The Extraordianry Seven

1. Begining of the End....

1. Beginning of the End 
 
 

Dear Reader,

Today is not a good day; it’s the beginning of the end.

“We have to jump!” he says as I look down.

They had cornered the two of us, and we have nowhere to go except into the dumpster. I don’t hesitate this time and take a dive. The loathsome smell of rotten food fills my nostrils as I dig my way out of piles of trash, and the sound of laughter fills my ears. A yelp and hands scrambling for a solid grip quickly follow the laughter.

Our decoy succeeds as they run off shouting insults and jokes.

I hear their hysterical laughter and it irritates me greatly as my friend Noah peers at me with a contemplating grin aimed at David Wilson and his lackeys. His glasses dangle off his face, there’s pizza in his hair, and indescribable trash cloaks him. Upon scrambling out of the dumpster, Noah and I land unceremoniously onto the wet ground of the alley. Noah doesn’t look so hot; he is drenched in what appears to be ranch dressing, pieces of lettuce, and something inconspicuous, possibly pudding....well hopefully it’s pudding. He stands up, and his face scrunches up as he smells himself and fixes his glasses which broke in the struggle. His hazel eyes glance over me and a goofy grin crosses his lips.

“Man, you look awful,” he says, and I rolled my eyes, walk over to him, and sniff.

“You smell like cat vomit!” I state. We both make the mistake of looking at one another and laugh hysterically as he wraps an arm around me.

“At least we got away,” Noah concludes, and I nod with agreement.

“Yeah, it was this,” I say, gesturing towards our new appearances, “or getting our heads flushed into the locker room toilets again...”

Noah shivers in disgust. “This...was a…decent call”

Noah is my best and, well, only friend. We’ve tackled the hierarchy of bullies since Kindergarten, and he's helped me through the deaths of my parents. He is always by my side no matter the consequence, and I can always depend on him.

By the time we make it to the intersection where we journey our separate ways, it is nearly dark. We say our good byes and part ways, I go left and Noah goes right. We always meet up and walk to school together. On this route, we met, and it has allowed our friendship to grow into its current state of brotherhood. Traveling down the sidewalk, I near the small house in which I live. Forest surrounds it, and yet the bright yellow house manages to be close to the city. Though it isn’t much, the joyful flowers filling the flower-boxes under the two windows welcome me home. I wipe my feet on the ‘welcome home’ mat as the front door opens, and a familiar warm face greets me.

My guardian frowns at the stench of my new odor and shakes her head. A young black woman in her mid-twenties whose light brown skin glows, Cara is dressed in her gardening outfit, complete with a sun hat. She is a mere five feet tall while I tower over her at six two. Looking at me like I’m her new source of amusement, she grins, her hands on her tiny hips, her kind brown eyes observing me speculatively.

“My, my,” she says with a soft, teasing voice. “Had a nice swim?”

She motions me inside at my sigh. Walking into the warm house, I grin, the smell of freshly baked cookies fill my nostrils, and I spot them in the small dining room.

“I'm guessing you had no choice in the matter,” she mutters as she closes the door behind me. She doesn’t need my affirmative to know, and I don’t have to say anything as she shoos me upstairs to take a shower. Though Cara is young, she isn’t stupid, and she knows I've been tormented by the school bullies. Well, that or I’m in some weird teenage phase.

The wooden floor creaks under my weight as I walk up the stairs and head to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I peel out of my foul, soiled clothes, turn on the shower, and step in. For a long time, I stand there, letting the water pound against my skin and listening to the metal, for any flaws it might have. I don’t know the reason, but I’ve had the ability to control metal since I was a baby. I can detect its deformities, attract it at will, and turn it into anything. Before she died, my mother used to say it is special gift from God and I believe her. Even now, though she’s long gone, I hear her words echoing in my head.

I turn off the shower, and, grabbing my towel off the rack and wrapping it around my waist, I open the door and head to my room where fresh clothes wait on my bed. After I was finish changing into the clothes, I open my bedroom door to head downstairs. I immediately sense something is wrong; all the lights are out mysteriously, and the smell of roast beef filling my nose sets me on edge as I feel my hand along the wall in the hallway until I reach stairs.

“Cara?” I call as I creep slowly down the stairs, trying not to let them creak. She didn’t reply, and I stop moving as I feel something crunch beneath my feet. Bending down to feel it carefully, I determined that the broken object is glass or ceramic, maybe a plate. As I began to continue walking towards the kitchen, I call for Cara again, but she still doesn’t respond. Heavy footsteps approach me, and they don’t belong to Cara. I freeze on my spot, my heart pounding in my chest like a furious percussionist. The steps come closer to me but stop when the door closes and a familiar voice hollers for me.

“Jonah? Why is it so dark?” He pauses for a moment. “Where are you?” I walk towards the sound of his voice with my arms outstretched, panicking significantly less, and stop when I feel his glasses. “Hey!” he exclaims in frustration. “Is that really necessary?” He slaps my hand away, and a bright light that hit blasts me in my face.

Blinking at the sudden illumination from his flashlight, I see Noah with his glasses slightly askew. He is dressed in a sweater, pleated khaki pants, and brown dress shoes. “Cara invited me to dinner” he simpers with his face slightly red. His eyes go wide in fear, and, curious at what he is seeing, I turn around. Unnatural gold eyes stare back at me, belonging to a man in a top hat and a black trench coat with a gleaming knife in his hands.

Noah lets out a high-pitched scream and drops the flashlight, making the world go dark again. I quickly grab him by the arm and run blindly through the house. The man with the knife follows on our tails, his heavy footsteps echoing through the halls. With Noah still screaming and clinging to my arm with a death grip, I attempt to find a way out, succeeding in making a countless number of crashes, thuds, and tumbles.

“Were going to die!” he screams after crashing again.

Something rough grabs me by the neck, and I lose my connection with Noah, and, by the loud crash I hear, he falls on his back. I let out a panicked yelp as I see the gleam of the man’s knife in the air, and I feel it come near me in a fast swoops.

“ Jonah!” I hear Noah cry, his footsteps coming straight for me. The strong grip to my shirt collar loosens, and a loud grunt sounds, followed by a loud thud as the man hits the ground. Noah grabs my hand and opens a door. Light erupts in my face, and the cool night air whips at my exposed skin as we sprint away from the danger.

Then I remembered Cara was still in the house. I pull away from Noah and run back to the house screaming for her. Breaths later, the house explodes noisily, and I stop running. I stand there dumbfounded with Noah next to me, a similar expression plain on his face.

“Cara....” I say weakly, tears pouring down my face, and faintly I feel Noah trying to pull me away from the flames scorching in front of us. I scream for Cara now; her name echoes through the trees, and I run towards the burning house. Noah grabs hold and pulls me back, and I struggle against him in my blind stupor, screaming at him to let me go back, still crying for Cara.

“Jonah, stop! You cannot save her! Go back, and you die! We need the police! Think! Do you want to be dead?” he shouts at me, his voice cracking.

Angry and confused, my thoughts loop in circles. ‘Why did that man come after me when I am just a bullied kid? Was he trying to kill me? He had a knife. Was he trying to capture me? Why? Why did he kill Cara?’ The last thought brings a new wave of anger and hurt to surface, but I harness it. The sirens wailing nearby fail to bring me hope, and I feel myself slump to the ground and cover my face as I cry. Beside me, Noah follows suit, shedding his tears.

If I had known then, I could have stopped them…but as I said, this was just the beginning.