"Hey, can you grab me that carton of eggs?"
Memory asked me, holding a stainless steel pan over the stove top and swirling melted butter around its surface.
I let out a grunt of affirmation and stood from where I sat at the table. I headed to the fridge and grabbed the eggs, then handed them to Memory while I closed the fridge door.
My mother had taught Memory how to cook many meals and he had become the unofficial chef as he was way better at cooking than I was. He enjoyed it, too.
"How do ya want your eggs?"
He asked me with a smile.
I waved my hand dismissively, sighing,
"Over easy I guess."
He nodded and began cracking eggs into the pan.
Glancing up from my Toshiba laptop, I watched him work at the stove. I screwed up my face while I felt the weird fluttering sensation in my chest like I always did when I saw him.
I didn't much care for him at first, other than the fact that he was my responsibility, but now I'd begun to love him. Well, I didn't really care if he chose to love me or not, but it was nice to imagine the possibility of him loving me in return.
He wasn't much more attractive than any other boy I'd seen around school, but I suppose it was his personality that hit me like a train. He was a few inches shorter than me, had little muscle despite the uncanny strength he displayed, and feathery black hair with white bangs.
I, on the other hand, am lanky, freckled, and have a girl's face and body. My black and blonde hair was always messy and looked awful whenever it was trimmed, but I preferred looking this way than like a girl.
Anyways, he's oblivious to my growing affections for him and I'd like to keep it at that.
Without warning, he turned and grinned mischievously at me. I gritted my teeth and glared.
"What're you looking at?"
He asked teasingly.
"NOT YOU, YOU USELESS DINK!! I'M DAMN HUNGRY AND YOU'RE COOKING SO IM OBVIOUSLY LOOKING AT THE FOOD!!"
I snapped at him, prompting a smile.
My mother walked into the room, yawning.
"You shouldn't yell at him. He might cry."
She laughed.
"Good."
I muttered, taking a sip of my tea.
My mother and I shared the same dark violet eyes and blonde hair, but that was about it. Her hair was long and wavy, reaching halfway down her back, but she held it in place over her right shoulder with a pink and white flower hair clip. She had a beautiful hourglass figure and ignored taunting from her coworkers that she should've stayed married to my father, being such a beautiful woman.
However, she usually smiles and silences them with her sharp tongue. Saying that might make her seem like a sassy, no-nonsense woman, right? Wrong. She's actually got the maturity level of a child and acts as such on most occasions. It's quite endearing, actually.
"You're quite mean, you know?"
Memory said with a grin.
I shrugged.
Before long, he had finished cooking and served us all eggs and bacon. He sat at the table with a sigh.
"I tried something new with some spices I found in the pantry, so the bacon might taste different."
He advised us before we started to eat, which I appreciated. He was usually an excellent cook, but sometimes he made something that tasted nasty because of a new recipe.
I took a bite of the bacon, expecting a revolting taste. However, I blinked and almost exclaimed that it was amazing, but shrugged and mumbled,
"I guess its not bad."
"Are you kidding me, Distance?! Its amazing!! Well done, Memory!"
My mother laughed incredulously.
That was when Memory tried his own cooking and nodded.
"Turned out better than I expected."
He admitted.
From then, we continued to eat while we engaged in idle conversation.
Once we had finished eating, my mom stood up and gathered the dishes. As she began washing them, she murmured,
"Distance?"
I looked up at her, meeting her violet eyes identical to my own.
"Could you run to the grocery store and pick up some eggs and fruit? We seem to be running low."
She asked me with a smile.
I shrugged, standing up and walking towards the closet near the front door. Pulling on my signature cadet blue parka with the silvery fur around the hood, I called a goodbye, then rushed out the door.
"Be careful!"
Memory called after me cheerily.
I walked down the narrow sidewalk leading to our house from the road. Glancing up at the sky, I could see how a normal human would be roasting in my current attire.
