Vital - Book 1 (On hold: to be rewritten)

8. The Box Theory

“Shut up.” Hale looked utterly calm. His eyes showed no sign of anger or hurt. He was still. And stayed that way for many minutes. Wren almost wished he would just yell back at her. 

“I don’t think you’re stupid. And this isn’t a game I’m playing. I don’t think you understand that the whole point of this, is to help you. To keep you safe from Mortimer. That is the reason this family took you in. The Blackthorn’s mother and father are Darkling hunters, responsible for anyone who is under threat from Darklings. So you wouldn’t be helping anyone by sacrificing yourself for the sake of Layken. In fact, the only ones you’d be helping, is the Darklings.”

Hale turned and left, taking with him his serene calm. 

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Wren headed out of the kitchen, holding the book that she had slapped down on the counter when she had gotten back. She didn’t feel like going back to her room. Instead, she crossed the hallway to the closed door opposite the kitchen one. She pushed it open with her foot. 

Inside was a light and airy living room, complete with long strips of glass positioned at intervals on the walls. A large, wide screen TV was perched on top of a wooden TV box on the east side of the room. Wren perched herself on a sofa, tucked her legs underneath her and began to read.

The first few chapters were relatively boring; basically all about the origin and characteristics of an Oxygenators and what they are capable of. Hand painted illustrations were placed along side the text, depicting men and woman with flaming blue and green eyes looking directly at something you couldn’t see.

The middle chapters were the ones that interested Wren the most. It was titled: Tips On Control

It is common, especially after having been decided, for an Oxygenator’s power to play up and become hyperactive. In cases such as these, follow these tips to help control the power, which will ultimately lead to it becoming normal again, provided the suggested Oxygenator practises regularly.

1. Exercise the Box Theory. People’s heads around you- all they are are  When you feel yourself reading thoughts without actually meaning to, close the lid.

“Enjoying the book?” Iris threw herself down onto the sofa backwards, feet dangling in the air over the back.

“Not particularly,” Wren said, closing the book. She settled her eyes on Iris’s, urging thoughts to come so she could put the ‘box theory’ to the test.

“You’re staring at me,” said Iris, sitting up and smiling nervously. “Do I have something on my face?” While Iris wiped her mouth on the spotless cream blanket she had already gotten dirty footprints from her converse on, Wren strained with the box lid, forcing it down over the thoughts that threatened to spill out.

“So that’s what you’re doing,” said Iris, finally catching on. “Huh. You made me wipe my mouth on Mum’s cream blanket. Whoops.”

When Wren didn’t respond, she asked, “So, is it working? ‘Cause at the moment, you look like you’re in a considerable amount of pain.”

Wren relaxed, sighing heavily. She was tired, but slightly euphoric too. She grinned widely. 

“It worked then?” Iris asked, excited but slightly bemused.

“Yes. It worked.”

“Congrats.” Iris pushed herself off the sofa and skipped to the door, disappearing around the corner and into the music room.

Wren picked up the book tramped unto her bedroom. It was cooler in there than the living room- she had left the window open while they were out. Her euphoria slipped away fast as she remembered the events of that morning. The woman; tortured until she died. Tortured for information on where Wren was. 

And it was all Wren’s fault.

She climbed into the window-seat, pulling her knees up to her chest. A strip of grass surrounded the Blackthorn mansion, wider at the right side of it; the living room looking onto it. From her position at the window, she could see a medium sized tree, about ten feet tall with emerald green leaves that danced in the gentle breeze that blew off the canal. And then she noticed the figure, perched in the almost nest-like space in the centre of the twisted branches, feet stretched out. 

Hale.

He was looking out at the canal, obviously unaware he was being watched. For a split second, Wren considered going down, confronting him about the ‘argument’ they had had earlier, if you could call it that.

She decided against it and went to collect a book from her bag. She selected a battered copy of ‘The Hunger Games’ and settled back down to read it. 

_________________________________________________________

About two hours later, Iris stuck her head around the door. 

“Want some chicken?” She waved a polystyrene take-away box in the air.

“Thanks.” Wren got up and stretched her legs, then took the box off Iris. “Shall I come down?”

“Oh, no. Don’t bother. Hale’s disappeared fro the night so…” She trailed off, looking at the ground. “Don’t worry, though. It happens all the time. He just…wanders off when he’s upset or angry. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

Wren nodded slowly. “Do you want to come in?”

Iris’s face brightened instantly and she slipped in, holding her own take-away box and a glass of lemonade. She perched on the bed, leaning against the pillows.

“You really need to decorate,” she said through a mouthful of noodles. “This place is so boring.”

“I guess I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t weather I’m staying here or not…the woman I saw in the vision this morning…she’s my mother. My actual birth-mother. I could find her.”

“Huh. You never told me about what you saw.” Iris pointed her fork at Wren. “I mean, I would read you mind and all, but it’s so much effort.”

Wren laughed and told Iris the entire chain of events that had taken place that morning, including the scene at the house, the fact that she had a brother, her abandonment. Iris was silent all the way through, fork hovering in the air.

“You have a brother. Like Clarin.”

“Huh?”

“Well, Clarin was taken away by his father when he was a child. I don’t think he had a sister though. But it’s weird, you say there was a house in the middle of the hills?”

“Yeah. Huge and white.”

Iris frowned,mand then cast her gaze out onto the canal.

“Uh, Wren. I think you’re mother may be closer than we think.”