a quiet chuckle. I nodded and called out to the young man. We went on like this until we were down to the last teammate.

"Thanks," I gave Simon a relieved smile as we started to break away into our positions. "I was sure I was going to have to embarrass myself, but you saved me; big-time."

"No problem," he grinned back. "You've only been here a few days; no one should expect you to remember the names of everyone in the school. I don't even think that I know that."

I gave him one last smile as we separated to take up our own positions. I took another deep breath before I turned to face our opponents. Most of them held an expression of boredom or at least had their game-faces on, but one face had me slightly frightened. Mason stared at the opposing court with such amount of hostility that I found myself praying that the game would be over without any injuries.

"Let the game begin," Coach Terry's gruff voice bellowed as the volley-ball was thrown onto the court. I was confused within the first few minutes of the game; having already lost where the ball was several times. My greatest achievement from that game was getting ball over the net once; I'd really rather not recall all the times I didn't manage to hit the ball.

The biggest excitement of the game for me, though, was not actually part of the game itself. It started during the game, I guess, but I wasn't really there for much of that. It was during one of the few (just go with me on this) times that I did miss the ball; the ball didn't miss me, however. The ball hit me in the head, but it didn't really seem to hit me particularly hard. For some odd reason; as soon as it made contact, I blacked out.

"Nice catch, Simon," Bethany's voice was the last thing I heard before I felt a cold, darkness envelope me.

17: Stuck Here With Your Enemies

The sound of balls and shoes hitting the gym floor was all I heard as I stood with my eyes closed and my back against the wall. Bethany stood beside me with her back also against the wall; her eyes open.

"Coach Crane is on edge," she murmured to me. I gave a slight grunt in reply. She had just run through the "ranks" of the gifted and I was still working on processing them.

The gifted were not all equal in their agony of being different; no, they had cliques just like everyone else. The 'top dogs' of the gifted were, of course the knowledgeable ones – which is why Mr. Know-it-all was so stuck on himself. Then, there were the fortune tellers, followed by the mind readers, who were just above the aura readers. Then, at the very bottom of the gifted food-chain were those that were kissed by death; intertwined with those who should have long since passed on; the shadow kissed.

Coach Terry was born a fortune teller and Coach Crane was an aura reader, thus signaling the never ending feud between the coaches. There was nothing else that made him any better than her. Crane was just as good – if not better – at her job as Terry was. So, in his insecurity, he took the one thing that made him different from her and decided to hold it over her head for all eternity. It made me sad, angry, and confused just thinking about.

"You okay, Taylor?" our very own, Coach Crane, surprised me by asking. "You seem troubled and confused." For a second, I was worried that my emotions were written all over my face, but then I recalled that to an aura reader they were always clear; stinking aura readers.

"I'm fine, Coach," I attempted to assure her. I smiled at the kind lady that looked to be in her mid-forties. She had her sandy-brown hair cut short so she wouldn't have to deal with it; as many women do. Her blue eyes only barely showed her discomfort.

"I assume that you've heard that we're sharing the gym with Class A," the coach said, making conversation as she was apt to do once she was sure she held your complete attention.

"I heard that somewhere, yeah," I responded politely. "Where are the other students, do you know? I figured they would've been here by now."

"They are probably just outside the door listening to Coach Terry lecture them on how to treat the students of Class B," Bethany answered quietly.

"I think he is giving them a little talk, yes," Crane said nervously. I watched as she fidgeted with the hem of her blue-violet jumpsuit's jacket.

"The students will be on their very best behavior; trying to work together. I'm sure," I struggled to comfort the coach. My words fell on deaf ears, though, as a greying man in a dark blue jumpsuit burst through the gym doors. One look at the discontented scowl on his face and I found that I didn't like him one bit.

The students that poured into the room behind him all looked tense as Class B dropped all that they were doing to gaze at them. Only two students really stood out among the new class; the only two that didn't seem nervous with the idea of barging in. They stood on complete opposite sides of the gym – seemingly on purpose – and they were both searching for something.

One wore a bloody lip and his electric green eyes had returned to their earlier darkness. The other had grey eyes with one of the eyes swollen and bruised; an appearance that wasn't present just a few hours before. Simon and Mason had entered the class.

"Is it just me, or is that a black eye?" Bethany whispered. I could only hum a response that I hoped to be taken for a yes.

"Do you think . . . ?" I started to ask, attempting to put two and two together.

"That they . . . ?" Bethany continued my train of thought as she was thinking the same.

"Uh huh," I nodded dismally, desperately hoping that I was completely off target on my assumptions.

"I'm afraid so," she whispered with the same amount of cheer that I felt at that moment. "They've always butted-heads, but it's never been this bad."

"What's your read on them?" I turned to ask her. She squinted her eyes slightly as she tried to get a better look at their auras.

"They're angry, jealous, and trusting," she said, confused by the last part. I couldn't help but give her a confused look myself.

"They trust each other?" I asked, wondering why she added that part in her description.

"No," she answered quickly. "I highly doubt that they would ever trust one another. They have both recently put their complete trust in someone."

"Strange," I pondered that for a moment. "I wonder if it's the same person. Wouldn't that be weird . . . and possibly dangerous?"

"Yeah," Bethany agreed with wide eyes. "Tell me about it." With a sigh, we both peeled ourselves off the wall and made our way toward the center of the room where our fellow students had already started to gather.

"Taylor, you're one team captain," Coach Terry barked as I reached the circle of students. "Anderson, you're the other team captain."

"Um, Coach Terry," I raised my hand. He nodded, expecting me to continue. "I don't really know how to play, so I don't think I would be the best captain." I honestly wasn't really sure what we were playing (I heard that we might be playing volley-ball), but I knew that if it had anything to do with sports I was lost.

"You're team captain and that's that," came his gruff reply. "Now hurry up and pick your team." You can do this, Anna; you are in control. You have the power to knock that huge head of his off his shoulders, but you won't do it; you are better than that. I took a deep breath as my classmates took their positions against the wall, waiting to be picked.

As I looked on at the students that stared back at me, I had a sad realization; I didn't know any of their names. I only knew Bethany, Simon, and Mason. Mason knew all of their names; heck, he knew everything about them.

"Haralson," Mason's bored voice pulled me out of my thought process. I bit my lip in frustration as I searched the wall.

"Rivers," one of my best friends would of course be my first choice. The fact that I actually knew her name was just an added bonus.

"Charleston," he still sounded bored as he called his teammates to his side. For some reason, it was starting to get on my nerves.

"Hugo," I called out the last name I knew among the sea of students. After he joined my side, I was out of names.

"Granger," the opposing team's captain had suddenly become on edge. His voice had taken on a tone that was something akin to anger.

"I have a quick question," Simon whispered in my ear from behind. "Do you know any of their names?"

"Um, no," I whispered back as I kept my eyes on the potential teammates. "Who's the dude in the blue shirt and Nikes?"

"Bruce Hamilton," Simon answered with a quiet chuckle. I nodded and called out to the young man. We went on like this until we were down to the last teammate.

"Thanks," I gave Simon a relieved smile as we started to break away into our positions. "I was sure I was going to have to embarrass myself, but you saved me; big-time."

"No problem," he grinned back. "You've only been here a few days; no one should expect you to remember the names of everyone in the school. I don't even think that I know that."

I gave him one last smile as we separated to take up our own positions. I took another deep breath before I turned to face our opponents. Most of them held an expression of boredom or at least had their game-faces on, but one face had me slightly frightened. Mason stared at the opposing court with such amount of hostility that I found myself praying that the game would be over without any injuries.

"Let the game begin," Coach Terry's gruff voice bellowed as the volley-ball was thrown onto the court. I was confused within the first few minutes of the game; having already lost where the ball was several times. My greatest achievement from that game was getting ball over the net once; I'd really rather not recall all the times I didn't manage to hit the ball.

The biggest excitement of the game for me, though, was not actually part of the game itself. It started during the game, I guess, but I wasn't really there for much of that. It was during one of the few (just go with me on this) times that I did miss the ball; the ball didn't miss me, however. The ball hit me in the head, but it didn't really seem to hit me particularly hard. For some odd reason; as soon as it made contact, I blacked out.

"Nice catch, Simon," Bethany's voice was the last thing I heard before I felt a cold, darkness envelope me.

18: Burdens of Life

"Reach in her world, sheltered from strife.
Bearing the gifts, burdens of life," – 10 Years, "Dying Youth"

---

The air was so thick and humid even though night had fallen. My long sleeved, floor length dress didn't do anything to quench the heat as I stood crouched behind an abandoned wooden cart that looked to be from the early 1800s. I decided that it would be pointless to try and figure out how I ended up here in nearly deserted alley, hiding from whatever was on the other side of the cart. Instead, I let the scene play out; opening my eyes and ears to anything that would help me get a feel for where 'here' was exactly.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me that all was not well. I wanted desperately to jump up and run around the cart to where someone stood in wait. That someone was the reason I was here, unbeknownst to them - and I intended to keep it that way.

"Nice of you to come to us peaceably, Mr. Slater," a man's voice broke the silence of the night. My eyes grew wide as the realization hit me; someone was going to die.

"You promised that you would leave my family alone, sir," Mr. Slater, whose voice was so familiar, reminded the man. "If only I surrendered myself to you."

"And I, Leonard Horace Anderson, am a man of my word," the wicked man that stood in front of Mr. Slater boasted. "You can rest assured that your family is safe."

"Yes, your precious Ada will be safe to marry the infamous Mr. Hugo," another man joined in on the conversation, his tone one of disdain and impatience. "They'll both be immune from the plans and actions of the Hunter's Organization. Now, brother, please do get on with the punishment; I want to make it home before morning."

I heard the grumbling of Leonard Anderson and a quiet warning that something might hurt a little bit. I was so shocked by all that I had heard that I couldn't even find it in myself to jump up and save the man that had just walked into his own death to save my own. It was only after hearing a small groan of anguish that I remembered that this was really happening and attempted to run out to Mr. Slater.

My attempt to run out into my possible death came to a halt as something took hold of my arm and pulled me back to the hard ground. I gave my abductor a look over; trying to get a feel of how much danger I was in. My heart was pounding as I took in his long, black hair; slicked back into a ponytail. His comforting, brown eyes looked at me with sorrow; he knew what was going on and his heart was breaking too.

He cautioned me to silence as we sat and waited for the men to flee the scene. I could hear the men curse and grumble at the messy business as they left my savior for dead. Their boisterous footsteps heard for miles in the air of the silent night. Once I was sure that the coast was clear, I jumped to my feet - before my companion could stop me – and ran to where Mr. Slater lay.

"Alexander," I cried out as I made my way his nearly lifeless body. His blood spilled out into the dimly lit streets. "Alexander, don't do this. Please, do not do this." His electric green eyes seemed to be searching as he fought to stay alive.

"Ada," he called out haggardly as I reached him. The knife that took his life was still lodged in his chest; it took all I had not to break out into sobs as he took his last few breaths of life. "My sweetest sister, Ada; I love you, dearly."

"Oh, Alex," I tried not to breakdown, knowing that this was his inevitable end. "I love you, too!" We spoke no more as the last few seconds of his life dragged on. I held his head as time ticked by and ran my fingers through his dark hair; trying not to think about how these were the last few moments that I had with him.

I couldn't do anything as the light in his eyes faded away; I couldn't stop the innocent life from leaving his body. I could only cry and silently curse the men who felt it was their duty to rid the world of those that were helplessly cursed by the strange gifts. I was so wrapped up in sorrow that I didn't notice my earlier companion coming up behind me.

"My dearest Ada," he called out quietly. "Please, do look up." I turned my head around to face him. "Look in front of you." I did as was asked of me and if my heart hadn't have been so numbed from the scene that had just unfolded, it would have burst out of my chest. There, in front of me and my brother's soulless body, stood my brother; his entire existence was much paler and it felt as he could disappear at any moment.

"Mr. Hugo?" I asked of my companion. "Do you see what I see or am I simply thinking wishfully?"

"No, ma'am," Hugo replied. "He is really standing there. You are not imagining him."

"Ada," the apparition exhaled. I didn't even bother to ask why it was he still remained; I simply threw my arms around the ghost of my brother. I could only revel in the fact that he wasn't really gone; the fact that he didn't really belong on this earth eluded me.

I opened my eyes to find that I was lying on a bed in a brightly lit room. A warm hand held mine; probably the only thing that kept it from shaking. I looked over into the electric green eyes that seemed to give me comfort as I recalled the events of my latest nightmare.

My eyes filled with tears as I wrapped my arms around the first person I saw. I don't honestly know what caused me to do such a rash thing; the fear and pain from the nightmare must have shaken me to the point of breakdown, I guess. My sobs were muffled slightly by his chest.

"Simon," I cried out, not really sure if he could even hear me. He hesitantly wrapped one arm around me and patted my back with the other. I couldn't keep myself from saying the only words that I could think to describe what I had just experienced. "That was horrible."

He was silent as I bawled my eyes out into his chest. I didn't really need words to comfort me, though; his presence was simply enough. Had I been alone when I had awoken, it would have been a lot worse to get over. It would have taken hours instead of the few moments that it took to dry my tears.

"Sorry," I sniffled as I pulled myself away from him. He took my hands in his as we sat across from each other. I looked down at the sheets on the bed, unable to look him in the eyes after my little outburst.

"Don't worry about it," his voice sounded sincere and worried; it forced me to look up at him. His eyes held such sorrow and determination; it almost felt as if he had just made a resolution that he wasn't too thrilled about following through with. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," I had flirted with the idea of lying to him, but I found no point in it. "I will be better though, eventually." As I forced a smile for him, I noticed a young man with grey eyes leaning against the doorjamb behind him. My hands clenched Simon's automatically as the grey eyed man grinned at me.

"Nice to see you responsive finally, Anna Elizabeth," Mason's words held a hint of pride and a hint of hurt. "I thought that you would never come out of that dream."

"It didn't involve you," I barely whispered. I hadn't meant for it to come out as rude as it did; I simply meant to say that I didn't have any new information for him. As I opened my mouth to explain myself, though, he shook his head and smirked.

"Of course not; I wouldn't still be standing had it actually been of some use to me," his boastful manner irritated me.

"Then why are you standing here?" that was intended to sound the way it did. His smirk faded slightly as he realized that I wasn't in the mood for his games.

"I was simply here to remind you that you still have to come to club," he responded as he started to retreat.

"I hadn't forgotten," I sighed at the whole concept. "I was simply ignoring it for the time being."

"I'll see you there," he demanded with a wave of his hand and a grin before he disappeared.

I rolled my eyes before they widened as a realization hit me; Simon was probably expecting an explanation. I looked back into his electric green eyes to find no hint of confusion – a great deal of irritation – but no confusion.

"He's still forcing you to go to that stupid club," he grumbled under his breath. "Does he have an ounce of compassion?"

"I don't mind it so much," I smiled, simply overjoyed that I wasn't the reason he was irritated; not directly, anyway. "I'm not excited to see him there, but the club itself sounds pretty interesting."

"You'll be careful while you're over there, won't you?" he asked, anxiously. "You won't overwork yourself or anything, right?"

"I'll be careful, I promise," I nodded, feeling as if there was no apparent way that I could do anything different. At that particular moment, I didn't really have the energy to push myself too hard.

Simon seemed to be mentally wrestling with himself; almost as if he wanted to say something, but was afraid of how it would be received. Before he ever came up with a decision, though, Bethany burst into the room with Seth and Emma in tow. The three of them fluttered over me; asking me if I was alright a million times before I could satisfy them with a semi-honest answer.

"How did the rest of the game go?" I attempted to direct the conversation away from me by turning to Bethany.

"Ugh," Bethany's eyes clouded over. "Coach Terry made me take over position of team captain after you fell. We were obliterated by Anderson's team; he seemed to get even angrier as the game continued."

"Are you more upset that you lost or that you were forced to be team captain?" Emma teased her quiet friend. Bethany sighed in response and we all began to laugh a little.

Amidst the teasing and the laughter, it was almost easy to forget everything that had just occurred – almost. I was still haunted by the things I had seen and I couldn't shake off that feeling of dread that was beginning to creep up my spine. The thing I was most worried about, though, was not what trouble I'd get myself on in club or if the witch hunters were going to eliminate the gifted; no, I was worried that I was slowly becoming enveloped in death. I was worried that the deeper I delved into my gift, that farther I would get from remembering to live.

19: Caught Inside the Memories

I stuck close to Emma and Bethany as we made our way through the armory; or you could say the clubhouse. There were different groups of people in various rooms of the armory; they all seemed to be training for something. The groups had people of all ages from elementary age to adults in their early sixties. I began to wonder what kind of club this was exactly.

"We train people of all ages here. We're really a division of a government agency," Mason stated as he popped out of nowhere. I'm sure that I had shock written all over my face. "It's not that strange if you think about it; a large group of people who can do things that the ordinary human can't. If someone in power was smart, they would use that to their best advantage."

"Wait, it's only a division of a government agency? That means that it's not just some strange thing that only happens in Northanger Valley?" I found this new revelation to be mind-blowing. I had been thinking that it was just a weird Northanger Valley thing; I mean every town has their quirks.

"No, there are gifted people all around the world," Bethany answered simply. The four of us continued walking through the building.

"Yeah, we aren't the only freaks; you know," Emma grinned. "We even have a few friends in England and you would just die if you heard their accents!" She was gushing again and I noticed Mason didn't find it near as amusing as I did.

"Cool," I didn't really know what to say to that, but that seemed as good a comment as any.

"Miss Young; Rivers, your class is that way," Mason pointed towards a room to our right. "I'll take Anna from here." The glare that he received from Bethany gave me chill-bumps.

"Be careful, okay?" she said calmly to me as she gave me a quick hug. She had probably read my aura and known that I was none too thrilled to be left alone with Mason.

"Have fun," Emma also attempted to cure my uneasiness. I tried to give them a reassuring smile, but it didn't take much for them to see right through it.

"Same to you," I managed to get out as Mason tugged my arm; pulling me in another direction. "You're really pushy," I complained after we had walked a little bit farther.

"You're really stubborn," he retorted. I shot him a look and then I looked down at his hand that was still holding on to my arm.

"You can let go of me," I reminded him. "I promise that I won't run away . . . for now."

"Whatever," he quickly dropped his hand to his side. We walked in silence until we came upon a closed door. Mason knocked on the door and then we waited.

"So, what do I do?" I asked. "I mean, I get the basic gist; you know, the whole training ourselves to fight in case we come across a witch hunter. But what are we doing here?"

"You have to sign some paperwork before we start," Mason explained. "Then, they're going to test your abilities to see what class you should be placed in."

"How are they going to do that?" I asked. I probably should have asked all this before I agreed to step into the building, but I guess you live and you learn, right?

"In the paperwork, they'll ask you questions about gun safety. When they see that you know all about that, they'll probably have you shoot a target to see how good your aim is," he seemed more patient about explaining things than he had earlier. "After that, they'll test your fighting abilities by having you duel with someone."

"Ugh," I didn't enjoy the prospect of having to fight. I didn't like it when I had training matches with my father and I absolutely hated the idea of 'dueling' with a stranger. "Is that absolutely necessary?"

"Yes," he said with a note of finality. "You have to practice, or else you'll be left completely defenseless in when it comes to a hunter attack." I knew the words he spoke to be true, but that didn't mean I had to like it. I remained silent as I thought over what he had just said. "You aren't thinking about running away, are you?"

"No," I said slowly; looking up at him to see where he came up with that conclusion. His grey eyes gave away his sudden relief. "I was just thinking that it would be really scary to come across a witch hunter."

"You would know," his words were ever so quiet and ever so soft, that if they had been said a decibel lower, I wouldn't have heard them at all.

"Sorry, what was that?" I asked. I hoped that it would sound like I thought that it really was meant for me and not that I was being nosey.

"Nothing," he said too quickly. "I was simply commenting to myself that you're probably right; it's probably very scary." I was beginning to think that dishonesty was a perk that came with having a gift, but before I could call Mason out on his lies, the door we had been standing in front of swung open.

"Sorry to keep you waiting so long," a man who looked to be in his mid to late forties stood with the door in his hand. He had a buzz cut and electric green eyes that I had long since gotten over the surprise of seeing.

"No problem, Sergeant Hugo," Mason's words pulled me away from the Sergeant's eyes. Ah, Hugo; that would make sense. I doubted that there was any other family that had eyes quite like theirs; except for the Slater's maybe, but - after having that nightmare - I had formed a theory about that.

"Come on in," Sergeant said quickly. "Let's get started on your paperwork, Miss Taylor." Oh, right; the dreaded paperwork.

"Sounds like a plan, sir," I smiled feebly as we followed him into his office. He had Mason and I sit down in two chairs that faced his desk and he handed me a clipboard and pen.

"Has there been any activity since I left, Sergeant?" Mason asked as I started to fill out the forms.

"Yeah," the Sergeant said lugubriously. "Last week, the witch hunters caught up to a fortune teller. Uh, Dean Hamilton, I think is his name."

"Where did they catch up to him?" Mason asked in earnest. Their conversation made it rather difficult to keep my mind on the task that I had on hand. I was so distracted that I had to actually take a moment to think before I wrote down my birthdate.

"Just a couple of miles outside of town," Sergeant answered reluctantly, almost as if he didn't want it to be true.

"They're getting closer," Mason cursed under his breath. Sergeant gave a dismal grunt of agreement, before the phone on his desk rang.

"Excuse me," he said to Mason as he picked up the corded desk phone. "Hello, Sergeant Hugo speaking." The Sergeant's phone conversation was easy to tune out as I stumbled across a question on my form.

"Mason," I murmured quietly, not wanting to interrupt Sergeant. Mason's stormy grey eyes were suddenly upon me; asking what it was that I wanted. "There's just this one question that I'm not really sure how to answer. It asks if I've ever had an encounter with any witch hunters; do I check yes or no. I mean, I haven't had any real experience, but I have experienced it in my dreams; so what should I answer?"

"Just check yes, to be on the safe side," he smiled sadly, almost as if he had expected something different. I forced a smile and went back to my forms; checking yes.

As the pen marked the page, an image of the woman who led the hunt against the Anderson twins popped into my head. She was the same woman with reddish-brown hair and light blue eyes, but she looked a few years younger; and instead of her hunting garments she wore a blouse and dress pants. In her hands she held a clipboard that seemed to me more threatening than any sort of weapon.

Before I could delve into what give the impression of a long forgotten memory, a burst of pain shot through my head; blocking me from going any further. I let out a small gasp, not expecting the sudden migraine, and my hands went to my head as if I could stop the pain by holding it. Then pen that I once held in my hand fell to the ground and rolled around on the floor.

"Anna," Mason was suddenly at my side. "What's wrong? Do you see something?" I couldn't help but think that for someone who claimed to know everything, he sure asked a lot of questions.

"No, yes; oh, I don't know," I answered frustrated. I relaxed a little as the pain started to slowly subside. I looked over to see that Mason's grey eyes had lost their melancholy look and now held extreme worry. "It almost feels like a memory, but it's too faded and I can't remember anything about it."

"What did you see, Miss Taylor?" Sergeant's voice almost sounded hopeful. I turned to face his cautious, electric green eyes. He still held the phone up to his ear, but his mind couldn't have been farther from the person on the other line.

"Uh, just a woman," I answered slowly, not really sure of the significance. "She was the same woman from the rooftop," I glanced at Mason to see the recognition come across his face. "But she wasn't the same; she was younger and she just looked different."

"How much younger?" Mason seemed to find the image more important than I did. I was starting to think that maybe I had just taken the memory from the nightmare and tweaked it a little. Why I would do that, I didn't really know, but it seemed like an easy answer.

"Not very," I answered, despite my own resolution on the whole thing. "Only by a couple years; maybe five at the most."

"That makes sense," Mason said. Really? I wondered how in the world that made sense to him, but I feared the answer, so I didn't ask. I bent down to pick up the pen that fell on the floor and resumed my form filling.

It was hard to focus on the forms as I had two pairs of worried eyes watching me, but I felt that it would be easier to be doing something as they stared at me than to stare back awkwardly. My mind also wandered as I tried to finish the forms; it kept trying to find out significance of the 'memory'. It fought with itself; trying to say that the memory had some significance or trying to say that it was completely made up. But if it really did mean something and I really had experienced it, then what else had I forgotten? These thoughts haunted me as I sat in Sergeant Hugo's office and continued to haunt me as I went on throughout the day.

20: What A Shame

"What a shame to have to beg you to
See we're not all the same
What a shame" – Shinedown, "What a Shame"

---

The shots rang out as the bullet hit the intended target and not the completely ridiculous 'citizen' that was running around in front of the target. The system that they had rigged up behind the armory was quite impressive; they had set up different situations that we might come across in life. The one that I was working on at that time was a scene where a cardboard girl was running in circles around a witch hunter in her desperate plea for safety.

The graphics left something to be desired, though. The girl that was supposed to be the victim kind of reminded me of the citizens on a cheesy alien shooter game, but with bullet holes covering her from head to toe. The witch hunters looked like dementors from Harry Potter, but I guess they managed to get their point across.

"You're done with this for the day," Sergeant Hugo shouted as I turned the safety on the gun. I kept it pointed towards the ground as I handed him the handle of the gun.

"What's next?" I asked as I took the ear plugs out. I felt better knowing that I could hear again; it felt so uncomfortable having my ears plugged up.

"Anderson's going to take you to see Bond," Sergeant checked a few things off his clipboard. "Then, they'll set you up with someone to duel with."

"Awesome; sounds fun," the sarcasm could not resist coloring my words. Sergeant gave me a crinkly smile and patted my back with one of his humongous hands; did I mention that he was six feet tall, at the least.

"Come on," Mason called out to me with another one of his seductive little smiles. "You'll do great."

"I'm not worried about how I'll do," I muttered as I walked over to where he stood with his back against the building. "If I suck, then I'll just have to train a little more. I just don't want to fight; I don't like conflict."

"You know that you'll have to face conflict at some point in your life," he stated as he started walking into the building. Yes, Mason; thank you for pointing out the obvious. I simply gave him a look. "Besides, wouldn't it be better to train with those you can trust."

"My dad always told me to never really trust anyone, except for my own instinct," I murmured quietly before I could stop the words from coming out.

"Your dad's pretty smart," Mason said almost as if he was proud of him. "Do you actually listen to his advice?"