We lived in what used to be the southern states: Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. The capital city of Lost Echo is what used to be Dallas--its Dillion now--and as such, the weather is scorching to the average human.
However, Dreamwalkers aren't as easily affected by the weather as humans are. Which is why I am wearing a parka in 46-degree-Celsius weather.
I'm also using the term "Celsius" because after the war broke out a hundred years ago, we started using the Metric system of measurement. Something about trying to be more like Canada because nothing bad ever happens there was the reason. It recovered quickly from the fallouts as well, so they've regained a fairly normal lifestyle...other than Quebec, which had been struggling once it became its own country.
I headed down the sidewalk, hands in my pockets, and only felt comfortably warmed by the temperature. I stepped on a tar-sealed crack and muttered in disgust when a bit of melting tar stuck to the underside of my grey Osiris high tops.
Continuing down the street, I paused at a crosswalk. Once the humming vehicles shot by, I walked across and down the route I usually took to get to the nearby Albertson's grocery store.
I was stopped short when I rounded a corner and came face-to-face with the annoyance of construction. I groaned, backtracking and heading down a side alley to get to the store without having to make the trek around another cluster of streets.
I paused when I felt another presence, and steeled myself. Continuing forward, I saw a group of teens my age smoking and laughing as they chucked rocks at another student. Usually, I just do what I want and leave the scene as is.
Yet this time I stopped and snapped,
"Cut that shit out."
The group stopped and all their eyes locked on me.
A redheaded girl with amber eyes laughed and pointed at me.
"Hey, look! Its the fatherless queer!"
She exclaimed.
I narrowed my eyes. This was the very reason I usually ignored these things.
The only reason I'd stood up this time was because I was acquainted with the girl. Rita. A freshman. One of the few people who had been pardoned and allowed to get transgender surgery to become a girl.
I guess it was a sort of urge to protect a fellow trans person that made me stop this.
I jerked my head aside while meeting her panicked eyes and she took my hint, bursting into a sprint and running away as fast as she could.
Now with her gone, I could focus on getting myself out of this mess.
"Are you really so weak that you need to pick on a freshman in order to feel good about your shitty selves?"
I asked flatly.
A slender brunet boy wearing a muscle shirt smirked at me.
"At least we're normal-"
He began, but I smirked and pointed at his chest.
"FYI, muscle shirts are for muscles, beanpole."
I sneered, grinning.
His eye twitched and the cords in his neck bulged. Anger.
"Do a number on her face. Probably strip her too, to see if she's really male."
I laughed icily.
"Try it, shitlord."
----------------------------
While lying on my stomach on the rug in the living room, a pencil in hand and a sketchbook in front of me, I stiffened.
A chill had run down my spine and back up again, signalling an omen of danger. Not to myself, but to someone close to me. It was a weird thing, but I had always been able to tell when someone I trusted was in danger.
Shark was sitting on the couch beside where I lay, watching a sitcom, so it wasn't her.
However, she seemed to notice that I had become tense and tapped my side with her foot lightly. I met her gaze and she asked,
"Did you sense something?"
"Yeah, I just had a few chills."
"Its probably Distance."
"I'm gonna go bail him out."
I decided with resolve in my voice.
Shark nodded with a smile.
"Go ahead. I'll leave your art stuff where it is."
I hurried to the door, strapping on my red, black and white boots and pulling my short-sleeved grey hoodie over my shoulders.
I sprinted outside, my hyper-advanced sense of smell allowing me to detect my friend's scent immediately. I followed the scent down the road, across the street, and down a narrow alley.
I skidded around a corner, using a rusted green Dumpster as a brace since my speed almost caused me to slam into it. I was dead silent as I moved towards the group of cruelly-laughing teens. Not even a pebble was disturbed as I leaped six feet into the air, my human eye narrowed with anger.
The redhead girl who threw a punch into Distance's stomach at the moment that I lunged into the sky noticed my shadow pass over her and her whole demeanour changed. It went from smug superiority straight into ungodly terror.
"SHIT!! ITS HIM!!"
