Try Learn Destroy (Book One- Try)

EIGHT- Bethany & A Rude Awakening

"That could mean anything!" I point out, disappointed.

"I know." Hawk also appears to be highly ashamed.

"We ought to keep looking up the words." I encourage. Hawk smiles, we return to the dining room.

On the table stand to glasses of water and a second bowl of cereal.

"There’s no milk in it, I wasn’t sure when you would wake up." Hawk informs me. My stomach sounds as if it’s applauding Hawk’s generosity. I eat the cornflakes grateful for some more food, then I spot something irregular. My PSPL is open but the video I was watching yesterday morning is exited.

"Hawk did you fiddle with this?" I ask.

"Yeah, I watched the video. Cyrus really wants you home." Hawk states.

"Yeah it’s because of Bethany." I reply, forgetting he doesn’t have a clue who Bethany is. I blush at my carelessness.

"Bethany?" Hawk asks.

I sigh, remembering Bethany. Everybody remembers Bethany. Who could forget her? She was petite and sweet. A beautiful black haired girl, long lashes framing big brown eyes and Beth had a tan that most girls would kill for. But her greatest asset was her humour, her jokes. Bethany had a sense of humour that could make anybody laugh at her corniness. Bethany was liked by everyone. She liked to hang around with Cyrus and I, just because we weren’t like Sophia Burgerstein. Like us, Bethany hated Sophia Burgerstein. But Bethany was well sought after by Sophia and her cronies but each time she was asked to join the clique, she would politely refuse. That was because her heart was with us; despite how stupid that sounds it was true. Bethany had a crush on Cyrus. Always had. Beth was his best friend, despite Cyrus being mine. We went around as a three but after she vanished Cyrus and I grew closer very quickly. She went missing after my sixteenth birthday party. Cyrus and Bethany were the only two people who came to the party. Cyrus even walked her home! He told me via an Email that she kissed him on the cheek before going into her house. But she just vanished. Like poof.

She left a note for us, just us after she vanished. I found it on the range, hidden in the patch of stinging nettles, stuck to the weeds with elastic lead fingers. She told us that she was leaving with a Church Forbidder and would see us soon. She didn’t come back. The town since has dubbed Bethany Wood as a fool. And I will be the next to be given such a title. I wonder if she cares. I know I don’t.

I brush my eyes, she left two weeks ago and now I’m gone. How is Cyrus holding together so well?

"Bethany was my friend. She went missing right after she left my house after my sixteenth birthday party." I hang my head.

"What? Didn’t she warn you?" Hawk asks.

"She told us on a note that she was leaving." I hang my head.

"She left the bubble?" Hawk asks.

"Yeah, everywhere was searched, it was only after three days or constant searching that the local authorities said it was Church Forbidders." I reply, hand over my mouth when I realise I said Church Forbidder.

"Darcy… what’s a Church Forbidder." Hawk asks.

"The legend says that those who disobey the Church’s wishes take innocent civilians from town, rape them, kill them and then put their bodies of blow up beds in bodies of water in town." I gabble.

"What do they do to disobey the Church’s wishes?" Hawk asks. I don’t look up.

"Have an outrageous hair colour." I murmur.

"What?" Hawk asks.

"Have an outrageous hair colour." I repeat.

"So when you met me, you thought I would rape you, kill you, hurt you, and leave you somewhere traumatised?" Hawk asks, I hang my head, not wanting to look at him..

"I didn’t know what to think of you Hawk." I admit.

"Do you now?" he asks, stepping closer to me. My muscles stiffen. Hawk doesn’t look hurt, he looks intrigued.

"Yes." I find myself saying.

"What do you think?" Hawk asks.

"That you see me as something important, I don’t know why yet but I know you do, but I also know that you aren’t what the bubble makes outsiders look to us, you have morals and care for your family. You are willing to risk anything for others and I admire you for that." I reply.

"You think so?" Hawk asks.

"Know so." I correct, hugging him.

"Good to know." Hawk grins.

Hawk and I sit at the dining room, intending to continue research as to what the locket says but we are constantly yawning, despite the amount of caffeine the pair of us are consuming. On occasion we nod off for a few hours, using the books as pillows. When one is asleep the other just daydreams or in my case, sits at the table on my PSPL trying to work out if I should Email Cyrus, and if I were to, what would I type. He’s my best friend and I wouldn’t be able to express how sorry I feel. Instead I drift off for the third time today; it’s around seven PM and is quite dark outside, rain is pounding on the treetops, sounding almost like some sort of hypnotic lullaby.

"Darcy!" Maroon sings menacingly. Frantically I glance at the blond.

"What are we going to do?" I fret.

"It’s okay, come on get in here, I’m right behind you." the boy instructs with a soothing voice, he’s gesturing to a ventilation shaft. I nod…

CRASH!

What on earth was that sound? Was that lightning? I look around the room dimly lit kitchen for Hawk. Is her here? I shake my head; he’s most likely in his own bed. Frowning I get up to investigate the source of the sound.

Alarmed at the way I was forced from my slumber, I slowly and tensely manoeuvre through Hawk’s home, stopping in the hallway to get my bearings. I swear that this place has a second floor. I begin to study any places that a stairwell could be hidden. Bingo! I grin, standing on my toes, pulling the trapdoor open, it creaks. I freeze, afraid that Hawk will find me and assume that I’m snooping through his home. I wait for a moment, paralysed with intense paranoia. Is he awake? Is he looking for me? Satisfied that Hawk could in fact be a heavy sleeper, I climb upon the dicey ladder hesitantly.

When I reach the top of the steps, my hands trace the texture of the wall, trying to find a light switch. Finally the lights begin to flicker and I have the freedom to find out whether the noise originated from here. I wander around; trying not to trip over the various mounds of clutter, spotting what could have caused my violent return to reality from the deepest areas of my subconscious. I find the potential culprit, alongside carelessly strewn shards of glass, previously a window. I blink, registering what is on the floor. A knife. What a nice wake up call. Wait, what?