Its pretty much the same here at Quantilhill Academy. Students rushing everywhere to get things done. Teachers trying to walk through the hallway without dying in the process. And me struggling to get to the library without getting smashed by the crowd.
Quantihill Academy is made up of three huge buildings , one of which houses the greatest library ever. Its the only place to go without worrying about tripping , falling or having unhealthy contact with people. It has those floor-to-ceiling windows which overlooks the little garden in our school , making it the perfect spot to snooze off a little.
Usually it works fine, until the school beauty approaches and hits you with a book.
"Ow!" I look up in time to see Melanie taking the seat opposite me.
"Tell me about it," she stated as if I would get her drift.
"You do realise you can't be seen with me," I whispered to her, pushing up my glasses to emphasize my point. With one hand, she smacks me roughly on the arm, and snatches my glasses off with the other.
"Oh please, am I that hideous?" She fingers my black, square-rimmed glasses.
'No, I am!' I whispered impatiently. She puts on my glasses like she hadn't heard me . I gotta admit, she does look good in glasses. But that's not the point now. I needed the sleep to wash away the weirdness of the morning, but I can't really do that if everyone's gazes are on us.
"So back to the main question, are you unwell or something? You look terrible." She leans in slowly and her tips of her eyebrows were pointed downwards in worry.
I grimaced. She was right.
I slept through the first two periods, dreaming about more cats and talking animals, which was frightening enough to jolt me awake, and earned myself a glare from the lecturer.
I can't explain why I wake up feeling like I was deprived of any sleep even though I'm sure I'm knocked out the moment I'm on my bed. Or why my body feels like lead.
Not to mention my little dizzy episodes this morning. And that stuff on the bus.
"M'fine, just lack of sleep," I mumbled. "I'm still doing the biology essay, unlike someone who completed it before it was even given out as an assignment." I try to get my way around this, but as usual she gave me the don't-give-me-your-nonsense look.
"I thought Mr. Sharpe would have dissected you by now."
"He would, if he knew how badly I'm doing for this term."
Well, she wasn't entirely wrong there. When I first complained about the phantom aches, Dad made me go through a whole series of medical examinations. Those he could do he did it himself. Others that he couldn't, he sent me to a hospital out of town to do it. I thought it was a bit excessive, but then I couldn't change his mind, and Austin didn't bother helping me on that either, so I went through it without much of a fight. The doctors said it was just normal muscle aches. I kept quiet about the fact that I'm not physically active nor anywhere near the passing mark for my phys ad. lessons.
Then there's the terrible headache, like a blinding white flashing behind my eyelids. And all of a sudden I would be fine again.
I'm worried about my physical condition since I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything to warrant these aliments, but what happened in the kitchen this morning was more disturbing. Their sneaky behavior was totally pricking me the entire day. It almost makes me wonder if I have some terminal illness that they were too afraid to let me know.
I sat up straighter and dismissed that thought immediately. If it's something as serious as that, they would have locked me in an intensive care unit already, given Dad's character.
"If you want to dress up like a nerd, you got to act like one," she said, bringing me back to our conversation. "If you aren't smart enough to graduate, I would be at our convocation alone."
I gave a crooked smile.
If you care to see beneath the beautiful exterior, she has got a really amazing personality as well. She's loud, she's funny. No pretense at all, but she says she often betrays expectations. I guess you could call her the clueless one, she doesn't seem to get how many admirers are looking fondly in her way.
"What can I say, I live to disappoint.," I said, leaning back on my chair.
"You still haven't told me what got over you this morning," Melanie said.
"I had a stupid dream." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
"A dream?" she asked, with her head cocked.
This seemed to pique her curiosity. She leaned forward, closer to me. I wished I went for another alternative like "I woke up on the wrong side of the bed" which was partially true.
"Go on," she prompted. She didn't say things like 'don't be stupid' or 'are you trying to be funny'.
"I dreamed that I was someone else, with amazing athletic skill and speed. There was a talking cat. That's about it." I don't mention the part where the cat begs this Damien guy to go to sleep. "Sounds stupid , huh?"
Silence.
I glance up at her. Her face is contorted into a mask of calm , which tells me she's thinking. Maybe she wasn't even listening.
'You said you were someone else, so did you get a look at who it was?'
The question threw me off. I didn't expect her to take me seriously. But she got me thinking.
"Like hell I will, Dad." That was the reply. I'm assuming the talking cat was based on my dad, since he does shapeshift, and he shifted into a cat alot when I was young . And Dad has two sons. Me. Austin. Austin can manipulate minds. So who the hell is Damien?
And that laughter....that sounded like me.
"No-" I started to say, but the bell rang loudly startling the both of us.
We sped off to our respective classes. I slept through most of the classes and sat in a daze for those I managed to stay awake. As the last bell rang, Melanie comes to my class and waved at me. I feel the piercing stares from everyone in my class and gulped. She ignores it as usual, and hooks her arm around mine.
I wonder how to break it to her without sounding rude. As much as I enjoy the skinship, there are a few faces of anger directed at me which I cannot ignore. I sighed heavily again.
Somehow, things don't seem to be looking too bright for me.
I'm having a dream again. I know this because I'm staring at a grand mansion, its exterior walls seemingly made up of ice. It's raining. Even though I know it's a dream, the rain feels cold against my skin, sending little chills down my spine. I look at the majestic gate in front of me, which is closed and chained up with at least a dozen locks, each rusty and some even had icicles on it. I wanted to laugh at this ridiculous dream.