"I try to, most of the time," I smiled slightly. "But I occasionally mess up and forget; that's when things get hairy."

"Do you think that you're messing up here?" he asked, suddenly serious. I looked over to find that he was glaring at the ground we walked on.

"I don't think that I am," I answered slowly. "Of course the line between instinct and understanding has become slightly blurred since I arrived at Northanger Valley."

"Are you worried that you're relying more on what you think to be true than what your heart says is true?" Mason sounded confused.

"Slightly, but I hardly know what to believe anymore," I laughed humorlessly. "The whole idea of being gifted is new to me; I wasn't aware of this world, even though it was unraveling all around me."

"I'd really like to tell you that it will get easier with time, but . . ." he paused for a second. "Yeah, I have no idea what's going to happen."

"Whatever happened to 'I know everything', huh?" I teased before I could really judge whether that was my place to do or not. My eyes widened as the realization hit, but I tried to keep the grin on my face.

"Well . . ." he laughed, much to my relief. "I might have exaggerated just a bit earlier. I do know everything about a person, if I've seen them. And I only know everything that happened in their life up to that point."

"Everything except their thoughts and emotions," I said mostly to keep myself in line. He murmured a despondent agreement. "So, the gift comes with conditions?"

"All of the gifts do," he explained. "The fortune tellers can't see anything beyond the scene that is given to them by whatever powers that be. Aura readers can only read your emotions, but not the reasons why you're feeling the way you are. Mind readers can only read your mind by either looking in your eyes or touching your skin, depending on the reader. I can't think of any conditions for ghost hunters, but they probably have enough crap to deal with."

"Meh, it's an easy job," I shrugged jokingly. "You know; if you don't consider the murderous ghosts and misunderstanding people."

"That reminds me," he said suddenly. "I wanted to apologize for what the twins did to you." His eyes trailed down my left arm.

"Don't worry about it," I said honestly. "I'm thinking that they had a reason for doing what they did."

"Is that your instinct or understanding speaking?" he was serious again. I was really starting to wonder why he put so much stock into what I thought; I didn't.

"Instinct," I said plainly. "I don't actually know much, but I know that Harley wouldn't have done that if he hadn't felt like it was necessary."

"Thank you," Mason stopped in the middle of the hallway. I turned around to give him a questioning look. "Not everyone would be as understanding as you have been."

"They don't deserve this," I tried to keep my voice level. "No one deserves this. We're all human, just like them; sometimes, we're more so." I thought back to the man with the .45 pointed towards the kids; the evil that resided in his heart.

"You're preaching to the choir on that one," he resumed walking as he tried to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I guess so," I grinned. "But I still feel like I should be doing something."

"Yes, you should train," his grey eyes held a mischievous glint that caused me to sigh.

"I meant for the twins," My mind wandered to my most recent nightmare. My voice lowered for my next words, "And Alex as well."

"Who's Alex?" he asked disconcertedly. He didn't know about Alex because he was dead, I figured.

"Another ghost," I stated quietly, having gotten lost in my thoughts of the strange Slater-Hugo family ties.

"Then, I give my original answer," Mason interrupted my thoughts. "Train; that way you can fight for them."

"Just for curiosity's sake," I started. "Why are you so into the whole training thing?"

"It's better than leaving you completely unprotected," he said solemnly. "If you have some way to fight for yourself, then everything will be easier." He seemed to be trying to convince himself of the truth in his own words.

"Because they're getting closer," I deducted from what he was saying and the earlier conversation he had with Sergeant Hugo.

"Yes," he said gravely. "They're getting closer to town every day and if we don't equip ourselves, they will overcome us."

"Are they after the entire . . ." I struggled with what to call this place; was it a club or an agency or what?

"Are they after our division?" So, that's what it's called. "No, they shouldn't even know that it exists."

"Then, what are they after that's in town?" I was confused. "If they don't know about the division, then they shouldn't know about all the gifted, right?"

"I don't believe that they do know about all the gifted," he specified. "But they do know about a specific gifted; a gifted that they once had, but lost and they would do anything to get back."

"Wow, that person must be really special," I wondered why they kept the gifted alive. "Why aren't they dead?"

"The hunters had another plan for her," he was grave once again, but then he smiled. "You are right, though; she is quite special." The look that came across his face was so blissful that I was afraid to ask him what he meant by that. He suddenly stopped and turned to face another door. "Here we are," the playful grin on his face gave me no comfort.

"Yay," I replied sarcastically. He laughed at me as he opened the door. As I followed him into the room, I tried to clear my head of what we had just said. I couldn't let thoughts of ghosts, witch hunters, and plans to overcome cloud my mind as I trained; I needed to be free from all stress. All stress except for the stress of having to duel with someone, that is.

21: The Sun Always Sets

The white walls and rows of empty chairs held no comfort to me as the fresh blood flowed freely from my old wound. I had fought well, but only after my opponent had pulled out a knife and my fighting instinct kicked in. Gabriella Bond had apologized profusely for injuring me; she hadn't expected to fight so well and her own instinct took over.

I told her that I understood, but Mason wasn't as forgiving. Gabriella's brother, Gabriel Bond, managed to calm him down enough to take me to the division's infirmary. So, there we were, staring at the white walls and empty chairs. Mason was fidgeting in his seat; waiting the nurse to come out.

"Calm down," I eventually became annoyed with his twitching.

"I still can't believe that she did that," he went back to his ranting.

"She didn't mean any harm," I defended her. "She would have put the knife down as soon as she realized what was happening."

"If you hadn't knocked the knife out her hand, that is," Gabriel came into the room.

Gabriel and Gabriella both had auburn hair, emerald eyes, ivory skin, and freckled. Gabriella's hair was done in curly ringlets that came to her waist; she was a very spunky eighteen-year old. Gabriel's hair was styled as a short, gelled mess; a normal look for a twenty-some year old. The friendly look on Gabriel's face was laced with concern.

"Should there be that much blood?" A look of realization came across his face as Mason glared into his eyes and Gabriel read his mind. Gabriel then made his way to the door of the nurse's office and made a quick nervous rap on the door. "Nurse Hugo, we have a serious amount of blood flowing out here."

There's another Hugo running this place; seriously? I wondered what relation to Simon the nurse was. As my mind wandered down that path, a woman opened the door that Gabriel's fist rested on. Her hair was sandy blond and came to middle of her back. Her reassuring eyes were blue.

"What's the problem?" the lady in her mid-forties came out and asked. Her eyes fell upon me and widened. "Oh my dear, you look so pale. Come quickly, now." I stood up and used Mason to stabilize me as I felt a wave of dizziness. He helped me stay upright as I made my way to the nurse. "I have her, Mr. Anderson; you can take a seat," Nurse Hugo took my right arm and led me into the room.

"I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am," I hated being an inconvenience.

"You must be the Anna that my son told me about," the lady stated as she led me to sit at a short white table. My confusion was probably written all over my face because she continued, "Simon warned me that you might be a little resistant to ask for help. So, what happened here?"

"I got scratched by a knife," I understated a little bit. She gave me a look that meant that she saw right through me. "The knife cut into an older wound."

"So, which was it; a cut or scratch?" she asked unnecessarily. I bit my lip in response. "As I thought," she murmured. "Let me see your arm, please." I rolled up the sleeve on my left arm and held it out for her to examine.

"The original wound was from a pencil," I explained as she gave my arm a weird look.

"How did you end up with a pencil in your arm? And don't think that you'll get away without telling me," her tone left no room for arguments.

"A ghost," I answered reluctantly. She simply nodded as if my answer was exactly what she expected.

"I want you to know that if you ever need anything, I'm here," she said, surprising me.

"Thank you; that really means a lot to me," I answered honestly. She smiled as she began to clean and stitch the wound. I focused on our conversation to try and forget the pain.

"So, how are you liking Northanger Valley?" her question reminded me of the first time I met her son.

"I really like it here," I shared how I honestly felt. "It feels like home. The people are really nice."

"My son's been treating you well, I hope," she asked in the form of a statement. "I was worried that he would try his best to avoid you." Her words surprised me and they could not have been farther from the truth.

"Oh no; he's been very kind to me," I smiled and shook my head. "He's helped me out a lot lately. He's actually the one who bandaged my wound when it first happened."

"So, he knows what happened?" I could see a look of bewilderment come across her face as she worked and I felt like she was thinking about having a talk with Simon if I didn't intervene quickly.

"No, not really," I said a little quicker than I had intended. "He doesn't know what happened; he just knows that I came home bleeding."

"Ah, so that's what he meant," she said to herself. Before I could even ask her what she was talking about, though, she changed the subject. "You should really be careful; not all ghosts are friendly."

"It's not the ghosts that I'm afraid of," I smiled. I spoke the truth; the ghosts didn't bother me near as much the witch hunters did. There was something about the hunters that unnerved me. I decided that I would change the subject before my mind travelled down a dark path. "So, what gift do you have?"

"The same as yours," the woman dressing my wound smiled kindly. "My husband, Sergeant Hugo, is shadow-kissed as well."

"So, there are other shadow-kissed in this town," I grinned. "I don't feel so alone anymore!"

"You're definitely not alone, dear. Don't you know that . . ." she stopped as a sudden realization hit. "Oh, I guess you don't know; oh well, he'll come clean soon enough." Um, What? What don't I know and who's coming clean?

"I'm sorry; you lost me back there," She smiled at me apologetically and finished dressing my wound. She started to clean up the mess that we'd made with gauze and medical tools.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anymore," her smile turned sad. "It's up to him; he has to be the one to share."

"Who has to be the one to share?" I asked, completely aware that I was being nosey. I stood up slowly – not wanting a repeat of what happened in the waiting room – and began to help her clean up.

"I've already said too much," she sighed. Then, she saw what I was doing and gave me an exasperated look. "Sit back down; you shouldn't be moving around too much. I'm surprised that you still came today; what with your 'pencil wound' and don't think that I haven't heard about the little incident in gym today."

"How did you know about that?" I asked, surprised. I had heard that news travelled fast in a small town, but I didn't figure that it would be that fast.

"Mrs. Crane was worried about you when she came in this afternoon," Nurse Hugo explained. "She had come to check on you, but the school nurse had told her that your friends had already taken you to club."

"She was worried?" I asked nervously. I was happy that she cared, but I didn't want her to stress over me. "She's so sweet."

"She wasn't the only one that was worried, I'm sure," she pointed out. "You should probably get out of here and let Anderson know that I didn't let you bleed to death or something."

"I should probably go," I agreed. "Thank you; for fixing me up and, you know, talking to me. I really enjoyed our talk."

"I enjoyed it, too," she said as I reached the door. "Come back again, sometime, if you ever just want to talk."

"I'll do that," I grinned at the blue-eyed nurse. "I'll see you soon, I guess." I opened the door and started my way out of it.

"Remember to be careful," she called out after I entered the other room. I called out some response that let her know that I would try and turned around to face an edgy Mason.

"So, is everything okay?" he ran to where I stood. "How bad is it? Is there anything that I can do?" His concern touched me and I couldn't help the smile that came to my face.

"Everything's fine," I said before he could freak out anymore. "All I needed were a couple of stitches. It wasn't really that bad."

"You probably should have gotten stitches when you got the first wound," he contemplated.

"Maybe," I shrugged. "I didn't think it was that bad." Of course, I didn't see a reason for going out of my way to go to a hospital for anything unless it was a matter of life or death.

"I probably shouldn't have forced you to fight," and the truth comes out. The reason for his moodiness was simply because he felt guilty.

"No, you were right," I reasoned with him. "I do need to train. While I was fighting, I noticed that I had gotten a little rusty."

"So, it wasn't as bad as you thought?" he smirked; his ego having been boosted up again.

"I still don't like fighting," I said quickly, before his head got too big. "But, I will admit that I need to keep it up if I don't want this," I held up my arm. "To happen in real life; where I won't have Nurse Hugo to nurse my wounds."

"Meh, you'll be fine," he grinned. "You'll dominate everyone, as long as you're holding a gun."

"That skill will come in handy; up until they take my gun away, that is," I rolled my eyes at him. "I want to be prepared for everything. I don't ever want to let the hunters get the upper hand on me."

"Which is why you'll be back here in two days," he was back to his all-knowing self. His playful smirk had lost some of its playfulness and his eyes darkened again; it happened so quickly it was almost as if someone had flipped a switch. "See you, tomorrow, Anna."

"Yeah, see you, I guess," I said quietly after he had quickly trod out of the room. I shook my head at his strange mood swing and also walked out. I walked through the building; watching the people as I went.

Gabriel and Gabriella were busy training another young girl that looked like one of my classmates. Sergeant Hugo was talking to a couple and inviting them into his office. As I passed their classroom, I got to see Bethany and Emma in action as they dueled with one another. I smiled to myself; happy to know that they were working hard to protect themselves.

My smile faded as I thought over the many reasons that we had to be here; the reasons we had to protect ourselves. I wondered if the witch hunters were training like we were. They probably went to a school where they drilled in their heads that all gifted were bad. They were probably taught to seek, kill, and destroy us; with absolutely no mercy.

Those thoughts disappeared from my mind, though; as I pushed open the heavy doors to the armory. The little light left from the September sunset caught my eye and had me mesmerized. The clouds above the hills turned various shades of pink and orange, creating a beautiful end to the day.

I was so distracted by the sunset that I didn't notice the blue, Ford Taurus that sat directly across from me in the parking lot. I didn't notice the black haired man that stood leaning against that passenger door. It took me a moment to feel the electric green eyes that were staring at me in amusement. But after that, it only took a split second for the grin to come across my face.

22: Eating You Up From Within

There was something in those electric green eyes that made me draw closer; something in the still slightly swollen smile that made me smile in response. Maybe it was the light-headedness from the loss of blood or maybe it was the joy of having such a great friend; whatever the reason, I felt giddy as I made my way towards the blue Taurus.

"You're only gone for two hours and you still manage to come back harmed," Simon teased as he gently took my left arm. The blood on the sleeve gave me away. "Care to tell me what happened with this one?"

"First, I want to say that I put up a pretty good fight," I defended myself. "But then, fighting instincts kicked in and a knife was pulled."

"Are you okay?" his eyes seemed to go to a faraway place as he looked into mine. I nodded my shrugged and nodded my head as if it didn't really bother me. He smiled at my response. "Did you take your loss with grace?"

"What makes you think I lost?" I grinned playfully. His eyes widened as he thought over my words.

"You took down your opponent even after the knife was pulled?" the grin never faded from my face. "Whatever happened to being careful and not overworking yourself?"

"Oh, I did say that I would do that didn't I," I recalled remorsefully as I looked down at my feet. I bit my lip and looked back up at Simon. "Sorry, I kind of lost control."

"It's okay," he chuckled almost as if he didn't know what to do with me. "We can't let you go anywhere, can we?"

"It's just been a weird week," I shrugged. "I lived the first fifteen years of my life without too much of an issue; for the most part." I was still a little iffy on what I could really remember – or not.

"For the most part," he agreed, much to my chagrin. I gave him a look that expressed my displeasure and he laughed at me. I smiled before his laughter faded and he began to look torn. "Come on, there's something that I want to show you." He seemed to be convincing himself that he was doing the right thing as he opened his passenger side door for me.

"Okay," I hesitantly entered his Taurus. I hadn't realized that the night air had been that chilly until I sat in the warmth of the car.

"Hey, do you have another jacket?" Simon asked as he slipped into the driver's seat. He must have recalled that I had to throw mine away or my brother had voiced his complaints; either one could be quite possible.

"Um, no," I admitted hesitantly. When I was on the road with my dad, we had always found ways to keep our luggage to a minimal. It's a good thing that I wasn't much of a material girl; living with only one pair of shoes and one purse (or in my case, book bag) might have killed some other girls that I knew.

As I got lost in my thoughts of life on the road, Simon reached behind my seat and began to search for something. Before I could ask what he was doing, he threw a soft, black jacket into my lap. "Wear that."

"Um, thank you. Thank you so much; you really didn't have to," I slid the jacket on. I was grateful, but at the same time I was pondering why he had a medium sized woman's jacket; I was really hoping that it hadn't been his originally.

"Yes, I did; I can't let you freeze," he argued. "And before you start overthinking things, it used to be my older sister's before she grew out of it."

"I wasn't thinking anything at all," I lied not so convincingly. He gave me an eye roll as he put his seat belt on; the second motion reminded me to do the same. "You have an older sister?"

"Yeah, Stacey Hugo," he started the car and shifted out of PARK. "She's in her second year at the University of Florida."

"So, she's a Gators fan?" I joked lamely. He graced my poor attempt with a half-smile.

"More like a Charlie fan," he muttered, more to himself than to me. But, of course, with me being the nosey person that I am; I just had to know more.

"Charlie?" I asked, hoping not to sound as nosey as I really was. "Who's Charlie?"

"Her fiancé," he sighed, obviously not too thrilled with the dude. "They met here and dated all through high school, but then his family moved to Florida. She decided to go to the same college, so she could be closer to him."

"That was nice of her," I commented. I was still trying to figure out why they would move to Florida. I mean, the sun and the beach are nice for vacation, but it's not exactly a pleasant place to live; you know, between the sand that never comes out of the carpet, high cost of living, and crowds of people. I had lived there with my dad for a month and I didn't mind to leave it. Trust me; there is nothing worse than placing a clean freak where she can't clean the sand off the floors.

"You're making a face," he pointed out. "What are you really thinking about?"

"Sand," I sheepishly admitted. "And how it never seems to go away." Seriously, we were still cleaning sand out of our vehicle even after we were half-way across the country.

"So, you're not a Gators fan, then?" he laughed at me. I looked out at the beautiful, green scenery that we were passing and laughed along.

"No, not quite," I answered. "There just isn't enough greenery for me there, I guess. The air isn't as fresh to me."

"I understand," Simon said honestly. "Yeah, Stacey hates it there; she says that the humidity simply ruins her hair."

"Yeah, it will do that," I laughed. I enjoyed hearing him talk about his sister; his whole demeanor just seemed to soften as he mentioned her.

"She and Charlie are actually talking about coming up soon, hopefully," he sounded excited by that prospect. "Maybe you could come over and meet them."

"That would be awesome," I honestly wanted to meet the girl that could bring that smile to his face. He seemed to really respect his sister.

"Here we are," Simon announced, reminding me that there was a reason that I was here with him. He had parked the car on top of a tall hill; where all we could see were miles and miles of hills and trees, all around us. I slowly got out of the car – I was still a bit woozy from the knife incident – and gawked at the beauty of the world.

"It's so beautiful," I turned to find Simon looking at me with an idyllic smile on his face. He closed his door and began to walk towards where I stood, hanging on to the open passenger door. I carefully closed the door and made a great effort not to let my dizziness show.

"You're amazing," he said, exasperated at my poor attempt of hiding my unsteady state. He somehow managed to wrap his arm around my waist and carry me to his trunk, where he sat me on top of it before I could ask him what he was up to. Before I could complain, the last few rays of sunlight dancing through the trees caught my eye and I became entranced. "It's pretty, isn't it?" he chuckled.

"Yeah," I grinned sheepishly. "Thank you for showing me this; I've never seen this side of Northanger Valley."

"Well, I wish that I could say that my reasons for bringing you here were that considerate," he said cautiously; he was starting to get to the real point of this excursion. "But there's something that I really need to tell you."

"What is it?" I really needed to stop myself from agreeing to everything so quickly; eventually there was going to be something I agreed to that I really should have thought over first.

"I need you to keep an open mind and forgive me for the way I once thought," that was never a good start. I could only see half of his face as he leaned against the back of the car, but that was all I needed to see how torn he was inside.

I hated seeing him like this; his pain exposed so plainly. I felt the same urge of wanting to do something about it that I had felt earlier at lunch. I wanted to help and here he was giving me a chance to; I wasn't going to give that up. I was going to listen to what he had to say; no matter how shocking or strange it seemed.

23: Amaryllis Bloom

"The stars shine to tell you it's okay now

You're fighting, but you still cannot breathe now

You made it through this . . .

But you made it through this . . ."

– 10 Years, "When Will You Breathe"

---

"Okay," I took a deep breath; preparing myself for whatever he was about to say. "I'm ready to listen."

"Okay," he also took a deep breath; not really at ease with opening up. "First of all, I want to apologize if I seemed cold when we first met in the lunchroom." I faintly recalled the first day; his wariness and my strange feeling about him. It had all faded as quick as it had come and I had thought nothing else of it.

"Your name had preceded you and I had an idea of your family's ability; I was worried that you would, in turn, know about my family's similar ability and attempt to exchange stories of sightings or experiences. You can imagine my surprise and delight when I found out that you were completely clueless when it came to the gifts." He sent a small smile in my direction; it was tainted with a bit of agony. I was starting to think that he didn't get the gift and that was why he was worried that I would confront him about it, but then I reminded myself that I should really stop jumping to conclusions.

"You see, I had made a resolution a few years back; I was going to completely forget about the gift. I had seen the effects of it; how it could change how people thought, lived, or even died. I mean, my great, great, great, - however many great's he is – Uncle Slater died because of the gift; he's told me on several occasions how he felt bad for leaving my . . . grandma so helpless." I could see his point, but I had to bite my tongue before I argued that his grandmother wasn't helpless; she had Mr. Hugo by her side.

"I did a pretty good job of keeping up my resolution until I saw the look on your face as you sat on your bedroom floor that first day. You looked as if your whole world had been turned upside down; the panic on your face scared me to no end and I couldn't understand why. Then, the next day you weren't showing any signs of improvement. When I saw you in the library, pouring over the little selection that we had on ghosts, I realized that your world was shaken; your eyes had been opened to other side of life – or death." I had honestly thought that I had hidden it better than that.

"It killed me to not be able to tell you the truth, but I was afraid of how you would see me afterwards. When we dropped you off later, I didn't want to leave you alone; I was so worried that you would break down or that some sort of harm would come to you that I couldn't really think straight. Eventually, we decided to come back earlier than we had intended because neither of us were too happy about leaving you.

"But when we got home, you weren't there. After reading your note, I believed everything that I feared to be coming true. A few moments later, as I was trying to pacify your brother and trying to keep my own thoughts straight, I heard your voice. Of course, by the time it registered in my brain that it was indeed your voice and I rushed into your room, you were already gone; leaving nothing but a bloody jacket in the trash as an indicator. That didn't help me any in the moments before I finally did find you." As I watched tears form in his eyes, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I didn't want to cause him pain; I hated seeing it.

"Then, there you were; medical supplies in a pile by your feet and blood flowing from your arm. Your panic was at hand again, worse than before, and it scared me. I wanted to ask you about it; wanted to force you to tell me what happened, but you were resolved to remain silent about the matter and I didn't want to push you to do something you didn't want to do. It killed me, though. I went through all possible scenarios that you might have gone through before I realized that there was only one possibly dangerous place where you could go in Northanger Valley." I recalled his sudden request that night and it seemed to make more sense; I don't know how I didn't see that before.

"We managed to distract you for the rest of the evening, but I guess you had a rough night; you looked as if you felt worse this morning. Then, Mason was gloating about how you were going to join his little club. I mean, it's not the club itself that bothers me; I just hated the way he acted so proud, as if he owned you or something." His hands were clenched into fists as he spoke these words. Then, his mouth turned up in a slightly sadistic smirk and I assumed that he was omitting the part where Mason got the black eye and Simon got a swollen lip. His smirk faded though, as soon as it had come.

"When you were in the nurse's office at school, Uncle Slater paid a visit; he looked really freaked. He and Mason were talking about these nightmares that you've been having; visions from the past. You eventually woke up and everything that scared me was written on your face; your panic at experiencing something that you've never known before, your pain at going through such a tragedy, and the effects of the gift so plainly performing in your life. I couldn't simply ignore it anymore; I wouldn't let you go through it alone." His sad eyes nervously met mine as he let the last words sink in. "And don't even try to tell me that it doesn't bother you that much, because I know better than that. You aren't the only one who can see through the little façades."

"I wasn't going to say anything," I argued. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Okay, maybe just a little." He laughed and shook his head; looking as if a heavy load had just been lifted off of his shoulders. I couldn't help the smile that came to my lips as I watched him. "Thank you for sharing that with me; I truly appreciate it."

"Okay, now it's your turn," he grinned as I gave him a bewildered look. "I opened my heart up to you, now you have to tell me your side of the story. I am so done with hearing what everyone else has to say about it. I want to hear you."

"Are you sure you really want to hear it?" I couldn't grasp why he was taking such an interest in my life; I didn't really think that it was something to write home about. The look on his face, though, made it clear that my opinion was void. "Okay, where do I start?"

And that was how I began to come clean. I told my story from beginning to end. I told him about my original blindness and how I became enlightened about the world of the gifted. I fully explained the incident with the twins and the strange visions. I expressed my involvement with Alexander and Mason; the part that they played in this new found life. I even went so far as to let it slip out that I was worried about the strange loss of memory.

We spoke our lives' stories under the canopy of the ever growing darkness. Like little whispers in the dark, the stars lit up the night sky. The chilly, September breeze was barely noticeable as we threw our thoughts and emotions out into the open.

"Are you sure that you're really okay with going back to the gifted lifestyle?" I asked the boy that was lying next to me; leaning against the back window of his car as we looked up.

"Why? Are you worried I'll change my mind again?" he asked in response. His tone was playful with an edge of seriousness to it.

"No," That was only a partial lie; I was a little afraid that he was going rethink things and leave, but I wasn't going to admit to that. "You said that the reason you decided to ignore the gift was because you'd seen the effects of it and they bothered you. I just don't want you to make a decision that you'd rather not."

"The gift and its effects are still there, whether I choose to ignore them or not," he explained. "But if I choose to acknowledge them, I might be able to find some way to lessen the bad stuff that comes along with the gift."

"For me, the bad stuff is always lessened when you're around," I admitted before I even realized how that could be construed. I could feel the warmth of a blush creep up my neck. I discreetly glanced over at him and was surprised to find his cheeks tinted pink, as well. I smiled and looked back up at the night sky; completely forgetting my embarrassment as I got lost in the beauty of the stars. "It's so pretty out here!"

"Yeah, it is," Simon agreed with a quiet chuckle. The wind picked up and suddenly the chill in the air was evident. "But, sadly, we must leave it before it gets any colder. Hey, did you even eat dinner?"

