Marked for Murder

seven: the powers that be

I DROP MY PEN, finally satisfied with my five last minute essays and worksheets. Ancient Archives, Benign Borders, Lithe Languages, Mazed Mathematics and Sustaining Sciences.

All names of compulsory subjects that Avernus High focused on and excelled at. History, Geography, Language, Maths and Science as the dated people had called it.

I scribble doodles absentmindedly, staring out of my bedroom window onto the lawn my mother worked so hard to maintain. Of course, it seemed to be of no use. With the exception of a small portion of narcissus flowers that are always in bloom near our gate.

Beyond our garden, are rows of picket fences that bordered every house in our neighbourhood. We live in the biggest, only habitable state on the continent of Avernus. Our homes are quaint and fashioned in a circular formation, radiating outwards from the Athena Hall in the centre of the state.

There are towering lampposts between every two houses and they burned brilliantly, leaving very little in the darkness of the evening. Couples stroll down the silent streets, children play Deadhand, screaming and laughing while their proud parents look on.

A slow smile makes its way to my lips and by the next few minutes, I have pushed the window open completely and am leaning out. A kid I am particularly fond of, Amelia Jones, sees me and waves frantically. I return her gesture with a wink and she beckons me to come down.

With my work completed, I turn back into my room. I switch off the fairy lights that decorate the entire wall behind my bed and quickly grab a stole hanging behind the door. I push down the stairs, quickly mumble a 'be back soon' to my mother and walk out on the street.

Amelia's face lights up when she sees me and hands me a fishnet racquet. "You'll be on my team," she perks up, pulling me onto the field with her as another team member exits the ground. I plant myself at the now empty defence position and somewhere a whistle rings clear.

I have been to enough practice sessions with William to know the basics and can satisfactorily hold my own. The play starts and Amelia pushes into attack, picking up the makeshift Deadhand ball from the opponent. She barrels forward, swishing left and right as the defence moves in around her.

Attacking players surround us and immediately there is clashing and bumping of racquets against each other. I push to Amelia's left, fending of attacks for the ball. A kid barrels into me, knocking the breath out of my lungs.

The opposing captain sweeps up the ball. His teammates pull up a wall of flesh around him. He jogs backward, utterly confident. We fall back and I am pretty sure we are going to lose when someone manages to break the wall and snatch the ball from the opposition, straight into Amelia's direction.

"Woo! Go Thea!" An all too familiar voice shrieks from the sidewalk. I look up and catch that fiery wall of hair flying and forest green eyes twinkling at me. A particular pair of ocean blue eyes wink at me and a sideways smile works itself onto my face.