The 7th Dragon

The News

Chapter 1 - The News

        I woke up gasping for breath. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and threatend to spill down my face, but I knew I couldn't cry. I sucked in a large breath and pushed back the traitor tears before glancing at the clock. Bright red numbers blinked back at me, forging a path of light through the darkness. 5:30. It was too late to go back to sleep, but to early to back to sleep. Not that there was much of a chance of that happening with that dream on my mind.

       I pulled myself up to sit on my bed. My reflection was almost recognizable. The only thing out of whack was my skin. Crystal was draped around my shoulders, her head resting in the hollow of my neck. She is adorably protective, though she would kill me if she ever heard that. The girl is way too much like me. Except she knows when to shut up.

Yea, I have a little creature that can talk to me. Well, I have 8 of them…that talk…and another one that has yet to say a word. They aren’t so much as creatures, but tattoos on my skin. And they almost never speak aloud. That only happens when we’re completely and totally alone. Other times they simply think. I hear all their thoughts, and they hear all mine.  My little creatures on my skin aren’t really tattoos, but a little more like birth marks, so I call them my dragons, because that’s what they are, and their really isn’t anything else to call them. Usually only one or two of them are awake at a time, so my mind doesn’t always feel like a mental highway.

No, I’m not crazy, even though I hear voices in my head. I’m simply…different… in more ways than one. You’ve probably already figured out the biggest way. If I ever let anyone think that I have nine different colored dragons on my skin that move and speak, not to mention think, I would be in a psychiatric ward before I could say, “Just kidding.” I mean seriously, have you ever walked down the street seeing tattoos talking and moving on people’s skin. If you have, I recommend a serious set of glasses, and maybe a therapist.

Anyway, my dragons normally reside on my back so no one will see them. When they wake up they move wherever they want. My little friends tend to get up when I get emotional. It’s good that I don’t do emotional crap. I’ve had enough to last several life times. Crystal always knows when I’m upset though, even if I do well at hiding it; she’s always been the one that knows me best.

She knows I’m distressed about last nights dream, so she’s trying to comfort me. Just knowing she cares about me is enough to make me feel better.

Crystal is my white dragon. She tends to break the rules (like me) and likes to inhabit the area over my heart. I don’t want to wake her so I glide over to my bathroom.

Once I had gone through my morning ritual no one was up. Not in my house or in my head. I hurried down stairs and peeked in mom and dad’s room. The only thing in there was an unmade bed. They most likely weren’t in the house because the noise level was actually tolerable. The farm hands were feeding the livestock. Where would they be? I mean were smack dab in the middle of Texas for crying out loud!

I walked in the kitchen and saw a sight I’d never thought I’d see. My parents. Cooking breakfast. From scratch. This can only mean one thing.

They’re really happy, and I’m not going to be.

Mom smiled at me and I cautiously grinned back. We sat down at the table. I could taste the awkwardness in the air. The only time all three of us had ever had a meal together was when dad’s executive meeting was canceled. Not when my horse was on her deathbed. Not when my best friend was murdered. Not on any birthday or holiday. Aren’t we a close family?

Surprisingly my French toast was good, but I could tell from the look on my parents’ faces that they weren’t interested in eating.

“Sam, how would you feel about going to a new school?” my dad asked, always getting straight to the point.

“…It would be okay…I guess.” I was never the most popular girl at school. I refuse to be all girly, it’s just not me, so I try to blend in the best I can. My favorite outfit is a T-shirt, jeans, and a pair of good old converse. I have dark brown hair and brown eyes to match. My skin is pale but clear and smooth, and I have never even thought about getting my ears pierced.

I may be well know at school, but only for being the, “richest kid in town.” How shallow. Girls at school think that, ”I’m perfect and I know it, so I don’t bother wasting my time with others.” No. That’s not me. I just know that they think that because their impersonations of me aren’t exactly quiet.

They think I’m pretty and snobby when really, I hate wearing anything uncomfortable or revealing and I’m not exactly a person who likes attention. I just like my space.

“Well, we need to start looking at them because we’re going to be moving soon.” I almost froze, but I knew better. I had to stay calm and keep this from my dragons. I don’t need them all worried and squirmy in front of my rents.

This move could be really good, or it could be really bad. I hated to ask the question, but I knew it had to be done.

“Where to?” I asked nonchalantly, refusing to meet his eyes and look worried.

“London.”