She screamed before I knocked her down.
Her head was barricaded from the pavement by my hand, since I didn't want to kill her, but she still lost consciousness from the impact. My own blood dripped down my hand as the pavement split the skin of my knuckles.
I had been known to attack people who messed with Distance, but they still thought they could hide from me while they did so. It was odd, since I always caught them in the act. Damn, human douchebags are persistent!
Anyways, I landed on a blonde guy's shoulders, cracking him in the back of his head with my knees. I'd knocked him out and chose a new target within five seconds.
I downed 9 out of 12 douchebags before the remainder of the group got away.
"GO FUCK YOURSELVES!!"
I snarled, hatred oozing from my every word.
The kids I had managed to knock out remained still on the ground, other than their rhythmic breaths.
I made sure the conscious ones had all left, then glanced down at where Distance had fallen on his knees. Blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth and his right eye was swollen shut. In addition, numerous bruises and scratches coated his skin.
"Are you okay?"
I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm fucking fine! I didn't need you here!"
He snapped, whacking my hand away with a fierce glare.
I sighed, nodding.
"Yeah, because you got out of there unscathed all by yourself."
I admitted in a very sarcastic voice.
Distance paused, then shakily stood up and grumbled,
"Asshole."
I smiled, walking over to where his parka was strewn on the ground.
"It's a gift."
I replied.
I retrieved the coat and handed it to Distance, who pulled it back over his shoulders.
"Thanks, I guess."
He muttered reluctantly.
"Not a problem."
I then escorted him back to the house, where Shark waited at the table.
"Oh, no! You're hurt!"
Shark exclaimed, rushing up to us and brushing her hair behind her shoulders.
"I'm fine-"
Distance began, but I interrupted.
"I'll take care of his wounds. If I need help, I'll call you."
I suggested.
Shark nodded an affirmative and I led the way to the bathroom.
I had Distance sit down on the edge of the tub as I searched the medicine cabinet above the sink for medical supplies. He took off his parka while I smiled, wetting a cloth.
Once I did that, I turned and handed the warm cloth to Distance. He winced as he pressed it against his eye.
"....thanks."
He muttered after a few moments.
I shrugged, grabbing another cloth while he held the first one against his eye.
"It was nothing."
I responded as I wiped the blood from the rest of his face.
Once I'd finished, I continued by wiping clean the injuries on his arms and shoulders.
"Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something."
He sighed.
I stood, rinsing the cloth under the tap.
"Ask away."
I murmured nonchalantly.
"Can you teach me how to fight?"
He asked me.
I twisted my mouth from side to side thoughtfully, tossing the cloth into the laundry basket situated beside the toilet.
It wasn't that I liked fighting, but for some reason, I was incredibly good at it. I knew dozens of ways to take down a single opponent, yet I had no idea why.
"I guess I can if it'll make you feel better."
I replied.
I kneeled down and began bandaging Distance's injuries in silence, focusing exclusively on the task at hand. However, as I continued, Distance asked,
"Why don't you go swimming anymore? You used to constantly talk about how much you like water and about the time you'd finally show me what you look like in your Siren form."
I frowned. Yeah, I was part Siren and as such, my legs became a long, scaled tail whenever I entered any water body. This rule excluded rain and knee-depth water as it wasn't enough to trigger a drastic change.
However, I no longer wanted anyone to see me like that.
Why? Because I'd been spotted by another half-Siren in the river outside Dillion and he, along with two others, had opened my eyes to what I really looked like. I had a black tail unlike any other Siren with white fins.
As in, I was disgustingly different from any other Siren with their colourful forms.
"I still like water. I just don't feel like showing myself to anyone anymore."
"But-"
"I don't want to talk about it, so can you please just leave the subject alone?"
I said in a slightly raised voice.
Distance paused, then nodded.
"All right. I won't bring it up again."
I smiled at him gratefully, standing up and commenting,
"You look a lot better now. You gonna shower?"