"I'm unfamiliar with this dinner concept," I attempted to keep a straight face. "What is it again?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'," he shook his head and slid off the trunk. He offered me his hands as I started to slide off after him. Even with his help, my balance was still off its mark and I ended up colliding into his chest for the second time in that day alone.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, slightly embarrassed. He didn't let go of me as I attempted to find some sort of semblance of stability.

"Maybe I should just carry you to your seat," he suggested, getting tired of watching me fall.

"No," I said a little too quickly. "I'll be fine. I'm okay now; just have to be careful and make no sudden movements."

"Fine," he sighed as he walked me to the passenger door. He opened the door for me and I wondered if he picked that habit up from watching Seth or if Seth had gotten on to him about it before. Once we were both seated, he looked over at me and grinned, "How does McDonald's sound?"

"That sounds awesome," I was starting to feel a bit hungry after he mentioned dinner and a Big Mac and fries sounded really good about then.

"Good; we have a plan, then," he smiled as he put the car in DRIVE. We made our way out of the beautiful country side and into the bright lights of the town.

I was happy as I opened the door to my bedroom. The world seemed a bit brighter when I didn't have to keep so much hidden. I was blessed to have such great friends that were there for me, no matter what; thoughts of them chased out all the bad thoughts and worries of death.

That didn't last long, though, as I dropped my bag to the floor and looked up into a different pair of electric green eyes than the ones that I had left downstairs just a few moments ago. As I looked into Alex's sad eyes, my mind wandered back to the vision of his death. The way he stood as far away from the door as possible told me what I feared; he had relived it, as well.

"How are you feeling?" I asked quietly; suddenly very wary of how I spoke. Alex simply closed his eyes and shook his head.

"How are you?" He opened his eyes back up to study me as he spoke. I studied him in return as I thought over my answer. I noticed that he seemed more on edge than usual, as if he was ready to run at any second.

"I'm okay," I shrugged. "I feel a little tired, but other than that I'm good." I watched as relief flooded through him. He must have expected my recent nightmare to have a more negative effect on me. I wasn't about to let him see how much it really shook me up.

"I should let you rest, then," he took the chance to escape. "See you, Anna." He vanished before I had a chance to stop him. A lump formed in my throat as I realized that things were going to be different from now on; he was going to distance himself as far away as he could - away from me.

24: Will It Ever End?

Time performed its inescapable dance and soon a month had passed since the day everything came out into the open. I managed to survive the first week of Northanger Valley and the weeks after simply fell into place. Life had become something that was close kin to normal.

Every day, I would sit with Seth, Bethany, Emma, Simon, and Mason at lunch. For some strange reason, Mason had started joining us at our table. The first couple days were kind of awkward, but after a while it just seemed right. Bethany, Emma, and Seth warmed up to him eventually, but Simon was still unsure of him.

Three times a week, all of us (excluding Seth) would go to the armory and learn to protect ourselves from the witch hunters. Even Simon started to join us, which made sense; considering his family just about ran the place.

Alex hadn't appeared much; he only popped in every now and then to see if I had made any progress on the Anderson twins. Since Mason was insisting that we work together on that, I hadn't gotten very far, so Alex's appearances were rare.

I still hadn't had the chance to speak to my dad. I hated going this long without hearing from him; it made me antsy. I was so used to seeing his face and hearing his voice every day and it was strange to go almost a month without it. I left messages on his phone and sent emails, but I knew that it could be months before he remembered to check either one.

Thoughts of the passing time ran through my head as I stood in my bedroom, completely alone for once. I wasn't used to being left alone to my thoughts; Simon and the others were worried that my thoughts would lead me down a dark path if I dwelled on them too much. It was for the best that I wasn't left alone too much, because my thoughts did tend to take me to places I didn't need to go.

Because the nightmares continued; there was rarely a night where I didn't wake up screaming about a past life. My mind would often wander off into scenes of the deaths of ghosts that I'd never seen before. The people in the nightmares would vary in age, size, occupations; everything. The only thing that they had in common was why they died; they were gifted.

I was having a hard time understanding why the witch hunters were so ruthless in their killing; they didn't have any mercy for anyone who was gifted. I tried to see it through their eyes, but after experiencing death at their hands night after night, I just couldn't fathom why they did it. The people they killed were all innocent; they never chose to live the life of the gifted. So, why make them suffer for it?

"I've left you alone for too long, haven't I?" Simon stood in the doorway; his eyes were sad as he looked at where I stood staring at my closed closet door.

"No, I'm fine," I turned to him and smiled. He smiled back, but I could tell that I hadn't convinced him. "Relax; I was just thinking about things."

"It's the things you think about that worry me," he reminded me with a sigh. I smiled sadly; hating that I was worrying him again.

"I'm fine; I promise," I attempted to assure him. He shook his head and grinned; still not convinced. I sighed. "What movie are we watching?" I asked, referring to the movie that Seth had suggested earlier and was working on setting up.

"I think he said something about watching The Phantom of the Opera," he shrugged. "We should probably go down before he starts to wonder what's taking us so long."

"Yeah," I agreed as we started to make our way downstairs to the living room. As we sat down on the couch, I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen, but I tried to push it away as Seth started the movie.

The bad feeling continued to grow as I sat there, but I couldn't figure out the cause of it. About halfway through the movie, my phone went off; Mason's face lit up on the screen. I apologized and walked into the kitchen to answer it; my heart in my throat the whole way.

"Mason, what's up?" I asked, wary. Mason never called me; if he had anything to say, it would always have to wait until he saw me.

"It's Emma," his voice was strained as he spoke. "She was attacked and is in the hospital."

"Wait, what?" I tried to not freak out, but failed miserably. "Is she okay? What happened?"

"She's okay," he said quickly, before I could go into palpitations. "She's just really shaken up. Her leg is broken and she has a throbbing headache, but she fine otherwise. The doctors are still doing tests on her, though."

"She's okay," I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked up to find Simon and Seth staring at me questioningly. I gave them a look; asking them to wait. "What happened?"

"I came across her in the mall," he said slowly; reliving the scene, I assumed. "She was trying to fight off an enemy; he was getting the best of her." I took a deep breath. "I gave him a little piece of my mind."

"Did you recognize him?" I asked; knowing that there could be a slight chance that he was one of the men from the vision of the twins.

"No, but I did see what he was sent here for," he didn't elaborate. "I can't tell you much over the phone. I'll tell you more when you get here."

"Okay, have you told Bethany?" I asked; I was worried about how she would take hearing that her best friend was in the hospital.

"No," he answered after a moment, almost as if he felt guilty about something. "I was kind of hoping that you would handle that. I figured that it would be better if you could tell her."

"Yeah, I'll do it," I agreed that it would be best. "I'll see you soon, then." I hung up the phone and turned to the two boys who were waiting patiently. "Emma's in the hospital, but she's okay."

"What happened?" Seth was the first to exclaim. His eyes were wide with fear for his friend.

"She was the victim of a random attack at the mall," I embellished a bit. Seth still wasn't aware of the gifted world; we were all planning on telling him about it someday, but we never could figure out the right time. "Mason was there and saved her from her pursuer."

"I thought that you guys were all in a self-defense club so this stuff wouldn't happen," Seth was vexed.

"The pursuer must have been stronger or better than her at fighting," I sighed, not happy with this situation either. "I need to call Bethany. Seth, would you mind picking Bethany up? I really don't want her to go to the hospital alone."

"Sure, no problem," he agreed quickly, as I expected. "Just let me put some shoes on." Then, he was off like a rocket towards his bedroom.

"Hunters?" Simon asked as soon as Seth was out of earshot. I looked at him and nodded solemnly.

"Yeah," I took a deep breath. "Mason says that he was sent here, but he couldn't tell me why over the phone." He nodded and took my hand; my panic recognizable to him. My free hand shook as I dialed Bethany's number.

"Hey, Anna," she responded cheerfully; the news having not reached her ears yet. "What's up?"

"I have bad news, but first; Emma's okay," I said carefully, before I could freak her out any worse. I could already hear her breathing starting to hitch. "But she's in the hospital. She's fine, though; a bit shaken with a broken leg, but pretty much fine."

"Okay," she said slowly; taking everything in. "Are you sure that she's okay?" The calm way she asked that question surprised me.

"Well, Mason's with her," I answered. "I don't think that he would lie to me; he knows that I'm going up there."

"Is that what your instinct says?" she asked, having heard my thoughts on what my dad says about instinct.

"Yes," I replied honestly. "My instinct is telling me that everything's going to be fine, now."

"Okay, then I have no reason to freak out," she said calmly. "But your instinct is telling you more, isn't it?" I don't know how she could tell that over the phone.

"Yes," I said, astonished that she could sense that. "I'm having Seth pick you up because I have feeling something bad will happen if you go alone."

"Do you think that someone's out to harm us?" her panic was starting to show through her voice. About that same time, Seth came back into the kitchen, grabbed his keys off the table, and mouthed at me to tell her that he was on his way. I nodded to let him know that I would and he left.

"I think that this wasn't random," I answered gravely; my hand grasping Simon's in a death grip. "But don't worry, okay; Seth's on his way."

"Are we really going to be okay?" her voice was beginning to tremble. "If it's the hunters, will we be able to stop them before we become the ghosts in your visions?"

"That won't happen," I assured her. "We won't let that happen. They may be skilled, but so are we. We'll give them one heck of a fight." Simon was the one to squeeze my hand this time.

"You're right," she said, almost as if she was forcing herself to believe my words. "I should probably find my shoes and my purse; I'll let you go. See you soon. And remember that no matter what, I love you." Her words startled me; I knew that, in some weird way, we all loved each other, but we never really said it. I guess that when we come close to losing a friend, our priorities are really put in perspective.

"I love you, too, Beth," I tried not to let my tears show through in my voice. "See you soon." I hung up and slipped the phone into my jeans pocket - and let the tears that I was holding in fall.

"It'll be okay; you said so yourself," Simon said as he pulled me into a comforting hug.

"I know," I sniffled. "The call was just too close for my taste. It just keeps getting closer."

"Maybe Mason will have more information," he suggested. "Let's not think about it too much, until we hear what he has to say."

"You're right," I sighed. "We should probably get to the hospital; I'm not sure if we should leave a freaked out Emma with an equally freaked out Mason for too long." He nodded in understanding and the two of us went out the door; neither one of us sure of what was to come.

25: The Stars

"The stars shine to tell you it's okay now" – 10 Years

"And it's the stars;

The stars that lie to you . . ." – Stone Sour

---

Immediately upon entering the hospital room, we were met by a tense young man in mid pace. His grey eyes flooded with relief as we walked into the room. I took one of his strong hands in mine and gave it a comforting grasp before moving towards the middle of the room.

My eyes fell on an unusually pale figure all dressed in white. Her tired face lit up as her eyes met mine and I walked closer to her bed. Under the white sheet, her leg was in an odd position from the cast that held it in place. Her frail hand quickly found mine as I carefully sat next to her on the bed.

"Thank goodness; you're here!" she still kept up her good spirits. "It's been so boring, being stuck with Grumpy Gus over there." I couldn't help, but chuckle at the disgruntled noise that Mason made in reply; the strange relationship that the two had formed over the past month had never ceased to amuse me.

"He's just worried about you," I said still chuckling. He had probably seen enough of death to know that he didn't want to see it again anytime soon.

"He shouldn't be; I'm fine now. He already took care of all the bad stuff," her tone changed to become a bit softer as she spoke this; her mind started to drift into a place that I couldn't see. It didn't seem to cause her pain to be there, though; so I didn't worry about it too much.

"Why did you go to the mall alone?" Simon asked; coming up behind me and interrupting her daydreaming. I had wondered that, as well; she rarely ever went somewhere like that without Bethany.

"I went to get my Halloween costume and I didn't want anyone to know what I was going to be," Emma said as if that was the most obvious thing.

"Did you get it?" I asked before either of the boys could make some comment on how reckless it was to go alone.

"I did!" she grinned, happy with herself. "Mason was nice enough to put it in my car for me."

"Which reminds me," Mason spoke up. "I was wondering if you would go with me to pick up her car and drop if off at her home." He was looking at Simon as he asked this.

"Um, sure," Simon answered before looking at me as if to see if it was okay. I could tell that he wasn't too excited about going, but I couldn't tell if he didn't want to leave Emma and I to fend for ourselves or if he just didn't want to be alone with Mason for that long.

"It should be fine," I said slowly, making sure of it myself. "I don't sense any danger and Seth should be here soon with Bethany."

"If you're sure," Simon said, giving my shoulder a little squeeze. "Don't think too much, while we're gone." I rolled my eyes at his request.

"Yeah, I'll work on that," I shook my head and grinned. "Be careful while you're out, okay?" I felt his hand leave my shoulder and his lips on the top of my head.

"We will be," he promised as he gave Emma's hand a kiss; and then the two boys exited the room.

"Everyone's aura is so tainted with worry," Emma pouted in complaint. "I don't like it. It's not as if worrying about it is going to keep the hunters from coming."

"Sometimes, that's how we cope," I looked into her brown eyes that were filled with frustration. "We worry until we are able to do something about it. Then, when we are able to do something about it, we kick butt." I smiled at her, hoping that was convincing.

"See, that's the kind of attitude we need to have," she exclaimed, her eyes alight. "We need to focus on kicking butts and taking names, not on all the bad things that could happen."

"That's one way of seeing it," I grinned. I was just glad that her close encounter hadn't gotten the best of her; her fighting spirit still remained.

"Yeah, but this whole messed up thing did make me realize something, though," she was serious – as serious as Emma could be – as she said this.

"Oh," I murmured, honestly curious as to what her brain was working over. "And what's that?"

"I need to work on my fighting skills more," she turned her revelation into a resolution. "I never gave the self-defense classes much thought; I just did them because I thought that it was required, but I never really gave it my all when taking them. I mean, I never thought that I'd be in danger; I live in the sleepy, little town of Northanger Valley, for goodness sakes."

"I think that our sleepy little town has been awakened," I said, a bit grimly. She shrugged in response.

"What if our town is supposed to be awakened?" she asked as if our town was going to be the home of something great. "What if the reasons we were all put here, the reasons for your strange nightmares, and the reasons for the attacks were all one in the same? We're the ones that are meant to stop the witch hunters."

"What makes you think that?" I asked, trying to conceal the shivers that were running up and down my spine at her words. I could sense the truth that was behind them and I didn't like it one bit.

"God gave us these gifts for a reason, right?" she pointed out a thought that I didn't really dwell on much. "We haven't been able to use our gifts to help humankind, since the hunters have driven us back in fear. We aren't made to fear the hunters; we're made to help."

"Okay, I agree with you on that," I replied. "But do you know of some great plan we can use to stop the hunters?"

"Yeah, well; I haven't actually gotten that far in my thinking processes," she admitted sheepishly. Our conversation was cut short, as Bethany entered the room with Seth in tow.

"Emma," the said best friend was pulled into a careful embrace by Bethany. "I'm so glad that you're okay."

"I'm fine," she grinned. "I was lucky that Mason happened to pass by; I wouldn't be okay if it wasn't for him." She was back into that daydreaming state until Seth interrupted her thoughts.

"Where is Mason?" he asked, suddenly noticing the lack of our other male companions. "And where's Simon?"

"They went to drop Emma's car off at her house," I answered as I stood up from the bed; giving the two friends a little privacy to talk.

"How's she taking it?" Seth asked quietly as I walked to where he stood, off to the side. His eyes continued to glance back to where Emma and Bethany sat; his worry for his friend evident on his face.

"She's taking it rather well," I smiled as I watched Bethany doubled over laughing at some insane thing that Emma had said. "She's not letting it hinder her any; she's seeing the situation as a much needed wake-up call."

"She's taking the bad and making something good from it?" Seth asked, finding that a difficult thing to wrap his brain around.

"Isn't that the best thing to do in any situation?" I asked with another smile before making my way back to the hospital bed.

Emma was in the middle of sharing a story of two girls that were in her gym class when the boys arrived. She was telling us how they refused to run, even after Coach Terry yelled at them, as Simon and Mason both entered with equally grim expressions on their faces.

"They're hiding something," Bethany discreetly whispered into my ear. The aura reading that she was getting on them wasn't looking too good.

"What do you think it is that they're hiding?" I inconspicuously whispered back; the only other person able to hear us being Emma, who I noticed to be listening intently while trying not to look too intent about it.

"My guess is Mason knows something about the attack and he shared it with Simon while they were out," Bethany shared her thoughts.

"I'll ask one of them what's up, whenever Seth is out of hearing range," I decided, not liking being left out of the loop.

"That's a good plan," Bethany agreed. "You can probably ask Simon when he takes you home, tonight." I made a small murmur of agreement and then we began to discuss the antics of Coach Crane and Coach Terry.

We stayed until late in the evening; leaving only a couple hours after Emma's parents appeared. Being gifted themselves, her parents grasped the situation immediately; the fear of all gifted parents came true. They were some of the lucky ones; a lot of the time, the kids never came back home.

I caught Simon's eye once throughout the evening; the look in my eyes telling him that we needed to talk. He looked away from me to sigh, and then he looked back and nodded. Then, the two of us continued talking to the group as if nothing ever transpired between us.

Something was up; I could feel it in my bones. It wasn't something that just appeared, either; no, it was something that had been a long time in the making. Of course, I had no clue actually how long that was, but it really shouldn't have come as a surprise.

26: Never Gonna Let You

"The memories begin to fall.

She asks, "When will I be free?"

All these lives that you've been taking,

Deep inside, my heart is breaking;

Broken homes from separation.

Don't you know it's violation?

It's so wrong, but you'll see.

Never gonna let you take my world from me." - Daughtry

---

The hospital and city lights slowly faded away as Simon and I rode in silence. As I waited patiently for Simon to speak up, I enjoyed looking for the occasional Halloween decorations as we passed house after house. I entertained my brain with thoughts of Seth and Bethany, who had said that they were going to watch a movie until her parents got home; for once, I didn't need to scheme anything up.

I sighed aloud as my thoughts wandered back to Emma. I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't going to be the last casualty, but I was left to wonder why. Why were the witch hunters so determined to kill us off? Why were they so set on starting their purging here in the peaceful town of Northanger Valley? I was getting really tired of questions; I needed some answers.

"I hate to be pushy and put my nose where it might not belong," I finally spoke up, seeing as Simon wasn't going to anytime soon. "But I need to know what's going on. Please, tell me anything that you know."

"There's a long story that you really should know that leads up to today's events," his grip on the steering wheel tightened; his knuckles turned white.

"I should know; as in, it's necessary or as in, I should know this already?" I asked not really liking where this was headed, but knowing that I needed to hear this.

"Uh huh," he answered reluctantly, letting me know that he meant both. "When you were younger, you lost your memory. There are things that happened before and during the time of your loss that are pertinent to what's happening now."

"I lost my memory?" I asked, not as surprised as I should have been. My worries came true and yet, all I could think about was what could have caused the loss. "Okay, so what happened?"

"I don't really know," he sighed as he pulled into our street. "I wasn't around during that time of your life. Everything that I know about it has all been hear-say; it's always been a big deal amongst the gifted."

"So, wait," I said as a realization hit home. "Everyone knows about this? What . . . how . . . why . . . ?" I cried out in frustration. "How can I not know about this?"

"It's always been a touchy subject," Simon's voice was laced with pain and I hated that I was causing it, again. "The event that caused it has always been a nightmare to the gifted; for some of us, more than the others." As the words rolled out of his mouth, he pulled into the driveway. Looking out the window, I could see Mason standing behind his car; his eyes glaring at the ground he stood upon.

"What's Mason doing here?" I asked as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I looked over at Simon to find that his hands were still clenching the steering wheel; holding onto it for dear life.

"I asked him to come over," he answered slowly, not happy with the situation in the least. "He needs to be here; he's the only one who can tell you what really happened."

"Oh, because he's the only Know-It-All within the school district," I said as it made sense to me. He would know more about my past than I would because of his gift.

"No," he chuckled at my nickname for those who hold the gift of knowledge before turning somber again. "It's because he's the only one who was there at the time."

I was stunned into silence and couldn't manage to move as Simon got out of the car and made his way around to my door. When he opened up the door, I was pulled out of my trance and forced to keep on trudging. I took his offered hand and it kept me standing on my feet as we made our way towards Mason.

"Let's go inside," I suggested as cheerfully as I could manage. "It will be warmer in there." The October chill was starting to set in.

"I don't want to be here," Mason turned his cold, grey eyes on me. "There's really no reason for doing this." I met his glare with a composed stare. I had already figured that something like this would happen; Mason froze up every time something about the past came up. I really couldn't blame him for it; I mean his past wasn't exactly something anyone would really want to delve into for grins and giggles.

"If you really believed that," I said slowly and calmly, before Simon could have the chance to lunge at him. "Then, why would you have come?"

"I . . ." his eyes showed his shock and his exasperation at not being able to come up with a retort. Once he realized that he wasn't going to find anything more than that, he settled with glaring at us again. "Fine, let's just get this over with."

The boys had a glaring match on my porch as I searched for my key to the house. I sighed quietly to myself as I flipped the lights on and made my way towards the kitchen. I wasn't sure if I was really ready to hear what Mason had to say, but I didn't really think that the choice was up to me.

"Have a seat," I said without looking at the boys behind me. I started looking through the cabinets for cups. "Do you guys want anything to drink?"

"Do we still have any of that apple cider left?" Simon asked as I heard a chair scrape the kitchen floor. I looked in the fridge and pulled out the desired drink.

"Do you want any, Mason?" I asked as I poured it into two of the empty cups. I looked over to see Mason carefully pulling his chair back and sitting down in it; obviously uncomfortable being here.

"Sure," His eyes roamed the room; taking in his surroundings. I poured him a cup and placed it in front of him. I handed Simon his cup and sat down with my own.

"I've never really been one to dwell in the past," I said solemnly, staring into my apple cider. "I just feel as if there's something that I need to know; something that is still unfolding today."

"It started when we were seven," the pain in Mason's voice compelled me to look up. I saw a war raging in his sad, cold eyes. "My family had a house in Salem, Massachusetts. It was irony really, that brought us there; a family of gifted in a place most known for their Witch Trials." He chuckled dryly at the joke.

"Of course, if it wasn't for the rumors of the ghost from said Trials, your family never would have arrived. Your dad had gotten a call from the agency about cleaning some of the haunted places of their ghosts. At that time, your mom was still cool with the lifestyle of the gifted; she wasn't too thrilled with it, but she made it work." A small smile graced his lips for a brief moment.

"Our families were the only ones with gifts in the Salem area; the past still having scared all the others away. Because of that, the two of us were always grouped together. We hated each other at first; fought like cats and dogs. Eventually, though, we came to be the best of friends; only after we found out that being different from the other students had its consequences, of course.

"When we were eight, both of our families were toying with the idea of settling; a novel concept for all of those involved. Your dad's work never really allowed him to stay in one place and my dad's lineage had always kept us on our toes," he paused here, as if there was more to that story than he planned on sharing. "Anyways, it was decided that everyone would stay for a little while longer. My family welcomed you into our home, seeing as you guys had been living in the Hawthorne Hotel, The Turner-Ingersoll Mansion, the Joshua Ward House, or your car during your entire year in Salem." His eyes darkened greatly as his story progressed.

"We would have never even suggested it had we known what my grandfather was planning," he said 'grandfather' as if it was a curse. "He had always been outraged by my parents' marriage. You see, my dad's not gifted; in fact, he was raised as quite the opposite. His father was the leader of the Hunter's Organization; as was his father before him and his father before him and so on and so forth." I held back a gasp as I recalled something from the nightmare that I had of Alexander. Leonard Horace Anderson and his brother had been part of the Hunter's Organization.

"Now, my grandfather had gotten bored with simply killing us mercilessly and purifying the earth of our odious curses. He was working to take it one step further; he was going to purify the demons," The scowl on Mason's face looked as if it was permanently etched there.

"Purify the demons?" I did gasp this time; the shock was just too great. "You mean, take away our gifts?" He nodded gravely before he continued.

"He and his organization had designed this machine that could stop whatever part of the brain that allowed our gifts to be of use from working. Of course, the machine still had a few bugs and they had very few people who they could test it out on. They had found, though, that children would be best if they wanted good results and if they died – well, who cares? We're all demon children anyways, right?

"He had thought that he had found the greatest guinea pig; what's a better way to get back at his son for completely rejecting his values than to extinguish his very own grandson's gift? It took a while, but he eventually caught up with us and when he finally did, he was overjoyed; under his son's roof, there was not one, but two of the cursed children presently living. If one of us died during a test run, there would be another to spare," His hands were wrapped around the glass cup that I had given him so tightly that I thought it might burst under the pressure, but luckily it did not.

"He waited for the perfect moment; the moment when it was just the two us. He didn't have to wait long; just long enough for us to get out of school. He and a group of Hunters were waiting for us as we started to make our way towards the bus. Some of the school faculty could sense that something was suspicious and they wouldn't let the men anywhere near us; that's when they started to get violent. They pulled out guns – it turned out that they were only tranquilizers, but the threat was enough." As he spoke, I began to get an image of men in the hunter's uniform, teachers trying to protect their students, and a grey eyed boy holding onto my hand for dear life; pain shot across my head.

"When you saw that people's lives were in danger because of us, you couldn't stand it. I never knew what you were planning, until your hand slipped out of mine," Surprised, I looked at Mason's face to see him blinking away tears. "You proposed a compromise; if they left everyone else alone, they could take you. You said that you would allow them to kill you, torture you, or do anything to you; if only they let everyone be." I saw it; I inched closer to the men in uniforms and pleaded. The greying man in the lead gave a dark, evil laugh; a shiver travelled down my spine and the headache grew.

"In some sick, twisted way, your pleas amused them to no end. They continued to joke about it; even after they had us both loaded into the van. Of course, they got what they wanted; they always do. I heard later that only a handful of people were hurt in the process; they were all able to go to work again the next day. We weren't so lucky, though, as we were taken to the hunter's base in Lynn, Massachusetts."

As he paused for a moment, an image of one of the hunters sitting in the back of the van with us came to mind. I could hear his malicious voice chanting, "Lynn, Lynn; the city of sin. If you ain't bad, you can't get in!" The headache was turning into a migraine.

"I knew everything that they had planned. I knew the scores of innocent people that they had killed. I could see all this, but I couldn't find a way to get out; I couldn't find a way to change our fate. Upon entering the base, my grandfather decided that you would be the first one to try out his new toy; he thought that you would be more expendable." He spat the words out as if they were poison.

