The Dragon Keeper

⤟ the job ⤠

Today my mood was sour because was the day my parents died three years ago. Since the day started I felt unpleasant in my gut. I let the sound of rain drown the sound of teacher speaking and I was suddenly back to the day I walked back home to see my house on fire. The sound of an ambulance and police cars was buzzing in my head and I could feel myself relapsing again.

I turned towards the book in my hand and ducked my head low letting the brown hair curtain hide me. My eyes started burning because of the tears but I kept reading lines from the script in front of me. A tear fells on a word on the script, like a glass drop on a word.

I read and re-read it, like a chant in my head so that I don't look weird.

Wooden, wooden, wooden. I kept re-reading it.

Finally making past the whole line it said, wooden closet.

I sighed as I licked my drying lips and blinked back the emerging tears, hurriedly wiping my face with my oversized sweatshirt sleeves.

A light bell sound alerted me to the time and I realized the fifteen minutes passed and I was done for the day. Before stepping out in rain I tied my long brown hair in a bun and waited at the exit for Reece Pearson, my best friend who was like always running late.

He was an art student in the same university and he was crazy talented. We had been friends forever, not only his dad was friends with mine, but we had also been each other's support since we were kids. His dad was the man who co-shared the dojo with my father, he was a rich man and surprisingly kind with his stature.

Now that my family was gone, he gave the dojo to me legally now that I was an adult and also the stunt studio where people still practiced and worked and I was kind of a part of their family now.

I was getting a little annoyed to stand there and wait for him today because of my already sour mood so I pulled out my phone to give him a call but before I could unlock it, I saw him walking towards me surrounded with friends, mostly girls who would laugh at the stupidest thing he would say. Reece I grew up with was a lanky kid who would cry on seeing a bee and scream if locked in a dark room. But this Reece was different, puberty hit him and he turned muscular gradually.

He was tall to a gracious height, his dusty golden locks were always grown a little longer down his neck and some would say it was dead old style but he carried it well. He had lighter brown eyes, sharp features, and a smile that could literally make dead feel alive. I could see how girls would fawn over him because there was time he was my crush too.

But that all vanished as I kicked his ass dozens time in every kind of hand to hand combat we did since he basically spent half his life in the dojo with me.

As soon as his eyes met mine, his eyes were laced with concern. He remembered, obviously he does. He got me through this hell when I could barely eat and breathe after I lost my family to fire.