If I'm seeing this castle in my dream, then why am I not invited in?
I walk right up to the gate and closed my hands around one of the locks. Immediately, the ice chains binding the gate melt one after another, leaving only the unusual shaped lock in my hands. On closer inspection, I notice that the lock doesn't have a keyhole. But it clicked open when my palm closed around it. Ok, so logic doesn't exist in this fantasy world.
Screw that. I dump the lock on the wet grass and take a deep breath before I push the ice gate open, and step around it cautiously. The ice, unlike the rain, is not cold against my bare hands. After walking for an insanely long time through a long corridor, I arrive before a set of doors decorated with many sparkly crystals. I stopped and hesitated. I didn't know why but I feel strangely nervous in front of this door. I was about to turn back when I hear a loud creak and the door opens itself slowly. I take that as an invitation, even though I have watched enough horror movies to know that these scenes do not end well.
The hallway beyond the door was bare, except for the torches lining the walls. You know the kind of dungeons where the monster always lies at the end to get you? That's the feeling I'm getting from this place. At the end of the hallway is another door, but it's protected by layers and layers of ice with sharp ends protruding out. It feels like mission impossible, where the vault is always only accessible after crossing a series of laser beams. I'm wondering if I should walk away, and wait for myself to wake up from this dream. But then I get this insane idea.
I walk forward and place my hands on the ice. The cold hurts my hands. But just like the ice chains earlier on, it melts, forming a large pool of water at my feet. Its nice to know that simply laying my hands on it melts the icicles away, and I don't have to perform some crazy, flexible moves to get across to the door, like those action in spy movies. Gingerly, I reached for the brass doorknob and turned.
A large gust of wind gushed out of the room beyond. I hold my arms protectively over my face, and stepped forward slowly into the room. And all of a sudden, the wind died down, as if it weren't there in the first place. I opened my eyes a peek, and almost jumped at the sight before me. There was a raised platform made of stone, the height of a bed. At the center of it, a teen lay curled up on his stomach, seemingly unconscious. He was bound by chains around his arms and legs. The weirdest thing was that he looked exactly like me.
"Hey, why am I here?" I asked. My voice echoed around the walls of this room. I take one step forward, and start to reach for the chains bounding the hands of my replica. If everything in this ridiculous dream melts away by a mere touch, then...
"You're finally here."
I froze and look up. My replica was looking at me, a small smile playing on his lips. It's not the fact that I'm talking to, well, myself that's scary. The scariest part is that his eyes were nothing like mine. They were strikingly blue, like the ice that made up this castle. Cold. Cruel. Reflecting nothing humane about him. I involunteerily shuddered and took a step back.
He sat up easily, and somehow just shook the chains off him like it was no big deal. Then he steps off the stone bed and walks over to me, with a small smile on his lips.
Nothing like me at all.
"Who are you?" I take another step back from the blue-eyed me. I notice thin streaks of black slowly spreading across his hair like ink, covering the brown hair that was originally mine.
He advances towards me again, his posture relaxed and yet intimidating at time.
On instinct, looked around frantically, but the door that I came in from vanished. With nowhere to run, I could only retreat till my back hit the wall. And still, he advances, his eyes never once leaving mine. There was no warmth in them.
"W-who are you?" I asked, hearing the tremble in my voice. I hated it. But I can't shake off the fear that was slowly rising. I desperately need to wake up. Like right now.
"You can call me Damien, Ethan."
I stared at him with widened eyes. Damien?
Damien?
I'm starting to think that this is a continuation of the crappy dream from last night. He smiles when he sees my look of realisation. I could feel my heart thundering away in my chest. He stopped with his face barely inches away from mine. Then he put his arms on either side of me so I am trapped between him and the wall.
There was nowhere to run, and my legs won't move.
"I know you're scared, Ethan," he says knowingly. "But please, trust me."
Trust him? TRUST HIM? I think I'll pass on that. I won't even ask him how he knows my name. Instead, I clench my fists, debating with myself whether I should attempt to punch him.
Just when I was about to raise my fist, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. I froze on the spot. "I'll protect you," he whispers in a voice that is too familiar. "I can protect you better than your dad," he says calmly.
"Like hell I will, Dad."
My eyes widened again. There is no mistake, he's the one who said that. It is my voice, but it carries a dangerous edge to it.
As crazy as it sounds, I'm going to have to ask.
"Who's the cat then?" I asked, still wrapped in his embrace.
"Don't you know, Ethan?" He laughs, following the conversation at once. His voice vibrates in my ear. "Of course he's James, our dad."
I gulped and disregard the fact that he addressed Dad by his name, but I can't ignore the fact that he just said our dad.
Me. Him. Our.
I don't like the sound of that. I was about to question further but a wave of sleepiness suddenly hits me. My body relaxes even though he still had me pinned in a tight embrace. The warmth emanating from him was scary but smoothing all at once. So smoothing, that I feel my eyelids drooping already..
"Protect me from what?" I asked groggily.
"So many things you have to know," he whispers into my ear. "But you have to go now."
My eyes flew open. I take in the surroundings of my room to know that I'm awake again, no longer stuck in dreamland. My hands are shaking so bad that I slide them under my pillows, too afraid to close my eyes again.
Without a doubt, I knew I wouldn't be falling asleep again anytime soon.