"I had to watch as they placed you on a table; as they tied you down," the tears were now too much for him to blink away. "They attached wires to your head and ran some tests; preparing the machine for you. Once they were done with the calculations and the adjustments, they slid something that looked like a helmet over your head. All it took was a press of a button; that's all it took to wash out your gift and take some of your memories with it.

"It didn't take long for our parents to find us, since your dad had gotten some help from one of his ghost friends. It only took four days, but by then it was too late; your gift was gone. They had called some of the others from the agency out to help and they all kicked some butt, but my grandfather and a few others still managed to escape.

"It was impossible for things to return to normal, afterwards. It took a long time for some of your memory to come back and even then, all you got back was what was necessary for survival. For the rest of us, the memory never faded. It was decided that it was best for us all to move again; for us to separate.

"Within the next year, your mom had taken all she could take of the gifted world; she left you and your dad and found a family that seemed as if they were completely exempt from the curses of the gifts. Your dad continued his work, taking you with him, and he tried to give you as normal of a life as possible while also trying to keep you out of the hands of the Hunters. Your constant moving kept you under the radar for a while, but your dad realized that life on the road wasn't the best way to grow up. After convincing your mom that you still showed no signs of being shadow kissed, he tried to do what was best for you," Mason disagreed with him on that matter, it seemed.

"My parents decided to settle again, for the last time. The twins were growing up and they deserved a steady life," The tears started to fall like rain. I placed my hand on his arm as I let a few of my own tears fall. "We were a happy family for a few years – six to be exact – and then the hunter's struck again. This time, though, we weren't going to run; we were going to stand our ground. We weren't going to let them control us by our fear; if they came for us, we were going to fight.

"They haven't bothered us much, until now. Somehow, they found out that you're here. They probably want to see if their experiment really worked out or if they need to exterminate you, since you know too much. They'll stop at nothing, until they can get you in their blood-stained hands."

Silence fell over the kitchen; each of us wrapped in our thoughts. My mind wandered to the twins; I had seen them as babies, possibly even held them, and I couldn't remember it. I wanted to remember them; I wanted to picture them happy, healthy, and alive.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture them. As I made the attempt, the growing pain in my head worsened, but then I saw it. I was in a hospital, sitting next to a young Mason on the couch. In our arms, we each held a newborn baby; my baby was wrapped in a blue blanket and his in a pink one. I smiled down at the cute, little Harley before looking over to find a rare smile gracing the lips of young Mason. A snap of a camera caused us both to look up, startled. Before I could see who took the picture, though, everything went black.

27: Waking Up the Ghost

"I am waking up the ghost

And digging up the memories that were dead to me

Now, now I'm getting close

Closer to the enemy that's inside of me," -10 Years

---

As if a barrier had been broken, memories flooded my mind as I lay unconscious. They came to me as vivid dreams, but I could remember the smells, the feelings, and the thoughts that went through my brain in ways that I never could before. As if on overdrive, I was taken from one memory only to be pushed into another.

They dreams didn't seem to be in any particular order; they started off with the horrific scenes from the kidnapping and then just showed random snippets from my past. Some of the memories were things that were taken from the Hunter's machine; others were ones that I had repressed myself, because they didn't seem to make sense to me at the time. One scene in particular seemed to really stand out to me.

I sat on a bed, kicking my feet back and forth, and thinking hard about something. On both sides of me there sat suitcases and a young Mason was flitting about the room; filling the suitcases with some of my clothing and belongings.

"I don't understand why we have to leave," I sighed as he placed another dress in one of the suitcases. "I thought that we were having fun. Did I do something bad?" He stopped trying to stuff the dress in the suitcase and turned so that I couldn't see his face.

"No, Lizzy," he said carefully, using the nickname that everyone called me when I was younger. "You didn't do anything."

"Then, why is everyone going away?" I complained, unable to grasp why everyone was acting so strange. In the little pieces that I could remember of everyone, they acted different; happier.

"It will be safer this way," young Mason seemed to be trying to convince himself of that. He went back to packing.

"So the man who drove into our car won't come after us?" I asked. The story that my dad had come up with was that I had lost my memory due to a car accident. Everyone had agreed that it would be best if I didn't know too much about the gifted world, since it wouldn't do me much good.

"Yes," his tone had turned slightly bitter. "So the man responsible for the accident will not come back for us." I sighed as I slipped off the bed and attempted to help Mason with packing. Immediately after seeing what I was trying to do, he sat me back on the bed and told me to sit still; I pouted.

"What if I forget you, like everything else?" I finally voiced the main reason I was worried about the move. Young Mason turned and looked at me for the first time since we had gotten the news of the move. His grey eyes saddened at the realization that it was entirely possible.

"Wait here," he said quickly, before he stormed out of the room. I did as he asked; all the while, my mind was filling with dread at the thought of him disappearing from my memory. I was so wrapped in my thoughts that I didn't notice him come back in until he thrust his favorite stuffed animal at me. The little bunny was grey and white with a green bow on its neck; written on the bow in gold letters were the date of his birth and his name. I played with the soft fur on its ears before looking up at Mason questioningly. "It's yours now; keep it so that you'll never forget me."

"Thank you," I exclaimed as I jumped off the bed and wrapped my arms around the young boy; the stuffed bunny still dangling from my hand. The scene ended with us not knowing that it wasn't the end of us; that we would one day meet again.

---

When my eyes finally did open, I was surprised to find myself in the comfort of my own bed. The events of the day before, the memories, everything that happened; it all came crashing down on me as I tried to shake off my morning stupor. The dream-filled sleep didn't leave me feeling very refreshed.

One thought remained in my mind, though, as I slid out of bed and made my way towards my closet. I pushed through the boxes that sat in the floor of my closet; having been too lazy or too busy to completely unpack in the last month. Then, I found it; the one completely untouched box that sat in the very back.

Upon opening it, I found an old jewelry box, a piggy bank, and a few miscellaneous things that I had long since forgotten about. The thing that had been nearly completely erased from my mind was at the very bottom; its grey and white fur slightly discolored from age. The date of birth was written in gold on one side of its bow; the gold thread on the other reading, "Mason Theodore Anderson".

If I hadn't believed that everything he claimed had come to pass was true, I had to at that point; the proof staring at me with its button eyes. Putting my past aside, though, there was a more pressing matter; the present. The reason that the hunters were getting closer, that the gifted were getting picked off locally, that my friends were being targeted; all of it was because of me.

Seeing my friends fall was only a happy bonus to them; I was the one they were really after. I was the reason that they were so close to town. Somehow, they had managed to find me after all these years and were intent on getting me back. My presence here was the reason everyone was in danger.

The pain of being a hindrance to the safety of those that I loved ran through me. The very thought of causing harm to those around me shocked me to the core. I was so distracted by the new revelation that I didn't notice that the door opened; couldn't see the boxes being moved as someone tried to make their way towards me.

"Anna," a voice that I knew so well called me out of my reverie. I turned around to look into his comforting electric green eyes as tears started to form in my own.

"Simon, it's my fault," I said as I wiped away the tears with the hand that didn't have a tight grip on the stuffed bunny. "Everything is my fault!"

"No, it's not," he said quickly, before I could go into hysterics. He sat in the entranceway to the closet that I was sitting inside of and started to wipe away the tears that refused to let up. His pain was clear in his eyes. "Don't blame yourself; it's not as if you had any idea what was going on."

"But what if . . ." I sniffled. "What if someone else gets hurt because I led the hunters here? What if someone gets killed because of me?"

"You can't take the blame for something that you had no hand in," Simon exclaimed. "Did you choose to have your gift taken away and your memories erased?"

"No," I said slowly, a little surprised at his outburst. He usually had a more gentle feeling about him.

"Did you want to have them chase you to the ends of the earth just to see if your brain had healed?" he asked.

"No," I answered slowly again, not really sure what he was getting at. I was worried about where the inquisition was heading.

"Do you regret the time you've spent here?" his voice was quieter as he asked the question whose answer he feared the most.

Did I regret being there? Did I regret meeting such amazing people? Did I regret the time that I spent with great friends? "No; not at all!"

"Then, stop worrying about it," he said as a relieved smile graced his face. You didn't do anything to cause it, and don't worry about the hunters coming after us. We've trained for a reason; we knew that the day they came after us would come eventually."

"But . . ." I started to argue, but Simon pressed his lips to my forehead and completely distracted me from what I was about to say.

"Please, don't," he murmured slightly, as he was still kissing my forehead; causing my heart to beat at an irregular pace. I sighed, but remained silent. Once he was sure that I wasn't going to argue anymore, he pulled away. "So, what's with the mess?"

"I was looking for something," I looked around at the scattered boxes and frowned; the clean freak in me trying to come out.

"Was this what you were looking for?" he asked as he fingered the stuffed bunny's ear. His hand moved to the bow as something caught his eye. "Does that say 'Mason'?"

"Um, yeah," I answered intelligently as I stared down at the bunny. "He gave it to me the day we moved away. He said that it was something to remember him by, but I honestly forgot all about it as time passed by." Putting it that way, I was starting to feel a little guilty.

"It happens," Simon shrugged as he took my free hand and gave it a squeeze. He was trying to rationalize for me; almost as if he knew what was going through my mind. "Say, how come you've never unpacked this stuff?"

"I don't know. I guess that I haven't gotten around to it quite yet," I laughed a little as I was beginning to wonder that myself. He dropped my hand and dug my old jewelry box out of the box that I had gotten the bunny out of. He examined it a bit and then looked up at my bookshelves, before he stood up and placed it where he deemed it to belong.

"You should really unpack some of this stuff," he said solemnly as he stared at one of my trinkets that he had picked up and started playing with. "And, you know; stay for a while." I quietly sighed as I realized that he was just worried that I was going to bail. I stood up and picked the piggy bank up out of the box, before walking towards Simon.

"You're right," I said calmly as I placed the bank on the bookshelf as well. "Those boxes are taking up far too much space, anyways." While he was still processing that, I sat the stuffed bunny that was still in my hand on top of my unmade bed. When I turned back around to face him, I could see the relief flooding through him. I smiled at him, before I took the trinket out of his hand and placed it back in the jewelry box. "I'll work on the rest later. What time is it, anyways?"

"Around six in the morning," he shrugged. I was beginning to wonder what he was doing here so early in the morning. The look on my face must have given me away or maybe he had somehow acquired the gift to read minds, because he then proceeded to explain, "I slept on the couch in Seth's room; after I called my parents to tell them where I was, of course." I opened my mouth to argue that he should have just gone home and not worried about me, but he interrupted me before I could speak. "Look, it's not like we were about to leave you here alone."

"Did you say 'we'?" I asked, hoping that it was a mistake. He avoided my eyes and looked around the room; stopping only when his eyes landed on the bunny that was taking up residence on my bed.

"Mason is currently slumbering on your couch downstairs," his lips were set in a hard line as he spoke. "He was very adamant about being here when you woke back up. I think he wants to apologize about what you went through or whatever." He rolled his flashing, electric green eyes; definitely not happy with the prospect.

"Is Seth . . . ?" I kind of forgot about how my brother would react to me being alone, with two young men, and after dark.

"Mason was already passed out by the time he got home, but I explained to him that we were all kind of jumpy after the attack and that we didn't want to leave you to fend for yourself," I got the feeling that there was a partial truth in what he said. "He said that he understood and even went so far as to thank me for taking such good care of you." From the faraway look that came to his eyes, I could tell that he felt guilty for not being able to tell Seth the truth; I knew this feeling well.

"How much sleep did you get?" I asked suddenly; both, trying to distract him and realizing that he looked really tired.

"Meh, I got enough," he shrugged. I raised an eyebrow at his answer. "Don't give me that look; I probably still woke up feeling more refreshed than you did. Your dreams caused you to toss and turn all night long." I couldn't argue with that.

"Still," was my brilliant, frustrated retort. "It's completely different." He raised an eyebrow, this time, and even chuckled a little bit.

"Oh, please; do tell," he was grinning now; he thought that he was getting the sweet taste of victory. I pouted a little at the thought.

"I am used to sleeping little and staying up long into the night; trained by late nights on the road," I explained. "You, on the other hand, are used to at least some semblance of a normal life and therefore you are not equipped enough to handle low levels of sleep." I had to smile a little bit at that; just happy that I could actually come up with something.

"Relax, I don't think that one bad night of sleeping will make or break me," he laughed before kissing my forehead for the second time that morning – and also causing my heart rate to skyrocket for the second time. "You worry too much."

"Yeah; well, some of the easiest habits are the hardest ones to break," I frowned as he pulled away again and tried to focus on calming my heart. I could hear his eyes roll around in his head and sense him shaking his head. "Anyways, I'm going to go take a shower," I walked back to my closet and pulled out some clothes. "Maybe you can rest for a bit while I'm gone."

"I'll be right here, waiting for you," he said. I turned around to find him walking around with a notebook in his hand, before splaying out across my bed to read it; avoiding the side on which the bunny sat.

I smiled and shook my head at his antics as I entered the bathroom that adjoined to my room. As I let the hot water pour over me, I tried my best not to think too much. I tried not to think about my past, tried not to think about the impending doom waiting for the gifted, and I tried not to think about the boy that was lying in my bed. I knew that if I thought it over too much, my brain would morph it all into something that it wasn't and I'd end up worse off than if I just took things as they came.

I took a relatively quick shower and stepped back outside to place my clothes in the hamper. Glancing over at the bed, I just had to smile. Simon, who had just moments before told me that one bad night of sleep would not make or break him, was passed out on my bed with the notebook he had been reading hovering over his open hand.

"Whatever happened to simply getting enough sleep, huh?" I murmured as I took in his peacefully slumbering form. I walked over to the bed and took a look at the notebook he had stolen; I saw that it had been the notebook in which I had written all my nightmares in. I sighed as I closed the notebook and put it back on my shelf. Before leaving the room, I covered him up with blankets and pressed my lips to his forehead. "And you tell me not to worry."

28: Waking Up

I had decided to make some breakfast for everyone; I figured that it would be a nice way to start the morning. I had managed to buy some pancake mix, syrup, and some sausage links at the store the other day and I finally had a chance to cook some of it up. As I worked with the food, I turned some music on; setting it on a low volume, so as not to wake anyone up.

"I can't seem to change you or open up your eyes. So, go on and sing your sad, sad song," singing along quietly to the music, I placed the sausages in a pan and ran a little water on them before placing the pan on the stove and turning the burner on medium.

"I don't even blame you, the routine is nice; nine to five in a suit and tie. Fear of failure; a comfort zone's killed," I poured the pancake mix in a bowl and added the right amount of water. Once I had stirred the contents in the bowl, I set another pan on the stove; turning the burner on high and sprinkling the pan with water – and waited.

"Brace yourself and give into the moment. You've got nothing to lose. So, what is your excuse? Save yourself; you're dying in slow motion. You've got nothing to lose. So, what's your excuse?" Once I was sure that the pan was warm enough, I started to pour the batter on the pan in little circles. "Life can't seem to teach you the safe guard is right. So, stray from the fight. Don't you realize? The day dreamer's nightmare is to never even try. Your time has slipped by. Fear of failure; a comfort zone's killed.*"

"Why didn't you wake me?" a drowsy inquiry pulled me out of my singing. I turned around to find a disheveled Simon taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"You looked so peaceful, sleeping there," I answered with a smile on my face. "Besides, you need your sleep." I went back to flipping the pancakes and placing them on a plate.

"You still should have woken me up," he grumbled. I simply smiled and shook my head. "Are you making pancakes?"

"Yeah, I've been craving them lately," I answered. "I've never really had enough people over to make them, though. It would be kind of hard to make just enough for one or two people."

"It smells delicious," he sounded muffled. I turned around to find that he had placed his arms on the table and laid his head on them.

"Thanks," I smirked a little at his stubbornness. "Why don't you go back to my bed or the couch? Either one will probably be a lot more comfortable than falling asleep at the table."

"No, I'm completely awake!" He quickly sat up and looked at me with wide, glassy eyes. I couldn't hold in the giggles that escaped and he half-heartedly glared at me. I was still giggling as I turned back to the pancakes. "Is there anything I can help with?" Translation: Is there anything that I can do that will keep me from passing out?

"Um, yeah," I answered as I poured the last of the batter onto the pan and sat the bowl on the counter next to the sink. "If you want something to do, could you please rinse some of those dishes? I don't want to wash them until after breakfast, but it would give us less work later if they get rinsed now."

"Sure thing," he jumped up and started working at the sink. He began to rinse the glass cups that we drank from last night and seemed to be deep in thought.

"What are you thinking so hard about, over there?" I asked after a moment of silence, as I flipped the last pancake on the plate.

"Do you think that your relationship with Mason will change?" he asked out of the blue. I mean, that was one of the things I was worried about; that Mason would start avoiding me after coming clean about our past, but I didn't think that it would bother Simon so much.

"I hope not," I answered slowly, not exactly sure how I was supposed to answer that. "I mean, we've finally become something similar to friends; I would hate to have something like this set us back again."

"So, you'd rather the events of last night not affect you guys in any way?" What was with all the strange questions on that particular morning?

"If it was to cause an effect, I would want it to be that he might be more open with us," I answered after a moment of thinking. "That his walls might be torn down and that he might have peace." Simon was silent as he pondered that. While he thought it over, I searched the kitchen for tin foil and once I found it, proceeded to cover the plate of pancakes with it. Then, I moved the fully cooked sausages from the pan to a plate and covered them in the tin foil, as well.

"Have you ever worried about being left completely alone?" he had become so serious suddenly and I was starting to worry about what he was thinking.

"I used to," I answered carefully and honestly. "There was times when my dad would drop me off at school and I'd find myself surrounded by people I didn't know. I'd start thinking to myself, 'What if one day he drops me off and he just doesn't come back? What if he decides that he can't take it anymore? What if I'm left to wander aimlessly among the mass of strangers?'"

"How did you defeat your fear?" he asked, his eyes burning through the bowl that he was rinsing. I watched him work as I thought over an answer. I was studying the way his black bangs kept falling into his electric green eyes, when I realized something.

"I don't think that I ever really did," I voiced my revelation quietly. The electric green eyes that had been burning through the bowl turned their attention on me. "No matter how much I told myself that he would never leave me, it was always somewhere in the back of my mind. Until I came here and then it just didn't matter anymore; it had already been done." I seemed to have an underlying fear that everyone was going to leave, at some point. It sounded really sucky, when I put it that way.

"But you're still afraid that you'll be left alone?" he asked as if he knew; as if he could understand what I was thinking. I had to look away from his gaze as my heart began to pound and I couldn't think straight.

"I guess, I am," I answered as I looked out of the kitchen window; the colorful leaves and October scenery barely even registering in my brain.

"If there was a way to make that fear go away, what would it be?" I could still sense his eyes upon me as he spoke.

"I don't know," I laughed awkwardly, not really comfortable with such a serious topic. "Why are you asking all of this so suddenly?"

"No reason," he lied. "I've just been thinking about things recently." I turned to look at him again and found him staring at the now empty sink.

"And you worry about my thoughts," I grumbled to myself as I started to search for the syrup bottle. Once found, I sat the bottle on the table and turned back around to face Simon. I found him watching me with a weird smile on his face, but before I could ask him what, he smiled and shook his head

"Stacey and Charlie are talking about coming up for Fall Break," he announced cheerfully and randomly. "They can't wait to meet you."

"That's awesome! I can't wait to meet them, as well!" I answered honestly, while handing Simon the dishtowel so that he would stop drip drying over the floor. "Wait a second, how do they know about me?"

"Well, you know Mom; quite the talker that one," he had a sly smile on his lips and suddenly found the dishtowel to be very interesting. "And Dad's very proud of the progress that you're making at the division."

"Hmm, is that so?" I asked, with an eyebrow raised. Something told me that he was telling a lie of omission.

"And, you know, I might have said a thing or two about you," he wore a playful grin on his face; I think mostly to hide the slight blush that had crept up.

"And the truth comes out," I teased; trying to hide my own blush as I pulled four plates out of the cabinet. He laughed a bit as he started searching for the forks.

"Do I smell pancakes?" a sleepy voice called from the doorway. I looked over to see Seth rubbing the sleep out of his calm, green eyes and coming over to sit at the table.

"Yeah," Simon answered. "Anna made them." Seth looked between the two of us as if he was trying to grasp something that had been said.

"You cook?!" he exclaimed suddenly as if he was outraged that I had been holding out on him or something. "You never told me that."

"Well, it never really came up," I giggled a little at his reaction. "And it's not like I'm an awesome chef or anything; all I just follow the recipes."

"That's still pretty impressive around here," he pouted as his eyes searched the kitchen for what I assumed to be the pancakes. "Are we allowed to eat them?"

"Of course," I couldn't help, but laugh at him. "We're just waiting for Mason to wake up." Seth stood up with a speed that was impressive for someone who had just rolled out of bed.

"I'll go get him," he yelled as he sprinted towards the door. I quickly caught him by the arm before he could exit.

"No, you won't," I responded to the surprised look that he gave me. "Let him sleep. You were all up late last night." Seth shot Simon an accusing look; calling him out on his tattle. "Honestly, you two are crazy for being up so early."

"Tell me about it," a slightly cranky voice came from the doorway. All eyes turned on the grey eyed boy who had been awoken by our banter.

"Good morning," I smiled guiltily. "Sorry if we woke you; I've been trying to get everyone to sleep in a little more." I gave Simon a playful glare and he simply grinned.

"It's okay," Mason shrugged as he walked in and sat down in the chair that he had sat in last night. I was really worried that once he had woken up, he would start acting weird, but I tried not to let it show. "I smell pancakes."

"I'm guessing that you boys must be really hungry," I murmured to myself as I walked over to the counter and started to remove the tin foil from the plates of food. I sat the pancakes in the microwave for a few seconds to warm them up and then did the same with the sausage. Placing them on the table, "Breakfast is served."

"Thanks," Seth said as he soon starting grabbing food and filling his plate. Mason murmured his thanks and began to do the same. I stood with my hand hovering on the back of my chair; watching the scene before me. I thought it strange until I remembered the saying 'a way to a man's heart is his stomach'; these young men were proof that the saying was true.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Simon surprised me by whispering in my ear. I snapped out of my reverie and smiled at him.

"Yeah, sorry; I was just spacing," I said as I sat down. Simon chuckled a little and sat down in his own seat. As Seth raised his first bite to his mouth, he suddenly decided that he wanted to say a blessing over the food first. Simon and Mason both had their forks suspended inches from their mouths and gave him and incredulous look, but went along with his plea peaceably.

"Dear Lord," he started. "Thank you for this food and giving us the miraculous chef, Anna, and please forgive her for not revealing her mad cooking skills earlier. Once again, thank you and please bless this food; Amen."

"Wow; really?!" I exclaimed from embarrassment and shock; unsure of which was the prominent emotion at that moment. All three boys were rolling off their chairs with laughter and soon it was so contagious that I was forced to join in.

As I laughed with the boys, I couldn't help thinking about Emma and Bethany as well. I wanted to experience more moments of fun and laughter with my friends. I wanted to be free from fear and from bondage; I wanted us all to be able to live again.

---

*The lyrics are from the song "Daydreamer's Nightmare" by 10 Years. I would recommend listening while you read, not because it really adds to the story or anything, but because it's a pretty awesome song. ^_-

29: They Will Never Die

"See, if we let them take what was ours to conceive

Then these circumstances, they will never die

So if you believe the world has killed your dreams

Then take your turn to shine," – Nine Lashes

---

We had all planned to go back to the hospital to visit Emma again, but her parents had sent news that she had been released. When they called, they had asked us not to come over so Emma could spend some time recuperating. I tried not to let that get to me; tried to see their reasoning, but it still hurt.

Since it was Saturday, we were all left to fill our time in our own ways. Mason had decided to take it upon himself to go over to Emma's despite her parents' requests. Seth wandered around the house restlessly until I suggested that he go over to Bethany's and keep her company, since she was probably lonely without Emma. He agreed readily and that was where he spent his day; until the football game later that night. Simon stayed with me to help unpack the boxes that were sitting in my closet.

"It's been a while since I haven't been living out of a suitcase or box of some kind," I commented as I pulled a blouse out of a box and placed it on a hanger. "Now, I can't understand how I fit all these boxes in our cramped little car."

"Welcome to the spoiled life of living in a real home," Simon teased from where he sat by the bookshelves. I had given him a box of my books to sort through as he had originally grabbed a random box and ended up embarrassing both of us by coming across my unmentionables.

"Yeah, I'm really starting to get used to this," I chuckled as I continued working with my closet. As I hung another blouse up in the closet, I heard a rare set of footsteps come to stop in my doorway. The strange clacking of heals on hardwood caused me to look up at the new arrival.

"Did you make breakfast?" My mother's brown eyes met mine accusingly. I figured that she must have seen the dishes that I had left to drip-dry in the dish drainer. Her hair was done up in a bun on the top of her head; its reddish-brown color the only trait that I received from her.

"Um, yeah; pancakes," I answered the woman brilliantly. "Oh, don't mind the dishes; I planned on drying them when I was done with what I was doing up here."

"Why's Simon here? Where's your step-brother?" Every time my mother and I's paths crossed, she would interrogate me. Our relationship had become so strained that this was the only way she could seem to communicate with me. I hated it, but had long since given up on trying to fix it; tired of being pushed away.

"Seth's at a friend's house," I answered the second question first, since I knew that she would want to hear that one most. "Simon's helping me unpack the rest of my things."

"You haven't done that yet? Don't tell me you're a procrastinator." I tried to take a deep breath and be nonchalant about the whole thing; I didn't want to let her know that she was getting to me because I knew that it would only open me up for more irritation. "Which friend is Seth with? Is it one of his football buddies?"

"Um, no," I answered as calmly as I could manage. "He's with Bethany Rivers; a really good friend of ours."

"He's with a girl?!" I slowly nodded my head, not really sure how I was to respond. "She's a friend of yours? What kind of girl is she? What is she into?" I tried my best not to let that go through me.

"Books," Simon answered my mother's rant calmly. "She's into books . . . and chivalrous guys that open her door for her; that are willing to wait for her; that are going to completely respect her, Mrs. Valentine."