Distance stood back up, clenching and unclenching his fists to test the bandages on his hands. Once he seemed satisfied by my handiwork, he shook his head.
"I'll shower in the morning to wake myself up for what you're gonna teach me."
He responded.
I smiled, laughing as I washed my own bloody knuckles.
"Ok, then I'll shower right away. I'll go get groceries after I do that."
"All right."
Distance called as he exited the bathroom.
As I brought a folded white towel out of the hall closet, clothing slammed down on top of my head and obstructed my vision.
"You'll need a change of clothes, dumbass."
Distance muttered.
When I took the clothes off my head, I saw that Distance had already begun to make his way downstairs.
He had selected my signature outfit: blue T-shirt with a black heart bleeding red over my own heart, my blue and white striped scarf, and my pale blue jeans in addition to a change of underwear. I smiled. He may be cold and distant, but he was definitely a nicer person than people thought.
-------------
I heard the water turn on after a few minutes, then continued into the living room.
Memory was so touchy about his Siren form for some reason and I didn't know why. The bastard wouldn't tell me. I suppose I could've entered his mind while he slept and found out myself, being a Dreamwalker, but I didn't like to be invasive with my powers. It made me feel like an asshole.
Anyways, when I stepped into the living room, I saw my mother sitting on the couch.
"Are you feeling a little better, kiddo?"
She asked me with a soft smile.
I gave her a crooked smirk as I never gave anyone a real smile. I hadn't really smiled since my dad walked out on us when I was twelve due to my choice to become genderfluid...and the fact that my mother supported my decision.
"Yeah, Memory fixed me up."
I responded.
I took a few steps towards the couch and paused when my foot bumped against something on the floor. Glancing down, I noticed a sketchbook open to an unfinished sketch of a sparrow and a few sketching pencils. A silver sharpener and neat piles of pencil shavings lay on the coffee table.
I smirked.
Memory had a knack for art and he loved to draw, play videogames, make music, and sing. The singing was an aspect he liked to keep more discreet, but I loved hearing his voice at night when he sang on the roof.
Sirens naturally had beautiful voices which they could use to hypnotize people if they chose to. Memory didn't need this ability, since he could lock eyes with someone using his Aberrant Eye and command them to do whatever he wanted, but he used his voice. As in, he loved to sing random songs he made up or songs he heard on the radio.
Depending on how tired he was at the end of the day, he would sing anywhere from two lines of song to an hour of song.
Either way, his voice must've had some kind of effect on me.
I kneeled down, inspecting the hyper-realistic sketch of the sparrow's head and upper body.
"He's really talented, isn't he?"
My mother asked.
I nodded.
"Yeah. Its nice that his headaches seem to be going away, too. Less risk of him returning to Shale's control."
Let me explain who or what Shale is.
Most religions have a belief in two great forces--one good and one evil. Imagine the being known as Satan. You know, a demon.
Now imagine there's only one huge demon with no physical body who can have hundreds of hosts at one time. It looks like a shadow and takes over a host by asking them a simple question.
As soon as you let a single word out of your mouth, it takes over and twists your wish to its advantage. For example, if you say you want to be courageous, you will never feel fear or pain but you'll lose your mind and Shale will replace yours with its own.
Shale is very commonly-known and there's not a single child in any division who hasn't heard scary bedtime stories about how bad children get 'taken away' by Shale.
My mother nodded thoughtfully.
"I feel like he's my own son now. I'd be devastated if he lost himself."
I kneeled beside the sketchbook, then I glanced at mom.
"Would he mind if I looked through this?"
"Would you mind if he went through your manga collection without asking?"
She replied mischievously.
I bit my lip. Thinking about the fact that half of all the manga was yaoi and that all of them were in mint condition, I quickly replied,
"Yeah, I'd be pissed."
"Then don't rifle through his sketchbook. He spends lots of time on his drawings and he'd be upset if you smudged some of the finer pencil lines."
I stood back up. I'd ask Memory if I could see his drawings later.