"What girl isn't in to that?" I asked, forgetting my mother for a moment and turning to grin at my green-eyed friend. He chuckled and returned my grin.

"Well, what are they doing over at her house?" My mother's voice directed our attention back to her. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up the text conversation that I had been having with Bethany.

"Last I heard, they were watching a movie and discussing the differences between it and its original book," I walked closer to the door and stretched out the hand that held the phone; keeping my distance. She squinted her eyes as she read through the texts and then made a murmur of reluctant approval.

"Don't forget that he has a football game tonight," She said her parting words and started to walk off. I let out a sigh of relief as I heard her faint clacking of heals as she descended down the stairs.

"That was slightly uncomfortable," I tried to laugh it off quietly. I was quickly surprised by two arms wrapping themselves around my waist and holding me close. At first, I gasped, but then I simply smiled and placed my hands over the big, strong hands that held me. "Thank you . . . for everything."

"Meh, it's no big thing," he shrugged it off and we continued on with our work. We continued to converse as we worked; keeping the conversation light and easy.

Neither one of us wanted to leave the other to dwell too much on our own dark thoughts. Even with the distractions, my mind would still wander; I'd start to worry about what would happen to our friends with the hunters still at large and intent on killing us off. On occasion, I would glance over at Simon and find him spacing; similar fears being mulled over in his brain.

We unpacked everything and threw away the empty boxes. We still had some time before the game, so I started to dry and put away the breakfast dishes that remained in the drainer. While I was working on that, Seth burst into the house and ran to his bedroom. He came back into the kitchen carrying his sport equipment.

"Do you guys mind picking up Bethany for the game?" he asked. "I had to go early to get ready, so I couldn't take her myself; I just don't want her to go alone."

"We'll pick her up," Simon assured him. "Don't worry; we'll make sure she's safe." Relief visibly flooded though Seth.

"Thanks," he grinned and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before he started heading out. "See you, guys!"

"See you," we both murmured in response as he exited the house. As he left, an uneasy feeling started forming in the pit of my stomach. Before thinking too much about it, I ran to the front door and threw it open only to find that Seth's car had already pulled out of the drive-way before I could stop him.

"Is something wrong?" Simon asked anxiously; my sudden actions seeming strange to him. "Did he forget something?"

"I have a bad feeling," I admitted slowly as I clenched and unclenched the slightly damp towel that I had carried with me.

"Something bad is going to happen?" he asked as I stared out into the nearly vacant drive-way.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I just don't like this feeling. Something feels so off, but I can't pin-prick exactly what it is. I feel as if whatever it is, it involves Seth, though." I could only say a prayer for him as I had no idea what was really wrong.

"Maybe we should pick up Bethany and head to the game early," he suggested. I nodded my head and we went back inside to quickly finish up what we were doing so we could leave.

"I'm going to run upstairs and grab my bag," I announced after we had put away the last dish. He nodded and I dashed out.

The bad feeling continued to grow with every step that I took. I tried to shake it off and tried to tell myself that it was nothing; that I was just turning something simple into something horrible. Even though I knew better than to doubt the feeling, I couldn't help but hope that it was wrong.

I desperately needed it to be wrong; I couldn't take anymore. My knees gave out on me and hit the floor of my bedroom. The fear of the unknown began to suffocate me; my imagination started filling in the holes. Images of my friends being surrounded by the witch hunters flooded my mind before I could stop them.

I didn't want those around me to become like the ghosts that had been haunting my nightmares for weeks; I didn't want them to fall because of me. Tears fell from my eyes as I thought of what could happen to them. After a few moments of quietly sobbing, I stood up and scolded myself for falling apart; I needed to stop worrying about the 'What if' and prepare myself for whatever was really going to go down.

After standing, it still took a while to wipe away all the tears that blurred my vision. When I could finally see, though, I was surprised by the scene in front of my eyes; I was surrounded. Alex, Harley, and Hannah stood around me; waiting patiently.

"Hello," I said as calmly and quietly as I could; not wanting to alert Simon who was waiting downstairs. "Um, is there any particular reason why you are all congregating in my bedroom?"

"There has been a lot of talking among the dead, recently," Alex's electric green eyes held so much sorrow as he reluctantly spoke.

"We've all been debating if we should push you in a particular direction," Hannah spoke up, seeming as if she also dreaded saying the words.

"Something's coming, though; something bad," Harley said as if he couldn't care less how this would affect me. "Tonight could go one of two ways; the enemy could get their hands on someone very valuable . . . or the tables could begin to turn."

"What are you talking about?" I asked; interested in what was being said, but still a little hesitant about what that entailed.

"The witch hunters are going to attack again, tonight," Alex spoke up again. "They are still too frightened to do it directly, though. They will strike at those close to you and use them against you."

"What? How do you know this?" my eyes fell on Alex again and he squirmed a little under my sudden gaze.

"After you showed up at our school, we did a little thinking," Harley said, turning my attention back on him. "After we thought, we decided that we wanted to finally get justice and we didn't want some weak little ghost hunter to get it for us; so we started to follow some witch hunters that we had come across as they were 'just doing their job'." His grey eyes darkened as he thought about the wicked people.

"We followed them into their base, but once we arrived there we came to a sad realization," Hannah took over for her brother; her grey eyes looking up at me with sorrow and a glimmer of hope. "We couldn't do anything to them; they simply refused to acknowledge our presence. Then, we knew that we would need some help if we were to ever receive justice."

"Although, instead of coming to you and asking for help, they decided to stay and observe the hunters," Alex continued, obviously not pleased with their actions.

"Anyways," Harley spoke up again and glared at Alex; not happy with him speaking up on their behalf. "While we were spying on them, we overheard them talking about their plans of capturing some people. There were two people that they were especially intent on getting; some Taylor girl and . . . and Mason."

"The only reason that they came to you was because they wouldn't risk their brother getting taken by the hunters," Alex stated, earning another glare from the young boy.

"You know for a fact that they're going to attack tonight?" I asked, turning to the children. The young girl came and clasped my hand in her own tiny, ethereal ones.

"They're going to take away one of you and bubby's friends," her voice was laced with pain. "They're going to take a normal human as hostage and give you guys the choice of surrendering and saving his life or resisting and still getting captured, but the friend dies."

"Seth," I breathed as the reason for the bad feeling came to light. Among our group of friends, he was the most normal, most human, of us all.

"It doesn't matter who it is," Harley burst angrily. "You cannot, under any circumstance, surrender and you must not allow Mason to. If the hunters get their hands on either one of you, it will be the downfall for all of the gifted. And if they manage to get you both, we can all kiss revolution and justice good-bye."

"What do you mean?" I asked. I was starting to feel as if this was a lot to throw on a girl all at once. I really just wanted to run, but I knew that it wouldn't change the situation any.

"They've been working on perfecting their brain-washing machine," Hannah said, still holding on to my hand; squeezing it even tighter. "They need to see the past results and they also need a guinea pig. They want to use our brother for his knowledge; use his gift so they can annihilate everyone that holds a gift."

"He would never do that," I exclaimed. "He'd rather die first." I knew all the hang-ups he had with the hunters; he would never do anything to benefit them.

"They're going to give him a choice," the young Harley spat out. "He can either do as they say or watch his friends die. They already planned out the order in which they were going to kill them off; saving the Taylor girl for the very last as she would be the most useful."

"Oh," that would probably change things. "Aren't they going to kill us off anyways?" I tried to find reason in this mess.

"Once they perfect the brain-washing machine, they'll offer to strip away their gifts and allow them to live," Harley continued. "That's their way of making a plea deal."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" I asked; hoping that after everything that they had told me; they had come up with a brilliant plan.

"They're after you and Mason," Alex pointed out the obvious. "The two of you should probably leave and lie low for a while."

"No," I wasn't going to run away; that was where I was going to put my foot down. "I am not going to leave my friends behind to die; they don't deserve that." Alex seemed stunned by my outburst.

"You better have some kind of an army if you plan on defeating the hunters," Harley added his piece of wisdom. "There are tons of them."

"There are tons of us as well," I reminded him. After the words came out of my mouth, I could hear Simon calling out to me from the stairs. "Uh, give me a second!" I called out as I grabbed the bag that I had originally come up here for. Before I could reach the door, Hannah stopped me and silently gave me a big hug.

"Be careful," Alex voiced the words that seemed to be on the little girl's mind. I nodded and hugged the girl back. Then, I had to leave and ride off into my impending fate.

"Is there something else wrong?" Simon asked as soon as he caught a glimpse of my face.

"I'll explain on the way," I answered as I ran past him. "We have to go, now." I had a feeling that we were already too late, but I hoped that maybe I could do or find out something.

As I explained what Alex and the twins had said to me, Simon listened patiently. He agreed with me; they would probably go after Seth, since he was the only one that they were almost positive of being normal and it would explain the bad feeling I had. What he didn't agree with, however, was my decision to stay; he didn't try to dissuade me, though, because he knew I wasn't going to change my mind.

When we arrived at Bethany's, he jumped out to let Bethany know that we had arrived. I stayed in the car and tried to call Seth's cell-phone. Simon waited at the door for Bethany to come out; I waited for the phone to be answered. The door opened; the call went to voice-mail.

30: Never Surrender

"I don't wanna feel like this tomorrow,

I don't wanna live like this today,

Make me feel better,

I wanna feel better,

Stay with me here now,

And never surrender," - Skillet

---

Bethany was on edge the moment she entered the car; our emotions prevalent in our auras. She knew something was up and – after the last incident – she was not afraid to ask; she was tired of being left in the dark. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that we had a bit of a drive to the school; I had a long story to tell.

Bethany had known bits and pieces of my past life due to rumors and talk among the gifted, but I had to let it all out so she could completely grasp what was going on now. The past was not the hardest part to share; it had already come to pass and the effects of it were mostly over and done with. The present and the unforeseeable future, however, were a different story; I wasn't sure how she would react.

We had pulled into the school parking lot before I could tell her about the latest attack. Bethany and I stayed quiet while Simon dealt with the bored JROTC student as he helped us find a place to park; the lot already pretty much packed. As we parked, I thought over how to carefully tell her my vexing theory and the plan that I had come up with.

"There's more, isn't there?" Bethany asked gravely. "You're not really upset about the past. There's something more recent."

"Um, yeah," I said slowly; painfully taking a deep breath. "We have reason to believe that Seth may be targeted by the hunters, if he hasn't been already."

"Wait; what?!" her panic was clear in her voice. "What do you mean? That's not really possible, is it? He's not gifted." I tried to calmly explain what had been said to me and how I felt about the situation; it was difficult to do with Bethany, whose fear was feeding into mine. Simon left to see if Seth was with the football team while I was in the midst of my explanation; I silently prayed that he was, but inside I think that I knew he wouldn't be.

"I know that this is a lot to spring on you," I laughed humorlessly after everything was out in the open. "I don't really know how tonight's going to go, but I need to ask you a favor."

"What do you need?" she asked carefully. Her tearstained face stayed blank; I guessed that she had enough of my problems lately and wasn't ready to welcome another one.

"When I surrender to the hunters, I need you to promise me that you will do everything in your power to keep Mason and the others from getting into their hands," my hands trembled at the very thought of everyone falling into their trap. "Maybe once Seth gets freed, the five of you can go run and hide somewhere."

"What are you saying? Are you crazy?" Bethany exclaimed in a rather un-Bethany like way. "How is that going to be any better? So, we just flee while they torture you and use you to get information on how to afflict us all?"

"You'll have Mason; they won't be able to really use whatever information that they get from their research without him," I pointed out.

"Even if we did run away, they'd still find us," her mind was running through all the possible ways that my plan could fail. "You're living proof of that."

"Then, you just won't settle in one place for too long," I had already thought this through. "I know life on the road doesn't seem like a very appetizing prospect, but it does get better with time."

"What about the guilt, the pain, and the anguish of losing our friend? When will that get any better?" Her blue eyes shone brightly with determination; she wasn't about to let me walk into uncertain doom without putting up a fight of her own first.

"It won't be your fault," I stated. "And don't think about the loss; think about what you'll be saving." This was said partially for myself, as well; I didn't want to leave my friends, but I felt that it would be best that way.

"Didn't that little boy warn you not to surrender?" she wasn't ready to let up, quite yet. I noticed, though, that she was trying really hard to find something – anything – that would convince me to stay.

"Like I said earlier, you will have Mason," I sighed, really not wanting to argue with her, but at the same time I felt like this was what I had to do. "They can't do anything unless they have Mason."

"And how exactly am I to keep Mason from running blindly to your rescue?" Bethany asked. "Am I supposed to persuade him to stay? Because, I am doing such a great job of it with you." Her anger and frustration at the situation was shown in her sarcasm.

"None of you would ever agree to this this plan, would you?" I groaned; having hoped for a better response.

"Nope," she answered honestly. "Come on; there has to be a better way. I'm sure that we can find a way to save Seth without sending you to the slaughter."

"We won't have enough time," I argued. "They view Seth as something worthless; disposable. They wouldn't waste a second in getting rid of him. They'll probably kill him the moment that I say that we're not coming."

"We can't even fight them? There has to be some way; we can't just lose," she refused to believe in the injustice that had become our lives.

"Look, Harley said that there are tons of them," I reminded her. "Even if we did magically procure an army, we wouldn't have enough time to coordinate or effectively take action. And even then, think about all the lives that we'd be putting in danger."

"But you said earlier that we should focus on what we are saving and not on the loss," she threw my words back at me.

"We still wouldn't have enough time," I argued. We sat in silence for a while as we had come to a bitter impasse.

"I have an idea," Bethany said suddenly. "Even though I hate the very thought of it, you have to go with the hunters for this to work."

"What's your plan?" I asked; she still didn't seem too thrilled with the new plan that she came up with. I could see her trying to come up with something different; something better.

"We give them half of what they want in exchange for Seth; sending you and keeping Mason. Then, we begin to pray hard; that they don't accidentally kill you or harm you during their research," Her plan started sounding a lot like my original plan. "When you're in their torture chambers, it will give us enough time to gather an army and come free you."

"What if they don't give Seth up without getting Mason in return?" I asked, seeing how that could possibly affect the plan.

"Just say that he's not involved in it or something," she explained. "Then, we hope that they put their faith in the fact that Mason will not let you get taken by them again."

"That's brilliant!" I exclaimed after thinking the plan through. "This could actually work. Do you think that we could convince the others to go along with it?"

"Convince the others of what?" Mason's head popped into the driver side window and scared the crap out of me; I hadn't known it to be open the whole time we were talking.

"To send Anna to the hunters in exchange for Seth, while we procure an army to go against the hunters," Bethany answered with a mix of timidity and pride.

"What?!" this came, not from Mason, but from a very outraged Emma who was hobbling behind him.

"Open the back door and let her sit down," I advised Mason, not wanting Emma to have to stand for too long on her crutch. He did as I asked and once Emma was seated she began to ask the question again, but was interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

"Is it Simon?" Bethany asked anxiously as I looked at the screen. I murmured an affirmative as Simon's face lit up my phone. As I answered the call, I could hear Bethany bringing Emma and Mason up to date on what was going on.

"Hey," I answered carefully, trying not to let my fear bleed through my words. "Do you know anything new?" Please let Seth be there; please let him be okay!

"His car's here," he said, giving me a flicker of hope before completely crushing my dreams. "He wasn't on the field, in the locker room, or anywhere on school property, though. I gave the coach some excuse about him coming down with a sudden stomach virus. I didn't get a good look at his car; I only know that he wasn't in it."

"Thanks," I breathed out as I closed my eyes and tried to think straight. "I should probably go take a look at it, then. Oh, um; Bethany came up with a plan."

"Really?" he sounded a little hopeful; he had a good idea of what my plan was going to be and he wasn't too thrilled about it, but I think that he was waiting on confirmation of my brother's status before he spoke his mind.

"Uh huh," I answered carefully, knowing that this plan still wouldn't satisfy him. "In order to keep everyone safe, we're going to have to fight back, right?"

"Okay," he said slowly, sensing my hesitation. "I'm with you so far." I could hear his uneasiness as he started to wonder what path I was heading towards.

"And in order to fight back, we'd need an organized army," he murmured in agreement. "And in order to be organized, we need some time."

"And they'd kill Seth in a second if they knew that you weren't going to follow their plans," Simon sighed. "I don't like where this is going."

"This way, it will give you guys the time you need to organize," I argued. He was silent for a moment as he tried to find fault with my logic.

"What if they hurt you while we're busy establishing this militia?" he was solemn as he asked this; the thought weighing heavy on his heart. "What if they take away your gift again? What if you lose your memory?"

My heart skipped a beat as what he was saying hit me. What if I lost my gift again? What if I did lose my memory? What if I forgot all about my friends? What if I forgot about the time we spent together? "We pray that it doesn't come that that," I answered as I tried to fight back tears. "And if it does, I'll find some way to deal; I've done it before."

"What if the damage is too great this time?" I could hear him fighting his own tears; trying to stay strong.

"We need to have faith," I stressed. "I honestly believe that this is the reason God put us here and if that's the case, don't you think that it will go according to the plan?"

"I'm just worried that 'the plan' isn't going to be our plan," he murmured. After a moment's pause, he sighed; he knew that he wasn't going to convince me to not go through with the plan. "I'm heading towards the car; see you in a little bit?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a little bit," I responded. Then, we ended the conversation and I turned to three pairs of questioning eyes. "Seth's gone," they had all gathered that from my side of the call, but I could tell that the confirmation was still disheartening.

"What did Simon say about your little plan?" Mason asked, clearly not happy with the circumstances.

"He's none too thrilled about it," I answered honestly. I could see a flicker of hope ignite in Mason's eyes. "But he understands that it's the best thing we can come up with." I opened the car door and got out; Bethany and Emma followed suit.

"Where are you going?" Emma asked. I looked over the roof of the Taurus and took in my brown-eyed friend's slightly overwhelmed appearance. Her skin was unusually pale and it was hard to miss her leg as it was secured in a bulky cast; both alterations only attested to the rough time she'd had in the past couple of days.

"I'm going to look at Seth's car," I answered carefully. She nodded and wobbled over to where I stood; indicating that she was going to come with me.

"Are you hoping to find something there?" Mason asked as he slammed the door Emma had just come out of.

"I have a feeling that they left something for us there," I answered honestly. I had a sudden nagging feeling that was different from the feeling that I had been having all night. I turned to look up into Mason's brooding, grey eyes. "You're not going to sabotage that plan, are you?" His face betrayed his surprise. "We need you to be cooperative if this plan is going to go on without a hitch. You do realize that this is the best way, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he said reluctantly. "I'll go along with the plan, but how exactly are we to procure this army?"

"Get together with Sergeant Hugo," I answered as we started the trek towards Seth's car. "He'll probably have some good ideas and maybe he can convince some of the other divisions to help. You're going to need all the people you can get."

It didn't take long for me to find my brother's Saturn among the sea of vehicles; it was the only one that had Simon standing beside it, waiting to get in. He turned to face us as we approached and held his hand out to me.

"I was looking in the window and saw a couple things that were out of place," he stated as I took his outstretched hand. "There's a notepad with a pen and a cell-phone in the passenger seat."

"Is it unlocked?" I asked, wondering why he was standing outside of the car. He nodded and I opened the passenger door. I took in the notepad with the lined, yellow paper and the promotional pen.

I picked up the pen and saw that it was promoting a Children's Law Center of Massachusetts. Upon a closer inspection, I saw that the center was located in Lynn; I threw the pen back in the seat. I picked the cell phone up and saw that it was actually Seth's phone. As I pondered the reason they left it lying in the seat, it rang.

31: Never Surrender

"I don't wanna feel like this tomorrow,

I don't wanna live like this today,

Make me feel better,

I wanna feel better,

Stay with me here now,

And never surrender," - Skillet

---

Bethany was on edge the moment she entered the car; our emotions prevalent in our auras. She knew something was up and – after the last incident – she was not afraid to ask; she was tired of being left in the dark. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that we had a bit of a drive to the school; I had a long story to tell.

Bethany had known bits and pieces of my past life due to rumors and talk among the gifted, but I had to let it all out so she could completely grasp what was going on now. The past was not the hardest part to share; it had already come to pass and the effects of it were mostly over and done with. The present and the unforeseeable future, however, were a different story; I wasn't sure how she would react.

We had pulled into the school parking lot before I could tell her about the latest attack. Bethany and I stayed quiet while Simon dealt with the bored JROTC student as he helped us find a place to park; the lot already pretty much packed. As we parked, I thought over how to carefully tell her my vexing theory and the plan that I had come up with.

"There's more, isn't there?" Bethany asked gravely. "You're not really upset about the past. There's something more recent."

"Um, yeah," I said slowly; painfully taking a deep breath. "We have reason to believe that Seth may be targeted by the hunters, if he hasn't been already."

"Wait; what?!" her panic was clear in her voice. "What do you mean? That's not really possible, is it? He's not gifted." I tried to calmly explain what had been said to me and how I felt about the situation; it was difficult to do with Bethany, whose fear was feeding into mine. Simon left to see if Seth was with the football team while I was in the midst of my explanation; I silently prayed that he was, but inside I think that I knew he wouldn't be.

"I know that this is a lot to spring on you," I laughed humorlessly after everything was out in the open. "I don't really know how tonight's going to go, but I need to ask you a favor."

"What do you need?" she asked carefully. Her tearstained face stayed blank; I guessed that she had enough of my problems lately and wasn't ready to welcome another one.

"When I surrender to the hunters, I need you to promise me that you will do everything in your power to keep Mason and the others from getting into their hands," my hands trembled at the very thought of everyone falling into their trap. "Maybe once Seth gets freed, the five of you can go run and hide somewhere."

"What are you saying? Are you crazy?" Bethany exclaimed in a rather un-Bethany like way. "How is that going to be any better? So, we just flee while they torture you and use you to get information on how to afflict us all?"

"You'll have Mason; they won't be able to really use whatever information that they get from their research without him," I pointed out.

"Even if we did run away, they'd still find us," her mind was running through all the possible ways that my plan could fail. "You're living proof of that."

"Then, you just won't settle in one place for too long," I had already thought this through. "I know life on the road doesn't seem like a very appetizing prospect, but it does get better with time."

"What about the guilt, the pain, and the anguish of losing our friend? When will that get any better?" Her blue eyes shone brightly with determination; she wasn't about to let me walk into uncertain doom without putting up a fight of her own first.

"It won't be your fault," I stated. "And don't think about the loss; think about what you'll be saving." This was said partially for myself, as well; I didn't want to leave my friends, but I felt that it would be best that way.

"Didn't that little boy warn you not to surrender?" she wasn't ready to let up, quite yet. I noticed, though, that she was trying really hard to find something – anything – that would convince me to stay.

"Like I said earlier, you will have Mason," I sighed, really not wanting to argue with her, but at the same time I felt like this was what I had to do. "They can't do anything unless they have Mason."

"And how exactly am I to keep Mason from running blindly to your rescue?" Bethany asked. "Am I supposed to persuade him to stay? Because, I am doing such a great job of it with you." Her anger and frustration at the situation was shown in her sarcasm.

"None of you would ever agree to this this plan, would you?" I groaned; having hoped for a better response.

"Nope," she answered honestly. "Come on; there has to be a better way. I'm sure that we can find a way to save Seth without sending you to the slaughter."

"We won't have enough time," I argued. "They view Seth as something worthless; disposable. They wouldn't waste a second in getting rid of him. They'll probably kill him the moment that I say that we're not coming."

"We can't even fight them? There has to be some way; we can't just lose," she refused to believe in the injustice that had become our lives.

"Look, Harley said that there are tons of them," I reminded her. "Even if we did magically procure an army, we wouldn't have enough time to coordinate or effectively take action. And even then, think about all the lives that we'd be putting in danger."

"But you said earlier that we should focus on what we are saving and not on the loss," she threw my words back at me.

"We still wouldn't have enough time," I argued. We sat in silence for a while as we had come to a bitter impasse.

"I have an idea," Bethany said suddenly. "Even though I hate the very thought of it, you have to go with the hunters for this to work."

"What's your plan?" I asked; she still didn't seem too thrilled with the new plan that she came up with. I could see her trying to come up with something different; something better.

"We give them half of what they want in exchange for Seth; sending you and keeping Mason. Then, we begin to pray hard; that they don't accidentally kill you or harm you during their research," Her plan started sounding a lot like my original plan. "When you're in their torture chambers, it will give us enough time to gather an army and come free you."

"What if they don't give Seth up without getting Mason in return?" I asked, seeing how that could possibly affect the plan.

"Just say that he's not involved in it or something," she explained. "Then, we hope that they put their faith in the fact that Mason will not let you get taken by them again."

"That's brilliant!" I exclaimed after thinking the plan through. "This could actually work. Do you think that we could convince the others to go along with it?"

"Convince the others of what?" Mason's head popped into the driver side window and scared the crap out of me; I hadn't known it to be open the whole time we were talking.

"To send Anna to the hunters in exchange for Seth, while we procure an army to go against the hunters," Bethany answered with a mix of timidity and pride.

"What?!" this came, not from Mason, but from a very outraged Emma who was hobbling behind him.

"Open the back door and let her sit down," I advised Mason, not wanting Emma to have to stand for too long on her crutch. He did as I asked and once Emma was seated she began to ask the question again, but was interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

"Is it Simon?" Bethany asked anxiously as I looked at the screen. I murmured an affirmative as Simon's face lit up my phone. As I answered the call, I could hear Bethany bringing Emma and Mason up to date on what was going on.

"Hey," I answered carefully, trying not to let my fear bleed through my words. "Do you know anything new?" Please let Seth be there; please let him be okay!

"His car's here," he said, giving me a flicker of hope before completely crushing my dreams. "He wasn't on the field, in the locker room, or anywhere on school property, though. I gave the coach some excuse about him coming down with a sudden stomach virus. I didn't get a good look at his car; I only know that he wasn't in it."

"Thanks," I breathed out as I closed my eyes and tried to think straight. "I should probably go take a look at it, then. Oh, um; Bethany came up with a plan."

"Really?" he sounded a little hopeful; he had a good idea of what my plan was going to be and he wasn't too thrilled about it, but I think that he was waiting on confirmation of my brother's status before he spoke his mind.

"Uh huh," I answered carefully, knowing that this plan still wouldn't satisfy him. "In order to keep everyone safe, we're going to have to fight back, right?"

"Okay," he said slowly, sensing my hesitation. "I'm with you so far." I could hear his uneasiness as he started to wonder what path I was heading towards.

"And in order to fight back, we'd need an organized army," he murmured in agreement. "And in order to be organized, we need some time."

"And they'd kill Seth in a second if they knew that you weren't going to follow their plans," Simon sighed. "I don't like where this is going."

"This way, it will give you guys the time you need to organize," I argued. He was silent for a moment as he tried to find fault with my logic.

"What if they hurt you while we're busy establishing this militia?" he was solemn as he asked this; the thought weighing heavy on his heart. "What if they take away your gift again? What if you lose your memory?"

My heart skipped a beat as what he was saying hit me. What if I lost my gift again? What if I did lose my memory? What if I forgot all about my friends? What if I forgot about the time we spent together? "We pray that it doesn't come that that," I answered as I tried to fight back tears. "And if it does, I'll find some way to deal; I've done it before."

"What if the damage is too great this time?" I could hear him fighting his own tears; trying to stay strong.

"We need to have faith," I stressed. "I honestly believe that this is the reason God put us here and if that's the case, don't you think that it will go according to the plan?"

"I'm just worried that 'the plan' isn't going to be our plan," he murmured. After a moment's pause, he sighed; he knew that he wasn't going to convince me to not go through with the plan. "I'm heading towards the car; see you in a little bit?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a little bit," I responded. Then, we ended the conversation and I turned to three pairs of questioning eyes. "Seth's gone," they had all gathered that from my side of the call, but I could tell that the confirmation was still disheartening.

"What did Simon say about your little plan?" Mason asked, clearly not happy with the circumstances.

"He's none too thrilled about it," I answered honestly. I could see a flicker of hope ignite in Mason's eyes. "But he understands that it's the best thing we can come up with." I opened the car door and got out; Bethany and Emma followed suit.

"Where are you going?" Emma asked. I looked over the roof of the Taurus and took in my brown-eyed friend's slightly overwhelmed appearance. Her skin was unusually pale and it was hard to miss her leg as it was secured in a bulky cast; both alterations only attested to the rough time she'd had in the past couple of days.

"I'm going to look at Seth's car," I answered carefully. She nodded and wobbled over to where I stood; indicating that she was going to come with me.

"Are you hoping to find something there?" Mason asked as he slammed the door Emma had just come out of.

"I have a feeling that they left something for us there," I answered honestly. I had a sudden nagging feeling that was different from the feeling that I had been having all night. I turned to look up into Mason's brooding, grey eyes. "You're not going to sabotage that plan, are you?" His face betrayed his surprise. "We need you to be cooperative if this plan is going to go on without a hitch. You do realize that this is the best way, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he said reluctantly. "I'll go along with the plan, but how exactly are we to procure this army?"

"Get together with Sergeant Hugo," I answered as we started the trek towards Seth's car. "He'll probably have some good ideas and maybe he can convince some of the other divisions to help. You're going to need all the people you can get."

It didn't take long for me to find my brother's Saturn among the sea of vehicles; it was the only one that had Simon standing beside it, waiting to get in. He turned to face us as we approached and held his hand out to me.

"I was looking in the window and saw a couple things that were out of place," he stated as I took his outstretched hand. "There's a notepad with a pen and a cell-phone in the passenger seat."

"Is it unlocked?" I asked, wondering why he was standing outside of the car. He nodded and I opened the passenger door. I took in the notepad with the lined, yellow paper and the promotional pen.

I picked up the pen and saw that it was promoting a Children's Law Center of Massachusetts. Upon a closer inspection, I saw that the center was located in Lynn; I threw the pen back in the seat. I picked the cell phone up and saw that it was actually Seth's phone. As I pondered the reason they left it lying in the seat, it rang.

32: Until I Break

"I can't erase it because it's with me every day,"

The strangest feeling that never goes away,

Now I have to face it because I can't walk away,

And I'm determined to until I break," – Shinedown

---

I held on to the phone for dear life as I stared at the lit-up screen. The caller ID was of no help as it only informed me that the call was from a blocked number. The sample from Shinedown's "Call Me" that Seth had set as his ringtone taunted me as I debated answering it.

"Hello," I answered, surprising everyone – including myself. I somehow managed to keep my voice firm; pretty impressive considering my knees were shaking so hard that I had to lean against the Saturn to stay upright.

"Hello, Anna," the voice of an older gentleman came through the speaker and into my ears. I had to hold back a growl as the voice triggered my freshly remembered memories. I could see the grey eyed, grey haired man and I could hear his sickening laugh. "Remember me?"

"I believe you have something of mine," I chose to ignore his question; leaving the answer up to his imagination.

"You still have the same fighting spirit that you had when you were younger," he said as if he was fond of that trait; hearing his appraisal only made me feel repulsed. He added on to his creepiness, "I was looking through your school's records and I came across the photo used for your student ID; I must say you have grown into a beautiful woman."

"What have you done with my brother?" I growled, showing my displeasure with his digression; he chuckled in response.

"Oh, he'll be just fine," he said calmly, patronizing almost. I took a deep breath and squeezed the crap out of poor Simon's hand. "Besides, why not appease an old man with a little chit-chat. I feel as if we haven't spoken in years."

"Seven, to be exact," I spat out, internally chastising myself for playing along with his little game. What exactly did he want from me, again? "I kind of preferred the silence."

"So you do remember," I could just see the wicked grin that had broken out across his face as he thought that he had gotten a piece of information. I had to bite back words that I didn't even know I knew as I came to the same realization.

"I've heard stories," I said calmly, hoping that he'd buy into the lie. "For some, it's an incident that's kind of hard to forget."

"For some, it's as easy as pressing a button," he reminded me oh so cleverly. I had a sudden urge to rip his head off. As I fought the urge, I looked up to see Mason standing directly across from me; his hands tightly curled up into fists as he watched me and listened to my side of the conversation. He knew exactly who was on the other side.

"Look, old man," I said more hostile than I knew I was capable of; the pain in Mason's eyes getting a little more than I could bear. "I'm done with this 'chit-chat'. Where is my brother?"

"I promise that your brother will be released; safe and sound," he sighed; being patronizing again. There was never a person that I wanted to kill up until that moment; he brought out demons in me that were buried so deep that I think that they were supposed to be nonexistent. "But there is a price for his freedom, of course."

"Of course," I sighed; preparing myself for the worst. "What ransom do you have in mind, exactly?" I already knew what he was thinking, but I didn't want to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that I knew.

"Nothing too horrible," Yeah, just the life of your friends, the life of my family, and – just for the heck of it – let's throw in your firstborn as well. "You're friends with Mason Anderson, aren't you?"

"We tolerate each other," I spun the truth a bit; I knew he already knew the answer, but I wanted him to see that I wasn't going to crack easily. "Why?"

"I want you and Mason to come in the place of your brother, or else your brother will die," he came out with it, finally. Now came the deciding moment; the moment where the ball could fall on either side of the court.

"This isn't Mason's fight," I hoped that I had just the right amount of hostility; I didn't want him to think that I was trying to protect Mason (even though I sort of was), but I also wanted to let him know that it wasn't necessary to include him. "I can fight my own battles."

"You're still the stubborn, little girl I remember you to be," he sighed, not so fond of the trait now. "But fine, if you want to play it that way, we can do that. Do you agree to come in peace, to simply trade places with your brother, and to not attempt escape?"

"Do you agree to set my brother free?" I asked instead of answering. "Do you agree to leave my friends alone and let them live their lives with no interference from you?" A moment of silence passed and then he sighed.

"You sell a tough bargain, girly," he was displeased to say in the least. "But I'll be willing to compromise, if you are willing to do everything we say from here on out."

"I can handle that," I said, letting my own discontentment color my voice. "So, how exactly shall this exchange transpire?"

"Write this down," he ordered. I dropped Simon's hand to pick up the notepad and the taunting pen. As I scribbled the address he rambled off, I came to the realization that he was giving me the address of an old abandoned factory; the perfect place for the hunters' base.

I read the address back to him to be sure that I got everything right. "What time should I be there?" I asked before he had too much time to think too hard about the address. I could hear him thinking hard about something through the silence.

"Scratch that address," he said almost panicky; my suspicion for it being the base only grew. What an idiot! I ran the pen through the lines below the written address and ripped out the page to make it seem as if I was following his orders. As I handed Simon the original piece of paper, the man proceeded to give me another address; this one was of a park that was nearby.

"I should be there at what time?" I asked after repeating the second address. Part of me wanted to get it over with and have Seth in safe hands; another selfish part of me wanted to put it off and avoid the hunters for as long as possible.

"Midnight," the man set the date on my fate. I took a deep breath as the reality of everything suddenly hit me. "That seems like a reasonable time, right? That way there won't be too much of an issue with meddling people. We wouldn't want someone to get caught in our crossfire, would we?"

"No, sir," I answered, only really half listening to his words. "Midnight seems like a good time. Is it alright if I have a friend with me? You know, to take my brother home safely."

"That seems sensible," he said as he mulled it over. "I guess that will be okay. I'll see you at midnight, Lizzy." And then, all I heard was a beep, signaling that the call had ended.

"You have no right to call me that, you creeper," I thought aloud as I stared at the black screen of the phone.

"What's with the address you handed me?" Simon asked after a moment of silence. Mason motioned for him to hand the paper over and he did so.

"I have reason to believe that it's the closest hunter's base," I answered. "He accidentally gave it to me the first time." I rolled my eyes at his foolishness.

"It is," Mason confirmed as he inspected the paper; this being one of the rare times his gift kicked in. "We can use this in our planning."

"Thank goodness," I sighed in relief; thankful that things seemed to be going our way. I looked down at the notepad that was still in my hand. "Bethany, can you drive me to this park and then take Seth home at around midnight?"

"Um, sure," she agreed happily, albeit hesitantly. I could see everyone pondering why I asked her to do it, but none of them wanted to question my logic behind it.

"Are your parents here?" I turned to Simon to ask. He nodded and eyed me curiously. "Can you go get them, please? I want to get this ball rolling as quickly as possible."

"Sure thing," he said, giving me a kiss on the forehead before he headed towards the football field where his parents sat in the stands.

"I'm going to guess that you don't want me anywhere near that park tonight," Mason spoke up eventually; deciding he would question my logic.

"You're going to guess correctly, then," I replied, watching his grey eyes carefully; I was worried that he was planning something.

"How am I to just hand you over to them?" he asked, still having an issue with accepting our nearing fate. "Am I to be okay with them simply doing as they please with you?"

"Yes," I answered firmly, afraid that if I wavered in my response it would give him more ammo to prove his point. "You are to be okay with all of this, because this isn't even about us anymore. I mean, yeah; we're a part of it, but we've got to look at the bigger picture."

"This is our chance to fight back," Emma added solemnly; her words from the day at the hospital coming back to bite her. "This is how we can stand up to hunters; to no longer be held down in fear; to make a way for our gifts to be used in the way God intended."

"If we fight back here, the news will reach the ears of every witch hunter and every gifted," Bethany also added. "The world will know that we are no longer going to be subjected to the hunters' annihilation; that we will fight back!"

"This is our chance," I pointed out. I could see the words we spoke slowly registering into Mason's brain, but I could also see that he still wasn't too thrilled about them. "If we don't fight now, we're just going to get killed later."

"You make a good point, girls," Sergeant Hugo's voice caused us all to jump; to turn around and look at the Hugo family as they approached us. The look on the man's face was one of worry; a look that I'd come to know all too well in the past month or so. "Aren't you worried that you might be trying to rush into things, though?"

"I don't have much of a choice, sir," I answered solemnly. "They have my brother." Understanding and sorrow came into his eyes as he looked me over. "I've already agreed to an exchange."

"What do you mean?" his wife spoke up; Sergeant being too stunned by the sudden severity of the situation. Her normally reassuring blue eyes were troubled.

"I'm going to go with the hunters in order for Seth to stay alive," I answered slowly and gravely. Sergeant and Nurse Hugo were both silently processing that.

"But it seems as if this is the push that we need," Mason added begrudgingly. "With Anna in the hands of the hunters, we'll have plenty of time and incentive to finally bring them down."

"How do you plan on finding their hideout?" Sergeant asked. Mason walked up to him and handed him the scrap of paper that held the address. "Is this the address for the base? Where did you get it?"

"Um, the individual that I contacted gave me the wrong address at first," I answered. I couldn't bring myself to call that man a person.

"Are you sure that it's the right address?" Mason nodded in response to Sergeant's question. "Wow! What are they; retarded?"

"You could say that the particular individual in question is," Mason's words were layered with a thick covering of ice; not even bothering to hide his hatred of his grandfather.

"Okay, so what can we do?" Nurse Hugo turned towards me. She had finished processing and knew that I had thought this through to the best of my ability; she wasn't too happy with my decision, but understood that I felt it was the right thing.

"I was really hoping that – after I let the hunters take me – you guys would organize an army," I said timidly, finally realizing how much I was honestly asking of them. "That way they can't use any information that they might get from their research against anyone."

"We can do that," Sergeant said with sudden vigor. "I'll call everyone into the division and start planning; maybe even get some of the other divisions to help. We need to get started if we're going to get you out of there as soon as we can." Tears sprang into my eyes as his sweet words moved me.

"Bethany's going to take her to meet the hunters at midnight," Simon pointed out. Sergeant nodded solemnly as he thought that over; he was now in planning mode.

"That's about five hours away," he commented after looking at his watch and seeing that it was only seven o'clock. His eyes hardened a little as the impending doom dawned on him. "We can do this; it will work!"

As he chanted that to himself under his breath, I realized how much pressure I was putting on the others. I was half-tempted to tell them to call the whole plan off, but I had a feeling that wouldn't go over too well. As we all loaded up and made our way towards the division for an emergency meeting, everything seemed to go by in slow motion to me.

Simon's hand held mine in a protective, comforting embrace as we rode in silence. Bethany decided to join Emma and Mason for the trek; probably so they could plan something. I couldn't help, but blame myself for this situation even though I couldn't find any tangible evidence that it was indeed my fault; my mind was making up reasons. I felt that I deserved punishment and I knew that there was a very likely chance that the hunters would give it to me.

33: Don't Say Goodbye

"Don't say goodbye,

Cause I don't wanna hear those words tonight,

Cause maybe it's not the end for you and I,

And although we knew,

This time would come for me and you,

Don't say anything tonight,

If you're gonna say goodbye," - Skillet

---

I could only half listen as Sergeant Hugo and some of the other higher-ups in the division argued over what the best tactics would be. I knew that I really should have been paying attention, but it was hard to when I knew that in less than an hour, I was going to be taken from the place that I had begun to call home. The past four hours, while productive as they were, passed by way too quickly and at the same time way to slow.

For those four hours, Sergeant had everyone working the phones and computers; stating our case to other divisions and gifted and begging them to help us. Most of them understood and were happy to join the revolution; some were not so, as was only to be expected. People from all over the world were going to be pouring in to Northanger Valley over the next few weeks.

As we worked, my mind continued to wander to my brother. I kept worrying about what he was thinking and what he was going through. He had to have been freaked; I mean it's not every day that one gets kidnapped by grey-haired men who claim to be 'purifying the world of evil'. Well, I guess lately that had been a trend among the gifted, but for normal people that doesn't happen often.

But his life was never going to be normal again; he might get to the point where he could laugh and joke, but in the back of his head he'd always know that things weren't right. He'd finally know that we weren't exactly mundane. He might never see Mason, Emma, Bethany, and Simon the same way as he used to; might see them as something other than the people that he went to school with, hung out with, and the family he fell in love with.

Because it was a family to him, in a weird, unconventional way; I had watched the relationships grow and had seen the way he felt about the group. Simon was his adopted brother of sorts; Mason his cousin. Emma and I were his sisters; he'd do anything for any of us. I think everyone knew what Bethany was to him; I just hoped that nothing that the hunter's told him or taught him would change the way he felt towards us. I hoped that all of us would survive to see the aftermath of this, but I had to push those thoughts away before I broke down in front of everyone.

I wondered if the others were having similar thoughts as my eyes wandered to them. Mason seemed preoccupied by Sergeant and the others' words, but on occasion his grey eyes would flicker exasperatedly towards his left, where Emma sat, but that was only when the subject of our English friends came up. Emma was relatively calm, for her; she listened quietly as Sergeant and the other men conversed. When the conversation would mention the division in England, her eyes would light up and she would have to hold in a squeal; actions that did not go unnoticed by the boy to her right.

Bethany seemed like her usual calm self, but I noticed that she was a little antsy; her leg bounced up and down nervously and she kept checking her phone for the time. Her blue eyes showed how torn she was; on one hand, she didn't want the hunter's to take me, but on the other hand, she really wanted Seth to come back home. I sighed before my eyes met with a pair of electric green ones.

I could tell by the fact that Simon's eyes had also been wandering around the room, that he was having trouble paying attention as well. I wondered how he was going to survive all the intense training and war-talk over the next month or two. Then, the thought of time hit me; it could've been two, three, four months or even up to a year before they were able to infiltrate the hunter's base. That thought scared me.

I tried to pull off one of those polite, albeit fake, smiles that one awkwardly gives when they've been caught looking at someone else, before Simon would notice where my dark thoughts were going. I could tell that it was all for not, though, as his eyes darkened and his own smile unknowingly mimicked mine. His eyes glanced toward his father quickly and seemed to take notice of the fact that he was quite engrossed in his work.

Simon stood up from his seat quietly as his eyes called out to me. I followed his suit and stood up carefully, not wanting to attract any attention. Bethany, Emma, and Mason watched us as we walked past them; walked towards our exit. We smiled at them as we passed; tried to quench their worries.

We walked through the seemingly long hallway in silence. The journey seemed a lot longer than it really was as I started to feel like the walls were closing in around me; the panic finally setting. The thoughts that I couldn't completely delve into before, due to distractions and vehemently pushing them away, came at me in full force. What if my brother hates us? What if some of us don't come back? What if I lose everything I've ever loved?

My muscles felt sore from being so tense all the time; my stomach churned from the stress. My breathing became quick and shallow as I felt like something was sitting on top of my chest; keeping me from getting any air. I tried to push away the bad thoughts that were residing in my brain, but the damage had already been done; I had already reached freak-out mode.

Simon's pace quickened as if he could feel the change in the atmosphere; his warm hand found my cold, clammy one. I found that the closer we got to the doors, the more I needed to get out. The claustrophobic feeling lessened once my hand was in the safety of Simon's, but it couldn't completely take away the suffocation. It wasn't until the doors were opened and I was out in the chilly October air that I felt as if I could breathe again.

Once outside, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness; the moon not being visible enough to illuminate the place. The stars momentarily distracted me, but could not comfort me as I looked up towards heaven. I prayed, but I wondered if I had any right to ask God to hear me; it wasn't as if I had done anything to deserve it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My eyes stung from the tears that I wasn't about to let fall.

"Don't be," he said calmly. He sat down on a patch of grass that had grown between the armory and the sidewalk and motioned for me to join him. As I sat, I looked into Simon's eyes; the agony and fear that he was hiding were all kept in his eyes. "You're going through a lot, right now."

"You are, too," I sighed. "Everyone is going through a lot. There's just so much pain. I feel bad for the aura readers who are going through it and then having to feel it from everyone else."

"Don't worry about it, too much," he spoke the words that seemed to have become his catchphrase as of late. He gave me a calming smile as he pushed some stray strands of hair behind my ear and his hand lingered on my cheek.

"That's easy for you to say," I murmured, slightly distracted by his warm hand and my quickening heartbeat. "But it's not so easy to do."

"I know; I'm sorry," he smiled sadly as he caressed my cheek absentmindedly. "I just hate seeing you so upset." His eyes got this faraway look in them and I figured that the thought of this possibly being the last time that we would have to spend together was weighing heavy on his mind.

There wasn't much of a thought process that went through my brain except for one thought; I hate it when he's sad. The next thing I knew, my arms were around his neck and my head on his shoulder in my own weird way of hugging him. I realized with a start that this was similar to the time in the school's nurse's office; well, minus the whole just waking up from a horrible nightmare and still trying to keep a gigantic secret from him thing.

Another difference was that he wasn't as hesitant to wrap his arms around me in response, this time. He held me there for a moment before he readjusted me into a more comfortable position; holding me tight as I sat in his lap with my head on his shoulder. I think that a small part of this positioning was so I couldn't see everything he wasn't telling me in his eyes, but I wasn't about to complain.

"Thank you," he said after a moment; his voice giving away some of the pain that he had been trying to hide. I stifled a humorless laugh; he shouldn't have been thanking me.

"No," I paused for a moment. "Thank you!" He moved around a bit so that we could look into each other's eyes; his electric green ones staring at me perplexedly. "You have been nothing, but nice to me; even in the beginning, when you were unsure of me." I didn't elaborate; knowing that he knew full well that I meant when he was still avoiding the gift. "You have helped me out several times and not just because of some unspoken 'bro code', where you take care of your best friend's little sister, because it's your duty or whatever; you really care. You've become so close to me that I consider you one of my best friends. So, thank you; for everything."

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and a smile graced his lips. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but all he could manage was to shake his head and smile; something that he did quite often when I did something that seemed to surprise him. I was left to wonder what exactly had I done to provoke that reaction out of him when I saw a familiar look in his eye; determination with slight uncertainty.

Then, he kissed me. At first, my body was frozen in shock and it took a moment for me to kiss him back as my mind slowly grasped what was happening. When the realization finally hit, I thought that my heart was going to come right out of my chest from beating so hard.

I hadn't known how much I had actually wanted this until he kissed me. I mean, I knew that I was starting to like him, but I had pushed away those feelings as they surfaced because I thought that it was impossible that he would feel the same. As he pulled me close, though, I found that it was pointless to ignore them.

We pulled apart after a moment; both of us in need of air. His electric green eyes stared into mine timidly, as if to check to see if he had crossed any lines. After seeing the small smile and the blush that had painted my cheekbones, the fear was gone and replaced with excitement and joy. A blush spread out across his own face.

"I'm sorry if that was bit rash," he chuckled with a mixture of both nervousness and bliss. "I just couldn't let you leave without at least giving you some indication of how I felt. I probably could've found a slightly smoother way to do it, though. Are you- Do you . . . ?"

I couldn't help, but smile as he struggled; the part he feared not totally over quite yet. In one bold move, I kissed him; hoping that he'd grasp what I meant. Then, I smiled at him and added, "I feel the same."

I caught only a glimpse of the grin the broke out across his face as he pulled me into a tight hug. "Thank goodness!" I could barely hear him whisper into my hair. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips; the evanescent euphoria that came from the sudden revelations and being safe in his arms left me a bit light headed.

"Anna? Simon?" Bethany's voice called out in the distance; bringing reality back with it. With a sigh, we separated ourselves from one another and gave each other a slightly embarrassed smile.

"We're over here," Simon called out rather calmly. I could hear Bethany's footsteps as she neared where we sat. When she reached us, I took one look at her face and was reminded of the impending doom that was to come upon us.

"It's almost time to go," Bethany informed me. "Everyone wants to say goodbye before you go." Simon and I stood to our feet and nodded before the three of us walked back into building silently.

The pleasure that I had felt outside faded as we walked through the bright hallways. Simon's grip on my hand was a nice reminder, though, and kept my thoughts from wandering down dark paths. I tried to keep my mind blank as we walked into the room where I was to say my farewells to my friends for possibly the last time.

The first person to attack me was Gabriella Bond; her emerald eyes were watery as she wrapped her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug. She and I had become close after the knife incident and through training; I was going to miss the spunky teenager. Her brother, Gabriel, gave me a slightly gentler hug. Both of told me to not let anything the hunters did get to me and that they'd be waiting for me to come home.

I lost count of how many hugs and handshakes that were given to me that night. I remember Sergeant Hugo giving me a slightly awkward one-armed hug as his wife, Nurse Hugo, quickly pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. With tear filled blue eyes, she said, "There's something I need to tell you before you go."

"What is it?" I asked, wondering what the kind hearted woman had to say. She looked around us to make sure that a certain person of interest wasn't around. When she was satisfied that it was just she, her husband, and I, she turned back to me.

"I want to thank you," she said quietly, still afraid that someone was in hearing distance. "For bringing our son back to us. He had kind of started to shut us out and then you came and brought him back into the gifted world. So, thank you."

"Oh, but I didn't do anything," I protested. "He came back all on his own." The gentle nurse shook her head and smiled at me.

"You still played a major part in it," she said as she gave me one last hug. Before I could start to protest again, I was pulled away by a very forceful and familiar hand.

"I know you have to make a good impression on the boyfriend's parents and all, but save that for after you've saved everyone. Your friends want a little time with you before you have to go," Mason complained as he made an abrupt stop halfway before we could get to where Emma, Bethany, and Simon stood in wait.

"I wasn't –" I started to argue when he turned around and gave me a knowing smirk; mischief dancing in his grey eyes. "But you already know all that."

"Yeah, I know," he smirked. I could tell that he was having problems keeping up a joyful countenance; as much as he didn't want me to surrender, he also didn't want me to feel totally miserable about it. "Oh, and don't worry about your boyfriend messing around on you while you're gone; I'll keep an eye on him." He winked at me.

"Are you . . . okay with us?" I asked, recalling how the two still weren't exactly the best of friends. For some reason, asking him this made me think about Seth; I wondered how he would handle this if it wasn't for his current circumstances.

"Yeah," he said after a moment of contemplation. "I'm cool with it. I mean, I think that you could totally do better, but he seems a good enough guy. Of course, if he does anything that hurts you, I will kill him and not feel the least bit guilty at the enjoyment I'll get out of it."

"Fair enough," I grinned, letting the relief flood through me. I valued his opinion and was glad that that it wouldn't become totally awkward between us when I got back. "But instead of keeping an eye on him while I'm gone, maybe you should look after Emma."

"What do you mean?" he tried to act as if he had no earthly clue as to what I was implying, but I saw the hint of a blush that warmed his face. I raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a little smirk of my own. His blush grew and he looked away for a moment. "Fine," he said, looking back a pulling me into a hug. "While I do that, you need to take care of yourself."

"I will," I whispered as I hugged him back. "I promise." Then, we started walking towards our friends again. Emma quickly hobbled over and crushed me in a hug.

"If any of those evil people are especially mean to you or overall evil, you just point them out and I'll take them down," Emma said passionately; her eyes flashing. I gave her a small smile and glanced down at her broken leg silently.

"You won't be taking anyone down with that leg of yours," Mason pointed out before she could get too carried away. She gave him a glare, but then sighed; he was going to win this battle tonight, but something told me that it wasn't completely over yet.

"Be careful; okay?" she said turning back to me with a small comforting smile. "And remember that, when all else fails, kick butt!"

"I'll remember that," I chuckled. "Take care of yourself; when I come back, I want to see you walking around with ease." She grinned and nodded in agreement. Then, I turned to Simon and was engulfed in another hug.

"I'm going to miss you," he murmured into my hair. The tears that I had been fighting back as I said goodbye to all my friends threatened to escape as I was mostly hidden in Simon's embrace.

"I'm going to miss you," I spoke quietly for fear that my voice would break. As we parted, I had a sudden thought. "Oh, I want you to take care of these," I handed him my cell-phone and started to take off the jacket that he had given me.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. I gave him a smile as I handed to him; he took it hesitantly.

"I need you to take care of it so I can wear it when I get back," I shrugged. I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me once I was inside the hunters grasp and I really liked the jacket; I didn't want to have to throw it away because of a tear or something – vain, I know, but that jacket really did mean a lot to me. Simon chuckled a bit before giving me another hug.

Then, Bethany and I were off to parts unknown. As we went out the door, I took one look back at the people that I'd grown so fond of. I was going to see all these people again, I told myself. They were an amazing bunch of people; they were going to come out of this better and stronger than before. I told myself all this as Bethany and I rode off into the dark night, but I still couldn't fight away the dark thoughts that were slowly creeping into my mind.

Bethany pulled into the vacant parking lot and we just sat there in silence; the car's headlights adding a fitting spookiness to the empty playground area. This is it, I thought to myself, as she turned off the car and pulled the keys out of the ignition; I'm really going to do this. A quiet sob broke the silence and caused me to turn to my companion, who was now holding her head in her hands and crying.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling her head out of her hands and shaking it, as if she could just shake off all the pain. I put a hand on her shoulder and started to try and comfort her. "This isn't right," she exclaimed through sobs. "You shouldn't have to leave!"

"I know," I whispered as I pulled her into a hug and she cried into my shoulder. I ran my fingers through her hair as she continued to let out everything that she had been holding in all night. "I know."

"I'm sorry," she said as she slowly sat back up. She took a deep breath and gave me a slightly painful smile. "You don't deserve this; I'm going to be strong from now on."

"It's okay, you've been the strong one all night," I reminded her. "Sometimes it okay to let your feelings out; sometimes it's necessary."

"Thanks," she smiled. Then, a worried look came across her face. "I'm sorry if I interrupted you and Simon, earlier. I just didn't know how much time we were going to have left after everyone said goodbye and -"

"It's okay," I laughed. "Don't worry about it; I think we got everything we needed to say out before you came to get us." I blushed again, recalling what had happened.

"Thank goodness," she breathed a sigh of relief. Then, the two of us decided to get out of the car and walk into the park. "I'm glad you guys have finally come together!" she said as we sat down in the abandoned looking swings. I caught a glimpse of joy on her face before it turned into a wistful look.

"Maybe when things have settled, you could try to make it work for yourself," I said carefully; not wanted to offend her. She looked away; a blush forming.

"What if he doesn't want anything to do with us?" she asked sorrowfully; lightly swaying back and forth in her swing. I had been having similar thoughts all night, but I wasn't about to let her go around thinking like that.

"Seth isn't that type of person," I said with more assurance than I felt. "It might be a little awkward for a little while, but it's nothing that time can't heal."

"You're right," she said confidently; I wasn't sure if she was saying that because she really believed it or if she wanted to believe it so desperately. Then, we fell into a comfortable silence again.

I kicked my feet and swung carefully; going back and forth as I kept an eye on the entrance to the park. I stopped as a dark van pulled into the parking lot where Bethany's car sat; my heart stopped with me. All I could see were silhouettes in the distance, as two men jumped out of the van's cab and walked around to the back.

One man freely jumped out of the back after the first two had opened the doors; from the way he walked and stood, I guess that he was a little older in age. Then, he turned to look into the van and stood there; he seemed to be talking to whomever was inside, but I couldn't hear anything from where I sat. Then, the last silhouette appeared from the back with his hands that seemed to be tied in front of him and he seemed reluctant to walk; my heart jumped into my throat.

Seth.

34: Painful Return

"Through the looking glass, we see she's painfully returned.

Now off with her head, I fear, is everyone's concern," – Shinedown

---

Bethany and I both stood and gave each other a quick, nervous glance. This was it; Seth would get to come home. I kept Seth's homecoming on my mind, but as the men started to come closer, I couldn't help it as I tensed up. I still couldn't wait until Seth was with Bethany and out of the hunters' hands; I didn't trust them at all.

As they neared, I could see their features a bit better. The two men that had jumped out of the cab looked rather familiar; they wore the same belts of weapons that they had in my nightmares. Their eyes were cold as they held their chins high; their hands having a tight grip on Seth as they led him towards us.

Seth's green eyes were filled with a hatred that I didn't know he was capable of as he struggled against his captors. He glared at the men who held his shackled hands, but it completely escaped the hunters notice. On occasion, his glare would turn on the old man that was walking leisurely in the front.

I noticed – with a sort of wicked satisfaction – that life had not been entirely kind to the old Mr. Anderson. His back was arched and he walked with a slight limp, but that didn't stop him from making the quick jaunt across the park. His face was pale and wrinkled from years of stressing over the 'demons' that tainted his world. But his eyes were bright as they met mine; the cat had finally caught one of the mice.

I quickly looked away from the grey eyes that caused me so much pain and looked back to my brother. He was now staring back at me; the hatred in his eyes gone and replaced with a mixture of surprise and fear. I couldn't tell if he was afraid because of the circumstances we were in or if he was afraid of us; I was really hoping that it was only the former.

"Lizzy," the old man said cheerfully as they stopped walking, as if this was some happy reunion between two old friends. His voice was even creepier in person. "It's been far too long."

"Funny," I said as I looked away from my brother, whose eyes were now glaring a hole in the back of the old man's head. "I was thinking the complete opposite."

"Oh, darling," the old man sighed, exasperated. He gave me a disturbing and crinkly grin that I think was meant to be endearing; I had to fight back a shudder. "I really wish you wouldn't be so cold."

"I might warm up a little once my brother's been set free," I growled. The disturbing grin faltered just a bit as the words came out of my mouth.

"Ah, yes," he said as if he forgot all about the teenage boy he held captive. He turned towards his henchmen and seemed reluctant as he spoke again. "Let the Valentine boy go. Unlock the shackles around his wrists."

The men started to do as their boss ordered and I slowly inched towards the hunters; my instincts screaming at me to turn around and run, but I fully intended on living up to my end of the bargain. I gave Bethany's hand one last squeeze before I went to stand in front of the old man. Seth, now free, stood between the two men and looked at me in confusion; it was clear that he didn't know what was going on.

"Seth," Bethany called out; hoping to distract him before he thought of doing something stupid. "Come with me; let's go home." He didn't hesitate to walk towards her, but once there he turned back to face me.

"Anna," his voice was tainted with pain; it was such a small change, though, that only Bethany and I would notice it. I had to take a deep breath; part of me happy that he didn't hate me, part of me sad that this was so painful for him.

"I need you to take care of everyone for me," I forced a smile. The realization hit him and with it came surprise; he started to move towards us, but Bethany quickly clutched his arm and stopped him.

Her eyes were shimmering with tears that threatened to spill as she whispered something to him. The surprise in Seth's eyes soon faded, this time being replaced with sorrow. Bethany turned back to me and gave me a curt nod. I nodded back; taking one last look at Bethany and Seth, before turning to the henchmen and holding my hands out in front of me.

"There's no need for that," the old man took my wrist and started to direct me. I could have sworn that my skin froze under his grip. I would have preferred the shackles. "I think that you know the consequences of running, by now. Even if you did try to, we'd find you again."

"I promised that I would do as you said, didn't I?" I reminded him sharply; I didn't really care if he trusted me or not, but I didn't want him to do anything rash to my friends because he was unsure.

"Yes; yes, you did," he nodded as we made our way to the back of the van. "But, my dear, I've spent most of my life in this business. I've learned not to always trust everything someone tells me."

"I'm usually an honest person," I said without much thought. What I said was true, though; I usually was. Of course, certain situations had made me twist the truth a bit as of late, but that was un-usual – in my defense.

"I'm sure you are normally," the old man agreed. "But I bet that if the safety of the people you love – or people you thought were innocent – was being threatened, you'd probably learn to become a liar with quickness. You'd probably be really good at it too; you have great potential." The old man gave me another creepy grin as I jumped into the back of the van and took a seat on the floor.

I clenched my fists in anger; I didn't want to be told that I had the potential to become a great liar. He acted as if I was going to be a great asset to him someday; as if I was going to work with him. Did he expect me to help him suck the gift away from all my friends after he 'healed' me? Did he expect me to enjoy this new life he was forcing on me?

I looked over at the old man that had just sat down across from me. He looked at ease, as if he didn't just hold a teenage boy hostage and then trade him for another human. He actually had to audacity to simply pull a package of some sort of circular, sugary gummy-snack out of a bag that sat next to him and start chomping down on them.

"Oh," he noticed me staring at him and looked slightly apologetic. "Did you want one?" I shook my head vehemently; he seemed to take that as dislike towards his sugary snack. "I thought the same when I first saw them, but all it took was a little taste. Then, I think I became slightly addicted to them." He stared at the snack that he held in his hand with a strange look in his eye. It was then that the realization hit me; he was crazy. I was stuck in the back of a van with a crazy person. "Are you sure you don't want to try one?"

"No, thank you," I shook my head vehemently once again; this time attempting to hide my fear. He shrugged and went back to chewing his snacks.

"Suit yourself, then," he muttered with his mouth full. I had to look away from him and fastened my eyes upon the dirty floor as my mind started to spin.

I had made a deal with an insane-o; this was worse than selling my soul to a pirate ghost. When I made a deal with Alex, at least a small part of me knew that I would be doing some good in that. In this case, the only good I could think up was buying time; anything else that I 'helped' with, in this case, could be hazardous.

I looked around the back of the van for an escape; not so I could flee, but so my mind would have a distraction. There were no windows, no random boxes that I could spend hours trying to guess what was inside, and no music that I could focus on. There was only a crazy old man munching on sugary snacks; not the kind of distraction I wanted.

"Don't worry about what kind of provisions you'll have at the base," the old man spoke again and dashed my hope of a silent ride. "You'll have a variety of food choices and they are quite delicious, if I may say so. And you'll have your own room with a bed and bathroom and a television. You'll have schoolwork to do in the privacy of your own room. Then, we'll let you out for an hour or so in the morning, for research and testing. You'll also be let out for an hour in the afternoon, but that's so you can socialize with the other people from the 'Gifted Program'."

"There are others at your base?" I asked, despite the vow that I made to remain quiet. This thought thrilled and scared me; would the others be for or against the hunters' plans? If they were to fight, who would they side with; the hunters or their own kind?

"Yes, there are many others," the old man answered slowly, completely unaware of the thoughts that were running through my mind. "They're like you; at first reluctant to join, but eventually warming up to us and agreeing to help." My hopes plummeted. "I think it was probably the yummy food that made them change their minds; good food always brightens one's mood towards something." Okay, eat as little of the food as possible while being held captive, I told myself.

"Have the others been helpful with the research? Have you made a lot of progress?" I asked awkwardly as I tried to find the right way to word what I wanted to know. I don't know why I started asking questions, but I figured that if he was going to talk, I might as well learn something of interest.

"Well . . . no," the old man said in an irritatingly slow manner. "You see, we need to see how well the old cleansing-machine worked before we can perfect the new one. Of course, we've fixed the part that wiped out your memories, but we need to know if it triggered anything else in your brain; gave you any new unnatural abilities when your original ones came back. Then, we need to find a way to make the changes permanent."

"Does it still only work on small children?" I asked while I ignored the fact that he knew my gift had resurfaced. I was hoping that they hadn't updated that part; that could give the division more time to plan.

"Oh, no," his pride came through in his voice. He was happy with that progression; it meant that his plan could go a lot smoother. "The cleansing-machine will work for all ages! Our researchers have mostly perfected it, but we have to see how the brain reacts to certain experiences. That's where you and the others come in."

"Have any of the experiments brought on bad side-effects?" I asked, even though I knew that the answer wouldn't matter for me; I had all but made a blood contract with this loon.

"Not too bad; no," came the half-hearted answer. "On occasion, there is a short loss of memory, but it comes back in a couple of hours. One time, there was a girl that kept having seizures, but that was due to an enlarged vein in her head that she was born with. We had at first attributed it to her ability, but after researching tons of medical reports and whatnot, we found that it was perfectly normal. Well, not normal exactly, but it happened with humans as well as the cursed."

"Do you think it was the experiment that triggered the seizures?" I ignored the slight on my kind; not wanting to start an unneeded quarrel.

"No," the old man was convinced in this. "Those types of seizures are usually caused by stress. Her boyfriend had just refused to help us when the first one occurred; she was probably stressed due to his disloyalty."

I was starting to get the feeling that anyone who didn't agree with the old man's way of thinking was considered wrong and disloyal. I was also getting the inclination that he didn't have a real strong grasp on reality. It made me wonder what the real story was inside the base's walls. I was only getting information from a crazy old man who may or may not really know what goes on within his own operations.

I was slightly surprised when the van was pulled to an abrupt stop, causing both of us to slide towards the front of the van and hit a wall. I shook my head and attempted to shake off the pain that shot up my spine. I looked over at the old man, who wore a grimace on his face, and was reminded of just how strenuous his life had been on him, but I still couldn't find it in my heart to pity him.

The door to the van opened up and let in a bright artificial light that nearly blinded me. I hadn't given much thought to the darkness that had engulfed me in the back of the van; my eyes had grown accustomed to it rather quickly. After I blinked a few times and my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw the two henchmen pulling me out of the van and into a loading dock.

As they helped Mr. Anderson out of the van, I looked around the dock. I took in the broken windows and the weeds growing through cracks in the floor and the walls. This place was more run down than I remembered the base in Lynn being; I couldn't see a single piece of machinery anywhere. I wondered where all the people where and then I began to wonder if maybe the old man had fabricated the whole thing; there were no others.

Or maybe there were others; maybe the research was done and the dreaded machine was already perfected. Maybe he hadn't accidentally given me the address to this place; maybe he knew I would give it to someone; maybe he wanted me to. I feared that this wasn't really the base, but instead a false lead meant to lure Mason.

They were going to hold me hostage here, I was convinced. They were going to use me to force information out of Mason and finally wipe the entire gifted population off the earth. All the training and all the worry; it would only be done in vain. I kept my face blank as these thoughts terrified me. The men around me didn't reassure me any as they didn't give me any clue as to what was going on.

I watched as one of the henchmen walked around to the front of the van and got in; after Mr. Anderson was out and complaining to the other henchmen about sudden stops. He started the van and drove off, leaving the three of us alone – in theory. I took another look around the empty factory and was surprised by what I saw sitting on a ledge in front of one of the broken windows. Alex was just sitting there and surveying the place with a look of intense concentration on his face.

"Come on, girly," the old man finally spoke to me; turning my attention away from the ghost in the window. "Let's hurry up and get you settled in. Church services start at nine in the morning and I don't know about you, but I'd like to get a little sleep before then."

The old man and the henchman started walking and pulled me along with them. They stopped once they reached the middle of the floor and the henchman stooped down to examine the floor. His hand tugged at something and eventually opened up an entryway hidden within the cracked concrete floor. Peeking down into the entryway, I could see stairs winding down into the unknown.

"Bet you weren't expecting that," the old man grinned proudly before making his way down into the secret hole. On his way down, he mumbled something like, "Sorry, but age before beauty." I just ignored him and reluctantly followed; the henchman breathing down my neck. As we walked down the dimly lit staircase, I couldn't stop myself from hoping that there wasn't going to be anymore surprises.

35: Taking My Life Away

"I'm so sick of waiting, as of right now I'm taking

My life back;

I want my life back.

I'm so sick of waiting while the enemy's taking

My life away,"

– Forth Angel

---

I sat on top of the grey sheets that hugged the mediocrely comfortable bed and stared at the wooden headboard in which the name "Lizzie" was spelled upon. In my right hand, I held a pencil that I was dying to try and blot out the letters with. With a sigh, I turned away from the headboard that had been haunting me since my arrival and decided to not risk breaking the pencil.

I observed the room in an attempt to get a firm grasp on reality; something that had become my daily ritual. I looked over at the second bed that was nearly identical to the one that I sat upon, but with the name "Mason" engraved in the headboard. Ever since I entered this room and saw the beds, I was met with this strange feeling; as if I had just been adopted by a couple only to find out that they had been expecting twins. Turning completely around so that I was no longer facing either headboard, I looked towards the wall opposite them.

The wall was lined with two desks and between them was the door to the outside. The outside, I had found, was rather large considering it was all underground. The outside held a dinner/rec room, a couple research rooms, a Sunday Morning Worship room, and countless rooms such as the one I was residing in. I was only brought outside between the hours of ten in the morning to noon and again between seven in the evening to nine; the first time for research and the second for socialization and dinner.

I wasn't really sure which one scared me more, at first; the hunters researching my brain or the gifted trying to get a feel for where my loyalties lay. The research hadn't been that excruciating, but apparently they started me with the "easy" levels of the research. They were going to see how my brain reacted to the small stuff before they went into the big stuff – whatever that may be. I tried not to dwell on that too much as they hooked my brain up to a machine and injected syringes filled with unknown substances into my body; I resolved to remain ignorant.

I had found that many of those in the "Gifted Program" also held on to the belief that ignorance was bliss when it came to dealing with the hunters' research. Other people might have argued that it was unsafe to follow the hunters so blindly, but for those of us that were forced into it, it was the only way we could survive and keep our sanity intact. All of us were wary of the long-term effects of their experiments, but there wasn't anything we could do about it; we simply pushed those thoughts away.

There weren't very many of us in the "Gifted Program"; only eight. The hunters separated us by our types of gifts; two fortune tellers, two mind readers, two aura readers, and two shadow-kissed. They couldn't get their hands on a know-it-all; a fact that I found comfort in.

We separated ourselves by whose side we were on; if we were fighting for the gifted or the hunters. I was saddened by the few that chose to help the hunters eagerly, but I could see their reasoning behind it – sort of. They didn't want their gifts any longer; they were tired of being different and strange. It made me wonder what side Simon would have joined had he been here a couple months ago and also made me thankful that he never was.

My side was chosen for me in a way; not that I would have chosen any differently, of course. The first night that I had been led outside for dinner, I was met by two groups; both nervously awaiting my arrival. Only two people were truly staring at me intently, but that still didn't comfort me any as they seemed to be looking into my very soul.

One of the people staring at me with such intensity was a young woman; she might have been twenty – if that. She had her sandy-brown hair cut short and I remember worrying that I would have to do the same before I looked around at the other females and took in their varying hair lengths with relief. On her face, she held a look of annoyance, as if I wasn't giving her the information she wanted.

The other person was a young male who looked to be around the same age as me. He had emerald eyes that reminded me of Seth; the way they looked me over and tried to figure me out. Thinking about Seth caused my heart to ache; the boy that I had once viewed as a sort of distant cousin had quickly become my brother and one of my best friends. I hated not having the ability to just walk down the hall if I wanted to talk to him; I had to push away the fear of never being able to again.

"Hello, Anna. I'm Jayce," a man's voice somehow entered my head. I stared back into the emerald eyes and attempted to mask my surprise. He smirked. "I know what you're thinking." He was a mind reader and somehow had projected his thoughts into my head. "Yep."

A million thoughts ran through my mind as I tried as hard as I might to stop them. He watched me silently as I made an effort not to think of a certain subject. I attempted to busy my mind with musings of how I heard his voice when he hadn't spoken.

"It's a side effect of the hunters' failure," he answered one of my thoughts; slightly amused. "It's a lot like your strange dreams." I had entertained the thought, but that would have to mean that he had been subjected to the brain-washing machine and I didn't think that it was ready yet. "I think that I was around twelve years old at the time and I would love to tell you all about it, but let's sit down first instead of standing here awkwardly."

As I sat down with his group and picked at the food that I had been provided with, he explained to me how he had been through a similar situation as I had. He, too, had been kidnapped and brain-washed by the hunters; they held him for a couple years before his parents could find him. Years passed and he was back again, but now his parents wouldn't be able to break him out; the hunters made sure of that.

Jayce's family had been one of the many that had fallen victim to the hunters' purification. He was the last known survivor; kept only for research purposes. Somehow in the midst of our conversation, it came out that I had actually watched the raid on his family via one of my nightmares.

This knowledge gave me reassurance that our division in Northanger Valley was making the right choice in standing up. Even if we only succeed in making a statement, maybe that would make the hunters think twice about striking us. These thoughts entered my head before I could even stop them and Jayce was ecstatic; he wanted to know more about our rebellion and would do anything he could to help.

Five of us that were in the gifted program were in Jayce's group. There was a woman who could see visions of the future; her name was Sierra. Her husband, Brett, was an aura reader and their seven year-old son Benjamin was shadow kissed; they were going through this hell together and were also eager for the hunters to fall.

In the other group, the leader was Heather. She was the young woman who had stared at me so intently upon my arrival. She had the ability to read minds, but I was fine as long as I didn't look directly into her eyes. Her boyfriend, Dustin, was a fortune teller and his best friend Michael was an aura reader. The three of them glared in our direction every time we'd make any sudden movements.

We never really spoke with our mouths; Jayce would share any thoughts that he believed were important with everyone via his strange ability. He didn't even have to worry about the condition that normally comes with his gift; he could read our minds without looking into our eyes or touching our skin. I tried not to let that bother me too much when I was around him.

With a sigh, I had to pull my thoughts away from the outside and back to the huge stack of books that sat untouched on the desk. Old Mr. Anderson was very strict about his prisoners' education; I think that I had already surpassed the curriculum of my high school within only a month of being there. I could've refused to do the work, but it kept me from being behind when I went back home and gave my mind an escape.

There was one subject that I had been given that I absolutely refused to do; Cognitive Science. And I didn't hate it simply because it was a form of science; I hated it because the text book had narrow-mindedly told me everything that my brain shouldn't have been able to do. I left the book untouched as I worked on the other five subjects; I used Cognitive Science's notebook as a sketchpad.

I worked until the door opened and a henchman came to get me at ten. I only stopped once to cautiously eat a biscuit and a couple bathroom breaks, yet somehow time had escaped me. I hesitantly stood up and followed the man to one of the research rooms. We were met by the Clipboard Lady; the woman from my memories and nightmares.

Her reddish-brown hair was done up in a messy bun and her eyes had shown hints of her exhaustion. Her face was uncharacteristically wrinkled for a woman her age; it was only another reminder of how rough the hunter lifestyle was. Why they would deliberately put themselves through it, I'd never know. In her hands, she held her trusted clipboard.

"Take a seat, Miss Taylor," she ordered and I did as she said; sitting down on the uncomfortable plastic chair and lining my arms up with the armrest. A man and a woman, both in white coats, came and strapped my arms to the chair tightly and hooking my head up to a machine.

"S-she's secured, Miss Norberton," the nervous man in the white coat turned to Clipboard Lady. She nodded, not looking up from her clipboard, much to the man's dissatisfaction.

"Insert the blue syringe into her left arm," the woman rushed to do as Clipboard Lady ordered. I faded out of consciousness as the needle entered my skin.

---

I woke up, spread out across the bed; this was not an uncommon occurrence, but it still never ceased to leave me feeling violated and helpless. With a sigh, I opened my eyes to stare at the white ceiling and then closed them again to picture Northanger Valley's night sky. I could imagine the metallic chill of Simon's car on my back, seeping through my clothes.

Then, I could hear Simon's voice telling stories about his childhood. I could feel a laugh bubble up and escape my lips as he shared an amusing memory of his sister; my lips formed into a forgotten smile. I turned to look into his electric green eyes. I opened my eyes only to find that I was staring into emerald eyes and not the electric green eyes I was longing for.

"Welcome back to reality," Jayce smiled at me sadly from the bed beside me. He knew that being anywhere – even in the depths of the long lost past – was better than being here. I nodded and slowly attempted to sit up; my entire body was sore and trembled slightly. Once upright, I looked around the room to find that we were alone. That was weird; there was always at least one or two henchmen keeping watch during Jayce's random visits.

"How long was I out?" I asked aloud even though I knew he could read my thoughts. I could feel his eyes on me as if he was waiting for something.

"Only a day," I turned to look at him in surprise as he had spoken aloud as well. He smirked, having gotten the reaction he wanted. Then, his smirk faded and his eyes fell to where my left hand sat trembling on top of the white sheet. "Heather had another attack."

My breath caught in my throat and a tear ran down my face. Heather's seizures seemed to be getting worse in the past few weeks; they occurred more frequently. We all wondered if the strange substances that the hunters injected into her were interfering with her seizure medication.

Every time she had another attack, my longing for Sergeant Hugo and the others to come storming in grew. We knew that this environment wasn't going to help her situation any and we were all eager to get her out of here, even if she hated us for it. Before I could explore too much into those dark thoughts, I became distracted by my left hand.

It shook violently and I had to secure it to the bed with my right hand. The spasms began to travel up my arm as I held it to the bed. As I pondered how much my arm would bruise from my death grip, Jayce was cursing the research's side effects under his breath. "When are your friends going to get here?"

When were they going to get here? How much longer were we going to have to put up with this? How much more could we survive? They'll be here, I told myself. They're hurrying as fast as they can.

As if sensing my doubt and fear of being abandoned, Alex appeared at the foot of the bed. My heart leapt with excitement as I took in his pirate garb and his electric green eyes. It was a comfort to see him and gave me the briefest illusion of normalcy. My grin faltered a bit, though, as he noticed me restraining my arm.

"Anna," he quickly glanced at Jayce cautiously before deciding that the boy seemed harmless and returning his eyes to my arms. Then, he unexpectedly blurted, "You look like hell!"

"You've been spending too much time with Simon," I sighed at his oddly modern term. He smiled apologetically.

"What is wrong with your arm?" he asked, seeing as I wasn't going to willing elaborate as to why I 'looked like hell'. It seemed that I took too long in trying to word my answer, "Why are you so pale?"

"It's because of the drugs that they've injected into her bloodstream," Jayce answered as he stared a hole through me, strengthening the connection of our minds. I glanced over to see that his eyes were glazed over; he was seeing and hearing Alex through my thoughts. "It's part of the side effects."

"The side effects of the drugs," Alex's eyes narrowed on my arm as he mulled that over in his brain – after he got over the initial surprise of having Jayce speak to him. "What other side effects are there?"

"Nothing serious," I answered quickly. I waved my right hand in the air without a thought and then had to use it to restrain my left again. "It goes away eventually." I made a feeble attempt to make it sound slightly better. Then, I was reminded of a much more serious matter, "There's a girl here, though, who's more affected by the side effects."

"She's been having seizures quite frequently," Jayce continued for me, seeing as I was having a hard time getting it out. "We don't think that this environment is good for her."

"There are more of you?" Alex asked. This was the first I had seen him since the night that I had arrived at the base, so he was quite lost as to what had been happening.

"Oh, yeah," I answered before doing the math of exactly how many of us were here in my head. "There are six others, not including Jayce and I. By the way, this is Jayce. Jayce, this is Alex."

"Is he shadow-kissed? How can he . . . ?" Alex began to ask how Jayce was communicating with him.

"He's a mind reader," I said with another wave of my right hand. This time, I was happy to find that my left hand had calmed down a bit; it only trembled slightly as it sat in my lap. "So, how are things back home?"

"Things are going well," Alex answered, looking away for a moment as if he thought of something that he didn't want to share.

"Is everyone doing okay?" I asked; my eyes narrowing as I began to worry about what he was hiding. He suddenly found the room very interesting. "Alex."

"We all miss you," he answered after another moment of avoidance. "And we are all really worried."

"There's no need to worry about me," I plastered a fake grin on my face. Electric green eyes flickered to my arm; emerald green eyes narrowed at my little white lie. "I'm fine."

"Promise me that you'll hold on a little bit longer," Alex sighed, completely disregarding what I had just said. "You will be fine soon." And with one last sorrowful look, he left.

"You're going to have to tell me what you're thinking," Jayce said after a few moments of silence. He collapsed on the bed he was sitting on and looked up at the ceiling. "That hurt my head, so I'm blocking you out for a few moments." He didn't sound too happy about that.

"You can block people out?" I avoided telling him what I was really thinking; I didn't want him to know that I was afraid of how long 'a little bit longer' was going to be.

"Yeah," he sighed, definitely not happy about it. "But I hate it, because people have a tendency to not say what they're thinking. They could be thinking something amazing, but might be too afraid to share it."

"Or they could be thinking something dark and not want to drag someone else down with them," I pointed out. I watched as he pondered that for a moment before smiling sadly.

"No," he shook his head lightly; his light-brown curly locks falling into his face. "Even those thoughts are worth hearing, even if only to have someone shine a little light on them."

"You're amazing," I sighed. I wondered how he could be so happy and so nice after everything he went through. If I lost my friends and family, would I be able to stay positive? I didn't want to think about that ever happening.

"Not really," he shrugged. "I'm just better at covering up the scars than most. In all honesty, I'm just saving up all my bad energy for getting my revenge." He gave me a sheepish grin and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips.

Everyone had their own reasons for the rebellion; revenge, justice, survival. Some of us were doing it to keep ourselves safe; others were in it to protect their loved ones. No matter what the reason, though, the hunters had made a lot of enemies; and they were all dying to take their lives back.

36: Until the End

"Why give up, why give in?

It's not enough, it never is.

So I will go on until the end.

We've become desolate.

It's not enough, it never is.

But I will go on until the end." - Breaking Benjamin

---

It felt like months had passed since Alex's last visit, but in reality it was only a few weeks. Time passed by too slowly as I waited for someone to come and save us, but it wasn't slow enough when it came to another appointment with the researchers. I sighed as I looked at my left arm; it was covered in strange burn marks and I tried to remember what had happened during the research to cause them, but then gave up. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to know that badly, anyways.

Turning away from my arm, I looked up at the white, boring ceiling. I let my brain wander back to the once sleepy town of Northanger Valley. I tried not to worry about my friends too much and instead tried to wrap myself in a security blanket of my memories. I would always try to remember everything that I could; I feared that one day I wouldn't be able to remember anything.

I was trying to recall what state Dad and I were in that had the giant rubber-band ball when my thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. I glanced at the clock to find that it was already seven in the evening before I jumped out of the bed and joined the henchman standing outside the door. I kept my mind empty as we walked through the hallways and made an attempt to enjoy the silence. As we entered the dinner/rec room, I could feel the tension that had been building up that past few days.

Everyone was beginning to reach their limits as time here lingered on; cabin fever was starting to spread. Brett and Sierra's quiet fights seemed to be happening more frequently. Several times recently, the group had witnessed Dustin snap at Michael; his girlfriend's condition taking its toll on him. Even the normally oblivious Benjamin was not being his carefree, seven year-old self.

I sat across from Jayce as I stared a hole through my tray of food. The familiar spaghetti, meatloaf, or macaroni-&-cheese had been replaced with mouthwatering steak, potatoes, and corn. I took the rare and expensive food as a bad omen.

"It does kind of feel like our last meal," Jayce commented on my thoughts as he had entertained similar ones. "They've made progress with the machine."

Joy, I thought to myself. The food in front of me looked dramatically less appealing as that sunk in. I picked up my fork and silently debated whether or not I should eat it. I knew that I had to eat to survive, but I somehow didn't want to give my captors the satisfaction of having me eat their celebratory meal.

"Eat," Jayce commanded. "When your boyfriend comes to break down your castle walls, I'd hate to be the one to tell him that you died of self-starvation." I teasingly glared at the boy across from me and took a small bite. It was yummy, I found with displeasure.

"I can't take this anymore!" A tray of food flew past Jayce's and my shoulder, before smashing into the wall. I turned to find Dustin standing and glaring in our direction; a very scared Michael cowered in his chair. Heather wasn't present; she must have been confined to her room again. "How much longer are you going to make us wait?"

He wasn't just glaring in our direction; he was glaring at me. My brain took a moment to process what he was saying. Before I could even dwell on it too much, Jayce jumped up and stood between Dustin and I. He seemed to be silently communicating with Dustin and I that gave me a little bit of comfort as I had a mini-panic attack.

Dustin had to have found out about our plan for the rebellion; that was the only conclusion that I could come to. He had to have seen it in a vision or something. At first, I was freaked out that he would tell the hunters and the plans would be ruined. Then, I started to think it through – he wanted to know how much longer it was going to be before they arrived. He didn't want to stop it; he wanted to speed the process up. He wanted his girlfriend out of here as soon as possible.

Touched tears burned my eyes as I watched the silent argument between Jayce and Dustin. A variety of emotions crossed Dustin's face as they stood – anger, shock, fear, and then sorrow. My heart went out to the poor guy as he walked away from his table dejectedly.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," He came to stand in front of us and apologized. "I hope you'll forgive me." I smiled sadly at the boy in front of me.

"Don't worry about it," I shook my head and waved it off. Surprise flittered across his face for a moment as I forgave him.

"I told you that she wasn't angry," Jayce sounded exasperated as he took a seat next to me, sliding his tray over to where he now sat. Dustin sat down in the seat that Jayce had sat in before. I gave a quick glance back to the lonely Michael before giving Jayce an upraised eyebrow. "He feels safer over there." He gave me a grin and resumed eating his food.

I looked at my tray of food and then at Dustin's tray that the Kitchen Henchmen (and henchwomen) were cleaning off the walls. Then, I pushed my tray towards Dustin. "Here, you can have what's left. I don't think I'll be able to finish it."

"I can't take your food," he protested. I thoroughly cleaned the plastic cutlery with my napkin and stuck it in the food.

"I'm not really hungry," I shrugged and pushed the tray closer to him. "And 'Waste Not, Want Not' or something, right?"

"Thanks," he said shyly before diving into the food. He stuffed the food in his mouth; apparently, throwing trays of food and getting irritated made him really hungry.

"Nice," I could feel Jayce glaring at me, but I simply smiled and avoided looking at him. Instead, I watched the henchmen cleaning up the mess. One of the door henchmen came and whispered something to the cleaning henchmen. This didn't worry me – until Jayce froze in his seat.

Brent pulled Sierra and Benjamin closer to his side as he stared at Jayce; the men silently communicating. Then, the doors burst open to reveal a disheveled and confused Heather. She rushed to Dustin's side and held onto him tightly. Her eyes wandered restlessly around the room; she was looking for an explanation. My own eyes wandered back to the front of the room, looking for the same thing. The henchmen were blocking the doors with extra tables and chairs.

Then, without a word, four henchmen walked up to our table. Two of them grabbed my arms; the other two grabbed Jayce's. The men dragged us through the back exit of the room. They took us deeper into the cave we had lived in for the last few months. What the heck is going on?

"Your friends are here," I had to work hard not to let the relief visibly flood through me. "The hunters are taking us to the second exit of this place – along with all their research. They aren't going to let us get away so easily, again."

I wasn't going to let that bother me. I'd kill myself before I'd let them run off with me again. I was just happy that the others would finally be free. I didn't fight as they pulled us out into another abandoned building. I was silent as they threw us onto the broken, concrete floor.

"You sit tight while we go find a way to bring the van around," one of the henchmen said as they tied up our hands and feet. They forcibly moved us to position our backs against the wall before they walked off and disappeared somewhere under the floor.

"If I asked you to kill me, would you do it?" I turned my head to find Jayce staring at the trap door that the henchmen had just used intently. I sighed at the seriousness of his request and actually thought it through. I wasn't even sure if I could kill someone I really hated – much less someone I felt was innocent.

He could reason with me – tell me that I would be saving him from the unnecessary torture of the hunters. But even then, I couldn't imagine taking his life. Images of his family lying dead flashed through my head – images that I weren't really sure were even mine.

It will be okay, I thought positively. We are so close to the end of this. They're going to fight the hunters and win. Your family will get their revenge, I promise. Everyone is going to be okay. I couldn't afford to think any differently.

Once we were alone and had a few moments to ourselves, the real fear began to set in. We didn't have the time to be thinking when they hauled us here, but waiting in the dark, broken building gave us plenty of time. My whole body began to shiver and, this time, I knew that it wasn't the effect of any sort of drug.

My positive thoughts wavered as time lingered on. I was relieved that the army of gifted was here, but I was also freaked out. What if the henchmen are too strong for the gifted? What if some of them don't make it out alive? What if we can never win?

Jayce was silent as the war between positive and negative thoughts waged in my head. I was hoping that he had blocked my thoughts, but something told me that he was just silently listening – afraid to speak because his thoughts were just as depressing as mine. As the minutes rolled by, I found myself praying that it would be over soon.

That's when I saw them. Two ethereal forms materialized above the trap door. One I was quite familiar with – the other I had only seen in my nightmares and through someone else's memory. Alex stood before us with a young girl who couldn't have been more than twelve; her name was Jayne.

Her ghostly face seemed to pale even more so as she caught a glimpse of the boy tied up next to me. She ran towards us and upon closer look, I could see the family resemblance between the two. Her eyes looked a lot like Jayce's as they stared at the ropes that wrapped around his wrists. His eyes, I noted, were currently vacant as he was experiencing this moment through my eyes.

"Old Mr. Anderson is on his way up here," Alex wasted no time as he came up and started to untie the ropes that restricted me.

"How is it going down there?" I asked. I kept my eyes on Jayne as we talked and she worked on Jayce's ropes; I wanted to give Jayce as much opportunity to see his sister as I could.

"It's going fine," He answered as he struggled to get my hands untied. "Don't worry about it too much. Worry about keeping yourself alive. He has two guns with him – a tranquilizer and a .45."

"Is everyone okay," He assured me that everyone was fine and managed to break through the ropes around my wrists. He started to work on the ones around my feet, but I waved him off. "In that corner, there's a bunch of research paper and I think the brain-washing machine itself. Can you destroy all that? I'll work on these."

He nodded and went to work. I heard the strangely satisfying sound of breaking electronics as I fumbled with the rope around my ankle. I hadn't gotten much progress when I heard Jayne cry out.

Turning to look at her, I saw her teary eyes looking at a tranquilizer dart that was lodged in her brother's arm. With one last burst of energy, he lifted his recently freed hand up to feel for his sister's face. He attempted to caress it, but winced every time I saw it go through her ethereal form. "I love you, Jayne. Tell everyone in Heaven that I said 'hi' when you get freed."

"I love you, too, bubby! I'll be waiting for you," she got out right before the tranquilizer took over – he slumped over. Jayne sat there crying for a moment before joining Alex. I turned to the culprit behind this whole fiasco.

"I was wondering when you were going to stop staring at your unconscious friend and finally look at me," the old man said rather calmly for someone who just knocked a young man out. He had laid the tranquilizer gun down. Instead, the .45 was pointed at me, just waiting for the trigger to be pulled.

"Why do you hesitate?" I asked the old man – I don't know if I was trying to buy time or if I really didn't care what I said considering I was going to die.

"I bet you think you're so smart," the old man ignored my question. I noticed that his hands shook; this event must have really scared him. "No one should have known how to get inside the base. The abandoned warehouse should have appeared as a dead end. How did you communicate with your friends outside of the base?"

"I didn't much," I answered honestly, still not caring what he did with the information. His hard work and research was being destroyed by some invisible force right in front of his fear filled eyes, so it wasn't as if he could make use out of my words. The worst he could do was to shoot me and I was pretty sure that was his plan anyways. "I talked to one person outside of the prison and that was only one time."

"I don't believe you; you're a pretty good liar," I shrugged his accusations off. "Will you stop destroying the cure? How are you even doing that?"

"I'm not going to stop," I shrugged again. I was taking a rather nonchalant attitude considering there was gun pointed at me. "It's never going to stop."

"Why must you make me the enemy?" the old man almost sounded sincerely sorrowful – almost. "What did I do, but try to help make the world a better place? How do I end up the bad guy in all this? I'm only doing what's right."

"No, you only did what you thought was right," My eyes narrowed as he began to sob – too dramatic to make me feel like he was sincere. "What's really right and what you want to be right are two very different things. How is it right to take away a God-given gift?"

"You don't understand," the old man cried. "Those gifts are not from God – they are too inhuman to be so. They can only be from one source and unless you are cured of them, you will forever be children of said source."

"Who are you to deem that so?" I screamed at the man – unable to hear any more of the crap he was trying to feed me. That was when he pulled the trigger and the shot rang out. I was thankful that he was such a poor shot, but the pain that went through my left shoulder was still pretty excruciating. "You missed my heart." Everything sounded strange as the shot had messed up my hearing – I felt like I was in a tunnel or something

"Many of my ancestors have held the same belief as I," he ignored my comment as he loaded the now empty chamber. "Besides, it makes sense. How can inhumane gifts – such as seeing the dead, or reading people's personal thoughts, or knowing what happens before it's supposed to occur – be from God? No, those can only be characteristics of demons."

"Your ancestors were just as crazy as you," I said through clenched teeth – the pain making it difficult to think straight. "And maybe God gave us these gifts to help people. If what I believe is right, then you've been killing innocent people for far too long and you've been doing more harm to this world than you've been saving."

"Shut your mouth, girly," he glared at me. He couldn't think that way – he couldn't handle the guilt. "You're trying to make me believe a lie. You're one of the demons yourself."

"Don't you dare call her that," a man snarled behind Mr. Anderson. I recognized him immediately; his familiar light brown hair and warm green eyes were hard for me to miss. Also hard to miss, was the gun that he held pointed at the old man.

"Ah, Mr. Valentine," the old man seemed unfazed when he turned around to see the gun in his face. I, however, was surprised and concerned by what came next.

The old man lunged at Seth. He fought pretty amazingly for an old guy with bad joints. My brother was no match for the old man as he had become worn out from fighting all night. The old man quickly had him pinned to the wall opposite of the one my back was against and his gun had been tossed a little distance away from me.

"Stay here," the old man growled at Seth who was crumpled up in the floor. I couldn't bear to imagine what he had done to my brother, but I was just happy that he was still breathing – for a little while longer, at least. "I have to deal with a more pressing matter, at the moment. I'll come back for you later."

I think that's when the realization that I was going to die actually hit me, for the first time that night. I had known that it was a likely possibility, but I didn't feel the real impact of it until the old man walked across the broken concrete to launch the final blow. I don't know what made me scared at that particular moment and not earlier when the trigger was pulled – maybe it was because of Seth's arrival or maybe it was because I finally took notice of our audience.

Two ghosts stood in the corner, watching what was happening – frozen and helpless. Seth was still crouched on the floor on the other side of the room; he was glaring intensely at the old man. Jayce was unconscious, lying on his side almost as if he was sleeping naturally.

Old Mr. Anderson stopped in front of me; he stood much closer than he had last time and I guessed that he wanted to make sure that he didn't miss again. Up close, I could see the inner workings of the gun and it only served to terrify me more. I had to look away, even though I knew that it wouldn't change my fate any.

I was surprised to see that Seth was no longer glaring at the old man. Instead, he was staring at something intently – holding his hand out as if he was attempting to grab something. Then, I saw what he was reaching for; the gun that had been thrown across the room was slowly inching its back to Seth. I risked a quick glance at Alex and Jayne's direction, but found that neither one of them seemed to notice the gun – they were more concerned with the crazy man in front of me.

"Any last words?" the old man asked. Seth almost had the gun; it was only inches from his hand, but I didn't think that he'd get it in time. At least he'd be able to save himself – the thought gave me comfort. "No last words, then?"

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see what came next. I didn't even have the time to take one last deep breath before the shot rang out.

I expected it to be more painful – I expected it to take longer. When I opened my eyes, I was still in the same building – Seth was still crouched on the floor and the old man was now lying flat on the ground. But everything was covered in this brilliant, golden light.

As I looked around in wonder, I found Alex and Jayne doing the same. Then, Alex turned to me and gave me an amazing heartfelt smile. "It's over, Anna!" he exclaimed. "They've done it. They've stopped the hunters."

"Thank goodness," I smiled back in relief. I was starting to have problems breathing and it was then that I realized that I wasn't actually dead, but I was starting to get really tired. My eyes had started to resist staying open, when Harley and Hannah materialized in front of me.

"It's done!" Hannah bounded over to me excitedly. She wrapped her thin, ghostly arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek.

"We're finally free!" For the first time since I met him, I saw Harley with a happy smile on his face. "And you get partial credit for all this, so thanks, I guess." I could only smile at the boy.

"Tell Mason and the others that we'll be waiting for them," Hannah said as she went to join her brother. He took her hand and they began to wave goodbye.

"We'll be waiting for all of you," Harley added and they both grinned at me before disappearing into the golden light.

Then, Jayne came and hugged me. "Take care of my brother, will ya? Maybe introduce him to a nice girl or something. It'd be good for him."

"I'll do what I can," I promised. She stepped back and smiled at me. Then, she also disappeared into the golden light. Alex seemed to hesitate where he stood. "Come and give me a hug before you go."

"I'm going to miss you," he said as he wrapped his arms around me. "Promise me that you'll take care of yourself."

"I'm going to miss you, too," I smiled sadly at the young man I had grown so fond of. "Don't worry; I'll be fine."

"Goodbye, Anna," he stood and watched the golden light for a moment, before looking back at me. His electric-green eyes seemed worried as they watched.

"Stop worrying," I gave him a small smile. "I'll see you soon, Alex." He gave me one last smile before joining the others in the golden light. Then, the brilliant light was gone.

"Anna," Seth had come to sit beside me as some point during the farewells. He gave me a gentle hug before sitting beside me and taking my hand. "It's been too long, sis."

"Indeed it has, Seth," I smiled weakly at him. "Indeed it has, but it's all over now. Everything can return to something similar to normal."

"Uh, about that," he laughed nervously. His tone didn't raise any alarms, but simply made me curious. I raised an eyebrow and he gave another uneasy chuckle. "I might have asked Bethany to be my girlfriend while you were gone." He closed his eyes and winced – waiting for me to hit him, I guessed.

"Oh," I said simply. He opened his eyes and gave me an incredulous look. "It's about time." He shook his head and laughed at my comment. "And I kind of kissed Simon before I left."

"When we get back home, I guess we have a lot to talk about, then," he grinned at me. I grinned back before recalling his little 'force pull' act with the gun.

"Speaking of things to talk about," those few words wiped the grin off his face. "What was the telepathic thing you did with the gun earlier?"

"I think I'll feel more comfortable explaining that to you when you don't have a bullet in your arm," he decided. It was then that I remember that he was a bit squeamish when it came to injuries – especially those with a lot of blood loss.

"Okay, that's fair," I conceded quickly. "How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?" I had watched the old man beat him up and I knew that he must have been hurt pretty badly.

"I'll be fine," he shrugged the pain off. I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder. "I'll be better when someone comes to help you."

"Bubby," I closed my eyes and held onto Seth's warm hand. The chill of the night was finally sitting in, now that everything had calmed down.

"What is it, sis?" he murmured quietly. Breathing was starting to become harder to do as the night continued and I found my mind starting to wander more easily.

"I'm really glad you're here and that you're okay," I felt myself getting pulled into a deep sleep. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Those were the last words spoken right before everything became black.

37: Epilogue: Ordinary World

"And I won't cry for yesterday,

There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find,

And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world,

I will learn to survive," – Duran Duran (or Red)

---

I woke up to the sound of snoring. I slowly opened my eyes to find Seth lying at the foot of my bed. He apparently had come in to check on me and ended up crawling in my bed sometime last night. He had picked up the habit of doing that after we got back home. I think that the two months I spent with the hunters added to the few days that I spent in the hospital afterwards (for both my bullet wound and to clean my system of the weird drugs the hunters had given me) had made him a bit paranoid that I wouldn't still be there when he woke up.

It probably didn't help that he was still haunted by the night of the revolution. He told me that he had nightmares – sometimes they were about when he killed Mr. Anderson, sometimes they were about not killing him at all and waking up to the aftermath. He said that they were getting better, though, and I had noticed that he was coming into my room less often at night.

I carefully got out of bed – not wanting to disturb his sleep – and walked over to the window. Snow was falling steadily and it made my mind wander to the first day it snowed. It had been the day of the mass memorial service for those whose lives had been lost in the fight. The pure white snow seemed fitting for the occasion, but it still couldn't compare to the golden light that had touched everything that night.

The snow made me feel a bit guilty and also blessed beyond measure. I still had everyone that I held close to me. Mason and Emma had stayed at the division during the fight for precautious reasons and were very much alive – they were planning on going to Winter Formal together. Seth and Bethany went through some pretty harsh combat, but they were still very excited for the upcoming dance as well.

After the first initial exhilaration of seeing each other alive, things became a little awkward between Simon and me. It also probably didn't help that I asked my family to let Jayce stay on the couch downstairs, but we talked things through and worked things out. Eventually, we got back to being us and we were content together.

There was a lot lost in the fight, but a lot of good came from it. We were no longer threatened by the witch hunters' existence – the few that were left were afraid of us. We had finally put aside our differences and come together. Now, no one cared if you were a ghost hunter or a know-it-all or if you were someone who had the gift of telepathy – someone like Seth, who apparently had the rare gift this entire time and was afraid to tell anyone about it. But maybe the best thing that I got out of this fight was seeing my father again.

He had been called on his work phone and asked to join the revolution sometime after I had already been taken hostage. He readily joined without the knowledge of my gift returning or the fact that I wasn't safe at my mother's house in Northanger Valley. He had actually called my cell phone to check on me and poor Simon was the one who had to explain everything. The two seem to be on good terms now; they went out together several times during Dad's stay and did guy stuff that I didn't really understand, but it made them happy.

After Dad left and the excitement of everything dwindled down, everything started to find a sense of normalcy. I had even heard word that things were doing great for the others who had been in the Gifted Program with me. Heather was angry that the 'cure' had been destroyed, but after realizing that it was doing more harm than good, she seemed to accept it. Besides, she had more things to worry about as she worked with neurologists to try and get her seizures under control. Not to mention, she and Dustin were busy planning a wedding for this spring.

Brett and Sierra went back to their hometown in Wildwood, Kentucky. From Sierra's Facebook posts, they seemed to be getting situated well. They even sent me an online invitation to Benjamin's eighth birthday party that was coming up in few weeks.

Things in Northanger Valley hadn't changed that much. Those who were oblivious about the gifted were still oblivious. The fight that would have normally brought major media coverage managed to be silently swept under the rug – seeing as it was brought on by a division of the government's gifted agency. Those who were in the said division continued to go and train for possible situations; those that had been injured simply went to rest and talk smack with the others.

There were a few changes, though. Most of them were the kind that normally comes after a traumatic event – people became quieter as they dealt with the loss and the pain of what they went through, some people moved away to try and forget the painful memories, a lot of us came closer and tried to work through things together. Maybe one of the biggest changes, though, was the newcomers.

I guess that they weren't really newcomers, per say; they had technically lived there before and for much longer than my short duration. Simon's sister, Stacey had come back home with her fiancé, Charlie, and family in tow. Once Stacey had heard news of the fight, she wanted to come and see her family as soon as she could.

Charlie's family had found Florida to not be so tempting after living there for a bit and were eager to come back home as well. They packed everything up and were up here in a matter of weeks. Charlie and Stacey even transferred to a local university.

Simon and I were actually supposed to go have lunch with them later that afternoon. It would be our first opportunity to sit down and talk – we hadn't really gotten the chance with everything that had been going on. I was very excited, but I was also nervous; the silly yet ever present fear of being rejected by anyone from Simon's family was what was keeping me from moving from the window.

With a sigh, I peeled myself away from the winter wonderland view and walked over to my closet. I had faced ghosts, witch hunters, and the sometimes questionable school lunches – meeting my boyfriend's sister was nothing compared to that; I could totally do this. I took a deep breath and opened up the door to my closet and was met with a surprise.

A gangly, teenage boy stood in my closet. He had shaggy, dark brown hair that I really wanted take a brush to. He wore glasses, a red hoodie, baggy jeans, and a mischievous grin. "Hi. Um, who are you?"

"Your Mom!" the boy laughed before becoming enveloped in a golden light. I stood there in surprise for a moment before just shaking my head and smiling. Yep, everything was back to normal.